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#just to get to so little feedback is making me DOUBT
scuderiasundays · 2 days
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free ride
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summary: friction, spontaneous gifts, and revelations on a ride home + a little insta au at the end 💌
words: 673
a/n: a short blurb! haven't written in months but may post sporadically. tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz just because. any and all feedback much appreciated as always! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼
“You can be so clingy sometimes.” Lando let out a sigh, one that was tinged with deep disapproval. He continued to hastily shove his belongings into the duffel bag you had gifted him mere weeks ago. Standing in the hallway, your mind couldn’t help but play back the memory of a happier time.
-
“You’ve gotten me a gift and it’s not even my birthday. If this is a taste of what a lifetime with you looks like, sign me up!”
Lando twirled with the sleek leather bag over his shoulder. Qatar Airways had lost his prized duffel (another “perk” of being a frequent flyer). While you were well aware he could easily afford a replacement, the sheer thought of giving back to him put a smile on your face.
“Check the luggage tag,” you said. He turned it over in his hand, revealing the number one engraved in gold.
“You do realize my driver number is four, right? Or was this meant for Max?“ He said, his lips turning upwards in a cheeky grin.
“Shut up, I just wanted you to show you how much I believe in you—my future world champion.”
“How did I get so lucky?” He pulled you close, cupping your face with both hands before planting a kiss on your forehead.
-
You shook yourself out of it as the front door slammed, realizing your vision start to blur. With 24 races on the calendar and work keeping you in London, it wasn't a total shock that things had gone south. Yet as you tried to make sense of it all, you couldn't decipher if it was Lando speaking or just the exhaustion from a 13-hour flight getting to him. All you did was ask if he wanted to join you for dinner with friends tonight, and he’d deemed you “clingy.”
-
You heard your phone buzz on the kitchen island as you grabbed the keys. It was Ashley calling. He’d call you on occasion when Lando asked him to but it surprised you nonetheless. He sounded worried as he explained that Lando wasn't feeling well at the MTC and needed someone to pick him up. Feeling a sense of urgency, you quickly shifted gears, realizing that you’d have to take a rain check on tonight’s plans.
-
Lando looked pale and small as he climbed into the passenger’s side of your car. You tried to help him in but he swatted your hands away, a lingering reminder of the tension between you. You turned up the radio to drown out the deafening silence when you suddenly heard his voice.
“I’m sorry about this morning.” You could just make out his eyes shifting from the window to you in your peripheral vision. To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t expected an apology out of him so soon.
“I never meant to tell you this but the thought of you walking away from me and us…Well, just thinking about it makes me queasy. I was on the sim and I realized I’d hurt you and my mind started spiraling and-”
You pulled the car over to the side of the road as his breathing shallowed.
“Hey, everything’s going to be fine.” You wiped the tears from his face and placed your hand on his thigh. It took a few minutes but you saw the color gradually return to his face.
“Anywhere you want to go? It’s rare you let me drive so I’m taking it all in.”
“Up to you. I’m just here for the free ride.” He giggled.
“Free, huh? Well, this girl charges in secrets. So, where’s Carlos headed next season?”
Lando ran his hands through his curls, a nervous tick of his.
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
He flashed a devilish grin, his eyes twinkling in the evening glow. As much as you despised the complications that came with all the time zones and miles apart, there was no doubt you'd find your way back to each other at the end of each day.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 41,414 others
yourusername: i cry a lot but i am so productive! it's! an! art!
fan1: love that she's a swiftie but is lando the reason behind all her crying 🤨
fan2: if so, it's on sight!!!
landonorris: begging you to clear my name and confirm i am, in fact, the world's best boyfriend
yourusername: i love you but what did we say about a growth mindset?
carlossainz55: humble him, reina 🤭
yourbestfriend: love the fact that pimm fits perfectly in your 🚲 basket
pietra.pilao: soooo much love for you ❤️
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robrae-is-forever · 8 months
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Honestly debating whether or not I should spend days and days writing a 50k+ word fanfic for a pairing that, while popular, is also fairly old and doesn't receive much attention and doing something more productive with my time
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zyafics · 2 months
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stay the night | rafe cameron (18+)
pairing: rafe cameron x female reader
summary: when rafe cameron sees you as just a fuck buddy, you embody the role and remind him what that means.
warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, jealousy, dominance play, oral receiving (f + m), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, praise kink, a little bit of fluff at the end
word count: 5.5k
zya's notes: i originally had this planned for my “brother’s rival” series but it didn’t fit so here u go
dedication: thank u @xorafe for beta-reading and ur feedbacks, u truly are a real one <3
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Rafe Cameron doesn't get jealous.
You two aren't a couple. You are nothing more than casual fuck buddies that are conveniently located within proximity of one another when one of you need to blow off some steam or get off. The feeling is completely mutual.
However, you've been exclusive.
It's unspoken, of course. No one is willing to admit that they don't want the other to be sleeping with other people and you settled on that ambiguity.
You thought it could mean something more.
You thought wrong.
The other day, after fooling around, you laid in his bed, wearing nothing, and asked if you could stay the night. As part of your undefined relationship, you don't do sleepovers. Rafe doesn't do sleepovers. However, he was the one who was calling you after midnight. He was the one who wanted you to sneak out of your house, where your parents placed a curfew. If you go home now, you would be caught dead in the act and get into trouble. It would be easier to save yourself and stay over.
"No." Rafe declared, not letting the suggestion linger for more than a second. You lifted yourself from the bed by propping your elbows against his mattress, staring at the man who's searching for his throwaway clothes on the floor and redressed himself. "We don't do sleepovers. I don't want to be caught with a Pogue."
"Rafe." You said with a hint of annoyance. He saw you naked, but he was afraid of being seen with you in public? "It's fucking four in the morning. My parents are going to see me."
He scoffed. "Not my problem."
"So what? You don't care if I get in trouble?"
He shrugged, pulling his shirt over his chest. "You're just a fuck."
You said nothing. You just stared at him. He quickly gets dressed and finds your clothes around his floor, throwing them on the bed for you to take. With a huff, you pull yourself from the comforts and put them on.
"I'll call you." He said as you walked out of his bedroom, but you didn't answer him. All you did was flip him off and make your way out.
The next morning, you got in trouble with your parents regarding your absence. But, you said nothing, taking the lecture they gave you and headed to your room.
And you thought, if he sees me as a quick fuck, fine. I'll be just that.
The next Kook party, you were there. You always attended Kook parties, despite being a Pogue, simply because the alcohol is all free and it tasted better. No more cheap beer on The Boneyard, but you had to admit—the music was better.
Kooks can't play for shit.
This party happened to be on Tanneyhill, the mansion where Rafe lived. You haven't seen him since the last time you hooked up, and it's been the longest you've gone without seeing each other. Sure, he called you but you let it go to voicemails and all his texts were left on read. You know, without a doubt, Rafe would be looking for you and attempting to pull you to the nearest bathroom to fuck your brains out.
But you didn't care.
(Maybe just a little).
After dancing for a while, grinding against random strangers and making conversations with some friends of yours, you settled into a seat next to a Kook. He introduced himself as Ethan, and you chat with him as you drink from your cup, making small talk about what you're doing this summer.
He seemed interested enough. His eyes shamelessly glance down at your top, which practically shows off your tits, and floats back to your lips a couple of times. You knew if you wanted to, he would've follow you to a bedroom and fuck you.
But you didn't.
You laughed at his jokes. You told some of your own.
All while having an nagging feeling of a pair of eyes on the back of your head.
You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. You know exactly who.
And Rafe Cameron is fuming.
He noticed you when you first walked in, in a top that shows off too much and a skirt that covers practically nothing. You walked into Tanneyhill as if you owned the place, despite being a Pogue, and that's one of the things that irritates him about you.
But it also made him attracted to you.
Your confidence. Your demeanor. You never backed down when Rafe tries to put you in your place and you never let him gain control without a fight. He likes that you make him work for it; there's a thrill in the chase. Because he knows, at the end of the day, it's his bed that you ended up in. It's his cock that you're sucking.
But, at this moment, he isn't so sure. Instead of being in his arms, talking to him, you were talking to some random fucking guy who attended Kook Academy and is making you laugh.
You didn't even bother to tell him you were coming.
Rafe thought he could hold it in until he got you alone.
But that was before the guy put his hand on your upper thigh and you let him.
It takes mere seconds for Rafe to cross the yard, and when he comes behind you, it surprises you at how silent he was. "Get your hands off my fucking girl," he snapped at Ethan and before Ethan got the chance to back off, Rafe grabs your arm and pulls you off the chair, taking you inside of Tanneyhill.
You let him drag you for a few moments. The booze in your system is making your reaction sluggish, but when the realization dawns on you, you finally pull away when you reach in front of his bedroom, hidden in a dark hallway.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
He scoffs at your words. "What am I doing?" He repeats. You nod. He jabs an accusing finger in your direction. "What the fuck are you doing?"
You lift the cup to your lips. "I'm drinking."
His eyes are livid. "With that guy?" He gestures outside where Ethan is, jealousy pouring from his words and he sounds like he's using every inch of restraint he has to hold everything together. You shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but you are. When you don't answer him, feigning a bored expression, Rafe gets more frustrated. He doesn't like that you aren't reacting. He doesn't like it at all. "What's your fucking problem?"
You lift your shoulders in a casual shrug, pressing the red solo cup against your lips and says, "thought I was just another fuck."
He knows you were throwing his words back at him. He knows that this is some fucking test that you're doing to drive him bad. He also knows it's working, so much so that he knocks the cup out of your hands, causing the content to spill all over his marble floor. "Fuck you."
You scoff, unfazed by his aggression. "You already did." You say, and while Rafe is silently raging underneath, you decide to take it a step further. Closing in the distance until you're right in front of his face, you smirk, "and you fucking loved it."
Rafe is breathing hard, his blue eyes searching your face, his chest raising and falling in rapid beats as frustration rolls off of him, all while you tip your head to the side, raising your brow, challenging him to respond.
He does.
By slamming his lips against yours.
One of his hands catches the back of your neck as he presses a bruising and punishing kiss against your lips, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. Instinctively, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
"You're mine." He breathes against your lips when you break apart, trailing kisses down the column of your neck as you tip your head back to give him more access, feeling his mouth working against your skin. "And no fucking asshole from the Academy is going to take you away from me."
Wanting to tease him further, you say. "What if I leave?"
He answers you by sucking on a sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to arch into him and let out an involuntary moan as his free hand descends down to your short skirt and roughly palms your ass. Rafe chuckles against your skin, satisfied by your body's reaction to him. "Then no one is going to make you feel like I do."
His hands move to pull down your top, causing your tits to spill out of the fabric. The cold air pricks at your exposed skin and Rafe takes a beat of a second to admire you before lifting his gaze to meet you in an easy, cocky grin.
"So ready for me," he teases, moving his hand up to play with your hardened nipples between his fingers. You let out a small sigh. "God, you're fucking gorgeous."
"Shut up," you say, not liking how his words are making your cheeks flush with heat and a flutter of butterflies to swarm your stomach. This is just a fuck, you remind yourself. He lifts his blue eyes to meet you for a brief second before descending his mouth down to cover one of your nipples.
You always like playing with yourself there. As his tongue swirls around the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly graze against the bud, causing your moan to echo across the hallway and his hand immediately slaps over your mouth, silencing them.
Rafe's eyes lock with yours. "You don't want anyone to hear what a needy girl you are, do you?"
You clench your jaw underneath his hand, at his dominance, but when you don't answer fast enough, he asks again. "Do you?"
You shake your head and he pulls himself off of you, the cold invades the absence of his heat. But, Rafe doesn't leave you for long. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his bedroom. The moment the door slams close, his lips return on yours and his hands explore over your exposed body.
Your core clenches as Rafe slams you against the back of the door, kissing you hungrily as he lowers his hand to the cutoff of your skirt and pushes the flimsy material up to your hips before cupping your pussy.
"God, you're dripping," he says with a small laugh, looking up to you. "Are you this wet for me, baby?"
You are. Rafe Cameron has a way to make your entire body responsive to him, his touch, his kisses, his everything. But, you don't want to let him know that. You don't know how much you want it, how much you need it.
Instead of answering him, you say with a roughness to your voice, "if you don't fuck me, Cameron, I'll find someone else who will."
Humor leaves his face and his expression hardens. He cups your cunt hard, causing you to involuntary jolt forward into his hand and a small whimper to escape you. "This is mine. No other fucking man is going to touch this but me."
"Big words for someone who hasn't made me come."
His eyes darken and, with your taunting and teasing getting to him, he finally pushes your panties to the side and inserts a rough finger inside of your pussy, causing you to wince at the abrupt motion. "Can you handle it?"
You nod with closed eyes, feeling as he adds a second finger, thrusting in a steady but rough pace, his other hand fondling with your tits.
You lean back against the door with heavy breaths, moaning and clenching as your orgasm builds from his rhythm. Rafe knows your body, he knows you're about to come, and as your moans get more erratic and you grind harder into his hand, he quickens his thrusts. Leaning into you, he says to your ear, "let it out, baby."
You do.
Your walls clench around his fingers tightly as you ride on your high, so much so that you hear his muttered fuck under his breath. When you're slowly coming down from your climax, Rafe removes his hand. The loss of his touch causes you to frown but before you get the chance to open your eyes and complain, he pushes the wet digits against the entrance of your lips. "Suck."
You want to argue back, about him telling you what to do, but you can't seem to help but listen. Your eyes open and find his face, watching you as you suck his fingers clean of your arousal. "Good girl."
When he withdraws his fingers, clarity dawns on you. He's wearing too much while you're practically exposed. You didn't like how uneven the playing field is, and with a gesture to his shirt and pants, you demand. "Take it off."
His smirk is smug. "Eager, aren't we?"
"If I have to be naked, so do you."
"You aren't naked." He gestures back to you and you look down at yourself. While your tits are showing and your panties are soak, he's right, you technically aren't naked. Not afraid of backing down from a challenge, you easily pull your tiny top over your shoulders and push your skirt and panties down to your ankles.
Stepping out of them, you look back to see Rafe admiring your naked body. You can see the outline of his erection straining against his pants, and for a moment, a self-consciousness creeps up on you and you blush. With a hard swallow, you point to him. "Your turn."
The corner of his lips quirks up at how demanding you are and he pulls his shirt over his body, revealing the defined and taunt muscles of his chest underneath. Your mouth waters. You watch as he goes for his belt—knowing you’re watching—that he teases it out slowly. He messes with the buckle, taking his sweet time, that you grow impatient. 
"Goddammit," you mutter under your breath, approaching him and pushing his hands out of the way, sinking to your knees as you unbuckle the belt with ease—practices from all the other times. When you pull it out of his pants, you stop, looking up to Rafe.
"Go on, princess." He gestures, a cocky grin at the sight of you on your knees for him. "Finish what you started."
You hate how much power he has over you this time, how he is telling you what to do, but because of how needy you are, how much you want him between your legs and his cock to be in you, you listen. You unzip and pull down his pants, revealing an impressed bulge underneath his briefs. With one easy tug, you freed his cock and it stood in front of you, hard and leaking with pre-cum.
On your knees, you look up to see Rafe watching you, waiting to see what you do. His eyes are hungry and his arousal is obvious. Tentatively, you wrap your hand around the thick cock, your fingers barely connecting together because of his girth.
And slowly, you rub up and down his shaft.
A hiss leaves the back of Rafe's throat and satisfaction pools in your core at the realization that you are making him feel this way, that you have this much control. "Faster." He commands, his voice thick with desire.
Instead of listening to his orders, you open your mouth and take his cock in your mouth, swallowing the salty taste as you swirl your tongue at his head. Added with the motion of your hand playing with his balls, and rubbing him up and down, Rafe can’t help but rock his hips against your face. 
“Fuck,” he swears, his hand finds your hair and pulls your closer to him, as your grip around him gets firmer and you hollow your cheeks, creating a stronger suction. Rafe groans under your touch, tugging the root of your strands, wanting you to do anything and everything to build him closer to his climax. “Fuck, baby, I’m close.” 
With that pride of information, you slow down, your fingers loosen their pace and you pop the cock out of your mouth. Rafe feels the instant loss of touch and he looks down at you, his expression hard and angry.
"What the fuck?"
"Say please."
He says your name in a command, but you don't budge.
Rafe's blue eyes are hard. He knows you do this. He knows you like to mess with him, take back control whenever you find yourself in a small position of power and remind him of his place. Irritation builds in his chest, this time worse than the others, but so does his delayed climax. He needs it more.
With a reluctant sigh, he says, "please."
You return your motion, moving in slow, torturous strokes as your hand moves up and down his slick length, creating enough pleasure for him to feel but not enough friction to ease into his climax. Your mouth has yet to return on his cock and without the added assistance, his jaw tense and his frustration and horniness builds. 
In a desperate plea, Rafe begs, "baby, please."
His voice didn't sound like his own and his words are so rough, so willing, that you can't help but alleviate him from his misery. You reconnect your lips on his tip and begin to rub his faster, firmer, sucking him harder. With the edge of delay, Rafe comes fast with a guttural groan, spilling in your mouth as you lap over the taste, swallowing all of it.
Rafe lowers himself and guides you back to your feet, pulling you towards the bed and pushing you flat against the mattress, laying on your back.
He lowers himself off the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees as he steps in front of your exposed pussy, and looks up to see the self-satisfied smirk on your face at the little stunt you pulled back there. In a low voice, he says, "you're going to regret that."
A finger drags up your slit, in a slow motion, gathering your wetness on the digit but producing enough pressure that it makes you whine. You try to grind yourself against his hand but he lays his palm on the flat of your stomach, holding you in place. 
When his eyes connect with your needy gaze, he says, “my turn.” 
Dipping his head between your legs, he kisses your inner thighs in slow, agonizing touches. It produces an aching feel to your core as he gives careful attention to both of your thighs, slowly creeping up to your throbbing cunt, but not quite giving you a release. 
Rafe lingers on a particular sensitive spot near your pussy, sucking and kissing the placement until you're writhing in pleasure and frustration, desperate to feel his tongue in you.
"Rafe," you say with a throaty beg and he grins against your skin.
"I said you're going to regret it."
"Yeah, and if you take any longer, I'm going to go downstairs to find Ethan."
Rafe hates it when you mention other men, or even think of other men, especially when he’s fucking you, but it does the trick as he moves between you and his fingers spread your folds. “You are this wet for me, baby, not Ethan,” he reminds you, before lowering himself to your pussy, flattening his tongue against your center before moving up and down in slow strokes. 
“Fuck,” you moan as he finds your sensitive clit and sucks on the nub, the sound of wetness fills the bedroom as the low volume of the music thumps from downstairs. He lets one finger enter your cunt, beginning at a slow pace. “Rafe, ohmygod.”
He moves faster, rougher, lapping out your taste as if he was dying of thirst. With his finger quickening and his tongue working a miracle on you, another orgasm builds. 
“I’m close,” you whisper and he nods. He moves with precision and god, Rafe Cameron is good at eating pussy. When his tongue enters into you and the pad of his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit, you can’t help but arch into his pleasure and come on his face. 
You fall against the mattress with a heavy breath, but Rafe doesn’t stop. He continues to suck and lap and rub, causing you to wrap your thighs tightly around his head. You’re already so exhausted, so sensitive, coming down from your high, but that does nothing to satiate the man between your legs—fingers and tongue buried inside of you, still hungry. 
Your thighs violently shake and your fingers rack through his hair, pulling, “ohmygod, ohmygod,” you moan as he works another orgasm from you, your stomach tightening and the pressure being so unbearable you feel as if you’re going to cave and explode. 
“Come for me, baby, I want another one.” He mumbles against your cunt, the low hum of his voice vibrates through your body in a pleasurable sensation. With a rougher pace and a harder suction around your clit, you come for a second time in a row. 
You’re an absolute wreck when he pulls away and, assessing the damage he caused, Rafe chuckles at the sight before him. You splay out on the mattress, breathing heavily with low lids and the prettiest pussy. He lowers himself, placing both hands on either side of your head to carry his weight, he plants a soft kiss on your lips. 
His eyes set on you, a gentle gaze, and whispers. “Can you take another, baby?” 
Though you are weak from all the orgasms you endured, you still nod, looping your arms around his neck as he descends closer to you, planting kisses against your lips, the corner of your mouth, to the edge of your jawline. You can feel his erection grazing at your entrance, waiting to enter, and the thought itself ignites another round of passion and need within you. 
Rafe pulls back just enough to line his cock against your wet folds. Before he enters, he looks up to you, waiting for a confirmation sign. When you nod, he slowly pushes the length into your aching core and you jerk forward. 
He goes in slow at first, allowing your walls to adjust to his size because, no matter how many times he’s been inside of you, it still takes a moment for your pussy to register that this is him. That this is his pussy. A hiss escapes the back of his throat. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” 
You, with what little strength you have left, push yourself up as he rocks against your hips, beginning his thrusts. You get closer to him, grabbing his shoulders, while he takes the opportunity to play with your tits. 
This new position allows him to enter deeper inside of you, hitting a new angle, causing you to let out a cry from the explosion of pleasure. In addition to the remnants of the orgasms you had a few moments prior, as Rafe pounds into your very sensitive core, you begin to feel as if you’re seeing stars. 
Rafe leans down, closer to your ear as he asks, "who's fucking you?"
You feel your stomach knot and tighten, knowing he’s getting you close. But, you also can feel his cock twitching inside your walls, alerting you that he’s also getting close. With this dynamic power, you turn your head to face Rafe, connecting your heavy-lid eyes with his. 
“Ethan.” 
Rafe stills. His eyes darken at your words, watching the way your lips curl with an innocent look and he decided he hates it. He hates this little power play you're doing to him, he hates how it's working. He knows that you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, but without the reassurance that you are his—fully, devotedly his—he doesn't know if you haven't fucked another guy before. If you haven't had Ethan's name on your lips.
His hand lowers between the two of you, lightly grazing against your sensitive clit. You jolt into his touch. "Did you fuck him?"
His voice is low, dangerously low, as you watch how serious he turned with the tease of another man's name. You tilt your head to the side, challenging him. "And if I did?"
He pinches your clit and your hips arch forward, but he uses his other hand to grab it still. Your core throbbing while he remains inside of you and does nothing. You realize, in this moment, that you might've gone too far. You feel full and have everything in your possession to make you reach your highest peak but you chose to delay it with a joke that wasn't even that funny.
Especially not now.
Rafe slowly rubs your clit with his fingers, painfully light, teasing and punishing you all in one. You gasp into his touch, but he doesn't let you move. His grip remains firm on your hips, holding you in place as you ache around his cock, as he can feel your walls clench around him, begging to be fucked.
But he needs to hear you say it.
"Rafe," you choke, and his eyes connect with yours. Your eyes are teary, your breathing is erratic, and you are trying desperately to produce some friction between your legs and give you some semblance of pleasure. "Rafe, move."
"No, princess," he says with a deadly calm, shaking his head. "You want to play mind games with me all night, fine. But tonight, I'm going to fucking hear you say my name." He repeats himself with aggression, his fingers skims across your sensitive nub. "Who. Is. Fucking. You?"
You grip his shoulders, your eyes meeting his, and your core aches painfully. You try to grind yourself against him, trying to produce some friction of your own, but he uses both hands to grab your hips, stilling you in place with a deadly grip you are sure is going to leave a mark.
He shakes his head, firm on getting the answer out of you.
With teary eyes, you beg. "Please, Rafe. Please."
He grins with that self-satisfying charm. He loves it when you finally break your dominance. He loves it more when he can break you.
His thrust begins at a slow rate, still on the edge of punishment, but at least you can feel some friction producing between your legs. You look down at his cock entering and leaving your cunt, the image gratifying, but Rafe roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look back up.
"Look at me." He commands, his voice shallow as the slow thrust is killing him, but he needed to teach you a lesson. "I want you to remember this when you're looking at anyone else. Talking to any other fucking guy. Remember how I make you feel."
You nod frantically. Desperate at this point to say anything to get Rafe to move faster, harder, providing you with your climax. He sees it in your eyes, how he finally got you, that it makes him smile. 
"God, look at you," he chuckles. "You want me to fuck you so bad."
"Yes," you beg, "yes, please. I'll do anything."
"Anything?" He asks again, the proposition is too nice to tease out.
You nod, blinking through the tears. "Anything."
He grins at this exchange of power, when he holds all of it, that he finally relents and quickens his pace. You grip harder on his shoulders as Rafe thrusts into you, rocking his hips against yours.
You claw and moan against his skin, using it as an anchor for all the pain and pleasure ripping through you, and he takes it as a mark of honor. When he lowers one hand between the two of you, using the pad of his thumb to rub small circles around your clit, you see stars float in your vision. 
"I'm coming," you pant against his skin. "God, please, I'm coming."
Rafe's hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, and nods. "Come for me, baby."
When you feel your orgasm hit its all-time high, you slump in exhaustion against his shoulders, while he continues to move in and out of you. It takes a few seconds later before Rafe comes, feeling his hot cum leaking out of you.
He doesn’t remove his cock from your pussy and honestly, you don’t want him to. You want to stay like this for a moment, to catch your breath and come to the dawning realization that this is the best sex of your life. You didn’t want it to end. 
Rafe lays his chin on your small shoulder, pushing your wet hair to the side as he recovers. 
“Be my girl.” He whispers, so quiet, that you thought you imagined it. You weakly pull back, connecting your widened eyes with his. 
"What?"
"Be my girl," he repeats once more, his blue eyes vulnerable and tracing your features to see if there's any hint of rejection on the bay. "I can't fucking stand you with other guys. I don't even want you to say their names. I want you. All of you."
You hesitate. "Rafe..."
"You said you'll do anything." He reminds you.
"You said you don't want to be seen with a Pogue."
He growls. "Fuck what I said," he snaps with a shake of his head, raising his hand to wipe the leftover tears from your face. "I want you. I don’t care about anything else. Just say yes."
You look at him and soften your gaze. You have wanted this, you admit, you wanted him to confess to you that he wants you as much as you want him. But, for a moment, in this brief second, you’re afraid that if you agree you would submit to everything you’ve fought against. The control you tried so hard to retain. 
He sees it. He knows you’re having an internal battle. Using his hand, he cups the side of your face, the heat and comfort of his palm makes you instinctively lean into him. “Please.” He begs softly, giving you one last shred of power. 
With a small chuckle of your own, you finally nod. "Okay."
He grins, and without hesitation, presses another kiss against your lips. This time, it lacks the power and control you two have been fighting for all night but rather is sweet, sensitive and patient. He pushes you back against the mattress, using his arms to hold up his weight. 
When he pulls apart, both of you are out of breath and breathing heavily. He offers you a genuine smile, at how proud he is that you’re his, and uses the pad of his thumb to rub across your flushed cheeks. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 
You blush, waiting to pull away from his touch but Rafe knows you. He grabs a hold of your face, holding you in place so you can’t tear your gaze from him. “I’m serious. Since you’re my girlfriend now, you have to get used to that or else people are going to assume I don’t compliment you enough.” 
You scoff. “You don’t. The only times you say nice things to me is when you’re in me.” 
“Yeah?” He challenges, cocking one of his brows. You nod. “That’s going to change. Prepare for me to shower you with compliments every time I see you,” he says, as he lowers himself and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. “Especially when I’m in you.” 
You roll your eyes, pushing him off as your eyes find the clock in the back of the wall. You didn’t realize how late it was. 
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. Rafe turns to you, his brows knit together in confusion. 
"What?"
"It's almost one am. I promised my parents I was going to go home at eleven."
He glances at the clock, before returning his gaze back to you. "Stay the night."
"What?"
"You said it would save you trouble, right?" You hesitantly nod. "Just stay the night."
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe how much he’s willing to give in now that you’re finally his. Maybe you should’ve made him jealous a long time ago. Your first instinct is to tease him about it, but you decide that you had enough power play. The both of you deserve some rest and plus, sleeping with Rafe would be a comforting feel after the sex you just had. 
When he comes to approach you, settling between your legs as he waits for an answer, you run your hands through his messy blond locks. “Okay.” 
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cry baby
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 7.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smüt, ed*ging, overstimulation, crying during s*ex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.
a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡
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“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”
it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.
you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”
she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.
“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”
natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”
“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”
“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”
you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”
natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”
“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”
nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.
sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.
“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.
he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”
bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.
“i’ll murder you,” you promise.
“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.
you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.
bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“that bad, huh?” he asks.
you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.
“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.
“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”
you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”
“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”
“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”
it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.
“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”
you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”
this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”
the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.
“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.
“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”
if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.
“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.
“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.
“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.
you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”
“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.
“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”
“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.
“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”
bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”
“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.
“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.
you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”
he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”
“what?”
just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.
“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.
his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”
“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”
“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”
“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.
he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”
“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.
“think about it?” he implores.
you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”
he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.
needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.
***
you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?
it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.
but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?
bucky: experience?
you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.
you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?
bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.
you: says you
bucky: and a few other people :)
bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you
you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.
you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…
bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.
your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.
bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?
biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.
it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.
you: okay. we’ll try.
***
it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.
(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)
you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.
you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.
by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.
he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”
“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”
he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.
“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.
bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”
you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.
“nervous?” he wonders curiously.
you shake your head. “not really.”
he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”
“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”
he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.
with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”
“you can’t really promise that, though.”
“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”
you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.
you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.
“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.
you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”
his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.
“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.
“great! finish your wine.”
you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.
“let’s do this,” you say, determined.
bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.
“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”
“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”
“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.
he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.
it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.
he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.
“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”
you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.
his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.
you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”
bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”
your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.
quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.
“my turn,” he says against your lips.
carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.
“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.
shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.
he hums. “beautiful.”
he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.
you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.
“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.
“hm?”
you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.
“please,” you whimper.
“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.
“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.
his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”
“bucky,” you whine.
“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”
when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.
“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.
“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”
he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”
he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.
“may i?”
“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.
he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.
“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”
a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.
~
a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.
“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.
bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.
just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.
your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.
bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”
you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.
“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”
you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.
“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.
he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.
“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”
“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.
he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.
“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.
he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.
you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.
instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.
“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.
bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.
unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.
it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.
bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.
you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.
“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.
you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.
“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”
when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.
“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”
“i literally just did the impossible.”
“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.
he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”
“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.
“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.
you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.
“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.
he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”
well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.
***
except, things kinda change between the two of you.
it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.
another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.
“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”
he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”
“oh,” you said again. “okay.”
so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.
in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?
a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.
but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.
“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“
when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.
“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.
whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.
you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.
“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”
“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.
he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.
“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”
you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.
and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.
after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.
“what do you want to watch?” he asks.
“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”
as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.
“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.
“okay,” you reply after a moment.
he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.
it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.
you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.
he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”
“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.
“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”
you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.
“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.
you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.
the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.
“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.
you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.
you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.
as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.
bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.
hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.
***
bucky: dinner tonight?
you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.
you: sure. what time?
bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.
reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.
bucky: dress nice ;)
with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.
by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.
“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”
he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.
“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”
he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.
this was going to suck.
the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…
conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.
after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.
“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”
oh fuck, here it goes.
“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”
“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.
“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”
did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.
“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”
you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.
bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”
“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.
“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”
“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”
bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”
“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”
bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.
“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”
“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.
he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”
“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”
he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”
your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.
smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.
“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.
“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.
“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”
“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”
“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.
“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”
you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”
“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”
you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”
he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.
“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”
bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”
he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.
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onlyswan · 2 months
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summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k
content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3
playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu
> in which masterlist
note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!
the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.
your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.
jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.
“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”
“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”
“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”
you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”
you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.
you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.
“you said table six.”
“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”
your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.
“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”
“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”
you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.
the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.
“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”
and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.
you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.
with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.
LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.
“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”
it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.
you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.
you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.
you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.
you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.
but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.
much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.
does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?
“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”
he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.
“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”
jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.
you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.
this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.
you feel like you’re being turned inside out.
“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.
your distant stare remains.
he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.
he waits for you to come back to him.
he waits, and waits, and waits.
“jungkook… i want to go home.”
“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”
only for his world to crumble into pieces.
“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”
and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.
“i miss my mom so much.”
the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.
“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.
how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.
“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”
“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”
“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”
jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.
“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”
the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.
you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.
but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.
“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”
jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.
if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.
“jungkook…”
your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.
“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”
and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.
he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.
“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”
he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.
“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”
can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?
“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”
and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.
“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”
you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.
“jungkook…”
“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”
“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”
“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”
the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.
“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”
you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.
“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”
and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.
are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?
he is the only thing you have left to lose.
“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.
you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.
“i love you so much.”
he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.
“let’s go home?”
you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.
there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…
“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.
“what’s wrong?”
you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.
“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”
“baby…”
his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?
you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”
“jungkook, i can do it myself.”
he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”
you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.
“does it hurt a lot?”
“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.
perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.
“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”
“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”
in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?
“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.
you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.
“____, you’re too nice.”
“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”
he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.
“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”
he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.
“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”
“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”
you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.
“wake up, baby. we’re here.”
you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.
“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.
you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.
“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”
“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.
you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.
you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.
you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.
this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.
“you bought another house…”
“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”
your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.
the elevator dings.
he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.
your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.
the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.
beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.
“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.
you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.
“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”
he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.
“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”
he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.
“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”
he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.
“genius, right?”
“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”
“but i’ll be very, very careful!”
“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”
“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”
his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?
he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.
“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”
a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.
“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”
“i can see that.”
“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”
…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”
his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.
“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”
jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.
how long has he been planning this?
“you okay?”
you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”
“this is the kitchen!”
a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.
“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”
“what are you saying? there is something.”
the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.
“oh, that’s still there?”
the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.
“do you want it?”
“it’s not peach.”
“let’s move on then!”
there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.
“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”
he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.
“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”
you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!
“what’s here?”
you reach another hallway beside the living room.
“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”
he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.
“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”
“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.
“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”
you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.
he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.
“let’s stay like this for a while.”
“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.
the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.
“what’s that other room?”
“which one?”
“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”
he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”
“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”
“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”
“don’t make me change my mind.”
he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.
“we have a walk-in closet too!”
“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”
“but i like our small beds.”
“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”
“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”
you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”
“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”
jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.
“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”
“no!”
“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”
“given what more thought?”
“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”
if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.
“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”
“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”
a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.
“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”
“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”
“but i bleed every month.”
“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”
you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”
“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”
“it’s different living together!”
“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”
a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”
your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”
“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”
you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”
“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”
“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”
and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”
“okay?”
“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”
“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”
suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.
“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”
your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.
“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”
jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.
“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”
you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?
“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”
“when did it become a competition?”
“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”
“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”
you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.
“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”
and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.
“are you falling asleep standing up again?”
“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”
“what are we buying?”
your face lights up. “appliances first?”
“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”
as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”
“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”
“just because…”
you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.
“i feel sorry.”
“sorry? for what?”
“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”
“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”
“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”
he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”
a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.
“let’s be happy, baby.”
the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.
you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”
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Honey Girl. Chapter Five.
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Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.7k
Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.
Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.
A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.
It's been three months since you left home.
It's been three months since you saw Bucky.
He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.
He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.
You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.
The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.
Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.
And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.
On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.
You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"This is ridiculous."
Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.
"Good ridiculous?"
She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.
"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."
Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.
"I need these on the menu."
"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."
"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."
"Okay. Fine."
You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.
You know it's because of your Tethering.
Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.
And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.
Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.
It takes time to adjust.
No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.
For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.
For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.
Both are valid. Both are understandable.
You remind yourself of this every day.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."
The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.
"Who is it?"
"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."
Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?
You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.
You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.
He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.
"Hi."
"Hey. Are you the baker here?"
"I am."
He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.
"I'm Rafael."
You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.
"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."
You don't say anything, so he continues.
"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."
He takes a deep breath before continuing.
"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."
You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.
"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."
You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.
You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.
"You're really talented, you know."
"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."
His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.
"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."
"You'd do that for her?"
"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."
"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."
He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.
"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."
He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.
"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."
You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.
"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."
The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,
"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."
His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."
"You guys are married?"
"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."
"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"
You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.
"He's my Dad's best friend."
You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.
"Woah."
"Yeah."
"That... is complicated."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."
Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.
"How did your parents react?"
"They don't know yet."
His eyebrows raise almost comically high.
"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."
"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."
"Understatement of the century," he laughs.
You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.
"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."
"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."
He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.
"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."
"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"
"Sure does."
You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."
"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."
"Thanks, Rafael."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Of course."
That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."
"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."
"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"
"What kind of surprise?"
"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."
"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."
"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."
"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."
"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."
"I know," you smile. "I know."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.
You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.
You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.
You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.
You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.
You know who it is.
A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.
You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.
He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.
He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.
He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.
"You're here."
You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.
"I'm here."
Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.
"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."
He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.
"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.
"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."
"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."
"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."
"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"
He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.
"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."
You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.
"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.
"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."
"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."
"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."
"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."
"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.
"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."
"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.
He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.
"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."
"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."
"Miss you more."
He looks at you, smiling.
"Man, we're the worst."
"Truly."
He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.
It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.
There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.
"Surprise!"
You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.
"Oh my God! You guys!"
She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.
He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.
"I got you something. I hope you like it."
That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.
"Happy Birthday, Mama."
She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.
She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.
"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."
"Missed you. You look beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."
You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.
"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."
You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.
You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The night goes off without a hitch.
You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.
What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.
When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.
"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"
His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.
"I have to."
"Oh yeah?"
"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."
He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.
"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."
"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."
His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.
"One dance," you whisper.
He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.
I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.
Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"That was close!"
Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.
"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."
"Mama, are you sure?"
"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."
"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."
She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.
"Love you both."
"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"
"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"
You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.
"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."
You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.
"It's not the same here without you."
You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.
You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.
"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"
He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.
"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."
"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."
"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."
"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."
He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."
He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.
"Okay. I promise."
You whip your head around to look at him.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."
"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"
"I know. I feel it."
You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.
"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.
"I have. What for?"
"The couch."
You process for a moment before it clicks.
"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."
"No?"
"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."
He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.
You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."
You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.
"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."
Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.
"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."
You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.
Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.
"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"
You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.
"Please, Buck. Anything."
"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."
He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.
"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Yeah?"
"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."
Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.
"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.
You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.
Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.
You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.
He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.
"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."
You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.
He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.
"You good?"
"So good," you grin. "Never better."
"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.
"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."
"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."
You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.
Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.
You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.
"Buck, I-"
"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."
"Need you to move, baby."
He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.
"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."
Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.
He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.
"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."
The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.
Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.
He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.
"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.
"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.
Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.
"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."
You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.
"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.
The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.
Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.
Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.
"I don't want you to go."
The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.
"I don't think I want to go."
He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.
"You have to, baby. It's your dream."
Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.
"You're my dream."
Bucky sniffles, and you continue.
"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."
You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.
"We'll be okay, my honey girl."
You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.
"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.
You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.
You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.
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tag list part one
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miupow · 7 days
Text
. . .꒰ PEEKING . ꒱
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╰┈➤˗ˏˋ kai peeks in on his friend fucking his girlfriend-- little does he know, they're fully aware he's there.
PAIRING ── choi yeonjun x fem!reader x huening kai
GENRE ── pure smut, NSFW MDNI!
WARNINGS ── exhibitionism, semi-public sex, voyuerism, perv!kai, threesome mentions, vaginal sex, spanking, degradation + name calling, mean dom!yeonjun, hair pulling, breath play if you squint
WORDS ── 0.7k
A/N ── i’ve been in a huge writing slump recently despite all of my ideas and this took EMBARRASSINGLY long to write despite how short it is omg. will try to write a few more short drabbles to get inspo back before working on bigger wips :3 hope you enjoy~~
♡⠀⠀⠀ ⠀︵⠀ [ m. list ] ⭑ [ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ]
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guilt and shame weighed heavy in kai’s chest, rotting away at his insides as he pressed his ear to the door, but he just couldn’t stop himself.
he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
the squeaking of a mattress, the dull thud of a headboard against the wall. the slapping of skin on skin, dripping wet and obscene. and moaning— your moaning, rattling around inside of his empty cotton head, so shrill and loud he can almost ignore the other voice moaning too. almost.
“fuck, you’re such a slut!” yeonjun hisses with a cruel laugh, barely audible over your cries of pleasure. “just couldn’t wait for my cock, huh? had to act like a brat ‘n get me to fuck you raw in kai’s bed? nasty girl.”
kai thinks, just for a second, that maybe he should be disgusted at one of his best friends fucking his girlfriend in his bedroom, just a short distance away from where kai and the other boys were watching a movie on the couch… but his cock strained hard against the fly of his jeans, his head swam with the sound, the thought of you. he’s wanted you forever, so close but so unobtainable held possessively in yeonjun’s arms— and there you were, just behind his bedroom door, getting fucked hard and sounding just as debauched and beautiful as he had dreamed you would time and time again.
yeonjun’s words make you whimper, staccato with his thrusts into your dripping pussy. you were so wet that kai could hear your sweet gummy walls squelch around yeonjun’s cock, so slick and loud ringing in his ears— “jjunie!” you gasped, so pretty and pathetic, “slow— slow down!”
both you and kai gasp when a harsh slap echos through the air, no doubt aimed for your pert little ass. the one that’s haunted kai for months now. “shut up, take what i give you,” yeonjun huffs, those wet smacking thrusts growing faster, harder. “be a good girl ‘n just take it, fuck. this is what you wanted, right? wanted me to fuck you where he’d hear?”
you moan, choke and gag around a broken “yes, yes!”, and kai stops cold. his breath grows ragged, and the little gap in the doorway laughs at him, mocks him.
it’s all a little too perfect. staged, even— though that may just be kai’s perfect excuse for why he inches closer, peeks into the bedroom with burning cheeks.
your face is buried in kai’s pillow, hands fisting his blankets as yeonjun plows into you from behind; kai admires the curve of your back, the spanked red globes of your asscheeks ass they jiggle with your boyfriend’s thrusts. yeonjun seems to admire them too, one of veiny hands kneading greedy handfuls as the other presses you into the bed by your neck. “fuck, fuck, you’re so tight, squeezing me so good—!” yeonjun whines, throwing his head back. “you ‘gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over kai’s bed, baby?”
kai’s breath hitches, his hands sweaty as they brace themselves against the doorframe, and the door creaks open just a little bit more. just enough for yeonjun to notice.
when his and kai’s eyes meet, yeonjun just grins, wild in a way that kai had never seen in his friend before. “he’s watching, baby, just like you wanted,” yeonjun coos, sickly sweet, “gonna watch you cum oh my cock.”
despite his hand still holding you down, you lift your head out of the pillows just enough to lock eyes with kai too. pretty tears rolled down your flushed cheeks, so wrecked and ruined, and kai finds himself moaning aloud when you reach out for him with shaking fingers, whimper his name like a prayer.
this is what you wanted, what you planned. Kai’s too shocked to move, to say anything as yeonjun snickers at his dumbfounded, blushing face. he’s still fucking you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you cry out for release.
“she wants you,” he laughs, releasing your throat to grab a fistful of your hair, tug you up to his chest. “we both know how bad you want her— won’t you help her? make her cum? her jjunie’s being mean to her, won’t play with her pussy right… look, she’s even begging.”
he whispers into your ear something that sounds an awful lot like “beg, whore.” kai gulps, so hard it’s almost painful… the pain reminds him that this is real, that this isn’t just another one of his embarrassing wet dreams.
“kai, hyuka, please—“ you hiccup so pitifully, perky breasts bouncing as yeonjun continues to buck up into your wet cunt, and kai just can’t help but give in.
he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty anymore.
630 notes · View notes
tangerinesilk · 8 months
Text
- DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI
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dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.
pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader
rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)
tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!
word count ✷ 1.7k
a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo
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[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]
typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.
dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.
he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.
suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.
ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.
so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.
it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—
"y/n, are you even listening?"
you cleared your throat, "hmm?"
he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."
now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.
you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."
he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"
you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."
dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"
you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.
"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.
its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.
he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.
dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.
soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.
"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.
just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.
your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.
his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.
"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.
he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.
"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"
he sighed, "shit..."
"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.
you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.
his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.
you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.
"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.
his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.
when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.
"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.
"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.
you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.
"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.
"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.
"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.
soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.
you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.
"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.
as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.
he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.
you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.
it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.
you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.
"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.
he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."
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satoruwiki · 2 months
Note
Roommate gojo stealing your plushies to hump them
⊹ ˚˖ ▹ MODERN PROBLEMS, MODERN SOLUTIONS!
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MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI.
content: nsfw; smut; afab!f!reader; pervy!gojo; roommate!au; masturbation
w.c: 0.9k
n/a: somebody get this man a fleshlight before he makes a hole on your stuff 😭lol. any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3 previously on pervy roommate!gojo.
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Since the 'pillow incident,' as you called it, you stopped Satoru from doing your laundry.
"Why? Did I ruin one of your clothes?" He asked, his eyes wide like the ones of a puppy being scolded.
You bit back from saying 'yes,' unsure of how to address the situation, "No, it's just... I've been thinking that maybe it's a little weird for you, a guy, to wash my clothes, y'know?"
"I really appreciate your help, 'toru, but I feel a little awkward to have you wash my underwear. It'd be best if I did it myself."
Doubt gnawed at his mind. Had you seen him without him noticing? If so, when? How could he know? To try to talk about it even in passing would be like walking on a landmine; it would raise suspicions in case his theory was false. Satoru had not perceived any anomaly in your attitude -except for the latter- nor in your relationship with him, so what motivated you to suddenly make such a decision?
Whatever the reason, you had deprived him of a means to yearn for you, as he liked to describe it. Now that he had no reason to enter your room without permission and apparent reason, he must either make do or come up with another idea. You may not have known it yet, but Satoru was persistent and determined.
"Stop! It's not funny!" you giggled, throwing your plushie back at him, "you're gonna mess up my hair. It took me hours to get it right," you turned back to your vanity mirror, finishing your makeup with a fine coat of lip gloss on your lips.
Satoru gave you a funny look. "It did not take you hours," he said incredulously.
"It did, but you would not know that because you're a man, and guys don't know the real struggles of making yourself pretty," you answered matter-of-factly, "I almost had a breakdown getting these fuckers to look even," you pointed to your eyeliner.
"Anyway, I gotta go now. Text me if you're gonna bring a girl here; I wouldn't want to walk on you like last time," you said, heading out.
Satoru rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn that you remembered that little incident. "That was months ago!" you heard before closing the door behind you.
Okay, maybe it wasn't totally an accident; he just wanted to see what would be your reaction if you caught him having sex with another girl. He felt very disappointed when you were so chill about it; it made him feel dumb to think his genius plan would work.
"My god, why does she always remember the embarrassing bits?" Satoru groaned under his breath with shame in his words, bringing his hands to his face, trying to hide from his embarrassment.
Satoru felt a whirlwind of nerves and frustration inside him. He wondered how much longer he could stand hiding his feelings from you. It felt like the more he spent time with you, the harder it got. How much more could he take without you? Without embracing your silky soft lips against his, without exploring the curves of your body and discovering what makes you reach ecstasy, without marking your skin with tokens of love and hearing those honey-sweet sounds that ring like an unparalleled symphony to his ears.
"Fuck," Satoru whined, closing his lips shut to stifle his sounds as he palmed his pulsing hard cock over his tented pants, his mind wandering off in libidinous places. 
Satoru cursed; he couldn't use your pillow or your underwear to relieve his cock, not without risking your suspicions raising. He moaned in discomfort; he needed something that belonged to you (or that at least had your scent on), or he couldn't tame down his libido.
His hand brushed against the soft texture of the plushie, causing his eyes to pry open. He gazed at the cuddly plush creature and hesitated; should he profane something so adorable? It still had traces of your perfume on it...
He hoped you could forgive him if you ever find out what happened, he implored mentally, inhaling your fragrance from the poor cuddly toy. Soft whimpers escaped him, feeling close... to you. Sometimes, he liked to pretend you were watching him or were actively participating, that his hand wasn't his and was your warm fingers palming his cock instead, talking him through it with that velvety voice of yours. "Fuck, yes baby, I love you so, so much," he babbled, grinding over the soft toy.
Satoru hovered over the plushie and humped it with abandon, the wet patch on his pants getting larger and larger the more he sought friction with the inanimate toy and chased his climax. He wrinkled the sheets underneath him by fisting them tightly, panting and babbling nonsense about you and the things he'd do to you if you just gave him a chance.
His muscles tensed and his body writhed, his orgasm drawing a strangled noise out of him. Satoru let his body plop on the mattress, his chest heaving and eyes lidded, blissed out and tired. His gaze slowly drifted to the toy in his hand, and he mentally cursed himself, watching it now soiled with translucent, slimy fluid.
"Smells like detergent, did you clean it?" You asked, sniffing on the toy that usually sat on your bed, now smelling like fresh linen instead of its usual scent.
Satoru twiddled his fingers, giving you an apologetic look. "Yeah, sorry, I accidentally spilled something on it."
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n3llieelle · 11 months
Text
A Sloppy First With Carlos?
Pairings: Carlos Oliveira x Fem! Reader
Summary: You have been dating Carlos for quite some time and finally decide to let him claim you as his own, but it is more like some sloppy sex.
Cw. Smut (nsfw), p in v, praise, virgin reader gets their first time wit carlos, dom carlos?, some begging, needy/desperate reader, a bit body worship if you squint ur eyes just a bit, possessive & a bit of cocky carlos, relationship had already been established yet we skipping to the part of where he just gives u a sloppy first time just to enjoy every moment of him inside you! This man is gonna make you a milf after he’s done fr fr want u to be the momma to his kids. Some fluff at the end there is def aftercare but I got too lazy to write it….
A/N: I’ve never written for Carlos before, so this is my first time writing for him and feel free to give me feedback!
SMUT AHEAD!! MINORS DNI!
Carlos Oliveira is definitely a charming guy when it came to women, but that all changed when you came into his life. He became so tough and cocky around you and others that it made him the kind of guy who didn’t let himself be vulnerable in front of people. It also caused you to fall for him a little bit faster. That was exactly what you wanted. Someone strong, and not afraid of showing it. The only problem with your choice was that he wasn’t exactly someone to get along with very well and was even more of an asshole than he already was.
Not something you expected from a man like that. But if it meant you could feel secure in his arms, then so be it. You could live with any kind of attitude. If he just wanted to keep you safe then so be it. You wouldn’t mind at all, actually. You enjoyed being near him, even if it made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You thought his roughness was sexy, even if you were slightly scared of him sometimes. And as long as there wasn’t going to be too much violence in the future, maybe you would be able to handle things better. Just give him some time, yet It wasn’t like you couldn’t deal with the bad side of him.
I mean he could be a total dickhead at times, sure, but you could tolerate that, too. He still respected you, afterall, and that was what really mattered. As long as you were happy and satisfied in his arms. And you had been that all this time. All your years of dating with a guy like Carlos Olivera didn’t go wrong. He treated you right, despite your flaws and his ego.
His ego brings out the best in him wether it’s in bed or out of bed, so there is no doubt about what you saw with him in bed that night. He was absolutely gentle, but rough when he kisses you sloppily, his hands firm when they roamed your body, and he took his pleasure in making you squirm underneath him. His tongue is hot and insistent in licking every inch of your skin and his fingers are rough and warm when they caress your breasts through the thin cotton fabric of your tight dress. And his eyes. Oh, Carlos’ eyes looked as if they were dark pools filled with lust and possessiveness. Without hesitation he took off his pants dropping them to the floor, his erection already trying to poke out the side of his boxers. You tried to take his boxers off although he had prioritized in spreading your legs apart and placed his hard member between them, foremost, further apart.
Fingers had trailed straight under the waistband of your dress while his hands started ripping your dress off, and your bra followed. With quick movements he tore the straps and panties away leaving you bare beneath his gaze, completely naked from head to toe. His lips left yours. Carlos began to apply lube to his hardened and throbbing cock, before slowly inserting it inside you, setting a slow movement in and out of you in a way that was torturous in itself. You whimpered from the sensation, but his grip on your hips tightened making the pain go away momentarily. Sloppily beginning to thrust into you, his pace quickened until he hit a certain spot that made you scream with pleasure. “Oh, God...” you moaned breathlessly before closing your eyes.
You never felt that way with anyone else. This is not your first time to say the least, but definitely better than masturbation to say the least. It made you feel so incredibly sensitive that it left you weak, yet at the same time it made you feel powerful and desirable. “That’s my girl…” he growled in a deep voice, grabbing one of your wrists and positioning it over your head as he continued hitting your sweet spot with his thick shaft. You moaned again while tears filled your eyes from the intense pleasure he gave you.
Your breathing started becoming erratic as he kept slamming his heavy cock into you with such force. He held your face, placing soft kisses all over your exposed cheeks and neck, causing goosebumps to appear on your flesh. “You feel so good, baby...” he whispered against your ear. Soon following after with, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum if you keep this up...”
“Don’t stop...” you begged breathless, feeling a shiver go down your spine as Carlos continued pumping his stiffening cock inside you. He kept pressing harder, making you cry out and bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from begging for mercy. “Please don’t stop….” You could hear your own voice quiver slightly, almost like a sob. In a moment you lost your restraint, and threw your head back, arching your back as you screamed loudly. A loud moan escaped your mouth as waves of ecstasy washed over you, and your muscles started tingling from his relentless thrusts into you.
He was getting close, you could tell, and soon he won't hold himself anymore. “Carlos…” you murmured, unable to finish your sentence because your breath was short and labored, and your voice was hoarse from screaming out.
You needed him to get you to your climax and come, now, now, now, you thought.
“Please..please…” you whimpered, feeling your body shaking with both excitement and desperation. Suddenly, everything came rushing in.
The orgasm. Carlos.
Your surroundings. Carlos’ name coming out of your mouth, His scent surrounding your whole being. You felt as if you were being penetrated by a monstrous cock very sloppily, even though you were. His warm and hard cock rubbing against your inner walls in time with his frantic thrusts. “Almost there… ah- hold out a little longer, baby…” Carlos grunted out of breath, panting heavily, his entire body trembling. Your breathing was starting to come out ragged as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you climaxed once again. “That’s it, baby… Come for me…” The next few minutes passed by in a blur, each second passing with such intensity it was overwhelming you. Carlos finally stopped after a while, releasing his cum inside you.
Your throat was sore and raw from screaming and your muscles were tense and sore from all the stretching, while your back was arched which he forced you to do as your climax hit. Carlos laid beside you and pulled the sheets up around you as he kissed your temple. "Are you alright?" Your mind was fuzzy as you nodded and snuggled closer into his chest. "...Yeah," was your reply, barely above a whisper. Your eyelids were glued shut, as you struggled to stay awake.
Carlos chuckled softly. "Did I fuck you that hard?" You shook your head and mumbled in reply that you loved how wild he got. "Mmm...you're welcome." After a while you felt tired and sleep began creeping onto your consciousness. Carlos seemed to sense this and wrapped his arms tightly around you to keep you warm as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek. "Get some rest, baby," he said quietly. You hummed in response as you relaxed into his hold, letting yourself drift off to sleep.
You were so tired that you were able to ignore the sound of heavy breathing, but it eventually woke you up when the covers moved slightly. Opening your eyes, and noticing your boyfriend staring at you intently. "Hey...sorry did I wake you up? Go back to sleep..." he whispered kissing the top of your head as he ran his hands gently through your hair. You buried your face deeper into his chest, and let out a small sigh as you cuddled up to his chest. Carlos laughed again, running his hand through your hair one last time before turning off the light with his other hand and lying down behind you, holding you tightly.
"I love you so much..." he said softly, kissing the crown of your head gently.
"Goodnight..." you breathed out before finally closing your eyes and falling asleep, enjoying the soothing warmth of his embrace.
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switchypanic · 3 months
Text
Wishful Thinking || A 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic (100 Follower Special)
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Summary: Vox's obsession with Alastor is no secret, but the true extent and nature of said obsession is an entirely different story. As his thoughts grow increasingly consumed by his rival, Vox finds it harder and harder to think about anything else, ultimately coming to a head with a very interesting discovery.
Content Warnings: Canon-typical language, brief mild violence, use of restraints, a lil' bit of blackmail, and Vox being a thirsty bitch for Alastor (because we love a good dose of one-sided attraction). Also, not really a warning, but any scenes that take place in somebody's head are in blue and italics (you'll see what I mean as you read).
Word Count: 3,669 words.
Vox couldn't fucking stand Alastor.
His stupid smile, his stupid voice, those stupid powers that allowed him to crush anyone in his way like an insect. The man was infuriating, always acting so calm and in control, even after Vox managed to get the drop on him that fateful day seven years ago. It was like nothing could touch him in any MEANINGFUL way, a fact that frustrated Vox to no end.
Yes, Alastor was nothing but a big pain in the ass, constantly doing anything in his power to screw with Vox, oftentimes broadcasting it for the entirety of Pride to witness.
Worst of all was the way that he infiltrated Vox's processor, filling his head with fantasies he had no way of controlling without shutting himself down completely. And it wasn't even intentional! That bastard had no idea what he was doing, or if he did, he gave no indication of it! No, he just kept on smiling that stupid grin, making those passive aggressive remarks, acting like he wasn't the thing consuming Vox's mind nearly twenty-four hours a day.
Vox watched the surveillance footage captured earlier that morning, feeling his breath hitch at the staticky image being displayed. He could just barely make out Alastor's form through the distortion (another thing that Vox hated about him; the bastard made it damn near impossible to get a clear image of him), standing outside the doors of little Princess Morningstar's hotel discussing something unintelligible with that winged cat sinner who often hung around him.
Through the grainy audio, he could just make out Alastor barking out a laugh, the sound itself laced with static and radio interference. The deer demon's shoulders shook, his ears pinning back slightly as he chortled, his companion letting out an irritated huff in response.
How many times had Vox watched the clip now? He had honestly lost count. He didn't know why he kept returning to that particular moment of footage; nothing particularly useful or interesting was occurring. Just a regular conversation, from what he could tell. There was just...something in the other overlord's moment of mirth that captured his full attention, setting something ablaze within the TV demon.
More; he wanted to hear more.
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The lights flickered, the sound of screeching radio filling the air, accompanied by something entirely different.
Giggling, pure and hysterical.
Alastor lurched forwards, hands latched onto Vox's wrists as he tried to lean forward and away from the other demon, who held him firmly against his chest. "Rehehehehelease me at ohohohohonce!" The usually composed overlord was a mess, face tinted a bright shade of red, eyes crinkled with mirth as another wave of snickers shook his frame. "Shihihihihihihit!"
Vox chuckled, leaning forward to croon into Alastor's ear, which immediately flicked at the feeling of the other's warm breath. "What's the matter, old man? Too ticklish?" He sang, smirk widening. "What would the public think, knowing the famed Radio Demon is so...sensitive..." He growled the last part, low and teasing, resulting in a shriek of microphone feedback from Alastor. "Perhaps I should turn on some of my cameras, hm? I doubt you could focus on messing with them while your giggling so hard. I could let all of Hell know just how much of a ticklish little-"
Vox blinked, pulled from his daydream by a raised brow from Velvette. "Vox, are you listening to me? This is important shit! I need to make sure you're on top of the advertisements for my new collection if we are going to see any substantial sales!"
Vox cleared his throat, trying to urge his screen to COOL THE FUCK DOWN before his flusteredness became obvious. "Apologies, I seem to have gotten distracted. You were saying, my sweet?"
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Vox chuckled, watching his rival's squirming form, bound to the chair with the purest grade of angelic steel money could buy.
Only the best for this occasion.
"Well, well! Look what the cat dragged in!" Vox laughed, walking in circles around Alastor, taking in every detail of the scene before him. He was going to relish thing; savor it. He had waited so long to have the other at his mercy, and now he was going to take his sweet time and ENJOY the fruits of his labor. "You've lost your touch, old timer! It was far too easy to catch you in my little trap."
Alastor's eyes narrowed, grin tightening in a clear show of displeasure. "You would do well to remember who you are speaking to." He retorted, chin raising defiantly as Vox finally stopped in front of him.
"Oho, I remember good and well. I'm talking to the prick who has done nothing but make my life harder ever since he arrived here, and I'm going to see to it you feel every second of what's coming next." He leaned forward, locking eyes with the other overlord as he gave a grin of his own, his far more devious. "Little buck."
Vox's hand's shot out, latching onto Alastor's ribcage and beginning to claw at the boney torso. Alastor's breath hitched, his eyes widening with alarm. His grin became more strained as he jerked forward, trying to curl inwards on himself. His breathing became sporadic, lips sealed shot as a wobbly, genuine smile began to curl at the corners of his mouth. "F-Fuhuhuck!"
The TV demon laughed lowly. "Trying to hold out, are we? We'll see how long that lasts..."
Vox awoke with a start, his screen turning on as he bolted up in bed. His eyes were wide, immediately flicking over to Valentino, who lay beside him. Thankfully, the moth was still sound asleep, snoring loudly without a care in the world. Vox sighed, running a hand across his face and feeling the heat of a blush under his palm.
Damn it, this was starting to get out of control!
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Vox was going mad! No matter how hard he tried to clear his thoughts, they always returned back to those deep, hidden desires playing out over and over in his processor. He found himself constantly thinking about Alastor's smile, his laugh, the prospect of taking him down with a few well placed squeezes or prods. To make matters worse, Vox was having a hard time FUNCTIONING at work because of this, and he could tell the other Vees were starting to catch on that something was up.
The TV demon rung his hands together, pacing back and forth in his private office. He had to find a solution FAST or he was royally screwed!
'Damn you, Alastor!’ Vox thought, a small growl slipping out as he rubbed his forehead, flopping into his chair and turning to face one of the many spying monitors plastered to the wall. "Pull up what we have on the Hazbin Hotel." He grumbled, giving in to his urge to spy on his rival once more. Inside, he secretly hoped to catch another fleeting moment of mirth from Alastor, even if it was just a chuckle.
Three monitors came to life, showing the hotel from various angles, with one focused directly on the front entrance. Aside from his...ongoing interest in the Radio Demon, Vox liked to keep tabs on who was going in and out of the hotel, just to make sure the princess wasn't gaining any more powerful allies he needed to know about. The scene was serene, or at least as serene as a live feed of Hell COULD be, nothing out of place. It seemed luck wasn't on Vox's side, as Alastor was nowhere to be seen. The TV host felt his eye twitch in irritation, disappointment stirring within him.
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"You motherfucker! This is a brand new suit!" Vox yelled angrily as Alastor dodged another of his attempts to strike him.
The Radio Demon let out an amused chuckle (though unfortunately not the kind of laugh Vox had been secretly craving), one flick of his microphone sending three tentacles darting at Vox from different directions, which the other barely managed to avoid. "Really? Could have fooled me with how tacky and outdated it looks." The redhead retorted smugly.
"Oh, fuck you! I'll wipe that shit-eating grin off your face!" Vox retorted, giving up on using his powers in favor of lunging for the deer demon himself.
Alastor took a step back, Vox's claws just barely grazing the sides of his neck. The radio host opened his mouth, as if to make another snide remark, but whatever he said died in his throat and was replaced by a startled crack of microphone feedback. The two demons froze, eyes widened as they stared at each other wordless for a moment.
"What the fuck was-" Vox started, but in the blink of an eye, Alastor was gone and their fight was seemingly over.
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"I mean, seriously?! What the fuck WAS that?!" Vox asked himself, finding himself pacing around his private surveillance room once more. "He never runs from a fight with me! Shit, he only ran from Adam because he was about to fucking die! He was nowhere near that point today!"
Did Vox somehow managed to hurt him? No, he had thrown far worse at the Radio Demon before without leaving so much as a scratch. He had BARELY touched him, and even with his claws, it couldn't have possibly hurt. So what...
The TV demon stopped, eyes shooting wide open as his breath quickened. No...no fucking way...
Alastor was ticklish. Not just in Vox's mind's eye, not just in his secret fantasies. He was actually, tangibly ticklish, and going from the reaction one brief touch had garnered, horrifically so.
Vox's processor raced at the prospect. He had been daydreaming about turning the other overlord into a cackling puddle, wheezing for mercy through a cracked voice, but he had never actually imagined it was possible! Vox got the feeling this discover was only going to make his daydreaming problem worse, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.
Alastor was TICKLISH...
'There has to be some way I can...some trick I can pull to...' Vox's mind raced, barely able to finish a sentence. He HAD to have the other now, even if just for a brief instance. Vox NEEDED to feel that high of reducing his mortal enemy to giggling shambles; to know what it felt like to be the one to finally BREAK the feared Radio Demon. But how?
Obviously the heat of battle wasn't the best place, though it would ensure a public audience to witness his victory. He doubted Alastor would agree to a private meeting, especially after their most recent fight. And there was CERTAINLY no way Vox was going to lower himself enough to go crawling to Princess Morningstar's little hotel. No, Vox was going to have to come up with another solution.
"Something on your mind?" A voice purred from behind him, low and dangerous. Vox yelped, whipping around with widened eyes. From one of the darkened corners of the room, Alastor seeped out of the shadows, grin ever present but appearing more strained than usual. Vox felt a nervous lump form in his throat.
"What the fuck?! How did you even get in here?!" He yelled, immediately moving to hit the alarm button on his control console, only to find his wrist being suddenly restrained by a shadowy tentacle sprouting from the floor.
"Ah, ah!" Alastor tutted, taking a few steps forward. "None of that. I just want to talk." He cocked his head to the side. "And as for how I got in, let's just say your security is shockingly terrible for a demon of your status."
Vox's eyes narrowed. "If you're going to kill me, at least make it quick." He growled, attempting to put on a brave face and save a bit of his pride.
"Kill you? Why, I'm planning to do no such thing, at least not today! After all, to defeat one's rival in such a disgraceful, sneaky manner would not be becoming of either of us, would it?" Alastor chuckled, moving closer to Vox as another tentacle grabbed ahold of his other wrist, keeping the TV demon rooted firmly in place. A flash of green magic briefly passed over Alastor's eyes as he chuckled. "Though it would be quite easy for me to do so with you sooo defenseless."
Vox's brows furrowed in confusion. "Then why the hell are you here?"
"Like I said, I just want to talk." Alastor leaned forward, maintain eye contact with the shorter demon. "To ensure that you keep your trap shut about matters which do not concern you."
"What are you going on about?" Vox sighed, clearly irritated by the other's continued vagueness. He continued to stare at the other demon, who merely continued to watch him wordlessly, before it dawned on him. "You're worried I'm gonna tell somebody you're fucking ticklish?"
Alastor's eye gave the slightest twitch. "Sensitive." He corrected.
"I'm pretty sure you're ticklish." Vox retorted, taking some delight in his rival's clear displeasure. "And what makes you think holding me hostage in my own office would stop me from mentioning it during my next broadcast? You can't keep me like this forever."
The sound of microphone feedback briefly overtook the air around him, making Vox wince at the volume and pitch. "No, I can't keep you here indefinitely, but I can provide you with a little incentive to keep your trap shut." One of the tentacles coiled further down Vox's arm, the end gently brushing over the trapped overlord's armpit. Vox tensed, breath hitching as his eyes grew wide as saucers. "You see, don't think I haven't noticed your own sensitivity, Vox. In fact, I've known about it for some time."
Shit.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about! Get the fuck away from me!" Vox stammered, eyes locked onto the other's devious smirk.
"Oh, come now, don't be shy! It's not as if it was especially hard to find out about! We have fought so often, categorizing your little weak points was easy enough to accomplish!" Alastor took a step closer as the shadowy tentacle began to stroke Vox's armpit more firmly, slowly moving up and down in an agonizingly teasy motion. "I will admit, it took me some time to figure out why you often flinched at the slightest of touches during battle. However, all it took was witnessing one little tickle fight at the hotel to make everything fall into place."
Another of Alastor's tentacle slipped up, beginning to tweak at Vox's side, causing him to bite down on his lip in a desperate attempt to hold back snickers. "Those weren't the reactions of a man barely avoiding a fatal blow, those were the reactions of a man trying oh so hard to keep from giggling."
Vox felt his screen heating more and more by the second, both from embarrassment and the effort to keep his laughter bottled up. What the fuck was happening?! How was this real life?! The TV demon lurched forward, straining against the restrains as a particularly well-placed prod to his hipbone pulled a soft snort out of him. "Shuhuhut the fuck up!"
"Being stubborn, are we? I expected nothing less." Alastor chuckled, clearly amused. "Perhaps I should take a page from Angel Dust's playbook then, hm?" The other overlord suddenly materialized behind Vox, melting from the shadows and resting a clawed hand on the back of Vox's head. His grip tightened, pulling Vox's head backwards as he crooned into his ear. "Coochie coochie coo..."
Vox just about short circuited at that, the sound of loud television static filling the air. As Alastor's free hand suddenly dug into his stomach, he couldn't hold back any longer, bursting into a wave of panicked giggles. "Ohohohoho shihihihihihit!" The flood gates had opened, and Vox had no hope of closing them again, no matter how hard he tried.
"Lovely." Alastor seemed quite pleased with himself, clawed fingers scribbling across his rival's exposed midriff as the tentacles (thankfully) stopped their own attacks, now focusing on holding the TV demon nice and still.
"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Lehehehehet mehehehe go!" Vox tried to sound threatening, he really did, but that was impossible when every word was laced with titters. He squirmed desperately, attempting to curl inwards and protect his sensitive torso, but the restraints held firm. His voice raised in pitch as Alastor zeroed in on his upper stomach, just below the ribs, refusing to acknowledge the borderline squeal he made.
"And why would I do that? I have you right where I want you; nice and helpless..." There was a low growl to Alastor's words, both threatening and teasing in the most awful of ways, sending Vox further spiraling into flusteredness. His claws began to slowly inch upwards, like a spider slowly climbing towards prey trapped in its web. "From what I have gathered, your ribs seem to be an area you're quite desperate to defend during our little fights. I wonder why that could be, hm?"
The TV host began shaking his head furiously. "Dooohohon't yohohohou fucking dahahahahare! I'll kihihihihihihill you!" He snorted, the sound of television static increasing ever so slightly.
"Oops, too late!" Alastor's claws dug in, beginning to rake across Vox's rib cage slowly, moving up to just below the armpits before cascading back down to just above the stomach.
Vox screeched, thrashing becoming downright desperate as he threw his head back with laughter. "NOHOHOHOHOHOOO! OHOHOHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAHAHAD, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!" His cooling systems had kicked in, the fans whirling loudly as they attempted to cool down his quickly heating form. "NAHAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!"
Alastor chuckled devilishly. "Why Vox, you should know better! Everyone knows that saying "not there" only makes the attack want to exploit that spot even more." He hummed, mockingly pretending to think. "Perhaps you DID know, and you're just enjoying this so much you want me to keep going? Is that it?"
The other overlord let out a startled squeal at the feeling of something fiddling with his antenna; when had ANOTHER tentacle popped up?!
Vox face felt like it was on fire from the teasing, his laughter pitching up with flustered desperation. "SHUHUHUHUT THE FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK UP! THAHAHAHAT'S NOHOHOHOHOT TRUE!" He denied vehemently, knees starting to go weak. After a moment, his legs gave out, but instead of slumping to the floor, Vox found himself being held up by Alastor's sentient shadow. The creature's grin widened, becoming downright feral as it let out an amused cackle at his plight.
"Whatever you say, old pal! Now, if you REALLY want this to stop, you will agree to keep what you discovered today between us alone." Alastor rested his chin on Vox's shoulder, the touch shooting a bigger shock through his nervous system than any tickling ever could. "Do we have a deal?"
Vox's processor was racing a thousand miles a minute. Fuck, why was this actually fucking fun?! What was wrong with him?! He knew he should have hated it; the powerlessness, the teasing, the terror of being so utterly defenseless in front of his greatest rival. Yet...he didn't hate it, a fact he found more flustering than any tease Alastor could have pulled out of his ass.
No, Vox did NOT want it to stop.
Still, if Vox DIDN'T give in, it would only confirm the assumption deer demon had so accurately deduced, and he wasn't sure his heart would be able to take the cruel, crooning teases Alastor would no doubt come up with upon such a revelation. When weighing the humiliation of yielding to Alastor to the humiliation of admitting that he was ENJOYING getting tickled to the brink of his sanity, Vox would take the former any day.
"FIHIHIHIHINE, HOHOHOHOHOLY SHIHIHIHIHIT! DEAL, DEHEHEHEHEEEEAL!" He screeched, a little wheeze slipping out as one of the tentacles tugged on his sensitive antenna. "JUHUHUST STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP, YOU BAHAHAHAHASTARD!"
As soon as those words were uttered, all touch disappeared, and Alastor reappeared a few feet in front of Vox. The overlord collapsed against his surveillance console, panting as his fans worked overtime to cool his body down. He shook with residual titters, his sharp-toothed grin nearly slipping his screen in two.
"There, was that so hard?" Alastor purred, sharing a smug grin with his shadow. "Now, I expect you to hold to our deal, otherwise I will have to take this little audio recording and make it the center of my next broadcast!" The deer demon twirled his cane, gazing at it and humming as Vox's eyes shot open.
"What now?"
Alastor scoffed. "Oh, please! Did you really think I would take you on your word alone that you would stay silent? I knew you would not make a soul deal with me over it, so I took matters into my own hands." The other sinner explained. "See, my microphone was recording our little interaction the whole time, minus the parts about my own...shortcomings. Think of it as insurance; it will not be released to the public as long as you behave yourself!"
Vox's face exploded into a bright blush blush. "Wait, that wasn't part of the fucking-"
"Oops, I'm afraid I have another engagement to attend to! Until we meet again!" Alastor cut him off, melting back into the shadows and disappearing from sight before Vox could finish his sentence. The TV host growled, flopping into his chair. His claws dug into the armrests, slicing into the slight padding. That prick! He couldn't just-
The overlord sighed in defeat after a moment, eyes closing as his breathing slowly returned to normal and his fans kicked off. He could still feel those claws scratching at his ribs, setting his nervous system alight with ticklish fire. He could still hear that voice, singing those awful, teasing words into his ear. He could still feel his limbs strain against the tentacle's hold, preventing him from squirming away no matter how hard he tried. Vox swallowed, feeling his blush returning full force.
He might have a different daydream to worry about now...
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nomadwrites · 3 months
Text
bubblegum pink ⋆˚✿
gojo satoru
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summary ⋆୨୧⋆ in which you've managed to convince the greatest jujutsu sorcerer of your time into getting pink highlights. what could go wrong? a lot, you learn.
contents ⋆୨୧⋆ spoilers!, pure fluff & rusty writing
notes ⋆୨୧⋆ let's start off easy, shall we? feedback is most certainly welcome & would be much appreciated! enjoy ₊˚ෆ
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"come on, it's only temporary!"
"not a chance! do you know how much time and effort i put into caring for these lustrous locks?"
"it'll grow out anyways," you huff, setting down the contents of the hair dye kit on the bathroom counter. "and here i thought you were the adventurous type."
"adventure is one thing, but this? this would be an act of vandalism," satoru feigns a look of betrayal, silver lashes framing his wide blue orbs, "like defacing the mona lisa."
you gasp in exaggeration, clasping a hand over your mouth. if there was one thing on the boy’s long list of things he loved about you, it'd be your ability to keep up with his personality.
"sure. but don't you get tired of always having the same old hairstyle? maybe it'd be nice to switch it up every now and then, yknow?"
"i hardly doubt anyone could ever get tired of this." he gestures to himself, standing tall, a smirk gracing his features.
“you’re insufferable.”
“and you love that about me.”
you do your best to hide the smile that threatens to break free, chewing on your bottom lip. “oh but you’d look absolutely gorgeous,” you plead, voice dripping with honey as you cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the countertop. you bat your lashes at him, round doe eyes peering into sparkling azure pools.
the look you give him makes his heart do flips and his gaze softens ever so slightly. he can't say no to you, not when you're gazing up at him with those puppy-dog eyes of yours. you’re perfectly aware of the effect you have on him, but that’s not to say you’d ever take advantage of him. if anything, you’re just as smitten.
satoru adores gratifying you, answering to your every beck and call, no matter the request, even if they can be a little odd at times. who was he to deny you anything when you looked so entrancing?
he pretends to ponder, drumming his fingers along the cool ceramic of the sink counter. if you're quiet enough, you might hear the way the gears in his head shift as he puts on a show of overtly dramatised deliberation. it almost makes you snort, but after a minute or two of silence, he caves in, shoulders slumping.
"if it makes you happy," he breathes, flicking his gaze back to you as you perk up with excitement, light practically radiating off of you. he might come to regret this in a few hours, but when he sees the way your eyes sparkle with a radiance that seems so pure, he thinks it won’t be so bad. after all, it is only temporary.
"just so i get to hear it again," he pauses, slender fingers intertwining with yours as he guides you over to him and plops down onto the closed seat of the toilet, long legs splayed on either side of you. "you think i'm gorgeous?"
“not quite yet,” you say, running your fingers through his silver locks, admiring the soft lavender undertones. his glasses are sitting just above the tip of his nose, brilliant sapphire depths on full display. no matter how many times you’ve looked him in the eye,, it always manages to knock the air out of your lungs. “i’ll see what i can do.”
“aren’t you a sweetheart?”
“i am.”
he exhales, humming in agreement as he relaxes under your touch and relishes in the scent of your skin, not the fragrance of perfume or shampoo, but you.
this is nice, you think. free time has always been hard to come by, even more so for gojo than you. things had changed after the star plasma vessel incident. he had changed, and although he did his best to hide it, you knew better. you were there to ground him, to remind him of his humanity and his purpose for becoming a sorcerer. you were there to keep him afloat.
"so!" you clap, startling him enough to knock his glasses askew, "let's get started!"
"booo," he pouts, like some child. he likes to think you're like this because of him, that you've spent so much time with him you've essentially become a miniature satoru gojo. the thought of it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something he really only feels with you, despite how popular he is with people.
you get to work, skimming through the pamphlet of instructions. satoru attempts to help you, mostly by staring whilst seated on the toilet, questioning if you really knew what you were doing. you stick out your tongue at him as did he, tugging on his lower eyelid.
you manage to end up with a bowl of bright pink sludge, the scent of chemicals wafting through the enclosed space of your bathroom. satoru grimaces, both at the smell and how awfully pigmented the dye seemed, cautiously eyeing the mixture held between your gloved hands.
“no turning back now.”
“you’re sure this is temporary?”
“mhmm!” you say, throwing a towel over his shoulders to shield his black linen shirt from any stray drops of hair dye. contrary to popular belief, the all-powerful jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t make use of his infinity when there was no real need to, his reasoning something akin to him wanting to experience moments of normalcy with those close to him.
“i’m great aren’t i? strong, handsome with a heart of gold,” he’d said, standing in akimbo.
“in an alternate universe, sure.”
you smile at the memory, recalling the way he tutted when you responded, earning chuckles from both shoko and geto.
“y’know on second thought–” satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “maybe blue would be a better option? make my eyes pop and all that,” he stalls, turning to look at you.
“it’s not gonna be this bright toru, it’ll be a lot lighter once we rinse you off. besides, i’ve only got pink right now–“
“great! so we should–“
“but you already said we could–“
and you’re both tugging, trying to grab ahold of the bowl. “toru stop it! you’re gonna–“
splat.
"ah," he blinks.
silence falls between the both of you, letting the sound of droplets hitting the floor echo loud in your ears. you’re wide eyed in disbelief, and it takes you a moment before you press your lips together in a futile attempt to conceal the snort that bubbles from your throat.
———————-
“don’t you look pretty?” geto teases, snapping a photo of satoru’s lifeless body as he sits limp at his desk, looking as if his soul had left his body. you’re sure it did last night after rinsing him off in the shower, fully clothed, the sight of him drenched in fuchsia finding a permanent home in your brain. shoko echoes after the raven-haired boy, resting her head on a closed fist.
satoru’s once moonlit hair now a splotchy mess of soft pink, the hair dye staining his eyebrows an even brighter shade of bubblegum. you had to practically drag him out the bathroom by the feet afterward.
“what have you done?” he whined, voice breaking.
“me?!” you gasped, “you had a part to play in this too!”
it was a miracle he’d even changed out of his wet clothes, albeit it taking around an hour or so. you’re sure he laid on the floor for the rest of the night after you’d left, geto being the first to find him in the exact same position this morning. thankfully, you hadn’t had to drag him to class.
at the very least, this would be another fond memory you’d share together.
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navybrat817 · 4 months
Note
Navy. We got to cuddle with our florist. Are we also going to cuddle with our tattoo artist? 🥺
Of course, nonnie.
Traditions and Innovation
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader
Summary: Bucky wants to kiss you under the mistletoe, but it doesn't happen in the traditional sense.
Word Count: Over 1.7k
Warnings: Kissing, humor, tension, teasing, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
Previous Part of AU: Rules and Chaos
A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I'm only capable of ficlets lately, but enjoy some Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics and Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo .Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“My poor, shivering Sugar. Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up in no time,” Bucky said as he curled a hand around your hip, feeling him smile when he brushed a kiss against your temple. “It’s a tough job, but I’ll do it.”
An icy breeze crept into your bones through your coat when you rushed over to the tattoo parlor minutes ago, earning a sympathetic gaze from Jake when you walked through the door. It was one of the coldest days you could remember and you couldn’t get rid of the chill until Bucky offered to cuddle with you on the couch in the break room. You weren’t about to turn down his generous offer.
Especially since the guys made the room bright and cozy for the holidays with twinkling lights.
“Yeah, I really had to twist your arm to snuggle with me,” you teased, your heart thudding as you tilted your head back and let his lips skim along the column of your neck. It was almost criminal how soft his kisses were. “And I have no doubt in your abilities, Hottie.”
The man was built like a furnace, his firm body seeping warmth into yours as he held you in his embrace. Heat continued to pulse through your veins as he chuckled low and deep. “If you ever doubt my abilities in anything, I won’t hesitate to tie you to my bed and prove you wrong,” he promised, his voice even lower as it slipped into something more intimate.
You shivered for an entirely different reason now, threading your fingers through his hair and gripping them before his mouth could reach your chest. It earned you a throaty groan in response, one that nearly had you crawling in his lap. Somehow you managed to stop yourself.
“We can’t get too carried away,” you said, as much as you wanted to. You had to get back to your shop and he had a client coming in for a touch-up shortly. “Don’t give me that look,” you half begged, trying to ignore how your insides clenched when he lifted his head and gave you a glimpse of his darkened eyes.
How could you ever feel cold under that heated stare?
“But I want some sugar, Sugar,” he purred, one hand coming up to gently grasp your chin. Warm breath ghosted across your lips as he leaned in. “Just a little taste.”
Oh, how I want him to properly taste me. Make me see stars. Make me cry his name.
It was almost chaste in the beginning, his lips gently brushing against yours before he pulled back and leaned back in. Your lips parted first, silently begging for him to deepen the kiss. He still had his hand on your chin as he took his time, as if he truly wanted to taste what your mouth had to offer.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmured when he pulled back, his gaze dropping to your lips as you caught your breath. That look alone made your toes curl. “I should put mistletoe everywhere just to find more excuses to kiss you.”
“That would be a first for me,” you said before you could stop yourself.
“What would be a first?”
“Being kissed under mistletoe. I’ve never done that,” you admitted with heated cheeks though there was no need to feel embarrassed.
Bucky pulled back a bit further as his eyebrows shot up, taking some of the warmth with him. “No one has kissed you under mistletoe? How is that possible?”
“I guess I haven’t had the opportunity,” you answered carefully.
A lump formed in your throat when he continued to stare and you weren’t quite sure why. Maybe it was because he treated you as if the sun, moon, and stars hung in the sky because of you. Not everyone saw you as anything special the way he did.
No one ever loved or cared enough about you before to try.
He slowly shook his head as if he refused to believe you. “Well, I’m fixing that right now,” he said more to himself than you before he gently put his hands over your ears. “Jensen!”
You smiled at his muffled shout before he put his arms back around you. His voice carried when he wanted it to. “Yeah?” Jake yelled back before he rushed to the break room and stuck his head in through the doorway. “What’s up?”
“Do we have any mistletoe around here?” Bucky asked.
“Bucky, what are you doing?” You whispered.
“Finding mistletoe before you go back to the shop. And, no, I’m not letting you leave until we find some,” he whispered back, waiting for Jake to give him an answer.
“I don’t think we do. Steve mentioned buying some,” he said, fiddling with his glasses before his eyes widened. “Wait! I think Hal has something that should work.”
“Of fucking course, he does,” your boyfriend mumbled affectionately as Jake went to get him.
“You really don’t have to do anything, Bucky,” you told him, turning his face back toward you. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he wanted to. He was a romantic at heart and you secretly enjoyed that he wanted to find some. “I appreciate it, but we don’t need something hanging over our heads for us to kiss.”
“I know we don’t, but maybe I want to give you that opportunity to have that kind of kiss,” he said. Your mouth went dry at his heart stopping smile. “If you’ll indulge me.”
You felt the weight of his tender gaze as you smiled, your eyes burning slightly from unshed tears. Thinking back on dating jerks like Richard, you were thankful for the experience because it showed you how guys should treat you and that you wouldn’t settle for less than what you deserved. It began with loving yourself.
“There’s no one else I’d rather kiss,” you said, resting your hand on his chest before Hal strolled into the room.
“Well, well, well,” he smiled, bringing attention to his hair as he ran a hand through it. As if he didn't turn enough heads on a normal day, he decided to dye his hair red and half green for the holiday season. “I heard you were looking for some mistletoe.”
“Yeah, you have any?” Bucky asked impatiently.
Hal chuckled and lifted his shirt slightly, giving you both a quick flash of his abs. “As a matter of fact…”
“Oh, my god,” you giggled, covering your mouth as Hal gestured to his belt. The hand painted buckle had mistletoe painted on it with “KISS ME” written underneath. “That’s…”
You stole a glance at Bucky and you swore you saw his left eye twitch. He likely had a sweet plan in his mind and got this instead. “What the fuck is that?”
“It’s mistletoe. Just like you asked for. I mean, it’s a form of mistletoe. I have a date tonight with Angel,” Hal explained, pointing at it again. You wanted to wish him good luck with his date, but you couldn’t stop giggling. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here, get on your knees, and start kissing. Or should I go over there?”
There was no mistaking your boyfriend’s eye twitch this time as your laughter died down. “I’m not kissing my girlfriend by your crotch. I’d sooner choke you with that belt.”
Hal seemed to consider it before he quickly shook his head. “Nah. I tried the choking thing once. Not really for me,” he said, smirking mischievously as he looked between the two of you. “But if she’s into that-”
Well...
You grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could launch himself at his employee and friend, who held his hands up in surrender. “Here’s a thought. Why don’t you take the belt off and hold it over our heads,” You suggested, hoping to appease your boyfriend as Hal unbuckled his belt with a shrug and removed it from the loops. “It still counts.”
“Not exactly traditional,” Bucky muttered under his breath before you brushed a finger along his chiseled jaw.
“We’ll call this innovative,” you said with a sweet and sincere smile. One you knew he couldn't resist.
“Innovative, huh?” Bucky asked, pulling you close as Hal waltzed over with an amused smile and dangled the belt above your heads.
“Yes,” you smiled as he framed your face. “So kiss me, please.”
Bucky held your cheeks with such care that it sent your heart soaring. This kiss was softer than before, yet full of promise and hunger, deep and thorough. He stole the breath from your lungs until you were left dizzy and wanting more.
It was the kind of kiss that warmed you up all over, like a flame no one could ever put out.
He pulled away first, slowly, but he seemed just as affected as you felt since he let out a shuddering breath and didn't let you go. “Fuck,” he whispered, bringing a smile to your face.
You had to close your eyes again to center yourself, still smiling. “Yeah. Fuck,” you whispered back before Hal cleared his throat.
“I really do adore you two lovebirds,” he began, stepping back to put his belt back on as you opened your eyes. Bucky didn't bother to look his way, only gazing at you. “But before you round the next base, Andy’s still talking about replacing the couch from the last time.”
He'll change his tune if he ever fools around in here with Sunny.
“Thank you, Hal,” you said, bringing a hand to Bucky’s cheek before he could grumble. Your touch was enough to soften his demeanor. “And thank you for my mistletoe kiss. I'll never forget it.”
Just like your first date that didn't go as planned, it made it all the more special.
Bucky smiled before he helped you both get to your feet. You had to get back to work. “I'm glad you liked it, but I’m getting us some actual mistletoe later and putting it all over our apartments. Bedrooms included.”
“Is that innovative?”
“Yeah, it is,” he smiled, sneaking in one more tender kiss before you had to go.
As long as Bucky would be the one to kiss you, he could put up mistletoe wherever he wanted.
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These two. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
633 notes · View notes
kentophilia · 6 days
Note
HIIII SALEM i hope ill be ur first req :3 can i have making out w TA geto in like your dorm room or smtg - i love that secretive/will they get caught dynamic <3 u can make it a little steamy but all in all i just want geto to relax after stressing over his masters 😇
contains: teaching assistant!geto, established relationship, afab!reader, making out, some suggestiveness, shoko cameo, pet names (my love, angel, baby)
word count: 1.1k
a/n: WAAAAH i finally got to writing this!!! i hope you're doing well seline, i miss you :( reminder that my requests are still open, please read my rules!!
reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!!
minors and ageless / blank blogs will be blocked immediately!
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sugu bear <3: can i come over?
sugu bear <3: need ur mental support for submitting my thesis pls
you smiled at your phone, responding with ‘ofc baby get ur ass over here rn’ in light speed.
ever since he started his position as a teaching assistant, he has been even more stressed as usual. there was no doubt that he was enjoying it, sometimes even taking over the class for the day and doing the meticulous work of grading essays and tests. however, it would take up a lot of his free time and subsequently, your time together as well.
sure, you'd see him on campus and in your shared classes, sneaking in as much physical contact as possible. but you missed spending actual time with him. watching movies, cooking together, going on dates, you name it. you got used to it, but sometimes you would feel a bit lonely. so you were elated to hear him coming over.
even better, your roommate shoko was out on a date with her girlfriend so you’d have the dorm to yourself. getting all giddy, you decided to tidy up a little for your boyfriend.
just a short time later, there was a knock on your dorm door and you rushed to see your sweet suguru standing there. he had a nervous smile on his face, his laptop in one hand and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.
“this is all i could get, hope you like it,” he murmured. you flung yourself onto him, inhaling his familiar scent. oh, how you missed him.
you squealed, “are you kidding, sugu? these are beautiful, you didn't have to get me anything!”
his smile grew wider, walking you backwards into your living space and closing the door behind him with his foot. you parted from him, placing a kiss onto his plump lips. he leaned into it, closing his eyes with a soft hum. soon enough, you broke the kiss and took the flowers to put them in a vase.
while you were rummaging through your kitchen, suguru made himself comfortable on your couch. he opened the laptop and got to work, finishing up his thesis. he had stressed about it for so long, he was scared about making typos so he read over it until his eyes burned. you soon joined him, curling into his side as you watched your boyfriend add the last finished touches to the document.
after a few minutes of comfortable silence, suguru let out a heavy sigh.
“want me to submit it for you?” you offered when you saw his shaky hand hovering over the touchpad, the mouse set on the big red submit button.
he quietly spoke: “you know what? yeah, i’d like that. no way to back out now.”
you took the laptop from him, setting it on your lap and clicking the button. as the confirmation screen lit up, you closed the window and laptop to put it on your coffee table. turning towards him, you noticed how pale he had gotten over the course of the last few minutes.
“are you okay?” you giggled, tucking one of the stray hairs behind his ear.
he sighed, “yeah, it's finally done.”
he pulled you on top of him, making you squeal. you settled on his lap, looping your arms around his broad shoulders and playing with the hairs on his nape. suguru placed his large hands on your waist, their weight and warmth comforting against your skin. you squirmed a little to get more comfortable as he leaned back with a sigh. with his eyes closed, his long lashes cast tiny shadows on his cheeks.
opening his eyes after a few breaths, suguru looked up at you with adoration in his eyes. a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, mirroring yours.
“i'm proud of you, sugu. you've worked so hard. i was worried you’d get grey hair by the time i’d see you next.”
his heart thumped in his ribcage, threatening to burst out.
“don't i deserve a reward then, my love?” he mused. you chuckled, knowing what he was insinuating.
you leaned forward to gently cover his face in kisses. starting at his forehead, going down his warm cheeks and sharp nose and lastly, his lips. they were roughed up from all the biting but still plump against yours. after a few light pecks, suguru gave you a small appreciative hum, his hands sliding around to your back to pull you closer to him. the warmth of his body made you melt into his touch, your chest pressed against his as close didn't seem close enough. your eyes fluttered close, a small whine getting stuck in your throat as suguru’s lips locked onto yours.
his tongue swiped over your bottom lip and you obediently opened your mouth, gently pulling at his now disheveled hair. he moaned quietly, his scalp tingling from your ministrations. your tongues swirled around each other in a tentative dance, the air getting hotter by the minute. spit was exchanged, deep inhales through the nose as you got drunk on each other. one of his hands settled on the side of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further.
shivers ran down your spine at his gentle touch, the pit in your tummy getting hotter and hotter. your hips started gyrating on top of his needily, feeling how hard he was getting just from your lips on his own. a low rumble erupted from his chest at that, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tightly. guiding you gently, he bucked his hips up to your heated core, making you part from him with a whimper.
a small string of spit connected your mouths, heavy lidded eyes watching as you gripped his shoulders for leverage as your hips grew a mind of their own.
“missed you s’much,” you whined, placing your forehead against his. you were watching how he parted his lips to pant as your clothed core rubbed against his boner so deliciously.
he let out a small moan, “missed you too, angel. i’m sorry for neglecting my poor baby.”
his mouth stretched into a grin as he watched you use him to get yourself off, desperate to feel his skin on yours. suguru slid his hands under your shirt, drawing figure eights against your blazing skin.
you could feel yourself getting wetter and coming closer to your peak when at the cusp of it, a harsh knock resonated through the living room. following that, shoko’s voice came muffled through the door.
“can we come in or are y'all still humping each other?”
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tags: @sttoru @kizoken @prncessrindou and thank you to @screampied and @redskyvenus for proofreading!!! :3
© kentophilia 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
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elllisaaa · 3 months
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how seventeen would confess to you - vu vers.
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-> pairing : svt vu × gn!reader
-> words count : 3.5k words
-> genre : svt members crushing on you, fluff
-> warnings : while make you giggle and kick your feet
-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> masterlist | svt masterlist
hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.
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YOON JEONGHAN - SNEAKY
he’s a tease.
i’m sorry but do something ridiculous and he’s gonna bring it back until the end of your life.  
but you’ve been friends for a long time, and you have many embarrassing things to remind him too. 
so it’s really a silly little war of who will tell the most unhinged story about the other. 
both of you like to do game nights, but you eventually realized how competitive he was, and how he didn’t mind cheating as long as he won, luckily, you were the same.
it makes you laugh most of the time, especially when he is like that with his members.
but he also knows when to calm down and be serious. he would be there for you without you even needing to say anything.
i think he’s a great listener too, ready to ease all your worries and remind you of your own value. 
he’s the sweetest when he wants to, but he’s also a menace.
because he’s also flirty sometimes, playing it as a joke but deep down, he hopes that one day you’ll catch on how much you actually mean to him. 
being the tease he is, his confession would be like that too.
“- So, I need your advice on a situation.”
You sat in front of him, handing him a hot mug of tea, enough to last through all his gossip. It was not unusual for the both of you to meet on your days off and just spill the tea about your coworkers and friends, laughing at each other's stories. 
“- I’m all ears !
I have a friend who’s like… Really in love with his best friend, he has been for years actually. I think everyone around them has noticed how much he likes them, except them of course. And he wants to finally confess, but he doesn't know how to, and I don’t know how to help him myself.”
Jeonghan tried to not let any emotion show on his face as he was telling you his well-prepared speech. His goal was to keep on his little game for as long as he could, just to tease you like he loved too. He got out of his thoughts when you talked again, answering his indirect question. 
“- Well, I think he should just go for it. If they’ve been best friends for this long, they should be as comfortable around each other as we are, and he shouldn’t be afraid of breaking their relationship or not. Like, if you were telling me that you have feelings for me, it wouldn’t change anything for me. You’ll still be my best friend.”
Suddenly, doubt was filling up his heart. Has he been mistaken by your behavior and his friends' comments about the two of you ? What made him so sure that you loved him like he loved you ? But now that he was there, he should finish what he started, right ? Jeonghan took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on his cup of tea, too shy to meet yours.
“- And if I tell you that this friend is me… Would you reconsider the best friend title ?”
The silence that answered his question encouraged him to lift his head from the contemplation of his drink, meeting your wide eyes already staring at him, making him giggle. You finally snapped out of it, a soft smile stretching out your lips as you reached for his hand over the counter of your kitchen, interlocking your fingers. Jeonghan hoped you couldn’t hear his heartbeat going crazy at the simple and sweet gesture. 
“- It depends… If I get to call you my boyfriend, then yes.”
“you can call me whatever you want as long as i’m yours.”
HONG JOSHUA - SECRET
truly a gentleman like he’s holding the door for you, opens your water bottle for you, always asks if you need help when he has free time.
as seventeen makeup artist, you followed them on tour and on almost every event, being one of the seniors of your team. 
and joshua always asked you to do his makeup. 
you assumed it was because he had known you for a long time and was more comfortable around you than another younger makeup artist. 
but as time passed, he started to throw little compliments between asking about your day and what you had for lunch. 
he looooves the way you blush every time he tells you that you’re pretty. h
e’s so sweet too, always has one or two snacks ready when you come to do his makeup because he knows about your habit of skipping meals because of work. 
he would inevitably end up giving you his personal number, and you would talk all day, coming to know each other more and little by little, you fell in love with each other. 
but for the sake of both your jobs, it had to stay a secret, until one particular day. 
“- Where’s Y/N ?
- Ah ! They had to replace someone that called in sick today. I’m sorry, I know you like her to do your makeup.”
Joshua shook his head, encouraging your coworker to go on and carrying a little conversation with her. But she could tell that he was out of it. He was thinking about you. About how he became so used to your presence by his side everyday. How not having you close to him, talking to him, touching his face had him feeling empty, as if something was missing. Well, you were missing. And he didn’t realize until now how much he was relying on you. 
Of course, he knew how dangerous it was for his career to date you, how risky it was regarding your job too, but he couldn’t help being drawn to you everytime, and neither could you, like magnets attracting each other. He stayed professional on stage though, delivering his performance as perfectly as usual, but his members could tell that something was bothering him, and every one of them knew the reason very well : you. 
“- Hey Y/N.
- Joshua ? What are you doing here ?”
He didn’t answer right away, gesturing for you to follow him to an empty dressing room. You couldn’t help throwing glances all around you, making sure that no one was witnessing this. But you trusted Joshua : he would never put you or him in danger voluntarily. 
“- I have to tell you something. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and I believe you feel the same about it but I need to tell you regardless.”
His gaze was so soft, so loving, you couldn’t ignore anymore how he made your heart swell. You had noticed that your feelings were mutual, but you also knew that you couldn’t be together. 
“- You know we can’t… I don’t want to hold you back, I don’t want you to take such risks for me. You worked too hard for your dream to give it up just for me.”
Joshua could see your eyes filling up with tears, and he stepped forward, cupping your face in his hands in hopes it would comfort you. All he wanted was to take care of you, not to make you cry. 
“- It’s gonna be complicated, yes, but I don’t want to give up on either my career or you. You’re so dear to me, I think you don’t realize how much you mean to me, how right it feels to be appreciated for who I really am. Maybe… Maybe we can at least try. I love you so much Y/N.”
And how could you say no to that ? To his lovestruck gaze focused on you, only you ? How could you reject him when he’s all you can think about everyday ? You stepped forward to hug him, relaxing in his hold and warmth as Joshua let out an audible sigh of relief too.
“- I love you too, I love you so much…”
“you’ll be my secret, this way I can keep you all to myself.”
LEE JIHOON - IMPOSSIBLE
i think that he would be a little cold with you at first, out of shyness and because he’s an introvert.
but you always made sure to include him In your conversations with the other members, and to talk to him even if he didn’t answer more than two words. 
little by little, he started to open up, to feel really comfortable around you. 
maybe it was because of the way you always focused only on him whenever he was talking, or because you were always interested in whatever he was doing.
would want you to listen to every song he produces before everyone else because he values your opinion so much. 
he didn’t exactly know but he felt something so soothing when he spent time with you. 
so when mingyu told him that you had a boyfriend, he was disappointed – and even more so when he finally met him and saw how badly he treated you.
jihoon would go on and on about how shitty your partner was, advising you to leave him, not only because of his selfish reasons, but mainly because he felt like the boy didn’t deserve you. 
you would come to his studio after every fight, and he couldn’t do anything else than watching you cry your eyes out. 
“- I’m sorry, I’m always here bothering you…
- You’re never bothering me Y/N, if you need me, I’m here.”
You tried to smile, but that only forced another tear to roll down your already soaked cheeks. As if he knew better than yourself what you needed, Jihoon opened his arms and you gladly accepted his hug, basking in his warm embrace. 
“- What did he do this time ?”
Jihoon knew that his tone was accusative. But at this point, he couldn’t care anymore, he couldn’t bear to see you cry every other day because of an asshole who didn’t realize how lucky he was. And he could only assume that he did something bad, because all you’ve ever tried to do was make him happy. 
“- He just.. Forgot our date, again… I’m so tired of this Jihoon, I’m doing my best for this relationship to work but he doesn’t even try…”
Your voice was muffled by his hoodie, your face still buried in his chest as you talked, but your words still broke his heart. He was tired too. Tired of seeing you cry, tired of seeing you wasting your time for someone who didn’t care about you, tired of seeing you think that you were not enough. 
“- You already know what I think about this but… You should really leave him. You deserve to be loved, really loved. And he’s not loving you right.”
Slowly, you lifted your head from his chest, your teary eyes glaring confusingly at him. 
“- But who would love me right ? 
- Me. I would. I could be a better boyfriend than him.”
Jihoon lifted a hand, fingers brushing delicately against your cheek. He knew he could be good for you, knew that he could treat you well if only you let him, if only you let him one chance to prove it, he’ll do anything to make you happy. And you knew he would, knew that you would fit perfectly in his arms. But was it reasonable ? You had been with your partner for two years. Two years and still, what you felt for him never came close to what you felt for Jihoon, to how he made you shiver every time he touched you, to how he made butterflies come alive in your stomach every time he looked at you. 
“- I think you could…”
And even if both of you still needed to figure some things out, you knew that you finally made the right choice. You were finally where you belonged to. 
“i’m going to make up for all the times he couldn’t be by your side.”
LEE SEOKMIN - FLOWERY
sweet and funny.
i feel like he would treat you like his partner even if you’re not, maybe to hint at you that he has feelings but i mostly think it’s just because he cares so much about you.
he’ll do things like giving you his clothes when you’re cold, or feeding you when you want a taste of what he’s eating. 
basically, it’s almost like you’re already together because he’s also very touchy and clingy.
he’ll hug you as a greeting every time, and he always has his arm around your shoulders when you’re sitting next to each other. 
tbh, he would start to question your feelings at one point because was he not making it obvious enough that he had a big crush on you ???
but at the same time, he’s afraid that you mistake that for just a very close friendship so he doesn’t want to ask you straight away either. 
so he would try to make something a little more sneaky by delivering a bouquet of your favorite flowers at your place, with a card only saying “i love you”. 
“- Maybe they’re from Soobin ?”
You and your friend start laughing, but Seokmin, who witnessed the whole conversation, was not. Did you really think that these flowers were from someone else ? He clearly remembered the day you told him what your favorite flowers were, and that you also told him he was the only one to know that. So why would you lie to him ? Or tell it to anybody else ? Maybe it was nothing, but his heart felt heavy as he got back to his video game with Wonwoo. 
You obviously noticed how Seokmin was very distant the whole day. It was supposed to be a fun afternoon with most of your friends, but you ended up being more worried about what was going on with him. Did you do or say something to upset him ? Did you hurt him in any way without being aware ? You couldn’t recall anything that could explain why he was so cold with you.
“- Hey Seokmin…”
The boy turned around when you joined him outside, and he couldn’t avoid you, nor the conversation that would follow this time. He knew that he was being childish, knew that he should have maybe just told you how he felt instead of being upset over you for something you were not responsible for. 
“- Hi Y/N…
- You’ve been kind of avoiding me… Did I do something ? I just want to understand what happened so I can fix it.”
Seokmin closed his eyes and sighed, a pained expression on his face. He was dumb, he was so dumb. He wanted to make you feel loved, not like you did something wrong when it was him who was being sulky over nothing. 
“- Fuck, no… You didn’t do anything, I promise. I’m just a coward.”
You looked at him, confused as you cocked your head to the side and Seokmin turned around to face you, trying to hold your gaze even if he could feel his cheeks start to burn from how ridiculous he felt.
“- The flowers… They are from me. And I heard you say that you think they were from Soobin instead and I… I don’t know why but it hurt because you said that you only told me which one were your favorites. And it made me feel so special, I wanted it to stay our thing.”
You stepped in, until you could hold his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his. The atmosphere had switched to a much lighter one as you smiled at him, finding him very cute as he tried to look composed but was really not, with his red face.
“- I was joking, I knew they were from you, they could only be from you. And yes, it is our thing, because I want to share this kind of thing only with you. You’re special to me, and I wanted to thank you for your gift but you didn’t let me.”
Seokmin shook his head, laughing at his own stupidity. But all that mattered to him was how it turned out in the end. 
“next time i’m offering you flowers, it’s to celebrate our first date.”
BOO SEUNGKWAN - BRAVE
needless to say that he is a drama queen, always has something to bitch and vent about. 
but obviously, you’re the same - that’s why you get along so well - so you’re always here to listen to all his gossip, and vice-versa. 
i think that both of you would also hold a grudge about something ridiculous the other did years ago but that you still bring up during every argument (thinking about me and my best friend fighting over a piece of salad and a potato since middle school)
overall, it’s very entertaining to spend time with him because he’s so sassy… that’s hilarious. 
since you gossip a lot, you know almost everything about each other's lives, you have literally no boundaries. 
and you also love to sit down after a tiring week, with a show you both love as a background noise while you talk about what happened. 
a very comfortable relationship, based on trust and really open-minded.
that’s why you’re not afraid to talk to him about your love life even if seungkwan always seemed to push back on the subject (understandable when he had a crush on you for years).
“- So you’re going to meet with him again ?
- Yeah, I think so… He’s not really my type usually, but he’s not that bad, and he’s kind so maybe I should give him a chance.”
Seungkwan scoffed, looking away from your face and focusing on the tv instead. He didn’t want to hear another one of your failed dates with guys that didn’t deserve you. He never understood why you did that, not when he was right there. 
“- Why do you always react like that ? Do you not want me to find the love of my life ? 
- It’s not where you will find it.”
You hit his shoulder playfully, but you felt a weight on your heart as he rolled his eyes. Seungkwan was never really interested whenever you talked about your current love life. However, he loved to bitch about your exes, but everytime you mentioned a new guy you were expecting to go out with, he seemed almost annoyed. You never understood why, because he loved drama so much, and your dating life was the best source of drama. But for some obscure reason, he stayed silent. 
“- I just don’t want to be alone. 
- We’re always together, you’re not alone.
- I know but… I want to come home and have someone waiting for me and hugging me. And I want to fall asleep in somebody else's arms. And I want to feel loved at the end of the day.”
Your gaze was focused on the show playing on the screen, while Seungkwan was watching you, noticing how your facial expressions had changed. He knew you weren’t joking anymore, and maybe it was time for him to stop being silly too. 
“- I could do all that. You’ll never be alone if you were with me.”
When you looked at Seungkwan again, he was already staring at you, more serious than he had ever been. A smile blossomed on your face, because all you ever wanted was to be his.
“- Does that mean you're willing to offer yourself in sacrifice and be my boyfriend ?”
“if that means spending every day of my life by your side, then yes, i'll do it gladly.”
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :
@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie
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tasteleeknow · 1 year
Text
º.☆・ ⇢ HURT/COMFORT WITH SKZ
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genre: fluff, angst. content warnings: insecurities, depression, jealousy, fear of the dark, accidental injury, minor illness, alcohol use, driving anxiety word count: 4.6k (500 each)
a/n: my first ot8 post as a little thank you for 2k! i appreciate you so much both for reading and leaving feedback. hope you enjoy this too!
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CHAN — his insecurities are getting to him
“But…you said we could go today…” you mutter, struggling to keep the disappointment from your voice. You’d been looking forward to this day all week. Your boyfriend had promised you’d finally go to the art exhibition in the city. It would be ending soon and then it would be gone forever. 
Your boyfriend looks up from where he is hunched over his desk, where he had been scribbling something in a notebook. “I just can’t today.” 
“Is it work?” 
He looks back at the paper, pen halted. “No.” 
“What’s so important that it has to be done today?” 
“Go with Hyunjin instead.” 
You take a step back, caught off guard. “What?”
“Hyunjin likes art, I’m sure he’d be stoked to go with you.” 
You instinctively look down at your phone, having just texted your roommate minutes earlier. “Yeah, he probably would. But I want to go with you.” 
Chan stands from his desk, keeping his back to you. You watch as he fiddles with his pen for a moment before dropping it and finally turning to face you. “Do you really?”
You frown, walking over to him and adjusting his necklace where it had twisted around his neck. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I want to do something with my boyfriend?” 
He’s quiet for a moment.. Most of the time he just speaks, letting whatever he was thinking out—no filters or barriers. You loved him for it, for speaking his mind so freely. These moments when he was clearly preparing his words before voicing them are rare, so you wait. You wait, knowing he was taking a moment to gather his thoughts and that any interruption would throw him off track. 
“Do you ever wonder if someone else would be better for you? If we don’t…click as well as we should?” he finally says, eyes cast down. 
You drop your hands from his necklace, the one you’d gifted for his previous birthday. “No,” you answer without hesitation. “Do you?” 
“Can you…think about it for a moment… before answering. It’s important.” 
“I don’t need to think about it. I’m being honest. I’ve never wondered that and I’ve never had any doubts about you. About us.” You watch as his brows draw together, clearly lost in thought again. “Have you?” you ask him again. 
“I wonder…if someone like Hyunjin might make you happier.” 
You glance at the desk, where the notebook lays open—his scribbled handwriting filling the page. “Have you been feeling bad again?” you ask. 
He looks over his shoulder, following your eyeline. He takes a step back to close the book. You step up to him, trailing your hand up his chest to rest over his heart. “It’s okay, I wasn’t trying to read it. I just…want you to tell me when you’re feeling bad. So I can be here for you.” 
He takes a step away from you, your hand dropping from his chest. “But that’s the problem. I’m always having these episodes; days where I don’t want to leave the house or where I feel so low I feel like I bring you down with me.” 
“Why are you writing?” you ask, a flicker of panic crossing his face at your question. “I’m not asking what you’re writing. Just why you’re doing it.” 
“Because…it…makes it better. Helps.”
“You’re working on it. You’re doing things you’ve been taught will help you get better and that’s why it’s not a problem. You love me and I love you and we are working on ways to be better people because we love each other. Right?” 
“I do… want to be better for you,” he says, pressing his own hand over his heart. 
“And for you?”
A small smile crosses his lips. “And for me.” 
You match his smile, stepping close so you can wrap your arms around him. “I love you now and I’ll love you when you love yourself too.” His arms tighten around you. “I can’t wait,” you finish. 
MINHO — you’re afraid of the dark
“400,” you announce, grinning at your boyfriend across the table.
A grumble of thunder distracts his attention to the window behind you before he looks at you again. “Why the fuck is it 400?”
“I own all 4,” you say, pointing to your monopoly cards.
“This game is stupid.”
“It was invented as a critique of landlords and capitalism, it’s meant to be stupid.”
“Be a nice landlord and give me a free pass.”
“No. Pay up.”
He grumbles, slapping the money in your palm just as your apartment goes dark. You yelp, dropping the paper money and reaching blindly across the table until you feel your boyfriends arm.
“Blackout,” he says, stating the obvious. He stands from the table before you have a proper grip, leaving you stranded. You stand, feeling around the table for him.
“Where are you? Minho?”
“Just getting my phone,” he replies, already sounding much too far away.
You reach out into the darkness, relying purely on your memory of your apartment to navigate. “Come back, please. Minho! Please.”
“Boo,” he whispers, right at your side. You grip his arm, too relieved to be mad at him for attempting to make you jump. The screen from his phone lights up his face, then he turns on his torch.
“I’m gonna find some candles, you wanna stay here?”
“No.”
“I can get your phone? Won’t be dark.”
“Wanna come.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Poor baby.”
“Shut up.”
You keep your arm on his as he leads you through to the kitchen, standing right by him as he crouches down to dig through a drawer. You hold the torch for him until he stands, holding a few candles and a matchbox.
“Where do you wanna set up camp? Are we finishing the game?”
You shake your head.
“Bath?” he suggests.
“In the dark?”
He holds the candles up. “Come on.”
He leads you to the bathroom and you’re forced to let go of him as he sets up the candles and leans into the tub to turn the water on. You turn to look behind you occasionally, the pitch black hallway making you feel uneasy.
Minho’s breath tickles your neck as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Would you like help?” he asks, fingers moving to fiddle with the buttons on your jeans.
You look up at the dark doorway. “Could you... shut that?”
He kisses your cheek then moves around you to shut the door as you pull your clothes off. The room is barely lit, the reflection of the candles in the mirror making the small bathroom seem much bigger. He pulls his shirt over his head as he approaches you.
“You’re alright, I’ve got you. Yeah?” You nod and he leans around you to turn the water off. “Hop in.”
You lower yourself into the warm water, watching as your boyfriend removes the rest of his clothes. You shuffle aside to make room as he joins you, lying back so his head rests on the soft neck rest you’d bought him for christmas. He hold his arms up, beckoning you onto him. “C’mere.”
You climb over him, pressing your chest against his and resting your head on his shoulder—just above the waterline. His arms wrap around you.
“Good?” he asks.
You close your eyes, surrounded by warmth. The darkness feels far away. “Mm, good.” 
CHANGBIN — he accidentally hurts you
It was an old injury, so old you’d only ever mentioned it in passing once. You’d get a twinge in your wrist occasionally but apart from that, you practically forgot about it yourself. That’s why when your boyfriend challenges you to an arm wrestle, you don’t hesitate to say yes. You were equally competitive, you challenged each other to silly little games constantly. 
“You’re not gonna let me win?” 
“Have I ever?” 
“Fair.” You settle yourself over the counter, opposite him. He presses his palm to the smooth surface, offering an example for you to mirror. He grasps your hand in his, pulling you over the counter a little more so he can press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Ok, ready,” he says, allowing you to resume your starting position. 
“What’s that?” you ask, pointing over his shoulder with your free hand. As soon as he turns his head you start, pulling with all your strength. You manage to get him halfway down to the counter before he stops you, easily turning the tables. He puts more strength into it than he needs to, thrown off by your headstart. A sharp pain runs up your arm as your hand slams into the counter. 
You pull your hand back to your chest, cradling it against your body as you scrunch your eyes shut—waiting for the pain to dull. It’ll pass, it’ll pass… you repeat to yourself. A soft touch on your shoulder alerts you to the fact Changbin has moved around the counter to your side. “Just a sec,” you mutter, unable to speak properly until the pain has dulled. 
“Let me see,” he says, sounding stoic. He sounds so calm that you’re completely caught off guard when you look up at him and see his eyes watery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him cry. It’s so shocking it distracts you entirely from the now dull wrist pain. 
You let him lift your hand gently as you watch his face. “Can you move it?” he says, inspecting your skin as if tracking down the source of your pain would remedy it. 
“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just that old injury flaring up.” You pull your hand from him easily, the hold he has on you so gentle it offers no resistance. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 
You lift his chin with your fingers, his gaze pointed towards the floor. “Was just karma for trying to cheat,” you say, a small smile on your face as you attempt to lighten the mood. 
It doesn’t work, your boyfriend's eyes fix on your wrist—his eyes reminding you of a kicked puppy. You give him no warning when you jump on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands come to support you naturally, a reflexive response to the way you’d greet him every day. 
“Wasn’t your fault,” you mumble against his neck. “I’d forgotten about it too, honestly. S’okay.” 
“Does it still hurt?” 
You pull back from him enough to hold the inside of your wrist up to his mouth. His eyes flick between yours, confused for a moment. Then he brings his lips to your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist. 
“Not anymore,” you whisper, offering him a small smile before replacing your wrist with your lips—pressing lightly against his. 
HYUNJIN — he thinks you don’t love him as much as he loves you
Your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic. You loved that about him, truly. The only problem was when you felt like you struggled to meet his expectations; when you didn’t express your love in a way that fit with his love language. He would wilt. 
“Jinnie? Please talk to me,” you encourage, lifting the blanket from your boyfriend's head. He rolls over to face the wall, ignoring you. You sigh, lying down next to him—resting your hands under your head as you stare at his back. 
“It’s okay,” he says, still facing the wall. “I love you more than you love me, I just have to…accept it.” 
You reach to grab his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back so you can crawl over him. You stroke his forehead gently, brushing away a non-existent lock of hair—a habit you hadn’t yet abandoned since he’d cut his hair short. “Stop saying that, it hurts me.” 
His brows pull together as his plush lips press together firmly. “You said you needed space.” 
“Yes, that is what I said. I didn’t say ‘I love you less than you love me’.” 
He looks confused but he shifts a little, bringing his hands up to rest against your thighs. “I’ve never wanted space from you. I want you always.” 
His cheeks are rosy and you can’t help brushing your thumbs across them, cradling his face in your hands. “If I had to see anyone else as much as I see you, I’d lose my mind. It’s because I love you so much that I ask for my own space so rarely,” you finish. 
“Do I bother you? Is that why you asked?” 
“Sometimes anything external irritates me. Anything. My clothes on my skin, a notification on my phone. I just need to be alone sometimes, completely. No notifications, no sound, no other person. Even you. Even though you’re my favourite person ever.” 
“Ever?”
“Ever, ever,” you smile, moving one of your thumbs to brush over his lips. You pull his bottom lip down gently, he’s much more relaxed now. “We are different people, hm? It’d be boring if we were exactly the same.” 
“Mm,” he agrees, pulling you down against him. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart as you rise and fall gently with his breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Sometimes…I get…scared that you could never feel…as much as I do. So one day you’ll just…have had enough of me and because I know that won’t happen for me…it feels like…a clock is ticking down.” 
“You have to trust me. If you really love me, you’ll trust me when I tell you how I feel. I promise I’ll always be honest, hm?” 
“Yeah,” he says, the vibration of his voice in his chest against your ear. 
“I promise I love you,” you say, lifting your head to whisper against his lips. 
“I promise I love you, too.” 
JISUNG — takes care of you when you’re drunk
You stumble up the steps, fiddling with your keys as your friend drives away. You drop them just as the door opens, stumbling forward into Jisungs arms as you lose your balance trying to bend down. He catches you, holding you upright until you're steady. Then he bends down, snatching the keys and poking his head out to look down the street. 
“Where’s your friend?” 
You smile. “Left.” 
He frowns. “Before I opened the door?” 
You reach out to stroke his hair. “You look so cute when you’re worried.” You kick your shoes off, stumbling into your apartment until you find the couch. “What time is it?” you mumble, struggling not to fall sideways and sleep right there in the living room. 
Your roommate drops the keys in the little box near the door before following you, dropping to his knees at your feet. You reach to pet his head again. “You’re a good friend,” you slur, giggling when he frowns. He lets you pull the corners of his mouth up into a smile then he stands, holding his hand out to help you up. 
“Bed,” he says, grunting a little as he pulls you up—your legs practically jelly. You fall into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder. You almost fall asleep just trying to walk to your room, collapsing onto your bed the second Jisung releases you. You close your eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness as Jisung moves around the room. 
He’s leaning over you, trying to touch your face. “Sleep,” you mumble, attempting to push his hand away. He holds your hand down on the bed. 
“Just let me clean this off, yeah?” he says, attempting to wipe the makeup off your face. You relent, going limp to let him work. 
“Sungie?” 
“Mm?”
“You’re a good friend.” 
“You’re completely off your head,” he laughs. “Will you remember this tomorrow?” 
“Maaaybe.” 
“Maybe,” he repeats, the cloth against your face halting for a moment. “Did you…meet anyone tonight?” he asks, resuming his makeup removal service. 
“My friends,” you mumble. 
“I meant…ya know…like flirted with anyone.” 
You giggle, reaching for Jisung’s arm. “Do you flirt, Sungie?” 
“No.” 
“Whyy?”
“There’s no one I want to flirt with.” 
You pout, sitting up and squishing his cheeks between your fingers. “That’s sad, poor Sungie.” 
“I’m not sad. I’m happy.” 
“You are?” 
He reaches up to smooth down your hair. “Mm. I'm happy if you’re happy.” 
“What if I’m sad?”
“Then I’ll find what’s making you sad and take it away.” 
“You’re a good friend,” you yawn, falling back down onto your pillows. He leans down to press a kiss to your head. You reach out to grab his hand as he stands to leave. “Sungie?”
“Yes?” 
“Am I a good friend?” 
“You’re a good everything.” 
“...a good everything?” you mumble through another yawn, closing your eyes as Jisung intertwines your fingers. 
“Mm. You’re everything.” 
FELIX — you’re burnt out from uni/work
“What do you want for dinner?” your boyfriend asks gently. He’d been overly gentle with you all day, treating you like a cornered kitten. You loved him, but every question he asked you was wearing away at you. He’d suggested going to your favourite park, the colourful flowers and gentle breeze often did your mindset wonders. You didn’t want to get dressed. He’d put on your comfort film, the background noise was nice—but not enough to distract you from the heavyweight in your chest. 
“I don’t care.” 
“Pizza?” he asks, knowing it was your favourite—your go-to option when you were feeling low. You say nothing, closing your eyes and resting your head back against the couch. 
“Wanna go for a drive and pick it up?” Felix asks, making the decision for you. 
“No.” 
His gentle fingers trace across your knuckles, where you are gripping a pillow to your chest. You relax your grip. 
“I’ll order then,” he says, sounding a little dejected. You lift your head. It feels heavy on your neck. You fall into your boyfriend's lap, head resting against his thighs.  
“Thank you,” you whisper. His free hands come to your hair, stroking the strands gently just above your ear. 
“Anything you need?” 
“Just you,” you answer, closing your eyes again. The sound of the tv is the only noise in the room for the next 20 minutes, your boyfriend's fingers continuing their gentle ministrations in your hair. 
When the doorbell rings he lifts your head gently, replacing his lap with a pillow so he can answer the door. He’s gone not even a minute. That’s all the time you need for your eyes to fill with tears, suddenly completely overwhelmed. He places the pizza on the table then kneels by your side.
“Okay?” 
You open your mouth to speak, unable to get anything past your lips but an ugly sob. He jumps into action, lifting your head so he can resume his position on the couch. You press your face to his legs for a moment before lifting yourself to climb into his lap, wrapping yourself around him. “So tired,” you sob, his hand stroking up and down your back. 
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I wish—I wish I could take it away.” 
“Don’t—” you heave in a breath, already struggling to breathe through your uncontrollable sobbing. “Don’t leave.” 
“Shhh. Not going anywhere, promise. Right here…just breathe.” His voice wobbles a little, prompting you to pull back to look at his face. “Breathe for me,” he finishes. His eyes are watery to match yours, his cheeks already wet from where his tears had spilled over. 
You bring your hands to his cheeks, attempting to wipe them away. “Please don’t cry,” you sob. 
He huffs out a laugh through his tears. “You cried first.” 
“I didn’t mean to.” 
His eyes soften, pulling your head back down to rest on his shoulder. “I know.” He lets you cry into his shoulder until your head hurts, finally lifting you from his lap so he can bring you a box of tissues. He takes one for himself. You take in the scene you both make, blowing your noses as your pizza sits cold on the coffee table. 
Felix looks up at you, his nose bright red. You burst into laughter, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck again. “What’s funny?” he asks between sniffles. 
“Just love you.”
SEUNGMIN — he comes home to find you sick
You’re faintly aware of a knock at the door, too unwell to even consider getting up to answer it. Instead you groan as you roll over, reaching for the bottle of water on the ground by the couch. You struggle to sit up, lifting your head just enough to sip from the lip of the bottle. The door opens just as you look across the room longingly at the fan, wishing you had the energy to turn it on and drag it over to blow directly in your face. 
“Oh, you’re home. Why didn’t you—” your boyfriend pauses, taking in your sweaty form sprawled out on the couch. “What’s wrong?” 
You’re suddenly overwhelmed, the exhaustion from looking after yourself all day catching up with you. You reach out towards him as your face crumbles, a sob escaping your throat. You don’t see him approach you, your eyes squeezed closed as you feel his arms wrap around you. He pulls you into his lap, guiding your head to his shoulder. 
“You’re sick? Why didn’t you call?” 
“You were busy,” you gasp between sobs. 
He’s quiet, letting you gather yourself. It doesn’t take long, you don’t have the energy to cry. When you’re quiet he speaks again. “What do you need?” 
“Don’t wanna be sick anymore,” you whine, knowing he couldn’t actually take it away but feeling much like you did as a child—begging your mum to make it stop. 
“I know,” he says, palm rubbing up and down your back. “What else do you need?” 
“Sleep.” 
He stands, lifting you with him. Your legs dangle, too tired to cling to him like you usually do. He lowers your legs to the ground briefly so he can hook his arm under your legs and lift you properly. You wrap your arms around his neck weakly, relying on him entirely to hold you against him. 
“Should’ve called,” he mutters, turning to manoeuvre through your bedroom doorway. He lowers you gently to the bed then disappears into your ensuite bathroom. You close your eyes, a small pained sound escaping your throat. 
A cold cloth presses against your forehead and your eyes flutter open to take in the worried face of your boyfriend. “Have you taken anything?” he asks. 
“This morning.” 
He stands quickly, leaving the room without a word. When he returns he’s carrying a bottle of water and a small cup. “Swallow these,” he instructs, sitting down at the edge of the bed so he can help you sit. You do what he says, swallowing each tablet individually with a mouthful of water. 
He places his hand at the back of your head to lower you back against the pillow. “Sleep.” 
“Can’t sleep without you,” you mutter. He pulls his shirt over his head then crawls up next to you, wrapping his arm around you so he can pull you into him. “Do you think it’ll be gone when I wake?” you ask, trying to focus on the warm pressure of his body against your back. 
“Definitely,” he answers, sounding completely sure of himself. You close your eyes as his lips press to your neck, drifting out of consciousness almost immediately. 
JEONGIN — you panic while learning to drive
You’d been putting it off for years, the anxiety of learning to drive completely overwhelming. It wasn’t until your boyfriend offered to teach you that you finally worked up the courage. He made everything enjoyable, every grocery trip felt like a fun day out if you were with him.
“You’re ready to go out on the street,” he encourages again as your hands grip the wheel tightly. You’d only managed driving around an empty carpark so far. It was late on a Tuesday night, the streets were practically empty. 
“I…don’t think I am.” 
“I know you are.” 
You turn to look at your boyfriend, his eyes shining behind his round glasses. You suck in a deep breath, attempting to loosen your grip on the wheel a little. You ease your foot off the break, rolling forward slightly before pressing the accelerator down slowly. Jeongin is quiet next to you, patient as always. 
When you reach the exit you slam the breaks on, suddenly panicked by the open road ahead of you. “We’re going left,” your boyfriend says, still sounding totally calm and confident. 
“I can’t.” 
“Yes, you can.” 
“I can’t, I really can’t.” 
He rests his hand on your thigh. “Baby? Hey,” You take one hand off the wheel to grasp his hand. “You got it,” he finishes. 
Your heart races in your chest as you grip the wheel with both hands again, a shiver running through your body. Jeongin talks to you as you turn out into the street, giving you calm instructions and gentle encouragement. It isn’t until a car pulls out and follows directly behind you that you start to really panic, their headlights shining directly into the car. 
“The car,” you mutter, panic evident in your voice. 
“Ignore them,” your boyfriend says. “You can turn left at the next street.” Your eyes keep flicking to the rear view mirror, another shiver running through your body. Then they honk and you break too fast, swerving to pull up the side of the road. The car honks again as they speed past you, leaving you gasping for breath as you try to stay calm. 
A hand gently rests over yours and you look up to the man sitting in the passenger seat. He pulls his hoodie over his head. “Want me to take over?” he asks. You nod, pulling the handbrake on and stepping out of the car. 
He meets you half-way around the car, pulling his soft hoodie over your head and helping you push your arms through the sleeves. He’d often give you an item of his clothing when you were anxious, the smell of him close to you calming your nerves. The fabric is soft against your skin and you press the sleeve to your face as you climb into the passenger seat. 
You’re both quiet as your boyfriend drives, your heart slowing back to a normal rate as you watch the world go by. It isn’t until the car pulls into an unfamiliar car park that you realise you haven’t been heading home. Jeongin presses a button to open the sunroof then turns the engine off. He gestures to the back seat and you climb over the centre console, your boyfriend following close behind. 
He lays himself across the back seat and holds his arms open, beckoning you to join him. You press yourself against him, head resting against his shoulder—his arms around you prevent you from falling off the seats. You have a perfect view up to the clear night sky, your boyfriend's soft breath tickling your skin.
“You did well,” he says, breaking the silence finally. 
You huff. “I freaked out.”  
“You overcame your fear and drove on the roads,” he presses his lips to your temple. “Proud of you,” he mumbles against your skin. 
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a/n: some of these are snippets from longer wips! may be seen again in longer form in the future...
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please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!
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