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#blossoms and solitude
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Mainte fleur épanche à regret. Son parfum doux comme un secret dans les solitudes profondes.
- Charles Baudelaire
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Cut While Shaving, Charles Bukowski // Comfort in Your Strangeness, Cynthia Alexander // One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez // Coraline, Neil Gaiman // The River Merchant's Wife: A Letter, Ezra Pound // Allison Road, Gin Blossoms // A bath when you're born, Kobayashi Issa // Boot Theory, Richard Siken // And the days are not full enough, Ezra Pound
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rebfile · 2 months
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A girl, small against the old, twisted tree, listens to the silence of the woods. Solitude weighs heavy; even the blossoms hold their breath.
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saintobio · 7 months
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blank canvas.
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problems arise when your tattoo artist boyfriend starts getting too cozy with the girls that wanted him to do more to their bodies than just inking their skin. the thing is, they knew what he wanted and they knew what you couldn’t give.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract
tags. nudity, insecure!reader, virgin!reader, dry humping, mentions of needles, mentions of cheating, slutshaming
notes. if you’ve been here for a while, yes this is a repost from an old hq fic :’D i rewrote and remodeled it for sukuna bc i feel like he fits this au!
part 2 | part 3
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Sukuna had seen it all.
He wasn’t dumb and he most definitely wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was attractive, bringing him a clientele of adoring women who would frequently visit his tattoo parlor. Who could blame them? He was handsome, had a good physique, and an overwhelming aura that pulled the attraction of many women, single or not, who were desperate to vie for his attention. His tattoos and his dyed hair even added to the overall bad boy persona that he had which, to be fair, was a girl’s guilty pleasure. 
The women were very assertive, it seemed, to try and lure Sukuna into their little seduction game. Was he getting tempted into it? No. He was loyal and he’d like to stay loyal to his kind and beautiful girlfriend. After all, winning you over wasn’t as easy as it would with any other girl. 
However, there were certain moments that almost tested his loyalty to you, especially when some of the women would ask to have their tattoos done on the most intimate places of their bodies. 
Take yesterday as an example: one girl asked to have a tattoo on her buttocks and she was certainly more satisfied at the feeling of Sukuna’s palms on her bum rather than the actual tattoo she was getting. And to top it all, she bluntly asked if he offered more service rather than just giving tattoos. Crazy. 
He had previously mentioned it to you that as part of his job, he was obligated to give his clients the tattoos they requested, regardless of where on their bodies they wanted them. It was strictly business. Ironically, despite dating a tattoo artist like himself, you had no single trace of inked art on your body. You were an untouched canvas that had never been painted on. Still, Sukuna respected your choice and he surely respected your boundaries even more. 
He knew that you had always been a gentle girl when he first met you at the floral shop across the street. You were always prim and proper, always dressed modestly, always following the rules, and always doing the right thing. All you cared about doing was to express your love through the delicate petals you arranged in your flower-scented haven. You were happy to be in your own little bubble, content in the company of fragrant blossoms and soft-spoken solitude. Introverted. Reserved. Pure. Unassuming. He was the exception to your goody-two-shoes nature, because he ended up winning your heart despite being the complete opposite of you. It wasn’t an easy task, either. Deciding to get to know you was on a whim at first, since he was intrigued about your simple joys in life and how you weren’t the type of girls that would visit his tattoo parlor. Something about your demure nature pulled him in until he realized that there was nothing else he wanted in this world but to make you his. He began by greeting you every morning from across the street, then giving you the same bouquet of flowers he purchased from your shop, followed by sending you texts complimenting how beautiful you looked as he watched you from his store, and finally asking you out on spontaneous dates.
It may be a bit peculiar to see the two of you together, but Sukuna pursued you because liked you. He was undeniably in love with you. He liked your smile, liked how cute and adorable you were, and liked how a simple look at you made him want to be a better man. He loved the idea of being with a girl he could protect. 
The main issue was, Sukuna dropped out of college and just decided to open a tattoo parlor business because he simply didn’t want to waste his years studying for something that he wasn’t passionate about. But that was the source of your parents’ distaste. They told you that you had no future with a guy like him. They said that they would disown you as a daughter if you decided to choose him. They called him dirty, rebellious, and uneducated. 
At that point, he thought that you would leave him after learning his rather reckless choices in life, but you stayed. 
You left your parents' home and stayed with him.
And he was grateful that you did. 
So to ask the question again, would he ever do something to betray you after everything that happened between you two? Of course, not. Not in a million years, no
But then again, he was also just doing his job and it wasn’t like he was purposely flirting with the girls that often flocked him during work hours. He was simply accommodating a client. Nothing more, nothing less. 
And on one of those typical days, he had to work overtime when one of his returning clients asked for her fifth tattoo to be done by him. He just finished picking up the tools he needed as she walked towards the recliner seat asking, “Should I sit here?” 
He nodded once, turning around to face the girl who looked at him with her alluring eyes. “Yeah, just let me know when you’re ready.” 
Oh yes, she was surely ready. She even had a smirk displayed on her face when she slowly unbuttoned her shirt, keeping her gaze at him while teasingly revealing her busty pair. 
He didn’t really pay attention to the size of her tits but instead, just casually pointed to a certain part of her body, “Is this where you want it?” he asked, referring to the lower left part of her breast.
With a very flirtatious grin, she nodded, clearly knowing that her assets were her biggest weapon. “Yes. Would it be easier if I took off my bra, yeah?” 
“You don’t have to. I can work it out,” he casually responded, reaching for his glove and busying himself with all the tool preparations. 
The girl let out a silent giggle along with her best friend who sat on the side, waiting for her turn. Waiting to be the recipient of Sukuna’s full attention. Sigh. 
“No, I can take it off for you,” the girl insisted, unclasping her bra and setting her huge breasts free for him to ogle at. They were perfectly round, probably a 40D, and a light pink shade for her nipples. With how firm they were sitting on her chests, she had probably gotten them done.  
He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he asked her to sit on the recliner chair. Sukuna had seen women half naked in his shop before, but this was the first time someone willingly got naked in front of him, most especially with other intentions rather than to simply get a tattoo. 
Because of the awkwardness, he went ahead and blasted some heavy metal music to distract his mind. He had to think of something else and not stare at the girl’s luscious tits. He had to shift his mind to somewhere else like, for example, why the girl chose a calligraphy of the words ‘la douleur exquise’ on her skin this time.
“Is this French?” he nonchalantly asked, motioning for her to rest her back while he wiped the chosen area with a damp cotton pad. He specifically avoided brushing his hand on her breast, but it looked like the girl was actually angling herself to make him touch it more. 
“It means exquisite pain,” she purred, batting her thick eyelashes at him. 
His lips formed a smirk, impressed at how much of a skank she was willing to be for him. It wasn’t new, as established before. He’d also had a fair share of women who tried to get into his pants last week, but none of them were successful. He actually found it entertaining to watch them do all sorts of stunts to make him give in. To make him submit himself to his carnal desires. He was a man after all. He had needs, he had to get some form of release, otherwise it could pose a problem in his masculinity. 
All while she was getting her tattoo done, the other girl got up from her seat to walk closer to her best friend. Sukuna decided to refer to them in his head as Slut 1 and Slut 2 because he had no intentions of knowing their names. He knew slut-shaming was terrible, but he never said he was a man of virtue and truthfully, how else could he describe them? 
“Hey, Sukuna,” the other girl called, sitting at an empty stool with a smile. “You’re single, right?” 
He kept his eyes focused on the skin he was inking on. “...No.” 
Even from the corner of his eye, he knew that both girls looked surprised, “No way? You have a girlfriend?” 
Was it really that much of a shock? 
“Yeah, she owns the floral shop across the street,” he mumbled, wiping the trace of blood on the girl’s skin after he finished another letter. 
There was a visible pout on Slut 1’s face as if learning that Sukuna had a girlfriend was more painful than the needle pricking at her skin. “So, what’s she like?” 
Sukuna thought for a while because he didn’t know where to begin. It was too much of a long story for them to hear about. You were everything he wanted in a woman and that was all he knew. “She’s cute and kind.” 
His words earned a giggle from Slut 2. “Is she like the good girl type?” 
“She is.” He figured it would be okay to converse about you like this. Besides, he would rather be talking about you than to have these girls just try to flirt with him relentlessly. 
“How much of a good girl, though?” Slut 1 egged on, “I bet she’s a virgin and a prude.” 
That was obviously none of their business, but damn. They hit a nerve that they shouldn’t have. No one else had managed to bring up a topic like that to him, more so a topic that he himself knew not to cross. His sex life wasn’t as fruitful as anyone thought so, yet not once in his life did he complain. Not once did he talk about it to anyone. Not once did he tell anyone that he had been dating you for a year now and you two never really went further than making out. 
“I respect her,” was his answer, much to the two girls’ dismay.
“That’s kinda boring, though,” the other girl claimed, draping her arm around his shoulder before leaning close to his ear. “You’re still a man and you have needs. If I were her, I’d sleep with you every day. In every position.” 
The girl on the recliner chair grinned. “Totally! Like, you’re so hot and I feel like you’re good in bed.” 
Fuck. 
He almost messed up one of the letters because his mind just flew to somewhere unforgivable. It was a sin to even think about, but shit, he definitely missed the feeling of fucking someone. He couldn’t even remember the last time he did so. 
“Sukuna?” 
He snapped out of his trance and looked up upon hearing the familiar voice, only to find you by the door, your eyes filled with hurt.
“Hey—” 
Your voice was caught in your throat as you avoided his gaze. “I just... I thought you were done.” 
In a swift motion, you hurriedly walked out of the room before dashing out the door. You didn’t even bother to look back, dead set on leaving him alone with the girls. Your footsteps were far too quick to even catch and he was hoping that you would at least slow down. 
“Babe!” he called, unable to chase after you as you shut the door. An exasperated sigh followed. 
This was going to be a big problem 
Just what was he thinking? 
He had a half naked girl in front of him and another girl clinging to him like he didn’t have a girlfriend. It must have hurt you a lot. No, it definitely wrecked you.
“Uh-oh...” the girl mocked. “I can sense trouble” 
He decided to leave it be for now and get his job done as soon as possible, even thinking of banning the two girls from going into his shop just to avoid further trouble. He had a lot of explaining to do and he couldn’t wait to go home to make sure that you would listen to him, not overthink the whole thing and place your assumptions because hurting you was the last thing he would do.
At least, he hoped you knew that.   
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You were washing the dishes when Sukuna came home and the first thing he did was to wrap his arms around you. He had your waist caged in his tight embrace, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered sweet nothings to you. To be real, you weren’t in the mood to see his face after what you saw this afternoon. You get it—he was exposed to all sorts of people with his line of work and most of them probably couldn’t just ignore his physical appearance. You were aware that some girls were only getting a tattoo to get close to him. Heck, you were aware that they all wanted to be with him.
But the only reason you were hurt wasn’t because he was desired by women, but because those very same women were all better than you in more ways than one. They fit his type more than you did and you were sure that they could give him exactly what he wanted. 
Still, it awfully tugged at your heartstrings. 
He was yours, not theirs. You had the right to be jealous when a girl was getting cozy with your man, but to see him letting them have their way? That was a different story. 
“Baby, talk to me,” he mumbled, planting a soft, apologetic kiss on your neck. 
You gave him the silent treatment as you walked away and dried your hands with a towel. What else would you say? He should already be aware of why you were acting that way. He should be the one to try and talk to you, not the other way around. And with your stubborn mind, you did your best to keep your insouciance, pulling his tattooed arms off of you and heading towards the couch. 
You could hear his sigh as he followed you, but you were determined to keep your eyes glued on the TV screen. If he wanted to talk, he should do the talking, you reminded yourself over and over. 
“You’re really pissed at me, huh,” he spoke as soon as he sat next to you, a hand carefully placed on your thigh. “I’m sorry.” 
“They’re pretty hot, aren’t they?” The bitter question left your mouth before you thought of holding back. 
He scooted closer and hooked an arm around your shoulder this time. “Definitely nowhere near as hot as my girlfriend.” 
What a load of… You rolled your eyes, remembering how the girls looked and how comfortable he was with them. “Yeah, right.” 
You couldn’t explain the tightness on your chest every time you recalled the scene earlier because you knew, you just knew, that there was more that could have happened if you didn’t check on him. You saw it in his eyes, even for a split second, that he almost gave in to temptation. How could he not? You were a prude just as they described—just because you didn’t have any sexual experience like they did. Perhaps when they called you boring, they were right and Sukuna wanted to agree. 
He couldn’t be stuck with a girlfriend that he couldn’t even have sex with, could he? 
“I shouldn’t have let them put their hands on me like that,” he admitted, showing his dire attempt to look apologetic. “Only you can.” 
You took a deep breath and shook your head. “I don’t even know why you’re still with me, Sukuna. I put so many boundaries between us. Don’t you get tired of me?” 
“Fuck no,” he quickly answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Never. You’re the only one for me.” 
Truth be told, you did feel bad that he couldn’t fully experience you as a girlfriend, but he had been very patient and respectful towards you. He never crossed the line and never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He said he was doing that because you never gave up on him even when you had the choice to. He said that you were worth waiting for. He said that he was satisfied with what you two already had.
Maybe you could let this one incident go, after all, he was never really a bad boyfriend to you. Sure, he looked like a bad boy, but when it came to you, he was surprisingly soft. 
“Okay,” you muttered, sighing in defeat and finally meeting his eyes. “Just don’t do it again. I don’t care if they get naked in front of you. Please set some boundaries and don’t entertain them too much or you’ll give off the wrong impression.” 
Your leniency earned a smile from him, delighted to earn your trust again so he made an effort to peck your lips. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“You’re annoying.” 
“You love me.” 
“I do,” you professed, placing a hand on his cheek, “so much.” 
Pleased with your words, he leaned in again to give you a much, much deeper kiss. He knew it was all he could do with you, but he wanted to make you feel that his kisses were satisfying enough for the both of you. Just with the way he moved his lips against yours and how your tongue rolled around his—it was almost impossible to breathe at one point, but he softened the kiss to allow yourself to catch some air. 
Gosh, you were jealous again. You were becoming annoyed as your mind ran at full speed, thinking of how those girls thought they could put their hands on your man. You were livid at how they tried to steal him from you. 
“You’re mine, right?” you asked for reassurance, pulling away to look at his dominating eyes. 
The smirk on his lips was replaced by a cheeky grin. “All yours, darling.” 
You didn’t know what gave you the sudden confidence to straddle his lap after he said that, but it just felt right. You wanted more of his physical affection and felt like you couldn’t get enough. Both of you were taken aback, obviously, because this wasn’t something you would normally do, and so the heat on your cheeks was mixing with the surprised look on his face. You were sitting directly on his crotch and he was having a hard time to control himself. 
“Babe,” he breathed on your neck. “You don’t have to force yourself.” 
He was right, but the thought of the other girls constantly seducing him behind your back just gave way to your deepest insecurities. You didn’t have the most perfect body in the world and you most definitely didn’t have the skills in bed that he expected—you were scared that you might lose him because of these facts. Or that he would find someone better, even at the cost of having them on the side. 
“Hey,” he spoke again, making you look at his eyes as you relaxed into his touch. “It’s fine. If you want it, I can be gentle. We can go slow.” 
“I-I don’t know... I just,” you hesitated, not knowing exactly how to put it into words. 
You didn’t know why sex intimidated you. It should be as easy as 1-2-3,  just him putting his member inside you, right? But you weren’t really scared of doing the act itself, you were scared that once you did it, he would leave you because he already got what he wanted. Losing it to the wrong person sounds like a nightmare and that was why you were having trouble coming into terms of losing your virginity before marriage. 
You could feel the hardness on his crotch pressing against your core and you didn’t expect a moan escaping your lips when you moved at the slightest. The fabric of your shorts were thin enough for you to feel the outline of his hardened member, displaying a prominent bulge on his sweatpants. You haven’t seen how big he was, but you could tell just by looking at his bulge that he was huge. Could you even take that? 
He held your waist and guided you to move again, this time urging you to move your hips back and forth, allowing you to feel the friction from his hard erection. Lust was clouding his eyes and it made you feel weak. 
“How does it feel?” he asked, his hot breath tickling your ear. 
You continued grinding on him with your lips parted, releasing your silent moans, “G-Good.”
He leaned forward to kiss your neck, eventually sucking the soft skin to leave his beautiful marks. “I wanna eat you down there, baby,” he growls under his breath, squeezing your right breast, “You’re gonna taste so good, I bet.” 
“Suku—” you whined, gripping his hair while he started matching your movements with his own. It was a foreign feeling for you to feel his bulge rubbing against your untouched core. 
“Fuck,” he cussed in a low voice, squeezing your ass with his huge hands in growing excitement. “Let me get a condom.” 
This was it. 
It was happening. 
Or was it?
Your eyes widened in panic as you pushed him back onto the couch. It was as though all of your senses were awakened and your body was telling you that you shouldn’t be doing all this. “N-No, I... I’m not ready.” 
You didn’t mean to always chicken out when you two were almost about to do it. You just didn’t feel confident enough to give yourself yet and even if you badly wanted to, you just couldn’t make yourself do it.
You could see the hint of disappointment on his face and he was trying to hide it. 
“Right,” he exhaled deeply with his head thrown back on the headrest. “It’s alright. Maybe next time,” he convinced himself. 
“I’m sorry,” you softly mumbled, hand gripping on his shirt. 
He gave you a quick peck on the lips before pulling you out of his lap and getting up from the couch. “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine.” 
You stayed seated as you watched him walk away. “Where are you going?” 
“I have to finish this off on my own,” he answered without looking back. You realized he was referring to the act of touching himself because you just couldn’t do the job for him. It was obvious how frustrated he was and for goodness sake, you did feel guilty, but then again, he didn’t act like this before. When you told him you didn’t want to do it further, he would simply laugh it off and say he would wait for you. 
This wasn’t the same Sukuna that said that. 
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You became a little paranoid. 
Considering that girls would still pay your boyfriend a visit at the tattoo parlor, you always ended up overthinking about what he was doing while you were supposed to be busy at the floral shop. In the middle of arranging a bouquet of beautiful peonies, your mind was on haywire. You just didn’t feel at ease. You felt like anyone could easily snatch him away from you because you weren’t particularly a striking girl to begin with. You were leaning on the simple, conservative side rather than the rebellious, liberated women that swarmed his shop in hopes of sleeping with him. 
Because your thoughts were eating you alive, you decided to head to his tattoo parlor after closing the shop to make sure that he wasn’t doing any funny business. 
And you were somehow right. 
About three girls were in there this time, two of which you had already seen a couple of days ago, and they were already leaving the parlor just as you arrived. 
“You’re really amazing, Sukuna,” one of the girls told him in gratitude, “I might get another one soon.” 
You watched them walk past you with a smug expression on their faces as they left the shop. Sukuna had then seen you standing by the door with your arms crossed. 
“Really?” you questioned, walking inside with a frown. “They’re here again?” 
He sighed and walked back to his station while cleaning the mess from the tattoo session. He wasn’t even trying to win you over anymore. “I can’t just ask them not to come anymore. They’re still clients.”
“Let me guess,” you continued, “Did one of them get naked in front of you again? Did you let them put their hands all over you again? Did you perhaps forget that you had a girlfriend again?” 
His brows, now furrowed in annoyance and his mouth, thinning in displeasure. “No. We talked about this.” 
You held your breath, raising a brow in return. “I’m starting to think you’re doing more for them than just giving them tattoos.” 
“Like, what? Sell my body?” His question was clearly a taunt. A spasm of irritation crossed his face, but he still managed to display a mocking smile. “Is that what you’re suggesting, angel?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Then, what?” 
“You know what I mean,” you replied, trying to get your point across while keeping your composure. “You’re an attractive man and they’re the type of women you would willingly sleep with.” 
“Jesus. You’re so insecure, it’s crazy,” he retorted, rolling his eyes at you. 
Insecure? You couldn’t believe, just couldn’t believe he called you insecure. The air crackled with tension as your jaw tightened, muscles twitching with every suppressed urge to lash out.
“I wonder why!” Your voice rose hysterically. “If you weren’t busy flirting with those girls, maybe I won’t be so insecure.” 
“I said I’m not flirting with them!” he argued, slamming his gloves on the floor. His face contorted into a mask of rage and he looked at you with frustration that you had never seen before. It hurt. It certainly hurt. He had been acting distant since the night you didn’t give in to him and you knew that his exasperation towards you was rooting from that. 
Your breathing became unsteady. “But you know you’d sleep with them if given the chance. Since I couldn’t do it with you.” 
“Then, just fucking do it with me instead of bitching about it every day!” he snapped, voice thick with insinuation. “I don’t wanna be stuck acting like I give two shits about your interest in flowers and whatever nonsense you like to talk about. I wanna be with someone I can have sex with, not sit on the couch all day with a boring person like you!” 
His hurtful words left you frozen like a statue, unable to move while being dominated by the shooting pain inside your chest. 
You knew this day would come—that he would eventually get tired of waiting around for something that he could easily get from others. However, what hurt you most was the fact you believed he wasn’t that type of guy. That he wasn’t with you solely for what you could give, but rather, for what you just had. You thought he sincerely understood your boundaries and respected your choices the very same way you respected his, but it seemed that he had another thought in his head all along. 
After seeing the look on your face, Sukuna had softened his gaze and walked closer to you in reproach to his words and actions, “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean that.” 
A tear fell from your eye as you looked at him with both anger and pain building inside of you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You wanna have sex? Is that what you want?” Your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence. “You wanna do it so bad, let’s fucking do it, then!” 
Your fingers forced their way to spitefully unbutton your blouse despite his desperate efforts to stop you. You must be going crazy. But also, he drove you to this point. 
“Baby, no,” he said in remorse, grabbing your wrists tightly. “No, I’m sorry. I’m content with you. I really am, I’m sorry. Please.” 
Your chest heaved as you cried, unable to stop your emotions from exposing all of your vulnerabilities. “It’s obviously not enough for you.” Your voice quivered, each word a fragile whisper trembling with the weight of unspoken sadness as you sniffled and wiped your eyes. “You knew what kinda girl I am when you dated me.”
He pulled you for a hug and kissed your temple way too many times that you lost count. He felt absolutely sorry for ever hurting you with his words, but they just hit you so painfully to the point that your gaze grew distant and your face was clouded with resignation. 
“I know what kinda girl you are and I’m in love with you for it,” he reaffirmed, as if trying to get it through your head but his words were beginning to feel empty. “Please, believe me. I really didn’t mean what I said. You’re enough for me, baby. You’re all I want.” 
You didn’t feel comfort from his words, but you still returned his embrace because you loved him. Because you knew, even if he said more hurtful words, that you would still love him. Sure, you would be angry, but your love for him ruled higher than your pride. 
You were just scared of losing him over something like this. 
“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear before placing a soft, apologetic kiss on your lips. 
When he pulled away, your heart still felt heavy, but you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. 
“I love you, too.” 
He ran his thumb across your cheek and held your waist on his other hand. You just couldn’t get his words out of your head even after he apologized, because you never knew he was seeing your relationship that way all along. 
The girls were right. He was a man after all and he had needs. 
The fact that he was staying with you despite not fulfilling his needs must be a work of charity for him, and eventually, he would get sick of waiting around. He would desire you less and less the more the days passed by and it wasn’t absolutely crazy to think that he could potentially meet another girl he liked that was willing to give it all. 
The mere thought of it scared you. 
“I’ll do it with you tonight,” you offered, your voice breaking, hoping that you could finally break the barrier and be enough for him. 
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euphoricfilter · 1 year
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Stardust || JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x F. Reader
Genre: Fluff || Smut || Friends to Lovers au
Summary: If Jungkook would have known an unintentional orgasm would have led to this, then he would have begged you to work out with him sooner.
Word Count: 5.5k
Tags/ warnings: himbo-ish jk, so much fluff idk where it came from, smut in the forms of: unintentional masturbation turned coregasm, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex (because that’s really cool), mirror sex, doggy style, technically multiple orgasms, they’re both giggly and in love it’s kinda gross, jk is a tits man, he’s obsessed with boobs, it’s all very tame and kinda soft ig
Notes: yay first fic of 2023. this was way harder to write than i’d anticipated, hopefully i pulled through. and if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t!
<3 thank you to my prettiest baby @4amj3zz for reading this atrocity before i posted it
my full masterlist
✯ ✯ ✯
If every living being’s foundation is made of stardust, scattered when born, then Jungkook thinks the two of you were made from the same star.
A friendship that’s near impossible to come by, crafted by the hands of a higher being— delicate fingertips moulding fickle personalities and emotions that seem incomplete when not together. Two angels sent to earth to be each others’ number one in another life they’ll spend together.
Precious, like naturally formed diamonds.
And maybe that’s what your friendship was, one of the world’s little treasures. One everyone yearns for, though only a select few have.
Sure, diamonds can be replicated, graphite turned jewelry, simply there for show. A statement piece if you must.
Fake diamonds and fake friendships that seem to be more common than the real deal. Hard to crack, though not impossible— splitting the two of you up into pitiful shards and lost pieces; where even the most skilled hands have trouble putting it back together.
Jungkook doesn’t remember life before you. Though he thinks it must have been dull, flimsy smiles, and friends that hadn’t bothered to call once they moved away.
His existence so easily forgotten, that the gnawing sadness didn’t seem to last as long as he’d anticipated. Simply walking the path of life alone, though he often thought solitude wasn’t all that bad.
Until your worlds had collided. The big bang of your friendship, a new world, a new start, everything so fresh and untampered with.
He’d thought about what life would be like if one day the two of you were to ever part ways, the very thought of you not being by his side like a harsh punch the gut.
And maybe he had gotten a little teary eyed on those evenings he felt a little softer, a little sadder at the thought of you ever leaving. His hands fumbling around his sheets for his phone, your voice his only remedy for his growing anxiety, where promises were whispered and sleepy smiles remained on your faces as you rested.
Jungkook doubts that day will ever come. And maybe that’s all just wishful thinking, a juvenile dream that the promise you’d made to one another would hold strong for the rest of time, until the two of you lay six feet under. Resting side by side until your bodies rot, flesh becoming one with the earth, what is left of your existence blossoming into something beautiful; perhaps a tree, a flower, truly anything, as long as you were together.
“Together?” you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes, eyebrows creasing in distaste.
Jungkook thinks you look pretty in that moment, even if you are pulling a face at him. The two of you sat at a bench in the park, your head haloed by the setting sun, last of the days warmth kissing both your skin in a gentle goodbye before the moon watches over the two of you.
Littles galaxies reflected in both your eyes, where Jungkook thinks each star in his represents one thing he loves about you; hidden behind the moonlight because he doubt yours represent the same.
“Yes” he nods, hair flopping a little over his forehead, and you push the stray strands out of his eyes. Fingers delicate as they brush over his skin, always so gentle with him that his heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly.
“Kook, I love you— you know I do” and he nods, lips quirking up a little, “But working out just, isn’t for me” you conclude, tone firm and his shoulders deflate. Because he knows it’ll take more than glossy puppy eyes and a pout for you to give in.
“First off, I love you too—“
“Thank you” you nod. But Jungkook doesn’t think you understand the weight behind those words.
“And look, how do you know it’s not for you, if you’ve never tried?”
“You put me off” and Jungkook would have thought you were joking if you didn’t have that deadpan look on your face. One he was all too familiar with.
“Huh” he gawks, “How?”
“You always complain about sore muscles, and the thought of being sweaty grosses me out” your head tips forward dramatically, cushioned by your arms from the table.
“It’s a good ache” he watches you turn your head, lips moulded into an unconvinced pout as you stare up at him through your lashes.
“There is no such thing as a good ache, Jungkook”
“Is too”
“When?” you flail, unbothered as Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists.
“Sex ache”
You pause, “Excuse me?”
“You know?” he cocks his head to the side.
“No” you shake your head in utter disbelief.
Jungkook’s mouth falls open, “You’re a little pillow princess aren’t you, I bet you don’t do any of the work”
“Do too, besides—“ you swallow, “It’s none of your business” you pull your hands free of his grasp.
“Come on, I feel like we’re at a point in this relationship we can share these things” his cheek rests atop of your head, each syllable pulled out into a whine.
“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Jungkook” you huff.
You watch him sit up ramrod straight, brain whirring behind his eyes. You think that if he thought any harder you’d be able to hear the echo of his voice.
“Actually, I don’t really wanna hear about yours either” his nose scrunches up, melting your resolve.
A secret charm of his that he didn’t know he had; and you’d never tell him either, no way in hell would you let him weaponize your weakness against you when your heart could barely stand being sat so close to him.
“Best friends don’t always share everything” you quip, only it leaves a tangy taste on your tongue.
“I suppose” Jungkook nods, evidently less enthusiasm radiating off him.
Best friends. It always wet your mood. Like sour candy that’s too sour, or a cute dog that’s breath smells like a rotting carcass.
But that’s what you were, introductions to new classmates or new lovers; it was always best friends. Two simple words that felt like utter shit to say, tumbling past your lips like vomit and then you had to rawdog the aftertaste because you don’t have any toothpaste or mints nearby.
Never anything less, even though there was definitely a lot more going on between the two of you. (Not that either of you had any idea about that.)
It’s a wonder as to how neither of you had grasped the fact that every previous relationship the two of you had, had ended because of the other. Nothing ever seeming to fit in place, the click never being there when it came to someone else.
Communication is key in upholding a relationship of any kind, issues easily resolved with hours of conversation turned mutual understanding, and progression made with a mix of both actions and words. As two people whose love languages were physical touch, the former is just as important as the latter.
One of the only reasons your friendship has lasted this long, is that you both value each other enough to communicate when necessary.
Apart from when you could probably really use it, unidentifiable emotions weaving into your hearts, mixed with a dose of denial can really set you back when you’re near infatuated with your closest friend.
It’s not that either of you had never considered a relationship with one another, others outside your little bubble had brought it up enough times that the meager possibility of it actually happening had been cemented into your thick skulls.
Something nice tickling both your brains at the fact so many people thought you were together together; like, in love together.
Long gone were the days where you’d blurt out your denial to dating accusations with rose dusted cheeks, simply believing the world had a thing against opposite sex friendships. Now, the two of you just laughed off whoever liked to comment on how good you looked as a couple. (Which had brought more than a few of Jungkook’s relationships to turmoil)
It’s just that neither of you believed the other wanted anything more than friendship. A rookie mistake on both your parts, especially when you’d both establish that every and all emotions were to be discussed with one another, no matter what you felt.
“One time” you break the silence, any way to ease the growing tension between the two of you “I’ll work out with you one time. And never again”
You watch the smile as it pulls at the corner of his lips, the prettiest smile, your favorite smile, enough of a reward for whatever pain you’re about to put yourself through. Because as long as Jungkook was happy, then you’d crawl to the ends of the earth if it meant you got to see this smile one more time.
“I love you” he bends down, sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek and you can’t help your own smile, heated cheeks covered as you swat him away from your face. Wiping his saliva from your skin with the back of your hand.
“Whatever” you tut, though Jungkook sees through your faux annoyance.
“We can use my at-home gym as well, so we won’t even be in public”
“Wonderful. Let’s go back now, I’m gonna freeze my tits off if we stay any later”
You don’t catch Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to your chest, lingering a little longer than proper before he’s slinging his zip-up hoodie around your shoulders. Eyes flickering down to his hands briefly before he’s knocking shoulders with you.
“Chivalry isn’t dead” you utter, falling into Jungkook’s side when his arm falls over your shoulder.
✯ ✯ ✯
Jeon Jungkook was sex on legs when he worked out.
You were no stranger to him training, countless vacations together, where the morning was spent with him doing press-up on the balcony or the occasional few times he’d bench-press you for a laugh.
You’d never found it funny though, pussy throbbing between your thighs as he’d grab onto you, arms flexing deliciously. And he never seemed to question why you’d lock yourself up in your room after, purely a coincidence that you’d disappear for an hour after his little stunt.
You were no stranger to a half naked Jungkook either.
Nor were you a juvenile teenager whose panties got in a twist when she saw a toned stomach.
However, this wasn’t just any toned stomach.
Jeon Jungkook was built like Adonis. Carved where every crevice had meaning and every flaw only enhanced his beauty. And it’s hard to think the bushy haired, acne prone teen boy you’d first befriended had turned into this.
If puberty had benefited anyone, it was Jungkook.
“We’ll do something easy today, okay?” he claps and you nod, watching as he saunters over to a basket.
“Pink or blue” he holds up two yoga mats.
“I didn’t think you were into rhinestones” you snort, sun catching on the bedazzled rim of the pink mat— streaks of pink painting the wall.
Jungkook drops said mat, chucking you the blue one before he’s dropping to his knees on the floor.
“It’s one of my exes” he tells you, motioning for you to sit.
If people were flowers, then this is the moment you would have wilted. Deflating in on yourself; it’s not that you were jealous per-say. It’s not like him and his ex were dating at all but still. The very mention of her was enough for you to roll your eyes.
“And you didn’t throw it out?” the words hurdle out your mouth before you can even think about what you’re saying.
“No?” his eyes meet your own, “I’m not throwing away good gym equipment”
You sigh, somehow expecting no less from him. Jungkook was a man of many skills, and he’d hounded you to try hobby after hobby with him— but nothing got him going like a good work out. If all other passion in life disappeared then he would still have working out as his escape.
You sigh, “I have somewhere to be later, so let’s hurry this up” a little white lie, but that never hurt anyone.
“You’re not going on another one of those shitty blind dates, are you?” he groans and you whine.
“I told you, I’m never going on any of those ever again”
“You better not” he unrolls his mat, and you follow.
“Or what?” you turn your nose up at him and Jungkook’s foot collides with your thigh.
“On your back, you brat.”
✯ ✯ ✯
“How much more” you flop against the mat, eyes closing.
“That was only the warm up” Jungkook hums, pushing himself up off the floor.
You hear him walk to the other side of the room, cupboard door creaking open as he rummages around for something.
You peek up at him through your lashes when he throws a towel over your back.
“Roll that up” he motions towards it, coming to sit beside you, “And up onto your back again”
Your eyes widen by a fraction when he gently takes the towel out of your hands, pushing your knees apart before he’s closing them; towel stuffed between your thighs.
Your gaze travels down the length of your body, thighs twitching as Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your ankles.
“All you have to do is raise your legs like this okay?” and he demonstrates, making sure to keep your legs straight as he lifts them to a ninety degree angle from your torso. “Leg raises should be easy, even for you” he hums.
“What’s that supposed to mean” you snap, ready to push yourself up, except Jungkook’s hands press down over your chest.
“Hey! No complaining”
You swallow thickly, aware of Jungkook’s eyes on you as you raise your legs on your own this time.
“Pretty good, remember to tense your core when you do it, okay?”
You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you do as you’re told.
Your eyes squeeze shut, body hyper aware of each small movement the towel has right over your clit. Pussy throbbing inside your panties and you worry your slick had started to soak through your shorts.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to take notice of your growing predicament, hands hovering over your calf to make sure you’re raising your legs all the way. Though that’s the least of your worries as you feel each new wave of unadulterated pleasure pulse through your core.
“Not so bad huh?” he grins.
It’s a strange sensation, pure arousal ebbing up your body, every brush of your panties over your clit, weight of the towel over your slit slowly bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm.
“I don’t think—“ you start, cutting yourself off with an arm covering your face at a particularly intense wave of arousal. Your stomach tightening at the feeling.
“Just a few more, you’re doing great”
“Kook, I really don’t think—“ your hand clamps over your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers take hold of your legs, helping you raise them; and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. And you can’t help the surprised moan that drips off your lips.
Your knees bend, nudging against your tits as your hand falls over your sodden pussy, dull wave of your orgasm throbbing throughout your body.
Jungkook looks down at you, eyes wide as you simply lay there with your hands between your legs.
“Did you just piss yourself?” he asks, mouth falling open in awe.
“What the fuck?” you cry, “I just came you idiot”
Jungkook’s cheeks flush red, “Oh” he nods, “Oh. You had a— holy shit”
“Don’t look at me like that” your eyes glaze over with tears, heat prickling up your body in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened”
Your feet fall to the floor, towel falling from between your thighs as you let out a stuttered breath, body still buzzing with the after affects or your surprise orgasm.
“Jungkook?” you peek up at him through hooded eyes, heart pattering so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat.
Jungkook’s eyes meet your own, “That was so fucking hot” he groans, “Looked so pretty”
You watch as his hand rubs over his shorts, his own arousal hard to hide as his head tips back in a way that extenuates his neck.
“Huh?” your eyes widen, willing yourself to not look at what his hands were doing.
“Should have known something like this would have turned you on”
“I wasn’t even turned on” you exasperate, “I clenched my core like you said and it just happened”
“Mhmm” and you can tell he’s unconvinced.
“Stop rubbing your dick, you horny piece of shit” you clamp a hand over your eyes, thighs clenching when he lets out a deep groan.
“Can’t help it” he lets out a sigh, “I’ve been dreaming of what you’d look like when you came, shame it wasn’t on my cock”
Your hand falls from your eyes, “Dreaming?”
“God, haven’t I made it obvious?” he asks, his own hands falling to his sides, though now you have a full view of his straining erection.
“Made what obvious?” you whisper.
“That I like you” he asks and you gawk at him.
“You, like me? I’ve been trying to hint that I like you” you point at him, mouth falling open in disbelief.
“Huh?” it’s Jungkook’s turn for furrowed brows, “I swear you didn’t like me”
“I could have sworn you didn’t like me”
Jungkook snorts, “When did I ever say that?”
“You’re unbelievable”
“Me? What about you?”
Your body lays flaccid, muscles loose; heart hammering in your ears as Jungkook leans back on his hands.
“How long?” you ask, not daring to look up at him.
“High school”
You push a palm into the socket of your eye, low groan rumbling up your throat, “I’ve liked you since, I don’t know, probably high school as well”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice soft and you can feel yourself tearing up— so many emotions plaguing your mind at once you don’t know how to feel.
Jungkook scoots closer to you, “I could say the same thing about you” you huff.
“Why’re you crying” he frowns, thumb gentle as it brushes against your damp cheek.
“We wasted so many years. I seriously thought— you’ve had so many girlfriends”
“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, I guess I thought my feelings would go away if I gave my heart to someone else. And then you started dating around too and I really thought I’d never have a chance”
“Me too” you sigh, nose scrunching up in distaste for all your failed relationships.
“Guess it didn’t work out for either of us huh?” he hums and you nod.
“I think we’re both stupid” you murmur.
And Jungkook nods, “I agree”
“What do we do now?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, frown on your face.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook’s head hovers over your own, the sun meeting the moon at the same point in the sky— your eclipse. The rest of your world suddenly shrouded in darkness, all you can see, think, smell, everything just Jungkook.
You nod, eyes flitting across his face as his arms cage your head. You can see his biceps flexing in your peripherals, thick muscle straining under the weight of his torso.
Jungkook’s lips hover over your own, a breaths width away from touching. You tilt your head up, pillowy lips cushioning your own and that’s when everything falls into place.
There’s nothing desperate about the kiss, ever so gentle and slow, the two of you aware that lost time can be made up in the future as you simply bask in this moment; your worlds aligning, tilting on the same axis, everything just perfect and right, and your hearts beating in sync, and breathing stuttered as you both pull away with hesitance.
Your hands cup Jungkook’s cheeks, eyes searching his own for anything, just something to tell you this wasn’t all a dream— that he really did like you back.
“You’re so pretty, you know?” he whispers, his lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips.
“No” you smile, giggle bubbling up your throat and Jungkook can’t help but grin down at you.
“I’ll tell you every day, all the time. You’ll get sick of me”
“I could never get sick of you, Jungkook” you push yourself up onto your elbows, noses bumping.
He tilts his head, kiss firm, and you moan as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, a silent plea for access.
You oblige, arms slung over his shoulders as you bring his body closer to your own, heat radiating off the two of you in thick waves.
“You taste so good” he groans, hands wandering down your body, teasing as they pull up the hem of your hoodie, “Want this off”
Your fingers tug at the offending material, dragging it up your body, “Hang on” you pull away from the kiss, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the sight of you. Red swollen lips, a sheen of his saliva coating them.
You pull your hoodie over your head, throwing it somewhere, a problem for later. Thighs clenching as Jungkook stares down at you— eyes wandering.
“And this” his fingers skim over the edge of your sports bra, dancing over your skin, mapping you out of every little spot he wants to kiss.
You hesitate.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable” Jungkook’s smile is gentle, retracting his hands and you want to whine at the loss of contact.
“I want to” you tell him, hoping the shake in your voice didn’t sound too unconvincing. The incessant throbbing between your legs wouldn’t go away unless Jungkook helped you out and your patience was slowly wearing thin.
“But?” he urges.
“I’m nervous” you admit and he smiles; reassuring.
“How can I help?”
You squirm under his gaze, fizzling embarrassment painting your cheeks red, “Can we both—“ you cut yourself off with a whine.
“Come on, gotta use your words, my love”
“Can we both get naked” you splutter, “At the same time?”
Jungkook’s head falls back, fully belly laugh wracking through his body, “Of course”
You tug your shorts off, Jungkook following you; a pile of both your clothes laying forgotten by your head. You’re too distracted tugging your sports bra off to see Jungkook’s length slap against his stomach. Tip of his cock an angry red, his fingers barely touching his shaft as he closes them around the length.
“Oh” he croons, “How pretty. Can I touch you?”
You nod, falling onto your back.
Jungkook’s careful as he touches you, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, testing the waters as he tugs at them, eliciting a breathy moan from you.
“Feels good?” his voice low, and you nod; hips involuntarily bucking upwards when you finally cast a glance at his length. Eyes widening a little in awe.
His fingers dig into your flesh, and he bends down, lips closing around one of your nipples. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin; tugging in a way that sends warm pleasure straight to your core.
He kisses over your chest, lips worshipping your skin, fingers skimming over the underside of your boob.
Each gentle press of his lips are searing as he works down your body. And your breath hitches as his hovers over your pussy, folds glistening with your arousal.
“Oh baby” he groans, and your thighs twitch as his warm breath fans over your core.
Your fingers tangle into his hair, impatient as they tug him closer to where you need him; an embarrassed whine falling past your lips when he kisses over you clit, once, then twice.
“Jungkook” you squeak, legs tensing when he finally wraps his lips around it, tongue flicking at your clit meanly.
He simply hums, vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure straight through your body, another gush of wetness dribbling from your hole. Jungkook wastes no time, fingers scooping up your leaking arousal before he’s pushing them into you.
“Oh” your chest stutters a breath as he pulls his fingers out of you, tongue licking a broad stripe over your cunt before his thumb brushes over your clit.
“You like that?” he asks, though the question was rhetorical as he repeats the motion. Tongue teasing over your hole before he’s lapping up your slick; sucking at your folds, squelching lewd accompanied by each hearty moan.
Your thighs start to shake, clamping around Jungkook’s head though that barely deters him, as he pushes your legs open by your knees.
“Stop. Kook— please” you whimper, “wanna cum around your cock”
That catches his attention, and with one final kiss to your clit he’s pushing himself onto his elbows.
Jungkook looks like the epitome of sin, slick stained chin and swollen red lips, unashamed as he licks your arousal off his face, humming in satisfaction as your chest stutters out a breath.
“Lemme get a condom” he murmurs, lips pressing another kiss over your knee before he’s pushing himself to stand. Your eyes follow his body, heavy cock bobbing against his stomach with every step he takes.
“Hopefully they’re not expired” he calls from the other room, and you giggle at that, “We’re good” he flashes you a grin as he drops back between your legs; foil wrapper held between two fingers.
You watch his fingers run down his length, thumb brushing over his slit and you feel slick dribble out of your hole as a bead of pre-cum coats the head of his cock shiny.
“Please” your head tips back, hands impatient as they tug at your nipples; Jungkook completely entranced by the sight. “Hurry, hurry” you nudge his thigh with your foot, and albeit reluctant, he tears his eyes away from your tits.
He rips the condom open with his teeth, a cheesy attempt at seducing you, and you weren’t about to tell him all he had to do was breathe and you panties would dampen.
He rolls the rubber down his length, fingers wrapping around his cock as he tugs a few times. You choose that moment to flip yourself over, hips raised as your chest lays flat against the floor and Jungkook moans.
“My pretty baby” he croons, hands roaming your ass before he’s pulling your cheeks apart; eyes fixed on your clenching cunt. Ever so enticing, silently begging to be filled and fucked until you can’t think or walk; a perfect excuse for Jungkook to pamper you a little.
You wiggle your hips, giggle muffled in the crook of your elbow has he parts your lips with his thumb, gently dipping into you hole before he’s pulling out.
“Please, Jungkook”
And that’s all it takes for him to line the head of his cock up with you entrance, tip nudging against your clit before he’s pushing into you; every inch stretching you apart deliciously.
“So good” you sigh, walls clenching around him and Jungkook can’t help the stutter of his hips, punching the air out of your lungs at the sudden intrusion.
“Sorry—“ his fingers dig into your hips, “Just feels so good, sucking me in”
You rock back onto his cock, breathy moan tumbling past your lips as your ass meets his pelvis; cock fully tucked into your pussy.
“Give me a moment” you shudder, body thrumming in anticipation.
Jungkook hums, hands wandering your body, fingers dancing over your skin. A surprised moan echoes throughout the room as his hands grab both your tits, squeezing them, fingers rubbing over both your nipples sending hot pleasure straight to your cunt.
He can feel you rhythmically clenching around him, walls sucking him in as you rock forward an inch before you’re sinking back down on his length.
“Okay” you nod, fingers holding onto the edge of the yoga mat.
“You sure?” he asks, pulling out to the tip, hips slow as he plunges back into you.
“Mhmm”
You feel Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts.
You can’t help each near pornographic moan that’s pushed out of you with each harsh slap of Jungkook’s hips meeting your ass, skin smacking wet as your slick coats your thighs.
“So good for me” his head tips back, arms hooking around your bent elbows.
You let out a squeak as he sits you up, and your walls constrict around his length as he pushes deeper inside of you, gush of wetness clinging to his thighs.
“So good” your head tips back onto his shoulder, knees helping you bounce up his length.
Your back arches when the head of cock hits your g-spot, ring of creamy slick gathering at the base of his cock each time you pull up to the tip.
“Look at that” Jungkook murmurs into your ear, one hand tangling into your hair as the other settles over your throat.
He tugs your head up, and you catch your reflection in the full length mirror; insides of your thighs coated in a sheen of your slick, Jungkook’s hips thrusting his cock up into you, both your bodies glistening with sweat.
The red hue of your cheeks flushes down your neck and chest, shade darkening with each wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook helps you bounce in his lap.
He watches your tits bounce, both his hands wandering to grab them, pulling your back closer to chest as he pounds into you.
“I’m gonna cum” you hiccup, hands scrambling to hold onto his bicep as your other hand travels down your body, fingers gathering up your slick before you’re circling your clit.
You thighs start to shake, crescent moons indented into your skin as Jungkook’s grip on your chest tightens, your walls throbbing around his cock, drawing him closer to his orgasm.
“Yeah?” his hips stutter, “Come for me then, pretty. Let’s come together”
You moan, fingers unrelenting as you thrum at your clit in tight circles. Your orgasm wracks throughout your entire body when it hits, stomach tensing as your cum coats Jungkook cock, which twitches as he thrusts up into you.
He holds you down on his length, deep groan rumbling through his chest as he shoots his seed into the condom, your walls continuing to milk him of everything he’s got.
“Good girl” he soothes, hands falling to your hips as you fall forwards, cheek pressed against the mat as Jungkook pulls out, thrusting back into you gently.
“Thank you” you whimper, thighs tensing as he pulls himself out of your sodden pussy, folds glistening creamy white.
✯ ✯ ✯
Everything feels right. The two of you tucked into Jungkook’s bed after a shower, both your hands roaming one another’s bodies.
You’d clung to Jungkook’s back as he’d cooked you both dinner, work-out long forgotten as you’d both worked up an appetite. Muscles too sore, too achey, to even think of carrying on anything that isn’t wrapping up warm in each others’ arms.
It’s strange how so much, but nothing had changed. You still danced around each other with practiced ease, hands still feathery light, skimming over hips and backs, where legs are tangled under blankets, cold feet on warm skin.
There was something mellow in the air, a film of freedom, hearts on your sleeves for one another to see, where kisses felt softer, deeper in promise and love.
All the ‘I love yous’ holding the right weight, both understanding that the love you feel is the right kind of love.
He’d thought about it a lot, from the day you’d both confessed; messy, but a confession nonetheless. (And he had made sure to ask you to be his girlfriend in a more romantic setting than his spare room turned gym). That maybe the time growing up as just friends wasn’t wasted.
Failed relationships and sticky breakups simply teaching the two of you the right way to love.
Learning the give and take of relationships, what it truly meant to be in love with another person. Where you want nothing more than their happiness, a pure sort of adoration that consumes your entire being until they’re always on your mind. Small, seemingly insignificant parts of life reminding you of them. Trinkets in corner shops or the changes in season, certain smells, textures of clothing.
Learning about what you want for yourselves and how to take care of one another.
So he doesn’t regret all those years spent as just friends. Because maybe the two of you were too young, too eager, too scared about something as precious as true love. Growing up together, as just friends, might have brought the two of you closer than rushed first loves and petty arguments that you’d look back on and regret.
Red string. Stars. Fate. Destiny. Any of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what brought the two of you together, two souls intertwined until you both part ways when your lights flicker out. Though he thinks you’d reignite them wherever the two of you end up later on, new lives, new worlds. New everything, where he gets to learn about you all over again, explore your being, as you explore his, and you’re moulding into one another once more.
He wonders how long you’ve both been laying there, lips pulled up into lazy smiles, kiss swollen; little galaxies reflected in both your eyes.
Where every glistening star is a reason as to why you love each other. Your galaxies shining with a million different reasons, moonlight no longer veiling what lay beneath.
Because Jungkook thinks, if people were made of stardust before they were born. There’s no doubt in his mind, the two of you were made from the same star.
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cerezzzita · 2 years
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— aesthetic words to fill up your vocabulary ♡
✦ if you're tired of using the same repetitive words to describe feelings or actions on your writing, here are some aesthetic words that are not frequently used to help you evolve your vocabulary better and also maybe help you with creative titles <3
ABENDROT: the color of the sky while the sun is setting.
ABIENCE: the strong urge to avoid someone or something.
ACHROOUS: colourless.
AEQUOREAL: marine, oceanic.
AESTHETE: someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature.
ALIFEROUS: having wings.
AMITY: warmth and heartfelt friendliness in a friendship; mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship.
AMORIST: someone who is in love; someone who writes about love.
AMBROSIAL: fragrant, delicious.
ANTHOMANIA: great love for flowers.
AQUAPHILE: someone who is an enthusiast of all things related to the water.
ARENOCOLOUS: living or burrowing in sand.
ASPERSE: change falsely or with malicious intent; attack the good name and reputation of someone.
ASTERISM: agroup of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars.
ATTAR: essential oil or perfume obtained from flowers.
AUREATE: golden or gilded; brilliant, splendid.
AURICOMUS: with golden or yellow colored foliage.
AVIOTHIC: the strong desire to be up in the air or to fly.
BALTER: to dance artlessly, without particular grace and/or skill but usually with enjoyment.
BATHIC: pertaining to depths, especially of sea.
BELAMOUR: the one who is loved; a beloved person.
BELLICOSTIC: aggressive, belligerent, warlike.
BENEFICENCE: the quality of being kind or helpful or generous.
BERCEUSE: a quiet song intended to lull a child to sleep.
BLÁFAR: indicating the freshness and beauties of youth or health; attractive and possessing charm.
BRONTIDE: the low rumble of a distant thunder.
BURBLE: to speak in an excited manner.
CAELITIS: the divinities who dwell within the celestial planes.
CATHARSIS: the release of emotional tension, especially through kinds of art or music.
CELERITOUS: swift, speedy, fast.
CERAUNOPHILIA: loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful.
CHEVELURE: the nebulous tail of a comet.
CINGULOMANIA: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms.
COCCINEOUS: bright red; scarlet.
COCKAIGNE: an imaginary land of luxury and idleness.
CONSTELLATE: to eluster; to compel by stellar influence.
COSMOGYRAL: whirling around the universe.
CORDOLIUM: heartache; heartfelt sorrow.
CORUSCATE: to reflect brillantly, to sparkle.
CRAMOISY: of a crimson color.
CREATURELY: a person who is controlled by others and is used to perform unpleasant or dishonest tasks for someone else.
CRYSTALLOMANIA: an obsession with crystals and other crystalline objects.
CHRYSALISM: the amnotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.
CLINQUANT: glittering with gold and silver.
CLYSMIC: cleaning, washing.
CUPIDITY: greed for money or possessions.
CYANEOUS: a sky-blue color.
CYNOSURE: guiding star; a object of common interest.
DARKLING: of or related to darkness.
DÉCLASSÉ: having fallen in social status.
DEIFORM: god-like or divine in nature.
DEMERSAL: that lives near the bottom or a body of water.
DESIDERIUM: an ardent longing, as for something lost.
DISPITEOUS: cruel and without mercy.
DOUX: sweet, soft, mild, gentle.
DRACONTINE: belonging to a dragon.
DYSANIA: the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.
ECCEDENTESIAST: someone who fakes a smile.
EFFLORESCENCE: a period or state of blooming, blossoming.
ELEGY: a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead.
ELEUTHEROPHILIST: someone who advocates free love.
ELYSIAN: beautiful or creative, divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.
EMACITY: desire or fondness for buying things.
EMPYREAL: pertaining to the sky; celestial.
EPHIALTES: a nightmare; the demon Incubus that supposedly causes a nightmare.
EPICARICACY: the joy that results from others misfortune.
EREMOPHOBIA: the deep fear of stillness, solitude, or deserted places.
ETHEREAL: extremely delicate, light, not of this world.
EUMOIRIETY: happiness due to state of innocence and purity.
FLORENTIS: abounding in flowers; being in bloom and adorned with plentiful flowers.
FREICEADAN: guard, garrison, watch, sentinal.
FULMINATE: cause to explode violently and with loud noise.
FURCIFEROUS: brat; rascally, scandalous.
GLOAMING: twilight, dusk.
GRAME: anger, wrath, scorn; sorrow, grief, misery.
HALCYON: calm and peaceful; happy, prosperous.
HELLION: a rowdy or mischievous person.
HELIOPHILIA: desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight.
HEAVENIZE: to render like heaven or fit for heaven, to purify and make a holy place or a person.
HENOTIC: promoting harmony or peace.
HIRAETH: a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.
HOLILY: belonging to or derived from or associated with a divine power.
HYPNAGOGIC: the state immediately before falling asleep.
IGNICOLIST: a worshiper of fire.
ILLECEBROUS: attractive and alluring.
IMPLUVIOUS: soaked with rain.
INCANDESCENCE: light produced by high temperatures.
INCALESCENCE: the property of being warming.
INCENDIARY: designed for the purpose of causing a fire, likely to cause anger or violence.
INEFFABLE: too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.
INSOUCIANT: free from worry, concern or anxiety.
IRENIC: aiming or aimed at peace, promoting peace.
IRIDESCENT: producing a display of rainbow-like colors.
INVIDIARE: to envy.
ISOLOPHILIA: a strong preference and affection for solitude.
KALOPSIA: the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.
KALON: beauty that is more than skin deep.
LACONIC: expressing much in a few words.
LACUNA: a blank space; a missing part.
LATIBULE: a hiding place, a place of safety and comfort.
LAMBENT: to glow or flicker softly. Luminous, light or brilliant.
LIMERENCE: the state of being infatuated with another person.
LONGANIMITY: still suffering while planning revenge.
LOUCHE: disreputable; morally dubious.
LUCELENCE: the state of being fine and beautiful; shining, brilliant.
LUCIFORM: resembling light in appearance; having, in some respects; the nature of qualities of light.
LUMINESCENCE: light produced by chemical, electrical or physiological means.
MALTALENT: the negative emotions of wanting injury or harm to befall someone; a hostile behavior or attitude towards someone considered an enemy.
MARMORIS: the shining surface of the ocean.
MAZARINE: a dark blue color; rich blue or reddish-blue color.
MELIORISM: the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world.
MÉLOMANIE: an excessive and abnormal love and deep attraction to music and melody.
MERCURIAL: subject to sudden or unpredictable changes.
MESMERIC: appealing; drawing attention.
MORDACIOUS: biting or given to biting; biting or sharp in manner; caustic; capable of wounding.
MORPHEAN: of or relating to Morpheus, to dreams, or to sleep.
MOXIE: courage, nerve, determination.
NEBULOCHAOTIC: a state of being hazy and confused.
NEFARIOUS: wicked, villainous, despicable.
NEMESISM: frustration, anger or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living.
NERITIC: pertaining to shallow coastal waters.
NOETIC: of or associated with or requiring the use of mind.
NOIRCEUR: the state of being pitch black in color; a state of lacking illumination.
NUBIVAGANT: wandering in the air, moving through the air.
NUMINOUS: spiritual or supernatural; surpassing comprehension or understanding; mysterious.
ONEIRODYNIA: restless, disturbed sleep, characterized by nightmares and sleepwalking.
OPHIOMORMOUS: snake-like.
ORPHIC: mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding.
PAVONINE: characteristic of a peacock; resembling the tail of a peacock; as in colors; iridescent.
PETRICHOR: the scent of rain on dry earth.
POIESIS: creation; creative power or ability.
PORPHYROUS: purple; of purple hue.
PLAXONDRY: the mix of introspective nostalgia, sadness, and calmness felt when listening vaporwave and its related genres.
PRATE: to talk excessively and pointlessly.
PROCELLOUS: tempestuous, stormy.
QUIDDITY: the essence of something.
QUIXOTIC: extravagantly chivalrous or romantic; visionary, impractical or impracticable.
RANTIPOLE: a wild, reckless young person; to be wild and reckless.
REDAMANCY: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.
REDOLENT: having a strong distinctive fragrance; serving to bring to mind.
REMEANT: coming back, returning.
RESPLENDENT: having brilliant or glowing appearance; dazzling and impressive in appearance through being richly colorful or sumptuous.
REVERIE: a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.
RODOMEL: juice of roses mixed with honey.
ROSEATE: rose-like; overly optimistic.
RUTILANT: glowing or glittering with red or gold light.
SANGUINEOUS: accompanied by bloodshed.
SASHAY: to strut or move about in an ostentatious or conspicuous manner.
SCIAMACHY: a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow.
SEQUACIOUS: lacking independence of originality of thought.
SERAPHIC: beautiful and pure; having a sweet nature befitting an angel or a cherub; of or relating to an angel of the first order.
SERENDIPITY: finding something good without looking for it.
SKINT: having little or no money avaliable.
SOLIVAGANT: someone who wanders or travels the world alone; a solitary adventurer.
SOMNIATE: to dream, to make sleepy.
SORTIGER: delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular.
STELLIFEROUS: having or abonding with stars.
STELLIFY: to transform from an earthly body into a celestial body; to place in the sky as such.
SUCCIDUOUS: ready to fall, falling.
SPUME: a white mass of bubbles or froth on the top of a wave.
SYNODIC: relating to or involving the conjunction of stars, planets or other celestial objects.
TARANTISM: the uncontrollable urge to dance.
TEMENOS: a sacred circle where no one can be oneself without fear.
THANATOPHOBIA: fear of death.
TYYNEYS: the state of peacefulness; absent of worry or fear, being composed and at ease.
ULTRAMARINE: beyond the sea; greenish-blue color.
VELLEITY: a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action.
VENERATION: a profound emotion inspired by a deity.
VESPERTINE: in or of the evening; setting at the same time as, or just after, the sun.
VERDANT: with plants and flowers in abundance.
VERMEIL: a liquid composition applied to a gilded surface to give luster to the gold.
VERTICORDIOUS: to turn the heart from evil.
VIOLESCENT: tending toward violet color.
VORFREUDE: the joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.
WANDERLUST: a strong desire to travel and explore the world.
WHIST: to hush or silence; to still, to become still.
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cerezzzita©, 2022 · all rights reserved
10K notes · View notes
thedensworld · 25 days
Text
Alone at Night | K.Mg
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Pairing: Mingyu x Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, established relationship, short!
Summary: Mingyu has no idea until he had to sleepover in your house because of the rain. In fact, it hurts him.
In the dimly lit room, the soft patter of rain against the window was the only sound, punctuated occasionally by a distant rumble of thunder. Mingyu shifted on the couch, glancing at the clock on the wall. 2 a.m. already. He hadn't planned on staying this late, but fate, it seemed, had other ideas.
As he nestled deeper under the cozy comforter you had provided, Mingyu couldn't help but smile, reminiscing about the evening that led to this unexpected slumber party. Your movie date had been nothing short of perfect – a delicious dinner cooked by your own hands followed by a marathon of films, laughter, and the warmth of your presence beside him.
But as the clock struck midnight, Mingyu had made a mental note to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome or make things awkward. Yet, as if the universe conspired against his plans, the rain began to pour relentlessly, trapping him in your cozy abode for the night.
"Fourth date and already a sleepover," he mused to himself, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring his thoughts. Mingyu couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in his chest at the thought of spending more time with you, even if it was under somewhat unconventional circumstances.
Reflecting on how he had met you through a mutual friend, Mingyu couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn his life had taken. Your calm demeanor and quiet energy had drawn him in from the start, and what had begun as a simple friendship had blossomed into something deeper – something he couldn't quite put into words.
And when he finally mustered the courage to confess his feelings, Mingyu had braced himself for any outcome, never daring to hope that you might feel the same way. Your stoicism had kept him guessing, but your acceptance had filled him with a warmth he had never known before.
As he drifted off to sleep, cocooned in the comfort of your home and the promise of a new day with you, Mingyu couldn't help but feel grateful for the rain that had brought him here – and for the person who had stolen his heart in the most unexpected of ways.
In the midst of his own thoughts and worries, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of concern gnawing at him. He knew you had been through a lot lately – the setbacks at work, the financial burdens from family, the weight of responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. Yet, you always seemed to carry yourself with such grace and composure, never letting on just how much you were struggling.
But as he lay awake on the couch, the sound of faint sobbing drifting through the stillness of the night shattered Mingyu's facade of calm. His heart clenched with a mixture of anguish and helplessness, realizing that it was you – the person he cared for deeply – who was silently bearing the weight of your own troubles.
With cautious steps, Mingyu approached your slightly ajar door, his ears straining to catch the sound of your stifled sobs. His hand hovered over the door, torn between respecting your privacy and wanting to offer whatever comfort he could.
Inside your room, you sat on the edge of your bed, shoulders trembling as you tried to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Despite your best efforts to reassure Mingyu and everyone else that you were okay, the facade cracked in the solitude of the night, allowing the pent-up tears to finally spill over.
Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight of you on the bed, your body trembling with silent sobs. The realization that you had been crying alone, even with him just a room away, sent a pang of guilt coursing through him. What pain had you been concealing behind that stoic facade? The thought gnawed at him, filling him with a deep ache of concern for you.
Summoning his resolve, Mingyu softly knocked on your door, his hand lingering on the doorknob before gently pushing it open. The dim light of the night lamp cast a soft glow over the room as Mingyu stepped inside, his gaze drawn to your form on the bed.
"Do you need something, Mingyu?" Your voice, tinged with exhaustion and sadness, cut through the silence. You looked up at him, attempting to mask the vulnerability that lingered in your eyes, but Mingyu saw through the facade.
Without a word, he approached you, his heart heavy with the weight of your pain. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached out and switched on the night lamp, illuminating your tear-stained face. His hand moved to your cheek, gentle and tender as he wiped away the evidence of your tears.
In the quiet intimacy of the moment, Mingyu hummed softly, a soothing melody meant to offer comfort and solace. There were no words to express the depth of his concern for you, but in that simple gesture, he hoped you could feel his unwavering support and the love that overflowed in his heart.
"Mingyu..." Your voice quivered as you spoke his name, a mixture of relief and vulnerability laced in those two syllables.
"It's okay... You can cry..." Mingyu's voice was gentle, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul. With a reassuring nod, he extended his hand, offering you the comfort and understanding you so desperately needed.
As you sat in front of him, the floodgates of emotion burst open, tears streaming down your cheeks unchecked. Mingyu's heart constricted at the sight of your raw pain, but he remained steadfast, his arms opening wide to envelop you in a warm embrace.
"Baby..." Mingyu's voice was tender, filled with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. He pulled you closer, holding you tightly against his chest as you surrendered to your tears. Each sob wracked your body, but Mingyu held you with unwavering strength, his presence a beacon of solace in the darkness of your despair.
You cried harder, the weight of your burdens feeling momentarily lighter in Mingyu's embrace. His words of reassurance washed over you like a gentle wave, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the storm of your emotions.
"It's okay, you're doing great... I'm here." Mingyu's whispered words echoed in the stillness of the room, a promise of his unwavering support and unconditional love. And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you knew that you were not alone – that no matter how heavy the burdens you carried, Mingyu would always be there to share the load.
Wrapped in the comforting cocoon of your embrace, Mingyu held you close, his arms a steady anchor amidst the storm of your emotions. He watched as your tears gradually subsided, your breathing slowing to a steady rhythm against his chest. With tender care, he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"Is it always like this? Every night?" Mingyu's voice was soft, tinged with concern, as he finally broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind.
You shook your head, the remnants of sadness still lingering in your eyes. "Sometimes it just hits randomly at night. Without a reason."
"This time too?" Mingyu's question was gentle, his gaze searching yours for any sign of reassurance.
You nodded, the weight of your admission hanging heavy in the air between you. But Mingyu didn't falter – instead, he pulled you closer, his touch a silent vow of unwavering support.
His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting gesture as he spoke, his voice filled with determination. "If this happens again, later... Call me. I'll be by your side, like this."
In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of Mingyu's love and the promise of his steadfast presence, you felt a glimmer of hope ignite within you. No matter how dark the night may seem, you knew that with Mingyu by your side, you would never have to face it alone.
477 notes · View notes
marvelstoriesepic · 2 months
Text
Still on the list
Pairing: Frat!College!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes, the infamous frat guy, known for sleeping around and throwing parties left and right, constantly invites you, out of all people, to all of them. His intentions though remain a mystery to you. Following a troubling event that leaves you shaken and anxious, Bucky is there to pick up the pieces. Stolen glances and exchanged smiles gradually blossom into a connection that goes beyond what meets the eye.
Word count: 14.1k
Warnings: annoyance to friends to lovers; panic attacks!; creepy man; angst and comfort; Bucky is a frat boy
author’s note: This took longer than I hoped, but I love it!
Masterlist
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One minute.
One minute did it take for the class to end and yet it felt like an eternity.
You stared at the clock in anticipation, not paying an ounce of attention to what your professor was talking about.
Was he even talking?
Were you supposed to write something down?
You wouldn’t know.
RIING
Finally, the blissful sound of the bell pierced through the monotony.
You took your eyes off the clock in the far corner of the lecture hall, a sigh of relief leaving your lips and started packing your stuff.
“Alright class! See you on Monday! Have a great weekend.” Your professor exclaimed before walking out of the hall with a wave.
Amidst the chorus of thank you’s and see you on Monday’s and packing your laptop in your bag, alongside your pen and notebook (basically for small, unnecessary doodles, instead of notes) including your water bottle, you noticed Wanda slipping onto the bench beside you with her backpack draped over her right shoulder and an amused smile plastered on her face.
“Late again,” she teased.
You groaned. “Blame that slowpoke of a bus driver.”
“You know you can always ride with Pietro and me.” She nudged your shoulder playfully.
You offered her a grateful smile but shook your head. “It’s inconvenient for you.”
After being forced to live on campus for your first year of college you decided to get a small apartment to save some money and get the privacy you wanted and needed. Living on campus was expensive enough and with the small amount of money you got for working in a café and babysitting sometimes in the evening there wasn’t much left for you to enjoy yourself a little.
You never really enjoyed living in a dorm together with someone you didn’t know and sharing that same space. Your roommate for that first year was perpetually boisterous and tried dragging you to every party within a five-mile radius. Despite your initial resistance, you eventually succumbed to peer pressure. After enduring an eternity of loud music and plastic cups thrust into your hand, you found yourself in the grim confines of a bathroom stall, holding back your roommate‘s unruly hair as she retched into the toilet bowl. It was a moment of disillusionment that solidified your resolve to seek solitude and sanctuary away from the chaos of dormitory life.
Though you hated every minute of that day, in the end, you were glad you went, because it was where you met Wanda.
As fate would have it, Wanda found herself reluctantly dragged to the same party by none other than her brother, Pietro. Aforementioned guy managed to catch your roommate since she ‘accidentally’ slipped in front of him. She kept giggling with his arms draped around her and you apologized to him and Wanda though you knew it was actually really not your fault.
So while your roommate occupied Pietro you had a pleasant conversation with his sister. You clicked immediately.
“It takes ten minutes Y/n, it’s truly no big deal.”
“Well, I’ll keep it in mind! Thanks, Wan!”
You walked out of the hall and crossed campus together. Since you just had this one lecture today you signed in for a shift at the café you worked at and were just about to bid Wanda goodbye when-
“Maximoff!”
You didn’t make any attempt to even try not to roll your eyes.
Wanda turned around and so did you eventually, not concealing your dissatisfaction with the approaching guy, a scowl forming on your face.
Bucky Barnes.
Of course.
Now, there were a lot of things you tolerated. It was hard to rile you up, but Bucky Barnes? He exceeded every limit.
You couldn’t stand the guy. And he knew it.
He caught up to you girls and kept his attention on your friend.
“Hey, Wanda! You have a minute?”
Before she could react he turned to you, pretending to see you just now.
“Oh. Y/n! Haven’t seen you there.”
You wanted to punch that arrogant grin off his face.
“What do you want?”
“Well as I was gonna ask Wanda,” he emphasized her name with a playful drawl and turned to her, “You and your brother are coming today right? Sam got the drinks and we got a new beer pong table. We gotta initiate it correctly.”
Another eye roll escaped you as Wanda shot you a brief, amused glance before addressing Bucky. “Pietro’ll come. The party was the only thing he talked about this morning.”
“Perfect!” Bucky grinned. “You’ll come too right? You can have a plus one!” He nodded his head towards you while meeting your steely gaze with unwavering confidence.
“Nothing will get me to enter your stupid frat party Barnes!” you retorted dryly.
Bucky’s grin remained firmly in place, his cockiness bordering on infuriating.
“Well I’ll be there,” he declared, turning his attention toward you with a smirk.
You cocked your head. “There’s the reason why.”
A soft sigh from Wanda diverted your attention, prompting you to check the time on your phone.
“Whatever, I gotta go!” With a brief hug, you bid her goodbye.
“Text me later?”
“Course, Wan!”
You flashed her a quick smile before striding away, ignoring Bucky’s futile attempt to prolong the conversation.
“Where ya going?” he shouted after you.
“Work!” Your response was curt and you continued your way.
****
“That’ll be 4.75$.”
The girl in front of you swiped her card through the card reader and you placed the cup with her latte on the counter separating you.
You thanked her for the small tip and turned away when she left, to stock up on the coffee beans. You leaned down and grabbed the bag out of a drawer from under the counter as you heard the door to the shop open.
Your coworker went to the storage room to store the milk that came in a few minutes before and it wasn’t that busy so you were good on your own out front.
“Just a sec!” you called while opening the bag and pouring the beans in, standing with your back to the counter.
“All good! I’m in no hurry.”
You stilled for a second, almost pouring over the beans. Although you couldn’t see him right now you could tell he wore that shit-eating grin again.
You pulled the bag away harshly with a few falling out. You would take care of that later. Probably not though.
You put the bag aside, preparing yourself to turn around, and came face to face with the one and only Bucky Barnes.
Seriously?
Two times in a day?
You wiped over your apron and met his gaze. “What can I get you?” You tried feigning that kindness you were supposed to show your guests though you knew you could try more.
Not taken aback by your grimace and still slightly annoyed tone he leaned on the counter and pretended to contemplate what to get.
You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at him.
“I think I’ll go for a black coffee,” He grinned at you.
You uncrossed your arms to get to work. “Small, medium, large?” You were really trying to stay professional here.
“I’ll take it medium, doll.”
It wasn’t the first time he called you that, though you‘ve heard it come out of his mouth plenty of times to plenty of girls so you guessed he didn’t even recognize he was calling you that too.
You got to work while Bucky watched you intently, still leaning on the counter.
You hoped he would stay silent but guessed that thought was futile since he walked in here.
“So, you think about coming?”
“No.”
“No, you haven’t thought about it or no, you aren’t coming?”
“Both.”
It wasn’t the first time he somehow tried to get you to come to one of his frat parties. Be it through Wanda or Pietro or just blatantly asking you to come. You knew your answer every time. He should have known that too but he seemingly never stopped trying.
“Aww, come on doll! Already put you on the list.”
“Do whatever you please Barnes but I’m not coming,” you retorted while finishing up his coffee and sliding it across the counter over to him. “That’ll be 2.95$.”
Will Wanda come?” He didn’t attempt to grab the cup, instead he stayed rooted and looked at you.
“Don’t know. Maybe”
After that party your former roommate dragged you to, you avoided them at all costs and managed not to attend any other. Wanda sometimes came along with Pietro to get him back home after drinking too much. You considered coming along for moral support a few times but didn’t want to give Bucky the satisfaction of getting you to come. And Wanda always claimed she‘d be fine.
He leaned to take the cup of coffee and a milk pack from beside where you were standing.
“Alright well, you know where to go,” he slid over a 5$ bill. “Keep the change!” He lifted the cup a bit. “And thanks!” Giving you his signature smirk.
“Barnes that’s too much for a single coffee!” you protested and were about to collect his change but he was already halfway out of the shop.
“Keep it!” he threw over his shoulder and you looked after him a little irritated.
His persistence annoyed you to no end so why did your lips curl up in a smile, despite yourself?
****
You didn’t come.
It was nearly midnight and you found yourself nestled in your bed, the soft glow of your laptop illuminating the room as you rewatched a movie for the umpteenth time.
There probably would be a few things you’d like to do instead, but going to one of Bucky's notorious frat parties, will just never be one of them.
You couldn’t even really tell why you held such a grudge against the guy. He never really was explicitly rude or anything, yet there was something about his demeanor that rubbed you the wrong way.
Bucky Barnes had been a constant presence on campus since day one. Whether it was in the hallways or outside the building, Bucky was always surrounded by a rotating cast of admirers, girls vying for his attention. It became a familiar sight to see him engrossed in conversation with yet another girl, his charm seemingly boundless.
Amidst the flurry of attention and admiration that surrounded Bucky, there were moments when his gaze seemed to linger in your direction as if seeking to ensnare your attention as he did with others. You’d catch him looking at you in the hallways. You’d see him standing outside your lecture hall, although he didn’t even attend this class. However, you never attempted to acknowledge him and were set on keeping your distance.
In your second semester, you found yourself sharing a course with him. That was where he first initiated interactions with you. At first, it was a subtle passing glance, a nod, and a smile of acknowledgment, but soon his efforts to engage with you became more pronounced. It started with a request for notes when he wasn’t there the other day. And then there were times when you ran late and he saved you a seat beside him, sending you a wave and a charming grin.
But then you would watch him effortlessly flirt with other girls, letting them sit on his lap and whispering in their ear, you having the front row seat. You couldn’t pinpoint why his flirting with other girls left a bitter taste in your mouth, but it deepened your reservation, solidifying your decision to maintain a sense of distance.
Despite not sharing any classes with Bucky in your second year, he seemed determined not to let your lack of proximity deter his efforts to engage with you. His persistent attempts to catch your attention continued unabated - although you never gave him much to work with - seeming to find a way to cross paths with you all the time.
The first time he asked you to come to one of his frat parties, you were sitting in a small booth at a café near campus, nursing a latte and discussing your professors together with Wanda and Pietro.
You laugh. “Right? She once even gave-”
“Pietro! Hey, man,” comes his voice across the café and Bucky Barnes approaches you three.
You drop your smile and divert your attention to your latte as Bucky greets Pietro and Wanda.
“Y/n! Nice to see you.” His voice dripping with charm.
Upon hearing your name you lift your head and offer a strained smile, hoping to convey at least a semblance of politeness.
“Hi,” you answer lamely, not an ounce of enthusiasm found in your voice.
Bucky’s smirk deepens in response, a knowing glint in his eyes.
Your smile turns into a grimace.
“You coming tonight man?” he asks Pietro.
“Course Buck! I‘ll be there.”
“Great!” His attention turns to you.
“You girls are welcome too, you know.”Although addressing both, Wanda and you, he keeps his gaze on you.
“Yeah, no thanks!”
“We’ll think about it!”
Wanda sends you a glare, reminding you to stay nice. Though Bucky doesn’t seem fazed by your lack of interest, the boyish smirk still present on his lips.
“Well, I’d be happy to see you.”
You don’t even have time to answer him when a brunette, standing at the counter, calls his name.
You look in her direction though his eyes remain on you a few seconds longer until he turns away and bids his goodbye. Wanda and Pietro answer him while you remain silent, taking refuge in your coffee cup.
He was attractive, you gotta give him that but you never were someone to go after looks. There were so many more important things to see in people. Sure, you don’t know how he treated or saw his flings, or hookups, or whatever but you supposed you didn’t wanna know.
****
After you worked your ass off at the café during the weekend you were more than unpleased to be sitting in your lecture hall at 8 in the morning on a Monday. At least the bus was on time you supposed.
Wanda slid in beside you and put down a cup of coffee in front of you before unpacking her backpack.
“Oh god Wan, you’re an Angel!” You took a big sip and sighed dramatically.
Wanda snickered softly, organizing her notes.
“You know, Pietro told me someone was a bit disappointed,” she began and you looked at her confused.
“The party,” she continued but you just stared at her oblivious.
She sighed. “He hoped you’d come this time.” She studied you with a careful expression but you saw the corners of her lips turning up lightly.
You blinked. “Why would he think that?”
Wanda shrugged. “Well he’s pretty persistent,” She studied you some more and you began to feel uneasy, “You could give him a chance.”
“Huh?” you mumbled, caught off guard.
Turning toward you fully, Wanda leaned in slightly. “I don’t really know him that well, but he’s different with you. Pietro’s mentioned it. He’s never made this much effort with anyone else.“
Perplexed, you pondered her words.
“And honestly,” Wanda continued, “He’s a nice guy. I mean I get he’s got girls around all the time-”
You grimaced.
“-but he’s not the guy to lead anyone on or make someone feel worthless, I’m sure of it.”
That got you silent and you looked at her, pouting your lips in contemplation.
“He had a girlfriend once but as far as Pietro knows it didn’t end well. She moved away and they tried that long-distance relationship crap-”
You raised an eyebrow.
“-but she then started seeing someone else without telling him.”
You exhaled deeply, processing the information. “Alright well that sucks…sure…but is that a reason to use girls like that?”
“How are you so sure that’s what this is?” Wanda countered
Before you could respond, your professor arrived, saving you from further discussion. You were kinda glad he was on time cause you really had no idea how to answer that. You couldn’t know what he does with those girls. What he told them. How he treated them. How he made them feel.
Actually
You didn’t know anything about him at all.
****
Nearly two weeks had passed and you haven’t seen Bucky since he came by the café you worked at. Despite your efforts to push him out of your mind, you found yourself occasionally thinking about him or scanning the hallways for a glimpse of him.
Wanda got sick the day prior so you were sitting alone in class. After making idle conversation with some fellow students, you decided to stay back and finish up your notes.
You heard footsteps approaching but didn’t look up until someone settled beside you.
“That looks kinda complicated.”
Irritation bubbled up, but you were surprised to find you didn’t immediately feel the urge to roll your eyes all the way up to your brain at the sound of his voice. Reluctantly, you turned to face him, a sigh leaving your lips
“What are you doing here? This isn’t even your class!”
“Came looking for ya,” he replied, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.
You returned your attention back to your notes. “What for?”
“Shouldn’t you be able to tell?” He grinned and bumped your upper arm lightly.
That was the first time he initiated any form of physical contact and you weren’t sure what to make of it.
“Another party, I assume,” you remarked plainly.
“Smart girl! Missed you the last time.”
“Then have fun missing me this time as well,” you retorted, not bothering to look at him.
You felt his eyes on your profile but didn’t turn to him.
“Well just wanted to let you know you’re still on the list,” he said, his voice laced with that characteristic smirk.
That dude really wouldn’t give up, would he?
Quickly finishing your notes and packing away your things, you draped your bag over your shoulder, ready to leave the hall. As you turned to go, you glanced back at him.
“I’ll think about it,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm, though deep down you couldn’t deny that small part of you, that was considering his invitation this time.
****
The party started by now.
Standing in your bedroom you wavered on the threshold of the decision to go to his party or not.
You found yourself grappling with uncertainty, questioning the motivations behind your sudden inclination to attend the party. Was it a twinge of guilt for his past misfortunes that nudged you towards empathy? Or perhaps a genuine curiosity sparked by the desire to unravel the enigma of his persistent invitations?
You pondered, your thoughts swirling. Perhaps this was all a game to him? Or maybe there was something deeper, something he needed to prove to himself or to others.
Yet, the idea of subjecting yourself to potential humiliation at a frat party churned your stomach. You had no desire to be caught in the whirlwind of debauchery and recklessness.
But Wanda didn’t really make him seem like the kinda guy to pull shit like that.
Though how could she be sure?
The sudden ringing of your phone shattered the swirling thoughts that had consumed you, pulling you back to the present moment. With a grateful sigh, you glanced down at the screen, Wanda’s name lighting it up.
“Hey Wan,” you greeted her while laying back on your bed.
“Hey Y/n. I assume you’re not at the party.”
“Nope, you know me.”
“Okay well, could I ask for a favor?” Wanda’s voice held a hint of hesitation.
You sat up. “Yeah, sure Wan, what’s up?”
“Pietro will need someone to pick him up later but I’m still feeling pretty shitty at the moment and…I don’t know I was thinking maybe-“
“You’re asking me to pick him up?” you finished her sentence, sighing deeply.
“Kinda, yeah,” Wanda confirmed sheepishly.
You chuckled. “Sure, I can do that Wan, no problem.”
You could hear the relief in Wanda’s breath. “Thank you babes, I owe you! You can take his car, I’ll leave the keys under the pot outside.”
“You don’t owe me anything Wan, I’m glad I can help! You stay in bed and rest, alright? I’ll take care of your brother,” you assured her.
After exchanging a few more words, you hung up and prepared to leave. Opting for a casual outfit you threw on some wash jeans and a shirt.
Considering you spent a good amount of time on spiraling whether to go or not it got rather late already and it still would take you some time to get to Pietros car and to the party.
You grabbed the keys from under the pot, got in the car and started driving. It had been a while since you made use of your license considering you couldn’t afford your own vehicle, but you managed.
As you parked the car and stepped out onto the pavement, the distant throb of bass pulsed through the air, a tangible force that seemed to reverberate through your entire being. With each step towards the fraternity house, the music grew louder, assaulting your senses with its relentless intensity.
You walked up to the guy standing at the door with a ripped sheet of paper in his hand. You assumed that was what Bucky referred to as list.
“Hey, uh, I’m here to pick up Pietro Maximoff,” you stated, hoping to avoid being drawn into the revelry inside.
The guy’s smirk was infuriating as he chuckled dismissively. “Oh I’m sure he’s a little busy right now.”
Suppressing a sigh, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his remark.
“What’s your name sweetie, you could always go in and join the party.”
“Yeah no I’m fine, I’ll just-”
“Wait, are you the infamous Y/n?”
You blinked. You were not entirely used to people knowing your name. You’d like to believe you were nobody. Whether on campus nor in general. So why did this random guy know your name and call you infamous?
You didn’t have to answer, instead the guy nodded towards the door, granting you entry with a casual wave.
“Come on in, Buck will be thrilled to see you,” he remarked, stepping aside to let you pass.
Feeling utterly disoriented and out of place, you stepped inside, your senses assaulted by the overwhelming cacophony of noise and the oppressive heat of the crowded room. The stench of sweat and alcohol hung heavy in the air, causing you to wrinkle your nose in disgust. With each step, the floor seemed to cling to your shoes, a sticky reminder why you avoided this for so long.
You tried to adjust to the flickering lights and internally scolded the person who decided those colors were a good match when you heard your name be called.
“Y/n?”
You weren’t surprised to hear his voice since it was partly his party but you were surprised he recognized you this fast since you just stepped inside. Was he watching the door?
His smile greeted you as he stood before you, and you were blinded for a second there.
“You’re here!”
“Uh, well I’m kinda just here to pick up Pietro. Wanda asked me to.”
Bucky’s smile faltered slightly at your words. Clearing his throat, he offered a tentative response. “Oh. Well, haven’t seen him,” he exclaimed, his gaze momentarily flickering away before returning to meet yours.
As Pietro’s slurred voice called out your name, you turned to see your friend stumbling towards you, a wide grin plastered across his face. He draped an arm around your shoulders, and you instinctively supported him, wrapping your own arm around his waist to steady him.
“What’re you doin’ here, princessa?” Pietro slurred, his words punctuated by a drunken laugh.
You laughed. “Came here to pick you up, Piet. Wanda’s still not feeling well.”
But Pietro, clearly undeterred by your explanation, attempted to pull you along with him, his movements unsteady as he swayed on the spot within your hold.
“Let’s get you a drink, princessa,” he insisted, his grip tightening around you.
Refusing to indulge his request, you gently guided him towards the door, ignoring his protests. As you turned to leave, you caught sight of Bucky, his jaw clenched and his eyes darting away from your close proximity.
“I guess thanks for the invite Barnes but this really isn’t my scene.” You gave him a tight lipped smile and turned to Pietro again.
Meanwhile, Bucky remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the door you just disappeared behind.
****
Since that day at the party three weeks ago, Bucky had been somewhat of a ghost, disappearing from the usual campus scene. Despite not seeing him, thoughts of him seemed to linger in the back of your mind and you caught yourself looking out for him in the hallways.
You made your way to the restrooms between your two classes of the day cause you just had to drown yourself in coffee on your 4-hour shift in the café this morning.
After locking yourself in one of the cabins that still held toilet paper you heard the door to the restroom creak open and made out the hushed voices of two girls filtering in. One of them clearly crying.
“What’s wrong with me? He literally jumped in bed with every other girl on campus! Why not me?” the girl sobbed hysterically while her friend got her some paper towels from the dispenser.
You rolled your eyes at her antics and decided to just wait out until they left.
“I don’t know El, but Jake did say something about him wanting to change.” You could picture her gesturing quotation marks with her fingers at the ‘wanting to change’ part. And though you weren’t quite the type to gossip you held your breath and listened intently.
The other girl blew her nose while her friend continued.
“He hasn’t been to a party for the last, I don’t know, maybe three weeks or something. Just stayed locked in his room. That’s what Jake told me. Don’t know what to make out of it though,” the girl chuckled, “I mean it’s Bucky we’re talking about.”
As Bucky’s name entered the conversation, your ears perked up, and you felt compelled to listen. Thoughts swirl in your mind, multiplying like rabbits in a field. Was that night you picked up Pietro the last party he attended? Why the sudden disappearance into seclusion? Why would he lock himself in his room? Why did he dump that girl? You didn’t know who that Jake dude was but you weren’t sure if he was right.
You snapped out of your thoughts to catch the still crying girl whine again. “But I tried really hard Meg! I pinned notes on his locker, I smiled at him all the time, I sent him my notes from history per mail, the one time he didn’t come and I slipped my phone number into his backpack when he wasn’t looking-”
Suddenly you were grateful for standing right beside a toilet cause you felt the urge to vomit.
“-and he just straight up told me he’s not interested?!”
You heard the other girl, Meg, probably short for Meghan or something but why would you care, sigh. “I’m sorry El, but maybe he’s really just trying to become better than that.”
The crying thankfully stopped and was replaced by a scoff and an exasperated intake of breath. Personally, you’d describe it as overly dramatic but who were you to judge.
As the girls finally departed, leaving behind the remnants of their dramatic exchange, you released a sigh of relief.
After finishing what you came in here for in the first place you left the restroom as well and walked through the hallway on your way to your next class.
And as god, or the devil, or Mother Nature, or something the fuck else wouldn’t have it any other way there he was. Bucky was standing at his locker, taking a look at a pink piece of paper in his hand for only a second before crumpling it in his fist. You could only guess what it was.
He turned to the trash can to throw it in there and when he looked back up he met your gaze. His eyes lit up at seeing you, but nevertheless, you noticed the tired look he wore and couldn’t help but feel kinda bad for him.
Normally when passing Bucky in the hallway you wouldn’t spare him an attention spawn over two seconds but here you were giving him a somewhat genuine smile, a rare display of empathy, which he reciprocated immediately.
Even as you turned the corner and continued on your way, you couldn’t shake the sensation of his eyes lingering on you. You couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading in your stomach.
Bucky stopped asking you to come to his parties. As far as you knew he didn’t even attend them himself anymore. You shared with Wanda what you overheard in the restroom, and after confirming with Pietro, it became clear that Bucky was indeed making some significant changes in his lifestyle.
Bucky Barnes was truly an enigma.
Armed with insider information from Wanda, you learned that Bucky refrained from being seen with any girl for weeks and stopped planning and attending the frat parties. He seemingly even talked about leaving the fraternity altogether.
You don’t know what to do with those information but you did notice a shift yourself. You saw Bucky again two times since you passed him in the hallway a few days ago.
You were walking through the library together with Pietro and Wanda when you saw him sitting there in the far corner with his textbook open and a pencil poised. You stood and drank in the sight of him for a moment. His brows were furrowed deep in concentration and he lightly tapped his pen on his notebook rhythmically. He let his hair grow out a little, wisps falling onto his forehead. He sure as hell was a sight for sore eyes.
As if he picked up on your staring he lifted his head and looked over in your direction. The intensity of Bucky’s gaze sent a jolt through you, causing your heart to race as you hastily averted your eyes, feigning interest in the books on the nearby shelf. Despite your attempt to appear nonchalant, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on you.
Stealing another glance in his direction, finding him still watching you, his soft smile a stark contrast to the cocky grin you were accustomed to. The corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly without having your consent.
The sudden interruption of Pietro’s arm around your shoulders broke the spell between Bucky and you, snapping him out of his reverie. With a subtle shift in his posture, he straightened his back and lowered his head back to his textbook.
The other time, yesterday, you decided to join Wanda and grab something to eat at the canteen. As you stood in line with Wanda you were the one to feel eyes on you, prompting you to turn and find Bucky’s piercing blue gaze fixed on you.
Your lips curled in a smile and Bucky’s sweet grin in response sent a flutter through your chest.
To your own disappointment, you ended up sitting with your back to him throughout eating, though you pushed it aside.
****
It was a long day.
You had a shift at the café this morning and then went straight to Uni where you dragged yourself through your classes of the day. It was already starting to get dark when you walked around campus to get to your bus station.
This was your routine on Wednesdays but something felt weird. There was a shiver creeping up your spine and you tightened your coat around yourself, hugging your waist, as a response to that feeling of unease.
“Hey! Girl!”
Your heart dropped at the shout and although it came from behind you, you just knew it was meant for you. Unconsciously you picked up your pace, hugging yourself tighter and scolding yourself for not getting pepper spray.
“Hey, you! I’m talking to you!”
You heard quick footsteps approaching you from behind and let out a gasp as rough fingers grabbed onto your wrist, turning you to the man with that gruff voice.
He was tall. His beard, grizzly and grossly outgrown, held a few drops of whatever might be in the bottle he held in his other hand. His clothes were lumpy and held stains, dark eyes pierced through you.
“I’m sure you’re so kind to give a man some money for cigarettes, little girl, huh?”
You stared at the man in front of you, frozen out of fear. Your heart plummeted in your chest and you felt the hand around your wrist tightening. You swallowed thickly but your throat still felt like sandpaper. You wanted to talk but nothing left your mouth.
“Well if I don’t get money you could always pay me differently,” He licked his lips and his eyes roamed over your body. He got hold of your other wrist and you suppressed a whimper.
You wanted to yell at him to let you go. You wanted to kick him where the sun wouldn’t shine. You wanted to scream for anybody to help you. But you couldn’t. You were frozen in place, your voice lost in your throat.
“Hey!”
Another voice.
“Let her go!”
You knew this voice. It was oddly familiar, but you couldn’t comprehend how you knew it.
There was a figure approaching in long, fast strikes and you wanted to go take a look but the man still standing in front of you grabbed you even tighter, which led to another gasp exiting your lips.
You heard your name called and looked in the direction of the newcomer.
Bucky.
It was Bucky.
Relief flooded your body and you finally were able to take a controlled intake of breath again.
“Do you know this guy?” Bucky's concerned gaze bored into you and you shook your head weakly.
That’s all he needed to turn to the guy still having a hold on your wrists. “You let her go right now!” The dangerously low and calm tone of his voice and the way he was talking to you way softer just seconds before let you shiver and caused your head to spin.
The other guy scoffed and let your wrists fall to take a step back, holding his arms up in a surrendering kind of way. Bucky immediately stepped in front of you. “Relax man, did nothing to that girl!”
“You better want to stay the hell away from her or anyone else. I don’t want to see you here again!” Bucky’s voice was laced with a dark, threatening tone, his stance unwavering as he shielded you from the menacing stranger. Despite the age difference, Bucky’s intimidation factor was undeniable.
Said man scoffed and stumbled away a little. Bucky kept watching him till he was out of sight and turned to you in an instant. Not sure if you were okay to be touched, his hands hovered over your arms as he leaned down to catch your eye, his concern evident in every gesture.
“Hey, Y/n, are you okay?”
Your gaze remained fixated on his collarbone, unable to meet his eyes. Absentmindedly, you rubbed the wrist of your right wrist, where the man had gripped you, feeling the tenderness and likely bruises forming there.
“Doll please look at me!” he pleaded, though you remained stoic, your emotions tightly locked away. His worry was palpable, evident in the furrow of his brows and the hesitant hover of his hands, unsure of how to comfort you.
“Eyes up here sweetheart, please!” His voice was softer than you’ve ever heard. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you lifted your head, allowing your gaze to trail up his face until your eyes met his. There was a hint of panic in his expression, his eyes searching yours with such urgency, that it was almost overwhelming. You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion reflected in his blue orbs.
“That’s it doll! Just like that!” He let out a breath of relief but never took his eyes off of you. He signaled to your wrists without breaking eye contact. “Can I take a look?”
You swallowed thickly, your throat tight with emotion, but you gave a slight nod, granting Bucky permission to inspect your wrists. Gently he took your right hand in his left, lifting your sleeve with the other to reveal the red and purple marks beneath. His touch was featherlight as he trailed his fingertips over your sensitive skin, but when you recoiled slightly, he pulled back immediately, murmuring an apology.
With your eyes trained on your wrist, you felt Bucky's finger under your chin to tilt your head up gently, coaxing you to look at him once more. “I’ve got you doll, okay? He’s gone. It’s alright!” he reassured you, a hint of fury underlying his voice as he recalled the man who caused you harm and left you in this state.
Taking a hesitant hold of your hand once again, Bucky brushed his thumb soothingly over the back, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you intently.
Despite your curt nod, you found yourself avoiding his gaze once more.
“I know it’s hard sweetheart but I really need you to say something. Need to make sure you’re okay. Can you do that for me?” Bucky’s voice was filled with gentleness, patience, and genuine concern, causing a lump to form in your throat.
Taking a deep breath, you mustered the strength to look at him again, your eyes glazed from the overwhelming emotions consuming you.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but Bucky heard you.
He squeezed your hand lightly and rubbed his other hand along your upper arm. “No need to thank me, sweetheart! I’m glad I was there!”
“Me too,” you found yourself saying, unable to hold back the gratitude flooding your heart. It was a miracle that Bucky showed up at the right moment, and you will forever be grateful for his intervention. The thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t been there sent a shiver down your spine.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he watched you with such fondness and adoration, your knees grew weak. You even managed to muster a small smile in return.
You took a deep, shuddering breath in, feeling the awkwardness settling in as you realized you had never been that close to Bucky before. Although you felt surprisingly grounded in his presence, you couldn’t shake the discomfort of the situation.
Releasing his hand, you rubbed your forehead, avoiding his gaze as you tried to find the right words. “Uhm...thank you, Bucky, really, but I think I’m just gonna…,” you trailed off, gesturing towards the bus stop in the near distance.
“Woah hold on now doll! I’m not gonna let you go home alone!” Bucky protested, shaking his head.
“It’s fine Barnes really! I’m just gonna call Wanda or Pietro. Surely one of them can come pick me up,” you didn’t really consider calling them but you’d feel bad for inconveniencing Bucky when he would be at his flat in a few minutes himself.
But Bucky was determined.
“No need to call them. I’ll drive you! Sam has a car and we’re just, like, two minutes away,” he pleaded, gaze so intense, almost forcing you to look away.
You sighed, feeling torn. “That’s really nice but I don’t wanna bother you furthermo-”
“Y/n you’re not bothering me! Never! Now please let me do this. Let me take you home,” he interrupted gently but firmly, his grip on your elbow a reassuring presence. You tried to conceal your lingering stress, but nothing could hide it from him.
“I-I can’t ask you to do that,” you murmured, your eyes shifting.
“I’m the one asking sweetheart. Please let me drive you home.” His eyes were hard to discern in the dim light, but the sincerity and concern in his voice were unmistakable.
With a sigh and a final look at the bus stop, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” you whispered.
A smile spread on Bucky's face and he gently turned the hand on your elbow to the small of your back to lead you to the flat house.
As you approached the building, you recognized it from the brief time you spent at the party. However, without the thumping bass, overpowering smell of alcohol, and chaotic atmosphere, the place appeared surprisingly cozy in the dim light
Never once leaving contact with your back he guided you to a room at the end of the hallway. He knocked on the door softly.
“Took your sweet time man-” a guy - Sam, you assumed him to be - standing in the doorframe, stopped talking upon noticing you. A slow smile curled upon his lips. “Can see why.”
“It’s not how it looks like,” Bucky hissed quickly, talking through his teeth. “Can I borrow your car?”
“Sure, man,” confirmed Sam, reaching for a key from a hook beside the door. “Don’t be too late for class tomorrow,” he added with a wink.
A lump formed in your throat as you grappled with your thoughts. It was natural to assume Bucky would have certain expectations given his reputation. After all, he was known for his past behavior of sleeping around. The transformation he seemingly went through couldn’t happen overnight, after all.
You found it hard to believe that Bucky would take advantage of your vulnerability, especially considering how he came to your rescue during the unsettling encounter just moments before. Yet, despite this reassurance, your mind continued to wrestle with uncertainty, plagued by lingering doubts and fears.
Bucky could feel you tense beside him and shot daggers at Sam even when said guy already disappeared behind the door.
As he walked you to Sam’s car, Bucky held the door open for you, guiding you inside with gentle reassurance. Determined not to leave you alone for too long, he rushed around the front of the car to take the driver’s seat.
During the drive, silence filled the car as you tried to calm your breathing, focusing on the passing scenery outside the window. Your efforts to quell your anxiety were hardly manageable, due to the bouncing of your leg and your trembling hands, fiddling with the fabric of your jacket.
Bucky discreetly stole glances at you as he drove, noticing your nervousness.
15 minutes of driving later, Bucky came to a halt in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled yourself and before you realized what was going on Bucky opened the door at your side. You didn’t even notice him getting out of the car.
Feeling weak in your knees you got out of the car. Bucky walked you to your door, hands held by his side in case you needed him and his presence offered you a sense of comfort. As you came to a halt in front of your door, you turned your body to him, trying to muster up a smile. You attempted to convey your gratitude although that unease still lingered in your bones.
“Thank you, Barnes! For everything!”
“No need to thank me, Y/n. I’m glad I could help. Will you be okay though?” His concern was genuine, struggling to leave your side.
He looked so hesitant to leave you, it would have been adorable in other circumstances. You felt guilty for entertaining the thought he would take advantage of your situation. You even believed he would be relieved if you asked him to stay with you. You had to admit, the comfort his presence gave you was easing your anxiety, though you couldn’t ask him to stay.
You conjured up a smile. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him, unlocking your door. Bucky stayed rooted on the spot, returning an unsure smile, looking torn. “I’m gonna be okay, really! Get home safe, Barnes.”
Bucky cleared his throat, evading his eyes for a moment and taking a reluctant step backward, but he remained turned to you. After exchanging a quick goodbye you disappeared behind your door.
Bucky watched you climb the stairs through the small window in the door, his gaze unwavering even as the hallway inside turned dark again. He remained rooted outside, his thoughts consumed by concern for your well-being.
Bucky couldn’t shake the desire to talk to you again, especially since that night at the party. He tried so hard to muster up the courage, never having a problem in that department before, but he was a nervous wreck. Now, in an unexpected turn of events he did get to talk to you again, however, he despised how it had unfolded. Seeing you struggle to hold back tears, desperately trying not to break down in front of him, pained him deeply. It hurt to witness your shock, pleading with you to snap out of your state.
The thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t returned, if he hadn’t forgotten his notebook, made him feel sick to his stomach. The mere idea of leaving you to face that situation alone was unbearable to him. Now leaving you alone so shaken felt inherently wrong in any sense, but he acknowledged he didn’t know you well enough to override your request that you would be fine. His instincts urged him to stay but he had to respect your words and your space.
Bucky seethed at the thought of Sam insinuating that he would use you in such a way. Sure, Sam didn’t know what happened to you and it wasn’t his fault Bucky had a reputation like that, but somehow it made him angry. You meant more to him than that. The mere suggestion of exploiting you for his own gain left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he silently vowed to prove Sam wrong by showing you the genuine depth of his feelings and intentions.
Girls constantly approached Bucky, attempting to touch him in the hallways or slipping their phone numbers into his locker, backpack, or books. Just the other day, a particularly bold girl even tried to write her number on his hand. Although she didn’t succeed, Bucky found himself standing in front of the sink for a while, scrubbing at his hand to erase any trace of her advances.
Bucky knew that he was viewed as nothing more than a means for physical pleasure. And he was okay with that, for an embarrassingly long time. The idea of being in a committed relationship and facing the responsibilities that came with it used to repulse him. His desires were simple - a brief encounter with no strings attached, followed by a swift departure, leaving no room for emotional entanglements. At a certain time, one smirk of a pretty girl was enough to jump into bed with her.
You were pretty too. Beautiful even. He acknowledged that day one. But never did he consider reducing you to a mere physical encounter. He noticed you in the hallways and felt intrigued, contemplating flirting with you just like he did with all the other girls. However, there was something different about you. He felt nervous around you, realizing that he cared about your opinion of him more than he cared to admit. He was strangely exhilarated at finding out you would share a class in second semester, trying to find a way to build some kind of connection with you.
That night, as you expressed your disinterest in frat parties, he felt the pull you had on him, without even knowing you well. The alcohol at the party suddenly tasted sour, the air felt stifling, the crowd too dense, the music too deafening, and the girls vying for his attention became an unwelcome intrusion. Their advances left him feeling an overwhelming sense of distress.
He found himself longing to leave his old reputation behind. He wanted something meaningful, something real, and the only person he could imagine it being with was you.
But right now?
Bucky’s heart sank as he got back to Sam’s car, feeling the strong urge to stay with you and ensure your safety. Sitting in front of the steering wheel and staring at your building, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be by your side.
You got stuck in your head after examining your bruised wrists and trying to cool down the swelling with an ice pack. Before your panic attack rendered you useless to do anything you managed to call Wanda and she talked you through it. You stayed on the phone with her until you fell asleep.
****
As you woke up, a familiar sense of unease settled over you, accompanied by trembling hands and a racing heart. The thought of facing another day filled with potential triggers made you hesitate. You did want to attend class, unfortunately though the looming threat of another panic attack weighed heavily on your mind. With a sigh, you made the decision to prioritize your well-being and called in sick, sending a text to Wanda to let her know.
As said girl joined you later, bearing notes and takeout, you found solace in her company on your small couch, eating and talking.
“So uhm,” Wanda began, seemingly nonchalant, but you knew her better than that, ears perking up. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you but after Science class, I met Bucky waiting outside the hall. He was looking for you.”
Your chewing slowed as you processed her words, eyebrows knitting together, looking at her.
“He came up to me, to ask where you were and if you were okay.”
You swallowed, a wave of panic surged within you. “You didn’t tell him-”
“No! No, of course not,” she interjected you hastily, words tumbling over each other in her haste to reassure you. “I just told him you weren’t feeling well and called in sick but I don’t think he really bought that.” Her smile was sympathetic.
Your appetite forgotten you let your fork clatter into the plastic container, your forehead finding its way to the backside of the couch with a groan of frustration.
Wanda’s light chuckle broke through your troubled thoughts. “He also asked me for your number,” she revealed, her tone surprisingly casual given the weight of her words.
“What?” Your head snapped up, eyes widening in disbelief.
“Didn’t give it to him, don’t worry, though I kinda felt bad for the guy. He looked miserable.” Her voice tinged with sympathy.
Taking a deep breath, you attempted to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Gratitude mingled with apprehension as you recalled Bucky’s unexpected kindness during yesterday’s ordeal. You remembered how his proximity seemed to ground you, warmth spreading through your body at the comfort he provided. You could still feel the lingering sensation of his hand on your back, even a day later. And yet, the intensity of those feelings scared you, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed walls you had built around your heart.
“Hey,” Wanda called out softly, her words carrying a gentle insistence. “He genuinely seemed worried. And I’m not trying to get you to befriend him or whatever but…he really is a nice guy, Y/n.”
Your gaze was fixed on Wanda, contemplation furrowing your brow.
“Listen, I don’t know what your problem is with Bucky, but-” she gave you a careful glance, “-if I’m being honest, I don’t think you know it either sweetie.”
Wanda’s words resonated with a truth you had been reluctant to acknowledge. Bucky’s genuine concern had managed to pierce through the barriers you had erected, leaving you grappling with conflicting emotions. Why did you hold onto this grudge so tightly? Was it merely a shield against vulnerability?
As you reflected on Bucky’s actions, a sense of clarity washed over you. There was truly no valid reason to hold onto the grudge you had harbored against him. He truly had consistently shown kindness and concern towards you.
Recalling the instances where he had gone out of his way to make you comfortable, a wave of gratitude washed over you. From saving you a seat in class to rescuing you from a precarious situation with a homeless man to checking in on your well-being through Wanda, Bucky had proven himself to be a decent and caring person.
With a newfound perspective, you realized that perhaps it was time to give him a change.
****
The bus was late, as usual. Today, though, you couldn’t summon the energy to care. Your mind was still swirling with thoughts, and fatigue weighed heavily on you.
Wanda saved you a seat in class, checking in on you again and although you felt way better than yesterday, you couldn’t concentrate. The voice of your professor was merely a blurred murmur in the back of your mind.
With some time to kill before your next class, you and Wanda decided to grab a coffee. However, you barely made it out of your lecture hall before hearing your name called.
Heaving a sigh, you turned around and came face to face with an approaching Bucky.
He came to a halt, looking a little sheepish now that he was standing in front of you. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, and his hair a little disheveled, he cleared his throat, seemingly unsure of where to begin.
“I’ll head out already, Y/n. Take your time.” Wanda spoke up, giving you a quick hug before passing by Bucky and throwing you a wink over her shoulder.
Bucky cleared his throat again, shuffling on his feet a little before meeting your eyes. “So, uhm, are you okay?”
A soft smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, touched by his concern. “I’m fine,” you assured him, fidgeting with your fingers. “Thank you, again!” You added quietly.
He waved away your gratitude with a casual gesture. “No need to thank me doll. I’m glad I could help.”
He smiled softly, biting his lip, though there was a hint of something more in his expression. Sensing he still had something on his mind, trying to figure out how to say it, you remained silent.
“Listen, uh...,” he began, clenching his jaw and avoiding eye contact. “I wanted to apologize for…well for being pushy about the parties and all. Shouldn’t have bothered you like that.”
You blinked, taken aback by his unexpected apology. “Oh, uhm…it’s okay Barnes, really.”
He shook his head, letting out a breath. “Nah, it’s not. This isn’t your scene, should have respected that.” He opened his mouth again but closed it right after, swallowing.
“Don’t worry about it Barnes, it’s alright, seriously.” A tinge of disappointment lingered within you. The realization hit you, that without his invitations to parties, he might not seek you out as often. He only ever did, when asking you to come to his parties. So it would mean he might not annoyingly interrupt you in class, or approach you on campus anymore. You scolded yourself for feeling that way but you somehow didn’t want to lose that.
Needing to take hold of your thoughts, you wanted to get away from here. Your lips curled in a smile. “Alright, uhm, Wanda’s probably waiting for me so-” You were about to turn away but Bucky called your name again.
“Hey, uh-” he seemed nervous, his voice wavering slightly and he cleared his throat, a hand coming up to run through his hair. “You could always come to me - I mean, the frat - when you’re here late. I can always drive you again. Make sure you get home safe.”
He felt bad for bringing up the topic again, but he wanted you to know that he genuinely cared and would feel better if you reached out to him. He would gladly drive you home again, hoping you’d consider taking him up on his offer.
Surprised once more, you blinked at him, processing his offer. You mustered up a smile. “That’s nice, really Barnes, but I think I’ll be okay.”
“Alright, well, just know that I’ll be there if you change your mind,” Bucky replied, his tone sincere, expression soft.
You smiled again, nodded, and bid him goodbye.
Reflecting on the interaction, you couldn’t help but agree with Wanda. Bucky Barnes was a decent guy, held back by his reputation.
****
Sunlight streamed through the windows of the library, casting warm beams that danced upon the wooden tables and bookshelves. It was a stark contrast to the earlier rain, which had cloaked the world outside in a shroud of grey.
The faint whispers of fellow students, the gentle rustle of pages, and the occasional creak of wooden chairs created a soothing ambiance while you browsed through your textbook.
A groan from beside you, however, interrupted that. You lifted your head, diverting your attention to your friend sitting beside you.
“Why is all the information so scattered? Can’t find shit for this stupid paper.” Wanda exclaimed, her brow furrowed in frustration as she stared at her laptop screen.
As you chuckled and leaned in to help Wanda navigate through the vast sea of information on the internet, a sudden gust of wind sent a shiver down your spine, causing you to instinctively turn your head towards the entrance of the library. In walked Bucky, accompanied by the familiar figure of Sam. You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting to be caught staring.
In the two weeks since your conversation, there had been a palpable change in the air whenever Bucky and you crossed paths. And that was a lot. You haven’t necessarily exchanged words but you grew more enthusiastic when seeing him, sending a smile his way, which he reciprocated immediately.
You were sitting in a café last week, nursing a latte, while having light conversation with Wanda and Pietro, as you recognized Bucky standing at the counter. Without thinking you lifted your hand and waved at him when he looked in your direction. His face lit up, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he smiled and eagerly waved back. He seemed to contemplate walking over to you, your hopes rising for a second, but his name called by the barista snapped his head away from you. After getting his coffee he sent another smile your way but left the café. Wanda and Pietro wasted no time in teasing you mercilessly after he was out of sight. The blush on your cheeks evidence of your embarrassment.
“God, this is getting ridiculous,” Wanda scoffed, amusement lacing her features. You turned to her, a hint of confusion littering your features, oblivious to what she was referring to. She nodded subtly to the side, her attention still fixed on her laptop screen. Following her nod, you spotted Bucky and Sam standing in the near distance, both seemingly focused in your direction.
Sam's face lit up with a mischievous grin and he started walking toward you girls, clapping Bucky on the back. Bucky looked visibly distressed, running a hand through his hair, before following behind.
Sam took a seat in front of Wanda and you, his toothy smile lighting up his face. “Ladies,” he acknowledged playfully.
Wanda laughed, continuing to type on her laptop. “What do you want Wilson?” she asked teasingly.
Sam leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “Just wanted to say hi,” he replied casually, shrugging his shoulders.
Meanwhile, Bucky took a seat next to Sam, looking a little awkward. He shuffled a little, leaning his elbows onto the table.
“Well hi, then,” Wanda said, finally looking up.
As Sam and Wanda dove into a discussion about their research papers, exchanging ideas and sharing insights, Bucky and you found yourselves stealing glances at each other.
There was a warmth in Bucky’s eyes, a softness you still were trying to get accustomed to. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, you didn’t even try to suppress.
Bucky cleared his throat, looking solely at you. “What’s your paper about?” he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with curiosity.
You smiled, grateful for the new opportunity to engage him in conversation. “I’m researching the impact of technology on interpersonal relationships,” you replied, the initial awkwardness fading away.
Bucky nodded, his interest piqued. With that you delved into a light conversation, discussing your topic in more detail, diving into the various aspects you were exploring and the questions you hoped to answer. Bucky’s gaze never wavered, his attention fully captivated by your words. You noticed that whenever you tried to turn the conversation back to him, Bucky seemed more interested in talking about you.
As the conversation between Bucky and you flowed effortlessly, you found yourselves delving into deeper topics. Bucky’s genuine curiosity about you as a person was evident, and you felt a surge of warmth spreading throughout your body at his interest in getting to know you better. He asked about your hobbies, your favorite books, your dreams for the future - anything and everything he could think of to get to know you better. A spark elicited in Bucky’s eyes at some point, as if he found something in your words that resonated with him on a deeper level.
It felt like you talked to Bucky for hours though it couldn’t have been more than half an hour. The presence of Wanda and Sam had long faded into the background, as Bucky and you connected. To your disappointment, Sam and Bucky had another class and bid you girls goodbye, wishing you good luck with your papers furthermore.
Wanda held her mouth after they left but the knowing smirk in her glance spoke volumes.
****
Weeks passed in a blissful blur. Your encounters with Bucky on campus evolved into something more than just brief exchanges. Conversations became the norm, each one stretching longer than the last, until you found yourself losing track of time altogether, arriving late to class oftentimes. Whenever your schedules allowed it, Wanda and you would meet up with Bucky and Sam to grab some coffee.
The soft smiles filled with adoration that Bucky sent your way didn’t go unnoticed, even when he thought you weren’t looking. You also noticed the little gestures, the quick hugs, he never seemed to pull away from fist, the hover of his hand over your back when walking around campus with you. He pulled you closer to his side a few days ago, his hand gently gripping the sleeve of your jacket as you navigated through the crowded hallway. Your heart skipped a beat at that.
And then there were moments when he seemed on the verge of saying something before parting ways, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak his mind, but then thinking better of it and closing his mouth with a clear of his throat and a hand running through his brown locks. His former cockiness seemed to have given way to a newfound shyness. He was holding back, afraid to cross some invisible line but you didn’t know how to approach him on that.
You also didn’t know if you eventually could cross a line at this moment. Darkness enveloped the campus, casting eerie shadows that danced in the dim light of the flickering lampposts. Wanda and Pietro were out of town and you decided to stay a little longer and finish up your notes. A bad move on your part.
The once bustling grounds now lay deserted, devoid of the usual throngs of students. A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at you with every step. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind or the distant hum of a passing car. Every shadow seemed to hold a hidden threat, every rustle of the wind a whisper of danger.
You were thinking about the offer Bucky had made you a few weeks ago to go by his flat and let him drive you home again. You considered going to him but although he had made you that offer you didn’t want to inconvenience him. And just walking to his flat and asking him to drive you home? It seemed weird. But as your anxiety intensified and your hands started to tremble, you found yourself walking towards his flat on autopilot. The memory of your previous panic attack loomed large in your mind, threatening to engulf you once again.
There was a guy standing in the doorway with a cigarette in hand. You were approaching cautiously, not sure if this was a good idea.
“Hey, you lost?”
The sound of the stranger’s voice jolted you out of your anxious reverie, pulling you back to the present, momentarily breaking the spell of fear that had gripped you.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you responded. “Uhm, actually I wanted...to Bucky.” Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the uncertainty that still lingered within you.
The stranger raised an eyebrow, eyeing you curiously as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Huh,” he muttered, looking you up and down. “Guy hasn’t had a girl over in weeks.”
You cleared your throat, too caught up in your own anxious thoughts to care about the stranger’s assumptions.
“Well, is he here?”
He nodded, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “Up the stairs, last door to the left,” he replied, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the staircase.
With a weak “thank you” you stepped past him and walked up the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest.
You stood in front of his door, staring at it long enough to notice the cracks in the woods, marring it’s surface, splinters standing out. Your lip was held in a death grip, teeth biting down on it. With a hesitant breath, you finally mustered up the courage to give the door a soft knock, the sound echoing faintly in the empty hallway. As you withdrew your hand you hid the shakiness in the folds of your sleeves.
There was a groan on the other side of the door, as response to your knock. A lump burned in your throat and you played with the thought to just bold out of that house again when you heard the doorknob turning.
“Sam, come on man-” Bucky stopped talking abruptly upon seeing you. His eyes grew wide, eyebrows shooting up, surprise clear as day upon his face.
“Y/n? I-Wow, uh, I didn’t expect you here,” Bucky stammered, shuffling on his feet with his hand running through his disheveled hair in a futile attempt to compose himself. If your mind wouldn’t have been occupied with other things right now you would have found him adorable with his crinkled shirt loosely hugging his frame and hanging over some dark sweatpants, his unruly hair and flushed cheeks. But all you could do was swallow that burning sensation in your throat.
“Uhm,” you choked out, looking at you feet. “I-I’m sorry for bothering you, I just…I didn’t-”
“Hey, hey, doll, it’s alright,” he met you in the hallway, a hand coming up to your upper arm in a sense of urgency. He hooked his finger under your chin to lift your head. You met his eyes, your heart leaving your chest altogether. His face was twisted in worry, brows furrowed deeply, eyes so focused on you, the intensity of it washed over you like a wave. Your breaths still came in too elated, heart beating erratically. “Take some deep breaths for me sweetheart, follow my lead, come on.” He urged you softly.
With Bucky’s guidance, you focused on your breathing, drawing in slow, steady inhalations and exhaling the tension that had taken hold of your body. His thumb continued to trace soothing circles on his skin. As you followed Bucky’s lead, the erratic beat of your heart gradually slowed to a more steady rhythm.
“Atta girl, that’s it!” he whispered, rubbing his other hand up and down your arm. He nodded at you to keep breathing, eyes so intense it was the only thing you could focus on.
Standing directly in front of you and focusing on your eyes, he let your chin up to gently grab your other arm. “You wanna tell me what happened?” His low and gentle tone soothing you.
You took a deep breath, feeling ridiculous out of a sudden to stand here and burden him. “I-My bus didn’t come and-and I don’t know, I got scared I guess and…God I’m sorry Bucky I shouldn’t have come I-”
“Hold on a sec doll,” he interjected, brows pulled together further, concern dripping from his words. “You stayed on campus until now?” A confirming but weak nod of you let Bucky heave a breath. “There’s no need to apologize, sweetheart, I told you you could come, didn’t I? And god help me, I’m glad you did.”
He looked pained to some extent, but mustered up a warm smile. You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes still shifting with uncertainty and your hands were still secured in your sleeves, the nagging thought that you were burdening him still lingering at the back of your mind. Your tense posture didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky and he pulled you in his embrace, engulfing you in a warm hug. He never hugged you like that before but with the way his arms around you tightened and he leaned his head against yours, he supposedly wanted to.
As Bucky held you close, his warm breath tickling your ear and sending shivers down your spine, he whispered words of comfort and reassurance that washed over you like a gentle breeze. You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, all you could do was melt into his embrace and let the soothing cadence of his voice and the tenderness in his touch ease the knots of anxiety that had gripped your chest.
Bucky withdrew slightly to look at you again, his gaze filled with affection and tenderness. “You want me to drive you home, doll?” he whispered, maintaining the close proximity you two harbored.
As you pondered his question, conflicted emotions swirled within you. Initially, you had sought Bucky out precisely for this reason - to ask for a ride home. But now, something had shifted. The idea of being dropped off alone at home felt less appealing. Wanda and Pietro were likely unavailable, and you hesitated to inconvenience anyone else. Yet, the thought of being alone right now was equally unsettling.
Sensing your hesitation, Bucky gently lifted your head again with his finger under your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. There was a soft smile you came face to face with. “Sam’s not here for tonight…Do you wanna stay? It’s just us.”
The offer was tempting, but you couldn’t shake the worry of being a bother. “That’s nice Bucky, but I-I don’t want to intrude,” you murmured, matching his quiet tone.
“You’d never intrude, sweetheart! Don’t ever worry about that, alright?” His hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you into his room.
You settled on his bed as he led you there and couldn’t help but steal a glance around the room. It was surprisingly tidy, save for a small pile of clothes scattered on the floor. Overall, the atmosphere felt organized and put together. Your eyes drifted to his desk - again, neatly arranged - where a framed picture caught your attention. In it was a clearly younger Bucky, with chubby cheeks and a toothy grin. Standing behind him was a man who bore a striking resemblance to him, his father you guessed. A woman was beside him, dark hair in a bun atop her head and a radiant smile, presumably his mother. Cradled in the woman’s arms was a little girl, short brunette hair a little disheveled, and with a pacifier in her mouth but a joyful grin on her face.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you took in the sight of his family. While Bucky had mentioned having a sister during your conversation in the library a few weeks ago, he had never shown you pictures before.
Bucky entered your field of vision, settling down beside you with a glass of water in hand. He held it out to you and you thanked him gratefully, taking a sip.
You felt Bucky shifting beside you, wiping his hands on his sweatpants, betraying his nervousness. “Do you-” His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat, starting again, “Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Can I get you something?”
You huffed out a laugh, throwing him a grateful smile. “I’m good, Bucky, thank you!”
A hesitant hand came to rest on your knee. “You let me know if there’s something, alright?”
“Will do, Buck!”
He gave you a look. “I mean it, doll!”
You chuckled, being surprised by how easily Bucky managed to ground you, getting you out of your nervous spiraling. “I know, Barnes.”
Bucky watched you, own lips curled in a soft smile. You returned his gaze, warmth spreading through you at the sparkle in his eyes. His hand remained secure on your knee, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your jeans, a gesture that made you yearn for his touch on your skin instead. The amount of adoration twinkling in his gaze made you weak. Seconds ticked by and you still were looking at each other. There was something in his blue speckles that couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere else. A magnetic pull you were drawn to, holding you captive. You noticed his blues flicker down to your lips for a brief moment, and in response, your own eyes permitted themselves to wander to his. The movement of his thumb stilled on your leg, his hand laying flat and you could feel him leaning in.
Bucky often found himself lost in thoughts about kissing you. When the urge washed over him he imagined leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. But he had always held back, hesitant to take that final step without knowing if you wanted it too.
One time, when you two were walking together through campus, the wind was relentless, whipping your hair around your face as you tried in vain to tame it. Despite your efforts though, the wind was hard to go against and after the fifth failed attempt at trying to tame your hair, you started laughing, Bucky joining in. As he watched you, your hair obscuring your view, he couldn’t help the warmth swelling in his heart, the fondness that made his smile ache in his cheeks at the sight of your laughter. He found himself wishing to pull you close, to gently brush the strands of hair away from your face, and to kiss you with all the pent-up longing he felt. In that moment, all he wanted was to express the depth of his feelings for you in a kiss that would leave you breathless.
He often daydreamed about kissing you in the library. Surrounded by the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows, you sat immersed in your studies, your face illuminated by the gentle light. You looked so beautiful, all he could do was admire you. If only you had lifted your head from your notebook, you would have seen the adoring smile that graced his lips. He longed to express his affection for you in the form of a tender kiss, holding you close and sharing a moment of intimacy amidst the quiet serenity of the library. But he couldn’t do that, so he took the chance and admired you from afar.
But the one time he almost really did it was the time you called him ‘Bucky’ for the first time.
You sit in your usual café, nursing a large cup of coffee, the rich aroma wafting up to greet you with each sip. Bucky is seated in front of you, idly fiddling with the sugar packages stored in a box on the table. Your notebook lies open in front of you, pages filled with scribbled notes from your recent class.
After class, Bucky had caught up with you, asking what you were up to. You had mentioned grabbing a coffee and finishing up some notes, and he had decided to tag along. However, as you now sit together in the cozy café, it seems Bucky isn’t entirely pleased with the lack of attention you’re giving him, his relentlessness evident as he fidgets with the sugar packets in front of him.
He grumpily rearranges the sugar packages for the fourth time, his irritation palpable as you remain engrossed in your writing. You hear the crinkle of a sugar packet being opened.
“I don’t need any more sugar in my coffee, Barnes,” you warn him teasingly, without lifting your head from your notebook.
“Everyone needs a little sweetness in their life, doll!” he retorts with a knowing grin, tossing you a wink as you glance back at him. With a mischievous smirk, he lets the sugar cascade into your cup.
“Whatever you say,” you reply with a laugh in your breath, shaking your head in amusement before returning your focus to your notes.
You hear him open another package and let out a sigh. “You better not do that,” you warn again, eyes not lifting.
Another rip of a sugar packet catches your attention, and you perk up to see Bucky holding both open packages over your cup, letting the sugar pour in.
“Bucky!” you exclaim, the volume of your voice drawing glances from other café patrons, but you’re too focused on the playful banter to acknowledge them. “God, I can’t believe you did that,” you groan, pulling your cup closer to your side, in mock exasperation.
As your gaze locks with his, you’re prepared to scold him further but the look on his face catches you off guard. His eyes are wide, mouth agape, morphing into a beaming smile, white teeth on display.
Your eyebrows shoot up in confusion. “What?”
“Thought I’d never get to hear you say it, doll,” Bucky laughs out, eyes sparking.
“What did I say?” you ask, puzzled by his reaction.
He leans forward, elbows resting on the table while his eyes remain fixed on you. That beaming smile is still plastered on his face, and his blue orbs seem to glow with amusement, sparking brighter than usual.
“You called me Bucky,” he points out, his voice tings with delight.
You took a deep breath in, regretting your slip-up. “Shit, I guess I did.”
Bucky now crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the back of his seat. He doesn’t seem able to stop the smile on his face. “If all it took was to annoy you then Imma keep doing that from now on,” he declared with a playful glint in his eyes.
Head in your hands you let out a groan. Bucky barks out a laugh in front of you and you reluctantly lift your head to look at him. You point a finger at him. “I’ll keep calling you Bucky, if you stop being annoying!” you propose, trying to stay serious but not being able to stop the corners of your mouth from lifting.
“Can’t say no to that,” Bucky conceded, smile growing fond, affection radiating from him in waves.
He never stopped annoying you but you kept calling him Bucky.
But now, as he sat in front of you, his hand resting on your leg, Bucky felt the familiar urge resurface. You were in his room, smiling at him, looking so beautiful, it took his breath away. Yet, despite the overwhelming desire, he knew he would never take that final step without your explicit consent, considering the circumstances you were here right now. Your state earlier left him uneasy and a nagging guilt was gnawing within him, thinking about that night he had driven you home and then left you alone that shaken. So he needed you to want this, to be sure you were okay. He felt sick at the thought of taking advantage of you in any way.
Thus, he did lean in but didn’t go further than a few inches, giving you the opportunity to make the next move or the space to show him you weren’t ready for that.
Your eyes darted to his lips once more, leaning in yourself. Your foreheads touched after some moments, noses brushing and you saw Bucky’s eyes flutter close, still not moving further. You took a few seconds before closing the gap and pressing your lips to his. Bucky let out a breath through his nose, slowly moving his lips in sync with yours. Again, he let you lead the kiss. His other hand made his way up to your face, the gentle touch of his fingertips brushing over your skin before tenderly cradling your cheek.
Eventually, you pulled away, opening your eyes but staying close to his face. Your hazy smile mirrored his, and he pulled your head back slowly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before looking back at you, fondness clear on his features. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his fingers still caressing your cheek as his intense eyes locked on yours.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you held his gaze. “Yeah.”
After a few tender moments of loving touches and whispered assurances, Bucky handed you a change of clothes and let you use the bathroom.
Emerging from the bathroom, you were now dressed in a pair of his black shorts and a shirt, the fabric enveloping you in Bucky’s comforting scent. It made your stomach do flips, feeling at ease. A soft smile graced your lips as you took in the familiar aroma.
“I got another blanket, in case you got cold…,” he trailed off as he caught sight of you. His eyes swept up and down your figure, admiring how his clothes draped over your form. Though you couldn’t quite read his expression, the slight blush coloring his cheeks was enough to make you smile sheepishly in response. Bucky cleared his throat - he did that a lot around you - and turned away a little, composing himself.
There wasn’t much space in his bed you recognized as you settled in, but somehow you didn’t mind that much. Bucky sat down on the bed, looking troubled.
“Buck? Something wrong?”
Bucky took a breath, shaking his head slightly. “No,” he breathed out, an inner turmoil in his eyes, “I just…I can sleep in Sams’ bed. Maybe tha-”
“Hey,” you interrupted him softly, “I don’t mind Bucky, really! We can share.” He didn’t look convinced so you sat up straighter and heaved a breath, trying again. “And it would make me feel better,” you admitted quietly.
That did him in, breathing out a sigh and settling in beside you. Though he relented, he still was tense beside you, his muscles stiff. His shoulders were touching yours, so he felt you starting to shiver a little. His head snapped to you in an instant.
“Are you cold? Let me get another blan-” Bucky began, already halfway off the bed before you interrupted him once more.
“Hold on! I…uhm,” you hesitated, searching for the right words to express your request, “Could you maybe…cuddle me?” You fiddled with your fingers, a little nervous about how he would react.
To your relief, you heard him shuffle towards you, and soon you felt his arm wrapping around you. You smiled and turned, positioning your back against his chest. His other arm moved hesitantly under your pillow, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. With Bucky’s presence surrounding you, you felt a sense of security wash over you, easing any lingering nerves.
“Like that?” he breathed in your hair, a whisper so full of emotion.
“Yeah,” you breathed back, a sense of gratitude washing over you, “Thank you!” It wasn’t just a thank you for holding you in that moment; it was a thank you for everything he had done for you. It was a thank you for pulling you out of your anxiety - for saving you from a panic attack you surely would have endured if it wasn’t for him. It was a thank you for him offering his comfort and support in so many ways. And it was a thank you for inviting you to his many parties because although you never really went, it was the foundation of your current relationship.
And he knew. He knew the depth of your gratitude, the depth of your feelings. Because he had learned to read and understand you. Because he had learned to love you. And he would tell you when he thought you were ready to hear it. For now, all he could do was hold you close, squeeze you just a little tighter, and silently convey his unwavering support and profound affection.
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museenkuss · 1 month
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April || ballet lessons, a new haircut, one day trips to art exhibitions, bottles of green-blossoming perfume, fresh baguette, a new night routine, rearranging the bookshelves, white tea with rose petals, opening the window to let the scent of spring into the room, annotated essays, movie nights for one. blooming in peaceful solitude.
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mariahcarreyyy · 2 months
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congratulations on 2k!! deserved 💌
how about charles being an ABSOLUTE cat dad like reader has a cat and once he gets introduced to it they become inseparable
# i'm very much a cat person this was so cute to write. i imagined this early on in the relationship but dream as u will!
mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post
When jealousy took form and blossomed in a person's wretched heart, it did so in two branches: rational and irrational. The glint coloring your eyes in an ugly green after witnessing Charles enter your flat for the first time, automatically gasping and fawning over the white ball of fur idly strolling past the hallway, was certainly the latter of the two.
A gentle, startled sort of coo slipped past your newly minted boyfriend's lips. "A cat! Oh," his dimples form in slopes on his plump cheeks, his eyes creasing in a giddy smile as he drops his belongings and rushes to craddle the kitten in his arms. "I didn't know you—aww, bebé, qu'il est mignon!"
The otherwise quiet hallway was filled with the fondness of Charles' voice and soft, satisfied purrs reverberating in the kitten's throat (who looks comically small in his bulging biceps, by the way). Past the lingering envy and sudden urge to morph into a cat and have Charles hold you carefully, you can't help but grin at the sight.
Charles neck must hurt from looking down sideways and murmuring sweet nothings to the cat as if it were a baby. Or it didn't, very possibly, seeing as you've walked into one too many workout sessions of him training his neck. You allowed him to topple closer to the edge of a cuteness overload before the fatigue piling in your waterline proved too heavy to bear.
Kick off uncomfortable heels; Charles giggled when the ball of fur nuzzled its tiny, pink nose into his neck.
Shrug the jacket onto the floor; Charles dips down to rub the button of his nose against the kittens.
Hang it on the coat rack; Charles melts into an incoherent puddle on the floor when your pet reciprocates his movements.
Pad against marble floors, rubbing your eyes sleepily and shutting the door of your bedroom halfway once you get there; Charles lets out a distant, "Y/n? Mon amour? Where'd you go?" from the hallway.
A smile, your heart appreciating your boyfriend shifting his attention from the cat, threatens to crack at your lips until—
"Oh, mon dieu! He's rolling on the ground. Y/n! Y/n, viens! Viens, come see!"
You throw your hands up exasperatedly despite your solitude, hastily take off your makeup, and nestle into the coldness of your generously sized bed; Charles will come later, but not alone. The warmth radiating off the tiny ball of fur is easily noticeable, squished between two frames and contrasting heavily with your boyfriend's presence.
"I love you," the monagesque murmurs; and then, after a few beats of silence, before you were to open your mouth and echoe his words, he says, "You too, Y/n."
As his cackles bounce off the walls of your bedroom, only growing louder and intensifying when he receives a harsh slap on his shoulder, you find yourself joining in the laughter, unable to resist.
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osachiyo · 3 months
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𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖈 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗 · dazai, chuuya & fyodor .ೃ࿐
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· 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𐙚 none, gn reader, sfw content, fluff, petnames, headcanons + little scenarios, not proofread
· 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 𐙚 sorry these are really short, im just trying to clear out as many requests as i can for now :') i was gonna add sigma n fukuzawa too but i wanted to get it out asap so i can work on my other wips. also ! i might focus a little more on fluff for the time being :) happy reading and hope you guys enjoyed !
𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘... just some cute scenarios with some of the bsd men ᡣ𐭩
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dazai.. was an interesting man. he never got flustered no matter how much you flirted with him, not even blushing when you did provocative actions like sitting on his lap, or whispering dirty words into his ear.
instead, he somehow counters your lines with his own — leaving you the one flustered.
but when you give him genuine compliments, or do something nice for him genuinely from the goodness of your heart, the same man who's seemingly unaffected by your advances, somehow turns into putty — melting in the clutch of your warm grasp.
in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bedroom, you hummed sweet words against dazai's dark locks, your lips finding solace on the crown of his head. "you're so pretty," you whispered, a genuine compliment that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of his rough day.
"darling, not as pretty as you," he chuckled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your chest. the day had taken its toll on him, a tough mission leaving him with more than a fair share of injuries. but those details could wait for another time.
for dazai, these moments were treasures. lying in your arms or having you nestled in his, the simple pleasure of each other's company became a haven. the absence of distractions allowed him to savor the rare peace he found with you, a feeling that almost made him giddy.
your words, genuine and warm, were like a balm for his weary soul. in these moments, he set aside his usual snarky quips and jokes, content to bask in the embrace and scent that spoke of comfort and home. the sincerity in your praise quickened his heartbeat, and for once, dazai didn't need to hide behind humor.
though his face was hidden from your view, dazai couldn't conceal the flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. it was a secret shared only with the solitude of your embrace — a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and affection that blossomed in these stolen moments of peace.
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considering chuuya's job, you two don't get to spend too much time together. but you had already known and accepted that when you started dating him.
though, when you two do get to spend some quality time together — it's all worth it. he makes sure to spoil you with his affection and attention when he has the chance — making up for all the time he's neglected you.
and after a whole day of getting spoiled by him — visiting fancy and expensive places, tasting amazing food, drinking the finest wine, you finally get to relax at home with your favorite person.
"quit scrunching that handsome face, babe," you sighed, smoothing the furrowed lines of his brows with your thumbs, delicately working the cleanser into his skin. chuuya simply hummed, surrendering to the soothing sensation and leaning into your touch.
"and what's the deal with this?" he asked, his arms enveloping your waist — right where they belonged. "it's just cleanser, does what it says — cleans your skin." chuuya hummed again, drawing small circles on your hips, "just make sure it stays out of my eyes, okay?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap for better comfort, "obviously."
after rinsing off the cleanser and following through with the skincare routine you'd picked, chuuya stared at his reflection in the mirror — bunny headband adorning his head, bangs swept back and away from his face, which now felt surprisingly soft. "holy shit, my face feels so...smooth?" he blinked, gently squishing his own cheeks. you approached from behind, planting a tender kiss on his neck — "i did tell you my skincare routine works wonders."
"heh, yeah," he chuckled, turning to face you, playfully squishing your cheeks together before planting a soft kiss on your lips, "now it's your turn, love. your skin deserves some of that magic too."
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fyodor was a busy man, you always catch him in that dimly lit room — typing away while staring at his monitors. with all the plotting, scheming and hacking — he never really has any time left to take real care of himself.
and that's exactly what you're here for — dragging him out of the dingy room, not paying any attention to his complaints or threats, you know he doesn't mean them.
taking off his ushanka, you wonder how much time had it actually been since he's properly washed his hair — but you didn't ask him that, knowing he'd be even more irritated.
fyodor's complaints ceased once you proposed a shared bath, both of you disrobing before slipping into the warm water. the temperature, meticulously adjusted to his liking, showcased your thoughtful consideration. though the usual positions were reversed, with him against your chest, it was necessary for you to tend to his hair.
"right there, love," fedya sighed in content, tilting his head back and savoring your touch. your fingers massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp. "feel good, huh?" you smiled, placing sweet kisses on the pale skin of his exposed neck before gently rinsing away the shampoo from his raven locks.
these tranquil moments held a special place in his heart. simple yet profound, they kindled a warmth within him. your loving gaze had the power to thaw even his typically cold heart. in those tender glances, he found a promise to himself — to craft the perfect world for both of you.
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©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia
@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch
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shebunie · 5 months
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HIIIIII! could you do a mizu x reader when reader teases mizu so much that mizu snaps and erm...things get suggestive or just plain smut IDK 🙏🏽
𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭
𝗠𝗶𝘇𝘂 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟭𝟴+, 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗿! 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳-𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟮.𝟲𝗸 𝐀/𝐍: 𝗛𝗶 <𝟯, 𝗮𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗵𝘂, 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘇𝘂, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱! 𝗠𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗜 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳. 𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗬 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝟮!
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"I don’t want company." 
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the tranquil landscape. Mizu, the stoic yet skilled samurai, sat beneath a cherry blossom tree, taking a moment of relaxation from her travels. Her sword rested beside her, reflecting the fading sunlight. However, her solitude was soon interrupted by your arrival.
You, an adventurous and cheeky soul, approached her with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I couldn't resist the allure of a lone samurai beneath the cherry blossoms," you declared, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
“What's gotten you so grumpy?” 
Mizu's piercing gaze met yours, her expression unwavering. "I said, I don’t want company," she replied, a hint of irritation in her tone.
Undeterred, you plopped down beside her, ignoring her warning. "Oh, come on, Mizu! Even a samurai needs a break. Plus, it's a crime to waste such a beautiful evening in solitude," you teased, leaning closer to her.
She sighed, realizing that you were not easily deterred. "I value my solitude. It sharpens my focus and keeps me attuned to the world around me," Mizu explained, attempting to maintain her composure.
You chuckled, tracing patterns on the grass with your fingers. "I get that, I do. But even the mighty Mizu needs a break from being a stone-cold warrior sometimes. Don't you ever get tired of all that serious stuff?"
Mizu's stoic facade cracked ever so slightly as she shot you a sideways glance. "I don't get tired. I endure," she retorted.
Your grin widened, clearly enjoying her reactions. "Endure, huh? Well, how about enduring some good company for a change? It might be just what you need."
A subtle tension hung in the air as Mizu's patience wore thin. "I've endured many challenges and adversaries. Dealing with you might be the most formidable one yet," she remarked, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.
A hand to your mouth, feigning shock enveloped your features, “Of course, you seem to be the only one who can handle it anyway.” 
Each remark a playful jab, and each counter a carefully calculated response. The verbal sparring evolved into a dance of wit and charm. Mizu found herself caught in the web of your playful teasing, her steely resolve slowly giving way to the unexpected allure of your company.
As the moon began to rise, casting a silvery glow on the landscape, you decided to up the ante. "You know, Mizu, beneath that tough exterior, I bet there's a samurai with a heart that longs for a little excitement," you mused, a sly grin playing on your lips.
Mizu raised an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and defiance in her gaze. "I have no interest in power or money. I have no interest in being happy. Only satisfied." 
“And what if I told you that a bit of someone, might just be the key to satisfaction?”
You leaned in, your voice a soft whisper against the gentle rustling of the cherry blossoms as you lifted a finger to trace along the jaw of the wielder. The strand of her hair followed the breeze, your eyes traced along the bridge of her nose, down to her upturned lips. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Looking at you.” you voiced, Mizu couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of discomfort and curiosity. Your presence, initially an unwelcome intrusion, now presented a challenge that intrigued her. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, trying to maintain her composure.
"I prefer to be unseen," Mizu remarked, her tone stern, but a glimmer of uncertainty lingered in her eyes.
You chuckled softly, the mischievous glint in your eyes undiminished. "But you look so pretty like this. Do I make you nervous?”
Mizu, unaccustomed to such flattery, found herself at a loss for words. The air around you two was charged with a newfound tension, a delicate balance between the solitude she sought and the unexpected charm you brought. The cherry blossoms overhead seemed to sway in approval, as if nature itself acknowledged the subtle shift in the atmosphere.
Your soft fingers that lingered on her face, held her chin and gently turned her gaze to you. The moon illuminated the scene, casting shadows that played on your features, giving you an almost ethereal quality.
For a moment, Mizu's stoic exterior wavered. She glanced away, the touch of your finger on her skin tingled, breaking eye contact, and the moonlight revealed a hint of vulnerability. "Empty flattery won't change my resolve," she declared, her voice a mixture of defiance and self-assurance.
But you were undeterred, your playful demeanour persisting. "Who said anything about changing your resolve? I just thought you could use a break from it every now and then," you replied shifting your focus on the sword between you, ever so carefully gliding your fingers along the hilt. 
Mizu's internal struggle played out on her face, a silent battle between the disciplined warrior and the unforeseen allure of your company.
“You look troubled,” the sultry tone of your voice called her out. Mizu let out a sigh, her resistance crumbling like a dam giving way to the persistent flow of water. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she found herself drawn into the magnetic field of your presence. "I am not troubled, I just don't want to be bothered," she insisted, though her gaze betrayed a conflict within.
Your fingers continued to dance along the intricate details of her sword, a silent acknowledgement of the craftsmanship that mirrored the complexities of Mizu herself. A sigh escaped your soft lips, “Then I’ll leave you to it.” Standing from your position, smoothing down your kimono as you turned around to leave the stoic wielder alone with the presence of the moonlit sakura’s
Mizu, unable to fully articulate the conflicting emotions within her, found herself reacting on an impulse she didn't quite understand. Her hand, the same one that had just moments ago wielded a sword with precision and control, now held onto the delicate fabric of your sleeve. Eyes, usually sharp and focused, betrayed a mix of uncertainty and something else—an unspoken acknowledgement of a connection.
You turned to look at her, surprise evident in your eyes. The air crackled with tension as Mizu's gaze held yours, the silent exchange conveying more than words ever could. In that brief moment, the boundaries that she had meticulously built around herself began to blur. She pulled you to sit on her lap.
"I didn't ask for this," Mizu grumbled, attempting to salvage some semblance of control over the situation.
With a playful smirk, you retorted, "Well, you did say you endure, right? Consider this endurance training for, an unexpected guest." Snaking your arms around her neck,  the subtle touch of your fingers on the back of her neck sent shivers down her spine.
Long slender fingers gripped your face, squishing your cheeks and making you form a pout, “This persistent attitude of yours reminds me of someone,” Mizu’s patience ran thin on your teasing, a frown etched on her face while she squinted her eyes.
You couldn't help but laugh at her attempt to regain control, your pout turning into a playful grin. "Oh, really? And who might that be?" you asked, your voice a melodic muffled blend of amusement and curiosity.
“Just like Taigen when we were children,” her grip on your plush face remained, a different glint evident in her cerulean eyes, “A fucking brat.” Pushing you down on the soft grass, as she hovered above you, her weight supported by her strong arms.
The world seemed to slow down as Mizu's unexpected move left you breathless. The scent of cherry blossoms lingered in the air, and the moonlight painted a surreal backdrop for the unfolding moment. The playful banter had given way to a charged atmosphere, and the tension between you two became palpable.
Mizu's gaze bore into yours, a mixture of intensity and a flicker of something more. The fingers that had gripped your face now traced a delicate path down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The weight of her body pressed against yours, and a primal energy passed between you, unspoken yet undeniable.
“I can be a brat.”
The soft rustling of the leaves overhead seemed to echo the beating of your hearts as Mizu's lips, once firm and resolute, hovered tantalizingly close to yours. Her eyes, usually guarded, now betrayed a vulnerability that mirrored your own.
"Oh, I know you can," Mizu declared, her voice low and commanding, fingers gently traced along the collar of your kimono, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine. 
"You’ll do as I say," she asked, her tone firm. "no defiance, no resistance. just complete submission." Undoing the ties of her makeshift belt with one hand as the other gathered your wrists, slowly and deliberately tying it together, ensuring you're completely at her mercy. 
Mizu can see the anticipation in your eyes, the desire to be dominated and brought to your limits. “Keep those wrists exactly where they are," she commanded, voice leaving no room for negotiation.
"I want to see just how well you can follow orders." She proceeded to explore your body with rough fingertips, caressing and teasing every inch of your exposed skin. 
You closed your legs together, “I don't think I follow orders that well,” feeling every tantalizing touch of the samurai, goosebumps rising from your skin as your breath wavered. 
Looking at the wielders eyes, a mischievous glint danced in her gaze. "Oh, we'll see about that," she purred, her fingers tracing a slow path up your inner thigh. "Resistance can be quite entertaining."
As she leaned in, her warm breath grazed your ear. "Perhaps I'll have to find more creative ways to make you obey," she teased, her fingers lightly dancing along your collarbone. "You won't be closing those legs for long."
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“come on my love speak up, what do you want? you want me to fuck you open for all of them to see?" Mizu whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. She cocked her head to the side, your gaping lips brushing her earlobe as another whine escaped your throat. You whimper, the sudden feeling of her soft lips kissing your body never failing to make you feel crazy.
Mizu’s fingers drift down, fiddling with the hem of your garment before teasing you from the outside. Her boney fingers lightly ran over your underwear, soaking cunt leaking through the fabric.
Whines and begs slipping from your mouth, pleas for her to touch you. But, she stops, looking you dead in the eyes, “what do you want? say it, use your words.” She demands, watching you so closely you could come just from her gaze.
“Please, mizu.. I want you to touch me.” 
Mizu's smirk widened as she leaned in, her fingers tracing a teasing path up your arm. "Well," she purred, "you have to be more specific than that."
Your breath caught in your throat, the anticipation thick in the air. "I want..." you stammered, struggling to form coherent words. Mizu's eyes never left yours, her confidence almost maddening.
"I want your hands on me," you finally managed to express, your voice a mix of need and frustration. Mizu's laughter echoed in the room, low and sultry.
"Such a good start," she whispered, her touch now dancing along your waist. "But you can do better. Tell me exactly where you want me to touch you."
The room seemed to shrink as you gathered your thoughts, desire and embarrassment wrestling within you. "I want your lips on mine," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with a mix of arousal and vulnerability.
Mizu's gaze intensified, a hunger evident in her eyes. "And?" she urged, her fingers lingering on the edge of your anticipation.
"Everywhere," you confessed, feeling the weight of your desire in the pit of your stomach. "I want to feel you everywhere."
Her giggle filled the room again, this time a bit softer. "Now we're getting somewhere," she murmured, closing the gap between you. 
“Here?” you whine at her words, nodding. “Why are you nodding? I said to use your words.” She growled, her brows furrowing.
“I want you to touch my pussy, mizu.” you moaned out, enough to satisfy her.
“On your hands and knees,” Nimble fingers tease and twist your panties until they’re pooling around your ankles. Breath becomes heavier as she starts to kiss a pathway down the length of your back. You give in to her urges; head tipping back as her mouth glides over the plush of your behind. 
Mizu kneels between your legs, sinking her teeth into your ass and moaning in unison with you. Your back arches at the feeling, presenting your cunt for her to feast.
“Pretty girl,” Mizu growls, hands palming your ass, spreading you further apart, “with the prettiest pussy, fuck-”
She delves in. Shiny tongue weaving between webbed folds. She groans, going for a second taste, a longer lick. Mizu slurps at your cunt, the loud, lewd sound causing you to shiver, top half of your body lowering against the tatami floors. The cold sends a jolt through your already perky nipples, and you squirm. 
“Sweeter than sugar,” Mizu licks her lips, eyes memorising the sight of your wet cunt, puffy and pulsing for her -  diving back in, her tongue and lips explore you.
Kissing your puffy clit, causing an erotic moan to leap from your swollen lips. She sucks on your aching clit, flicking the talented tip of her tongue in intricate patterns that have your thighs quivering against her flushing cheeks.
Mizu’s tongue worked its usual magic; sucking, kissing, rolling— your eyes began to water, the feeling of her inside you causing your build-up to come much faster than usual.
Indents of your teeth scatter across your hand and arm after having to bite into yourself to stay quiet. It was the crack of dawn after all. So, you continue to release muffled moans against your skin, eyes squeezing shut in concentration- but fuck  Mizu knows what she’s doing with her tongue.
“Mmhm,” Mizu groans, face smushing into your cunt. Her ego swells with every, jolt of your hips as her tongue catches the perfect spot in each swirl. The way she moved had you crying like a little girl; red-faced and sobbing, begging her to let you cum. “what do you want, again?”
“Please, please mizu, please let me cum. I’ll be good, I promise.”
She’s about to make you cum faster and harder than you ever had in your life. She can sense it in the pulsing of your clit, feel it in the tremble of your legs. God, she wants to beg. 
Feeling you slip over the edge and moaning into you. To catch every essence of your release, she switches to long yet fast licks up and down the length of you;  from your buzzing clit, over your clenching hole.
“Mizu, fuck, oh my-” Your tied hands search for her, finding purchase grasping dark long tresses, “I’m-”
A calloused hand lands on your soft supple skin with a smack. The corner of her lips curls up into a grin when your body jolts, soft whines slipping past your lips.
“We’re done when I say we’re done or has the whore forgotten the endurance training she proposed?” The insult had your tummy flipping and cunt clenching, and of course Mizu noticed.  She took no time slipping her middle finger inside you, your walls sucking her in desperately. 
Leaning over your body, her perky breast mushed against your arching back as her free hand tightly pulled your hair.
“Mizu!” you squeak, clit throbbing, the roughness of her fingers rubbing against the walls of your cunt. “Please—” you whimpered, tear droplets rolling down your cheeks.
“Shut up.” She grunted out, long and slender fingers increasing their pace, pounding that spongy taste of heaven inside you, over and over again.
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randomer4567 · 4 months
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Run (Alpha Damian x Omega Reader)
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Summary: You ran away from your alpha, years later he and his family tracked you down.
You despised the galas that Bruce would incessantly throw, primarily because of the other Omegas in attendance. They were nothing more than spoiled brats from wealthy backgrounds. In contrast, you hailed from a low-class family and had to fight tooth and nail to rise to the top. Eventually, you managed to secure a job at Wayne Industries, where you crossed paths with Damian Wayne. What intrigued you about him was his scent, a rarity since you rarely found yourself drawn to the scents of other Alphas, save for your dam and your older sister, who was also an Alpha.
Damian stood apart from the rest, as he seemed disinterested in the typical Alpha behavior of seeking out a harem of omegas.
You didn't actively pursue him, but to your surprise, he took the initiative and asked you out on a date. Initially, you almost canceled because you lacked a suitable fancy dress. However, Damian came through and sent you a dress and heels to wear. The two of you hit it off, leading to him asking you out again. This time, you had a wonderful time together. Love blossomed between you, and soon enough, Damian's rut coincided with your heat.
You decided to spend this intimate time at your place since Damian preferred not to be around his brothers and father during his rut, fearing he might go feral. That's how the two of you officially became a couple. In the beginning, Damian was sweet, treating you with gentleness, care, and respect. He showered you with attention, making you feel special and safe. He seemed to have a deep understanding of you. However, over time, he grew distant, concealing your mating mark in public and distancing himself from you. Your inner omega blamed itself, leading you to make the difficult decision to leave.
You concocted a plan to convince Damian that you were unwell. Convincing Alfred proved to be challenging, so you simply informed him that you were going through a rough week and desired some solitude. With Alfred being an omega himself, he understood your need for privacy and even aided in making it appear as though you were coming down with a cold. And now, you found yourself packing your belongings into a bag, including essential clothing, toiletries, scent blockers, enough food for several days, your cellphone, and laptop for communication with work (having transitioned to freelancing), a small first-aid kit for minor injuries, and a few books for entertainment during your journey. You had meticulously planned everything and were ready to go.
"Omega," Damian's voice called out, causing you to freeze. You mentally cursed yourself, and he approached, peering into your bag. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked, though the look on your face made him rephrase his question. "You're going somewhere," he stated, this time without a hint of uncertainty. You desperately searched for a way to lie or at least avoid getting into trouble.
"Something came up with my sister," you replied, avoiding his gaze, although his mesmerizing green eyes captivated you. Damian raised an eyebrow and remarked, "And you faked being sick just to visit your sister?" Your heart raced as you tried to think of a response. You knew you had to come up with something soon. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to explain.
"Yes, I needed to see her. She hasn't been doing well lately," you quickly added, "I just wanted to make sure she was alright." Damian regarded you with a suspicious expression, and you could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.
He nodded slowly and said, "Alright." Damian walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Sighing, you glanced out the window, feeling a sense of relief. You knew Damian would keep an eye on you. You slung your bag over your shoulder, opened the window, and cursed silently. Why did Damian have to choose a bedroom on the third floor? Fortunately, the presence of vines provided a stroke of luck. You grabbed onto them and climbed down.You fled the Wayne property, having purchased a one-way ticket to Gotham months before, before you had met Damian.
You applied scent blockers before boarding the plane. Your laptop was turned off, and your phone was set to airplane mode.Years passed, and you built a new life for yourself. Adopting an alias in your freelancing work, you altered your appearance slightly. While you didn't have a new mate, you lived with your beta cousin, who willingly helped conceal your omega scent. Despite occasional bouts of loneliness, you found contentment in your new existence. That is, until the day you unexpectedly encountered someone you never thought you would see again—Tim Drake.
You pretended not to notice him, grateful for the scarf you had borrowed from your cousin. By a strange twist of fate, you ended up in the same grocery line. Tim attempted to engage in small talk, questioning how you had been, why you left without a word, and urging you to call Damian as he had been searching for you. Feeling a surge of anxiety, you swiftly made your escape, driving a few blocks away before abandoning the car to avoid any potential tracking. With groceries in hand, you approached your cousin's home, only to be confronted by a startling sight—Red Hood and Damian holding your cousin at gunpoint.
To be continued...
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roselibrary · 1 year
Text
𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞
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Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon! Reader
Trigger Warnings: murder, targcest, eventual dark!aemond, yandere!aemond, obsessive behaviour, typical targ madness
Summary: Aemond would have his sea-nymph one way or another.
Requests are open!
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Summer blossomed like the pink buds on a cherry tree coming to life the day the young Prince Aemond realised his affection for his niece. She had ensnared his soul and enraptured his heart like the vines of ivy devouring the exterior of a Keep. Silver locks and lilac spun eyes that beheld all the secrets in the world, it seemed. Soft-tanned skin – a perfect blend of her mother and father though the same could not be said for those she called brothers – that beamed soft gold in the light of the sun and lips that looked as if only the sweetest of fruits had kissed them. Her hair shone pearlescent in a similar fashion to the decorations often found woven into her curly smooth locks. They fascinated him; the way the peals glimmered in the light and emerged from her curls like the foam atop a crashing wave.
More Velaryon than Targaryen in truth was she. She, too, had no dragon to call her own but instead proclaimed the sea as her abode and its treasures her horde. He wished to be considered a valuable item amongst those she already kept. Soft-spoken and gentle in nature she was her mother's pride and joy – the image of her grandmother they deemed the sea nymph. Sometimes, he wondered if she could grow a tail much like the mystical mermaid on the sigil of House Manderly and if she could, would she finally join her beloved sea and leave them all to wither on land? Those thoughts never brought him any comfort. Instead, he remained grateful that for as much as she wished to join the sea in all ways; she simply was unable to.
He often prayed to the gods in thanks for her inability to simply vanish on the waves.
It became lonely, living in such cold solitude, after a while and none could deny the younger prince led a cold, solitary life. His other kin shone so brightly, vivaciously and with such vitality that it was easy for him to fall into the shadows, the darkness, and the madness. He was a scarred second son of a King who did not even deem his firstborn son his heir. Aemond believed deeply in tradition and the stability such a thing brought to the realm; he could not fathom his elder half-sister bringing chaos with her untraditional succession claim. His sister would openly have a bastard follow her on the throne. Perhaps that’s where his true sentiments lay; he did not despise his sister for being a woman with a powerful agency, or even for being the heir to the throne, but for what would come after his sister's succession. What precedent would it set if bastards could inherit before trueborn children? What chaos would that sow within the realm? Aemond was a man of routine, tradition, and unrelenting stability all of which Rhaenyra was inherently posed to ruin.
Aemond didn’t wish to see his little sea nymph fall with her mother, as she undoubtedly would, due to her unending loyalty and devotion to her catastrophic family. His Gentle Dragon had no qualms openly expressing her love and devotion to the young men that would steal her birthright; it was bad enough the elder prince Jacaerys would steal her place upon the iron throne but downright insulting that, the younger than she, Lucerys would steal the birthright of her father from her person by claiming Driftmark. Aemond wished to see her claim her rightful place as the heiress of Driftmark as the only trueborn child of its heir, however, he would not want to see her seated atop the iron throne.
The monolithic, fearsome work of art did not suit the gentle and ever-changing disposition that she carried with her. Unmoving iron and sharp-edged swords should be nowhere near the supple curves and smooth skin lining her form, instead – if it were not for his no-good elder brother – he would sit upon the iron-casted seat of death in her place. He would be her King and she, his Queen. He had only to find a way to keep her with him permanently.  
Perhaps his father's addled mind and desperation for peace would smile fortuitously upon the one-eyed prince, for once.
It had been many a year since his eyes last wandered upon the form of his beloved sea nymph – a name he only acknowledged in his mind's depths. The realm’s Gentle Dragon had returned to Kings Landing alongside the rest of her kin when protests were raised on the legitimacy of her younger brother's claim to Driftmark. Something many deemed rightfully hers. She glowed effervescent in her Velaryon blue and soft violet threaded gown the silk gently forming the curves of her body and flowing down the lengths of her arms and back. It seemed the dress also recognised the girl's call of the sea for it moulded like waves and rippled in each minuscule movement of her own. The train of the gown followed behind her like the sea lapping at the sand of the beach never quite reaching as far in as it wished.
She stood beside her mother with her head held high in pride as her uncle all but disparaged what remained of her mother's good name - if anything was left of it to begin with. It had delighted him to see the Strong princelings debased in such a public manner and their mother alongside them. He enjoyed much less the disparagement of the Crown Princess’s only daughter and the belief that she would fall to the same whims her mother had and beget only bastards for her future husband. No, that did not please the prince at all. He had observed and planned and waited patiently for many a year to gain his nymph and she would give him no bastards – he knew she wouldn’t. His nymph was too intelligent, dutiful, and self-aware of the consequences of such a thing to attempt such a crime.
Still, his blood boiled, and his hands clenched behind his back. It took an effort to keep his stoicism about his person in the face of his ever-present wrath but within a second his wrath was replaced with bewildered wonderment. Gone was Ser Vaemond’s head; instead the figure of his uncle stood tall, proud, and nonchalant in the face of such grotesque violence. Aemond felt the stirrings of admiration and conflict within his chest at such a sight. This man, his uncle, was a threat, an obstacle, his biggest unrelenting guard towards what Aemond had deemed his. All the realms knew of how Daemon favoured his girls over his boys, and none could deny how he had claimed the Gentle Dragon as much his own as his other brown-skinned, silver-haired darlings. He clenched his jaw. It seemed he would need to confide with another of his aspirations if he wanted to succeed where others had failed.
As if the man could hear the thoughts echoing in the princeling's brain the Rogue turned and leered. Aemond could see the taunt within his gaze, the dare for him to be as foolish as the man who kept his tongue but lost his head.
He could hear the whisper Daemon Targaryen’s eyes conveyed.
“Claim her, if you're bold enough.”
Just as he proved to his father when he claimed Vhagar; Aemond would once more prove that he was, indeed, bold enough.
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nahoney22 · 11 days
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Hello there!
Can you do a fluff request with Tech please.
6. Dance with me? And 13. Shut up and kiss me already.
Your writing is amazing and so very inspiring x
Choices 🌊
🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader
word count: 1.6k
Prompts:
“Dance with me?”
“Shut up and kiss me already.”
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Summary: When a date stands you up, Tech finally takes the chance to make a move.
Warnings: Safe for Work, Fluff, Reader gets Stood Up, First Kiss, Mutual Pining, Slow Dancing, Female Reader.
Authors note: Thanks for the request and kind words! Enjoy 😊
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You twirl the ice cubes in your nearly empty glass with your yellow and pink striped straw, the thumping music of the club fading into the background as the realisation sinks in: you've been stood up.
You had decided to navigate the dating scene to which had been a rollercoaster. After realising your feelings weren't going to be ever reciprocated by the one you truly loved, you decided to broaden your horizons. Maybe taking your mind off him. So, you signed up for a dubious dating site on the holonet which only yielded disappointing results, to put it mildly.
Match after match failed to impress. They either droned on about themselves, were impolite to the staff, or made cringe-worthy remarks that you just don’t say on a first date. It was a string of bad experiences. And now, the guy you'd been chatting with for weeks had ghosted you.
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you signal to the service droid. "Could I have another one of these, please?" you request, motioning to your empty glass. The droid beeps in confirmation before attending to your order.
Sighing, you slump your head into your hands, regretting the effort you put into dressing up for this date, only to end up drinking alone. But, your solitude is short-lived.
As you're about to pay for your drink, a hand intercepts yours, and you look up in surprise to see a familiar pair of goggles and eyes, offering to foot the bill. "Allow me."
"Tech? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on you since you didn't respond to any of our messages," Tech explains, settling onto the stool beside you and leaning forward on the bar. "Where is he?"
You pause, considering whether to lie or not. After all, it was Tech whom you truly loved. Despite your attempts at flirting, his lack of response or reciprocation left you hesitant to confess your feelings.
Others would advise you to tell him straight rather than hint but the fear of rejection loomed large, so you let your emotions for him simmer but never fully blossom. "He didn't show," you finally admit with a sigh, tracing your arm with your fingertips.
"Oh," Tech responds, and you nurse your new drink, the silence between you turning somewhat awkward.
"Thanks for the drink, by the way," you say, breaking the quiet, and he offers a light smile.
"Not a problem. I apologise about your date not turning up. It is his loss," Tech says, his words eliciting a flutter in your stomach that you try to ignore.
You offer a dry laugh and a shrug before taking a sip through the straw. "Thanks, Tech. I'll probably finish this and head out."
Tech pauses, glancing around. "There aren't many patrons here. I’m relieved your date didn't show. It is not ideal to be in such a quiet club with few witnesses if something were to go wrong."
You pull a face at his caution. "Why say that?"
"You never know who you might encounter on the holonet. Choosing a very quiet club isn't the safest option," he explains, prompting an eye roll from you as you take another sip of your drink.
Then, you ask him, "So, where would you take someone on a date?"
He falls silent, his gaze drifting into contemplation. "I have pondered, in theory, that if I were to pursue someone, I would opt for a restaurant. Establishing eye contact is pivotal, followed by discussions about our lives. Then, perhaps, a stroll."
You hum softly, resisting the urge to picture yourself as his date, seated across from him, indulging in delectable cuisine as he shares his sentiments, followed by a romantic walk. "That sounds lovely. They’d be very lucky."
"I'm pleased you think so. Now, I pose the same question to you, as I doubt this club aligns with your idea of a first date," he counters as he does a brief scan of the area, prompting a laugh from you—he's not entirely wrong.
"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. It depends on whether I like the person or not. I'd prefer to be with someone I enjoy doing something with, rather than doing something with someone I don't," you admit, reminiscing about the countless hours you spent simply conversing with Tech in the cockpit.
A smile graces his lips at your words. "That's endearing."
You take another sip of your drink, emptying it in a few swallows before sighing and preparing to depart. "I should be on my way."
"Very well," Tech nods, but a sudden surge of courage overtakes him as he grasps your upper arm, halting your departure. "What about dancing?"
You glance at his hand on your arm, then up at him with furrowed brows. "What about it?"
"Do you... enjoy it?" he asks, his apprehension palpable as he carefully selects his words.
"I can't say I've had much experience with it. Why do you ask?" you inquire, feeling your heart quicken as he rises and steps closer.
"Dance with me?" he proposes.
You? Dance with Tech? Was this some bizarre turn of events, or perhaps a dream induced by something that Droid had put in your drink? "You don't dance," you blurt out, puzzled by his unexpected request.
He chuckles at your incredulous expression and your swift observation of his lack of dancing skills. "No, I do not. But, I don't see why we both can't give it a try together."
Part of you hopes that you detected a hint of nervousness in his demeanor, perhaps stemming from the fact that he's asking you to dance rather than his own dancing abilities. So, you offer a shy smile and nod. "Okay then."
His smile widens, his eyes gleaming behind his goggles as he releases your arm and gestures for you to lead the way to the main dance floor. The music pulses softly, with a gentle rhythm that invites movement. The deep purple strobe lights dancing off your bodies.
Neither of you seem entirely sure of what to do next, exchanging uncertain glances until he clears his throat and extends his hand to you. Your cheeks warm while your fingers slip into his as he draws you closer, his other hand finding its place on your hip as yours rests on his opposite shoulder.
You initiate a small side step, and Tech follows suit, occasionally glancing down at your feet before meeting your gaze. "This is unexpected... but nice," you murmur softly, even as your whole body tingles with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.
A part of you cautions against letting your hopes get the better of you, reminding you that this shouldn't be happening. Yet, as you lock eyes with him, he holds your gaze, a rare silence settling between you. And he always has something to say.
Drawing you closer than before, your cheek rests against his chest as the two of you sway to the music, his chin gently resting atop your head. "May I ask you a question?" he ventures after a minute or two.
"Uh-huh," you reply, your eyes fluttering closed as you savour the moment.
"Why did you not choose me?" he inquires, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it reverberates in the stillness of the moment.
Your eyes flutter open, and you tilt your head back, peering up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. The dim light of the club casts a soft glow on his face, illuminating the earnestness in his gaze. "What do you mean?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, hardly audible over the pulsating music.
He bites the inside of his cheek, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he readjusts his goggles with a practiced hand. "You've... flirted with me on numerous occasions," he explains, his tone careful and measured, "yet you chose to pursue someone else."
His words leave you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to comprehend the implications of his confession. He knew about your attempts at flirting? The realisation sends a shiver down your spine. "Tech," you begin, meeting his gaze with furrowed brows, "you never indicated that you wanted me to stop, or that you felt the same way. I just assumed..."
"That I did not share the same feelings you have for me? That I could not?” His voice is soft, yet it carries a weight that hangs in the air between you.
"Do you?" you whisper, feeling the flutter of anticipation in your chest, your heart pounding against your ribs as if seeking escape from the intensity of the moment.
He nods solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. "I didn't know how to tell you," he admits, "Expressing emotions is not exactly second nature to me. It was not until the others pointed out your advances that I realised it was too late to respond."
As he starts to explain, his words tumbling out in a rush, you can't help but notice the warmth spreading across his cheeks, the nervous energy that radiates from him. It's endearing, seeing him flustered like this, and it emboldens you to take action.
Releasing his hand from your grasp, you reach up to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. "Shut up and kiss me already.”
Tone soft but resolute, a playful glint dancing in your eyes has him leaning into you without a second thought.
His lips meet yours in a tender and hesitant touch. Warm. Soft. They were everything you had imagined. Everything around you seems to vanish, just you and him caught in the moment. Then, you can feel him smile against your lips as he draws you near, body flushed to his as his lips move along with yours with a gentle passion.
As he pulls away for a breath, both of your heartbeats shattering your eardrums, he smiles lovingly at you. “Do not hesitate to tell me to shut up and kiss you again.”
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Masterlist
More Tech Works
Tags: @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri i @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894 @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904
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smolvenger · 6 months
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Yggdrasil (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)
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Summary: Your husband, the god of mischief, has made the ultimate sacrifice for his friends, and the world...he lives, but now he is alone...that is until you choose to join him in his solitude and make a life there.
Warnings: MAJOR spoilers for the ending of the Loki series. Angst, but fluff and hurt/comfort. YN becomes a goddess in her YN-y moment. Brief mentions of sex and pregnancy, but no smut at all. Fix it Fic goodness. Canon and Norse mythology is not a code and more like a guideline. Is it accurate? I don't know. And this is fic world. Accuracy don't mean shit. I just want my boy to be happy after all that and do my part as a Loki fic writer after...THAT.
Word Count: 2K
@fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
You walked over to the tree. It was incredibly beautiful. The vines reaching out. The colors are everywhere. The trunk of it twisting, twisting round. The blueness and soft greens that surrounded you. Light purple flowers high up, blossoming. You had heard of it in stories. Maybe dreamed of it once. But here…here in person it was even more beautiful.
“Hello there, Yggdrasil.” you greeted with a smile.
There was a breeze in the wind. It rattled the leaves above. The starry sky. It didn’t feel too cold here- it felt sweet, crisp. An early autumn night. You took several steps closer until you were right before the trunk. Your voice lowering.
“But I know who you really are…who is in there…” you continued.
The search had been long. It had been a month. A month since you saw him. The look on his face, and felt his sacrifice, his steps going forward. Now here it was-in person. Here he was.
It shivered in response. You went up, gently placing a hand on the bark. 
You felt the curves of your lips to a gentle frown. A voice that was not begging…only requesting. Soft, but grounded. As grounded as the tree was though in it’s magic it seemed like it floated where it grew.
“Please…take me to him…it is all I want, all I wish, all I ask for…please allow me to see him…even if it’s only once…”
Was your prayer answered? Even heard? You sucked in a breath, feeling your chest grow tight with anticipation. The delicate lines of both despair and hope on a thin line.The golden band around your finger felt tight- shimmering amidst the dark wood of the tree.
The vines relented. They thinned and opened up- as easily as silk. There was a glowing opening within the tree. You felt it- a stillness. As if you were waited. Expected.
Inside it, you took your steps into the heart of the tree. It felt like the cool mist, the light rain as you walked through-like the light rain that poured the first night you let him into your bed. Your heart raced, your palms clammy. 
Was this a mistake? The wrong one? It had to be…it had to! It couldn't have done that unless… it was really…no- was this it? Would Yggdrasil kill you? Destroy you for knowledge so intimate, so secret?
Branches, vines, leaves- so much wood here. There was a green light that glowed about it, shining everywhere- how perfect for him, you mused. 
Your head turned. Throat going dry and tight with dread, fear. You searched around. Eyes skittering through the thick vines.
You looked around-nothing but the greenery…
Then…there was a voice. Breathy, baritone, low, rich-and it whispered your name in echoes. 
The greenery opened up. You saw first horns. Then…
There, on a throne, surrounded by vines, there he sat. Pale and handsome. He was always handsome to you. Despite the lines of care, his drooping eyes…it was him. You knew that face- caressed it, kissed it so many times.
His eyes then lowered to you. Its blueness seemed darkened, dimmed. Then he looked at you, squinting. He whispered your name again, to you. You felt everything in you freeze. You wanted this. Processed it. It was real- very, very real.
“Is…is that…” he began to whisper.
Tears brimmed up your eyes and you cupped your mouth, as you felt them drop down your hand already.
“Loki it’s you!” you cried out.
Sobbing hard, you ran into him, almost tackling him into a hug. Crying so hard your whole body shook with each tearfall. So much your face felt hot, even as it scratched against his cloak- against the long vines. You felt his hands wrap around you. And you heard him just say your name again- an incantation. A spell to bring you back. A spell that worked. You cried as he held you, the vines around him shivering.
“What…what is it…why…why did you come here?” he asked.
You released the hug. Wiping off your tears with your sleeve like a little child. Your tone returned to the old teasing. 
“You silly man! What kind of wife abandons her husband?”
Loki’s mouth opened, but he said nothing. His face was in awe.
“I came here for you! I figured out how- and I did!” you replied.
He let out a deep sigh. He lifted his white hand, caressing your cheek. You leaned into it, enjoying the intimacy, his touch that you had been deprived of, that he had been deprived of too for so long.  
“You know I cannot leave this. Ever. I…I must do this, my love…I had to…to save all of them…to save you…I…I must make sure…their stories all…all are happy…are managed, well…even yours.” he voiced. His face serene, though a tear fell down across his cheek.
You then took his hand and clutched it. 
“Loki, the many times you comforted me when I cried. Stood by me. Protected me when I was in danger, scared. Saved me, even. And you know how…how lonely I would get in Asgard. Who else would run to my side to comfort me…but you. I shall do that for you!”
His eyes widened.
“But…you cannot give up your home, your life!” he replied.
You shook your head.
“I will make a new one here- we will make a new one here…Thor and Frigga gave me their blessing before I left. They saw how happy we made each others…and that is what they want. I told them what you did. The people you saved…and they’re…they’re proud of you.”
He blinked rapidly, more tears falling down. You lifted two of your hands- cupping his face lovingly. He had no choice but to look in your eyes.
“When we were married, we promised, before the AllFather and AllMother to always stand by each other...I will honor the vows I made on that altar, as you honored your vows to me,” you declared.
The wind rustled above. Inside, there were a few violet buds that dangled, moving slightly. Willing the flower to open.
“My darling….Asgard will lack its princess.”
“A mere consort? No! I am not an heir to anything! A mere accessory to a throne, a part of a painting…and nothing eles? And alone? Loki,  I don't need a palace, gold, riches, and titles…I only ask to be loved and safe…and Loki…you will be alone…now- you won’t be. I will stay by you. We will face this new part of your life together!”
There was a slight grown from the wood. Both of you looked about, your hands dropping. He nestled into the green cloak he wore around him. His helmet perfect for him- never once slipping off his head.
“It’s quiet here…there’s no one…nothing…a life of nothing…but making these stories” he mused.
“Then let me stay…let me help…if only…if only to be with you…I will live here. If not near- then give me access. I will stay here, come by every day. Visit for hours…just to be with you.”
“My darling…sweet, sweet wife…I was alone and I…I don’t have to…”
There were tears in his eyes.
“Thank you…thank you, my dear…”
He pressed his forehead to yours. The cold metal of the forehead touching your own. You only held hands. Felt each other- the love in your systems bursting forth.
A vine went to you, grazing against your arm. You lifted a hand.
“Which one is this?” you asked.
“This one…a man named Steve…or Marc…he’s three at once, it’s very complicated….” Loki explained.
You lifted a finger to touch it. There was a ripple. The vines shook, some of them went to you. You wondered…you lifted a hand. It allowed you to touch it. There was a small, reddish glow, it went up and through.
“You just…just…made something happen…something will occur for Steve…he’s about to learn what gifts he truly has…my dear…has this happened before?”
“No- not until now…”
“You think that…you have a certain…gift?” he asked.
The vines reacted in turn. You realzed as you touched them, you could help move these stories. Turn them- touching made something happen and Loki would tell you.
“My dear…you have a gift. One of fate…”
“Then…I guess I cannot leave now. You will help with stories. I will help with fates. We both have work to do.”
He smiled.
“Asgard now has a new goddess…” he said. You went up, and kissed him. You cried as your lips touched. And there was a shudder that went through the trees and rattled through the forest like a wind. 
It was an adjustment. Making a home just outside of the remains of the earth. Fortunately, you knew enough magic to get by. To transport and conjure food. Even gather some from the nearby village. Enough to make a garden, a home.
And every day, you walked out to Yggdrasil. Vanished for hours. Then returned. 
For the villagers, it was odd that a goddess of fate was just going about the streets getting groceries among them. You merely shrugged and laughed it off. 
You said your husband was busy. Quite busy. He had an important job-crucial one. Yet people wondered at you- the mysterious goddess who lived in a cottage by the woods, whose husband never appeared, and vanished into the forest. The forest at the end of the world, mind you- every day and returned with a smile on her face as if nothing happened. 
It was quiet and simple. No opulent balls and feasts of Asgard. But no fathers with clear favorites and tears and bloody battles with countless corpses and heartbreak either.
 How often you polished the horns on his helmet and washed his cloak by the river. Then he would tell you all about what happened. Fates and stories.  You would mend them, mind them. Determine what worked, what did not. And you would laugh and cry so hard over every story on earth of each person you would feel like a rag rung out…yet in a good way.
And you would wrap your arms around him. Sit on his lap on the throne, as you did back then so many times before. Kiss him and nuzzle into him. Feel his touch- remind him through the brush of your fingers through his dark curls. I am here, I am here, I am here. 
It was like being remarried- A honeymoon fortress of oak, willow leaves, and flower petals. The newness of your husbands role, his abilities. As well as yours. But without everything else…no, you didn’t need anything else. Only each other.
It was a month later, you knew the change. You felt it. The suspicion. The inkling you felt since you began your journey. Counting on your fingers from when it last happened, and your journey to him began, the timing was right. The intuition. The small ringing of a bell in the back of your head getting louder, and louder with each passing week. The one reason on the backburner that was never confirmed. And now it was. You both wanted it. Hoped for it. Now, though the circumstances could have never been guessed, you would both receive your wish. The confirmation long awaited. 
On Yule, you teasingly adored the tree in ribbons. Loki inside scoffed, rolling his eyes. But it only made you laugh harder. In Spring, you collect its flowers and put them in vases. In Summer, you cooled beneath it’s shade. Loki made sure your story was hte one most preciously protected, guarded. You made old charms from the flowers with his magic- for your safety and good health. Flowers worn over your head in crowns, on your neck. And in Autumn, you watched as they oranged and swirled. How lovely they were surrounding you as you held each other. 
A year and a half went by before you knew it, as swift as mortals lives. the cottage had an infant girl living in it.  She had dark hair, and your skin and eyes. And she was starting to walk. You held her up by both hands in the grass before the forest.  
“Come along Freya! There’s a good girl! A step at a time!” you cooed at her.
Who knew what her powers would be. What she was goddess of. But here, she wasn’t a goddess. She was just a baby.
She was Babbling as the grass tickled her feet. The loving, green dress you tucked over her. You held her tiny, chubby hand as she experimentally bent her knees. Then she made a sound of triumph.
Motherhood was not going to stop your gifts and powers as a goddess of fate. You touched the vines and turned fates however. But you had to give happy ones to the friends of him. The ones who meant so much to him, did so much for him. For Mobius, you made sure his sons grew up healthy and strong and happy, with long vacations by lakes and oceans. For Ouroboros, you gave him several awards and successes as a writer and the inspiration and motivation to create, pour water into his own well, and never lose the joy of it. You made sure they all were safe and content. 
 You scooped little Freya up your arms, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. She was behaving well- not crying loud to wake the whole village. Needing perhaps a cradle from the vines of Yggdrasil again in Norns Know what time of night if she was especially fussy. 
You walked her again to the tree. She looked out with her wide eyes. One hand trying to touch the leaves, the vines, the branches. A thing of flowers bloomed for her. One leafy vine went over to graze her cheek. She kicked in enthusiasm, giggling in such pure joy.
 You smiled at her and then at Yggdrasil. Seeing the portal open once again.
 Knowing he was inside again- to see her. Meet her. Hold her as he did when she was a swaddled newborn to be brought- for him to just hold her. Despite the great loneliness of Loki’s inital fate, you all did everything to change it. He would meet Freya and watch her grow up. He would see her, hold her, love her. Again. Again. And again. 
You turned your face to the baby with a smile, and then to the portal door and the god of stories waiting inside.
“Freya- let’s go see your father.”
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