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brrrkdslek · 1 year

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HYUNG'S SECRET! O.O

❒ psh x male! reader

❒ porn w plot

❒ dry humping, raw sex, mommy kink, kinda somnophilia, recording, pet names, nipple play, possessive hwa, belly-bulge, creampie

❒ you discover your seonghwa hyung's secret and one thing leads to another.

❒ 4.1k

you have a problem. so your current room was yours. since there are nine members, the staff decided to do a lucky draw to see which member would get a room all to themselves. and guess what? you got it of course.

sometimes the members would sneak in and cuddle you at night and you never minded. in fact, you loved cuddling with your members. they all held a soft spot for you as you were the youngest and last member to join.

but recently something weird was happening. you'd wake up most mornings covered in sweat, and your thighs and shorts would be covered in- what even is it? you didn't know.

you just think it's some weird shit you do when you sleep, but how wrong you were.

the members all had split schedules for the day. you would sometimes come across a few members and talk for a bit before moving on, but throughout the entire day you barely saw your seonghwa hyung.

you brushed it off as everyone's schedules were packed and busy, so you thought nothing of it.

seonghwa was the last to arrive back to the dorms. he sighed tiredly as he entered, placing down his things before making his way into the living room, where he found you cuddled up between yeosang and yunho, watching a movie.

seonghwa's blood boiled as he saw yeosang lay against your neck, and yunho's hand gripping your thighs gently. however you didn't seem to mind, instead you smiled more at the affection. which angered him even more.

seonghwa had always held this possessive behaviour towards you. he knew you way back during middle school. you were a few grades below him and always looked up to him, his heart would swell whenever you would run up to him yelling 'hyung!' and telling him all about your day.

not that he hated his members, he just hated how touchy they were with you. you were his, damn it. he knew you longer, been with you longer. heck, he was the one who brought you into kq in the first place.

seonghwa rolled his eyes as he went into his shared bedroom with hongjoong, unpacking his things.

he shouldn't be doing this. seonghwa knew how bad it was, how much trouble he'd get in. but he couldn't help himself.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, big spooning you as he rubbed his hard erection along your plump ass. he reached under your baggy tshirt, playing with your nipple as you let out a quiet whimper in your sleep.

he took a deep whiff when he buried his face against your nape, he moaned. god, you smelled heavenly. he almost came as he heard you let out a breathy moan.

you blink a few times, adjusting to the darkness as you felt something rub at your ass. you stayed silent as you blushed furiously. you bit the edge of your pillowcase as you held back moans.

you could feel yourself get harder. seonghwa leaned forward and nibbled at your ear, "oh fuck-! my darling n/n, hyung's sorry- ugh~ shit! fuck, i love you so damn much." seonghwa sucked at your neck, marking you as his.

he stopped and slid his cock between your thighs, squeezing him perfectly. "oh- n/n you were made for me, see how perfectly we fit with each other? fuckkk~ you feel so good, taking such good care of your hyung."

he thrusted messily as his tip rubbed against your leaking cock every now and then. both of his hands moved to fiddle with your chest, he pulled and twisted your nipples, massaging the flesh of your chest. you whimpered as he bit down on your neck once again.

there's no way seonghwa hyung would do this. there's no way, right? of course you recognise his voice, you knew it was him but you just just couldn't believe he would do something like this. you weren't disgusted at all, the opposite actually.

"fuck- n/n, mommy's gonna cum! cum with me, okay?" seonghwa put his hand into your shorts, stroking your hard cock gently. you bit your lip at the feeling of his callous fingers, you were so fucked. god, why did he have to call himself that? it made you feel all weird and shit.

"ugh~ you're mommy's boy, aren't you? you're mine. mine, mine, mine! fuck- you belong to me, and i belong to you. i- i'll do anything for you, baby," seonghwa kissed your neck lovingly as you feel your orgasm nearing at his possessive tone.

"i love you so much, n/n-! so please, love me too! mommy will take care of you and love you- ah! fuck, you feel so good..." seonghwa teared up, moaning beautifully before cumming all over your thighs.

you came into your short right after, tears sliding down your face. you felt so good, so needed, so loved.

you panted as your eyelids became heavy, just then seonghwa flipped you on your back as you stared back at him with half-lidded eyes. he smirked and kissed your forehead, "go to sleep, it's all a dream..." seonghwa covered your eyes, lulling you back to sleep.

you woke up clean for the first time in forever. bits and pieces of last night coming back to you as you became flustered.

you guys had a fan meeting to attend today. you were pumped and excited to see your lovely atinys, you jumped around with wooyoung as you neared the stage.

the meeting flew by so quickly. you met a lot of nice atinys that gifted you plushies, your favourite! you and the members began answering some questions from a mystery box filled by atinys.

"okay atinys, it's time for our maknae to pick his question!" san taunted as he handed you the box, you swayed your hand around it for a while before picking out a small slip of paper.

you opened it and read exactly as it said, "is seonghwa your mommy...?" the crowd roared and cheered as you stood, flustered. seonghwa smirked and wrapped his arms around your waist, face dangerously close to yours.

"aww, you're all flustered n/n~ do you like mommy that much?" the crowd along with a few members screeched at the sudden comment. your hands rested on his forearms as you stared at anywhere else but him, "uh- yeah of course i like you hyung, what are you talking about?" you laughed it off as you detached yourself from him.

seonghwa's heart fluttered even if it wasn't the 'like' he had wanted. he smiled widely and latched himself onto you again. the atinys awed and cooed at your adorable interaction.

you felt his hand slid under your cropped top, kneading at your waist. you bit your lip and squeezed your thighs together.

"n/n, i know your birthday is coming up soon. look what i got you!" a staff ran out to pass the giant kuromi plushie to him, before he passed it to you.

completely forgetting the past event, you squealed happily and threw yourself at him. catching you easily, seonghwa kissed your cheek. "thank you hyung! really, i can't believe it! it's so huge!" the plushie was almost as big as you.

the audience cooed at the interaction, atinys have always adored you, being the youngest and cutest member, you easily attracted lots of fans.

wooyoung whined, "yah! hyung, why do you only buy nice things for m/n? what about us?" "maybe if you behaved properly i would buy you something too." seonghwa said with a raised eyebrow.

you laid on your bed as you cuddled your very very large plushie. you buried your head into the fur, taking a deep whiff of its scent.

it smelled like... seonghwa? i mean, obviously. he bought it for you. weirdly enough, his scent overtook your senses. your sight became hazy as you sniffed more and more, hips moving instinctively.

"hyung..." you mumbled as you humped the plushie. you muffled your moans by biting into the ear or the plushie. memories of the night before flooded your brain, seonghwa's moans plagued your mind as it replayed on loop. it made you realise how hot and bothered he got you last night.

as you got more into it though, "ah~ m- mommy... oh-!" your toes curled as you shivered at the memory of his touch. his delicate fingers, pretty hands touched you so gently, with so much care, so much love.

you stopped and looked through the crack of your door, thanking the lord no one heard you. you got up and wobbled over to close the door, closing it gently then picking out seonghwa's hoodie from your closet, which he gave you and put it over your tshirt.

you squeezed your thighs together as his warm scent engulfed you. you laid on your bed again as you brought the hoodie up to your nose. you shut your eyes as you suffocated yourself in his florescent smell.

you whimpered as you caged the plushie between your legs, grinding on it. "mmh~ ah-! mommy, please- ouh~!" you pleaded pathetically at seonghwa no one in particular.

then, you heard a quiet giggle. you opened your eyes, face red with sweat as your hair stuck to your forehead. there seonghwa stood at your door, leaning on it. your eyes widen as you froze in embarrassment.

seonghwa walked in, closing the door and locking it as he made his way to sit at the edge of your bed. "so... i guess you like your present a lot, hm?" seonghwa smirked as he held your chin with his finger.

you blushed and swatted his hand away, "n-no! you're crazy anyways! how could you be doing such... lewd things to me when i sleep, hyung!" seonghwa smiled gently before crawling towards you, caging you between his arms.

seonghwa dipped his head next to your ear, whispering seductively. "you're so cute, my love. fuck, i want you so bad," you squirmed as you tried pushing him by his chest, only to have them pinned above your head.

seonghwa licked along the shell of your ear, squeezing a whimper out of you. "i know you want me too, baby. just say the word and i'm yours~" he smiled as you squeeze your legs closer to each other, trying to create more friction.

he slid his knee between your legs and rubbed circled against your crotch. you moaned loudly as you arched your back. taking the chance, he slid his tongue into your open mouth, sucking your tongue as drool trickled down your chin.

he let go of your wrists as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. then, a knock sounded at your door. you pulled away with wide eyes as you and seonghwa held eye contact for a second, before the man smirked and dived down to kiss your neck.

everybody knew how sensitive your neck was, so it didn't help that he attacked at your sweet spots so eagerly. you let out a quiet moan, covering your mouth immediately.

"m/n, are you in there?" hongjoong asked as your doorknob shook,

"why's your door locked-? whatever, have you seen seonghwa hyung?"

"n-no..." you bit your lip as you stared down at seonghwa who moved his knee, you felt him smile into your neck as he teased you. you gripped his hair, hoping he's stop, but it just made him groan and whimper.

"you okay? you sound sick, do you need me to-"

"no! i mean- uh, no it's fine! i'm just feeling a bit t-tired..." you shivered as seonghwa's hand slide under his your hoodie, trailing up to your chest slowly.

"alright... then, sleep well!" as you heard the footsteps of hongjoong slowly diminish, you allowed yourself to relax into his touch.

"a-ah, not there!" you whined dumbly as seonghwa caught your lips again. kissing you with so much heat and passion, making your head spin.

his fingers flicked and toyed at your nipples, making you whimper into the kiss.

seonghwa pulled away, replacing his knee with his crotch as you rubbed against each other.

"baby- ugh, let me fuck you, please? mommy will fuck you full of his cum," he stare at you with half-lidded eyes, sliding his thumb into your mouth.

"tch, i don't know why you're always so touchy with the members. you're fucking mine, got that? i loved you way longer than they did, it's only fair that i should have you, right?"

he slid his finger further into your throat, making you gag a bit in the process. as he pulled out, a string of saliva connected at the tip of your tongue and his thumb. he smirked and licked his thumb clean seductively.

he grinded himself into you agonisingly slow. eyes begging you to just say the word,

to let him take you,

let him pleasure you,

let him love you.

which is what you did. you leaned into his ear and blushed furiously, "uhm, i want you... mommy, ah!" he suddenly bit down on your neck, nearly drawing blood.

"there, now you're all mine. now they'll know who you belong to, right baby?" he stroked the bite mark on your neck, internally hoping it'll last forever.

the male cooed as he watched tears well up in your eyes, softly stroking your cheek, kissing you sweetly. "awh, i'm sorry honey, did it hurt? mommy's sorry, let me make it up to you, hm?"

his hands slid under you as he pulled you up swiftly, switching your position with you now straddling him.

he laid down as he lazily pulled you up by your thighs. your crotch slowly inching towards his face. you leaned forward, putting your hands above his head to level yourself.

"what are you... doing?" you were almost afraid to ask as you internally sweat-dropped.

"i want you to sit on my face" he smiled, almost sweetly if it wasn't for such a lewd thing he just said.

you blushed furiously as you tried to get up, proving to be futile as seonghwa pulled you back in, capturing your lips in his.

"i promise i'll make ya' feel good? please? just once, baby... spoil your mommy please?" he jutted out his bottom lip, eyes begging you to approve.

you thought about it for a few seconds as seonghwa kneaded your ass, teasing your hole by brushing his fingers against it.

you shuddered before nodding. seonghwa helped you take off your boxers, your leaking cock bouncing as it freed. seonghwa smirked before landing a few small kisses on the tip, making you shiver.

you slowly moved yourself forward and closer to his face, "are... you sure about this?" you shot him a worried look as he just nodded frantically, begging you to suffocate him already.

"i just– ah!" he pulled you down onto his face as he kissed and sucked at your hole. his pants tightened more and more every second he smelled your strong musk, it was intoxicating.

you moaned and whimper as your toes curled at this new feeling. his tongue began prodding at your hole as he held you down by gripping on your thighs.

your vision became hazy as you gripped his hair, pulling his further into you. seonghwa moaned at that, sending vibrations into your core.

"oh... mommy! i- ah!" you could only mumble the word 'mommy' pathetically as you rode his face, not even able to form comprehensible sentences.

your thighs tightened against his head as your soft flesh sandwiched his face. seonghwa swore he would've came on the spot if you had squeezed him any harder.

you felt his hands shake as you pulled away from his face. seonghwa's face was red as he panted.

"oh my god! why didn't you tell me you couldn't breathe, i-" before you could finish your sentence, seonghwa pulled you back on his face, sliding his tongue into your hole.

"w-wait, ah~ mommy!" tears started filling your eyes as pleasure overtook your body. his tongue slide in and out of your hole, teasing you.

you looked back to the kuromi plushie and pulled it back into you. moaning as you buried yourself into seonghwa's scent, getting closer and closer.

with you gripping his head and sitting on his face, seonghwa knew he couldn't last any longer. you softly whimpered that you were close as seonghwa went ballistic.

hands groping you everywhere as he slurped and licked at you. your moans were music to seonghwa's ears as he felt himself getting close.

"mommy... 'm gunna cum—" just then, you came all over the kuromi plushie as you pulled at seonghwa's hair, triggering his own release.

slowly, you pulled yourself up as your thighs shook. seonghwa had slick covering his mouth and chin, lazy smile painted on his face as he stared at the ceiling, as if fucked out.

"mommy?" you softly poked his arm as he turned to look at you for a few seconds. fuck, how could you look so innocent even in this scenario?

he crashed his lips into yours, as you tasted yourself on his tongue. you moaned into the kiss as you sat on his lap again, grinding yourself on him.

you looked towards your clock as it read '2:00am'. you made a mental note to not be too loud as you'll disturb the deep slumber of your members.

seonghwa gripped your thigh as he flipped your position, never leaving your lips. "are you finally gonna let mommy fuck you?" he mumbled between your lips as you nodded your head, pulling him so his body was flush against yours.

your hard cock grinded against his, the only thing separating the two were his shorts as he wriggled out of them, stroking your cocks together.

seonghwa went down and licked your nipple, suckling it in his mouth. you shut your eyes, throwing your head back as you tangled your hands into his hair.

he used his free hand to play with your other nipple, twisting and pulling at it. you covered your mouth as you moaned whorishly, never in the world did you think your seonghwa hyung would ever have you in such a position.

even if you did have a big fat crush on him during middle school, you never expected him to eat you out and probably fuck you dumb later. you turned your head to look at the picture on your nightstand.

it was your graduation and seonghwa had surprised you by coming with flowers and chocolates. you remembered how shy you felt as if he were your valentines. you still remember how you squirmed when he pulled you in by your waist for a picture, kissing your cheek.

seonghwa pulled away, looking towards the direction you were looking at. he smiled at the sight of only his picture on your headstand, "'ya know, i actually liked you back then." you turn to him with wide eyes,

"what? no way, i did too!"

he smiled apologetically, "i should've made you mine back then, huh?" you blushed and pouted, "well, you can still make it up to me~" you laid down with your hands above your head, flashing him a flirty wink.

"fuck- i can't do this anymore, i have to be inside you." seonghwa spat into his hand, stroking his hard cock before lining it up to your hole. you gripped the bedsheets above you as you gulped nervously.

he entered slowly at first, holding you in his arms and checking on you as he didn't want to hurt you. you moaned out at the feeling, you felt so full already.

he kissed you sweetly as he entered more and more. seonghwa had to hold himself back from fucking your brains out right then, the way your walls clenched around him, how warm you are, everything was driving him insane.

he felt you relax as he slid his entire length in in one go. your body jolted as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he was... gigantic.

seonghwa waited until you told him to move. he slowly dragged his cock out, making you whimper. then, he snapped his hips back in. "AH! fuck..." you looked down to see a bulge at your belly as you closed your eyes and threw your head back into the pillows.

"heh, you looks so cute like this my love." he began fucking you quickly, almost dizzying. seonghwa pulled his phone out of his shorts pocket, putting his phone eye-level as he recorded you.

"c'mon baby, tell mommy how much you love his big cock, hm~?" he gripped your waist with his free hand, fucking you into him.

"puah~ mommy, i love your- ah! 's big..." you moaned whorishly before opening your eyes, you turned your head to the side, burying it in the pillows. "noooo, mommy don't film me please..."

seonghwa tsked as he gripped your jaw, turning your head towards the camera. "c'mon love, tell me. tell me how much you love it, how much you love me. unless, you like your other hyungs more than me?"

he sped up as you cried, cradling his hand at your cheek. "no- no way! i- ah~ i only wan'chu, mommy... not them, only- mmh! only you...!" you look up at him past his phone as fat tears streamed down your face.

you'd always craved seonghwa's affection since you first knew him, he was the perfect man in your eyes. you were attached to his hip like a puppy during your middle school years.

he was only ever gentle and loving to you. the mean glares he sent to other students were nothing compared to the large sparkling eyes that watched your every move.

of course, you two shared a whole lot of sexual tension. such as 'accidentally' making out with each other during a project at your house one time, but you both pushed it behind.

you always told yourself you only needed him, which he did you too. not that you didn't love the other members, just that your love towards them couldn't compare to yours for him, your hyung.

seonghwa cooed as he rubbed the tears from your cheek, "awe, my love. did'ja think i was giving you away or something? mommy's only teasing~ i would never do that to you, babyboy."

you blushed and smiled sweetly before he put down his phone, hands at your hips as he thrusted speedily. you felt yourself getting closer and closer with each look you shared.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing your eyes open as you spoke, "mommy- ouh! i- i actually enjoyed it when we made out that time during middle school. i was jus- just scared you, ah! scared you wouldn't like me back..."

you shut your eyes, dizzied by the mix pleasure and pain. seonghwa's heart clenched, "my love... if i'm being honest," he leaned down near your ear, licking the shell.

"i actually thought about fucking you after that. every time i'd see you, i imagine folding you on the desk and fucking you in front of all the students. it would've been fun, huh?"

your stomach flipped as you only whimpered in response. it would've been heaven... just imagine, everyday after school he'd fuck you in your seat, in your classroom, where anybody could just walk in. you moaned as you felt a knot in your stomach.

"mmh, mommy, just a bit- faster please..." you nibbled at his neck as he pounded you, lewd sounds of skin slapping and bed creaking arousing the two.

"the bed might break if you go any faster..." you giggled into his neck as he let out a breathy laugh.

"doesn't matter. i need to show my baby how much i love him, how much i've needed him, how much i've wanted him." he rubbed your waist in small circles as you shivered.

"i'm gonna- mommy!"

"ugh! me too, love."

he thrusted messily before cumming inside you, triggering your own release. your back arched as your eyes rolled back, seeing stars. you moaned loudly as he filled you up the brim, hot cum burning your insides.

you let out a quiet moan as he pulled out, kissing you lovingly. slow and sensual, making you sleepy.

you pulled him towards you, tangling your legs together as you whispered a soft, "g'night..." before drifting off to sleep.

seonghwa smiled, kissing your head as he picked up his phone. he watched the recorded video, already getting hard again. he smiled as he went onto his messages.

he scanned the contacts of his members, who should he send this video to?

©BRRRKDSLEK 2023

384 notes · View notes

sinfulsalutations · 8 months

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𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ꜱᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛ

⋆ ★ ᴜʜ ʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ ɪ ꜱᴘᴇᴡᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Hunter

The sergeant is very unruly in the bathroom.

He is the shittiest person to share a fresher with.

Somehow manages to leave the whole thing wet as he gets out of the shower, has hair all in the drains and clinging to the shower wall, and the mirror is totally fogged up to the point you have to air out the room for a solid few minutes.

All of his hair products and body care stuff also take up so much counter space, leaving barely enough for yours (which is much more minimal).

You’re trying your best to help Hunter implement new, better habits as time goes on, but it’s proving difficult.

He’d never believe you, but you might insist he’s this way because he likes to relax and not bother in the fresher, as it’s the only time for himself to truly unwind and enjoy himself.

But no. That can’t be the reason why. Right?

Tech

He is a CHRONIC nail biter and skin picker.

It’s just a constant fiddle thing.

Helps him focus on something but he also just gets picky with the state of his nails and the skin surrounding it.

Consistently gets to a point where the poor things are red and swollen and just look painful.

Subtly you try to make him stop; switching to a new soap, coating his nails with bad tasting polish and finish, etc.

It doesn’t work.

He somehow always manages to swerve around it and continue biting his nails.

One day you’ll find a strategy to get him to stop; hint, it might be letting him fiddle around with your hands a little…

Wrecker

Sloppy with food. Like, very sloppy.

If you hand him a full plate, a good portion of it will find its way onto the table, the floor, his pants, his shirt, and the surrounding area of his mouth.

He just can’t seem to keep it all in one place.

It’s not that big of a deal; if he’s truly conscious about it, he won’t actively make a mess (though he might still get some on his clothes and mouth), but a lot of the time, he isn’t.

Either way, it’s kind of charming. Seeing him snarf down food enthusiastically only fits so well with the rest of his character.

Crosshair

This man’s sleep schedule is fuuuuucked; more fucked than Tech’s, even.

He will go to bed early, wake up in the middle of night and stay up until the morning when he finally does fall asleep for a few hours but is forced to wake up and start the day.

Or alternatively, he’ll go to bed very late, sleep until noon, and spend his day taking minor naps only continuing his habit of sleeping later.

The worst part is he doesn’t make any effort to fix it and practically enables it.

What kind of fucked up form of masochism is this? you think.

He’s a quiet riser and sleeper so this habit of his manages not to affect anyone else, but it especially bothers you out of your care for crosshair and his well-being.

You might try and coax him to sleep and wake up at proper times with you, and it might work every now and then— but Crosshair’s sleep schedule doesn’t follow anyone’s orders.

Echo

This boy has really bad posture.

It’s not very obvious compared to Tech’s posture, but it causes him lots of shoulder and neck aches, especially when he’s sitting in the cockpit for too long.

You make jokes about getting him a back brace and he grumbles with a laugh, “I already got enough metal hooked up to me.”

Sometimes when you notice it and see him rubbing at his neck, you get his attention and sweetly tell him ‘shoulders up, love.’

Without fail, he does so with a soft smile and leans over to kiss your cheek as a way of thanking you for the reminder.

ragu list: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @mandos-mind-trick @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @andrakass2 @jesjestraverse @crosshairlovebot @wizardofrozz @dangraccoon @lickylickylicky @captainfresh501 @thebomb-diggity @urmomsmattress @jedi-hawkins @who-would-want-a-broken-heart @cw80831 @bluebird-dreams @ladyzirkonia @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen @eyeluvmusic21 @mythical-illustrator @a-single-tulip

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caesarhamato22 · 1 year

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Friends

Rocketober: Day 1

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: Suggestive themes implied.

Summary: When Kraglin finds you in Rocket's quarters, he questions his captain on who you were. However, Rocket isn't ready to answer that just yet.

It wasn't often that you found yourself anywhere near, let alone on the Bowie. It was too dangerous, even in stationary. You could stumble over stray wires or exposed pipes, you could hit a bunch of buttons and cause the ship to explode, or you could take ship for yourself and never return to Knowhere ever again.

Of course, those were Rocket's over exaggerations. He really just didn't want to see you get hurt on his ship, meaning it would be his fault.

In his eyes, at least.

The only times you were on the Bowie was when he was there. Only him. The rest of the ship would remain empty and silent, the only thing heard being the distant echoing of moaning, partnered with the wet sounds of pleasure.

Good thing the ship was soundproof when it needed to be.

After however long you were there for, Rocket always, always walked you home.

"For two reasons," he'd say. "One, gotta make sure my girl gets home safe, 'cause what kinda partner would I be if I didn't?" And, "two," he had hesitated before mentioning this to you, "I can't have the crew knowin' about you just yet."

Many thoughts had run through your head that day. Questions and doubts, was he embarrassed of you? Ashamed? Rocket wouldn't even associate himself with you if that was the case, he made sure you knew that.

You pondered on his reasoning, wanting to know why you had to be kept a secret from his family.

You were only left worrying for a few seconds before he added to his cliffhanger of a sentence.

"I'm not ready, princess. Not yet."

You understood his side. And with a nod, you respected it. And it hadn't been brought up since.

Spending time with Rocket on the Bowie wasn't rare, but it certainly wasn't common. The rare thing was being left alone on the ship.

It was the next morning when you realised where you had spent the night. His bunk had never been the most comfortable bed to have sex in. That just added to the many reasons why you'd go to your place, usually per his request.

You had more pillows, your blankets were softer, your bed was bigger. Rocket occasionally got genuinely worried that if he didn't set his alarm, he'd never wake up. Being surrounded by your warmth and scent was a trap, and you used it often when you didn't want him to leave. And why would he want to?

So it wasn't a surprise when you woke up with a leg and an arm hanging over the side of his single mattress, with a slight cramp in your neck, and the sheets half way up your bare back.

The bed was barely able to fit you comfortably, let alone both of you. Yet another reason as to why Rocket adored your living space. It was made to have him in it.

One of your eyes peeled open, glancing around the room and taking in every piece of his quarters.

His projects were scattered in every corner, on every spot of the floor and covering his desk. Pieces of metal littered, lost, and forgotten, or perhaps left there for when he returned to fiddle with them however he pleased.

Wearing nothing but the sheets of his bed, you sat up with a groan and ran your fingers through your hair. Visualising how messy it must look, you reached for your brush, only to be reminded that this wasn't your room. Meaning your clothes were elsewhere.

Your eyes scanned the floor, searching through every piece of tech, metal, trash, and clothing that belonged to your dearest Rocket, who constantly told you to “watch out” and “don’t touch that”. Your gaze settled on the outfit you had worn the previous night, bundled up nice and neat beside the bed.

He had a tendency to fold your clothes the morning after an eventful night. You'd never catch him doing it. But you always knew it was him.

And he, being Rocket, was currently nowhere to be seen among everything that littered his living space.

You stood and stretched before picking up and examining your clothes.

No stains. Better than last time.

You two had gone out for a dinner, a rare occasion that Rocket wasn't particularly fond of, but he sucked it up for you. Begrudgingly, but he did.

The outfit you had chosen was much too fancy for the state you were currently in. But it's all you had, so it had to do. It revealed as much as you wanted and covered what you wished.

Rocket had yet to return to his quarters, and you remembered how clear he was about you roaming the ship without him.

So, you waited, respecting his wishes and staying in his room, on his bed, prolonging your morning routine as best you could with what you had.

You weren’t sure when he’d be back, and you weren’t even sure when he left, but you assumed if he had left you here alone, it wouldn’t be long.

The smooth sliding of Rocket’s bedroom door opening made your head snap up.

“Rocket, you—“

Your eyes locked on a man’s stomach for a single second when you realised that was not the face of the raccoon you had spent countless nights with.

Letting your eyes quickly flick up to his face, seeing a short brown and grey stumble along his jaw and a tall red fin wired into his head like a mohawk. His light brown long sleeved shirt came in contrast to Rocket’s short sleeved blue one.

His focus went from the device in his hand to your face, taking note of the smudged make up and your slightly disheveled hair.

“Who are you?” He had asked after pausing. Startled but not scared. Definitely confused.

“I’m…”

You couldn’t tell him how you were connected to Rocket, that was the one and only thing on your mind. Didn’t matter who this guy was, you had made a promise to your partner.

“Why are you in here?”

“I’m a friend of Rocket’s.” Your words were quick. You thought it was the best, and most harmless thing you could say to this stranger.

It was obvious he knew Rocket. That fact was made clear by him simply being on the ship is such a relaxed manner, without others to guide him around.

“Oh,” his voice was quiet, almost unsure. “A friend?”

You nodded and blinked once when your eyes had started to sting from keeping them so wide for so long.

“And why isn’t he in here with you?”

The amount of questions he was asking made you nervous. You almost thought he knew the answer to all of them, but the confusion on his face told you he was genuinely baffled that a stranger was in Rocket's quarters. On Rocket's bed.

You would be shocked too, if you weren't the one being talked about.

“He left.”

“Left?”

“Not sure where. Or when.”

You weren’t entirely helping your case here, but it was the best you could do to avoid telling this man who you were really were to Rocket.

At times, you weren’t even sure who you really were to Rocket.

The man’s eyes glazed over you, every part of you, taking in every detail almost is if he was making a judgement on what to do you with you.

It wasn’t the most comfortable stare, but his eyes didn’t seem to carry any malicious intent.

“Might be best for you to wait outside for the Cap'n to come back."

He spoke politely but his face was stern. And rightfully so too, you couldn't blame him. Based on his knowledge, you could have snuck onto the ship and taken anything you damn well pleased.

Of course, that wasn't was what happening at all.

But you couldn't tell him that. 'Not yet', per Rocket's pleading request.

With a nod, “sure, of course,” you left the room.

The man followed behind you by just a few feet. A reasonable distant to be not too close, but able to be certain you were heading towards the exit.

Making it to the open doors of the ship was an awkward journey. The sounds of your footsteps clanked off the walls no matter how soft you attempted to walk. Your posture was straight and your head was up, yet it was clear you were embarrassed by the red tint on your cheeks.

You took in each detail of the ship that you seemed to have missed all the three or four times you had visited the inside of the Bowie. Wires, bags, the occasional chewed up toy, it wasn’t just a ship the Guardians eused for missions, it was a home.

It made you want Rocket to bring you here more often.

But that was something for you ask when you weren’t being escorted out of the ship by one of his crew members.

You reached the large open door of the Bowie, the same Guardian still guiding you further out of the ship.

"What are you doing?"

Your eyes had landed on Rocket before he managed to ask that question. He took his last couple steps towards you, but his eyes were locked on the person who had confronted you back in Rocket's room, the man who was still standing behind you with his hand on your back, a subtle motion to forbid you from trying anything.

You felt like you were being arrested, which you technically could have been, if any of the Guardians chose to do so.

"She was in your quarters, Cap'n." He explained, almost with a stammer.

"I know." Rocket's gaze flickered over you, showcasing a twinge of softness before locking back on his fellow Guardian. "I left her there."

"You ... Respectfully, Rocket, I think leaving your … hook ups alone on the ship," he spoke carefully, "ain't the best idea."

"Hook up-?" Rocket took another step closer. "She's not a fuckin' 'hook up', Kraglin."

Finally knowing the man's name brought some ease to your soul, letting you exhale through your nose, quiet and soft. It was comforting, in a way, to know the name of at least one of the people Rocket spends each of his days with.

"i just ..." Kraglin glanced at you. "I just assumed-"

"Can you get your hands off her?"

Kraglin's hand dropped from your back as he took two cautionary steps to the side. "Uh, yeah, yeah, sorry ... ma'am-"

"Don't call her 'ma'am'."

Kraglin took one extra step back. "Right." He was surprised by Rocket's hard glare. It wasn't angry, but somehow eerie. His stance was relaxed while his eyes were unblinking. "Who is she?" Kraglin built the courage to ask.

"My ..." Rocket now froze. His glare transferred to you, his eyes softening once more as his mind searched for the best answer to give his co-pilot. His brain rattled for an explanation as to why this strange woman was in his room. And in that outfit.

The moment he had taken it off you last night was still fresh and replaying in his mind.

So was the moment he folded them the morning after.

"She's a friend."

Kraglin looked at you but your eyes were on your friend. Taking in every piece of his expression and body language just to know if he believed his own words.

"Alright." Kraglin hesitated while his hands brushed against his pants twice before extending one to shake yours. "It’s nice to meet you."

Slight confusion made your brows furrow. The tension in your face quickly melted when you looked at his hand then into his eyes. You return the gesture, shaking his hand with a gentle smile.

"You too, Kraglin."

He offered a nod to you and a quick side glance to Rocket. From what you could see, he presenting a sly smile to his captain. A knowing smile.

Rocket only replied by nodding his head and avoiding his eyes, keeping his line of sight to the ground while Kraglin walked off, leaving the two of you in a moment of silence.

It broke when Rocket spoke up while keeping his eyes on the ground, searching the dirt surrounding his feet for something interesting to distract himself with.

"What did you tell him?"

You looked at him, hoping he'd look at you, but the gravel seemed to be holding his attention with an unyielding grasp.

"That we were friends."

His ear twitched, "nothing else?"

You shook your head, "nope. Not even my name."

He sighed, and his eyes gradually made their way up to yours, who had been waiting patiently. His right hand gestured forward, in a way of offering his gratitude, before being placed back on his hip.

"Thank you."

You shared a small smile, understanding his worry. The worry he had mentioned to you before in that trembling voice you had only ever heard from him once.

"You're welcome, Rocket."

DAYUM THAT TOOK FOREVER

Anywhozzle, hope you enjoyed Day 1! And I apologise for the future days delay, but they will be posted!

Rocketober List

#Rocketober #Rocketober 2023 #31 days of Rocket Raccoon #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon #x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg v3 #gotg vol 3

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

Text

Tidy Little Secrets: part IV

previous parts | next part

a/n: it’s been a minute… this won’t make sense if you haven’t read the previous parts.

summary: harry was naughty so y/n seeks revenge

tw: smut, angst, cheating, breeding, grammatical errors, etc.

wc: 2k-ish

Harry lowered his head to give you one final kiss before heading inside. “Would you like to help me choose my outfit?” he called over his shoulder.

Not needing any further invitation, you followed him into his extensive closet, marveling internally at the overwhelming array of labels you saw. In the end, you chose a plain white button-up shirt and navy blue pants, to which he added his coat and one of many pairs of dress shoes.

“Get out of here while I get dressed.” he joked, swatting your ass with his shirt as he pulled it off over his head. “I’m a very modest man.”

Giggling, you exited the room and beelined for the bathroom, knowing that he would need in there as soon as he finished getting dressed. You used the few minutes to yourself to ponder the events of the morning, waking up, sitting with Harry on the couch, and helping him water his flowers. You wished it was something you would get to experience for the rest of your life, but a pang in your heart told you that your wasn’t going to pan out like your visions.

“Baby, I need to get in and brush my teeth!” Harry called from outside, banging his fists on the door. “I’m going to be late for my meeting on account of you.”

“Oh, simmer down, hot shot,” you chided as you opened the door to his tall, perfect figure. “If your presence is requested on your day off, they can wait a moment for you to arrive.”

Peering at his reflection in the mirror, he ran his fingertips across the stubble growing around his jaw and chin and contemplated whether or not he should take the time to shave it.

All you could do was lean your head on the counter and watch his every move in adoration. He didn’t find the staring unusual in the slightest; he lived by the idea of admiring what you have, while you have it.

~~~

“Are these yours?”

“Are what mine?” You made your way back into the bathroom where Harry was standing, a toothbrush in one hand and a small, purple pair of underwear in the other.

“These,” he repeated around his mouthful of toothpaste.

“Harry,” you breathed in astonishment as you looked at the panties dangling from his finger. “There’s no way on God’s green earth that I’d ever be able to fit into those.”

“Oh.” A wave of heat hit Harry’s face. He looked more guilty than anything you’d ever seen. “Oh.”

~~~

“Harry,” you insisted at dinner on Monday night. “I’m not asking for an apology. I’m asking for the truth.”

“I know y’are, lovie,” Harry agreed, still refusing eye contact, choosing instead to fiddle with the ring on his pinky. “You deserve the truth. This just isn’t the right place.”

“It’s Monday night. No one’s here,” you pleaded. “If you you owe me anything, it’s an explanation. Not food.”

Harry tapped his painted thumbnail against the foot of his glass, swirling the ice around inside of it. “If you want me to explain here, I will.”

“It just depends on how much you value us.”

“I saw a girl once,” he began, making timid eye contact for the first time that evening.

“Only once?” you prompted.

“Only once since we’ve been together,” he confirmed. “I’d seen her before that.”

You remained silent for a moment, digesting the information. You downed the remainder of your drink before looking back at Harry with teary eyes.

“It’s too cliche to apologize, isn’t it?” he barely dared to ask,

“Say what you want,” you muttered. “It’s your life. Just know it doesn’t change anything.”

Harry felt a pang in his heart. He felt your eyes on him, assessing his emotions through his facial features. Looking down at his lap, he resorted to going through his mental photo album.

Y/N scared on her first day of work. Y/N asleep on his couch when he came home late. Y/N assessing his bookshelf. Y/N reveling at his shoe collection. Y/N in the golden morning sunlight in his garden on Saturday morning. Y/N looking at him as if he was the only man in the world.

He didn’t notice the tears falling down his cheeks until it was too late. Drawing in a sharp breath through his nose, he used his thumb to discreetly wipe the fallen tears off his cheeks and blink away the wetness accumulating in his eyes.

Standing over his table was a familiar waitress; Aria. “How is everything going over here?” she asked with a smile, flipping her high, curled ponytail animatedly as she spoke. “Unfortunately, our chef misread your order and it will take approximately forty-five more minutes until it will be ready. Are you okay with that or ready for your final bill?”

Harry searched Y/N’s eyes for an answer, but before they could confer, she answered for him.

“We’re ready for our bill. Two separate tabs, please.”

~~~

Despite your falling out with Harry, you agreed to continue working for him under the condition that you would no longer cook his meals. You refused to greet one another at the beginnings and ends of shifts, and if Harry attempted to contact you in any way, he would find it impossible.

On Friday of the next week, the doorbell sounded through the mansion. Gradually, you made your way from the third story sitting room down to the entryway, cleaning what you saw fit on the way. Assuming Harry had come home early and forgotten his key, you were in no rush to open the door.

However, as you reached ground level, you noticed a silhouette at the door that didn’t belong to Harry. Embarrassed, you flung the door open, apologizing profusely for dawdling to answer.

“It’s perfectly fine,” the man answered, his voice etched with an Irish lilt. “Gnarly scratch,” he noticed, pointing at Harry’s orange Ferrari, which was parked in the open garage. “What happened?”

“Don’t mind the car. You know how rough men can be. Can I help you?” you said shortly, standing up taller.

“I’m Niall, Harry’s next-door neighbor. I was wondering if everything’s alright around here. It’s really no big deal.” Clearly uncomfortable, the man shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and glanced from your sneakers to his loafers and back up at your face. “In all honesty, I was expecting Harry to be home, given he doesn’t work on Fridays.”

“That’s funny,” you replied vaguely. “Harry’s at work as we speak.”

“It’s really none of my business,” the neighbor concluded, turning around to leave. “I couldn’t help but notice the disarray in his backyard. I’ve never known him to keep the gate open.”

“His backyard or front yard?” you clarified. “What’s wrong with the backyard?”

“There’s trash everywhere. The flowerbeds are destroyed. I assumed you’d have noticed since you’ve been here all morning.”

“Wait here for me,” you barely had time to call over your shoulder as you disappeared into the house, leaving the door agape behind you. “You’re welcome to come in,” you added awkwardly as you entered the kitchen.

Sure enough, the backyard was absolutely devastated. Harry’s prized flowerbeds were ripped to shreds. His recycling bin lay on its side, contents splayed out over the entirety of the lawn. Your jaw dropped as you assessed the damage behind the mansion. Although you had no part in the destruction, it made you feel horrible for scratching his car and pruning the bushes a little too much.

Negatively awestruck, you returned to the front hall where Niall remained, toying with his sleeve cuff. He was clothed in a casual blue button-up, unbuttoned at the top to expose his chest and a generous amount of hair, and relaxed jeans. “I might need to check the back cameras,” you explained, opening the camera app and scrolling through hours of the morning’s fruitless footage.

Niall scooted behind you, squinting to make out shapes in the darkness of the screen. The backyard camera clearly depicted a creature, small and furry, nuzzling open an unintentionally locked door and ripping the gorgeous yard to shreds.

“I wonder if Harry knows,” you barely dared to whisper.

“By the way I’ve known him to watch his cameras, he’s bound to,” Niall assured you. As you and Niall made conversation, the footage played mindlessly in the background. Night turned to morning and something in the garage caught Niall’s eye. “Switch to the front camera real quick.”

Without thinking, you switched cameras, your stomach instantly sinking with regret.

“Is that… you?”

“Maybe?”

“You scratched Harry’s car?”

“With a car key? Yes.”

“Can I take a stab and guess why?” Niall licked his lips nervously, waiting for your eyes to tell him yes.

“You scratched the door of Harry’s million-dollar Ferrari because he’s been seeing other girls while you were together.”

You nodded sullenly. “Wanna guess what my earbuds were playing?”

“Don’t tell me.” Niall rolled his eyes mockingly. “Carrie Underwood?”

You shook your head, trying to laugh the magnitude of the situation off. “No. But it’s a good story, am I right?”

“Definitely.” Niall looked at you with downtrodden blue eyes before reaching for the doorknob. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. If you ever decide you need more revenge.”

~~~

“This is my kind of revenge.”

“You could say that again.”

The conversation between thrusts was minimal; most of the sound accounted for was those that accompanied sex. Doing it with Niall was different than with Harry, but arguably better. Whether it was the sweet taste of victorious revenge or cum, it didn’t matter. The idea was to make Harry jealous, and it was all but guaranteed to succeed.

“I don’t even care if Harry’s jealous,” you decided, reclining against Niall’s chest, running your fingers through the sheer layer of hair covering it.

“Don’t you?” Niall’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as you spoke, caressing your hands absentmindedly.

“Not at all. Not only are you bigger, but you feel amazing.”

Niall chuckled to himself, lowering his face to the side of yours. “I’ll get you nice and stretched out for him,” he teased. His lips feathered along the curve of your ear, his breath tickling it as he whispered. “Dozens of little Y/Ns, all of them bearing my last name.”

“Niall!” you gasped, giggling to yourself as you squirmed to escape his tongue. “That’s naughty!”

“It doesn’t take a genius to assume you’re fertile,” Niall shrugged. “I’d do anything and everything you’re comfortable with. Picture me without the condom.”

He used his hands on your hips to roll you onto your back, where he began fucking into you from behind. His trimmed fingernails dug small dimples into your ass. “If any man tries to do you wrong again, they’ll be met with the permanent visual of my dental records on your ass.”

As Niall’s hands grew sweatier, his grip on your shoulders loosened and slipped. His heavy breathing was peppered with shaky moans as he thrust into and out of you.

His length swelled with pleasure as your walls corroded with his skin. Droplets of liquid leaked from his tip, mixing with the arousal between your lips. Your thighs burned as you approached your climax, craving relief.

~~~

“I love you, Y/N,” Niall told you plainly as he showed you to the bathroom to clean up. “I only hope I didn’t overstep at all this evening.”

“Not at all,” you assured him. “It was marvelous.”

“Sleep in as long as you like. I’ll be on the couch in the living room if you need anything. My housekeeper will be here in the morning, but don’t worry about her. You can never outstay your welcome.”

~~~

Taglist: @victoria-styles @witchywolfewood27 @ilovemuppets @rueluvsharry @sunshinemoonsposts @namelesssav @lukesaprince @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mrspeacem1nusone @cayleyhannha-blog @babygirl-jj @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze @daphnesutton (I couldn’t tag all of you):

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trippygalaxy · 1 year

Note

(i was not thinking at all when i wrote this — 🐈‍⬛)

when the new tenant first moved next door, you had no intention to meet him.

when you had peaked through the curtains and shades of your window after hearing the unmistakable slam of a moving truck's sliding door and ramp, you had seen the back of a rather muscular man.

from what little you saw of his face when he turned told you it was tattooed like one of his friends that was helping him bring boxes in, solidifying your apprehension.

the following night was rowdy.

the nine of their voices had easily carried into your apartment through the thin walls. they had referred to each other by (what you hoped were) nicknames and shared their continued support of time's new apartment until the latest hours of the night.

it was only when the loudest of them fell asleep that you were able to call it a night.

it's afternoon when you wake up. you have to force yourself to work through what should be your morning routine before any more of the day slipped from you-- you couldn't let your new neighbor and his loud friends ruin it when you'd been so good at staying on top of it.

you're about to make yourself a lazy lunch when there's a heavy-handed knock on your door and you couldn't be more glad to have freshened up as early as you did. no one that you knew in the complex had a knock like that and meeting your new neighbor with morning breath would've been hell.

he's holding a basket filled with flowers, milk from a brand you recognize as lon lon, sweets, an expensive bottle of wine, and a few other cheap housewarming items you buy when you don't know anything about your neighbor.

not only that, but you realize you had grossly underestimated how tall he was. that brief view from the window didn't serve him justice.

he had given you his own up-and-down with his one eye if the way it lingered every time it roamed up was anything to go by.

you're shaken from your thoughts when he says "hey," in a low, raspy voice filled with timbre. you'd say it was gone from the night before if you hadn't heard him speak in that same voice the night before.

"i-- erm.. didn't realize you were in last night, so sorry for the noise."

it's not as though each apartment had a specific parking space and you were the only one he shared a wall with, so you'd give him that.

he brings your attention back down to the basket he held when he holds it out to you. "i just moved in yesterday, so i'm sorry if i make a lot of noise because of unpacking and whatnot."

"you're fine," and you can't figure out whether or not you meant that you forgive him or because he was an attractive man. "a heads up would be nice, though."

the man hums in acknowledgment, watching as you retreat a few steps into your apartment to place the basket on a nearby counter. "i'll keep that in mind."

when you turn back to face him, he looks like a lost puppy standing at the door.

he shifted his weight ever so slightly on his legs to the point it would almost be unnoticeable if you weren't actively paying attention. he had his arms behind his back, but you could tell he was fiddling with something behind him by the way the muscles of his arms flexed and relaxed.

the lack of sleeves on his fitted t-shirt did him no favors in revealing the movements.

"did you want to come in?" you don't know what prompted you to ask. either his pretty face, or nervous body language? it was both, more than likely. "i was just making myself something to eat."

(you don't know where you got the energy to make something bigger than a sandwich and a few fruits, but it was there now. it'd be a waste not to use it.)

you're almost self-conscious of your apartment when he steps in and closes the door behind him. the way his eye looked over every piece of furniture and the various trinkets that littered the shelves would've made you run away if it weren't your home.

he's quicker to notice you watching him when he's a few steps away from you. "i like it," he voices with a vague gesture, "it's nice. it's very-- uhm.. unique, in a good way."

you don't bother prying a better answer out of him. it'd be painful for you both.

"are you allergic to anything?"

"no," he's quick to respond, glad to have the topic change. "i don't have any preferences either. i'll eat anything."

"even poison?"

his tongue shoots around in his mouth. he looks like he wants to say something, but he instead settles on "maybe," with a playful expression.

(you think a root of hope takes place within you.)

conversation comes easily after that. he tells you about his work on the same farm he got the (shockingly high quality) milk from and a few things about his group of friends (who called themselves the chain, funnily enough) from the night before, additionally mentioning how they were all significantly younger than him and how one of them-- the other one with face tattoos-- was his son.

"what's your name again?"

he looks up from the plate of food you had long since placed in front of him, brows raised when he realizes that neither of you had, in fact, exchanged names.

"the others call me time." he huffs out a laugh when he sees your brow raise. "like father time because i'm so old. my name is link."

"the others..?"

"they're link as well."

"and so you, in good conscience, made your son a junior?"

"in my defense, i didn't realize he would make so many friends with the same name."

"which should i call you then?"

"whichever you like more," he hums. "just know it might be confusing around the others depending on which."

when he gives a belly laugh at your response of "how fun, sir," you couldn't help but be thankful that he and his wife separated.

MMMMMMM GOOD SOUP—

I love the idea of reader slowly being introduced to the other boys, either they run into eachother in the hall/street OR Time brings them to visit when thr pair becomes closer!!

Also love the thought of Time just taking but the majority of a door frame?? Its so funny to think of him shrinking in on himself as he tries to waddle his into his/others houses.

THE ‘YOURE FINE’ BIT??? ME TOO HONESTLY—

Also very very very sweet of Time to give them a basket as an apology!!! Kinda made a shit first impression but INSTANTLY made up for it <33

#trippy answers #anon ask #tales from the void #🐈‍⬛ anon #dilf time #heheh #modern au #?

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pellucid-constellations · 2 years

Text

A Correspondence of Obligation - Seven

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Nightmares, a bit of angst, soft protective Bucky :)

a/n: I appreciate feedback so much, let me know what you think! Thank you for reading ♡♡

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

You woke with a start, forehead chilled by the night breeze, chest heaving with labored breaths. It took a moment for you to ground yourself and collect the scene. Your sheets, the window Bucky had left ajar, the book he had been reading propped up on your side table; all proof that you were home and that you were safe.

Two weeks ago, you would have woken up worse. You would have been screaming and inconsolable and confused, and Bucky would somehow get to you before your guard could. He would shoulder your door open and take your panicked features between his hands, whispering reassurances that your mind was too frenzied to even comprehend.

The next morning, Natasha would tell you that she had made it into your room as well, but that her presence was hardly noticed. Your face would heat as she described the prince backed up against your headboard, his arms around you and his lips constantly brushing your head. Of course, you remembered all of that, but there was always a hint of embarrassment when it came to showing so much vulnerability.

Tonight was different, however. You could tell by the missing ache in your throat that you hadn’t woken up screaming, and regaining your bearings took seconds instead of minutes. It was a small kind of victory, but it also meant that Bucky wouldn’t come back to your room for the night.

You had fallen into a sort of routine with him ever since that first night. He would visit you after dinner with a candle and a book, suggesting that the words would put your mind at ease and allow you to sleep. He always stayed until you were heavy against his shoulder, but he never slept in your room. A pointless act, really, given that he was back beside you in just a few short hours, his voice lulling you back into a fitful slumber.

You figured he must’ve been annoyed after so many nights of the same, but when you had asked him as much—on one of the nights he had thought to throw the window open after your breathing had evened out—he looked appalled.

“Of course not. Why would you say that?”

You let out a shuddering sigh, Bucky’s heartbeat a soothing lullaby beneath your ear. “I wake you up so often. It must feel like a burden when I was hardly even injured that night.”

You felt Bucky’s neck crane from above you, his grip around your shoulders tightening. “You witnessed death, y/n. You were taken and men died around you—on top of you. I do not fault you for the way you are coping with that. I will come to your room every night if that’s what needs to be done.”

“But you have witnessed death,” you whispered, fiddling with the material of Bucky’s nightshirt. “You have witnessed far more than I ever will, and still, I am the weak one.”

When he moved away and sat you up, you were sure it was out of frustration or realization. He must have finally seen where your worries sprouted from and grown tired of your constant needs. But he leaned down to meet your gaze as he sat before you on the bed, and his face showed little of either emotion.

“You are not weak, my love,” he assured, tilting your head up with gentle fingers. “No one should be used to such pain—to death and rage. I pray to god that you never witness more than you already have… that you never become accustomed to its effects.”

Bucky stayed a bit longer on that night, long enough for a delicate morning sun to cast a glow on the lips he pressed to your forehead. You remembered because he was always touched by the moon when he left, and watching his hair lit by a warm amber hue was enough to grant you an extra three hours of peaceful sleep.

You always wished he would wake you up fully when he left, because the few times you had sat up before he reached the door, he had kissed you. Fully. Not a brush on the forehead or the cheek, but a kiss with his hands on your cheeks and a smile on your lips.

That wasn’t to say that Bucky never kissed you. No, it seemed that Bucky spent much of his day looking to do the opposite. He kissed you before meals and under the sconces of the hallway; in the gardens when you looked far away and within yourself, and by the sea when the boats stole your attention. But those were always quick and chastise, as if he couldn’t help but kiss you, even with others so near.

In the privacy of your rooms, before most of the castle was awake, those kisses meant more to you. They spoke of promises and reassurances, deep affection pressed into your skin and meant to stay there—to linger and flourish and provide comfort long after he had left.

God, you loved when he kissed you before he left.

You let out a long breath and ran a hand along your forehead, attempting to calm your racing thoughts even as they strayed toward Bucky. It was a futile attempt; you knew that without him here to press you into sleep, there would be no relief tonight. You supposed that was something you should get used to with the wedding still weeks away.

The curtains fluttered to your right, the breeze inviting as it flowed through your room and met the skin not covered by your quilt. Perhaps you would try to read yourself to sleep with whatever book Bucky left behind.

Truth be told, you had no idea what he brought in each night, content to simply listen to the timbre of his voice and wrap yourself up in the scent of him. Knowing him, he probably brought the most boring literature he could muster up, baring its mundane content in the hopes it would bore you to sleep.

You never got the chance to find out; the moment your fingers brushed the spine, your door creaked. Your sharp inhale was short lived as Bucky made himself seen almost instantly. He gave you a small, comforting smile as he stood a few paces from your bed, hands resting behind his back.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, no louder than a whisper.

You sat up, resisting the urge to beckon him to you; you weren’t in a state of panic, so he didn’t need to be in your bed. That would be illogical. “No, I woke up a few minutes ago.”

His eyes widened a fraction. “I did not hear you—”

“I did not wake up like that,” you comforted, playing with a thread on your blanket. “It wasn’t… pleasant. But it was nothing like it has been. Nothing to worry yourself over.”

You gave him a small smile, one he reciprocated as he shifted the weight between his feet. This was far more stiff than it had been every other night, your lack of hysterics surely the cause. When you were afraid and in need of desperate comfort, Bucky always knew what to do. But this—when you simply wanted him near without a visible cause, without a marriage bed to validate his presence—it was stiff.

Bucky seemed to share the sentiment as he stood there, looking impossibly endearing with his hair askew and his legs restless beneath him.

“Did you… did you have a nightmare? Is that why you came?” you posed, trying desperately not to eye the pillow beside you that he usually occupied.

He simply shook his head. “Nothing like that.”

“Have you not been able to sleep?”

“I can sleep, princess.”

You let out a small huff. “Bucky, you are making this very hard on me.”

“My apologies,” he chuckled. You never got to see his eyes so light at this time of night; they were usually heavy with worry. “I, uh, I don’t usually fall asleep until I know that you are. Ever since that first night, it makes me uneasy to think I could sleep through you needing me.”

You gaped, guilt filling you up until your face scrunched up in disapproval. Bucky loved you, told you that himself, but you hated the thought of him suffering because of you. He was a prince with many duties, and you were causing him to lose even more sleep than you originally thought.

“I assumed I woke you up every night with the screaming. I didn’t know that you…”

He caught the regret in your tone and quickly shot his hands out to wipe away the thought. “No, darling, no. It’s not your fault. Consider this a weakness of mine and not yours. You’ve never asked me to do anything. I can sleep, as I’ve said, but I sleep easier knowing you are alright.”

You worried your bottom lip, but nodded, even with the guilt still creeping through you. He seemed overjoyed that you would give in so quickly, but that was something else you were working on as well: accepting the type of love that Bucky was so persistent in showing you. After many talks and pleading whispers, you had begun to give in—just the slightest bit.

That joy on his face dimmed as another breeze rolled through your room, a reminder of the night, of the darkness beyond the curtains.

“I can see that you are well, though.” He took a small step back. Your heart clenched. “So I will see you in the morning, darling.”

Another step back and he touched the brass handle of your door, eyes still locked on yours because, clearly, he wasn’t going to ask to stay. This was your bedroom, after all, and after the events leading up to your attack, he was still treading lightly around you. He never wanted to take more than he was given, and he certainly didn’t want to push you away due to his own actions.

But after two weeks, you wished he would push again.

“Wait!” you called, and he removed his hand before the word could leave you fully.

“Yes?”

“I am not well.”

He furrowed his brows, apparently not expecting such a blunt answer. “You are not… well?”

You shook your head, reaching for the book on the table and sliding it into your lap. “No, I am not. I think I need you to read again. Perhaps when I fell asleep earlier, my mind was not satisfied with where the story left off.”

The smile on Bucky’s face was full and meant only for you. He removed his shoes by the foot of your bed and shook his head with what you could only assume was fondness, grabbing the book and pressing a kiss to your forehead before slipping under the blankets beside you.

He pulled you close and brushed your hair behind your ear as he stared down at you, filling you with such an indescribable warmth. It was true that you weren’t well before this; there was a strong chance that every night you would have to sleep without Bucky would be a night that you were unwell.

“I think your mind will continue to be disappointed, my love,” he spoke, the words rumbling in his chest and traveling through you. “This is, unfortunately, a rather dull story. I grabbed the first thing on my desk before I came to you earlier, and that just so happened to be my tax log.”

Your face heated, a shy laugh breathed out against his shirt. “Well, then that is why I was so discontent. Why would you bring that to read to me?”

“I did not want to be late.”

You shook your head in slight disbelief, burrowing further into Bucky’s comfort as he flipped open to a random page. He scanned it, and then glanced down at you in his arms, face softening before returning to the words. It only took a few moments before you spoke up.

“Perhaps we could just sleep? Would that be alright?”

It would mean more if he came and simply rested—if there were no screams or panic or words from a political log. Bucky seemed to understand that, and closed the book with a soft snap. “Of course,” he whispered.

He shifted you, sliding down until the pillows rested beneath his head and his heart rested beneath yours. His arms wound around you and his lips met your hair and you were sure there had never been a feeling more serene than this. The memories that plagued your dreams were still there, but they were set behind the walls that Bucky had formed for you, forged by the solace of his touch.

You weren’t sure how long it took before you began slipping into unconsciousness, your mind battling to hold onto the feelings of the waking world, but before you could completely fall, Bucky spoke against your temple.

“I’d like to show you something tomorrow, if that would be alright? In the morning, because it looks perfect then.”

Your lashes fluttered at the uncertainty lacing his tone, something that had surfaced over the last few weeks. It was as if he was afraid to toe a line with you, always looking for more but never wanting to reach too far—a sharp contrast to the man that would ask for your hand in the gardens and request nighttime conversations in empty hallways. He was trying. You were grateful.

And you still held reservations after everything that happened; still felt a pang within your chest at the images left to linger in your mind. But with each soft look from him, paired with hopeful smiles and gentle touches, you were healing.

“Okay, Bucky,” you agreed, a soft whisper almost lost to sleep. “Wake me when it’s time.”

A smile against your skin was his response, followed by an array of gentle kisses pressed there. Outside, the owls were alone with the moon, soon to be joined by the morning sun and you along with it.

You quickly learned that when the prince said the morning, he meant it. Recently, he had been adamant that you were to sleep as long as you needed, no wake up calls or early morning meetings disrupting the little sleep you were able to catch.

The first morning that rule had gone into effect had been chaotic and almost comical, the frustration held in Bucky’s posture making the throne room tense. It was only two days after the attack, and it was clear it had taken a toll on you.

“Peter,” Bucky chastised, words spoken through gritted teeth. “Please, enlighten me—did you wake the princess for this meeting, or was her highness already up?”

From beside you, Peter swallowed hard. You fought the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder; Bucky was so sweet and gentle with you, but you had seen first hand that those acts were not reserved for all. And he certainly didn’t look happy as he pointed his narrowed gaze at the squire.

Peter stuttered. “I, uh—well, your highness, I woke her. But I swear, Prince James, I thought it was needed! I thought she—“

“Tell me, Peter,” the prince posed, a few long, slow steps taken in your direction. “If you were attacked and part of a failed kidnapping ploy, would you enjoy attending a meeting on wheat distribution before breakfast?”

“I… most likely not, Your Highness,” he resigned, head hung.

“And did she not appear tired when you woke her? As if… maybe… the healers had placed her on bedrest?

Peter blanched, his mouth opening and closing and his brow quickly lining with sweat. You swayed a bit beside him, the exhaustion taking over, but not overriding the guilt for causing Peter so much trouble. You brought your hand up to graze the bandage on your head.

Bucky let out a small sigh, finally reaching you and placing a hand on the small of your back. “Do not let it happen again. I won’t hesitate to have Lady Maria assign you chores.”

Peter nodded vehemently, saluted Bucky—a rather odd gesture toward a prince—and shuffled out of the throne room after about ten apologies spoken to the floor in a bow.

The noblemen at the table in the center of the room quickly made conversation as Bucky turned his attention to you, soft eyes scanning your tired features. His hand never left your back, rubbing shapes into your loose gown as you stared up at him.

“You should have told him no,” Bucky reprimanded, but the words held no malice.

“He looked so determined. I couldn’t very well tell him that he was ignoring direct orders when he was so kind as he woke me.”

Bucky raised a brow and pressed forward to guide you to the hall. “You need sleep, darling. Your head—“

“—is not broken,” you finished for him. “I will have to get back to my normal duties soon enough.”

When the doors to the throne room closed behind the two of you, he kissed you. All soft lips and fluttering feelings, he kissed you as if he wanted to remember that you were there. And maybe to make you lose your train of thought as well, his next words saccharine against your mouth.

“Not yet. For me, please. To give me peace of mind.”

You slowly opened your eyes to invite the kindness of his gaze. You were going to agree to go back to your room, anyway, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the earnestness burning back at you.

“I think if you agreed to walk me back, I would be more than willing.”

Bucky kissed you again, short and sweet as he replied, “I would take you anywhere.”

After that ordeal, you always got to sleep until the birds at your window were the ones to make you rise. You were sure Bucky would yell at them too, if he had the means.

But this morning was different; this morning, you felt the first rays of the morning sun across your cheeks, still dim and with little warmth. Bucky was running his fingers along your back in gentle ministrations, whispering your name into incoherent ears. He was waking you, and not by accident, not with the intent to leave right away.

The conversation from the night before resurfaced in your mind. You took a deep inhale. Bucky spoke.

“Good morning, my love.”

You groaned in response, not the least bit regal. He simply chuckled, his hand coming up to the back of your head.

“Would you still like to join me? I can give you a few more hours of rest if you need it.”

You quickly shook your head, dreading the prospect of missing out on something he had planned. He had spent the better part of two weeks sheltering you; this was the first plan he had proposed, and you weren’t about to give that up.

“I will need to call Natasha to help me dress. She is awful so early in the morning—will hold it against me for days,” you mumbled, pushing up to look at Bucky with bleary eyes.

He hummed, fixing the shoulder of the knit he had thrown over you the night before. “What you are wearing is fine. I wouldn’t want your lady to be angry with you.”

“I cannot go walking the halls in my nightgown.”

“You won’t be in the halls.”

“But I will be in my nightgown?” you questioned, an accusatory brow raised at his smirk.

He leaned forward to press a kiss to your brow before standing from the bed. “You will,” he admitted. “I don’t want to lose any light.”

Bucky was back from his room just as you were ready to leave, a robe thrown over your nightgown even though he insisted it would be fine; he could see you in it, but to the rest of the court, you were a royal. And you weren’t too confident in his “no hallways” notion when everything outside of your room required the eyes of guards.

But as soon as Bucky’s feet crossed the threshold of your door, he was guiding you to the back wall. Your face was a picture of confusion when he took his hand from his pocket and let a key dangle from his fingers. You went to reach for it, but Bucky held it back out of view.

“You can have the key,” he started, a smile creeping up on his face at your impatience, “After I show you where to use it.”

You huffed. “Show me then, Prince Know It All.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, stepping past you to face the wall next to your window. He ran his hand down the wallpaper a few times, pressing the pads of his fingers into wood that wouldn’t give. You were about to speak up and let Bucky know that the wall had probably had enough of his prodding, when his nail caught a snag in the paper.

He held the strip firmly between his fingers and pulled until a lock was cleared. The key was in its slot before you had time to ask any questions, a door clicking as the wallpaper gave and ripped along the sides. It tore and tore, the sounds reverberating in the air, Bucky cringing with each tug.

“Sorry, I’ll have this fixed,” he mumbled. “In all honesty, this entrance hasn’t been used since I had your room decorated. I wanted it to be a surprise, and it seems they did a wonderful job at hiding it.”

You barely shot him a look, too enraptured by the short hallway coming into view. It wasn’t much—a few burnt out sconces and a bare stone floor—but there was a light casting shapes at the end of that hall, and Bucky’s apologies quickly became background noise.

You took a hesitant step forward, tilting your head to catch any other clues in the space. A memory shot through you at the rigidness of the charcoal walls; walking freely when a castle was asleep, dripping stones leading you to an outlook with a stolen canvas and paints you weren’t allowed to have. Steve, visiting when he had the time, always startling you with the softness of his footsteps within an echoing passage.

A freedom within a cage. A light in an otherwise dim palace.

And now, some semblance of that was being splayed out in front of you in a place you now called home, a far cry from the suffocation of your youth. It confused you and excited you all within the same breath.

“After you, my princess.”

The first step into the passageway was jarring; the next one was a breath of fresh air and awe so deep you felt it in your gut. The dark hall had become a wide-open room, alight with paneled windows and ceilings out to the sky. Plants flourished with vibrate greens and purples, encasing the art along the walls with its vines and its foliage. Spun glass hung from window sills and swayed with the wind as it gently whispered through translucent curtains. The ground was a tiled pale pink, cracks in each of the stones a sign of trade and imports—a sign of Brookshire.

And in the center of the room, by the widest window, in the widest patch of morning sun, was an array of so many things you used to keep hidden. Easels and paint and brushes finer than anything the stable boy in Hyland could have procured; an empty canvas with nothing but opportunities in its stitching, nothing but an invitation.

You stood in the middle of it all and stepped in a slow circle to take it all in. It made sense why Bucky would want to bring you in the morning; with a new sun peeking bashfully between panels and finding the fractures in the tiles with such ease, you were sure a harsher sun wouldn’t have done as much justice. That a place like this was meant for delicate notions and whispers of beauty.

You’d come back at sunset—if you were allowed.

After so much quiet, you jumped as Bucky’s low voice spoke out, “Do you like it?”

“It is truly beautiful,” you replied, much softer than his question. “Whose room is this?”

Bucky furrowed his brow, stepping forward until loose ivy sprung past his shoulder. It bobbed and coiled back into its original shape, and you watched instead of meeting Bucky’s eye.

“Yours.”

You snapped your gaze up, challenging his sincerity with pure perplexity. Yours? It couldn’t be yours; Bucky wouldn’t have had the time to put this together since you got here, especially seeing as it shared a wall with your room. You would have heard something, caught a rumor or felt a sudden change within the castle’s staff as they went to work on the secret.

It had to have belonged to someone else. His mother maybe, or a cousin. Perhaps, it was just a dayroom and Bucky thought it would be a nice place for you to gather your thoughts after so much stress. But you kept searching his eyes, flitting your own between his, and you found no deceit there. He reached for you as you stood dumbfounded, and when his hands met yours, you remembered.

“You should see the room he has set up for you. There is a door that leads to the—”

Steve, showing you around the castle and trying to talk the prince up before you cut off his speech. He could have been talking about something else, somewhere else, but then…

“Meet me in the gardens at dusk. I have something to show you and I promise it will make up for my absences.”

Bucky had spoken those words to you just hours before your world had started ripping apart at the seams. You had forgotten about the aforementioned surprise after everything had happened, but now, standing in this room, you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Before I saw you and Sharon—” Bucky flinched at your words, the slightest blink, a bit harder than the rest “—was this what you wanted to show me?”

He rubbed his thumbs across your knuckles. “Yes. I wanted to show you on your first day here, but Steve advised me against that. I can genuinely thank him for that, I suppose. You might have run away screaming back then.”

“When did you… when did you make this? Why did you?”

“I started right after Steve told me you liked to paint. You still hadn’t answered a single one of my letters, but I assumed you might like a private place of your own once you got here,” he smiled, brushing a hand up to rest on your cheek. “But then you got here and you never asked to paint, and all I knew about you a few weeks in was that you enjoyed our walks around the gardens… they were the only times you looked at peace.

“So I would take the servants’ entrance and fill the room with the plants you stopped by the most. Became quite the gardener if I do say so myself.”

You giggled, covering his hand with your palm. “What were the plants meant to do?” you breathed out.

He leaned forward and pressed a whisper of a kiss to your forehead. “They were an attempt to make you feel the way I do—whenever you are around.”

You could feel the burn of tears behind your eyes, so overwhelmed by the sight of him in this room meant for you, aglow with honey light and dazed, tired features. He was yours, this was yours, and there was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that you had no idea what love was, but that your stomach flipped every time you saw him; that if there was ever a time something good happened and he wasn’t around to see it, he would be the first to hear it from you; that when he kissed you, your world crashed.

Your throat closed up instead, a few tears escaping onto raised cheeks. You smiled, and Bucky replicated it, almost breathless as he whispered I love you and kissed you as if the world truly was seconds away from coming to an end.

Rushed lips pressed to yours and crimson-tinted glass cast light on corners of the room you would discover later. A cloud passed over the skylight as kisses trailed down to your neck—as hands found purchase in the material of your nightgown and pulled you closer until you were out of breath and weightless.

The entire room simply glowed; you glowed.

It wasn’t until Bucky pulled away—all heavy breaths and lazy smiles—that you remembered a key component of the room. And for the first time in a long time, it excited you.

“Would you like to stay while I paint?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #a correspondence of obligation #prince!bucky

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etherealeeknow · 3 years

Text

the fwb rules

• rated m for mature

• pairing: fwb!hyunjin x fem!reader

• wc: 4.559

• tw: explicit language, light characterization of an insecure reader, unprotected piv sex (stay safe, lovelies!), fingering & oral (f), nipple play, cream pie— i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: last time i said long fic isn’t my forte and this time i’ll still say the same hahahahaha. but still, i hope i don’t disappoint 🥺 please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes. feedbacks are always appreciated because i’d love to grow! thank you for waiting and enjoy 💞 pretty banner made by my bestie!! ilysm ��😽😽

• tag list: @charlieshelves @es-kay-zee @formidxble @oh-my-sparkle @bobateastay @http-hyxnjxn @lyralurexrattle @hyunsluvv @healinghyunjin @sailorhyunjinz

—

what happened to the rules?

it didn’t start off like this. you can’t remember when exactly you started wondering about the five word question. all you know is that you were one bite away from gobbling a spoonful of jisung’s ice cream when it struck you: since when did you and hyunjin stop going by the rules? he’s been occasionally texting you out of the blue lately just to know what you’re up to, and today he even asked you to stay the night at his, and as much as you want to believe they’re all normal, again, it didn’t start off like this. from the beginning, you and hyunjin have come up with three rules so your relationship can work: one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking. but look at you now, lying naked and out of breath under his blanket while facing his ceiling, driving yourself insane over the haunted question. you have to get it off your chest somehow, but how?

“hey, why so serious?” asks the culprit behind your overthinking, causing you to jump slightly over his sudden appearance and your hands instinctively pull up the blanket to cover your naked chest, which as a result, makes him chuckle. cute. “here. it’s my cousin’s,” adds the topless man as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you a white shirt that even under the dim light, you can already tell won’t fit you.

“your cousin? the model? hyunjin, she’s tiny,” you utter, hands still gripping onto the blanket. “i’m—“

“you,” he cuts you off, placing a hand on top of yours while carefully glancing at you to make sure you there aren’t any signs of discomfort. “are fine, y/n. now hurry up. i’m sleepy,” he adds before letting go, leaving behind a lingering warmth on your knuckles.

nodding, you turn your back on him to change, and the room falls silent, causing you to hear how fast your heart is thumping even more than it should have. is it because you had too much coffee this morning? or it can probably be because the shirt is too tight that it’s cutting off your air circulation, right? right, of course. you tell yourself because as much as you dislike both reasons, they are still far better than having hyunjin as the cause.

once you’re done, hyunjin already has his back lying against the bedhead, his head tilting slightly to the side, avoiding the light coming from the night lamp on the bedside table, while his eyes bore deeply into yours. unbothered that he’s been caught staring, he averts his gaze downwards till they reach your chest and spot how your nipples are sticking out through the thin fabric.

“see? it fits you just fine,” he says, turning his vision back to your face as he opens his arms and motions them at you, only to have you remain in the same position with your increasing heartbeat.

“aren’t you gonna, uh, wear something?”

instead of a proper answer, all you get is his laugh—hyunjin’s contagious laugh that usually always succeeds in making you laugh too. but today hits differently. has his laugh always sounded this lighthearted before? no matter what the answer is, one thing for sure is that despite how sweet hwang hyunjin and his laugh are, they have never made your cheeks burn like this before, and this is forbidden. it’s against the rules.

“an hour ago we were naked while sucking each other’s face, y/n,” he finally answers after a while. “besides, i always sleep like this. now, come on,” he adds, repeating the same gesture, except this time his hands are open wider, eager to have you near him again because the space around him is starting to make him feel lonely.

complying with him, you fall into his embrace and hyunjin immediately lets his hands travel to the exact places of where they want to be—one around your head and the other around your waist. despite the room turning less cold with his warmth directly passing onto you, your heart and cheeks conditions remain the same especially since you can hear how hyunjin’s heartbeats are beating just as fast as yours when he lets you lay your head on his chest.

“hyunjin,” you call out, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt.

“y/n,” he replies, replacing the collar with his fingers instead, intertwining them with yours.

what happened to the rules?

“do... do fwb do these?” you ask, the bravery in you finally decide to show up, even just for a little.

“do this?” he asks back while squeezing your hand with all his might, as if he’s nervous.

no. not ‘this’, but ‘these’. not only the hand grabbing, but also the fact that he asked you to stay the night, that he’s cuddling you to sleep, and that you’ve been getting unusual symptoms over them until this very moment.

“yes, this,” you nod and hyunjin becomes muted, but his heartbeats are growing louder, and his grip on you has become tighter.

after what feels like forever, he whispers, voice slightly cracking, and hands getting a little colder, “yes. yes, they do.”

then the two of you become muted, but both heartbeats keep growing louder, and everything stays that way until sleep eventually takes over.

—

as a homebody, you’ve always against the idea of sleepovers. you believe home is the sweetest place and your own bed is the comfiest even when your mattress is older than a decade and your favorite plushie has had too many holes here and there. but waking up in hyunjin’s bed has broken your stigma—never in your whole life that you’d have thought someone else’s bed can provide you twice the comfort.

“looks like someone had a good sleep,” chirps jisung as he sits beside you, causing you to wipe off the smile on your face before going back to your laptop.

“wow suddenly my best friend’s a psychic?”

“hey, that’d actually make a great drama title!” he exclaims and you roll your eyes. “please do spill the tea though. what happened?” he adds.

“what happened?” you ask back, eyes still on the screen, but the corner of your lips are on the verge of breaking into the smile, knowing full well he’ll complain—which he does by lamely calling you a meanie.

laughing, you tell him nothing happened, but the way he rolls his eyes is a sign he’s not taking any of your bullshit. you are telling the truth though. besides spending the night with each other, nothing really happened, right? it was just another casual fucking session. yes, it was amazing, but that’s no news for jisung. the guy’s practically your wingman—setting you up with hyunjin was his idea because he believes you should, “live your life. have that dreamy college sex orelse you’ll regret it like my old man changbin!”

right on cue, a notification popped out on your big screen, and the sender’s name makes your heart pop too.

“aha, see!” jisung points at it. “y/n, where are you?” he reads out loud, earning yourselves all the eyes from every other student in class.

“oh my god, jisung. shut up!” right when you’re about to log out from the chat app, hyunjin sends another one.

“can i call you?” jisung reads once more and you’re only one second away from smacking his head, but your vibrating phone holds you back.

shooting jisung a glare, you make sure to close your laptop before leaving the class, answering hyunjin’s call even when you’re still half way through the door. right when you’re about to greet him hello, hyunjin beats you to it—his voice a bit raspy, but the softness in his tone still lies within, and it creates endless questions in your mind.

has he just woken up? so is this how he sounds in the morning? why is he calling?

and the list goes on because this isn’t like hyunjin at all. sure, he’s not validating the rules, but he’s breaking his character despite already alarming you to anticipate morning booty calls from him at times. he’s never actually done that though.

“hi,” you reply, startling yourself with how small your voice came out.

“you left,” says hyunjin and you can hear him sighing from the other line, which somehow causes a slight pang in your heart, wondering if perhaps he is disappointed. “can you come back? wait, actually, let me go to you instead.” he says and you can hear the rustling sounds coming from his side.

“hyunjin, i have class. that’s why i left. i—” should you apologize? but why should you? casual, no strings attached, and no fucks given, remember? “i’m sorry.”

“oh.” hyunjin stops on his track before plopping back down onto the bed, smiling. “i’ll pick you up after class then. when will you finish?”

unconsciously, a smile creeps up your face too, but the realization hits you right after, then followed by the five word question, and you know—you know this is your guts telling you that now’s the time to ask him about it, but your heart hates confrontation. plus, wouldn’t it be rude to reply to someone else’s question with a question? “hyunjin, are you, uh, horny?”

just like yesterday, hyunjin laughs, and with the raspiness in his voice still present, he doesn’t fail to make you laugh along, but at the same time waking the butterflies in your stomach and makes you rethink your decision. mayhaps, you should’ve left him a note or told him that you’ll leave early in the morning; or even, you should’ve ditched classes today and stayed so when he wakes up, you can get him a glass of water, not leaving the boy uncared for like this. but who are you to do so?

“isn’t it normal for a guy to have a morning wood?” he jokes before quickly adding that he’s not horny. “i just want to see you so let me go get you.”

pressing your lips together, you contemplate on whether you should let him. if you do, won’t you be turning whatever the two of you have right now into something far more complicated? but it’s only until hyunjin adds a desperate “please?” that all of your dilemma disappears, as if you’re being cast into his spell—“okay.”

—

while heading to the gate, you have the biggest urge to book a massage appointment. dodging jisung’s questions and running away from him after the first period was draining, but having to spend the day running back and forth between two buildings because thinking that volunteering as the lecturers’ teaching assistant was draining on a whole new level. other than feeling like your legs are gonna come off, your mind also feels like it’s gonna blow off—you can’t stop recalling all the things you need to start working on as soon as possible, but stepping into hyunjin’s car turns everything to 180 degrees.

you’d like to think that it’s because of the faint lavender aroma coming from his car freshener along with the heavenly cool air conditioner, but no. you know full well it’s because of the way hyunjin’s smile lit up, his eyes disappear into two small crescent moons, and his blonde hair which is becoming one with the warm orange sky that brings peace to your heart.

“hi,” he breathes out the moment you close the door, and you do the same except for looking at him, which causes hyunjin to furrow his eyebrows while speeding away.

the way home is silent, just the way you like it, but you know full well that it’s not hyunjin’s cup of tea. he doesn’t need to say it, his action is showing it all as he’s been fidgeting non stop, wiping his sweaty palm along his jeans while occasionally licking his plump lips. hyunjin’s a very vocal person. he’s talkative and loud—including in bed. you press your warm cheeks over the realization of your own thoughts, embarrassed. you can’t possibly suspect hyunjin for being horny in the morning when you yourself are being like this in the afternoon. it’s uncalled for.

noticing you from the corner of his eye, hyunjin calls out, asking you if there’s anything wrong, totally catching you off guard. what should you say? lying is not your forte, but being honest clearly isn’t the best option right now, at least, not before you shower and appear presentable in front of him—but wait, since when did that matter so much? a few months ago, you even fucked after you ran a marathon.

“y/n?” calls hyunjin for the second time.

“look, hyunjin, really, it’s okay if you’re horny. you can pull over and i can, uh, relieve you and i can just take the bus home after,” you spit out shamelessly while looking at him straight in the eyes, eager to get far away from hyunjin as fast as possible before you go out of your mind.

just like the night before, hyunjin laughs. and just like the night before, his laugh hits differently and it does nothing other than burning your already burnt cheeks for the worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, i’m not horny. i genuinely want to take you home. nothing more,” explains hyunjin, head straight at the road but eyes repeatedly stealing glances at you. “and nothing less,” he adds, voice barely audible but you caught it.

“o— oh.” is all you manage to respond before the ride quickly turns quiet and hyunjin’s hands begin fidgeting again, all the while you’re trying to decode what he has just said—what does he mean by genuinely wanting to take you home? do fwb do this too? what happened to no fucks given?—and it goes on until hyunjin hits the break in front of your old apartment building.

“we’re here,” says hyunjin, breaking the silence by unlocking the car door.

“we’re here,” you repeat after him, already opening the door and setting a foot out. “uh, thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” hyunjin shoots you his signature smile the moment you lower yourself to meet his eye level from outside the car; this time, you have no choice but to fall under his spell.

“hey, uh, you wanna come in?” you ask, biting your lower lip as a way to punish yourself for being so indecisive. one second you want to run away from him and the next second you want to be near him. come on, get a grip.

as if the punishment isn’t enough, hyunjin declines your offer, all while chuckling with his head thrown back. “for the third time, y/n. i’m not horny. go in and rest up.”

“if you say so.” you shrug, giving him a small smile before turning around, making sure not to look back, only to fail when you hear the engine driving away.

—

you can’t quite tell—no, you can’t tell. you don’t get it. there’s an unexplainable empty space in your heart that is caused by hyunjin’s rejection. is it because you’re just not used to see him without having to fuck him? or is it because you’re hurt over the fact that he’s not in the mood to touch you? is it because of last night? is he finally sick of your flaws? things would probably be different if you had retouched your makeup or at least combed your hair before seeing him, would they? either way, you’re fully aware you shouldn’t be torn over your friend with benefits, yet your aching heart says otherwise.

and so when the doorbell rings only a few seconds after you get in and the figure you see through the peephole is no other than the man in question, you spare no time to swing the door open. hyunjin, in return, spares no time to lock his lips with yours right after he utters a brief apology. just like the way hyunjin sneaks his playful hands down your ass, you sneak your tongue in his mouth, and your action makes him smile into the kiss as he leads you back into the room and kicks the door shut with his long legs.

the way to your bedroom is actually pretty short, but with your tongues moving in sync, bodies pressing—glued, even, and eyes continuously closing in pleasure, the short way to your bedroom consists of endless stumbling, tripping, and bumping the door. once inside, you break the kiss and are about to undress yourself when hyunjin beats you to it, settling you down on the bed as he begins taking off your attire one by one ever so effortlessly. and in just a matter of seconds, his lips are back on yours again, floral scented hair falling and brushing against your cheeks, leaving you no time to wonder over the fact that it’s the first time hyunjin has ever undressed you.

as the kiss continues, you can feel yourself gushing more and more that you start grinding on him mindlessly, needing to feel more than just his bulge poking you. your hands leave his blonde strands to tug on his hoodie, only to have him stop you—one hand around your grip and the other rests on your hip.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“need you. need to feel you,” you mumble, desperation so visible through your cracked voice.

“what happened to the girl who was all flustered to sleep with me last night just because i was shirtless?”

autumn nights aren’t supposed to be hot, but hyunjin has proven he has the power to make the impossible happen just with his words and mocking smirk. but the rising heat on your cheeks is nothing compared to the emptiness you feel below, clenching around nothing surely isn’t the best feeling.

“please, jinnie,” you whine, tugging on his hoodie once more, hips moving against his hold.

“fuck.” is all he manages to say before getting off the bed to disrobe himself—hoodie and track pants thrown across the room, now showcasing his toned body and thighs altogether as he hovers over you.

“please take this off too. it looks suffocating,” you say, index finger running faintly through the bulge forming from his tight boxer, making it stand up even more and hyunjin has no choice but to obey you. “put your hair up too please,” you add just when he’s about to dive right back in, and again, your wish is his command.

biting to pull off his hair tie from his wrist, hyunjin smoothly ties his hair back and you’re only given a few seconds to admire his feature before his plump lips coming in contact with your hardened nipple while he toys with the other using his fingers—rubbing and pinching, making your breath hitch over the sensation, fingers digging into his bare shoulders because you don’t want to mess up his hair, and hyunjin’s low grunts pretty much indicate he’s loving it.

“more, please. give me m—”

hyunjin retreats his hand and tongue away from your breast, moving them to your naked pussy, drawing circles on your outer labia with his middle finger. he teases you just enough and quickly slides in his digit and at the same time sucks on your clit right before you’re about to complain, making you tingle from head to toe.

“you hear that?” he asks, voice muffled, the effect of being too tongue tied from licking every part of your heat, but finger working its magic perfectly, creating loud wet noises from your fluid. “drenched. my pretty y/n is drenched,” says hyunjin, and as much as you want to comment on him for the pet name, you’re too caught up on how his lips vibrate against you the moment he starts palming himself with his unoccupied hand. if he keeps it up, you know you would come undone there and then, and you don’t want that—not yet. so you ask him to stop and he instantly does as told.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” there’s fear written across his expression and heard from his tone, but you’d like to believe your eyes and lips are just playing tricks on you.

“n— no. i just,” you pause to avoid his gazes, but something within you pulls your attention back on him. “i wanna cum with you inside me,” you confess, voice barely audible due to embarrassment; all this time, it’s always been hyunjin to say such things, but perhaps, all the strange tension lately has finally gotten the best of you. you hear him mutter a low “fuck” while his pupils shakes for a brief moment before they somehow appear a shade darker. licking his lower lip, hyunjin pulls you by your legs and rests them on his shoulders, and proceeds to align his tip with your entrance, once again teasing your throbbing core.

the moment you whine is the moment hyunjin pushes himself inside ever so gently, but the stretching still has you throwing your head back, while hyunjin letting our airy moans upon your walls clenching around him. none of you can tell how it’s possible for your vagina to remain so tight after all the countless fucking session for the past half year, but hyunjin doesn’t find that troubling. in fact, he lives for that and it shows from the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he begins thrusting in and out of you—slowly but steady, veiny hands secured on your hips, vision goes back and forth from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

hyunjin leans down to kiss you for a couple of seconds, and when he lets go, he quickens his pace—leaning down once more so his length can go deeper in you, hitting your g-spot. at that very moment, you mentally praise yourself for placing the bedroom mirror right across the bed. it presents you with the magnificent view of hyunjin’s rounded, firm ass bouncing rhythmically whenever he snaps his hips, and placing your hands around them, squeezing them, nearly makes you drool over the sight. with hyunjin constant thrusts, the familiar knot in your abdomen starts to bubble up.

“oh my god,” the two of you whimper in unison as hyunjin begins to lose his tempo, moves also grow sloppy, but never once misses your spot.

“y/n, i— ah— i’m so close. fuck,” he breathes out, sweat forming on his forehead, wetting his baby hair down to his neck and chest, and you can only drool helplessly at the sight.

“me too. please cum inside me, cum with me, hyunjin, please, please,” you beg, voice a pitch higher, almost sounds like you strain your throat, and it stays the same. when you feel hyunjin twitch inside you, your hands automatically reach for the bed sheet again, but it only lasts for a second before they’re being taken by hyunjin’s own hands—he has never done this. while intertwining your fingers, his cock twitches again and his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw falls open as he calls out your name—you naturally do the same, fingers pressing flat against his white knuckles

“hyu—”

“cum, baby,” he cuts you off, averting his hazy eyes on you, and that’s all it takes for you to break—your orgasm washes over you like waves and you cum undone around hyunjin, shaking and mewling altogether while feel the wet coldness around your inner thigh. hyunjin follows right after, shooting his hot cement inside of you; the man can no longer keep his eyes open as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, his choked moans bring music right to your ear all a while his hot breaths bring goosebumps to your unrecovered body.

after riding out your highs, none of you move. hyunjin stays on top of you, his chest rises and falls according to your hard breathing. somehow, it’s calming you down, but it shouldn’t.

“hyunjin, you’re heavy.”

“oh, sorry,” he chuckles and even without looking, you can tell his eyes are smiling too. with his remaining strength, hyunjin pushes himself up and rests on your thighs to pull his dick out of you, momentarily admiring the mixture of his juice and yours dripping down your cunt before fixing his eyes on you to study your face—also something he has never done before.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters a few moments later, eyes now on you.

tilting your head, you sit up, resting your upper body with your hands on the bed. “all of a sudden? i came? you always make me feel good.”

“that’s what i’m sorry about. i— i didn’t mean to— i mean, i—”

you reach out to him, gently patting his thigh. “hyunjin, calm down. this isn’t like you,” you whisper the last sentence, knowing that perhaps, now’s the time to talk things out, to stop whatever is going on, and go back to how things are used to be, maybe? your heart’s just been restless for too long and apparently, hyunjin seems to be in a similar situation too.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to keep using you like this. i genuinely meant what i said. i only wanted to take you home, but we ended up here and—”

“isn’t that what fwb do?” you pull your hand off his thigh, and a frown painted across his face as if he’s questioning your question. “that’s what we agreed on. we have our fwb rules, remember?”

“one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking,” says hyunjin, proving he has memorized every words to the back of his mind.

nodding, you carefully bring back your hand to his thigh, repeating the same movement you did before. “exactly. so you don’t have to be sorry. don’t worry, i’m not feeling used at all.” you end it with a smile.

hyunjin mirrors you, he smiles too; his eyes fall to where your hand is. “but what if i’m breaking them? the rules,” asks the boy whose cold hand is now on top of your warm one. “what if i like you?” his eyes find their way back to you, and that’s when you know. the difference between your temperatures; the difference between your smile and his—the sadness that lies within.

that’s when you understand. everything finally makes sense; every one of hyunjin’s unusual acts. the constant texts and calls, the undressing, the pet names, the facial expression, the hand holding.

what happened to the rules? feelings. that’s what happened. to hyunjin, it’s his feelings over the rules.

but you, what about you? the butterflies, the irregular increasing heartbeats, the flushing cheeks, the overthinking, the disappointment at some point.

“y/n,” hyunjin calls out and you don’t get to get back to him because he’s already an inch away from you, momentarily eyeing your lips before he closes the distance. once again, his blonde hair falls down, brushing against his cheek before meeting yours and it tickles you, but not in the same way as how his kiss tickles your heart; giddy.

what happened to the rules? unwanted feelings. that’s what happened. to you, it’s the unwanted feelings against the rules. and for now, the unwanted feelings are too strong for you to push him away, so you pull him close instead. for now.

—

gen’s masterlist

repeating this!! special note: HUGE THANK YOU for my awesome bestie for the banner 🥺💞💞 ily, bish!! thank you for being my beta reader too 😽😽😽

#gen writes #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #hyunjin fic #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagine #hyunjin imagines #kpop smut #kpop fic

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banqdanfnfic · 4 years

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

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heli0s-writes · 4 years

Text

lights up*

A/N: Stucky (primarily Steve)/Reader. 2k words of idkwhatthisisi’msorry. There was a prompt from six months ago that I wrote this for but I lost the message and I can’t remember! All mistakes are my own, please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

You wake up in scattered shock.

Knee-jerk reaction to fast hands sliding between your thighs, fingers carelessly ticking sensitive skin.

You wake up to a groggy voice, slurred with sleep and raspy-raw.

“Baby,” it croaks from between your legs, “Honey, sweetheart, sugar. Please, please, please let me eat your pussy.”

Wha—

A few disbelieving blinks as you scrabble for your bearings—can’t see shit—still dark—head throbbing.

“Oh god, I wanna sosososo bad,” and then hands are between your knees, spreading your legs apart. “So… damn... tasty. Uh-huh… Come to daddy.”

Who the fuck is—damn it, Bucky.

In the dead hour of four-something when nothing should be moving so intentionally, an unsteady moan tumbles out of him when he starts groping for your ass.

“Buck!” You whisper, kicking your leg to shake him off. Grabbing the covers with one hand, you reach under with the other, swatting his head and trying to get a firm hold on him. Slippery fucking man.

He pauses for a second before his body goes limp, half hanging off the foot of the bed and you groan at his weight. Idiot boy. Two hundred pounds of horny somnambulist dropping like an anchor on your poor legs.

Fiddling now with how to get him back up to his regular spot, you try to do it quietly, the warmth radiating next to your left shoulder a compelling incentive. Even with your wits barely about you, you know better than to wake—

“Whassit? Whas goin’ on?”

Steve. Ah.

“Nothing,” you sigh, reaching over and stroking his arm absently, one foot tapping against Bucky’s waist to urge him upward. “He’s just sleep-talking again.”

Steve makes a groggy noise of comprehension. “Sleep-talking or sleep-fucking?”

“Just sleeping now. Ugh… didn’t mean to wake you.”

He’d come in late again—meetings and paperwork keeping him well after hours. Not even able to do it from home, which would have been nice. At least here you could make sure he was eating, or drinking enough water, or at least be in the presence of good company.

Instead, you and Buck watched a movie, took a few rounds of shots (because he likes the taste and how you look dancing all over the coffee table), fooled around in the kitchen, and turned in around two—Steve nowhere in sight. Some jobs were Captain-Only, which meant you’d have to make peace with being useless.

That’s generally not a task that goes over well. The amount of untamed energy Bucky exudes without Steve’s guidance is… close to being categorized as a natural disaster and trying to stay up with him is always a double-edged sword. Lots of fun, sure, but he requires less sleep than you do and can finagle you into getting piss drunk with a single smirk.

“Wish you’d been more responsible.” Bone-tired and Steve’s still bossy. His arm is heavy as it snakes over your tummy. “You know he needs direction.”

“Hey, I tried.”

“Issat right? That why your panties’re on the counter? Shirt in the sink, too. Come home close to four and still gotta clean up after the two of you.”

His raspy breath tickles, plump lips crushed just below your ear—enough to start a chain reaction of shudders.

“Go back to sleep,” you huff, embarrassed. It was only a few hours ago so your head’s still a bit fuzzy—vague memory of playful touches before hearing, hop up, baby, from Bucky. And you, tittering and zealous the whole way, kissing him like he’d never been kissed before.

YouTube blinking on the T.V., stuck on some ad because the streaming’s a snail’s pace from when Steve set up the internet and tried to pinch pennies at the same time. Bucky’s specially crafted “Wine, Dine, and Sixty-Nine” playlist refusing to load even half a song afterwards so neither of you could spare your neighbors from hearing all the noises.

Hopefully the laughter was loudest, and not the primal fucking, or the crashing when you slipped off the counter and knocked Bucky on his ass.

You giggle at that. Years and years together and some nights still feel brand new.

“Have fun without me?”

There’s no real jealousy in Steve’s voice, but there is greed behind the question. A single night away and he acts like he’s never been kissed either.

Your eyes start fluttering when his fingers curl around your hipbone. Je-sus. Hell. It’s too late—early—for this.

You grumble his name, asking him to save it for a couple more hours when your brain doesn’t feel pried free, but, Captain-Only mode activated and he’s not deterred. A bloodhound on a fresh trail.

The hand on your hip turns inward and you’re suddenly aware of him pressed against your body, that hot line of him, pulsing on your upper thigh. He tilts forward, one knee rubbing up your leg. Bucky stirs a little and makes another declaration about how he’s fit for the CEO position of Eating Your Ass, but nothing more after that.

“He do you good?” Steve wonders, apparently not giving a fuck about whether Bucky’s dead or alive down there and instead only worried about repositioning you, rolling you on your side, “That why you’re so happy to get me out of the house? So you two can fool around unchecked as much as you want?”

“Steve, you know damn well—"

His hand slips around the side of your neck, four thick fingers drumming over the ridges of your throat. “Watch your mouth,” he whispers, “before you get yourself into any more trouble.”

He gets mean without enough sleep. And no one would ever guess, but other than working over some poor punching bag that’ll never see the light of day after he gets his hands on it, Captain America likes to fuck it out. You and Buck have properly come out of a few sessions barely alive, feeling like two ends of a slinky that’s taken one too many tumbles down a flight of stairs.

You squirm as he palms your bottom with his free hand, kneading the bare flesh a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts can’t cover.

“Gotta be quiet,” he tells you gently, “Can’t wake him, can we.” Christ help you. What a time to play a game. You mumble under your breath, “Do I have a choice?”

A prod at your already sore entrance, and Steve says, annoyingly convinced, “I think you’ve already made your choice.”

He stills for a second when Bucky flops around on the mattress and then he starts pressing his mouth to your back, your shoulder, other hand holding you steady with expertise. It’s Steve’s favorite position when he wants to be in charge—you, writhing and turned away, usually leaned about 50 degrees and pawing at Bucky’s chest—this morning, feebly snatching sheets instead.

It doesn’t take any buildup. He’s achingly ready; you’re willingly wet. Clothes moved just enough out of the way and his two fingers slide upward, pushing barely to spread you before he quickly replaces it with something much thicker. It’s only been a few seconds. He’s too fast for you to get a word in edgewise, your brain still muddled, body cooperative.

“Huh,” Steve mumbles, slowly feeling his way into position, “A bit fucked loose, aren’t you?”

“Steve,” you hiss in reply, clenching up reflexively the same time mortification bursts across your scrunched- up face. “Don’t say that.”

��Hush, baby.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder.” And he’s evil incarnate, you swear. Satan himself packaged up in the neat body of a demigod. He rolls his hips slowly until the tops of his thighs are pressed against your ass, fingers holding so tight you think he’s going to spear right into bone. “Stay still or you’re gonna knee Buck in the cheek.”

You twist your head around, instead, shaking your chin free from his hand, hoping that once he sees your pitiful expression, he’ll find it in his heart to maybe not pound you into oblivion with bells on.

Of course, Steve’s not looking anywhere but down the line of your back and further to where he’s opening you up, bottom lip tucked into his teeth.

You constantly rib him about how he’s making up for all the years he spent with the two working eyes of a mole so now he’ll break his neck to watch. Bucky’s confirmed it multiple times to Steve’s chagrin, cackling at the way Steve goes purple defending himself. You love the stories they tell and retell; you try to spend most your time making up for all those years you weren’t there to find out.

Who isn’t in this relationship? Violently horny like teenagers, the three of you, spending every idle hour mishandling for each other like it’s the first time. Excitement primeval like animals in heat, apparently instinctual enough for one of you to do it in his sleep. Years and years and it still feels brand new.

The bed’s rocking surprisingly moderately for Steve’s usual pace, and it’s a bit heartwarming to know that he’s doing it because he really doesn’t want to wake Bucky, but he ramps up his game. He starts whispering again, meaner, hotter, the damn mouth on Steve Rogers continuing to give you hell this early morning.

He pinches your nipple hard, letting you gasp at the brief sting before he goes back up to your chin, your mouth, and then he puts the entire hand over it.

“Quiet. Not another fucking word out of you. Gotta teach you how to behave this morning, don’t I?” He’s working himself up, working you over, even pulling you back on him by the hips and then wiggling you up and down on him like he’s adjusting you on a saddle. Motherfucker.

Your toes curl, knees grinding, legs folding up to get simultaneously closer and away from him and it feels—it feels so excruciatingly good—the effortless glide of his cock, the burn of friction dragging itself out the more you wriggle. Whatever indelicate sounds falling out of your mouth are getting mashed back in, Steve ramming himself into your body, shaking your brain further loose.

He’s probably louder than he intends to be—you know how he gets when he’s close— bombs could be dropping two feet away and Steve Rogers would hear nothing but the roar of his own wanting, chasing it until he crashes into bits. You’re chasing too, both hands clamped around his wrist, arching your back to near breaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps out, “That’s it, that’s good, baby. Ugnn—back up on me, stay—right there.”

More uneven jerking, he releases your face and starts rubbing your clit, saying, you like it like this? Like me givin’ it to you good like this? And you’re shaking in his arms, the both of you tipping over the edge.

“I wasn’t serious,” Steve says later after a few moments, lips all soft and gentle on your neck, rather than fierce like before, “Bout you bein’—” you can feel him shrugging, “Y’know… fucked loose.” He whispers the last part like it’s a sin.

You snort, “You turning decent on me? After railing me to death?”

“You sound pretty lively to me.” He pokes your side, “I just… woke up and remembered how much I missed you last night.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got both of us here—shit!”

“Steeeeeve,” and the sound of it slaps both you back to reality. Sleep-smashed, more tipsy than any alcohol could make him, Bucky’s giggles break the steady pattern of muffled conversation. His vibranium hand pats around for a new destination, undeterred by the disruption of his previous mission.

You can’t believe it. He’s still asleep.

“Steeeevie,” Bucky mewls again, “Lemme— lemme suck your dick, sweetheart.”

What a menace. Your shoulders start quivering as you poorly hold it back, pfffftppblffpt’s kickstarting Steve into a tizzy right alongside you.

Bursting laughter finally wakes him up. Bucky yelps once, twice, flailing like a cat caught unawares and rolls himself right off the goddamn bed.

Two hundred pounds of newly conscious pervert wallops the hardwood floor and you’re sure the entire apartment complex—if they didn’t hear the ruckus last night—certainly heard it this morning.

#marvel #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #smut #marvel smut #reader insert #mcu

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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years

Text

when my time comes around (lay me gently in the cold, dark earth)

summary -> bucky wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man.

words -> 1.4k

warnings -> MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, dealing with said death, religious themes, google translate russian (roughly translates to love of my life) spoiler he doesn’t come back to life

notes -> sometimes… when you’re stressed, you write angst. after this piece it will most likely be awhile as i focus on much longer pieces i desperately want to finish. title from work song by hozier….love of my life…. hozier if ur out there im free everyday for u

— ➶ —

It’s like cold has washed over you permanently. Which, well, which is a sick sense of irony when you think too hard about it.

He was here one minute and gone the next. Bucky was here, laughing by your side and pulling you close to press kisses against your cheeks one day and the next you were falling to your knees with Sam’s arms trying to hold you up.

How could he just leave? Just die?

It’s like ghosts are phasing through you over and over and over again. Flashes of cold mixed with burns that leave your skin tingling.

How could Bucky leave you?

“Promise me.” You whisper into the night. Bucky’s hand is intertwined with yours. So tight you think you may lose circulation but you don’t care. “You and me. Forever.”

“I promise.” Bucky’s knuckle grazes your cheekbone. You lean into his touch. “Nothing is keeping me from coming home to you, my love.”

Did a promise count as kept if he came home in a casket?

His funeral is on a Friday in the middle of fall. Leaves are brown, orange, red and scattered across the grass you walk across. They crunch under each step, you grimace every-time. Sam’s hand is intertwined with yours, Sarah and her boys trailing behind you two.

You don’t listen to what anyone says. All you can think of is Bucky not being the one by your side.

“Bucky’s fiancée is going to say a few words.” You think it’s odd that you’ve gotten a priest. Bucky had been through so much, what person comes out the other side believing in a just God who put them through hell? “Please.” He steps aside, your train of thought cut short.

“What do you think happens when you die?” Bucky asks so quietly you almost don’t hear him. “Do you… Do you believe on heaven?”

You turn to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you?”

“I don’t know.” He won’t look at you. Bucky’s eyes are stuck to your ceiling fan as his fingers tap anxiously against his stomach. “Even if I did, I don’t think I’d be there.”

It’s a small crowd. You supposes that’s not surprising. Those who knew Bucky before Hydra were dead, Steve was gone. T’Challa is here though. Shuri too. Grim looks on their faces as they come to stand beside Sam while you step forward to make your speech.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. The speech you’ve written is held so tightly in between your fingers that it rips. You flinch at the sound a jarring reminder that Bucky had always been the one to unravel your tightly wound fists when the stress became too much. That he would no longer be able to do so.

Who would now?

Your eyes trail over the casket, an American flag draped over it, and you laugh. A hysterical fit of laughter that has people looking around uncomfortably.

“How does a man live through one of the worst wars the world has even seen just to…” You trail off. Tears are burning in your eyes and you can’t care enough to force them back. “Bucky Barnes was a good man. He wanted to right his wrongs in the world.”

You crumple the pre-written speech up entirely. “He wasn’t perfect. He… He never made his side of the bed. He always left his shoes lying around for me to trip on. Then laughed about it,” you smile grimly at the memory.

“Bucky!” You groan as you cradle your knee close to your chest. You can feel the throbbing pain of what no doubt will be a gigantic bruise across you knee cap.

He looks over his shoulder from the couch to stare at where you’ve fallen in the entry hallway. You glare as amusement dances in his eyes. “Yes, любовь всей моей жизни?”

“Don’t try and sweet talk me.” You can’t stop the smile as you climb to your feet. “It won’t work. How many times have I told you to put your shoes away? I didn’t build the shoe rack for nothing.”

Bucky laughs brightly. He walks over to you with a big smile that you know will kill your anger within minutes. “Brat.” Your murmur as his arms wrap around you.

You glance down at your feet. “He didn’t believe in separating colors so our laundry always had color bleeds.” You swallow thickly. “He broke promises. He… He was supposed to come home. He promised to come home.” Your voice is choked up and tears stream down your cheeks.

“But he was good.” You force out. “He once asked me if I believed in heaven or hell and I… I still don’t know the answer,” you glance at the priest, who just looks at you with pity, “but I do know Bucky was good to his core and whatever there is after death, he’s in a good place. I hope you all find comfort in that.”

As you step back into Sam’s space, soldiers step forward. It had been Sam’s idea to give him a veteran’s honor funeral.

You can’t say thank you when they hand over the folded flag because your legs give out underneath you. It’s like the flag being placed in your hands made it all official.

You crash to the ground, the leaves screech underneath your knees and the wet grass soaks through your black clothing but nothing matters. Not when Bucky was being lowered six feet into the ground and you were still waiting for it all to be a joke.

“Breathe.” Sam says softly as he kneels down beside you. It’s impossible though, all that comes out are choked breaths and sniffles as you clutch the flag close to your chest. “You’re okay. Breathe.” He tries again, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

“Marry me.” Bucky blurts. It’s three in the morning and you should both be asleep, but it was hard when each episode ended on a cliff hanger. You laugh, and Bucky shakes his head with a smile. “I’m serious, marry me.”

Your heart nearly stops. “W…What?”

“I was going to,” Bucky rummages through his nightstand drawer as he speaks, “do this later. At dinner or the park, but this… This feels right - ah hah! - So, marry me?”

He turns to you with a ring in hand. Your mouth falls open in shock while he grins smugly.

“любовь всей моей жизни.” Bucky murmurs when you don’t respond right away. There are small ticks of nervousness, the way he vibranium fingers clench and unclench or the small smile that overtakes his smug grin. “Marry me?”

Like you would ever say no.

You visit all the time. Your therapist says however you want to grieve is okay. Nobody can judge you, but you can sense visiting him everyday doesn’t help you move on. Could you ever really move on though? Bucky was a piece of you, a part that you would never get back.

“I miss you everyday.” You whisper. “Not a day goes by that I don’t wake up and for a brief second look for you then realize…” You fiddle with the ring still on your left hand. “I’m doing better though. I… I’m working again. Sam and I go out to dinner once a week. I’m trying. I know you would’ve wanted me to try, so that’s what I’m doing.”

“I love you.” You say softly. “любовь всей моей жизни.”

You stand hastily wiping the tears off of your cheek, the metal now glaringly absent from your hand.

All that’s left of Bucky Barnes is a headstone surrounded by flowers, a flag and a diamond ring.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Here Lies James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sergeant 107th

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎WWII

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Prisoner of War

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Beloved son, brother, friend and partner.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Not perfect, but good.

— ➶ —

notes -> this is bad i’m just bleh. i forgot how rough school and work was because i was lucky enough to not have to work last semester. have a safe week 💗

#james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #tw death

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for-fucks-sake-h · 4 years

Text

At My Weakest - two

rated: m, mature | word count: 4.2k | story page

“I wanna taste you again. Like a secret or a sin.”

- Matthew Perryman Jones

When Gianna stirred awake, she wasn’t surprised to find Harry laying beside her. What she was surprised about though was the absolute softness of his face.

The lines of his cheekbone and jaw were still sharp, but his skin was completely smooth. The usual indent between his brows was nonexistent, and his hair was a beautiful curly mess. She found herself reaching out to smooth some stray curls back behind his ear, her fingertips just barely brushing his soft skin.

He didn’t disappoint once he got her in his bed. Turns out his smug, cocky demeanor could be backed up, and backed up well. He wasn’t short on foreplay, he didn’t rush into it. If anything, he drew out the string of anticipation so ridiculously thin it snapped; until they were all hands and mouths and moans and pleasure.

It was good. It was fun. It was a much needed distraction.

But it looked different in the daylight.

What was passionate gasps and needy hands in the dimmed moonlight, was just a sloppy rebound fuck with a friend in the early morning daylight.

Gianna was careful to slip out of bed, nakedly grabbing her borrowed sweater from the floor before tiptoeing to his bathroom. And when she returned, she was met with green eyes and tousled hair.

“Thought you left.” His voice was even deeper than usual, the early morning rasp doing nothing to quell Gianna’s increasingly warming skin. “Didn’t think you were a hit and run kinda person.”

Gianna breathed a soft laugh as she made her way over to him in just her sweater.

“No, but I should probably get my ass on the couch before your sister wakes up.”

“Y’know she sleeps like the dead.” He watched her as he fiddled with the corner of his duvet, eyes tracing the curve of her hip where the sweater ended against her caramel skin. “Could give you one more before you go.”

The lightness of his eyes looked iridescent in the morning light, especially in comparison to the blown out brown of Gianna’s staring back at him.

He sat up just then, the dark emerald sheet slipping down his chest to rest casually across his bare hips. He was a sight with his unruly hair falling over his collar bones and his toned chest and stomach on full display.

“In fact,” he started as he scooted down the bed until he was right in front of her, his feet meeting the ground as he pulled her closer between his thighs, “was thinking we could do this whenever you want.”

Gianna’s hands found his bare shoulders, his skin still incredibly warm from sleep and as soft as it looked.

“Is this my sweater?” Harry asked suddenly as he looked down to where he played with the knitted fabric at her hips, his hands slowly splaying out on Gianna’s bare thighs.

“Gemma gave it to me last night,” she responded softly.

“Hm. Anyway… could be a perfect fit for both of us,” Harry murmured, his head tilted up towards Gianna’s, his lips inches from hers. The innuendo was embedded in his tone and the look on his face, and even more blatantly obvious when the most subtle indent of a dimple teased its way onto his cheek.

It would be too easy for Gianna to take him up on the offer, crawl back into bed with him and let him bring her over the edge as many times as he wanted; as many times as she wanted. But for as sexy and generous as he’d been, she knew it wasn’t the best idea and something she shouldn’t get used to.

Gianna sighed with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder blade. “H…”

“G,” Harry rebutted in a playful tone.

“Probably not a good idea.”

“I beg to differ. Think it’s a great idea. My best idea yet.”

“Last night was fun,” Gianna offered gently. “I just don’t think we should make a habit out of it. I have a lot going on and I don’t want to drag you—”

“—Hey, say no more.”

If Harry’s ego was bruised from the rejection, he didn’t show it.

Instead, he pushed himself up from the bed as she took a step back, the sheet knowingly falling away from his body as he stood before her at his full height. They were nearly chest to chest, and it took everything inside Gianna to ignore the way her nipples pebbled beneath the soft fabric of her sweater.

“The offer’s available if you ever want it.” His lips curled around every word, only making his offer even more overwhelmingly enticing.

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, his chest brushed against her arm as he carelessly moved around her to head to the bathroom, completely naked, every inch of his body on display.

If he felt Gianna’s eyes on him, he didn’t show it.

A fresh steam of her reworn silk skirt and sheer button down blouse later, and the party was in full swing, guests arriving one after another to her parents home.

Gianna was lucky to have arrived when she did, the distraction of guests doing her every favor to hold off the inevitable questions from her family. A quick comment that Steve was held up at work was as far into it as she could get before her mother was whisked away by one thing or another. Gianna wasn’t so worried about the lie as she was her delivery of said lie.

The end of her relationship was the last thing she felt like discussing at her fathers 50th birthday celebration.

The one thing she didn’t anticipate was the possibility of Steve showing up.

She saw him as soon as he walked through the front door, his polo shirt and perfectly styled hair immediately catching her eye. His eyes scanned the room in search of her, and it felt like her heart could literally drop out of her ass.

Gianna excused herself from her fathers colleagues before making her way toward him, her blood boiling as her heart pounded in her chest.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered harshly as she pulled him aside, eyes ablaze as she looked at him.

“You haven’t been answering your phone.” His response was so casual for someone who blew up their life together without a second thought.

“Yeah you lost that privilege yesterday, Steve.”

“Gianna, please. Let’s just talk about this.”

“You need to leave.”

“Gianna—”

“Y’alright?” Gianna turned to look up at the sound of the intruder's voice, her eyes meeting Harry’s expressionless face immediately.

Gianna was quick to reel in her emotions as well, instead smiling and greeting Harry and Gemma and their parents.

“Hi guys! Yeah, yeah, all good. Steve was just leaving,” Gianna continued to smile despite the confused look on Harry and Gemma’s parents faces. “He’s gotta work.”

Steve huffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Let’s go find Lisa!” Gemma suggested to her parents with a gentle guide on both of their backs.

“Oh, she’s in the kitchen.” Gianna pointed in the direction of her mother and released a sigh when they headed that way.

Gianna turned back to Steve the moment they were out of earshot. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Harry was quick to interject. “Think she told you to go.”

Gianna watched the anger wash over Steve’s face as he turned to Harry.

“Shouldn’t take me telling you for you to listen,” Harry added with a disapproving shake of his head.

That confidence Harry exuded? Yeah, it came in handy in a wide array of situations.

“Don’t make me kick you out of here,” Gianna told Steve. “I don’t want to cause a scene and embarrass my mum but I will if I have to.”

Harry took the most subtle step closer. He really only sort of shifted his weight towards Gianna more, barely enough to even notice, but judging by Steve’s disgruntled face, he noticed.

Gianna noticed too.

“We’re going to talk about this later.” Just the sound of Steve’s voice made Gianna’s heart plummet. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was.

She watched him turn around with an exasperated huff, a withheld breath escaping her when he disappeared through the front door.

“Y’okay?”

Gianna momentarily forgot Harry was still standing beside her. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Gonna go hide for a bit and collect myself.”

She didn’t wait for his response before she disappeared upstairs with tears welling in her eyes.

Who did Steve think he was? Just showing up at her parents home as if nothing happened? Something did happen. A lot of shit happened. Many words were exchanged and the way Gianna left their home and didn’t look back said even more then her frustrated, broken words.

Gianna didn’t know how long she hid in her childhood bathroom, but apparently it was long enough for someone to come looking for her when she heard the softest tap on the door.

She wasn’t crying, that was a plus. So she braced herself for her mother to be undoubtedly on the other side of the door, but opened it slowly to find none other than Harry leaned up against the doorframe, his face closer than she would have expected.

His chin was pointed down towards his chest, leaving him to look up at her through his lashes with his eyebrows raised high and the lines across his forehead even more prominent.

“Just checking on you. Y’don’t have to come out yet if you don’t wanna.”

Gianna leaned against the wall so that she was standing parallel to him, her body lining up perfectly with his, both of their arms crossed over their chests, the door to the bathroom propped open just enough for them to see each other.

“Is my mum looking for me?”

He pursed his lips with regret. “I did hear her say your name a little bit ago.”

Gianna released a deep sigh as she let her eyes fall closed. “I can’t believe he just showed up here.”

“Do you know what he wanted?”

Gianna scoffed. “No clue, probably to torture me some more. As if yesterday wasn’t enough.”

“He’s got some nerve,” Harry shook his head in disbelief.

Gianna exhaled again. “I don’t even wanna be here and now I gotta go put a show on for everyone and pretend like everything’s fine.”

Harry gave her a small, understanding smile. “Want me to go fall down the stairs as a distraction?”

The tiniest shiver rolled down his spine when she smiled with a shake of her head.

“I’ll just dive head first. They’ll be so distracted with my broken collar bone that you can sneak out the back,” he added with a completely straight face, intently fighting the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Gianna laughed softly as she pushed her elbow against his. “What if you mess up your face? I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Never mind scratch that idea,” Harry replied quickly, the smile forming across his face regardless of his efforts.

Gianna’s face softened after a moment, and Harry couldn’t be positive, but he was pretty sure her body moved a half an inch closer to his.

“Thanks for stepping in with him,” she said sincerely, her big brown eyes steady on his.

Harry swallowed discreetly, licking his lips in a force of habit. “Anytime,” he murmured, his eyes flicking across her face.

“You didn’t have to,” Gianna replied mindlessly, her eyes falling across his face.

“Know I didn’t.” Harry’s voice was soft, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt like his skin was on fire.

She was so close. Her perfume invaded his senses the same way it did on the roof, it had seeped into his sheets and lingered on his skin that morning. It was all he could focus on, subconsciously pulling him closer to her.

Although, maybe not totally subconscious at all. He knew he wanted her. He knew that after one night with her, that he wanted her again, as many times as she’d give herself to him.

He could tell she wanted to kiss him. Fuck, he was willing her to just do it. It was like every fiber of his being was screaming for her to just connect their mouths, get lost in each other again. But he could tell she was having some sort of internal battle that held her back.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly, eyes peering into hers.

She blinked back at him, the soft furrow of her brows somehow making her more attractive. He watched her mouth open and close, trying to find the words.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

He could feel her breath just barely brushing his lips as his eyes pulled down to the curve of her Cupid’s bow first, then the curve of her chest, before traveling the same path back again, ready to dive back into the deep brown of her eyes.

They were cast down, the curl of her lashes on display instead, and at first Harry assumed in shame or disinterest. But they burned against his own mouth, as she took account of every curve of his lips.

“G...” he tried once more, hoping that the movement of his lips spurred her on.

She was about to say something, Harry could see it on every inch of her face, but then there were footsteps entering the room and the sound of her name being called that Gianna snapped back, pulling away from him so quickly that it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Oh there you are,” Gemma said, relieved. “Your mum's going to go searching for you any minute, wanted to find you first.”

“Yeah, same,” Harry nodded as he tried to casually run a hand through the top of his hair and gently tuck a stray piece behind his ear. Only it didn’t feel casual at all, the only thing he felt was fidgety. “I’ll go distract her,” he added as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and turned to leave.

The truth was, he felt like he couldn’t breath and he wasn’t even quite sure why. Gianna was hard to read, she was really good at bottling things up which left him completely unsure where he stood. She told him she wasn’t interested, and he understood why. Things could get complicated and that was the last thing she needed in her life at the moment. But then she looked at him like that, and her eyes - reluctant but burning into his skin - said something completely different.

He wasn’t going to push her, though. She needed a friend and that was what he was going to be to her. So he went to Lisa’s side and talked her ear off about a recent show he had watched on Discovery, and watched with a small smirk as Gianna’s mum pretended to be interested.

Luckily, the rest of the party went on as normal. And even more so, Gianna and Harry didn’t have a moment alone together until the goodbyes. There was the slightest bit of hesitancy when they went to leave a kiss on each other's cheeks, something they and their families always did when parting ways.

It was a blip of a moment really, but it was enough to have chills running across Gianna’s skin just from the barely there scruff of Harry’s cheek brushing hers. He gave a small, but reassuring smile when he pulled away, a soft squeeze of her arm just before he followed Gemma out the door.

It was insane, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him the rest of the night. While she helped her parents clean up, while they talked her ear off about their upcoming travel plans, while she finally peeled herself away from them at nearly midnight, while she drove back to Gemma and Harry’s place, while she tiptoed inside and locked up behind her.

“Hey,” Gemma called from where she was curled up on the couch in front of the tv. “Rest of the night go okay?”

“Oh, yeah. The usual really.” Gianna sighed as she slipped her studded heels off, her limbs feeling heavy from the long day.

“I’ll be out of your bedroom in a mo, this is almost over,” Gemma said half heartedly, eyes still trained on the tv.

Gianna didn’t bother with a response, but instead wandered down the hallway to Gemma’s room to steal some clothes. She couldn’t help but glance at Harry’s bedroom door, the light peeking through the bottom like a temptation.

She wondered what he was doing in there as she changed, if he heard her come in, if he could sense her in the proximity somehow. Her fingertips prickled with curiosity and her mind tiptoed along the ledge of “what if” and “maybe” and “why not”.

He offered. All she had to do was accept.

When she stepped out of Gemma’s room with an oversized white tee shirt and minty fresh teeth, she immediately noticed that Harry’s light was no longer illuminating the edges of his door, the room seemingly pitch black.

Maybe that was a sign from the universe or something. Maybe, she thought, she should just quit while she’s ahead.

Her makeshift bed was all ready for her in the living room, Gemma having neatly arranged blankets and pillows on the couch where she was previously sitting. That was one thing about both of the Style’s siblings, they never made you feel unwelcome.

“Alright love, let me know if you need anything,” Gemma spoke as she placed her empty tea cup in the sink.

“Thanks, Gems. Seriously. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Gemma smiled warmly as she walked over, wrapping Gianna in a quick hug before heading for the hallway.

“Oh,” she turned around quickly, “Harry spoke to Steve after we left.”

Gianna’s heart stopped, bracing herself for whatever transpired between them. “How bad was it?”

“Eh,” Gemma shrugged, chuckling lightly as she continued. “Harry yelled a lot, but he’ll be gone for a few hours tomorrow morning so you can go get your stuff. We’ll go with you to help.”

Gianna released a heavy sigh, overwhelmed with her friend's generosity. “You guys don’t have to do that.”

“Too bad because we are,” Gemma quickly replied. “Harry told Steve he was coming with you anyway, just in case he decides to try anything like what went on today. Plus, the more hands means the faster you can get out of there.”

Gianna gave her a pouty smile.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gemma laughed. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would,” she agreed.

“Besides, Harry’s the one that made it happen. He just told me the plan before he went to bed.” Gemma smoothed down the baby hairs sticking up at the front of Gianna’s hairline, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. “I love you, get some sleep.”

Gianna didn’t know what she did to deserve a friend like Gemma, but she was grateful every single day for whatever cosmic blip happened in the universe to force them together.

“Love you,” Gianna murmured as she watched Gemma head for her room, finding herself standing completely still as she watched her bedroom door close softly at the end of the hall.

And then she was left in silence with nothing but her thoughts. Which if anyone could hear inside her brain, they’d know they were anything but silent.

She went to plop down on the couch, letting out a long, deep sigh as she sunk into the cushions.

Harry didn’t need to put his neck out like that, but he did. His exact reasoning, Gianna wasn’t sure. But he appeared beside her at that party like it was second nature. He took it upon himself to find a way for her to safely get her things from her former home, and she was grateful. He was a good friend. She knew that already, but it was even more prominent now.

She thought starting something with Harry would be harder on her than not. She thought she didn’t need the added stress. But he never showed any indication that he would make anything stressful for her. If anything, the only thing he showed was the opposite.

A distraction, an escape, a good time.

That was all she needed right now. And in a way, that was exactly what Harry was offering.

So she pulled herself up from the couch with purpose, and padded down the hall to the door on the right with her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her fingers brushed along the grain of wood, a last chance effort to back away with none the wiser.

But she didn’t want to. As ridiculous as it seemed, Harry made her feel something that she desperately needed at the moment.

So she jumped.

It was the softest tap, her knuckle meeting the wood so lightly she was positive he wouldn’t even hear it. Her breath was shaky as she did it again, this time the tiniest bit harder, more sure.

There was no sign of movement behind the door. She waited with baited breath, tapping her knuckles a third time, squeezing her eyes closed, begging for Gemma not to hear.

But nothing. No sound, no movement, no Harry.

Maybe he had snuck out at some point, while she was changing perhaps. Or maybe he had decided she was right after all, that this - she - was too complicated for him right now.

She drew one last small pattern on the door, her temple pressed against the framing before she dropped her hand and pulled away.

And then in a moment of pure heart stopping relief, the door swung open and a large hand wrapped around her forearm, tugging her inside the dark room so quickly she felt lightheaded.

Her back was pressed up against the wall beside the door as Harry eased it closed quietly. Gianna caught her breath, her chest rising and falling sharply as she took him in. He was in nothing but boxer briefs sitting low on his hips, his hair pulled up in a bun, his skin reflecting against the light of the muted tv in the corner of his room. His bed was unmade, the spot he was previously occupying obvious, what with blankets thrown to the one corner and pillows propped up against the center of the headboard.

Harry was looking at her expectantly when she turned her face back to him, but he didn’t say anything, eyes simply scanning the features of Gianna’s face.

“How’d you know it was me?” Gianna murmured softly.

“I didn’t.” His tone was neutral, but his eyes were blazing, even in the darkness.

She couldn’t pull her eyes from him, and all she could think about was taking the half a step needed to be pressed against his soft skin.

“Hoped it was,” Harry added after a beat of silence, his eyes falling to her mouth. “Didn’t know, but hoped.”

The words barely made their way from his lips before Gianna was taking the small step to connect their mouths. And it was as if Harry was waiting for it, because his hand immediately cupped her jaw as he took his own step, her back pressing against the wall once more.

His lips were warm, and they tasted familiar this time. That thought surprised Gianna somehow - this wasn’t the first time, and although it was new, it was comforting in a way she wouldn’t be able to explain if she tried.

He kissed her with his entire body, every inch of him pressed tightly against her, pinning her to the wall. His tongue teased her bottom lip, and without second thought, she met him with her own, sparks shooting across her skin in the form of goosebumps and anticipation.

The soft groan that escaped his throat as he pulled her even closer lit her on fire, his fingers digging harder into the soft curves of her hips.

“Fuck, I want you,” Harry sighed breathlessly, his lips trailing across Gianna’s jaw and down her neck.

She scratched her nails down his back, his body only pressing against hers more in response. “Want you too,” she whispered, like it was a confession, as if her actions hadn’t already exposed her.

His lips burned against her throat, sucking deliberate kisses to her sensitive skin as his hands smoothed up and down her sides, gripping here, pulling there. She could feel him, hard and needy against her pelvis, and it made her stomach twist with desire.

“This has to stay between us,” Gianna spoke gently up to the ceiling. “No one can know.”

“Good,” Harry stamped a kiss to her jaw, pulling her face to his by the back of her neck, his lips brushing hers with his words. “Can be our secret.”

And it was, he made sure of it. No one would know what went on between them under the darkness of the night, hidden behind the walls of his room, disguised behind their eyes in the daylight.

It would just be theirs, whatever it was, for as long as Harry could help it.

But that’s the thing about secrets… they always find a way out.

a/n: *nervous laughter* Heyyy guysss lol so! There we have it! It’s happening, it’s fine, everything’s fine. The biggest thanks to the best babes @andwhenshesays @oh-honey-styles @harrytheehottie @real-work-of-art @haute-romance-quotidienne @all-things-fic for the comments and laughs and support and encouragement - you guys are the real ones. I hope everyone enjoyed this one! Much more to come *more nervous laughter* lol thank you for reading! I hope you’ve had a great friday! xxx

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#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #amw

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tenndderr · 3 years

Note

Hello it is I again

So I've been getting a lot of nightmares recently and been scared to go back to sleep :(

Do you think you could write HC's for George comforting the reader after they had a nightmare?

(George is my comfort streamer after all)

hello again! and of course i can!

i hope that you've been able to get some more rest :')

TW; nightmares, curse words

my full masterlist

have a request? let me know <3

george nightmare comfort hcs

- the first night it happens george is sitting up beside you instantly

- not only because he’s a light sleeper but you jerking up forward with a small gasp made something in him wake tf up

- he looks just as scared as you do as he watches you try to level your breathing and take in your surroundings

- but i have a feeling that he has struggled with nightmares every now and then, so he is quick to pull you into his chest so you don't have to focus on anything but him

- back rubs all night

- he would never pressure you into talking about them until you were ready

- he tries to hide how worried he is when he gently brings it up the next morning though

- he's fiddling with his thumbs and bouncing one knee because the last thing he wants to do is trigger whatever caused your previous nightmare

- but if they start happening more often, he knows how to comfort you better and what will calm you down

- but even then, he just wants you to be able to sleep again

- will defiantly confide into dream or sapnap on what helps them fall asleep

- if they ask why, he just ignores them and starts googling things

- he read somewhere that soft light, candles, and lavender can help, so he buys all of those things that day

- acts super excited all day, waiting for you to start yawning or talking about how you're feeling sleepy before grabbing your hand and leading you to your shared room!!!!

- he has a candle on his side of the bed that is illuminating a soft glow in the room

- along with a book he wanted to read to you as he tucks you in bed and lets you lay on his chest

- probably bought lavender essential oils and had to watch youtube videos on how to use them

"baby, what are you doing?"

"be still bun, i have to apply this to your temples."

- will sit down and talk to you about doing yoga together because dream taught him exercises that he does to relax

- tried to give you a massage one night but you had to ask him to stop through fits of laughter because baby you're a gamer for a reason

- can you imagine when he streams people always tease him about his sleep schedule and how he is always out of the loop with things

- DREAM SMP COUGH COUGH

- and everyone assumes it's because he has adapted to dream's sleep schedule

- when in reality, the moment he sees your eyes get droopy or hears a soft yawn escape your lips, he is taking a nap with you

- so now his sleep schedule is just a mess because he tries to sleep with you whenever your body lets you

- he may not push with nightmares, but i feel like he wouldn't leave room for arguing when you tried to argue or fight him about sleeping

- i have this theory that because he went through phases where he had nightmares, he doesn't want you to go through what he did and never sleep

- he might feel a little off when it comes to comforting people or really anything with feelings

- but with you, he is constantly reassuring that he doesn't mind staying up with you, as long as it takes

- if you really can't go back to sleep, he will run a bath with you and fill it with lavender soap because he bought so much lavender shit im

- will cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears with his thumb gently, eyes looking down at you with such adoration and yet concern because gosh he loves you so much and wishes he could do more than just hold you closer

- OKAY THIS MIGHT BE TOO SOFT BUT

- george will never sing in front of anyone but you, so when he starts softly humming or gently singing a song to calm you down it makes you melt because AGH WHAT

- he will be so blushy and you will have to pretend to not notice because you know he just wants to make you feel so so safe

"i like that song."

"yeah? i can sing it again if you want?"

- i just really feel like he would be so patient with you when it comes to these types of things and wouldn't care about anything but taking care of you :')

- sleepy george with eyes all puffy and red from rubbing them tiredly while giggling at every little thing you say before splashing bubbles at you

- he is still a simp

#georgenotfound x you #georgenotfound #george headcanons #georgenotfound fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt headcanons #mcyt #dream #dreamwastaken #sapnap #dream smp imagine #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp hc #dsmp hc #george hc #georgenotfound headcanons

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 3 years

Text

Settling In - Public Figures: The Todoroki Name

Inspired by: @i-cant-sing

Unlike the other mornings during the past three weeks, Rei doesn’t wake you up to lead you into another part of the house to monitor you in. Today, she gets you up and ready for school. Rei eventually conceded, letting you go to the Somnei Private Academy.

You don’t know how you feel about this new school. It isn’t the first time you’ve had to transfer schools, but it’s certainly the first time you’ve gone to an elite private school. The black, houndstooth skirt and white blazer combination is stiff, but it’ll become more comfortable as time passes. That’s at least what you hope will happen—with this outfit and living with the Todorokis in general. This place is too nice, this home is too large. They’re so much older and different from you, completely foreign to how you used to live.

It’s different, but you’ll manage. Besides, it’s not a bad different, just… different.

Rei set out the red blazer, white socks, and black Mary Janes in the living room. After she made you breakfast (which you ate all of, on Rei’s insistence), she helped you into the rest of your uniform. You haven’t had someone do this since you were just starting primary school, but Rei seemed so happy doing this. You wouldn’t want to ruin this for her, would you?

She passes you your bag and then a cellphone. It’s a coral color with a clear case. Not what you would’ve chosen, but cute nonetheless.

Rei puts her cold hand on her shoulder, “Y/N, listen to me. This phone is for emergencies, alright. If you need anything, anything at all, call or text one of us, alright? We’re here for you, alright. And we want you to be safe at school. So if we text to check in on you, text back quickly, alright. We don’t want to worry about you.”

“Okay.” You reply, “Can we get going or…”

“No!” She exclaims, digging through the navy blue purse on her side, “I need pictures! I never want to forget this!”

“Oh, alright.” You stand there, smiling. Rei’s camera light flashes almost continuously for half a minute. You don’t know how many photos she took, but you’re definitely seeing flashes of light afterwards.

She wraps her arm into the crook of your own, “Now we can head out!”

With the camera’s flash affecting your vision, Rei’s able to guide you out. She keeps you two locked together until you make it to the car. A driver silently takes you to your school, which leads Rei to fill the space.

“You don’t need to be nervous, you know.” Rei obsessively fixes your hair, even though she did it this morning.

You don’t stop her, but you do correct her, “I’m not nervous, really. I’m just—”

“You don’t have to lie to me Y/N.” Rei cuts you off, “It’s perfectly fine if you’re nervous. It’s natural when you’re leaving somewhere so safe and comforting to such a scary and unknown place.”

“I— alright.” You bite your tongue. No school is inherently as scary as moving into a new place like the Todoroki residence. But you wouldn’t tell her that. You’re just going to smile and nod and keep her happy and content, like a good daughter should.

===

The driver pulls into the drop off lane. The all white, shining academy is surrounded by a massive gate, which you had to wait to go through. Rei just sat there and chattering on.

Kids walked across the campus and you can look at them outside the bulletproof glass of the limousine. You want to look more, but Rei gathers your attention.

“Y/N, baby,” She looks you in the eye and fixes a piece of your hair, “are you going to be fine?”

“Yeah, Rei.” You nod, “I’ll be fine.”

“Make sure you text us back if we check in on you.”

“...I will.” You make a promise you know will be difficult to keep. If this school was like most of your other schools, they'll take away your personal technology if they catch you on it. You doubt they would be happy if on your first day gone, you got your phone taken away.

“If you need any one of us, we are literally a text away.”

“Alright…”

“Love you, Y/N.” She replies, “Wait! I took the liberty of printing off your schedule!”

You ignore the ‘love you’ in order to grab the piece of paper she had folded in her purse. She waves at you through the window and you wave back. You eventually have to leave her. She wants to watch you enter—making sure you’re safe every step of the way.

===

Going inside of the building was easy. This would be a breath of fresh air. It was your first time leaving the Todoroki Residence since the shopping trip Rei took you on. Three weeks of an isolating spring vacation now leads to you returning in time for your final year of junior high.

You head to the front desk. The front desk lady always knows where everything is. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to move around. “Excuse me,” you ask, “can you print out my class schedule and point me in the direction of my new class?”

“A new student, huh?” Her accent isn't Japanese. She’s not from around here. It’s sophisticated, like one of those high society ladies you’d see on television. You hear it more when she continues speaking, “give me your first and last name and I’ll call in the Class Head for whichever class you have and they’ll be your new guide.”

“Y/L/N, Y/F/N.” You fiddle with the strap of your bag. She types it into the system and then places a phone call. A name you wouldn’t recognize is mentioned, but you don’t catch anything else. She then turns to you to hand you a slightly warm piece of paper, “Do you mean Todoroki Y/F/N?”

Todoroki? You didn’t think they’d sign you up with their surname, but nevertheless, you answer, “Yeah, sure. Sorry about that.”

“No problem. So your teacher is Ito-san and your Class Head will be here any minute to escort you to your new classroom.”

“Thanks.” You go to wait by the office doors. They separate the front desk from the rest of the school and thus give you a chance to breathe. You probably won’t be here long and then you can go to a school that fits you better. Private school—you silently laugh at the idea. You never thought you’d get here.

The kid is in a similar uniform, except he’s in a pair of well fitting pants. He introduces himself and you sigh—at least this’ll only be temporary.

===

You didn’t expect much from this school and in all honesty, you’re happy that the day’s over. The teacher’s alright and the kids are all in their little cliques, but it’s not anything you didn’t experience at your other schools.

Though, one thing sticks out at you. Everybody called you Todoroki. It was a surprise. Even if you live with them, you aren’t a Todoroki. You’re just Y/N.

The same car that Rei dropped you off in picks you up. Rei opens the door and steps out. She’s the only Todoroki there. You don’t know how you feel about that.

She frets over you, as if she didn’t text you thrice today to see how you were doing. Though, you try to push down any amount of unease—your mother did the same thing, some time ago.

You step into the vehicle and Rei sits beside you. She’s the first to speak, “So… how was school?”

“It was alright. Just like any other school.”

“That’s good!” Rei exclaims, “Did you make any new friends? Was the teacher nice? How was lunch? I can start packing your lunch if it isn't good. Just say the word and I’ll do it!”

“Lunch was good. So was everything else…” You broach the subject of your name, “Hey, uh Rei? Why did you all sign me up under the Todoroki name?”

“You’re one of us now, silly.” She laughs, “Didn’t want you thinking we’d give you up whenever you got difficult. You’re a part of the family.”

“Oh, alright.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Rei replies, “You can do your homework before dinner and afterwards we can watch a movie, your pick. Doesn’t that sound nice.”

“Uh… yeah.” You tell her, “Yeah it does.”

#yandere platonic #mha platonic yanderes #yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #platonic yandere rei

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gallysonegoodlung · 3 years

Text

He’s Home- Newt

a/n- i don’t get how this works, so please bare with, this is so confusing to me lmao. also, this is the first fic i ever wrote so uh, don’t come for me if it’s not the best. enjoy, i guess?

Word Count- 1396

You awoke to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. It relaxed you. You'd always found peace in those little things. You loved the stars, the way they sparkled on their own. But you couldn't sparkle, not without him.

You loved the beach, watching the light dance along the waves, twinkling as it went by. But you couldn't twinkle, not without him.

You both used to find happiness in those things together. You missed the days when you couldn't sleep, so you found yourself a spot on the grass where the stars shone the brightest. Newt would always find you there sooner or later, and you'd both stare upwards, watching.

You missed him.

The wooden bed creaked as you forced yourself off it, and made your way to your friends. Sand squished between your toes, flicking up behind you as you walked. He would have loved that.

You soon found your friends and sat down on the spare log. "Good morning" came from Minho.

You replied with a slightly forced smile, you didn't really feel like talking.

“No breakfast for you then?" asked Gally, as he looked at you with worry.

"Not really feeling hungry", you weren't lying, you hardly ate these days, you felt empty.

Thomas came and sat next to you "Drink this", he handed you a cup of water, which had a slight tinge of yellow in it.

"Thanks", you said before taking a gulp.

He put his arm around you and pulled you close to him, "I know this is hard for you," he started, " it's hard for all of us, but you've got to take care of yourself." He finished, speaking to you as a big brother would to his little sister.

You gave a small nod, and stared at the sand blowing at your feet. "How've you been sleeping?" he pushed.

"Not well, keep waking up."

Thomas started talking again, "Well maybe i can-".

You abruptly cut him off with "I'm hungry." With that you walked off to get yourself some breakfast.

You knew they were only trying to look at for you, but you knew it wasn't going to help. To be honest, you didn't really want to think about Newt, or all the things you were struggling with right now. So you just removed yourself from the situation.

Nothing was easy without newt.

He used to be the one to wake you up and go get breakfast with you every morning. He used to hold you when you couldn't sleep, and tell you stories. He used to watch the stars with you or go swim in the lake. He used to whisper jokes about the other glades in your ears, in front of them, sending you both into fits of giggles whilst, the glader would just stare at you in confusion.

Newt was your happiness, and without him, you didn't know where you were going to get it from.

Slowly you made your way to get food, dragging your feet behind you. You stared at the floor, fiddling with the glass in your hands, trying desperately not to think of Newt, but failing miserably. You looked up, to check your path was clear, and looked back down at the glass once more.

But as you looked down something caught your eye. You did a double take, and looked directly in front of you. You saw it again. It took your brain a second to process what you were looking at. But then you realised.

You froze.

The glass cup you'd previously been holding, slipped out of your grip, and smashed loudly as it collided with a rock by your feet.

You were still frozen.

Gally, Minho and Thomas all ran up to you. "Are you....okay?" Gally asked between breaths, he was the least fit one out of them all.

You heard the question but your brain couldn't process it. Your eyes were still locked on the thing in front of you.

You heard Thomas speak up next, "Shucking hell, what's happening to her?”.

You finally found your words, and squeezed out a single word, "Look."

All the boys looked to the place your eyes were fixed on. Their draws dropped, as a grin formed on your face.

Newt.

You sprinted. Faster than you'd ever run before. Faster than you ever thought you could run. Faster than if you were being chased by grievers. Faster than if you were running away from cranks. But the difference was, this time, you were running towards him.

When you finally reached him, you flung yourself into his outstretched arms. The force of your jump had caused him to lose him balance, and fall over backwards. The sand flew in the air, as you both flopped on top of it.

You buried your head in his neck, tears drenching his tshirt. You smiled. For the first time since you'd lost him, you'd smiled. You could feel the warm of his body, and the touch of his skin.

"Hey, I’ve missed you." His british accent rang through your ears, making you smile even more.

You were both still lying on the floor by the time the boys reached you.

You and Newt both sat up, making sure to keep your arms wrapped around each other tightly. The boys all latched on to you and Newt, joining in the long awaited hug.

When you all finally pulled away, you looked into his chestnut eyes. Oh how much you missed them. "Newt...?"

You spoke it as a half question, and half statement. Your arms still holding the side of his. It was so surreal you couldn't tell if it was real or not, but if it wasn't then who was this in your arms now.

He smiled at you, with his smile, that smile. The smile that you loved so much. As he pulled you closer to him. Your lips collided. You missed this, missed him, missed his touch. It felt as if you'd been separately for years, making the kiss that even more amazing.

When you pulled apart you hugged him again, this time with your head on his chest. He held your head in one hand, and your back in his other, pulling you closer, whilst placing his head carefully on top of yours.

Thomas spoke up, "But how? I...It doesn't make sense." Confusion filling his face.

Honestly you couldn't care less about how or why he was here. The only thing that mattered right now, was that he was here.

"To be bloody honest I don't know how myself. I just woke surrounded by people, cured, and they led me back to you." He finished pointing his fingers at them.

"Do you know who these people are?" Gally questioned. His face filled with a type of happiness you didn't think you've ever seen on him before.

"Not a bloody clue. But they did me well. Maybe they were a similar lot to the ones that found you." Newt answered.

"Well either way we're happy to have you back shuckface." Minho finished with a laugh.

"I'm happy to be back." Newt smiled at us all, before whispering into my ear, "We've got a lot to catch up on missy."

"You must be hungry Newt, let's go get you some food." Thomas called before turning away with the guys.

"I'll meet you there." Newt called back before pulling out of the hug and locking eyes with you.

He moved his hand up to your cheek, and wiped away the most recent tear that had escaped your eyes.

"You don't know how much I've missed you, you don't know how hard it was to lose you." You spoke as more tears followed.

"I'm sorry, you won't ever lose me again, I'll make sure if it."

In response, you lifted up your pinkie, "Promise?" "Promise", connecting his finger with yours.

"Come on, let's go find those shanks." Newt said.

You both picked yourself up, sand falling of your clothes as you stood. He intertwined his hand with yours, as you walked off together

You couldn't help smiling to yourself the whole day, he was back, your happiness was back. Two words wouldn't leave your mind all day.

He's Home.

#wattpad #fanfic #newt x reader #newt the maze runner #the maze runner #maze runner #newt imagine #newt imagines #tmr fanfic #the maze runner newt #tmr newt #tmr imagine #tmr newt imagines #tmr newt x reader #tbs #tmr fluff #newt maze runner #maze runner newt #newt fluff

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