Violet

“You coming?” Tom asked as he approached y/n. He and a few others from the cast and crew were going out for drinks. He’d worked with y/n by now, but hadn’t spent much time with her outside of work.

Y/n gave Tom an appreciate smile but shook her head. “No, but thank you,” she replied politely.

“Do you prefer to do something else instead?” Tom offered with a smile.

“Oh,” y/n startled. “No, that’s okay,” she promised. She felt bad, Tom had always been nice and was going out of his way to make sure she was invited tonight. But, she couldn’t accept the offer, it would make her too susceptible to having her past repeated.

“Have I offended you in some way?” Tom asked gently, his smile having disappeared.

“What?” Y/n gushed as she shook her head quickly. “No, of course not!” She replied.

“Okay, well if you decide to join us all later, you know where we’ll be,” Tom proposed, a faint smile on his face again.

Y/n gave Tom another small smile and nodded. She felt bad, and truly wanted to be able to go. But she couldn’t risk getting close. Especially not to a guy. She had came all the way to Berlin for work in order to get away, she wasn’t going to undo that.

Y/n groaned to herself as she cleaned up her table. Today had been a total disaster. It was one thing after another. They’d basically got nothing done on set today and the director wasn’t handling it well.

“Ice cream is on me,” Tom commented warmly as he appeared from around the corner.

Y/n quickly looked up and visibly hesitated. But, she was quick to see how Tom’s immediate reaction to her hesitation showed he’d taken it personally. She had rejected spending time with him since they met. Although to be fair, she’d done that with everyone since she arrived. Only, the others had quickly given up on her ending her isolation; whereas Tom hadn’t. Y/n knew she had likely been being paranoid. Nothing had really happened since she arrived. And she was kinda tired of spending each night alone and having no one to talk to. Perhaps ice-cream with a co-worker wasn’t the end of the world. “Okay, sure,” she agreed.

It came as a surprise to herself, but y/n found herself and Tom growing closer over the last few weeks. In fact, she actually now considered him a friend. It was strange and slightly worrisome still, but also comforting. Especially given she was certain she was slowly losing her mind to her paranoia.

Y/n had gotten a handful of calls from unknown numbers over the past two days. All of which were silent when she would answer. She knew odds were it was simply telemarketers, but it still made her anxious. So spending time hanging out with Tom was helpful in that it distracted her from the suspicious calls.

While they’d certainly gotten closer lately, y/n still hadn’t expected for Tom to ask her out today during lunch. She also hadn’t expected herself to say yes so quickly and freely. Granted, that breeziness didn’t last long. As y/n was now in an empty bathroom stall as she tried not to suffer a panic attack.

Y/n knew she had feelings for Tom, but that was simply another reason she tried to stay away from him when they first met. However, as they’d hung out together as friends, her feelings only grew. He was just as respectful and friendly as she suspected he was upon seeing him interact with others the day he had arrived on set here in Berlin. Perhaps that’s why she was so comfortable accepting his offer instead of letting her paranoia cloud her mind and change her decision. She didn’t regret it, but she knew she’d need to still be on edge. At least until she could somehow ensure she could determine he wasn’t like Michael.

Y/n smiled to herself as she walked into her rental. She quickly locked the door behind her, but the smile didn’t leave her face. She’d just gotten back from her latest date with Tom and had a wonderful night.

Y/N’s smile evaporated the second she entered her tiny kitchenette area. She squinted hesitantly at the counter. There was a small pile of mail she’d opened but not dealt with yet on her counter. That wasn’t the odd part though; she’d left that there this morning. What was concerning was y/n swore she’d left her pen directly on top of the pile of mail. Only now the pen was haphazardly set to the side of the stack of documents.

Y/n sighed loudly as she ran her hands down her face. It could’ve rolled off the top of the stack; it was a pen after all. She was just being paranoid again and looking for trouble. Things had been going too well lately that her mind was getting defensive. She just needed to calm down. Surely if someone had been in here, there’d be other signs of it.

Y/n took a deep breath and decided to double check that she’d locked the door. Once she was sure that it was locked, she made her way to her bedroom space and plugged her phone in before it could die in case she needed it tonight. She then grabbed her bottle of anxiety meds from beside her bed and took one. Surely after enough time, she’d not need them anymore. She just had to let herself see that she was safe now. Time would help with that.

“Come on, love,” Tom nudged teasingly as he snuggled up to y/n. They’d been sharing crazy stories about how something that went wrong resulted in something positive down the road. Tom had explained how his Uber driver had told him he wasn’t going to get the role of Spider-Man while he was on the way to his audition. He had told y/n how as much as it had hurt and seemed like a bad omen, it actually increased his nerves and made him have this buzzing energy that matched Peter Parker’s character really well. Y/n had vaguely answered Tom’s question by stating that her ending up as part of the production crew for the movie they were working on and had met through (Uncharted) was actually the result of a situation gone wrong back home.

“It’s not fun like yours,” y/n explained with a fake light laugh.

Tom noticed the way y/n wouldn’t look at him and how her hands started to shake slightly. He quickly grabbed her hands and squeezed them tightly. “‘ey, love, it’s okay,” he promised. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay”.

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, filled with guilt.

Tom nodded quickly. “Of course, darling, you don’t have to answer. I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t answer just because it has a different tone in nature than my story,” he explained.

“It’s a bit dark,” y/n admitted, staring up at Tom.

Tom nodded again. “That’s okay, if you want to talk about it, I’m here,” he promised, kissing her cheek.

“I don’t want you to see me differently,” y/n mumbled quietly, her eyes staring at her lap.

Tom frowned. “Y/n, I don’t know what’s going on,” he acknowledged softly. “But, I promise you that won’t happen, love,” Tom vowed.

Y/N’s eyes lifted up and she stared at Tom I’m silence for a moment, contemplating. “Okay,” she whispered. She took an audibly deep breath. “So… I- I ended up here because I had to get away from someone back home,” y/n explained vaguely. “I basically ran… changed my info and fled.” “And, yeah, that’s what brought me to Berlin,” she laughed humorlessly.

“You had to get away from someone?” Tom questioned cautiously. “Was it an ex?” he wondered out loud.

“No.” Y/n shook her head. “Not exactly… He-he wanted to be, I guess..,” she replied. “But we were just friends”. Her hands shook slightly as she recalled how it went down.

“I see, I’m sorry, love,” Tom said gently. “Did he hurt you?” He questioned, his worried eyes scanning y/n.

“No,” y/n answered quickly. Upon seeing Tom’s visible disbelief, she sighed. “Not physically at least,” she explained.

Tom nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It sounds crazy,” y/n admitted.

Tom frowned and took ahold of y/n’s shaking hands. “He stalked you,” he guessed.

“How did-“ y/n panicked.

“I’ve had experience with stalkers before, they make you feel constantly on edge,” Tom sympathized. “That’s the only explanation for why you would think it would sound crazy,” he acknowledged. “Plus, love, it explains why you were so distant before”.

Y/n’s gaze dropped from Tom’s face guiltily. “Yeah… sorry about that,” she mumbled.

Tom lovingly squeezed y/n’s hand as he held her closer. “Don’t be.” “Just know, I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” he whispered into her hair.

“Tom,” y/n sighed.

“I do not mean to minimize what you went though,” Tom promised. “I simply do not want you to have to live in fear. I’ll help keep you safe as best as I can.” “I can get you some security if you need for when filming is over and you go back,” he offered calmly, smiling faintly as y/n relaxed some and leaned into him more.

Y/n smiled shyly but appreciatively.

Tom and y/n sat quietly for a little, Tom letting her steady her breathing. However, he noticed how she seemed to be bendy looking around the room. This helped him realize that while her breathing had slowed, she was clearly still somewhat distraught. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, holding her hands tightly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I-,” y/n looked up at Tom. She shook her head. “I d-do-don’t think so,” she stuttered. She curled the side of her lip up out of self pity. “I mean, I got a restraining order, ch-changed my name, flew to Berlin,” she trailed off, “but…”

“But?” Tom pressed.

“I still panic over every weird occurrence,” y/n blurted.

Tom squinted. He tried to trace back the areas y/n had been nervously looking at earlier for clues. “What do you mean?”

“It sounds paranoid without context… Maybe even with context… but,” y/n rambled bashfully.

Tom squeezed y/n’s hands supportively. “If you want to provide me with the context, I’m open to hearing it. Either way, I doubt it’ll sound paranoid knowing what you said you went through,” he sympathized.

Y/n nodded in agreement. “It’s kinda a long story,” she warned.

“I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to you, love,” Tom said.

Y/n bit back a small smile. It wasn’t hard when her focus shifted from Tom’s kind words to what she was about to disclose. “I… had this friend, Michael,” she murmured. “H-he and I would go to the movies, or hangout together a lot. He never asked me out; which is good, ‘cause I never saw him that way”. She frowned as she continued her story. “Yet, it was because of that that I didn’t know he saw me that way. Not until he started getting a bit possessive when I spent more time with other people.” She looked up nervously, only to be greeted by Tom’s compassionate gaze. “I didn’t realize how bad it was until I was staying with my cousin and his wife one weekend and posted about it… Michael got mad and … and asked who it was, why I didn’t tell him, and all of that kind of stuff.”

Y/n tucked her legs under her as she hesitantly let herself lean into Tom’s comforting embrace. “We got into a fight over it,” she recalled as Tom rubbed her back, “I said I needed space to myself in order to see if we could still stay friends after the weirdness.” She groaned to herself as the memories flowed. “I thought he was respecting that… but instead, he just started hiding his possessive traits.”

“It took me what I think was maybe, a week, to notice that he was following me,” y/n confessed with a scowl. “When I called him out on it, he apologized and… and pl-pleaded to let him make it up to me.” She shivered faintly, recovering when Tom rubbed her bare arms lovingly. “I told him that I needed to think and he began calling me, all day, every day, every hour of the night, to try to get through to me. I told him to stop but he didn’t.” She gritted her teeth as she reprocessed the events. “I blocked him… and then he started showing up everywhere and these ‘gifts’ started arriving at my house.” Y/n shook her head against Tom’s chest out of frustration. “I got a restraining order as I’d ran out of options, but the police did nothing as they said it was coincidental and I couldn’t prove it was him,” she explained.

Y/n wrapped her arms around Tom’s waist as he continued to hold her. “The part where I ended up here because of it, happened to be that, one night, I got a call saying that I was offered a spot on the production crew for Uncharted that I’d applied for months before.” She smiled faintly as she spoke about her change in luck. “I had my friend verify the offer, so I knew it wasn’t a trap from him,” y/n detailed. “When she mentioned the only issue she saw was that it was in Berlin, I saw it as a chance. I immediately changed my last name so that it wouldn’t show on any passports or flight registries, ordered a new emergency-rushed passport, and flew out here,” she concluded. “So, yeah, that’s me,” y/n added in an attempt to soften the tension caused by the rest of her words.

“That’s not you,” Tom murmured. He pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head.

“What?” Y/n whimpered in a hushed voice.

“That’s something you went through,” Tom acknowledged with a frown. “But, it’s not who you are, y/n,” he soothed. He tightened his grip on her as she melted into his side. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with that.” Tom took a deep breath and intentionally focused on making his voice as soft as possible. “But, I have to ask, when you said there was something you were going to say that would make you sound paranoid, what was it?”

“Oh,” y/n laughed to herself. “That,” she mumbled, “right”. “Well,” she sighed loudly, “it’s just..”. A few moments of silence passed after she had trailed off before y/n spoke again. “See that picture frame?” Y/n asked as she pointed across the room to the shelf by her TV.

Tom nodded. “Yes, the one with you, and who I’m assuming is a friend of yours?” he asked to confirm he had tracked y/n’s finger-pointing back to the correct frame.

“Yeah,” y/n agreed.

Tom nodded again.

“Well, I…” y/n sighed. She truly felt crazy. “I could’ve sworn it was at a slightly different angle yesterday,” she admitted.

“Hmm,” Tom nodded. He looked around her room as he asked, “anything else?”

“What?” Y/n questioned, having been caught off guard by Tom’s response.

“Have you noticed anything else out of place?” Tom clarified.

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Y/n asked, her eyes slightly widened.

“Not in the least,” Tom argued. “Hopefully it’s nothing,” he reassured, “but the fear is valid, and it doesn’t hurt to consider the possibility”. He wrapped his arms more securely around y/n in hopes it would help her feel protected and safe now.

Y/n was beyond appreciative over having been respected about what she felt might be paranoia. “Ummm, well…,” she mumbled. After reminding herself that Tom seemed to trust her instincts, she felt comfortable continuing to explain the weird things that had been occurring. “I’ve also been getting weird calls… with no one on the other end.”

Tom’s brows furrowed as he gazed down at y/n. He pouted to himself. “How long ago was this?” he asked.

“I got one earlier today,” y/n informed Tom.

Tom nodded. He gently tilted y/n’s head up so he could look into her eyes. “If it happens again, can you let me answer?”

“You want to answer it?” Y/n questioned in bewilderment.

Tom simply nodded. “I was sincere when I said I want to help,” he promised.

“Okay,” y/n nodded. “Thank you”.

“No,” Tom whispered, stroking y/n’s cheek. “Thank you for being willing to let me know and trusting me to help”.

“Tom…” y/n trailed off. Her hesitant eyes were focused in on Tom’s patient ones.

“Yeah?” Tom replied.

Y/n bit her bottom lip. “I wanted to explain that’s also why I… asked for us to stay a secret,” she frowned. “I don’t want my face getting out there, you know..”

“Of course,” Tom gushed supportively. “And darling, you don’t have to explain things like that, it’s your choice, my love.” He smiled softly as he ran his thumb over y/n’s cheek. “Nonetheless, I completely understand.”

“STOP!” Y/n shouted, her body violently flying forward from her sleeping position. She felt the air from the fan tickling her sweaty forehead. Her eyes were widened and she felt dehydrated. She felt someone grab her hand, causing her distant startled gaze to snap towards where her hand was resting on the bed. She quickly traced the hand back until she saw Tom watching her worriedly.

Y/n let out a shaky choked sob. Her eyes shifted away from Tom’s face in embarrassment. She felt him cautiously wrap his arms around her and bring her to his chest. “I’m… I…I’m sorry, T-Tom,” she apologized.

Tom gently shushed y/n and rubbed her back as she buried her face into his torso. He frowned to himself, hating that the woman he loved was so traumatized. He whispered soothing words as he held her tightly. He made sure to let her know that she was safe and that it was okay that she reacted this way to her nightmare.

Tom had almost gotten y/n back to a completely calm state when her phone began to ring. He felt her stiffen in his arms, making his frown return. He quickly reached over to the nightstand and picked up her cellphone. Tom squinted at the screen angrily but upon feeling y/n shimmy against him to try to see, he tilted the screen for her so she could check it first.

When y/n froze upon seeing the unknown number on her phone yet again, Tom delicately pulled her back to him. “Is it the silent call?” He asked her. Upon her nodding slowly, Tom shifted his jaw and pressed answer as he moved the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” Tom answered. He heard nothing in the background. Not even things or people shuffling around. The other side of the call was completely silent. “Either respond now, or stop calling this number,” Tom commanded. He waited for a response, but still, none came. He glared at the phone as the line went dead.

Tom silenced y/n’s phone before placing it back where he’d gotten it from. He adjusted the blankets to completely cover y/n’s shaking frame. Once she was covered properly, he securely wrapped his arms around her as he began to try and soothe her again.

The night Tom had learned about y/n’s history and comforted her after her related nightmare, the couple hardly slept as she was on edge for awhile after the call. But, after that night these weird occurrences suddenly stopped. It was so sudden in fact, that y/n was a bit fearful that Tom might be connected to Michael somehow. However, she calmed herself down and realized that was crazy as Michael wouldn’t have stopped now because of that even if Tom did have a secret connection to him; there would’ve been no reason to. In fact, one would expect if that were the case for Michael to feel more comfortable and increase his stalking behaviors. So, y/n figured she was just being paranoid from the very start as it had now been over two weeks without anything weird happening.

Y/n yawned lightly as she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside. Her tiredness quickly turned to glee upon seeing the decorations Tom must’ve set up. They had agreed to staying in for date night tonight. Y/n had given him her spare key since she knew she’d be having to work at least an extra hour longer than he did on set today. She figured he could let himself in and get comfortable until she got there. She’d texted him about twenty minutes ago to let him know she was finally done on set. Given the romantic dinner that was currently set for two and rose petals covering the floor, he must’ve utilized that extra time to set this up. While she’d been expecting a more casual night in, she appreciated the sentiment.

Y/n walked further into her apartment, blissfully unaware to what was about to happen. Just as she’d approached the dining table, she felt a cold metallic pressure on the side of her head. Her body began to panic but she forced her mind to remain calm. Y/n turned at a glacial speed towards where the cold metal sensation was. Michael. She swallowed thickly as her dramatically widened eyes took in the way her stalker was suddenly standing directly beside her, a handgun barrel pressed against her head. Before she could find the words to say, or any words that is, Michael gripped her shoulder and motioned for her to sit.

Y/n’s hands nervously sat in her lap as she gazed across the decorated dining table. Michael was already staring back at her. While his appearance still filled her with terror, it was slightly better than it had been with the gun pressed against her.

“Eat, beautiful girl,” Michael said, waving the gun loosely around as he used it to point to y/n’s plate. “Come on, it’s our date night,” he encouraged when she didn’t move, “wouldn’t want the food to get cold”.

Y/n eyed the overbooked steak on the plate in front of her. Had Michael poisoned it? Would he do that? He liked her right? So surely he wouldn’t want her dead.. right? Had he somehow figured out about her relationship with Tom? If so, was that enough to make him try to poison her in retaliation? It’s not like she was even hungry. Not anymore. Any appetite she had when she walked in the door left the second she saw him. But she didn’t want to piss Michael off by not eating it either. Perhaps she could play it off.

Y/n poked her fork at the steak. “I.. uhh… I was actually going to try being vegetarian,” she lied.

“Since when?” Michael asked, seemingly deeply interested in the topic.

“I’ve thought about it for awhile,” y/n said slowly as she inventoried her surroundings. “A co-worker… o-on set showed me.. a… a video today though,” she rambled, biting her lip as she realized her only possible escape would be the front door.

“A vegan propaganda video,” Michael commented judgingly with a look of irritation on his face.

Y/n nodded nervously, her fear returning as her eyes made their way back to the gun in Michael’s hand.

“No worries, babe,” Michael said casually, “it’s sweet you care that much”. “We can still enjoy our night together,” he grinned.

Y/n nodded anxiously yet again, not wanting to offend Michael. “What are you doing here?” She asked. As appalling as this was, at least he was having positive feelings for her not anger against her at the moment. She hoped to keep it that way while also finding a way through this. If she somehow survived the night with him, maybe she could sneakily tell Tom tomorrow on set? Tom. How was she going to warn him to stay away? Did she want him to? Or did she selfishly want him to come over and help her? Could he help her? Was it selfish of her to want him to?

"I’ll have you know,” Michael groaned as he set his gun on the table beside his plate. He paused as he took a moment to enjoy a bite of his overcooked steak. “It wasn’t easy, you were really hard to track down, you know that," he complained.

Y/n’s brows furrowed. Not hard enough, evidently. “Oh,” she whispered. “How did you?” Y/n dared ask even though her voice shook as she worried if Michael would take offense to the question.

Michael actually appeared happy when the question left y/n’s mouth. He smirked as he pulled out his phone. The smirk shifted to a grimace as he glared at something pulled up on the screen. A few seconds later, Michael turned the screen towards y/n to show her.

On Michael’s phone was a picture of y/n and Tom. Given the weird angle and the setting, y/n knew it had clearly been taken by either a fan or paparazzi. Fortunately, as to not further anger Michael, the photo was innocent enough. In the unauthorized photo, y/n was sitting very closely to Tom and he had his arm over her; but that was it. The unfortunate part was that it was taken without their knowledge and leaked online for anyone to see; including her stalker Michael.

“Your new guy friend seems to have a large social presence,” Michael commented with blatant disgust.

Y/n ignored Michael’s attempt to act as if he hadn’t heard of Tom Holland before seeing the photo of her and him together. She nodded slowly, “that’s how.. How you knew I was in Berlin…”. Y/n placed her arms on the table, intentionally laying them over the utensils. She ignored the way the ends of the silverware dug into her skin as she asked Michael how he got inside her apartment.

“That was a bit trickier,” Michael confessed, but was still smug about it. “Especially given the name change,” he tsked. “Which, is too bad. I liked your real last name babe,” he complimented, reaching out and taking hold of y/n’s hands across the table.

Y/n froze and her body tensed. She couldn’t pull away without upsetting Michael. But it made her physically nauseated to be touching him. Or rather, to have him touching her.

Michael took y/n’s sudden tension as an implication that she felt bad about changing her last name. “It’s okay honey,” he nearly purred, squeezing her hands for good measure. “Both are nice. Any name is nice on you.” Michael let go of her hands as he resumed eating his meal. “Anyways, dear, to answer your question,” he mumbled with food in his mouth. “Once I went through the list of names for the cast and crew, I realized the name change, but thought it was just a mistake.” He shrugged casually as he continued, “nonetheless, I then name dropped your new last name when I got to set and asked for an extra key”. He smirked to himself, his eyes flickering up to meet y/n’s . “I’m sure you’re wondering how I was able to get one,” he said excitedly. “I pretended to be one of your co-workers who was running behind on their tasks and needed to get some papers you had left at home by accident and said I didn’t have time to get the key from you directly,” he bragged.

Y/n slowly dragged her arms back to her. She was careful to do it gradually as to not accidentally drop the streak knife on the floor in the process. As good of a plan as it was, she still felt very stupid in that moment. She should’ve told the others on set about Michael. She’d wanted to get away and leave it all behind her. But by not telling anyone, she let him worm his way back into her life so easily. She should’ve told the crew so they’d not be so naïve. But it was too late for that now. “Wow,” she murmured, hoping it came across as being impressed and not terrified. “S-so,.. wh-when did you get here?” Y/n questioned as her wrists hit the edge of the table. The serrated knife dropped to her lap; the sound muffled by her question.

“Nearly a month ago,” Michael answered breezily.

“What?” Y/n gasped, practically choking on air. A month?! Those weird occurrences had been Michael after all! She wasn’t paranoid. He’d been in her new apartment.

“I didn’t want to rush things,” Michael defended, his tone suddenly tighter. “We both know how that went last time.” He sighed. “But, I was the one who cleaned up the files in your kitchen, dusted your picture frames, and made your bed that day you forgot,” he grinned. “I also checked in on days I wanted to give you space but also wanted to check on you,” Michael added.

“That was you,” y/n murmured to herself as she thought back through all the crazy things that had happened.

“Of course that was me babe,” Michael scoffed. “Babe, I had to be sure you were taken care of”. He gritted his teeth as he glanced down at the gun beside him. “I’ll be honest, I’m not too fond of this… Tom, guy though, that you’ve brought into our lives,” he complained.

Y/n faltered. At this point, she didn’t know how to proceed. She didn’t know what Michael knew or perceived. “I- I-…” she stuttered nervously.

"I mean, really, babe?” Michael groaned as he shook his head. “Why be with Tom Holland?” “What does he have that I don't?” He asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

“He isn’t a stalkerish psycho,” y/n blurted. "So it’s more of what he doesn’t do that you do,” she said, her hand quickly covering her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Well, there went trying to keep Michael ‘on her side’.

Michael instantly gripped the gun with one hand and the edge of the table with the other. His face demonstrated his sudden but deep agitation. “You’re a hard one to please, dear,” he nearly hissed. “But, no worries, in time I’ll learn your intricacies.” Michael let go of the gun as he rose to pour y/n some wine.

Y/n watched in anger and fear as Michael got closer. She was beyond fed up of trying to run and hide from him. She was tired of him altogether. She just wanted her life back. “Wh-What do you want from me, Michael?”

Michael squinted at y/n in confusion. “To be with me,” he said simply.

Y/n swallowed as she scooted her chair back slightly. “I’ve told you-“ she reminded gently.

“I know,” Michael nodded. “You see me as a friend,” he acknowledged briefly. “But, friends often become more than friends. You just need to give me a chance”.

“I did,” y/n argued angrily. She’d given him a chance to still be her friend after the first incident. But things hadn’t gotten any better.

Michael squeezed the wine bottle tightly until it broke. He sighed as y/n gasped and leapt from her seat in a panic. But, he nonetheless calmly cleaned up the mess as if it wasn’t some angry outburst. “I meant a real chance, dear,” he corrected though his teeth. “We’ll have time for that soon enough though”.

Y/n utilized Michael looking at the broken shards of glass from the wine bottle to slip the serrated steak knife into her back pocket. “What do you mean?” She asked, partially out of fear and partially to keep him talking. She’d try to wait this out, but if things went wrong, at least she now had a defensive option/weapon.

“I know you enjoy working on set here,” Michael said with what was likely an attempt at a sympathetic frown. “But, our relationship needs to come first, not work”.

“Relationship?” Y/n questioned, stepping back further from the table; and from Michael.

Michael groaned loudly as he picked the gun back up. But, he kept it low and at his side. “I don’t appreciate the fake dumb act, dear,” he scolded. “You’re far too smart for that babe,” he said with a glare, as if in warning. But, Michael quickly snapped back to an overly welcoming expression. “Now, as I was saying,” he redirected happily, “you’ll be coming with me when I leave Berlin tomorrow”. He stepped to the side of the table to approach y/n. “I’ve got your room already set up,” Michael smiled.

Y/n took another step back as she kept her eyes on Michael. “M-my… room?” She questioned. “Leave?”. Y/n rapidly shook her head. “Michael, I’m sorry, but, I think you’re confused,” She tried to empathize.

“I’m not confused!” Michael shouted. His right hand smacked loudly against the table beside him. The dishes rang out in the otherwise quiet room as they tried to steady themselves. “Sorry, dear,” Michael murmured upon seeing y/n’s fear. “Now, as I was saying,” he sighed.

Y/n jumped as a sudden knock hit her door. Someone was here. Tom. It was likely Tom. She still hadn’t settled on whether or not she wanted him to be here for this. Nor if it was okay for her to want such a thing. But that didn’t matter, because Michael had already stomped over to the front door.

Y/n watched silently as Michael peered through the door hole. She noticed the way he gripped the handle of his gun tighter as he glared through the tiny circular window. She froze with wide eyes as he spun towards her suddenly.

“Why is he here?” Michael spat as he stormed towards y/n, waving his gun frantically.

“W-well…,” y/n mumbled quietly. “W-We had a date n-night pl-“ she tried to defend cautiously.

Michael pointed the gun at y/n’s forehead as he glared at her. “No, WE had a date night planned,” he hissed, moving his pointer finger to the trigger. “Get rid of him,” he commanded. Michael grabbed y/n’s bicep and tugged her towards the door.

Y/n nodded frantically. “Tom, I’m coming!” she dared to call out. At least this way Tom would know she was home. That way he wouldn’t just leave and she might even be able to secretly alert him to get her help. She yelped as Michael’s free hand suddenly clapped over her mouth.

Michael dug the barrel into the side of y/n’s head. He lowered the hand from her lips and nodded towards the front door. “Casually!” He whispered harshly. “Don’t act so fearful,” he said, his voice softening drastically, “it’s just me”. When y/n refused to move, he nudged her forward. “Now, go”.

“Don’t act fearful says when there’s a gun to your head,” y/n mumbled to herself as she moved away from Michael. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. She schooled her expression into what she hoped would meet Michael’s demands.

Tom looked up from the flowers and wine in his hand as he heard the creaking of y/n’s door. His heart dropped upon making eye contact with her. She was clearly not herself. “Love, what’s the matter?” He asked worriedly.

Y/n resisted a small smile at how attentive Tom was. She shook her head and gave him a sad frown. “I.. uhh…,” she mumbled, pausing when she felt the cold metallic of Michael’s gun move back to the side of her head. “I’m not f-feeling well,” she stated, avoiding eye contact with Tom.

“I can see that, darling,” Tom frowned. He discarded the wine and flowers on the ground beside y/n’s door. “What happened? Did you get another ca-” he began to ask.

Y/n cut Tom off before he could finish his question. She knew he was going to ask if Michael had called her again, and that was the last thing she needed right now. “I-.. I’m sick,” she lied weakly.

Tom squinted. “Does your head hurt?” He interrogated as he scanned y/n’s face.

“What?” Y/n croaked.

Tom pouted, his brows furrowed. “You’ve been crying,” he stated.

Y/n lifted a shaky hand to her face. She hadn’t realized she’d cried at some point between arriving home to Michael’s intrusion and now. But, as her fingers trailed over her cheeks, she realized Tom was right. “O-oh, just-just feeling crummy, is all,” she tried.

Tom didn’t want to pry if y/n needed a night alone. But something told him he shouldn’t leave. If she was truly that sick, he should stay to take care of her. “Why don’t I help?” He offered, taking her hands in his. “I have a strong immune system and can order us some soup-”.

Y/n rapidly shook her head, making Tom release her hands and take a respectful step back to give her space. God, she was already in love with him, wasn’t she?. “I.. it’s not that kind of sick,” she explained. After she noticed the confusion in Tom’s face, she added, “and I just want to sleep”. She felt guilty for the way Tom’s face dropped even more. “Raincheck?”

Tom was still internally questioning the circumstances. But, he wanted to respect y/n’s boundaries so he nodded slowly. “Of course, darling,” he agreed. Tom knew he had to push aside the worry that came with seeing y/n’s wild eyes and clammy skin; she’d all but asked him to leave multiple times now, he needed to do as she asked. “I.. I’ll see you on set tomorrow then, yeah?” He questioned still feeling something was off.

Y/n nodded reluctantly, not wanting to make a promise she wasn’t sure she would be around to keep.

Tom slowly stepped closer, watching for any signs that y/n didn’t want him to give her a goodnight kiss. When she didn’t show any rejection, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Goodnight darling,” Tom whispered, “feel better”.

“Th-thank you,” y/n replied with a small sad smile. Would that be their last kiss? She had to do something. “Goodnight, T-Thomas,” she croaked, making eye contact with him one last time before stepping back to close her door.

Michael dragged y/n away from her front door by her elbow. “What was that kiss?” He growled. Michael glared at y/n as she looked down and tried to stifle her crying. He sighed and pulled y/n into his arms. “I can’t stay mad at you,” he confessed, nuzzling his nose against the top of her head. Michael didn’t seem to notice the way y/n shook in his arms, crying more forcefully now. “Shhh,” he said, it coming off as a demand. When her cries softened in volume, he grinned and squeezed her against him, “that’s my girl”.

Y/n could no longer miss the fact that she was crying. At this point, her tears were actively streaming down both of her puffy cheeks. “Please!” she pleaded, trying to wedge her hands up between her and Michael’s chest to push him back.

Before Michael could react to y/n’s pleas, the front door swung open.

Tom had quietly waited outside after y/n shut the door; unable to ignore the worry he was feeling. His concerns had only amplified when y/n called him Thomas instead of Tom. She never did that. Something was wrong. He was just glad that he hadn’t heard the sound of y/n locking her door after closing it; suggesting it was still unlocked. As such, he readied himself and threw the door open.

Michael spun towards the door, allowing y/n to wiggle free from his grip. He glared at Tom as the man ran towards him with rage in his eyes. As Tom dove into his torso, Michael’s gun slipped from his hold. Meaning the two ended up in a brief hand-to-hand tussle.

After a successful knee strike against Michael, Tom rushed towards y/n. He prayed his grabbing her wouldn’t scare her, but he had to act quickly. Tom gently, but securely, grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him. He positioned himself between her and Michael. “I know it’s hard,” Tom whispered breathily. “But, I need you to trust me,” he explained as he shifted them so they continued to face Michael as the man stalked closer. “Everything is going to be alright,” Tom promised as he reached back and squeezed y/n’s hand. “Do as I, darling, I’ll get you out of here”.

“What do you think you’re doing, mate?” Tom asked Michael as he tried to plan a way to get y/n to safety. “Just leave her be”.

Michael glared at the couple as he stormed closer. “She’s mine,” he growled.

“She’s not property, mate,” Tom corrected with an eye roll. He held his palm out flatly behind his back to signal for y/n to stop; to stay where she was. Tom took several steps forward, towards Michael and away from y/n.

Michael closed the remaining distance between him and Tom, glaring the whole time. “Don’t talk about her,” he growled. Now that he was within striking distance, he raised his fist.

“Hide! Now!” Tom advised as he blocked Michael’s fist with his palm. As he watched y/n run out of the room and into the hallway, he counterattacked, trying to swipe Michael off his feet. It worked, but on the way down, the stalker tried to pull Tom with him. Thank God for the fight training he had to do for Spider-Man and Uncharted!

Tom and Michael wrestled for several minutes. Tom knew the creep was muttering something, but he didn’t bother to try to decipher it. All that mattered was trying to subdue him so y/n could get away. However, Tom’s plans halted when it appeared that Michael had somehow found the gun he’d dropped earlier, and now he had Tom at gunpoint.

Michael grinned wickedly at Tom as he stood up and signaled for Tom to remain kneeling. He used his free hand to wipe the blood from his busted lip. “Y/n, dear!” He called out as he moved behind Tom to hook his arm around his torso. When she didn’t come out of hiding, he groaned loudly and placed his finger on the trigger. “If you don’t come out babe, I’m going to shoot this idiot,” he threatened.

“Don-” Tom groaned as he wriggled in Michael’s hold. “Don’t!” He shouted, hoping y/n wouldn’t listen to the stalker’s demands.

“Shut the hell up!” Michael snapped, tightening his hold on Tom. He pulled Tom closer, making Tom’s back more flush against his torso and dug the barrel of his gun into Tom’s temple. “Y/n, if you care about your friend, you’ll-” he warned.

Y/n’s appearance in the living room cut Michael’s threat off. She stared with wide eyes as she stood before Tom and Michael. This was her mess; she got Tom into this. She needed to get him out of it. “I-I’ll go,” she said with a visible gag. “I’ll-”.

“No!” Tom shouted as he fought against Michael. He even brought his elbow backwards into the man’s torso. But, this only resulted in Michael digging the barrel further into his temple.

“Stop!” Y/n begged. She didn’t care that she’d given up any leverage she may have had. Tom needed to get out of here. No one else needed to suffer. “Just,” y/n cried, “just stop hurting him, hurting anyone, and…” She swallowed thickly, “and then… I’ll go”.

“Y/n!” Tom hissed as he stared at her with wide pleading eyes. “Don’t do this!”

“Willingly,” Michael added. When y/n didn’t seem to understand his statement, he stared at her expectantly.

Y/n nodded shakily. “Y-yes,” she whispered. “Wi-will….,” she paused. After she took a deep breath, y/n cleared her throat. “Willingly,” she lied, the words barely choked out before her tears started to fall. It was a lie, it wasn’t willingly. Nothing about this was willingly done. But she would willingly choose to protect Tom. Besides, she knew there was no way Michael was going to just let Tom live. She knew he saw him as a threat. He was just currently using him as leverage. So, y/n figured she might as well try to flip the situation on Michael.

Tom shook as he scratched at Michael’s arm that was wrapped across his front. “Y/n,” he pleaded, “no, don’t do this! Please!”

Y/n shot Tom a sympathetic look. She wanted to try to silently communicate that she wasn’t going as willingly as she stated, but she couldn’t risk Michael noticing. “I’m sorry,” she sighed.

Michael hummed cockily. “That’s my girl,” he declared with a grin. “I knew you’d choose me”. He slowly released Tom, keeping the gun on him while Tom snapped up and into a fighting stance. He kept an eye on Tom as he walked nearer to y/n, the gun pointed squarely at Tom the whole time. Yet, he noticed the way Tom nevertheless moved closer as if still willing to fight.

Michael waved y/n over to him smugly. When she was by his side, he lifted his free hand up to stroke her cheek, causing Tom to lung forward slightly. “Ah ah,” he scolded, “she said she was doing this willingly”. “I won’t have you violating her boundaries and wishes,” Michael stated ironically.

Y/n’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she heard Michael say to Tom “now you have to just watch as she kisses her actual crush”. She froze in disgust and panic. But, she quickly recovered as the expectant look on Michael’s face helped her realize she had to play along. She took a deep breath and summoned up any acting ability she may somehow secretly have.

Y/n begrudgingly neared Michael. She closed her eyes as she moved her lips until they were millimeters away from his. She set one hand on his shoulder; for both stabilization and distraction. The other hand she kept at her side, fingers slipping into her pockets.

Just as Michael seemed to become fed up with waiting and began to move his head closer, y/n swiped the serrated steak knife from dinner out of her pocket and slammed it into his arm that was holding the gun. She instinctively took a step back as blood spurted from the wound. However, she knew she didn’t have long; Michael was going to be livid.

Y/n pulled the knife out of Michael’s arm, trying not to dry heave at the sight and sensation of his muscles and tendons tearing against it as she did. She noticed the gun had lowered from being aimed at Tom and was not just hanging at his side. But, before she could grab it and hold him at by gunpoint until the police got there, she watched Michael try to lift the injured arm to point the gun at her as his other arm gripped her hip.

Y/n quickly plunged her weapon into Michael’s thigh and pulled downwards. She once again removed the knife from his leg as she stepped back. She noticed he’d dropped the gun in an attempt to grab at the sudden wound to his thigh. So, this time y/n tossed the bloody knife across the room so Michael couldn’t use it against her. Simultaneously, she scooped up the gun and moved backwards as she pointed it at him.

Y/n had never held a gun before, much less shot one. Prop guns on a movie set? Sure! But a real one, not until now. The weight of it and what it symbolized felt heavier than even the blood-soaked knife she’d stabbed Michael with. As such, she was too distracted by the chaos to notice Tom’s warning shout as Michael grabbed at her leg from the ground. Within seconds, her body slammed to the floor. She groaned loudly but otherwise kept her advantage, the gun only moving off of Michael for a split second.

Y/n kicked and scooted across the ground, her leg hurting too much for her to dare risking an attempt to stand up. She kept the barrel pointed at Michael as she slid further from him. She noticed Tom placing himself between her and Michael as they glared at each other across the floor.

Tom watched Michael closely as he tried to back up slowly until he could reach y/n. Only, he abruptly stopped and went to change directions and head towards her stalker as the man suddenly rose and began charging. Tom and Michael exchanged blows once again. His hand slipped in the blood on Michael’s arm as he tried to grab him, allowing Michael to escape his hold for a moment. But that was all it took for the man to charge towards y/n. Before Tom could even attempt to get ahold of him once again, a gunshot rang out.

Y/n had seen the look in Michael’s eyes as he fought with Tom. She was trying to figure out how to get him to stop. Did she shook him? Just threaten to do so? And if that didn’t work, then actually shoot him? She didn’t have a chance to figure it out when suddenly he was racing her way yet again. With slightly trembling fingers, y/n aimed the gun at Michael’s legs and pulled the trigger. She screamed as the shot rang out and Michael dropped to the ground.

Tom immediately sprinted over to y/n. He threw himself into the floor beside her. He cautiously set his hand over her shaking ones that were still holding the gun. Once she let go of it, he took it from her and moved it to his right hand. With his left hand, he pulled y/n to his side and tried to rub her back.

“I-,” y/n gasped. “I had to do it,” she defended quietly, her eyes still on Michael’s crumpled form.

“I know,” Tom reassured y/n. He held her body tighter to him as he felt her tears soak his shirt. The gun was still in his other hand, but pointed at Michael in case the man was stupid enough to try again. Tom wasn’t going to take any chances. Michael wasn’t coming anywhere near y/n ever again.

Y/n turned her gaze away from her stalker and buried her face in Tom’s side when he tapped her cheek to try to distract her. “I… I didn’t w-wa-want to shoot him,” she cried. Despite Tom’s supportive hold on her, she shook violently against him.

“I know, it’s okay,” Tom promised, resting his chin atop y/n’s head.

“No,” y/n gasped as she choked on a sob. “I-…. it’s not okay,” she argued. “I just shot someone!”

Tom frowned. “‘ey, ‘ey,” he whispered, his left hand gently lifting y/n’s damp chin up so she would look at him. “‘ey,” he repeated when she finally met his gaze. “He was charging at you.” “You did the right thing,” Tom informed her.

Y/n sniffled and hiccuped as she tried to compose herself. “You’re… You’re not afraid of me?” She asked, her voice cracking.

Tom shook his head. “No, love, ‘course not,” he promised quickly. “I’m proud of you for doing what you had to,” he admitted solemnly.

Once y/n was in less of a panicked state, Tom quickly scanned her body for any injuries. “How’s your leg?” He asked, glancing between her and Michael rapidly as to not take his eye off the threat for too long.

Y/n stretched the leg in question out before her. “Just sore, I think,” she answered as she felt out the extent of the injury from her fall.

Tom sighed in relief, quickly pulling y/n back to his side.

“Are you okay?” Y/n croaked out after a few moments of hesitant silence. She was afraid to ask the question. She hadn’t noticed any excessive injuries, but it had all happened so fast she couldn’t be sure.

Tom heard the deep worry in y/n’s tone and hummed. “I’m fine,” he promised, tenderly squeezing her hip for effect. “Much better now that you’re here, and he’s over there,” Tom pointed out as he nodded his head towards Michael.

Y/n whimpered in tired agreement. She nuzzled into Tom’s embrace, appreciating the protection and love she felt. “Th-thank-,” she began.

“Don’t you dare thank me,” Tom spoke softly. “It’s not needed,” he promised. He crooked his neck and placed a light kiss to y/n’s head. “We’re safe now”.

Tom lifted the blanket up to keep y/n tucked in. She was resting curled up against him, his arms wrapped securely around her shrunken frame. They were seated on the couch at his apartment, under several oversized fuzzy blankets as y/n had been freezing; seemingly from her lingering anxiety after tonight’s events. By now they’d already talked to the police and completed any forms they’d been asked to do. They ventured to Tom’s apartment as y/n understandably didn’t want to be in her apartment any longer; plus, it was a crime scene still. But despite the change in environment and how tiring the situation had been, neither one could find sleep. So, they simply held each other as they snuggled on the couch.

Y/n hesitantly broke the silence. The fact that they didn’t feel the need to talk about it right away was a relief. But, there was one question that was bugging her. “Tom?” She asked quietly.

Tom pressed his back against the couch cushions so he could see y/n better. “Yes, darling?” He replied, a small but sympathetic smile on his face as he sensed her reluctance to speak.

“How… I’m glad you did,” y/n said vaguely. “But…,” she nervously bit her bottom lip. “How did… how did you know something was wrong?” She wondered.

“You called me Thomas,” Tom answered easily.

“Wh-what?” Y/n questioned.

Tom smiled and cupped y/n’s cheek with his right hand, the other staying protectively placed on her hip. “Darling, you never call me Thomas, only Tom,” he pointed out.

Y/n bit her bottom lip. It worked. “I… I didn’t know how else to signal it,” she admitted. “But… I… well, I wasn’t sure it would work, that you’d notice the slight difference”.

Tom squeezed y/n’s cheek lovingly. “I notice everything when it comes to you,” he said. “Especially if it has to do with your safety or wellbeing,” he added with a faint smile.

Y/n smiled back softly. “I’m glad,” she confessed. “On the bright side,” she murmured, turning to rest the back of her head against Tom’s chest. “At least now I know how to alert you if someone’s wrong, or if he-“.

“He’s never going to hurt you again,” Tom vowed. He tightened his grip on y/n protectively. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure you never have to worry about him again, trust me”.

“I do,” y/n commented warmly as she squeezed Tom’s hands that were locked around her waist. “I trust you, Tom,” she promised.

——————

Taglist: @theslayerofthevampires @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifeysblog15 @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker / Spider-Man Masterlist

nerd!caleb, who insists that the both of you MUST study together or he’ll be sad without you :((( you’re his comfort person and emotional support. he needs you around him at all times! unfortunately whenever you both try to study together he gets distracted and ends up telling you ‘did you know?’ fun facts about physics that makes you sigh the moment he starts.

nerd!caleb who’s a guy that 100% has EVERYTHING written down about you in his phone and when it gets mentioned months after you told him, you’d be confused on why he knows because you’ve forgotten that you’ve told him!

nerd!caleb who’s the type of guy to sneak up on you when you at home or appear unexpectedly on campus behind you just to quickly spin you around by the waist to kiss you. and it’s so sudden!! you always need to grasp on his sweater to ground yourself from not falling over.

nerd!caleb who lets you be independent to deal with your own problems but alwyas watches from a distance, ready to step in the moment he sees that you need him.

nerd!caleb who flexes his muscles in your face just because he knows how flustered you get and how he sees your eyes dart over his body before you turn away with a flushed face. it makes his lips curl into a boyish grin. so cute.

nerd!caleb who would buy jewelry with his initials or with some cute space trinkets just because he thinks you’d look pretty (totally not because he wants others to know you’re his.)

nerd!caleb who showers you with compliments everyday and takes care of you. making sure you eat and drink enough and that you KNOW that he is utterly helplessly in love with you and only you.

nerd!caleb who’s stupidly smart, always topping all his classes and is the professors assistant that also helps to grade students work. how ironic that his girlfriend is barely passing the course. “no pipsqueak, i can’t raise your gradeee. it’s against the rules,” he pouts. “buuuut, if you’re willing to do me a special favour…maybe i won’t mind.” he smiles cheekily. you scoff at his words.

nerd!caleb who overworks himself during finals and takes it out on you :(( he would be the MEANEST. he’d call you over for a study session but it’ll always end up with him bending you over the table to fuck you stupid until you both turn into a babbling overstimulated mess. he just can’t control himself either!

nerd!caleb who would reward you when you do well on your exams by making you cum over and over again on his tongue that it has you trying your very hardest to squirm away or push his head away. it never works though. he would simply just grab your wrists in one large hand and use the other to hold you down while he swipes his tongue over your clit even faster making you let out a pathetic sob.

nerd!caleb who would fuck you in missionary so that he could analyse every expression and twitch on your face, memorising every single movement with his piercing eyes as if he was trying to solve a difficult quantum mechanical equation. dont even try to turn your face away when you’re embarrassed!! he would simply just wrap his hand around your neck and force you to look at him. no, he doesn’t care if your face is all flushed red or that you can’t take it. he needs to study the way you look when you feel good.

nerd!caleb who starts spewing praises over and over when he’s about to orgasm. he will lean down and kiss you all over your neck and face as he thrusts harder and faster into you, ready to spill his hot, thick cum deep into your cunt. “n-ngh! what a good- ah! girl you are” “yes yes yes princess—hnngh! cum with me please i need you.”

nerd!caleb who needs your scratch marks all over his back and practically wears it like cool battle scars but it only makes you embarrassed every time you see the red lines over his muscular biceps and back 😵‍💫😵‍💫

黎深 ꩜ .ᐟ ZAYNE

nerd!zayne who is a little (just a little 🤏 ) smug and egotistical about his academic intelligence because he truly is prodigious. everyone knows him for his achievements and also for having an insanely LETHALL facecard.

nerd!zayne who has fangirls who take the same course as him and try to come up to him to ask for help with their work. he doesn’t even bat an eye in their direction before blatantly ignoring them before walking off to find his girl!!

nerd!zayne who surprisingly also spends a good portion of his time in the campus gym. as a future cardiologist, he has to stay fit right? unfortunately, that also means forcing YOU to work out with him. “noo zayne, leave me alone and do your nerdy stuff by yourself” oh, he knows you hate it but he would throw you over his shoulder playfully and force you to come anyway. however, that’s just because he wants to watch you all doe eyed, borderline drooling by the weight he’s manhandling so easily around the gym. (he just wants you to watch him but would never admit it)

nerd!zayne who would read every night before bed, having you curled up into his side. one hand on the book as the other holds you close to him as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

nerd!zayne who would always help you with your homework if you were overwhelmed. no, it doesn’t matter if you weren’t in a medical course or not, he would always somehow know the answers or how to help you with your assignments. he’s practically your personal chat gpt..

nerd!zayne who would never admit that he’s jealous when he sees you acting friendly with other guys. and it’s obvious by the way he glares at them wordlessly that he IS possessive over his girl.

nerd!zayne who always has his arm around you in public but would never act overly PDA simply because he knows he can’t control himself.

nerd!zayne who always backs you up in public even if he knows you were wont because he would NEVER talk down on his girl or scold you in front of others but oh so help him god if you were to act bratty or very unreasonable, let’s just say it makes him tick. the moment he’s got you alone, say goodbye to sitting comfortably for the next few days. he would bend you over his lap and spank you until you were crying with your arousal dripping down your thighs onto his lap. he would simply ‘tch’ before fucking his fingers into your cunt and rip them away before you cum and leave you like that as a punishment. my man is 100% a brat tamer.

nerd!zayne who obviously knows more about your body more than you. yes he may be training to be a cardiologist but do you really think he didn’t learn about gynaecology? oh and he would not hesitate to use that against you in bed to turn you dumb and pliant for him. his fingers just know exactly where to press and prod, massaging those yummy spots inside your warm walls that leave you gasping and thighs trembling. you can’t help but try to run away from the stimulation :(( “aww too much hon? it’s okay you can take it. you will.”

nerd!zayne who makes you hold eye contact with him while in the MEANESTT MATING PRESS…and if you look away, he would give you a firm spank on your clit that makes it even harder for your eyes not to roll to the back of your head as you cry out. he would also definitely have you on the edge and begging for it with tears in your eyes from his teasing. it just turns him on so bad that it makes him feral for you.

nerd!zayne who is the type of guy to 100% leave his glasses on as he fucks you dumb knowing that you gets so turned on by him in his framed glasses. the way they fog up as he eats you out or when fucking you and he lets out breathier pants. he would also leave his watch on while fingering you just to see your sticky juices drip down onto his forearm and turn the glass glossier. “nuh uh baby, don’t hold back. you better cum all over my fingers or you won’t get my cock.”

nerd!zayne who would mark you up in places that only he can see and no one else. leaving love bites all over your inner thighs and chest. he’s a proud and firm believer that whatever happens between the both of you stays between you two. unless of course, you manage to piss him off and there might be a little hickey peeping out from the collar of your shirt.

nerd!zayne who would literally get the most enjoyment over you trying to dominate him. unfortunately, it always end up with you getting all whiny and whimpering about how you’re tired that of course he’ll help his princess out by fucking her dumb :( hes more than happy to help!!

nerd!zayne who would definitely have a sensory deprivation kink. he would be into blindfolding you and using his evol on you as a type of ‘temperature play’ knowing that you’re even more sensitive just to make you cum even harder by his cool touch. it brings him joy to hear your little sniffles and the slight jerks of your body.

BONUS!! something i think both of them would go insane over: 🤫

he would die to have you under his desk giving him the best head of his life whilst he tries to focus on completing his assignments but it’s just so hard when he can feel your soft sloppy tongue all over the tip of his needy cockhead while your hands pump up and down his dick.

“n-nngh!— hah! stop, angel-hnn! i can’t focus” he’d stutter with his eyes going nearly crosseyed when he looked down at the lewd state of his hot girlfriend sucking the life out of his dick while doing an assignment so important - worth 40% of his final grade!

eventually he would get tired of your teasing and grab you by the hair, dragging you up and away from his cock before pulling down your panties and stuffing you full that your tummy bulges with the outline of him side you. oh, he would fuck you so hard that you forget your own name and what you were even doing in the first place!

anyway, they made it clear to you that they ‘hated each other’. however, weirdly enough, despite them stating how much they hate each other’s guts most of the times, they are almost always together. ‘just to study of course’. that’s what they told you anyway but you knew that they somewhat secretly enjoyed each other’s company. it went on even until university despite them being in different stem fields entirely. of course, bad habits die hard. and yes, even though they ‘hated each other’, they were now roommates and continue to argue in their shared dorm every other day about who got a higher GPA.

as for you? you were never the studious kind. it used to have teachers genuinely confused as they took notice of the closeness between the three of you, except..you weren’t exactly as bright as they were.. academically anyway. even in university right now. you’ve learnt that ‘ignorance is bliss’ and that it was better to ignore whatever science nerdy topics they’d go on about and whenever they even tried to involve you in the conversation because the most you’d do is look at them with question marks floating above your head. in response to your confused expression, they simply sigh before brush you off by saying ‘science stuff’ despite their heated argument. you always paid no mind to their behaviour.

however, one day your blood runs cold and your heart is stuttering in your chest. how did you get placed into a STEM course. you realise that you DO have to make sense of whatever caleb and zayne talk about now because guess what? you’re in entirely new course which also so happens to be their specialty. despite your begging and pleading to the university, they simply told you that you had no other choice but to complete these subjects for the full semester. your jaw nearly dropped at their words because it wasn’t as if you were as smart as caleb or zayne to adjust so quickly AND score incredibly high marks in every exam. you were already barely passing your original course what more science.

then it clicked. this was nothing your best friends couldn’t help you with. immediately, you told them the news and swallowed down your own pride to ask for help. to your surprise, they’d instantly immediately agreed to tutor you. under their terms. at that time you didn’t know what it meant but you were way too happy to take notice of the mischievous glint in their eyes when they shot each other a knowing glance.

that’s what had gotten you into this predicament anyway. you were in their dorm for your little ‘study sessions’ where they had promised to help you score well for your course. you were sat between them at zayne’s study table, their large frames on either side of you, explaining to you the most important fundamentals you needed to know. unfortunately, if only you could even focus on what they were actually saying. all you could pay attention was how calebs hand was rubbing your inner thigh of your left leg while zayne just rested his on your right knee, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. something about their full attention on you and the fact that they were touching you so casually made it so much harder for you to listen to whatever caleb was explaining. your mind was already fuzzy and dizzy from their slight touches.

how could they even focus? scratch that, how could they leave their hands all over you and could still explain such difficult concepts simultaneously? their slight feather touches and little readjustments were driving you crazy. you had to fight to push down the heat crawling up your neck as your hands were clenched in your lap. you squirm slightly. the heat in your tummy slowly building up as you just tried to focus, focus on whatever they were telling you. but god, they looked so attractive. too attractive it was overwhelming.

“pipsqueak, you’re listening right?” he asks softly, his voice light and teasing as he taps a pencil on the temple of your forehead. you look up at him and see the visible smirk on his lips. instantly you turn away flustered to your other direction, but instead you make eye contact with a firm zayne who grabs your chin intimidatingly. he forces you to look him in the eye before he clicks his tongue, “looks like our little darling here isn’t focusing very well,” he pauses and his eyes darts to the other, “i think we should do something about her attitude, don’t you think so too?” god, the way he talked to caleb, addressing him as if you weren’t even in the room. it made you even more desperate that it almost made you feel embarrassed by how turned on you were.

you hear the sinister chuckle that caleb huffs out. it makes your knees weak that you think that your legs would’ve given out if you weren’t seated but his next words of ‘oh i believe we should’ made your thighs instantly try to slam shut against their hand that still holds your thighs open.

“oh no, baby.. none of that,” caleb tuts softly against your ear. “we have a ‘method’ to get you to focus…but you need to say yes.” his lips presing against you now. instantly you gulp and nod furiously. you feel caleb’s lips curl at your frantic response but take notice of the other man who looks at you with such hunger just because of the needy look you gave him. god, how you made them hard. oh all the years they spent pining over you. looks like now they don’t even have to fight. zayne’s eyes narrow and search your eyes for any sort of resistance or hesitance. finding none, he instantly leans forward, turning your face and slam his lips onto yours. hard.

before you know it you’re seated on zayne’s cock. he’s buried all the way, the tip nearly kissing and prodding at your cervix as his veins rub against you so deliciously. but you didn’t think it would be this easy, did you? oh no no. they promised that they were going to help you score well in your exams. that was their first priority.

“zayne—ngh! you’re so deep… pleease! i need you..move please..caleb, help me-ngh!” you whine, crocodile tears blurring your vision as you fail to answer any of their questions about the content they had just explained to you. zaynes large palms are presses you down, restricting you from any movement that all you can do is sit on him and warm him up. you feel the way his cock twitches inside you, you’re so so full that it feels hard to breathe even. your toes curl as you kick against his open thighs. you needed friction. your gummy walls can only flutter and flutter around him as you’re so desperate that theres a white ring of arousal to were you connect.

caleb leans his face close to yours, looking up and down at your pathetic state. perched so nicely and snug on his best friend’s cock. helpless and unable to move, tears in your eyes. he just pouts with faux sympathy “baby, if you wanna cum, you gotta answer our questions. how else will you learn?” his voice laced with innocence.

zayne lets out a tch of annoyance at your lack of comprehension, already going cockdrunk just from feeling him inside you. he moves one of his hands up your body to pinch at your nipple. “are you even listening? if you don’t try to even answer us with a reply we want, say goodbye to being fucked like how i know you want us to. i know deep inside you all you want is for us to manhandle you and force you to take it don’t you?” his voice low and serious. he pauses before his hand traces up to caress your jaw sweetly. “but, if you answer us like a good girl and stop thinking with that stupid cunt of yours, maybe we will consider not to leave you needy and throbbing. we just might fuck you so nice and hard that you go stupid on our cocks and bring you over the edge over and over again until you can’t remember anything but our names.”

you let out. desperate mewl at his words. “o—okay..hagh! please— just let me cum.. ngh.. caleb just explain it—hah! one more time,” you whimper pathetically. “of course, sweetheart. we’re gonna make you cum, kay?”

every time you failed to let out respond correctly zayne would slap your clit and make your body jerk as much as possible with his tight arms around you, heeding no mind how your cunt spasms around him with every strike. caleb is also there to reassure you gently and prompt you to get your answers right, giving hints so you could get it right and that they could fuck you. if only you were fuzzy, you’d notice that all this help caleb was giving you wasn’t out of sympathy either. they were taking their time to savour you. to tease you. to devour you whole between them.

eventually they relent on the questions and it almost makes you die from relief. caleb wipes away your tears gently, cupping your face as zayne rubs his hands over your body in an attempt to soothe you. what shocks you next is how caleb grabs zaynes face instead of yours and smashes his lips against his. it’s a kiss fighting for dominance, their glasses hit against each others as their kiss is so intense and full of desire. it makes you whimper and squirm at the sight.

they pull away panting, “aww, princess desperate for some attention too, huh. its okay we got you.” caleb reassures you, all smiley. before you can comprehend anything, zayne grabs your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, however, he completely controls the kiss and doesn’t let you go until you signal for a breath of air. the moment you pull away, you feel calebs lithe fingers take off zaynes glasses and slides them onto your face, the glass framing your face perfectly.

“lay back and relax now, darling,” now it was zayne cooing against you. suddenly you feel him pull your legs back and it makes you squeal as he bares you open to caleb, spreading you wide, still seated on his cock. his elbows lock underneath your thighs and before you know it, caleb is between both your legs and licking all over your cunt and where you and zayne connect.

caleb smirks against your cunt hearing both your groans. he licks over your cunt in slow, calculated licks, lathering his tongue all over you. it makes you whimper loudly, as you throw your head back at the lewd sight between your legs, the way you can feel the vibrations directly on your cunt. calebs groans and whines as he eats you out. your toes curl and you try to close your legs from the overwhelming feeling but zayne only holds you tighter. you pant and pant so heavily that it fogs up zayne’s glasses. the sight of it making caleb groan as he looks up to see your face.

with your eyes squeezed shut and your head leaning over zaynes shoulder, you miss the brief look shared between the two and before you can process anything, you feel caleb’s lips wrap around your clit and suck hard, his tongue flicking against your clit making you near incoherent as your vision whitens. before you can even ground yourself, you feel zayne shallowly thrusting his hips up against yours and the squelching of your cunt grows louder and louder along with your high pitched squeals and moans pouring out from you.

“let go, princess.” zayne coaxes you.

you cum against calebs tongue and on zaynes cock so quickly that you couldn’t even warn them until your body convulsed between them violently and you let out a broken moan of, “i—nghh! cumming! ah-! z-zayne..caleb!” you cry out.

they don’t respond, solely focused on making you feel good and helping you ride out your orgasm. zayne continues thrusting into you while caleb licks over your quivering swollen clit like there was no tomorrow. eventually it grew too overwhelming, too quick. too much.

you instantly wince and reach down to pull at calebs hair to move him off your sensitive clit but he wouldn’t budge, too pussydrunk on your taste. zayne also continues to grind you against him which heightens the pleasure for your already sensitive pussy. you let out a cry as you were sandwiched between zaynes cock and calebs mouth, no escape or attempts of running were an option for you. only to take it like the good girl you were.

the heat in your stomach was already building up again, quicker and quicker waiting to unravel and burst. zayne reaches a hand to press on your tummy to coax the orgasm out of you faster. again another blinding orgasm washes over you, the feeling of oversensitivity gone.

exhausted, you lay against zaynes chest as he finally releases his grip on yours trembling thighs and at the same time, caleb lets your clit go with a resounding ‘pop’.

suddenly, you see caleb stand up and grasp your face. “you know we aren’t done yet right? we didn’t even get to come.” he smiles with faux kindness. “besides, i want to see your pretty eyes roll back as we make you cum over and over around our cocks, begging for us to let you take a break. we’re gonna make you feel soo good, pip.” he grins.

and truth said, they did exactly that. they had you on top of caleb and zayne behind you. caleb holding your legs apart now as zayne held your hair back so caleb could get a good look at your fucked out expression. face flushed, cross-eyed and hair sticking to your forehead with sweat. every once in a while caleb would push the glasses back up to the bridge of your nose before thrusting up just to watch it fall further down again as you scramble, trying to ground yourself with two cocks inside you. you’re practically drooling from the pleasure as everytime caleb thrust upwards, zayne would pull out. and once zayne thrusted back in, caleb would pull out. the torturous cycle of both your holes being fucked so slow and deep - in and out. in and out. it was maddening and above all, drove you delirious. their sweet moans and groans fill the air along with yours. in the end, you could do nothing but succumb to the pleasure until they stuffed you full of their cum in your ass and your womb.

that semester, you still passed your course with flying colours. that 4.0 GPA all thanks to your tutors who were also now your boyfriends who had made every single lesson ‘efficient’ that all the information was ingrained into your memory :3

you take a screenshot of your results on your computer before sending it to the both of them.

you: look at what i got!!! a 4.0 GPA >.<

you: you better be proud of me

nerd 1 🫶: i guess our good girl deserves a reward, don’t you think, apple boy?

nerd 2 ❤️: i suppose so.

And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head. 

Gods, you thought, what a day. 

It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse. 

But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this. 

“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.” 

You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.” 

The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid. 

“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing. 

But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work. 

So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law. 

It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it. 

By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.

Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would. 

Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner. 

You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents. 

“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion. 

You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard. 

That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book. 

Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad. 

–

But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–

You froze when you heard it. 

Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you. 

Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.” 

A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it? 

“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost. 

A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?” 

You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue. 

There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was. 

“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he? 

A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound. 

“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.” 

Well, he did have a point there. 

“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.” 

A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.” 

Half an hour?! 

“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?” 

“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.” 

You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.” 

Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.” 

“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.” 

You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left. 

— 

“Is Bucky ever home?” 

You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.” 

You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?” 

“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling. 

“How recent?” You asked. 

“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.” 

Unbelievable. 

“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?” 

She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.” 

She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world? 

— 

The following night, Bucky came to see you again. 

You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.” 

“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation. 

“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.” 

He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.” 

You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you. 

“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.” 

He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?” 

“Well, yes.” 

“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there. 

Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.” 

“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body… 

Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet. 

“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?” 

He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.” 

You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.” 

—

“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?” 

The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too. 

“Have you seen his face? Like properly?” 

They both nodded. 

“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself. 

One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.” 

— 

“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically. 

“Do they?” 

“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?” 

He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?” 

You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?” 

“Not yet.” He said. 

“Why?” 

“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?” 

You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…” 

He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.” 

“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t. 

“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.” 

Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” 

You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless. 

You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.” 

He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.” 

He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.” 

And then he left. 

— 

The following morning, you woke up to two surprises. 

The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it. 

The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s. 

You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good. 

The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.” 

You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning. 

It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels. 

Oh, it was perfect. 

The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’ 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?” 

-

Hours went by. 

The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible. 

The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create. 

The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting. 

It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting. 

By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?” 

She let out the tiniest, softest howl. 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?” 

She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore. 

At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office? 

So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school. 

He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy. 

So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought. 

But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office. 

-

You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.

Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.” 

Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office. 

You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?” 

“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.” 

You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?” 

“In your lap.” 

Fair. 

“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?” 

He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?” 

You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.” 

A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?” 

That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.” 

He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.” 

You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?” 

“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.” 

You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.” 

He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.” 

Just like that? 

“I… okay.” 

You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it. 

You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.” 

A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.” 

You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.” 

He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.” 

— 

It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream. 

And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you. 

It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’. 

You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep. 

Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes. 

But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine. 

And then one night, he didn’t come to see you. 

You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came. 

At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window. 

“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said. 

You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime. 

“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?” 

Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him. 

– 

There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning. 

It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’ 

Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears. 

Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right? 

Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on. 

Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking. 

Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more. 

You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now. 

You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep. 

-

You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you. 

Except he wasn’t in his usual spot. 

He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm. 

“You’re home.” You said. 

Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said. 

You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.” 

“I was out working,” He said. 

“Maiming and killing?” 

“You know me so well.” 

“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned. 

“It is.”  

“Were you hurt?” 

“I was.” 

You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?” 

“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone. 

You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only– 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot. 

You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.  

Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?” 

He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away. 

He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver. 

Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch. 

“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?” 

Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower? 

Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?! 

“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog. 

He chuckled. But remained quiet. 

So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite. 

Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?” 

Oh. 

Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?  

“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking. 

Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation. 

Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?” 

You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin. 

“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?” 

He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone. 

With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.” 

He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard. 

“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat. 

You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head. 

“Are you just all talk or–,” 

He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours. 

“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?” 

You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.” 

He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely. 

You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you. 

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.” 

He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour. 

“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to. 

“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.” 

His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.” 

Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”

“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued. 

The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.” 

“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.” 

Oh fuck. 

Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him. 

You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you. 

You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?” 

He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?” 

That shut you up really quickly. 

“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.” 

His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him. 

“Please.” You caught yourself whispering. 

Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?” 

You squirmed, “Touch me, please.” 

He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.” 

You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped. 

Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more. 

But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed. 

“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble. 

You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness. 

The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.

Oh you were fucked in the head for real. 

And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs. 

“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.” 

“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.” 

“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you. 

A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could. 

“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?” 

His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. 

You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant. 

Fuck… that felt amazing. 

You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed. 

“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure. 

All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.” 

You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.” 

— 

That night ended up being the first of many. 

Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds. 

After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you. 

But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come. 

On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night. 

On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe. 

You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people. 

The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him. 

The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you. 

—

One night, things changed. 

Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard. 

Tonight started out the same way.  

You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms. 

It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch. 

“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach. 

You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined. 

He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours. 

He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him. 

He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge. 

You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?” 

Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed. 

In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed. 

“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed. 

“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.” 

He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.” 

You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!” 

“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you. 

“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.” 

“Fine.” 

—

That night was the last time you heard from Bucky. 

He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that. 

And no one knew where he went. 

You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry. 

By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds. 

You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies. 

Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home. 

You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him? 

You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously. 

Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh. 

“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.” 

—

The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked. 

“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely. 

Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t? 

The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.” 

The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.” 

“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.” 

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! 

No. This cannot be happening. 

You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing. 

If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy. 

Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now. 

You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot. 

You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss. 

You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?” 

One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion. 

You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.” 

Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go. 

The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him. 

And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you. 

Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him? 

Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home. 

Luckily your father was home. 

You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns. 

Good thing you’d brought your own. 

The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you. 

You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days. 

You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?” 

Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

You repeated, “Where is he?” 

Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?” 

“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice. 

He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,” 

You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?” 

He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,” 

“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.” 

He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?” 

“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.” 

Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?” 

You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him. 

“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?” 

The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.  

You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his. 

“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.” 

His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief. 

You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.” 

You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you. 

And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’ 

There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms. 

Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him. 

But you would. 

As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there. 

Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become? 

The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate. 

There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here. 

Or both. 

You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance. 

“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,” 

You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?” 

“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,” 

You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?” 

Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.” 

You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse. 

It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way. 

He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him. 

They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh. 

“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?” 

He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside. 

“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged. 

Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.” 

You turned to face him. “What?” 

He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.” 

Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.” 

You did. And only missed twice. 

Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up. 

As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse. 

“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.” 

On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out. 

“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.

You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”  

“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.” 

That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.” 

“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet. 

At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh. 

“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled. 

You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.” 

Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.” 

Then he passed out cold. 

— 

The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold. 

The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in. 

Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home. 

About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest. 

And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside. 

Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married. 

Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it. 

The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.” 

He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.” 

You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.” 

“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled. 

“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.” 

Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him. 

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.” 

You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to. 

He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?” 

You nodded. And he did. 

— 

A lot changed after that. 

Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone. 

Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks. 

He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him. 

He became your best friend. 

He also became a lot more… bold. 

—

One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products. 

Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. 

You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now. 

He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?” 

You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.” 

“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?” 

You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.” 

“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.” 

You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit. 

Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.” 

You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.” 

And he did. Patiently. 

He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him. 

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured. 

He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.” 

He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest. 

Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?” 

You nodded, already breathless. 

“Tell me, baby. What do you want?” 

You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.” 

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured. 

He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. 

You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body. 

“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled. 

You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him. 

But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement. 

He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure. 

“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own. 

You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as  pre cum started dripping down his cock. 

Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him. 

“I want you,” You said. 

Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.” 

You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction. 

You nodded, moaning at the slight movement. 

“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming. 

He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt. 

You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you. 

“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.” 

You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised. 

His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already. 

“Bucky…” You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot. 

Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge. 

And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit. 

“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.

The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. 

You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly. 

“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.” 

You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast. 

You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs. 

You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were. 

Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.” 

You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead. 

You both laid there in silence for a while. 

Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin. 

You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?” 

He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?” 

“Nope.” 

He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.” 

You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer. 

He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.” 

You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable. 

He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.” 

“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.” 

He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart. 

“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.” 

He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.” 

You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight. 

Bucky said, “I think I should retire.” 

“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?” 

“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily.