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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 years

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Of Homilies And Crosswords

Father Paul battles feelings and dreams he shouldn't have as a priest. Loses spectaculary. - Set before A Sweet Tooth. Ok, I'm currently on ✨writer's block✨ and this fic probably shows it. Yet, I did try to write this from Paul's prespective (more or less), therefore there are waay more (F/N)s [First Name] here than in any other of my fics. It's a little dirty, but only a little, as a treat, but what it lacks in smut it makes up in cheesiness. (If somethings make no sense, I’m sorry) Bone Apple Tea.

Of Homilies And Crosswords - 4.1K

tw: suggestive themes (not explicit 💦 dreams)

Father Paul never before realised how quiet Crockett Island really was when (F/N) wasn’t around. The young woman said she was feeling a little homesick, therefore she decided to go and visit her family, staying a week back at her birthplace. She left merely a few hours ago really, coming to bid goodbye to him before catching the Breeze, but Paul missed her already. It was odd, the priest supposed. He got so accustomed to her presence in his daily life.

It was just after 2 o’clock in the afternoon and father Paul sat behind the desk in his little rectory, elbows on the desktop, hands folded underneath his chin and just gazing into nothingness. Most days at this time he’d be sharing tea with (F/N), working on a homily for the next day while she sat across from him, either reading or doing crosswords. Every once in a while, she’d ask for his input on some particularly tricky clues and, in return, he’d ask for her opinion of his choice of words. Paul liked such afternoons, they felt calm and warm. Comfortable. They felt like home.

Currently however, the sermon he was preparing was half written on a piece of paper before him, long forgotten, with scratched over words littering the page. The priest finally sighed and straightened up, letting his hands drop onto his thighs. Perhaps a stroll would do him good, clear his head a little bit. Paul got up and walked over to his bedroom where he put on a soft dark-grey cardigan. It had been lying on his dresser where (F/N) put it a day before. The man smiled unconsciously.

In his mind’s eye he saw himself draping the cardigan over (F/N)’s shoulders during one of their walks around the island. She kept insisting that she wasn’t cold, but after an extraordinarily chilly gust of wind hit the bare skin of her arms and made her involuntarily shiver, the woman gratefully accepted the warm woollen garment and wrapped it around herself tightly. Paul thought she looked precious. It was too big for her, the sleeves so long only the tips of her fingers were visible. He insisted she keep the sweater for as long as she needed it. Her sweet scent still lingered on the wool.

Father Paul took a deep breath once he stepped outside. Cool air filled his lungs and he could nearly feel his red blood cells rushing to distribute the oxygen throughout his body, instantly making him feel somewhat better. He stretched his neck and back and set off in a random direction, not really set on any specific destination.

His stroll really did him good, offering a pleasant distraction as he made his way through the lonely little fishing town, engaging in some verbal exchanges with various islanders on his way. He even chatted up the Sheriff for a while. While they were divided in matters of religion, both of them were still pretty much newcomers and could relate in certain subjects, and so they did share the odd conversation here and there. When he returned to the rectory later in the afternoon, he felt a bit jollier and managed to finally finish the homily he started writing shortly after he finished confessions in the morning.

Father Paul ate his dinner (a portion of casserole brought to him by Dolly Scarborough), took a shower, brushed his teeth and slid into his bed in a set of warm pyjamas, intent on a little Bible study before settling for sleep. But now, in the quiet of night, when there was really nothing he had to do and nobody to talk to, he was once more becoming distracted. He sighed again when he realised that he read the exact same verse three times without really noticing. Closing the book, he laid it upon the bedside table and turned the light off. It wasn’t late by any means, but still the priest lied down and shifted until he found a comfortable position.

Normally, he didn’t have problems nodding off, generally managing to do so within twenty minutes of settling, but tonight was different. Twenty minutes passed, then fourty, then an hour. He flipped and turned, but it seemed like every position became uncomfortable after a few minutes. Then he was cold, so he walked barefoot to the living room to fetch the blanket that was draped over his couch. Not ten minutes after he lay back down under the double layer of covers, he started sweating and had to kick one of his blankets away again. Father Paul groaned in frustration. He couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t sleep, what was he to do?

A beeping sound tore through the still and quiet. Paul opened his eyes and searched the room with his gaze. The opposite wall was slightly bathed in faint blue light. The priest got up again to walk towards his dresser where his phone was. (F/N) recently got him a simple smartphone. He still chuckled at the memory of her eyes adorably wide in shock upon seeing his old phone - It was already old by the time he got it, but he never really felt he needed a new one. He didn’t use it often at all, mainly for the occasional calls from his friends then, now from the dioceses, or the nursing home where Monsignor Pruitt currently resided.This time however, it was no call but rather a text message. A text message from (F/N). He carried the phone back to his bed and lied down again before opening the text.

“Hey,” it read, “I know it’s late and you’re probably long asleep, but I wanted to wish you goodnight anyway. x”

Father Paul grinned at the phone and his hands began automatically writing a reply: “That’s very kind, thank you. Did you have a nice journey?” He waited a minute or two. Then came another ‘beep beep’.

“Yep. It’s great to be back. I’m so sorry though, did I wake you?”

Paul was on his side, phone in front of his face, and he was finally feeling comfortable in his position, pleasantly warm but not overheating like before. “No,” he wrote back, “I was awake,” the priest barely stifled a yawn and found himself surprised at how heavy his eyelids became. “But now that you mention it…” he finished his text and sent it. He was in the middle of another yawn when the phone beeped once more.

“You better get your beauty sleep, father ;) Night night then, sweet dreams! x”

“Sweet dreams to you”

Paul put his phone on the bedside table and closed his eyes once more. This time it took no time at all for sleep to claim him. The priest slept with a smile on his face.

—

“You’re in a fine mood today, what gives?” asked Riley, annoyed. For once, it was just the two of them, as Joe was on the mainland, visiting his late sister’s family, probably for the first time ever. Paul was awfully grumpy today and he didn’t even really know why. He actually blamed it on the day itself - he woke up tired and groggy after only barely five hours of sleep. In his hurry to get to the daily mass, he forgot to tie one of his shoelaces - which backfired in him tripping over it and spilling communion wine all over his purple chasuble. Then after Bev came to collect the vestment so she could wash it (condescendingly telling him to be more careful, because he ‘could’ve gotten hurt’ in the process), there came a very unpleasant sound from the kitchen sink. Father Paul went towards it to investigate and tried turning the water on. Only a few tiny droplets of water came out of the faucet before another awful loud sound rumbled through it. The priest squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger in frustration.

It was a shitty day.

He snapped at Riley during the AA meeting (for not even a good enough reason) three times exactly, and it was obvious the young man was growing impatient with the priest. Paul sighed (he felt he did that an awful lot these days). “I’m sorry, Riley,” he began, and he meant it, “I’m having a rough day. Which is no excuse, of course, I shouldn’t take it out on you, so, sorry.” Riley’s eyes softened: “‘it’s alright.” They sat in silence for a while. “If you need to, you know, we can just wrap it up for today and meet up again when you’re more… yourself. The priest looked at him gratefully.

Sturge was standing in front of the rectory already when Paul and Riley exited the rec centre and Paul locked it. They said their goodbyes and both made their way home. The bearded man held a bag of tools in one of his hands, waiting for the pastor patiently. “Evening , father,” he said once Paul got within earshot. He greeted the man in return and was soon unlocking the door to his home. He explained everything to the handyman over the phone, so Sturge immediately set off to work, leaving Paul to his own devices. Father Paul felt rather miserable about the entire day and was pretty content to just morosely stare out of the windows and into the darkness. Until…

‘Beep, beep’

His ears perked up and he started fishing for his phone in his messenger bag. It was another message from (F/N). He opened it, but instead of text there was now a picture. It was a photo of her, standing in front of a waterfall with sun shining into her face. She was wearing a simple outdoor outfit, complete with large hiking boots and a trucker cap and she was smiling wide, as if right at him. Paul thought she looked absolutely beautiful. But then again, she always looked beautiful… He felt blood rush into his cheeks at the thought and was very glad Sturge was currently focusing on his work at the sink and couldn’t see him,

Father Paul was very much fond of his friend, enjoying every second he got to spend with her, but then there was… the other thing. Something more was growing within his heart ever since he met the young woman. And as their friendship got stronger, so did this feeling. This entirely unpriestly affection. And Paul tried to push it away, and he tried to bury it, and he tried to banish it with prayers. And it always came back, twice as strong.

He thought back on their conversations, both lighthearted and deep. Their gentle touches, all within the safe ranges of innocent friendship… Unlike his mind. He thought how she looked as she slept beside him, no more than a metre away. Once he was ill, the other time she was hurt. He wanted to reach for her both times, wanted to enfold her in his arms and hold her. He never did, of course. It wouldn’t be right. Only thing he allowed himself was to squeeze her hand or give a single light caress to her smooth cheek.

Father Paul was perfectly aware how inappropriate his feelings were for a catholic priest, he did vow to a life of celibacy after all. However, as much as he tried, he just couldn’t seem to shake them off. He spent hours and hours praying, pleading to be relieved of them, begging to be forgiven and yet one look at her always made him realise the futility of such prayers. Because everytime she looked back at him, he could see her eyes. He could feel the intensity with which she was regarding him. He could still feel where her lips touched his cheek and his forehead, he had the sensation of her warm body pressed into his when they fell asleep on his couch.

When their eyes locked, he was nearly certain. Nearly certain that she felt the same, that if he was to trap her in his arms and crush his mouth against her own, she would answer him in the same way. However, every time he was just about sure he was going to do just that, a horrible fear trapped him in its arms instead, and he cowardly ran away with his tail between his legs. Figuratively, that is.

“Uh, father?” Father Paul jumped so much it managed to startle Sturge as well. “Oh, sorry, my mind is a bit… elsewhere…” said the priest awkwardly, glad to be able to blame his hot cheeks on embarrassment rather than the fictional images of him engaging in all kinds of fun activities with (F/N)(L/N). “Um, the faucet is fixed. The filter was completely blocked. I checked the bathroom sink and shower too, they’re fine.” Paul, now recovered, nodded and thanked the bearded man, offering to make tea for him now the water was running again. Sturge politely declined and said his goodbyes, leaving the rectory a few moments later.

Looking at his phone again, Paul discovered another text message.

“Went hiking, hope your day was ok! x”

The pastor smiled at (F/N)’s photo again and then, in a moment of (madness) courage pressed the call symbol. For a few moments, he only listened to the dull dial tone, trying to calm his hammering heart and then: “Hey!” sounded her giddy voice and Paul’s heart skipped a beat, “how’s it going?” And despite feeling anything but calm, Paul sat on his sofa and began telling the young woman of his misfortune that day.

“Well, at least the faucet’s running. Small victories, Paul!” giggled (F/N) when he was finished, and to his own surprise, he chuckled too. Somehow, all the irritation he felt throughout the day due to his bad luck faded away once he told her and he felt like he could breathe a little lighter. He inquired about her hiking trip and even managed to compliment her on the photo without embarrassing himself too bad or weirding her out.

They could have spoken for 30 minutes, they could have spoken for 2 hours, Paul didn’t really know, but finally (F/N) said: “As much as I love talking to you, you should really try to get some more sleep today. Bev’s going to be vexed enough you’ll be wearing a different colour chasuble until the purple one’s clean. If you were to ruin another one the very next day, the next time I’d be seeing you would be in a wooden onesie,” Paul chuckled softly. “Still, I’m glad you called, it’s nice to hear you.” “It’s nice to hear you too,” Paul murmured. There was silence on the other end. “Well,” said the priest then, “Good night then, (Y/N).” He almost heard her smile into the phone. “Sweet dreams, Paul. Miss you,” and with that she hung up. The priest’s fingers were holding the phone in a vice grip. He was doomed.

—

Paul really did fall asleep easily that night. In his dreams, he saw himself as a young altar boy again, carrying the incense between pews. His parents were so proud of him, smiling from their seats at the very front. The image shifted - now he was laughing with his friends from seminary, sitting in a quiet little bar where the bartender didn’t want to see any IDs. He never really attended some of the crazier parties his mates went to, being more than happy to simply hang around with them somewhere calm. It was gone in the blink of an eye. Now he was standing in Saint Patrick’s wearing a golden chasuble on the second Sunday of ordinary time and looking at his new flock. In one of the pews sat a girl with what he could only describe as an angelic aura. She looked into his eyes and his breath caught in his throat.

Finally, he was back in his bed, but… not really. It was still his bedroom, his bed, his pyjamas, but it was neither reality nor a memory. (F/N) lied beside him - no, not quite beside him as on top of him. Her upper body was flush with his own, her head was resting on her hand on top of his breast and she was looking through her lashes at him, a soft smile on her face. One hand came to caress his cheek and he could swear he actually felt it. “I wish you were here,” he said, for once with no shame and guilt, knowing she’d never actually know. Hoping He would never know.

The Dream sighed and pulled herself a bit closer, making him gasp. He could oh so clearly feel her soft body sliding against his, her skin smoother than silk. Only now it occurred to him that she was barely dressed, covered only by a lightweight nightgown. Paul blushed heavily as he felt his body respond. The Dream again stroked his cheek: “She could be here, you know,” she said in that voice he adored. “I’m not sure about that…” he said truthfully again and shivered when she moved against him once more. She giggled airily and pressed a single kiss to his lips. “You’ll see when she gets back. But since I’m already here…” And Paul moaned into the next kiss. Their clothes disappeared.

Paul woke red faced and ashamed, soaked with sweat, with a stained hand and ruined pyjama bottoms.

—

The next few days were all spent in a similar fashion. Father Paul would do his duties as a priest, he’d lead sermons, hear confessions, prepare homilies. He’d walk around town, stroll through the island, talk to anyone who wished to talk to him. He’d listen to Bev’s passive-aggressive remarks about everyone (whom she deemed) who was unworthy of God’s love, and he’d meet with Riley and Joe in the rec centre some evenings. Afterwards he’d eat and only then would he call (F/N).

They always talked late into the evening, sharing stories, laughing quietly. Every night, she would mention the amount of days until she came. ‘Just four more days, then you’ll tell me everything in person.’ or ‘Three days left, can’t wait for all the gossip over tea!’ . And everytime, before she hung up, the young woman would say ‘Miss you’. Paul never said it back. He missed her like mad, and he did want to tell her so, but everytime he tried his voice failed him and he just sat on his couch, dumb as a fish. And after that The Dream would come back… Sometimes he’d just hold her, kiss her, sometimes they’d just talk. Other times she’d do things to him, things his mind would never dare imagine while conscious. Every morning was the same - The priest woke up either painfully aroused or already spent. In both cases a cold shower would fix the damage, and a prayer for strength and forgiveness would follow.

He was doomed. At the start, he was just so intrigued by her, by her wit and charm… by her beauty. If he only knew just how much he would (and he supposed there was no point in lying to himself anymore) fall in love with her, he’d probably keep some distance. A lot of distance. Then maybe he wouldn’t feel like he’d been torn apart and sloppily put back together now she was actually away. The very thought of beginning to set that distance now made him feel nauseous. Paul couldn’t just stop caring, couldn’t simply end their strolls, their quiet afternoons spent together, but neither did he feel at all ready to tell her how he felt. Maybe he should though.

The Dream told him once that he’s going to go mad, if he only ever lets himself face his feelings while he’s asleep. If he only allows himself relief when he has no control. He told her he felt rather mad already.

—

Two days to go. Paul sighed and crossed his legs, letting the Bible in his hands drop onto his thigh. Afternoon sun shone through the rectory’s windows, basking the room in golden light. He had no idea what he was going to do when (F/N) came back, no idea what he was going to say. It had been easier before The Dream started visiting him - before that he could try to fool himself into thinking that they really are only just friends, that his infatuation is a silly little crush on a pretty girl and that’s it. He could at the very least attempt to convince himself that even if he was in love with her, he had no carnal desires, no want to break his vows.

But oh, he yearned now. The Dream awoke a part of him he had forgotten long before his studies, if he ever really had it in the first place. And it was frightening. He was so afraid now, so afraid of his own body betraying him in her presence now. His heart longed for her to be back already, and his mind cowered in a corner with fear of her actually being here. The uneasy feeling inside of him only grew until he could no longer just sit still and do nothing, so he bookmarked his page and got up with the intention to make some tea to calm his nerves. He was just about to put the kettle on.

Knock knock-knock knock

The sound, the rhythm so familiar now, made his heart skip a beat and he nearly dropped everything he was holding. While his mind raced and heartbeat increased, his hands subconsciously moved to retrieve a second mug from a shelf. A mug he never used, because she always drank out of it. (F/N)’s mug, essentially. Finally he inhaled deeply, gathered up his courage and walked towards the front door. His breath caught in his throat once he opened them. (F/N) was smiling wide at him from where she stood, hair a mess and face flushed, and next to her feet lay a duffel bag. It hit Paul that she’s just arrived on the Belle and came directly to him, not even taking the time to drop off her luggage at home. All kinds of emotions rushed over him like a giant wave. He had so much to tell her and no idea how much he could tell her.

“Hi,” she said then a little awkwardly, “I know I said that I’d be gone for two more days, but um… I came back early, I guess?” Father Paul could see heavy blush settling on her cheeks and couldn’t help but grin at her too. “Hi yourself,” he said only, before he wrapped his arms around her in what he hoped she’d see as only a simple friendly ‘welcome’ hug. He froze a bit as she actually curled her arms around his waist before he fully closed his own. Her forehead touched the priest’s jaw and he felt her nose bump into his collar bone, before the young woman shifted and tucked her head under his chin.

Father Paul’s worries all seemed to melt away and he gratefully squeezed (F/N) close, her scent filling his nostrils and making him feel warm and content. “Welcome back,” he said once he pulled away, though his hands were holding her shoulders still. Her eyes were so open and inviting, so soulful Paul was sure he’d find all answers to the universe in them, if he only looked deep enough. Their little moment was shattered by a high pitched whistling. “Uh,” he dropped his gaze to his feet, “tea?” “Oh yes!” she replied, enthusiastically, “I want to know everything that happened while I was gone. I’m interrogating, I mean, visiting Erin later.” The priest laughed as he led the way inside: “I’m afraid there’s not much more other than what I already told you. It’s a small island after all.”

Father Paul was not ready to reveal his feelings just yet, but something told him the day was coming.

—

That something was proven right merely a week and a half later, when he walked towards the rectory with a slice of cherry pie. And it was proven right once more, when the very next day (or rather night) his tongue was sliding softly against that of (F/N)(L/N) and her body was trapped under his own, hanging onto him like a lifeline. The feeling of her hands - her actual, real hands - carding through his hair and caressing every inch of him they could reach was a million times better than any dream.

No, not doomed. Father Paul was blessed.

Thank you for reading, as always you can find this work and the entire series on AO3. I’m a happy little potato for reviews ;-; k, i’m going to bed, sweet dreams, x

#midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #reader insert #father paul #father paul hill #father paul x reader #father paul hill x reader #texting #mutual pining #fluff #idiots in love

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xxyourlittleangelz · 1 year

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Is this stupid? Probably. But do I like it and find it cute? Yes.

Sit back and buckle up you fucking precious human because this makes no sense:) enjoy!💜

I haven’t written for these guys in a while so I thought why not! This is based off of something I’ve written before about konig but I wanted to do it for these guys<3

Below I’ve listed two different sounds just depending on what you want ! <33333

I recommend listening to one of them for the best experience!

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

☁️N i g h t m a r e s☁️

This react includes: Michael, Jason, Thomas.

🚩🚩🚩IMPORTANT: I write micheal a little differently then some (I’m sure others have done the same so I am NOT taking credit for it) but I write him in a way where he is VOCAL if this isn’t your cup of tea I’m sorry but I do have other reacts with him where he isn’t!🚩🚩🚩

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Micheal🎃:Micheal doesn’t really dream per say

It’s hard to explain how micheal dreams sometimes you think he doesn’t even sleep.

On this night in particular he noticed how you tossed and turned

To be frank he didn’t think much of it until you started crying.

He couldn’t make out what you were saying but understood that it hurt you deeply.

Therefore it pissed him off.

So doing the only thing he knows he thought back to his mom.

She always (when she was home anyways) held him.

Micheal almost cringed at the thought of being “soft” BUT it was you.

You were completely different from the others. (Obviously)

So this big guy threw his arm around you and pulled you close.

You calmed down a bit once you got close to him

He WILL tease you about this.

“Your such a baby. Having me hold you”

It can come off as mean (It’s micheal) but he actually isn’t trying to be mean.

And if you ever have a nightmare again micheal is quick to hold you.

On occasion(RARE) he’ll even whisper sweet words into your ear.

DO NOT TEASE HIM he will flat deny this.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason🏕️:Jay has had his fair share of bad dreams

Even now!

You had went to bed before which wasn’t uncommon

He does late walks around the camps

When he returned home he heard you whimpering.

He’s first thought was you were hurt or one of the campers found you.

He rushed into the bedroom almost taking the damn door off.

But you were okay?

You weren’t bleeding and there was no one but you two in the cabin.

He stood at the end of the bed tilting his head to the right.

Then it hit him. You were having a bad dream!

He quickly put down his things on the little table you had in the room and got into bed

He remembers his mother holding him and talking to him when he had a bad dream.

He tries his best to soothe you.

He lets you cuddle up to him as he’s afraid of hurting you if he pulls you to him.

(And it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together Jay is a gentle boy <333)

This being said sometimes he can’t be there so he always leaves a shirt/jacket for you to cuddle up to.

He doesn’t tease you like Michael but does find it adorable that you seek him out for comfort!<3

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Thomas🧸:poor man is so tired from the day he doesn’t even know if he can dream.

But when finds out you have bad dreams he feels bad!

He can’t protect you from them which makes him feel bad.

He’ll cuddled you!

And even tried to hum one time (it was cute in a way)

He’ll listen to you if you wish to talk about it but won’t push.

Will NOT allow anyone to tease you about it.

Hoyt made that mistake ONCE.

He found a little bear in the basement so he cleaned it up and gave it to you!

10/10 he’s so sweet about it!!<3

#credit to original owner #gifs not mine #thomas hewitt x y/n #micheal myers x y/n #jason voorhees x y/n #SoundCloud

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babylockley · 2 years

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Moon boys calling reader by their name prank (gone wrong!) part 1 of 3

(Authors note: Hiiii everyone! So I haven’t written in a VERY long time!! I’m trying to get myself back into it again. Letting my creative juices flow through this brain of mine! 🤭 With that being said though I’d love feed back / ideas. But plz be gentle with feedback 🥺 I’m a sensitive lil one.)

Steven: Steven finds himself snickering at his phone at half past three in the morning watching tiktok videos. It started off innocent really. He was meant to just watch one video that you sent him then just one thing lead to another and now he’s somehow come across couples pranks, and challenges. One in particular caught his attention about calling your partner by their name instead of their; well second nature of a name aka pet name. Steven usually calls (y/n) darling, or love….but her most favorite is his little tea cup. It just makes her giggle because it’s so different but she loves it.

Later on that morning he wakes to his little tea cup giving sweet soft kisses like she usually does every morning. But he quickly remembers what he was meant to do today. “Mmm morning, (y/n)” he yawns a bit and it takes everything in him not to break as she freezes up a bit and tilts her head a little. He has to be honest it felt very foreign to him also as he doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever- well they’ve called each other by their actual names. But they continued with their morning routine.

Steven kept it up all day but the last straw for little miss tea cup was when she asked if they could go for their little evening stroll to the park “yes, (y/n) if that’s what you’d like” oh boy did that bring the tears that were like a flash flood to Steven. “Was it not a bad dream?!” (Y/n) whispered to herself “are you- are you done with me? Are you leaving me?!” She cries and has those little hiccups. His eyes widen and goes to her immediately picking her up. “no no no that’s not at all what’s happening here. I’m so sorry, love. I - I was just trying to prank you. That is all. I just wanted to see what you’d be like if I didn’t call you anything other than by your name. What in the bloody hell would make you think I want to break up with you?!” She sniffles and rubs her eyes as she sits up on his lap “I had a bad dream last night that you left me all alone in the middle of a date. Not necessarily broke up but I just couldn’t find you and and it was scary and some creepy stranger in my dream said you left me. I thought that was coming true. That you were going to leave me!!” She cries then proceeds to hug Steven like a baby koala.

Well that makes sense why she didn’t want to join him to get some food from her favorite restaurant earlier on and why you’ve been bit more clingy than usual, very sensitive as well.

He sighs as he wraps his arms around her tightly and coos as he gently rubs her back kicking himself even if was just a bad dream and for even trying to prank. “I’m so sorry, my little tea cup. I can assure you I’d never ever do that to you. Ever. I’d be right out of my mind to ever want to leave my little tea cup. Let me make it up to you, yeah? How about we bake some of your favorite cookies and make some hot cocoa” he smothers her with kisses “and I’ll give you all the snuggles tonight. I’ll even let you pick which film we watch.” Steven coos softly while he cradled the back of her head, then kisses her forehead.

Needless to say Steven made it all up to his little tea cup and also poured his hot tea into his little tea cup later that night….if you know what I mean ;))

#Steven grant x reader #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #daddy #marvel #fics #Drabbles

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gloryride · 2 years

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Tag 10 people you want to get to know better

Tagged by: @smilepal, thanks ♥♥

Relationship status: civil union with @draerian ♥

Favourite colour(s): Royal Blue, Forrest Green

Favourite food/drinks: Raclette is one of my favorite dishes, as well as squid ink pasta ; but with my sweet tooth, I love mint and chocolate ♥ non-alcoholic drink is just fruit tea, otherwise it's champagne (a)

Song stuck in you head: Bubblegum Bitch - Marina

Last thing you googled: how to say "voltigeur" in english XD

Time: 2:50pm

Dream trip: Even though I don't live far away, I've never been to Rome and I dream about it so much! Otherwise, my dream is to go to Iceland, to see puffins and whales

Last book you read: Les Liaisons Dangereuses, by Choderlos de Laclos, one of my favorite books, it is so well written and the plot is perfect

Last book you enjoyed reading: The same above ♥

Last book you hated reading: The Art of Joy, Goliarda Sapienza. I read it all the way through, I didn't understand the hype of this book because I found the character hateful and she never pays for her horrors. I didn't see the joy in it, personally

Bonus! favourite to cook/bake: I love making risotto, watching the rice and thinking about what to put in it, the possibilities are endless (but I especially love with Saint-Jacques and asparagus)

Favourite craft to do in your free time: Virtual photogrphy (VP), writing), i left drawing for now but i enjoy too. I miss sewing sometimes

Opinion on the circus: I loved it as a child, without knowing the treatment of animals. Today, I don't go there much anymore, I run away from those with animals in them. I especially love the outfielders!

Do you have a sense of direction: Absolutely not! If I don't know the area, I am lost without a map/gps or my partner x) I need time to learn to find my way around

Tagging: @wanderingaldecaldo @pheedraws @bnbc @ravenstrange @angynomadsimp @a-pirate @blishie @fereldanwench @breezypunk @arcandoria ... no pressure of course and sorry if you already did this ♥

#things about me #tag game #for once i'm not late x)

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dandruflakes · 2 months

Text

I Always Wanted to be Saved

I sat alone in a coffee shop, switching my attention between the work on my laptop and the surroundings: the strangers talking, the car sounds from afar, and the wind hitting things. I was trying to understand what I was doing, why I was doing it, and how I had even gotten to this point in life. Was I just dreaming? It doesn't feel real that I am alive, and all the experiences I've been through are even more fictitious. Minutes later, I just forgot and moved on with whatever tasks were on my hand.

"Oh shit, I am five minutes late to this meeting."

To be alive means to be able to avoid transitioning to the entropy state for as long as possible, and here I am, being alive, being extremely lucky. I am part of a collection of matters that make it to the extreme side of the distribution function. That is crazily awesome. The odds of living are unbelievably low, and it is even lower to have intelligence. At least for me, it is undeniably difficult not to ask a question about the purpose of life. Questions after questions, answers after answers, really did its work on my head.

"Whoa, I was not listening this whole time."

"Sorry, boleh diulang pertanyaannya?"

"Why am I even in this meeting? What is my role here? They all should have been fired."

From my standpoint, I am just a kid whose needs have always been neglected. I wanted a flashy pair of shoes, a sweet apple tea beverage, and to study from textbooks that should have been bought instead of pages of written text that I copied from my friend's books. I also wanted a harmonious family like the other kids.

If I have children, I want them to have me as they need me to be. I want them to have a place to talk to when life gets hard. Maybe someone in school bullies them, or they are in their puberty, or their first heartbreak, and helping them to understand every difficult emotion I had to deal with alone as I was a kid.

I am tired of telling stories about how dark my life has been. It's not that dark, anyway. After meeting a bunch of people throughout my life, to be frank, some of their lives were terrible, yet they developed a positive outlook toward life. The way I perceive and interpret things makes no sense.

Then I looked around and arbitrarily chose a stranger to put my focus on. I wondered what this rando was thinking and what adventure they had so they became the person they are now. Subjective experience is always fascinating to me. That's why I love to talk to people, peeling off layers and trying to unravel the internal mechanisms of their minds.

I always feel that I don't need anyone to save me. I am perfectly capable of handling most of my own issues. But life goes on, and the world keeps changing. My emotions, problems, dreams, and goals have become increasingly complex. Then it hits me; the need to bond deeper connections with others is supposed to be greater from this point in time. They need to understand me better, and I need to understand others better so we both save each other in the right way and at the right time.

"She is cute, intelligent, and passionate about what she does. What is she thinking right now? Why do I feel naturally attracted to certain traits, behaviors, and characteristics but not others? What kind of people do I naturally attract?"

The online meeting ended. "Bye, everyone, thanks."

No wild animals were trying to attack me, nor was someone in sight actively trying to kill me. I was safe. As far as I could see, there were no real dangers, yet I felt anxious. Fears were creeping up on me. My body tensed up. My mind was racing. I just wanted to get this over with.

I admire the way you think about yourself. You don't expect me to be your savior. You just sat there and were there for me.

"Two heroes."

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

Note

Hey bestie may I request diluc,childe,zhongli,and venti having a bad nightmare over their s/o wanting to break up with them and when they wake up their s/o isn’t there but really they’re in another room or something if that makes sense!! Thank you 🤑

Hi bestie positively evil... i love it <3 nobody question why zhongli and the reader are married in all my headcanons thanks lmao

Pairings; (Seperate) Diluc, Childe, Zhongli, and Venti x reader

Warning(s); panic, nightmares, hurt/comfort, injury mention

Keep reading under the cut!

Diluc

Diluc wakes with a start, his brows furrowed as he takes a moment to arrange the events of his nightmare in his head

Both you and he had a particularly explosive argument after he had come back injured from a night protecting Mondstat

You had left the winery after exclaiming that you refuse to date someone who has such a lack of regard for his own life. In the long run you’d be saving yourself from further heartbreak if he ended up dead on the front porch

Diluc wonders if dream you could be right...

The red-head finally notices the cold side of the bed you should be sleeping on. He more than remembers going to sleep with you

Panic sets in at the bottom of Dilucs stomach. He must be imagining things right? You’re probably just in the bathroom

A beat passes

Then three

No, you’re not in the bathroom. He would have heard you by now...

What if the dream was actually what had happened last night. A breath catches in the mans throat as he gets out of bed and throws a shirt on

If he couldn’t find you in his home has he truly lost you?

Diluc speedily walks through the halls of his home, checking the spare rooms, the study, the library, the living room, the dining room, the

Diluc opens the door to the kitchen his heart threatening to break out of his chest at the pace it’s beating when he finally spots you drinking a cup of tea, in your pajamas

Thank the archons it was just a dream

“Diluc, honey, are you okay?” you ask getting up from the table in the kitchen to your sweating, hyperventilating partner

Diluc says nothing but opts to hugging you, his head bowing to your chest as he breaths you in

“Diluc, you’re worrying me” you tell him returning his embrace and rubbing circles on his back

“You weren’t in bed” is all he offers to tell you. You don’t push him on the details of why he is so panicked

“I couldn’t sleep so I came down for a herbal tea” you explain kissing the man on his bed of fluffy hair “I have a cup left in the kettle, I can pour one out for you” you offer

“Please” he breathes, but doesn’t move to let you go from the embrace, you can stand to hold him and tell him sweet nothings for a little while. Tea can always be reheated

Childe

It would only be right, and he suspected as much. You had told him that because of what has recently transpired in Liyue you cannot find yourself to love a brutal harbinger

Maybe its for the best. Childe concludes not paying much attention to his weeping heart. Maybe, you’d be happier not to be under the constant eye and scrutiny of the Qixing, the Milleth, and the watchful eye of Childes own fatui informants

Without much pause form Childes last thought the man finds himself waking in his room, unsure if the dream was reality or his mind playing tricks on him, he feels your side of the bed and notices a distinct lack of warmth... and you

He cries

Childe curls himself up in a ball determined to not get caught by anyone showing such an extreme and out of character emotion, he let himself cry. He’s pretty sure he’s sobbing loudly but he doesn’t care. It’s just him in the house anyway. The one person that he doesn’t mind seeing such emotions has left him

That’s until he hears the distinct click of the bedroom door open “Oh my archon Childe, are you okay?” you ask quickly making your way to the side of his bed and placing a hand on his shoulder

The man looks up to you, he isn’t sure if you’re real

“I thought-” he starts “I had a-” he tries to find his words without seeming like a crazed person “You weren’t-”

“It’s okay babe, I’m right here. I’m not planning on going anywhere” you console “I just had an epiphany in my dream and I had to write it down” you add explaining your absence. Childe nods along

“Stay” he tells you as you wipe the tears out of his eyes. You nod and hum

“Of course” you lay onto the bed and let Childe wrap himself around you

You hum him to sleep and whisper sweet nothings

Zhongli

‘I can’t love you anymore Zhongli, I feel obligated to come back to Liyue after every adventure, it’s starting to take a toll on me’

‘But our vows, [name] we made a contract at the altar’

‘To love each other, yes? Zhongli there’s no love left in this marriage, you sleep in the spare bedroom whenever I’m back, we sit in silence over dinner, I don’t think I’ve kissed you in months. The lack of love itself is the breach in the contract’

‘But I-’

‘Think about it, do you really feel the same love that you felt on the day we got married?’

‘[name]-’

Zhongli wakes up with a start, his heart beats a little fast for a second. The man convinces himself it’s just a dream he had, but the coldness of your side of the bed seems to speak otherwise

In all fairness, Zhongli should have rationalised his dream before he started wondering the house like a mad man. The only time he sleeps in the other bed is when you’ve suffered an extreme injury, dinners are often spent with jolly laughs and conversation. And Zhongli prides himself on the amount of affection he gives you around the house... and in the bedroom

But most things aren’t making sense in his head right now

“Zhongli my love” you call him upon noticing him in the hall. You had just come out of the bathroom after a midnight toilet break “Are you okay darling?” you ask placing a hand on his shoulder

The tenseness in Zhongli’s shoulders dissipate as soon as you initiate the touch

“I love you” he tells you, the declaration is out of nowhere to you. But you smile at him and embrace him

“And I love you too” you pause bringing up your hand baring the ring that sits on it “And this ring is a reminder of our vows and my unyielding love to you” you tell him with a smile

Zhongli chuckles at you and returns your hug “You seem to always know how to comfort me my dear”

“It’s because I’m a mind reader” you jest matching your spouses chuckle

Venti

Disappeared. So much so that the thousand winds could tell Venti that you were in fact not in Mondstat and had travelled to Liyue from the time Venti was playing music in the tavern to when he knocked for you early the next morning

The only trace you left was a letter. Unmistakeably written by your hand

‘Venti, writing this in a letter is much easier than saying this to your face. I am quite simply tired of your antics, no matter try to talk to you, you seem to always brush me off. Be it the nights you spend at the tavern, my general concern when you disappear for days at end just to tell me you were at the thousand winds temple, stormterrors lair, or windrise, no matter how much I tell you I checked all three. Being in a constant state of concern isn’t good for me, it’s emotionally draining and I’m terrified of finding you dead somewhere, despite your archon blood. By the time you read this I’ll be in Liyue where I’ll be staying with a friend for a while. Tell me I’m going somewhere you can’t follow, and I’ll tell you this is how I have felt many a night. I wish I could have kept loving you, [name]’

A harsh way to break up Venti admits to himself rereading the paper a few times before waking up

A dream?

Venti holds his chest, surely a dream couldn’t conjure such a horrific sinking feeling that makes him want to just vomit

Looking to your side of the bed for your comfort the sinking feeling intensifies when he doesn’t see you

So it wasn’t a dream? Venti doesn’t want to call on his kin, the thousand winds, again just to be told once more that you’re currently in Liyue sipping tea with this cousin you had mentioned in the letter

The archon sits up in bed and takes deep breaths, he doesn’t want to explain to anybody that he had a panic attack over your horrific breakup letter, no no

After calming his breaths Venti steps out of bed with a shaky few steps before walking downstairs to engage in the typical breakout routine. Snacking. Maybe when you left you had elected to ignore some of the snacks you love to litter about your abode

When Venti walks in to the living room towards the kitchen he sees you nursing your head on the couch

“[name]?” he asks in almost disbelief

“Hm,” you answer before looking up to Venti “Oh hey love, sorry I’ve got a headache” you greet properly after a moment. Venti grins at you which causes you to tilt your head. Why is your headache so grin worthy? Weird...

“Would you like some paracetamol?” he asks walking beside you, you shake your head

“I just took some” you reply looking up at your partner “Though I’d love to rest my head on your thighs” you add. Venti more then obliges and settles down on the couch

“You know I had the strangest dream” Venti tells you after a prolonged amount of silence, you hum to let him know you’re listening “You left me” he says bluntly

Damn

You bring yourself up to Venti’s face with a smile and give him a kiss “I love you Venti, I wouldn’t leave you for even the prettiest lyre” you half console half jest

“That’s because the prettiest lyre is mine” Venti chuckles and you nod pressing another kiss to Venti’s lips

guys it’s 2.42am I’m so sorry if there’s grammatical errors, my brain isn’t catching up rn

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #genshin diluc #genshin childe #genshin zhongli #genshin venti #diluc #childe #zhongli #venti #hurt/comfort #nightmares

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mjolnir-steve · 3 years

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing.

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it.

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you.

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back.

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look. “How long was the interaction anyway?”

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything.

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question.

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur.

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor.

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm.

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jungkook fic

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msmarvelwrites · 3 years

Text

Almost Is Never Enough

Summary: Ever since Steve had come out of the ice all those years ago, his only goal had been to get back to Peggy Carter. A home that was waiting and forgetting him all at once. But that doesn't make it any easier to watch him go.

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Angst, angst, just a little bit of angst, fluff, language.

Word Count: 2.4k

Authors Note: Thank you to the wonderful @remmiesour for this request. It’s been a decade, but I finally got around to it! I’ve never written for Steve and honestly I didn't think I ever would but, famous last words I guess! Enjoy!

Ever since Steve had come out of the ice all those years ago, his only goal had been to get back to her. A home that was waiting and forgetting him all at once. She was there, and if it was the last thing he did, he would be too.

So, when the opportunity presented itself, when he could actually find his long lost love, you already knew he had made the decision before the words fell from his lips.

You knew. But god, that didn't make it any easier.

You hadn’t meant for it to happen, falling in love with the world's most unavailable man. In every sense of the word, it was an accident.

And yet, there you stood, eyes trained on his face as he laughed with his friends. The sound ripping through you like it always did. For the past week you had been trying to memorize the sound. The way it filled the room, pulling smiles from everyone who heard it.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love with Steve Rogers, but that is exactly what you did.

“Ya know,” Bucky’s gravely voice started behind you, pulling your attention away from Steve and towards his friend. “If you're planning on telling him, I’d do it now.”

You furrowed your brow at the brunette, a false confusion clouding your eyes. You shook your head, only pulling a scoff from his stubble framed lips.

“Don’t play that with me. I see the way you look at him.” He smiled softly, watching as your eyes flicked back to the godlike man.

Bucky was only trying to help. But in your case, you were just too late. You had your moment. Several if you were being honest. Steve deserved someone who wasn't afraid to tell him how they felt. Someone strong and brave.

Someone like Peggy Carter.

“I missed my chance.” You hummed, taking a sip from the bottle of stale beer in your hand. You grimised at the bitterness, the liquid courage doing nothing for your spirit. Only serving as a half assed reminder of what a coward you really were.

How many times had those three words almost fallen from your mouth? How many moments passed- longing stares and lingering touches? Surely too many to keep count. But it didn't change the truth.

He didn't love you, and he was leaving.

“I think that he deserves to know what he’s leaving behind.” Bucky whispers against your ear, the words pulling at your heart.

Only you and he knew the truth. Today was not a celebration of wins… It was a send off.

“He deserves to be happy.” You choked out, your eyes meeting Steves from across the room, his softening when he was your hollow form. You faked a smile, though it didn't fool the Captain as he began to make his way over to you.

“And what about you?” You snapped your head to meet Bucky, your eyes serious and tone stern.

“Stop it. Please.”

Bucky raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as Steve approached you. His voice calling your name melted over you like honey in tea. So sweet, but always ready to burn if not careful.

You met his gaze, his blue eyes sparkling down at you, inviting you in. You could drown in the oceans of his iris, in fact, you had on many occasions. Tonight was no exception.

“Could I steal you away for a moment?” He asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts, coated in kindness.

The moment his eyes met yours, you were a goner. A mess from the second he said your name. It was pathetic, but then again, isn’t that what you were? Doomed from the first day he walked into your life, taking up every thought in your head.

“Of course.” You tried to smile, forcing it on your quivering lips. You hoped Steve didn’t notice, and of course, he didn’t. He never noticed. If he had, perhaps you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Steve pulled you along, hand in hand as he led your outside into the night. Darkness acting as a veil covering your hurt. Part of you wanted to scream. Needed it. Though, it wouldn’t do much now.

“Do you remember when we first met?” His question echoed around you, pulling you to the memory of your first encounter.

Of course you remembered. It replayed in your head like a broken record every night. A thousand ‘what if’s’ swirling around the memory.

The day he asked you to dance at one of Tony’s elaborate fundraisers for charity. He was like something out of a dream, the way he walked across that dance floor to you. The way his voice asked that daunting question. The way you swooned the moment his hands touched yours, pulling you in and spinning you around the room.

It all felt so distant now. As if you had made the entire thing up in your head.

Sometimes you wish you had.

“I remember you being a terrible dancer.” You joked, worrying on your bottom lip as Steve's laugh echoed around you.

“See, that's the problem. I don’t have much practice and I owe a dame a dance.” His words were sincere and yet dripped in venom. They cut you deep, poison darting straight to your heart.

“You want me to help you… Dance?” You tried not to let your face show how truly hollow you felt.

You had to force yourself not to cringe away when he took your hand, pulling you gently against his chest. You could have died right there, drowned in your own self loathing, overcome with jealousy for a woman who, at this very moment, was nothing more than a tombstone. She was gone, nothing but a memory and still- Steve picked her.

With a broken breath, you rested your hand on his shoulder, shivering at his touch. You should pull away, save yourself from the ache. But the way he held you- gently and with a foreign love you would never feel from Steve, your body stayed. You had wondered what it would be like. Wrapped up in his arms, your name on his mouth, his lips on your throat. You had imagined it more times than you cared to admit.

One dance couldn't hurt.

You let him take the lead, swaying you slowly into the night. His hand on your waist, guiding you to a silent melody.

“Ya know, there was a moment that I thought it might be us.” His words whispered against your neck, freezing you in time. You swore your veins turned to ice at the cruelty of his remark. All you could do was gape.

Steve pulled away to look at you, watching your face turn pale and eyes fill with tears.

“How could you- This is a bad idea. I can’t do this, Steve.” You choked out, horrified at how little your voice sounded. You hated how he made you feel, small and broken. If you were, it was only because he made you that way.

“I didn't mean to-”

“Didn't you? I respect myself too much to beg you to stay. But what the fuck, Steve? How can you stand there, one foot out the door and tell me that?” You were shattered, hand over your heart as if it might fall out at any moment. “I’ve followed you around like you were the sun. I’d do anything for you. But I won’t watch you walk away. Not when all that’s waiting for you is a ghost. I love you too much, and it breaks my heart that you can’t even consider that I could… That I might…”

“Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I just-” Your name fell from his lips like a plea, but you couldn't stand there and listen to him try to mend what was already so irreversibly broken.

“No- Just stop.” You blurted, turning away and pulling yourself from his grasp. “I’ve been second to her my whole life. I’m numb to it now. But don’t make excuses for your shitty decision. If you want to go, go.” With that, you pushed away from him, heading back to the party and away from the man who, come tomorrow, would be forever out of reach.

The next morning you woke up, eyes burning from the tears shed the night before and chest heavy with guilt.

Part of you knew there was a better way to say the things you did, but another part reveled in your cruelty. Basked in how dumbstruck Steve looked standing on the lawn. Maybe it was mean, but so was he.

It wouldn't matter for long. The afternoon sun was creeping in and soon he would be gone. Nothing but a distorted memory of a man you used to love. But at least he knew. At least when he laid beside his consolation prize he would remember you. Maybe he would hurt. You cringed at the idea.

No matter how much you wanted to hate Steve, your heart simply wouldn't allow it. That was the worst joke of all. You despised the man you loved.

Buck: He’s waiting for you…

You looked down at your phone on the bedside table, wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek. You knew it was time. This was the moment that you had prepared for. But you made a promise last night- one you were far too petty to fall back on now.

Though even still, as the seconds lulled by, guilt began to eat away at your brain and before you knew it you were half way out the door. Your feet dragged you down the hall, forcing you to confront the horrible truth.

You knew he was gone before Bucky even spoke the words. His eyes filled with a sadness only you could know. Shoulders slumped as he struggled to hold his gaze. He shook his head, affirming your worst fears as Sam’s panicked voice broke through the tension.

“Get him back here!” He shouted, his tone filled with dread. It was torture to watch, unberable to feel.

A loud crackle erupted through the air almost knocking you off your feet. Through the piercing white flash, you saw a figure. If you didn't know any better you would have thought-

There, in all of his glory, was Steve Rogers. Perfect and untouched. Like a statue carved from marble.

All you could do was gape, hand over mouth as he stepped down the tarmac, a smile that could instill world peace plastered on his pink lips. Your whole body vibrated with nerves. Somewhere between anger and hope.

Your name fell from his lips, but you couldn't hear it over the hammering of your heart, your feet already carrying you across the field.

“What the hell are you-”

“It’s you, doll.” He beamed, his words only fueling a rage that was threatening to boil over the closer you got. “It’s always been you. I can't believe I didn't see it until-”

Your fist colliding with his stoney jaw cut him off before he could finish. You pushed against his, palms thrashing at his chest as he tried to fend you off. Of course, he could if he truly wanted to, you knew this.

“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begged, holding your wrists tight as you went to take another hit. You tried to yank yourself away from him, but it was no use. “I was stupid, doll. A complete idiot and I didnt see what was right in front of me. Tell me it’s not too late. Tell me I still have a chance.” Steve's eyes brimmed with tears as your heart thundered in your chest.

You could only blink, your mind racing between a thousand reasons to walk away. To close the chapter on your love with Steve for good. So why did you stay? As if it wasn't torture enough. As if he hadn't beaten your heart black and blue with his carelessness. You wanted to run, but amidst the broken shards of your heart was a naive girl desperate with hope. And so, with a half step, you closed the distance, taking the deadly plunge as your lips collided with his.

Steve drank you in, his mouth moulding to yours the instant you met. His hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you in until you arched back against him. Nothing in the world could have prepared you for how completely and irrevocably intoxicating he was. His presence over you melting you into a puddle before him.

Steve's tongue gently ran across your bottom lip pulling a gutteral shutter to wrack through your body. The taste of him permanently cemented into your mouth. It was the soft moan that escaped the back of his throat that finally did you in, buckling your knees as you held onto the soldier for dear life.

It wasn't until Sam’s voice echoed around you that you finally pulled away from Steve. Your body’s untwining as the rest of the world came back into focus.

“Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on? What is she talking about?” Sam shouted, pointing his finger at you exasperatingly.

“I- I… I don't…” Your words fell to the back of your throat, the memory of Steve’s lips ingrained in your skin. You couldn't think, much less form a coherent sentence as he looked down at you, that boyish grin plastered on his mouth. The way his eyes sparkled, tears filled with a longing you had seen many times, but never from him.

“Were you not coming back?!” Sam blurted abruptly causing Steve to snap his head in the falcons direction.

“No.” Steve spoke simply, his gaze returning to you. Eyes filled with an answer you had been wracking your brain for. “I could never leave my best girl.”

You scoffed, your gaze only leaving Steve’s for a moment. His words were kind, his lips intoxicating. But there was a nagging in your heart, pulling you from your dreamstate and back to reality.

“Best girl, huh?” You signed, leaning into him as you chased his touch. “I think I’m going to need you to prove that, Rogers.”

Steve chuckled, the low rumble vibrating through your chest. His smile seemed brighter than you’d ever seen, reassuring you that this was the only place he wanted to be. “For as long as I can, darling.”

#steve x reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader

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sunlightwoo · 3 years

Text

Run With Hell | Ride Along Prequel

☀︎ pairing: bad boy!sunwoo x fem!reader

☀︎ genre: summer fling au, angst, squints of fluff, bad boy au, lovers to exes au warning: suggestive/sexual language and content, mentions of alcohol and partying

☀︎ wc: 4.1k

☀︎ plot: summer hues may bring in the summer blues, but this one person you spend your summer with just so happens to be the one person that you needed in that moment. instead of the place that he needed to end up being in, he lets you take him back to your place and see where it goes from there, thinking that maybe it might just be a summer bet and nothing more than that.

☀︎ a/n: this was originally a scrapped idea back from like 2018 and i never brought it back up to surface until recently these last few months actually from when i started planning ride along and then sunwoo’s verse in hate came out, which sparked more ideas!! so i hope you guys enjoy the prequel to it, in which you learn more about the history between Sunflower and Sunwoo’s relationship, even though this is not one of my best oneshots im sorry :( it can be read as a standalone, but it’d be cool if you read this and then ride along if you haven’t read it yet!!

read ride along here!

track one: moonlight | i never knew, you could hold moonlight in your hands

The soft breeze of the summer winds blew past your hair, your arms wrapped around yourself as your eyes were trained on the scenery in front of you. Comforts of the beach seem to have always made you calmer than you have been, and you think that these last two years of your life had been a fever dream considering the roller coaster of events that you have been through.

You remember waking up in a hospital the night that your brother, Jacob, had an important race to compete in, and because of that, you didn’t want to break his winning streak by being bad luck. The moments prior to that were unable to be recalled for as the only reliable information you can get was from the doctor, explaining that you had consumed something before you had blacked out that had made you almost comatose, if it weren’t for someone that had saved you that night.

There were often times where you thought about what had happened at that exact moment, but it didn’t distract you from where your mind had been leading you the following day when you were discharged already because of Jacob. You weren’t sure where he had gone that moment, but all you could remember was reading a note with his scribbles that mentioned where he had left it.

A final decision that he had to decide on with a gig that he had gotten for his music career was what he had been working on, and you couldn’t be happier for him. That following morning, you found yourself at the cafe that was across from where you were staying temporarily, eyes darting across the beautiful cursive chalk that was written on a board for the menu, and you couldn’t help but feel like there were a pair of eyes that were stuck onto you.

With a quick glance around the shop, even if there wasn’t a line behind you, you noticed a guy that sat by the window with his eyes trained onto yours. An accidental eye contact, you might’ve thought to yourself as the handsome stranger had given you a small smirk across his lips, but you have already turned back around to quickly place an order for a tea that was taken to go.

You had known who he was, considering his name was already spread among the city that you lived despite it being your summer before your first year of college. How it had easily slipped from your own tongue if anybody were to ask you, who is the biggest playboy that is known in your graduating class, and it had to be him. If it weren’t for the fact that he had an overpowering aura that radiated from him, then maybe you would’ve gotten to know him more.

But you didn’t want to, because you knew what guys like him were like.

It was guys like him that made you want to hide away into the comforts of your personal safety net because you knew he was too beautiful and confident to be good. A chaotic driven force that you think was meant to be encountered with was what he had seemed like, ready to clash into your lawful good that the more that you thought about it, you wondered what more of him was like if you were to say hello.

Now it was a little over a year later in the summer before your junior year of college and you think that it’s comical that somehow the same stranger had caught your heart. After a semester and a half of trying to win you over as a friend throughout your first year, he was able to convince you that maybe hanging out one spring night at the beach wouldn’t be too bad, right?

“Sorry I’m late, Sunflower. Got stuck trying to find a way to park the car without dealing with some asshole again.”

Your eyes look up to meet the same warm ones that welcomed you as the red hair he had coated this time around seemed to have blended in with the night sky. He takes a seat next to you and wraps his arms around his knees that were being hugged close to his chest, until he takes a look over to you once more with a soft smile on his face.

“It’s okay, Sunwoo. I haven’t been here that long anyways.” You reply quietly, giving him a smile back as you bit back everything that was on your tongue.

You had already been there for almost two hours waiting for him, collecting your thoughts as you wondered what the two of you were in that exact timing. There were times where you wanted to just kiss him as a way to shut him up whenever he rambled or said something dumb, but there were also the mixed signs that made you wonder if he had ever thought about you the same way that you did in the past two years.

One too many shared secrets and kisses were often exchanged, but the two of you had always remained friends with too many benefits as you found your way back to the other. It was almost as if you were magnets, opposites that attracted to another and now you were trying to find a way for it to make sense under the moonlight that was brightly shining tonight above you.

“Can you sing me a song, bubs?”

His eyes turn to look at you, who had been staring at him after breaking away from your own thoughts, as he nods in response and opens his arms for you to find your place in them. He wraps his arms around you securely, holding you close to his chest as the soft voice that came from his throat produced a sweet song that you easily recognized as one that he had told you about for a while.

It felt like you were being put under a sleeping spell as you looked at him, wondering how even under the moonlight, he was almost the most ethereal being in the world. It was as though he was carrying that luminescence in his hands and placed it above his head at all times, making sure that whenever you needed to just be held, he was there to do so for you; another reason why you were so conflicted with what you both had.

However, maybe it was after a confession or two after that soft lullaby that it ended up being enough for you. Maybe being with him was enough for you, and for that you had also regretted it at the same time, because you knew that you were in for a ride with hell’s spawn.

track two: sometimes | cause we’re collecting moments, tattoos on my mind

“Are you ready for our getaway?” You hear someone say behind you and turn to look at Sunwoo, who had been standing at your front door for a moment now.

It was the hot morning of July first after a long night being with him, and it was a spontaneous decision to head out on a little road trip away from the city. You wanted to go to the seaside, you had told him just hours prior, and he had told you about a little place that he used to stay whenever he was in a mood to go on vacation and escape the realities of the world.

So you packed your bags and were ready to go as you walked up to him with a big smile on your face, one that mirrored his own as he pulled you close. By placing his hand against your lower back, the space between you both becomes almost invisible as he pecked your lips in just a quick second, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sudden action that came from him.

Even after a month or so of dating, it still felt like you were floating on cloud nine despite the fact that you had been doing this for two years or so already. Being with him felt like you were able to conquer on the world, and you knew that might not stay long despite the shared whispers of the cursed eight letters that were often said when you spent nights together.

You wanted to tattoo every moment that you were with him into your mind, because from then until now it had only felt like you were living in a daydream. He had given you nothing but love and made you happier than you would’ve imagined making yourself, but you were okay with also accepting the fact that it might not last long considering there were often times where you might clash thoughts and argue.

By the time that you both made it to where you were staying, you were amazed with how elegant it looked on the inside, despite the fact that it seemed smaller on the outside. You think that maybe you were in a movie as you looked around, but it wasn’t until you turned around to see Sunwoo being busy on his phone that you wondered if this mini getaway was going to be worth it.

“Everything okay, bubs?” You ask while putting down your stuff, sitting on top of your bag as he gives you a small smile before nodding in response.

To him, he thinks that you are one of the most beautiful things as the sun was practically shining on your face as it seeped through the large glass windows of the house. It’s almost amazing that he found himself falling for you quickly, but he wonders how much of that smile will last on your face before he does something to mess it all up.

He wants to tattoo the moments where he’s able to make those smiles on your face with his sincerity, the him that he wants to be with you rather than the person that he decides to be to everyone else. Yet somehow, there was something about your innocence to him that made him want more than just what you had then and now, but he was scared of what he might become if had actually gotten it all for himself.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Let’s go sleep for a bit before we spend the night having fun, hmm?”

track three: bad decisions | You've become my favorite sin so let 'em keep on talking

He knows that he isn’t good for you.

His reputation of being the residential bad boy was no match for your heart, and you both knew that. After spending the first two weeks getting to know the ins and outs of the bay, you made some quick friends even though you spent a majority of your time back at where you were staying with Sunwoo. The way that his hands had always felt like fire on your skin was exhilarating as every kiss you shared was more intoxicating than the last.

You could tell that he was getting tired of it already, because you’ve noticed that the fire that was once in his eyes was dying out, and you were scared of it. Even his words of reassurance of loving you and for not leaving your side by then was made, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to trust his words every time that he spoke of them.

“Are you sure that you’re in love with me?” You whisper after the highs and frustrations that were spent into what you had done earlier had been let out.

The two of you had argued about how he never seemed to have paid more attention to what you were doing when the two of you were out at the street markets today, his phone seeming more important than exploring the depths of shops that were opened by small businesses. You confronted him about it, thinking that maybe he was involved with someone else and that you were just wasting your time putting your love into a relationship that was one sided.

However that wasn’t the case, as he told you that one of his friends was updating him on a situation that involved their family.

“Why wouldn’t I love you?”

Those toxic eight letters felt so foreign at the tip of his tongue as he looked at you, who laid your head on top of his chest. He didn’t know what love was, and he felt like the biggest jerk for also leading you on knowing that in the end, he was going to leave. He wasn’t sure when he was going to do it, but he knew that you were slowly catching onto his plan, and he hated himself for making you feel as though you weren’t enough for him to stay.

He wants to give you the pain that he had felt once in the past, and ruin the sweet innocence that you held in your eyes. He’s heard stories about you as well, the same way that you had heard stories about him, and he knew then that there was something about the way you talked and expressed your beliefs that made him want to be indulged into you more.

“We don’t feel the same anymore.” You whisper, eyes meeting him as the moonlight that used to capture his eyes so perfectly seemed as though it was dying out.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched him stay silent for a moment, his eyes still looking into yours but he still held you close to his heart. He doesn’t know what to say at all and he regrets it a little more for dragging you into this game that he started playing with his own heart on his sleeve, but he doesn’t know when he should stop, because to him, it feels like this game that he made was still not done yet.

But he can’t find the heart to tell you to run, before he can do it.

“I promise I’ll love you more than I should be loving you. You’re my sunflower, the same way that I’m your sunshine, and it’ll stay that way.”

track four: leave me lonely | you’re a dangerous love, maybe you’re no good for me

It was a little over a month into your getaway, and it feels emptier than it was when you first started the entire trip.

The nights that you shared together were less filled with meaningful words and actions, but more filled with moments that were there to make the empty void that was present full with whatever you two had wanted to do. You could tell that he was on the verge of just walking out the front door and leaving you because of how the increasing arguments that were made continued to be more present, and you could’ve sworn that if he wasn’t going to be the first to leave, then you would.

It was another occurrence tonight where you had gone out to eat as a date, since you wanted to fix what might’ve been missing these last few weeks of summer that you might’ve not done. However, it didn’t happen to work as you noticed how Sunwoo was already preoccupied on his phone almost the entire time, and you were fed up by the end of the night as he was driving you both back home and he had taken the time to text back whoever it was that seemed more important than you, who had been nothing but patient the entire night.

“Am I seriously not fun anymore, that you’ve spent the entire date texting whoever it is on the other end?” You half jokingly asked while turning to him, watching as he had given you a confused look on his face while the two of you were waiting for the traffic light to turn green to go.

“I haven’t been texting someone the entire time-”

“Then what did we do today, besides eat at the restaurant because we sure as hell didn’t talk the entire time that we were there.” You retort, the joking tone that was previously in your tone no longer there as he looks at you for a split second before putting his phone into the cup holder that was between you both in silence.

The green light finally switches and he drives again as you could tell that he knew you were right, the silence overbearing you both as neither of you spoke afterwards. You wanted him to bite back, but you couldn’t help but be impatient this time around with what he had to say, because he always seemed to brush it off these days about what he has been doing when he wasn’t with you, or when he leaves mid-argument and comes back the next morning making it up.

“You’re just overreacting, don’t worry about it, Y/N.”

He hasn’t called you by your name in a while considering he had only been calling you by Sunflower for a long time now. It was almost like whiplash as you stared at him, who was now driving back to your place with the night sky behind him and you wondered what you had even done wrong when you were just wondering who he would keep texting.

Maybe he was cheating on you and he didn’t want to admit it, you think to yourself as you curled up into a ball in your seat and looked outside your window to hide the pain that was present in your heart. Was there could’ve been something that you might’ve done wrong that could just made him bored throughout the last two years that you’ve known each other, where it was you that might’ve been in the mess up stance?

That night, you couldn’t even remember whether or not you have slept properly considering he didn’t sleep with you, but rather slept on the couch in the living room.

Was this what the start of heartbreak was like?

track five: touch it | Why do you say you want me, then tell me you're not coming in?

“How long have you been lying to me about everything?”

Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes as you stared at the individual in front of you with your heart on your sleeve, wondering what his next move was. Your throat was raspy from how much you were yelling out of anger and frustration earlier, and you wanted to know how long you had been playing his game.

“Two years.” He replies, his facial expression never faltering as his hands were in his pockets and eyes boring into your own.

His phone was placed on the couch beside you as you had found his texts with his best friend about how being with you was all for a bet of money; and he had won. All he had to do was to make you play his game and purposely break your heart, only to win some sort of prize that he would win at the end, but at what cost.

“I didn’t mean anything to you, did I?” You whisper as you cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting to hear whatever else he had to say, but you couldn’t help but wipe away the stray tears that were already falling down the apples of your cheeks.

Yes, you meant everything to me, he wants to say as he looks into your heartbroken eyes, and he was willing to give up everything to walk over to where you were to wipe your tears for you. But there was also the thrill in his blood that made him feel a bit prideful that he succeeded in being the asshole that he made himself out to be to everyone but you.

He had won the game, he acknowledged and it was over for him but he also knew that there was just a little bit of guilt that still lied inside of him. He doesn’t know what to say as he watches you start to crumble in front of him internally, and he knows you’re tired of all the lies that he had been feeding you since the first day.

So he had decided on running away after he said his last words, because like you had predicted, he was hell’s spawn that loved creating a chaotic masterpiece. As much as you hated him in the moment, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to let go for a bit, and maybe this was his chance to leave so that he doesn’t have to think about you anymore.

And he does as he walks away with the wind as he closes the door on you both, leaving with the sounds of his car already leaving and you know that he wasn’t coming back.

You think that it’s your fault anyways for wanting to believe in what you had was genuine, with every time that he had said it was true. But like you thought in the first place, where guys like him wouldn’t last, was true, because now you were in the place that held everything that reminded you of him. You wanted to trash the beautiful pain that was in front of you, but you also felt numb at the same time, not wanting to do anything but to just mourn the stained heart that was on the sleeve of your arm.

It was there for the world to see; tainted with toxic love that only you had for him, and it was now spilling out with his last words echoing in your head.

“I never loved you in the first place, because you were only just a game to win.”

bonus track: lovesick girls

The loud silence of the crackling fire resonates in your ears as you stare at the burning car that was less than 50 feet in front of you. Your knees were tucked into your chest as you stared at it, wondering where it all began to go wrong as the numbness of your heart continued to stay there. He had been gone for weeks, as you had expected him to run away for that long, and you hated yourself for falling for a guy like him in the first place.

He was intoxicating, addicting; the one person that you had given your entity to, only to have it crumble up in the palm of his hands.

You hated him and knew that this would be the last time you’d ever want to see him, since you were going to start going back on track with your goals and dreams. Starting next week you were set to start the fall semester into your junior year of college as it was now almost mid September and ready to run for the life that you wanted to have from the start of the summer before you had met him.

You think to yourself that maybe it was him that had ruined it all, or maybe a piece of you didn’t want to admit that it was also your own for not being cautious enough. The entire summer felt like you were running with the devil himself, and that the air you were breathing in now, the very one that you can finally collect your thoughts in, were your moments of freedom as you blinked back the tears of the memories that had played in your mind of last night that ended it all.

“All you ever did was run away from us in the first place, Sunwoo-”

“And I was wrong for doing it, that day that I walked out and left,” He says and you could see his eyes glimmer with what seemed like sincerity in the form of tears, just as the sun that was setting around you both began to make your skies darker than they were before.

“But that doesn’t mean that I regretted walking out, because I knew that we would’ve only hurt each other more if I had stayed.”

The silence that was overtaking you both was faster than that as your eyes continued to lock onto one another’s. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do in this situation, because you very much so loved him and all his imperfect beauties. However it felt like he was the constant fire that was burning your skin with every touch that he was able to make, and you didn’t want to be a part of that cycle that would continue with him, especially after finding out about his bet with his best friend at the most.

So in retaliation, you did what you should’ve done in the first place, resent and ignore him, as you knew that this should be the last time that you see him again in this life.

“Then I think you should just leave for good then, Sunwoo. Don’t ever try to find me again, and if you do... we will never do us again.”

#ficscafe #destinyverse #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #kdiner #kpopscape #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz angst #the boyz oneshots #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #tbz angst #tbz oneshots #kim sunwoo #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo angst #sunwoo oneshots

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imaginesntingz · 3 years

Text

Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

————————-

You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

Imagine being the only angel that likes Lucifer and is still fighting for his redemption

" Chloe ! You have awful neighbors, did you know that..?!"

" Lucifer !"

The devil doesn't have the time to make one more step inside the room that you are already jumping in his arms. He sighs as he recognizes you and awkwardly pats your back until you untangle yourself from him, a wide smile spread across your face.

" Y/N..What are you doing here ?"

He asks straight away, but you only shrug nonchalantly, as if your presence was of no importance.

" Just wanted to check on you ! Are you alright ? Father told me that you could use some company ! Plus, aren't I allowed to visit my favorite angel from time to time ?!"

He looks at Chloe that only shrugs at him, as clueless as he is. She had noticed you waiting near her house and had first suspected you to be a threat, but the way you had smiled at her had immediately made her trust you somehow.

" Chloe is a wonderful woman ! I understand why you like her so much. Thank you for the tea."

Lucifer looks at the empty cup and raises an eyebrow at the detective.

" Hey ! Why didn't you ever made me some tea ?"

Chloe scoffs at his poor attempt at jealousy before walking past him.

" Because A) She's better behaved and B) She isn't the Devil. Now, you two have a lot to catch up on I assume, so I'll be taking Trixie to the zoo while you two take care of whatever you're here for.."

She glances at you knowingly and you smile gratefully at her. She slams the door behind her and as soon as she is gone, Lucifer loses his playful smile and looks at you with a worried expression.

" Y/N..What are you really doing here ? You are one of his favorites. You have to return up there. It is not safe down here.."

You frown at his sudden seriousness and give a little pout before replying, your arms crossed.

" But it is for you ? You were one of us, Luci. The Greatest. It hurt me so much when I saw you fall and I am still fighting for your redemption ! You have changed. You have changed so much and I am not about to give up because you have !"

His eyes start watering despite himself and he asks you with a tremor in his voice.

" Why still believe in me ? There is nothing to save anymore..Why try so hard, Y/N ?"

You seem to think about it for a while before sighing and looking up at him with a hopeful smile.

" Because, I remember who you were..I remember who we were to each other and it was so beautiful, Luci. We were beautiful. When you fell, it took Michael, Azrael and Gabriel to keep me from jumping after you. I love you, Luci. We all did at some point but, even if the others chose to forget, I didn't..If only your pride hadn't taken control over you. You could have been magnificent, the angel of angels..This is also why I decided to take care of Hell while you're gone, covering your absence from Dad.."

He frowns in incomprehension before you smile and take his appearance in front of him.

" Neat trick, huh ? Nobody noticed the difference up there..Well, almost nobody. Gabriel did, but he promised not to tell anyone."

He had almost forgotten completely about Hell and takes your hands to kiss your knuckles in a simple act of humble tenderness, knowing what you were risking in helping him, knowing what HE would do if he knew.

" I'm sorry. I just wanted to feel loved..I just wanted HIM to be proud of me..I don't regret what I did that day, but if I regret anything..It's to have made you suffer, my little angel.."

You stroke his hair softly and smile compassionately at him.

" HE knows..HE is always watching you and know that you were doing what you thought was just..One day, you will come back home and that day, I'll be here, waiting for you.."

Luci looks up at you and gently runs his hand through your locks. He then kisses your forehead and you smile before slowly wrapping your arms around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

" No matter what happens, you'll always have me, Luci.."

You look up at him with all of the love you feel for this cursed angel and Lucifer tightens his grip on you, his eyes momentarily turning red with emotions.

" This is what scares me, Y/N..My poor angel, waiting for me will destroy you. I will never come back. Either Father will send me back to Hell or I'll stay here, among the humans."

You bite your lower lip before looking up at him and finally admit what you had agreed on with the great above.

" I know..This is why Gabriel has allowed me to rule Hell while you stay here, permanently, or at least until Dad finds out.."

His eyes widen at the news and he shakes his head negatively before cradling your face with his hands, almost crying at your act of kindness.

" Oh no, my darling..I..I'm sure he didn't say that, he couldn't have agreed to that. You must have misunderstood..You can't do that..Gabriel would never let you do that. And even if he did, I can't ask you to do that for me.."

You puff your cheeks, upset at his lack of faith.

" Why don't you believe me ?! Have you forgotten that the code forbids me to lie ?! Or do you have such little faith on my abilities ?!"

He laughs at your grumpy expression and shakes his head, making you understand that that wasn't what he meant, before putting his forehead against yours.

" Oh no, angel..It's not about not believing that you are good enough, I know that you are. It's about you not being here, right now, with me..Not being blamed for something that should be my responsibility.."

You try to make sense of his words until you seem to understand and burst out laughing to his astonishment.

" I see what's happening here ! You're afraid I'll put myself between you and the lovely policewoman ! But, don't worry, I'll be as discreet as a mouse as long as I'll stay here..I'm just here for a month and then, I'll be gone. I even got a job as a teacher at the school of Trixie, so you won't have to worry about me asking for money ! Lovely kid by the way !"

If Lucifer didn't have a headache before, he certainly did now..He is overwhelmed by the amount of information you've just given him and falls on the sofa. You follow him and sit next to him with your eternal sweet smile on your face and he runs his hand over his face, worry and tiredness written all over his features. You put your hands on his shoulders and your chin upon one of your hands, trying to soothe him by stroking his shoulders with your thumbs reassuringly.

" Let me take care of you..You've suffered enough, my wonderful little snake.."

Lucifer smiles at the familiar nickname before laying his hand over your back and looking down at you with teary eyes.

" Even after all this time, you still accept me ? You still find the strength in yourself to love me ?"

You answer him with a wide grin.

" Always. I'll always love you, Luci..They can tell me whatever they want, I know you and who you really are. I've seen every single part of you and I will always love all of them. Your flaws and your imperfections are what makes you so perfect..Can't you see ? You're not Father's greatest failure, your Father's greatest wonder. I could never be as human and empathetic as you are, I could never love them the way you can, because you understand them. Their desires, dreams and feelings are in you as well. In some way, I envy you. You'll always be closer to them than I'll ever be.."

Lucifer listens to your words with great attention and when you're finished, he looks at you like he's never looked at anyone before. He is full of gratitude and can't stop smiling at the abundance of kindness you had bestowed upon him. He kisses the palm of your hands, tears rolling down his cheeks and his heart swollen with adoration and devotion towards you.

" There is nothing great about humanity, but you seem to always see good in everything and everyone..You can't imagine how much I've missed you.."

You giggle as he peppers you face with kisses.

" I've missed you too, Luci..But, I think you should probably stop acting this way, or people will think you have a soft spot.."

You tease him and he takes a fake gasp before pointing a finger at himself.

" Me ?! Why never..?!"

You chuckle at his false startled expression before wrapping your hands around his waist to mumble against his shoulder.

" I love you, Luci..I know you don't believe me, but I really do."

He glances down at you with open tenderness before slowly petting the top of your head with care.

" I know, love..But, we both know that it will end in misery for the both of us.."

You smile up at him and kiss him on the cheek before replying with a shrug. You tighten your hold on him and make yourself even more comfortable by laying your head on his thighs.

" Misery with you is better than misery without you.."

He sighs loudly before looking down at you and seeing you suddenly asleep..Unaware that you were still somehow able to hear him, he whispers almost sorrowfully to himself.

" What hurts the most is that..You won't remember anything of what you just said.."

He watches your silent form for a while and takes a shaky breath before looking up at the sky, knowing that HE is listening.

" Punishing me wasn't enough ? You had to punish her as well ? How many centuries must you make her suffer and wait for something that will never happen ? You promised that when I would fall, she would stay safe..You gave me your word ! You turned around and left me to fall without her or you ! Can you imagine the pain I felt when I woke up in that dreadful place; alone and scared. And not only did you leave me, you took her away from me too ! You promised you wouldn't, and yet you did ! You gave up on us ! You gave up on me ! And just when I thought I would finally be able to forget her and live with Chloe, you send her to me and make me love her all over again ! What must I do to finally be able to forget ! I've done what you asked, over and over again ! I erased her memory every time she would come to see me ! I made sure that she would not remember all the moments we shared together after my fall ! And yet, you can't even keep an eye on her and let her run Hell alone ?! Why ?! To make me even more guilty ?! Every 100 years ! Every 100 years you let her come down here and make me suffer by erasing everything ! I thought that once I would be among them, she wouldn't be able to find me anymore, but as always, I'm trapped and must see the only person I love forget about me, over and over again.."

He starts crying and doubles in pain at the rage eating him up from the inside. This is where he feels it, a small tremor, a slight change in body position..He freezes in horror and looks down at you, to meet directly with your wide glassy eyes full of pain and grief.

"..Every 100 years ?.."

His breath stops as he understands that you've been listening to him and shakes his head at his own stupidity.

" Luci...? How many times did I come here to see you ?"

As he bites his lower lip in order not to answer you, you straighten up and ask again firmly, all joy having left your voice.

" How many times, Lucifer ?"

His eyes wander around the room before looking back at you and his heart tightens as he knows that he couldn't lie to you anymore.

" 50 times..You came 50 times and every time, you took a body and as soon as this body would reach its limit, you would die and get back up there with HIM..He would reset your memory and you would forget everything if I didn't do it first..while I remember everything. It hurts, Y/N..Just when I thought I could forget about you, he sends you again.."

You open your mouth agape at the news and look at the body you had taken and feel tears gathering up in your eyes. For centuries, you've fought for Lucifer's redemption, not even noticing that you were the one who was also being punished.

" This woman..Do you love her ?"

You suddenly ask and Lucifer stays silent for a moment before finally confessing.

" Not as much as you.."

You laugh at his answer before shaking your head and looking back at him with tears in your eyes, still full of compassion for him.

" But you will..You will love her with all of your heart and, knowing you, you will find a way for her to be by your side forever, something I can't be.."

He was about to deny your words, but you don't let him and stand up to walk towards the door. He quickly does the same and puts his hand over yours when you were about to use the handle to open the door.

" Please, angel..It is hard enough for me to know that I have very little time with you..Don't go."

He pleads and it takes all of your strength not to indulge in his request. You turn around and kiss him with a burning passion, to let him know that you weren't leaving him because you wanted to..But because you knew that there was nothing that you could do that wouldn't end up in tears and blood, because you love him. When he opens his eyes again, you are gone and he falls to his knees, knowing that it was probably the last time he would see you, or be intimate with you in this life. He knows that you've just given him the highest form of mercy there is: this kiss, signifying his freedom and the start of his new life..But then, why does it hurt so much ? As if you had just taken a part of himself with you..He looks up to see the car of Chloe that parks in front of the house, a very excited Trixie in her arms and wipes his tears away to smile at the family that he had learned to be a part of.

" So, is your friend gone ?"

Chloe asks, looking around to see if you were still in the house. Lucifer frowns before asking, confused.

" What friend ?"

One month later :

" Be safe on your way back, okay Trixie ?"

Trixie smiles up at you and nods vividly.

" Don't worry, my dad is coming to get me !"

You ark an eyebrow, wondering if Chloe had finally got herself a man to look after Trixie..not suspecting one bit that Lucifer would be the one entering your classroom to get Trixie. The little girl jumps in his arms and you can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, as well as Lucifer's obvious awkwardness. When you make eye contact, you simply smile politely at each other and he turns around to get the girl back home. Perfect strangers. When he is gone however, you feel a pain in your chest and have to grip on the nearby table in order to support yourself. When you look up, you see Gabriel and smile bitterly, knowing why he was here..

" So, my time has come then, Gab ?"

He looks almost apologetic when he extends his hand towards you and answers affirmatively.

" You know the drill, Y/N..one month with him. You're the one who wished to share his burden..Hell is waiting.."

You close your eyes and nod in submission.

" I know..Lead the way, Gabriel."

Lucifer is feeling uneasy..He has this feeling that he knew that teacher somehow..But couldn't seem to recall where he could have seen her before..

" You know, the new teacher is really nice ! She got us some cake today, and said that I was going to become a very fine lady when I grow up !"

She puffs her chest out proudly and Lucifer smiles while they arrive at Chloe's house.

" Really ? And what else did she tell you ?"

Trixie frowns in deep concentration before answering him.

" Well..her name is Y/N..And when I said to her that I was friends with the devil, she told me to take care of him, as he is a very special friend.."

Lucifer chuckles before opening the door of his car and letting the little girl out to enter the house where her mother was trying desperately to find an explanation to her new case, not supernatural this time. It was rather refreshing..However, his thoughts come back to the earlier event when he had made eye contact with you, your smile had almost seemed..sad ? Y/N..Y/N..Where had he already heard that name before ? He searches in each corner of his memory, the feeling of knowing nagging and annoying him. He is in the middle of the driveway when he suddenly remembers and stops abruptly. His tires screech loudly on the pavement when he pulls back. He starts driving at a fast speed towards the school.

" Wait for me Y/N, I'm coming.."

You find yourself on the top of the school and look at Gabriel that seems to read your thoughts.

" He's not coming.."

You smile sadly at the prospect and nod understandingly.

" I know..Hell needs me, and he doesn't."

You take a big breath before opening your eyes, the last rays of sunlight reflecting in your eyes as your body starts shifting into his.

" Are we ready to go, Lucifer ?"

You smile at Gabriel's new name for you and nod before looking at yourself and smirking, the same smirk you had learned to love and hate as you were exercising how to do it in front of your mirror.

" Let's go, humans are such a boredom anyway !"

If Gabriel hadn't seen the transformation with his own eyes, he would have thought that it was the true Lucifer that was now standing before him..It is just when you deploy your white wings that he remembers that it is still you, under all of that pretend..You are both about to take your leave when you hear the loud bang of a car crashing nearby. You both look down and see Lucifer get out of the car, his eyes flashing a bright orange as he looks up at you. You shiver at the anger radiating from him and try to fly up after Gabriel. However, Lucifer shouts your name in such a guttural and ferocious way that you freeze.

" Y/N ! Don't you dare fly away from me ! I forbid you to go !"

You glance down at him and see that he has taken his true appearance back and each step he takes are trailed by little flames of Hell's fire. You shake your head and tear your eyes away from him to take a step back and jump in the air to follow Gabriel. Gabriel tries to warn you, but before he could utter a word, someone had tackled you to the ground in mid-air. When you look up, you see a very angry Lucifer on top of you and it's the first time that you are actually scared of him.

" Luci..? Wh..What are you..?!"

" Enough !"

He cuts you off with all of his mighty authority and you can't do anything but stay quiet as he glares at you.

" What do you think will happen if any of the demons down there recognizes you ?! What went through your little naive mind to think that that would ever work ?! You're an angel, Y/N ?! Come on, you really thought about the consequences of your actions ?!"

Your lower lip quivers at his harsh words and you feel hot tears rolling down your cheeks. He grins evilly at you before wiping your tears in a false gesture of sympathy.

" Aww..If you had done your researches like a good little angel, you would have known that Lucifer Morningstar doesn't cry.."

" Liar !"

You shout back and he smirks at your insult.

" See ? Progress."

He then stands up and yanks you up just as Gabriel flies down next to the both of you. He looks at the both of you before sighing and taking a step back, making you understand that he wouldn't take part of what was to unfold.

" I don't know what's going on, and I don't have the time to care..All I know is that I have to bring one of you in Hell before the gates close tonight.."

You and Lucifer look at each other and Lucifer is surprised to see you get on a fighting stance, but smiles at the determination in your eyes.

" You want to got to Hell ? Fine by me..But you'll have to go through me first."

Far from feeling threatened, Lucifer is amused by your strength of will and his smile widens. He slowly takes back his human form and cracks his fingers theatrically before gesturing for you to step closer with his index.

" Wanna fight the devil ? I must warn you, it plays dirty.."

You smile at his innuendo before running towards him and throw a punch at his face. He takes a step back, not having expected you to actually be fighting him, but quickly composes himself and tries to knock you out with a blow to the head. However, you're too fast and make him fall by round kicking his legs. You can't help but smile smugly at his startled expression.

" Have I forgotten to mention that I've been learning a thing ot two about fighting with Michael ?"

He groans at the name of his brother and quickly stands up to attack again. Soon, you are both fighting each other seriously and, blow after blow, both get tired. Gabriel doesn't even know which one is which at the end, when you both pass out. However, Time is running out and he decides to take the closest Lucifer to fly away. He succeeds in arriving to the gates just in time and when you wake up, you find yourself in Hell. You look around and see the billions of souls being tortured and it takes all of your self-control not to throw up and remain poised on your throne of stone. You close your eyes and take multiple breaths to calm yourself. When you open your eyes, you sit straight and whisper to yourself.

" Okay..Here we go, Lucifer..Wish me luck.."

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer #Trixie #netflix #movies #series #afterlife #Lucifer Morningstar x reader

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Text

Sleep and Other Things

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, Grinding, Fingering (with them metal fingers babbbby), Oral (f), Mentions of Masturbation (f), Sergeant Kink, Praise Kink, Cockwarming, Light spanking, Sub/Dom, Hair pulling, Pining, Sexual tension/frustration, Language, Classic Tropes (I will not apologize), Fluff

Word Count: 11K+ (I really went on on this one I’m sorry)

A/N: It’s been TOO long since I’ve written for my bby I apologize

This sucks.

Royally, royally, royally sucks.

And if you could choose from any supernatural powers at all known to man, you’d choose the power of sleep.

Because for the past few nights, it just hasn’t struck you. You’ve tried everything you can think of: punching and kicking away at the bag in front of you in the training room until your knuckles started to bruise, drinking a nice, hot cup of tea, hell even meditation. None of it seemed to work in your favor, and you wanted to punch the force that was holding you back from a full night's rest.

Please God, or you know, whatever is out there listening. All’s I’m asking a normal fucking sleep schedule, is that too much to ask?

The blaring flashes sting your eyes with every white, vicious transition of another rerun on TV. It’s the only light in the otherwise dark room, and it’s dimmed with the volume low so that every stupid little background laughter is dull instead of blaring. And judging by the big red 3:30 on your alarm clock, you’ve been awake for approximately ten hours with no hope of a fulfilled slumber. You believe this is your third night in a row.

You sigh for what seems the hundredth time, flopping onto your right side and shoving your pillow under your arm. The soft fabric and the fresh smell of your favorite laundry detergent is doing nothing to soothe your mind and your body alike, but maybe keeping up the facade that it does will lull your eyes to remain shut and your brain silent; in the back of your mind, annoyingly, you already know that it will not work.

“Fuck it.” You mutter to yourself and throw your covers off. The floor is slightly chilly against your bare feet, but not too terribly cold, and the compound is stable and quiet; more alone time for you, more time to watch the clock slowly tick by as yet another night—day you should say given the time—drags by thorough dark circles and irritable mood swings.

The door is silent as you creek it open, though it doesn’t make one sound and you’re grateful for that. No use dragging everyone down with you.

You’re not exactly sure on what you’re looking for, but it feels right to be where the food is. It’s a start, at least. The good news, too, about going to the kitchen is that it’s not that far from your room, a blessing to you now.

The hallway is dark, too dark for you weak eyes you realize as you stub your toe on a corner of a wall. “OW—oH fuckfuck what the fuckity fu—”

“Shoulda paid attention, doll.”

You whirl around mid-tantrum, hopping on the uninjured foot rather ungracefully towards the raspy voice you recognize in a heartbeat.

The root to your problem is sitting there—short, chopped dark hair, eyes that are sometimes grey and others times blue, like a storm and a ocean living and correlating together to create a beautiful color that you often dream of, and built, toned body hiding behind a black tank top and you’re going to assume matching sweatpants—with a coffee mug in his hands, sitting by the kitchen island and stifling a shit-eating grin as you wallow.

Normally, you’d be very happy to see Bucky. Over the year that you’ve been on the team, Bucky has been nothing but kind to you, even after a rocky start to the friendship. As quiet and closed off as he is, you had managed to weasel your way into his circle; you leave him alone whenever you sense he needs it, not wanting to overwhelm him. Watch TV with him on the couch when it’s just the two of you; sometimes you’d barely say a word to each other at all, happy with the comfortable silence. He jokes around with you if you manage to burn another pancake or whatever concaussion you could scramble up or he’ll invite you to have drinks with him and the others—others being Steve and, despite the pranks and banters, Sam, and so, so much more. It’s as easy as breathing, just being with him, and the comfort and stability that you find in him never fails to put you at ease.

But it’s like somewhere down the road something shifted. You don’t know when or how it happened, but when it did it hit you like a freight train. There’s a pull towards him when you catch yourself paying extra attention to the way his body moves, alerting yours with a sudden new and ferocious need; the daydreams that come from it are even better. The soft, barely there brushes as you pass by or the barely fingertip touch when you’re standing next to each other. The longing stares that makes you wonder if there ever could be more. There’s no denying that you can’t stop looking at him differently now, as more than just the friend you cherish deeply, but as someone who could become more than just.

Sometimes, you even dream of his hand between your legs.

What makes this even worse is that you’ll occasionally catch Bucky doing the same thing to you; he may be faster than you in oh so many ways thanks to his enhancements, but there are moments where you catch him looking quickly away and towards whatever was in front or next to him, eyes glaring like he’s—he’s scolding himself.

“Sexual tension.” Wanda told you when you first explained your worries to her. “That’s what’s happening.”

You shook your head, laughing it off. “Nooo it can’t be Wanda. We’re just—”

“Friends?” She smirked.

“Yes.” You defended. “Just friends. I mean maybe—maybe we’re just going through a phase, and everything will soon go back to normal.”

Wanda rolled her eyes with a smirk. “We’ll see.”

Deep down, you knew that she was right. And that terrified you. Still does, actually. Why would you want to ruin such a good thing over what may be just a stupid, silly crush?

Now, exhausted, frustrated, and hopping around like a moron in the dark, the smug look on his face heavily annoys you more than ever.

“Thanks.” You snarl.

He puts his hands up in mock surrender, easily taking in your disdained mood. “Sorry.”

You finally let your foot drop back to the ground, your toe still stinging. Bucky continues to watch you as you limp towards the cabinets and reach for your favorite mug, setting it too harshly down on the marble counter before opening the fridge.

“Try drinking tea,” he says. “It’ll be better than…Dr. Pepper.”

You shrug as you uncap the bottle and pour the sweet soda into your mug. “I’ve already tried that.” You mutter. “Nothing’s been working.”

You hear Bucky shift in his chair, hear the clicks of his metal arm as he stretches it out; he rarely does it when there’s too many people around, letting himself be free with the metal prosthetic. You feel special knowing that he’s comfortable enough to be free in your presence.

“How long has this been going on?” He asks quietly.

You lean your back against the counter and bring the cup to your lips. “Almost a full week now.”

You see him nod from your peripheral vision, straightening his back and taking a sip from his own up you didn’t realize he had until now; it smells like green tea, with a hint of something sweeter. Honey, most likely.

You expect him to ask you more questions but he stays silent as you both take small sips of your drinks. Your eyes are heavy and your body is on the verge of completely slumping against the small space behind you, but you’re still too wired to sleep—okay, Bucky was right on the soda, but you’re not going to admit that to him.

“Why are you awake?” You ask him.

He just shrugs. “Same reason as you.”

That gets you to snort. Yeah right, buddy.

“Tried sparring?” Bucky suddenly breaks the silence, causing you to jump from the intrusion.

“Sorta.” You iffley say. “Still didn’t help me much…I really don’t know what my problem is.” Liar.

He hums softly. “Well,” he puffs as he sits up from the stool. “Let’s go then.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really?”

For such a heavy man, it still surprises you when he walks silently towards you, so quietly that if you weren’t looking you’d had no idea if he was moving at all. The familiar smell of his soap overwhelms your senses as he leans in, his left arm stretched to put his cup in the sink. You can’t help but inhale the alluring musk, which causes a shiver to run through your body.

“Sexual tension.” Wanda’s voice rings through your head.

God he really does smell good and he’s warm...stop it!

“So?” He scares you again out of your thoughts, and when you look up he’s close. He’s really close—well, closer than you anticipated for only putting away a dish. He’s looking down at you with an expression you can’t quite decipher, but that smirk of his returns and your heart flutters at the close proximity of it.

You set your now empty mug in the sink next to his with a sigh and nod your head. “Take it easy on me. I’m not exactly coordinated right now.”

Bucky only chuckles, hearty and gruff, at your warning. “Whatever you say.”

You really like the way he says it. It sounds stupid, but you do.

He leads the way to the training room, turning every now and then to make sure you’re still following—and that you don’t stub your toe again.

“Turning the lights on.” Bucky warns you just seconds before the lights blare your vision, making you wince and blink against the onslaught.

When you can finally make out the shapes moving around, Bucky is already standing in the middle of the mat, watching you with his signature smirk. You can’t help but give him a small closed lip smile of your own as you make your way towards him.

“I’m totally gonna kick your ass.” You tease with a slight slur.

He grunts, face squished as he rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah yeah, hurry up.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to be here, Barnes.” You chide as you start to wrap your knuckles. “You’re the one who suggested this.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta be a turtle about it.”

You give him the best glare you can muster as he struggles to hold in his laughter. Your grimace deepens when they finally escape, and his face is really fucking adorable when he laughs like this; without a care in the world. That makes you stare at him longer than necessary as he recovers.

“Okay I’m sorry!” He gasps, putting his hand up. “I’ll stop, I swear it.”

The scowl doesn’t disappear even as you start to adjust the strings on your sweatpants; tightening them. You know you look like a child right now with the way you’re stomping dramatically heavily towards the ex-assassin, but you’re too tired and slightly agitated to care.

“Alright,” he huffs. “Just come right at me and don’t hold back. Think you can handle that, doll?”

You smirk despite yourself and prepare a simple stance; attack. “Sure, ice bucket.”

Bucky doesn’t flinch from the playful tease. What he does is pat his chest with a closed knuckle and says, “I’m waiting.”

You watch him, take in his posture and immediately go for the legs. You’re a good agent, not the best, definitely in need of improvement, but you’re good. What you’re sort of forgetting here, a habit with him it seems, is that he is. in fact, a super soldier.

The air leaves your lungs with an oof as you land flat on your back. His hand, warm flesh that feels like is scorching your skin through your shirt, holds you down by your upper chest. You blink dumbly up at him as you struggle to catch your breath, your body jolted from its heavy, sleepless form.

“C’mon,” he says your name disappointingly. “You know better than that.”

You roll your eyes and grunt, swatting his hand away and standing yourself up. “I don’t see the point of this.” You complain. “If anything, I feel more awake than tired.”

“Oh you know what the point is.” Bucky scoffs. “Stop complaining and fight me.”

“Fine!” You growl.

The next charge at him, you honestly thought that you’d get the upper hand. Where he goes to block, you quickly change course and go for a punch. It all happens in a blink of an eye, and suddenly his metal arm is wrapped loosely around your neck in a lock, the other locking your wrists in his wide grip.

“You’re not even trying.” He breathes in your ear.

“I am.” You say through gritted teeth.

He finally lets you go with a small chuckle. It makes you angry. “If you’re just going to keep laughing at me then I’m—”

Bucky lunges at you. Your body reacts on instinct and ducks away from his attack, bouncing on your feet to the other side. The muscles in his back strain as he runs his fingers through his hair, flashing you a grin as he turns around.

“There ya ‘re.” His brooklyn accent runs thick through his praise.

That praise—and it’s not like you’ve never heard it from him before, always in playful banter—raises goosebumps and there’s no way he doesn’t notice it. You fight the rush of blood flooding to your cheeks.

“Here,” you try, bouncing around him and playfully trying to grab him, distracting yourself from your own confusing thoughts. “Just stand still and let me punch and kick at you until I pass out.”

He laughs with you and dodges your weak attempts with liquid ease. “Oh I’m sure you’d love that.”

“I would, actually.”

“You’re jus’ bein’ a sore loser.”

“So what—” You grunt as he slides to his right and pushes your hit lightly away from him. “—if I am.”

You do this for some time, aimlessly throwing weak kicks at his shins as he teases you—you’re really fucking jealous at how he seemingly floats with each bounce to his dodges. You finally manage to knip him around the ankle, causing him to wince and curse.

“Ha!” You cheer. “I bet that hur—”

Bucky takes your short moment of victory to sweep around you and kick your legs out from under you. You land ungracefully yet again on the hard mat, but this time you quickly recover and loop your legs around the arm closest to you and pull him down with all your strength. He flips hard on his back, gasping as soon as he makes contact and now you’re the one laughing at him as you have the upper hand.

“Well Barnes,” you tsk. “Looks like you’re losing your touch.”

“Don’t get cocky.” He warns as his hand flexes still in your grip. “Or else this happens.”

You blink and feel a harsh tug at the back of your neck. Everything is a blur as you feel yourself being lifted and flipped into the air, like you weigh nothing at all. Your eyes automatically shut and your body awaits for the hard impact.

It doesn’t come.

Bucky softens your fall by quickly rolling his body into yours and wrapping his arms around you, practically caging you in. Your hands reach for the first solid thing they can find, which happens to be soft skin and hard muscle. His legs cage yours between his, his hair lightly curled and there’s a strangled noise coming from somewhere and holy fuck he’s—

“You alright?” He asks, panting.

Your breaths mix together as you stare into each other’s eyes. You hear what he says, the words playing through your ears but your brain doesn’t register the nerves to actually respond to him. It feels like you’ve never been this close to him before, not like this anyway. It feels… suffocating. In such a good, intoxicating way that you don’t want him to move.

And then you realize that the reason why he must be asking that question is because he thinks you’re hurt; that strangled cry was from you.

He shifts, just slightly to adjust, that gets his arms to tighten around you for a split second. Your jaw clenches as you struggle to hide the hitch in your breath and the pool of arousal flooding between your legs.

“Y-yeah.” You finally answer, swallowing thickly. His adam’s apple bobs as he does the same, and that gets your body tingling with a familiar sensation that has your eyes widening. “I think I’m tired now.”

The second those words escape your lips you want to take them back. His eyes fall as he shakes his head and chuckles, looking shyly down as he sighs. He unwraps himself from you and holds his hand out for you to take. It takes you a moment, still reeling from—well from whatever the hell that was.

Now it feels awkward. You both can’t keep your eyes on each other, looking anywhere’s else like it’s fucking interesting. You gotta stop this.

“Than—”

“Can I—”

You both say at the same time. Bucky’s soft, harmonic—in your very humble opinion—chuckle joins yours and you shake your head to clear away the fuzziness clouding your brain.

“Sorry, uh what were you going to say?”

Bucky hesitates, and there’s something in his eyes that tells you that he’s nervous. It worries you, and instinct takes over to walk to him and comfort him.

“No it’s—,” he inhales sharply. “It’s okay. We can talk about it tomorrow, when you’re more…awake.”

“I’m plenty coherent, Bucky.” You scoff. “Just tell me. I’m your friend.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes; it goes without the same brightness that usually greets you and that makes your stomach drop and your heart clench with an uncomfortable grip.

“I know.” He says softly. Then his eyebrow raises in a mischievous arch. “Need me to walk you to your room?”

This time it’s you who hesitates. On any other circumstance, you would’ve immediately said yes and that would be that; no awkwardness, no tension or—or whatever the fuck is going on between the two of you.

“Um… yeah. Yeah s-sure.”

You curse yourself mentally and berate yourself to keep it together. The walk back is quicker than the walk to the training room, and a part of you is entirely grateful for it. Bucky stays close as he paddles softly through the hall until your door is in sight, and you’re standing with one hand on the handle while chewing on your bottom lip. Now what?

“Goodnight,” he says your name softly, so softly you can barely hear him.

“Goodnight Buck.” You whisper back.

He gives you one last smile and walks away, and as simple and normal as this is, it feels wrong. Like he shouldn’t be walking away, because there’s something obviously going on between the two of you and you have no idea how—well, you know one way—to fix it because you’re a goddamn coward and that smile isn’t the same smile he gives you.

You lean against your bedroom door as it shuts. Your eyes sting with unshed tears and the aching pressure between your legs is long gone, but the evidence of it sticks to your panties. Ignoring it, you hop onto your bed and fling yourself against your lush pillows, and the rest of the morning is spent with you staring at the tv screen overthinking every interaction you ever had with the man responsible for your turmoil, and fall asleep with frustration seeping through your veins.

When you come to, early afternoon you think, the ache in your pussy is too much to ignore and you cum with Bucky’s name a sigh from your ecstasy. It’s the first time you do.

–

“You look…better.”

“Thank you.”

“So what was the trick?”

I masturbated thinking about my best friend. “Training. With Bucky.”

That gets her eyebrows rising up as she ahhh’s at you. “How are things between the two of you?”

“Good.” You feign. “Really good, actually.”

“Mhmmm.”

“I’m serious.”

“Just fuck already.”

“Wanda—”

“Seriously, I’m getting pretty sick of watching you mope around like this. You’ve got to talk to him.”

You sigh through your nose, throwing your head back against the couch cushion. “I know.” You groan. “It’s just—I don’t know how, you know? I mean, what if this ruins our entire friendship? I can’t…I can’t live with that.”

Wanda purses her lips and rubs your shoulder comfortably. “I know,” she coos. “But don’t think you’ll feel better getting it off your chest? How do you know that he doesn’t feel the same way?”

A pause. “No.” Yes. Another pause. “And no.” One more. “How did this happen?”

She understands what you mean when you say it in a whine. She opens her mouth and is about to reply when—

“Did what happen?”

You freeze, eyes going wide as Wanda stares back in equal horror; you also detect the glint in her green eyes that spells nothing but trouble for you.

“She just agreed to have a movie night with Vis and I. My pick, which she’s still sulking about.” She throws in, so casually that you’re kind of surprised and impressed. “We were just talking about asking you to join us.”

You should’ve seen this coming. Really, you should have. It pisses you off.

‘Calm down.’ Her voice whispers in your head, a skill she’s been working on. ‘I’m sorry, but this is for your own good.’

“Yeah?” Bucky says, all rich honey. “When?”

You roll your lips and force a smirk as you turn towards him. “Tonight, around nine.” If she was going to force you into this and pick the movie, you wanted to at least have some control over this situation.

His eyes meet yours and the crinkles around them washes away the annoyance that was starting to build. He nods while shoving his hands into his jeans pockets and grins towards Wanda.

“Alright. Pick a good movie, would ya?”

Wanda laughs. “I will!”

Your fingers twinkle in a wave as Bucky awkwardly waves back. Once you’re sure he’s gone and out of earshot, you nudge Wanda’s leg with your foot. “What the hell was that?” You hiss.

“Oh hush,” she clicks her tongue. “I just gave you an opportunity, and who knows maybe something good will happen, and you’ll be thanking me after you fuc—”

“Alright alright I get it!” You stop her, a part of you still scared that anyone will just waltz in and hear. “I’ll stop complaining under one condition.”

“Okay.” She says suspiciously with narrowed eyes.

“I get to pick the movie.”

—

Your legs hurt.

Curled up crookedly under your blanket, back at an awkward angle as you stare at the moving faces and listen to the screams as they run through the forest.

The Blair Witch Project has always been one of your favorites, and you figure there’s no sex, no nudity, nothing that could put you in a weird position with the man you can’t stop thinking about sitting right next to you on the plushy loveseat. Yeah, why not?

But of course, Wanda had to be Wanda, and insisted that the two of you lounge on the small couch while her and Vision take over the other, bigger one. As if they needed the space.

Bucky, although, doesn’t seem to sense your discomfort, and if he does he’s kept quiet about it. He seems just as stiff as you are, but more relaxed and attentive.

It’s been almost an hour of this.

There’s a little giggle from the couple to your left, and when you look over you see Wanda putting her finger to her lips, shushing Vision as she holds in more of her laughter.

Glad she’s having fun.

Stop it. You’re doing this to yourself.

You let out a soft sigh and shuffle to your right, closer to Buck as you gingerly uncurl your legs and sit them criss cross. Much better. You can pay attention to the movie better now that you’re more comfortable, so lost in the panic on the screen that you don’t hear him move but rather feel the brush of his thigh against your knee.

Once you realize it you decide to ignore the onslaught of the electric shock rushing through your core—it’s embarrassing that a touch of his leg of all things gets you going.

Bang!

You gasp and jump, gripping onto the first thing your flying hands find. It happens to be Bucky, naturally.

“Sorry!” Wanda whispers yells.

You roll your eyes with a loud, annoyed sigh and settle back into the loveseat. Your hands still grip onto his bicep, and it’s his subtle clear of the throat that brings your attention to it.

“Sorry.” You flinch and let go of him.

“It’s okay.” He sounds off, a little dejected.

You’re about to over analyze it—because that’s what you do best—when Bucky scooches closer to you and hands his arm up to rest on the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers barely reaching your shoulder. Willing yourself to relax and focus, you don’t notice the side glances he’s throwing you or the hushed whispers of your friend, who is no longer paying attention to the movie at all, but rather at you and Bucky.

“We’re gonna turn in.” Wanda announces.

Your mouth opens in a small o as you stare at her in disbelief. “Are you sure?” It’s hard to hide the plea. “It’s almost at the end!”

Vision gives you an apologetic shrug and mouths ‘sorry’ as Wanda drags him away by his hand. “Yeah, we’re sure. Don’t have too much fun without me!” Her accent thrums with pure tease and you can only blubber like an idiot while watching them disappear to their room.

“Well,” Bucky sighs and shifts lower until he’s more comfortable. “Just us.”

“Hm.”

You don’t mean to sound so annoyed. You can tell it hurts his feelings because his arm moves back to his side, effectively putting more space between you. Your heart clenches at the fact that you’re the one doing this, no one else, and seeing him now, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as his leg starts to bounce anxiously, makes you feel even worse.

“I think I’m going to bed, too.” Bucky says.

He stands up before you can say something, though you’re not exactly sure what you want to say to him; there’s so much and your brain is in too much of a scramble of self wallowing and fear that it’s hard to put them coherently together.

“Goodnight.” He doesn’t say your name, or give you your smile. An awkward wave and heavy steps is all you get, and when they become more faint do you curse yourself and fight the stupid tears clogging your throat as you sit there in the dark.

–

It’s been a week since that night.

Wanda, much to your relief, has left you alone about Bucky, but you know with every look when he enters the room that she’s still thinking about it; still scolding you for not taking the leap of faith into what could lead to so much more. To be honest, you don’t blame her; you’d be doing the same if you knew she’d be happy.

This time it’s so bad that the rest of the team starts to notice yours and Bucky’s sudden thrift. Steve, bless him, has been the most frequent next to Wanda.

“You know you can tell me anything Buck,” Steve’s voice rang through the empty room.

This was the night after the movie incident. Restless once again, you decided to punch out your feelings and frustrations at two in the morning with the hope that you would be alone. You almost walked in on them, not paying attention, when you heard him.

“I know.” Bucky said. “But I’m telling you, it’s not going to happen. There’s nothing there.”

Your heart leapt in your chest and your stomach dropped. Somehow, you knew they were talking about you.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked; you imagine he did so while crossing his arms.

A bang, followed by a grunt. “Nothing. Just as I said it.”

A stab deep in your heart with a jagged edge made your knees nearly buckle.

“Buck—“

“Listen punk,” Bucky interrupted. “I know you’re just looking out for me and I appreciate it, but I don’t want to…I want—“

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” FRIDAY interjects robotically. “But I’m afraid Rogers has a call waiting for him and it’s very urgent.”

You heard Steve sigh and something moved or fell, but you hurried away before you could get caught.

Ever since, you can’t get those words out of your head. They play over and over like a broken record, chasing you to insanity.

Why oh why did FRIDAY have to say something?

It was like a sign from the universe itself. Whether it was good or bad, you weren’t quite sure yet.

Tonight is a particularly warm night, which you’re not complaining about, especially with Stark’s AC. It looks to be another night of staring blankly into space until you get tired of that; covers thrown haphazardly across the room, cool air breezing against your bare skin, a new set of dark bags under your eyes brewing. A typical night for you.

This time you debate on whether you should move. It’s getting old, just sitting here but you’re too afraid of running into—well into anyone at this point. You just don’t think you have the energy for it.

So you decide on sitting by your window and watching the cars drive by, lights flashing through the busy city. Count the stars that barely shine through in the dark sky, too many city lights blocking out the natural brightness. Finally, after several long and agonizing minutes, you throw on a pair of shorts and quietly open the door, peering at the hallways to the best of your ability without any light with ears straining to detect any type of sound no matter big or small, and once you’re satisfied that you’re alone you close the door and blink.

Where to this time?

You could try the training room again, but the last time makes you hold out on that. The living room maybe? Kitchen? Game room?

Suddenly it hits you, and you want to wack yourself on the head for not thinking of this sooner. Quickly tiptoeing back to your room, you grab the fluffiest blanket you own and wrap it around yourself.

You usually prefer taking the elevator up, too lazy for the stairs, but it’s too late for that so, stairs it is. Thankfully, it’s not that many flights and when the first breeze of fresh, cool air hits your skin you immediately sigh and inhale deeply. The night is filled with miscellaneous noises of the common city, but after being here for so long you’re more than used to it. You can see the moon now, hiding behind slivers of a dark cloud, and to your right a gruff,

“What’re you doing up here?”

It’s not unwelcoming, just a question out of curiosity. You turn to him, shocked to find him up here.

“Uh.” You drawl, mouth hanging open as you think of something to say. “Well—well I…” Why is this so hard?

“Why are you up here?” You ask instead, wrapping the blanket tighter around you.

Bucky shifts in the lawn chair—a cheap brand that creaks a little under his weight—and offers you a timid smile. “Don’t you remember?”

You shuffle through your memories, trying to understand the meaning behind his question. He’s patient with you, even shuffling deeper into his stance as you stare quizzically at him. What the fuc––oh. Oh you know what he’s talking about now.

“Oh Jesus Bucky I’m––” you run a palm over your face in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to say sorry for,” he assures you.

But you do. You do because he’s your friend, one of your best friends even, and with all of this going on, he deserves to have a good friend.

So it makes you feel terrible that you forgot the quite frankly huge significance of this roof, and even more specifically the very spot he’s sitting in right now; this is where he goes when he has nightmares. When he wants to be alone. This is where your friendship started.

You had snuck up to the roof in the middle of one of Tony’s parties, clad in a simple short blue dress and an armful of drinks and snacks for yourself.

It wasn’t that you weren’t having fun, you were never one to turn down a good party. But that night you had just wanted a little alone time, and the roof was one of your sanctums of escape from the world and its responsibilities.

Balancing everything awkwardly and praying that you wouldn’t have to bend down and pick any of them up, you finally twisted and pushed the door unceremoniously.

It should’ve banged against something with the amount of force you excurted—out of pure annoyance—but instead it was stopped by flashy, shiny fingers, curled against the rim of the door with quiet clicks.

“Fuck!” You gasped. “I’m sorry, didn’t know anyone was up here.”

Bucky stared down at you wearily, eyes full of surprise and wonder as he eyed you up and down, particularly taking in the overflowing variousity of items in your arms.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Just needed…to get away for a moment.”

At this point you already knew how Bucky was with large crowds; you didn’t blame him for coming here, especially on warm summer nights such as this.

“Yeah,” you repeated. “Me too.” You looked down at your feet, shifting your weight. “Do you… would you like to join me?”

He froze. The blood to your cheeks was prominent, you could feel that from the heat of it. You shifted again, lifting a foot to help shove a box back into your arms.

“Okay.”

You smiled then, bright and toothy. “Here,” Bucky said, reaching for the snacks. “Let me get that.”

That night was filled with nothing but small talk and laughter, and it was one of the best nights of your life in a long, long time. From then on, you and Bucky grew closer and closer until you started to dream about riding his cock until he screamed your name and you started to push him away.

“Buck.” You sigh, shaking the perverted thoughts away.

“Just come here,” he says, reaching his hand out. “I want you to see something.”

You hesitate, but only for a split second before you find yourself walking towards him. His eyes, grey tonight, bare deep into yours like he’s trying to see into your soul; to figure you out, more likely.

Once you’re within hand’s reach he gently tugs at your blanket and your heart skips a beat at the sheer…domestically of such a minuscule motion. He tugs again, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the armrest.

“That chair is gonna break as soon as I sit on it.” You argue.

“It’s not,” he defends gently.

He still senses your hesitance and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Can I—?” He scrunches his eyebrows and carefully wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you to the left side of him. You let him guide your body until you’re half seated on his lap, legs practically curled over his thighs while his arm stays wrapped around you.

The heat from his body is searing, even through the extra layers of fluff you have on you. His breath ghosts over your cheek, casting a whiff of something sweet and minty on his breath. The hard, metal muscles dig into your back, although not uncomfortably, but enough for you to have to fight the urge to rub your thighs together at the thought of his arm tightening around you as he pounds into you—

“Look up.” He suddenly whispers in your ear, husky and deep. It causes a delectable shiver to run down your body and your pussy clenches around nothingness.

Keep it together.

Bucky must mistake it as you being cold because he pulls you tighter against him, which for you only makes it harder to control your thoughts. Your heart pounds and your ankles cross to try and relieve the increasing pressure growing in your pussy; thank goodness you brought your blanket out here.

You finally muster your eyes to follow his pointed finger and squint. “What am I looking at?”

He shifts a little more to the left. Closer to you. “There.”

You try to ignore the way his words literally hit your lips. A brush of his breath that feels like an imprint on your pink flesh and gets your mouth watering; you start to wonder what he tastes like.

“That?” You stick your hand out to the pointed stars.

“You know what that is?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you think. You’re not an expert in astronomy by no means, but you took a few classes back in the day, and somehow this piece of information resonates high and mighty in your memories.

“No.” You say before you can stop yourself.

He smiles again, that toothy smile that you love. “Cygnus. The swan, I believe. Mostly comes out during summer months and it forms this triangle,” he traces the stars. “See?”

And that is why you said no. The way he describes it, giddy and excited because he learned something new and he’s telling you…you hate yourself even more for the way you’ve been trying to avoid him.

“It’s beautiful.” You murmur.

Bucky hums in agreement. Your eyes scan for any more constellations, but you can feel him staring at you. You want to look down, your neck is even starting to strain from it, but you just…

He says your name. It comes out a whisper, and he sounds… scared. You slowly, very slowly, look down and find a swirl of gray and blue. Facing him like this makes you realize you’re closer to him than you thought; tilt your head a little down and you’d be kissing him.

As if he read your mind, he licks his lips and, unconscious or not, you start to lean forward.

This is it.

Bucky’s leaning up and holy shit you’re about to—

“Hey, lovebirds!”

The both of you jump and turn towards the intrusion, you with shock and Bucky, a murderous glare. Both his arms are around you, as if to shield you from the outsider.

“Emergency meeting.” Tony smirks. “I don’t like it either but,” he shrugs. “Duty calls. Let’s go.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches out of your peripheral vision, and you find yourself filled with the same agitation because fuck you were so fucking close.

“We should go.” You tell him, like it’s not obvious that the moment is already ruined.

“Yeah.” Bucky grits out.

You miss the safety of his arms as soon as you leave them.

–

This time you find him on purpose.

You start by going to his room. It’s late, but not too late this time. You knock softly against the door once, then twice and wait.

“Bucky?” You call out softly.

A sharp, defined meow answers you back from the otherside. You grin and give the knob a try, twisting it open slowly as you glance around the room.

“Buck?” You try again.

Alpine, Bucky’s white feline, greets you with a purr and rubs against your legs. You bend down with a coo and pick him up, scratching his head as he closes his eyes and continues to purr.

“Where’s your daddy?” You whisper to the cat.

He meows like he understands you, making you chuckle. The cool floor feels nice against your bare feet this time, a nice contrast to the heat flaring through the summer air. Alpine settles himself in your arms as you search for Bucky. Everything is quiet, no signs of anyone up and moving around, and you start to wonder if Bucky is up on that roof again when you walk by the kitchen. There’s a dark figure by the corner of your eye, but you don’t register it until Alpine starts squirming and you do a double take.

“Hey.” You put Alpine down.

Bucky nods at you and follows Alpine with his eyes as the cat rubs up against his owner, adding an arch to his spine.

“I was looking for you.” You explain when Bucky doesn’t say anything.

“Hmm.” He hums nonchalantly.

You nod, because you don’t know what you want to say now that you have him and twindle your fingers together. This is… a lot harder than you expected it to be.

“Soo,” you start out. “How… are you?”

He shrugs. “‘M alright.”

Okay. You got that out of the way. Now let’s—

“Let’s go to my room.”

He’s whizzing past you before you can even blink, Alpine in tow. It takes you a moment before your muscles move and you’re following him. Your heart thuds wildly against your ribcage and you take a deep breath when his door comes into view.

Bucky has always been in a state between organized and messy. Most days you can’t even call it an organized mess, it’s more separate if you can make any sense of it. You’re reminded of this as soon as you walk in, stepping over a t-shirt and combat boots. “Sorry, sorry.” Bucky mumbles as he quickly ducks down to pick them up. The rest of his room is about the same, but it’s not too bad to make a big deal of.

“Can’t really sleep.” He offers an explanation.

“Ah.” You nod. “You got my problem now.”

He smirks mischievously and it shamefully sends a wave of blazing arousal through your body, ending at the pulsing ache quivering in need.

“It seems I do, doll.”

Is this—is this a double entendre? Is Bucky messing with you right now? Enjoying the way you’re trembling with a hold that’ll give everything away?

If so, he’s doing a fantastic job.

“So,” you clear the lodge in your throat. “S-so do you want to, uh, train? Like last time?” Okay, that might not be such a good idea—you won’t be able to control yourself then, you’re positive of it—but you genuinely do want to help him, so you’re willing to fight your animalistic pulses for the sake of your friend. No that—that doesn’t sound right. Just calling him your friend. Now, it’s leaving a distaste in your mouth.

He sits down on the edge of his bed—dark covers that match the aesthetics of his personality—and plants his elbows on his knees as he, dramatically you have to add, thinks thoughtfully with a slight pout to his perfect lips.

“Push ups.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Alright?”

“But I’m gonna need a little help.”

He leans forward, just a bit more, and—and maybe it’s just your uncontrollable imagination—his eyes are dark and blown wide.

Okay, your pussy is throbbing now, the pulse achingly worse in your clit. “O-okay.” You lick your dry lips.

His smirk widens and stretches to put his cup onto his nightstand, making his shirt pull up, showing you a sliver of chiseled abs on his toned stomach.

Holy fuck. You’re not going to make it.

Bucky catches your eye before he gets down on the carpet, the muscles in his back straining deliciously and mouth watering as he stretches his legs out and holds himself up by his palms.

“Sit on my back.”

“Wha—” You sputter with a slight giggle. “What just…just sit on you?”

“On my back, yes.” Bucky teases and glances up at you. “It’ll tire me out faster.”

It makes sense. Logically. And he does have more of an immunity than most. But you just can’t help but feel that this is part of a game of his, thinking of any and every way to torture you and watch you squirm in your helpless state.

You’re silent as you take short steps towards his crouched form and place a hand steadily on his broad shoulder. You check on his face, still as lucid and beautiful as ever, and carefully settle your weight atop his.

“Good?” You ask.

“Yes, so you can relax sweetheart.” He says without a strain. So you do as he says, sitting more comfortably on him and crossing your legs.

He bends his elbows and leans down, your fingers automatically gripping his shirt to gain more balance, and pushes himself back up at a steady pace, barely a noise coming from him. Each time he moves you feel his muscles stretch and tighten beneath you; you have to bite your lip to stop from digging your nails into his skin.

Alpine watches as Bucky continues the workout, all the while you’re sitting on him wondering just what you’re supposed to do other than sit here, anything to clear your head and appease the burning ache coursing through you.

“Say something.” He grunts.

“Like what?” You scoff despite yourself.

“I don’t know, talk about anything.” Up, down. A heavy breath. “Count for me then.”

“I don’t know how much you’ve done already.”

“Ten.” He answers immediately. Up. Down. “Eleven.” Up. Down. “Tw—“

“Twelve.” You interject with a mimicking tone. “Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…sixteen…”

Up. Down. You highly doubt he’s even breaking a sweat right now as your body hobbles on the muscles of steel. Up. Down. A tick, sounds like from a watch, sounds lowly in the room, but to you it sounds like it’s echoing loudly through your ears. Up. Down. You need to tell him. Up. Down.

“Alp,” Bucky sighs annoyingly.

You look over and see the white glob bend its head down by Bucky’s wrist, and when Bucky leans down the cat boops his nose against his and sits.

“Oh no, c’mon.” Bucky complains. “Move.”

He tries to sweep Alpine away with one arm but you’re moving too, not holding on to him and when he leans most of his weight onto his left side, your body goes with it.

“Woah!” Your hands fly wildly as you attempt to grab onto something. That something happens to be soft and you mistake it for his shirt and pull.

“Hey—shitmhm!”

You freeze. He does too.

Did that…did that just happen?

The air is thick, so fucking thick, you’re not sure if you can breathe properly under the weight of it.

Now what the fuck do you say?

“Um are you—” you’re breathless, like you’ve been the one doing the push ups. “Are you okay?”

He still keeps his stance, Alpine long gone by now towards his bed most likely. You don’t care about that right now. All you can think about is how his arms flex as he keeps you up and how you can see his jaw tick; it shouldn’t turn you on, but that groan does nothing to help you as it echoes through the air silently.

“Buc—”

There’s a tug on your calf and suddenly the room is a blur. You feel yourself being pulled down and flipped onto your back, and again you brace yourself for impact but it’s—it’s just the soft carpet, and he’s leaning over you, legs between his now open ones with a dangerous look in his eyes that you can’t tear away from. A bead of sweat dribbles down the tip of his nose until it drips down onto your cheekbone, but that’s not even enough to break the spell you’re currently in. It breaks Bucky’s, however, because he curses and wipes the small line from your cheek and wipes the front of his face with an open palm.

You should say something. A word. Just something. He turns back to you and just…looks at you. And you look back. Breaths mix together, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and there’s a battle waging in his mind, you can see that in his eyes; they’re barely recognizable now, no blue or gray.

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes you a second to register what he said. It’s soft, so fucking quiet and gentle that it pierces straight through your heart. Your stomach erupts in nerves and your legs tighten together on their own accord, pussy fluttering at the question.

Bucky waits patiently, never once moving a muscle. You lick your lips and that’s when he moves, a flicker of his eyes and a part of his lips.

You don’t answer him with words. You don’t think you can trust your voice enough to. Don’t think at all, actually. Instead you nod and wait with baited breath as he nods back, leisurely, and starts to lean in. It’s tentative, careful but eager. You never take your eyes off his, only when you feel the soft press of his lips against yours do you indulge yourself.

The kiss starts off slow. Barely even a kiss, just lips against lips. You crane your neck up and back a little and press harder against him, making him moan softly in the back of his throat and shit that’s one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard; you need to hear more of it.

Sensing your eagerness, he presses back and kisses you like you’re sure he did back in the 40’s, slinging every gal and wooing them with just a wink of an eye. His tongue traces the outline of your bottom lip and you open your mouth with a gasp, inviting his curious tongue into your warm crevasse. He sighs at the taste of you, swirling his tongue with yours in a fight you know he’ll win. Your hands lift up and wrap around his shoulders, pushing him down on to you. He presses down on your knee and you spread your legs for him to settle in between.

“Why—” He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connected to your lips trailing along as you whine from the loss. “Why did we wait so long to do that?”

You giggle, deep and low and he joins in with his own, harmonizing perfectly. “I don’t know,” you say. “That’s sorta my fault, I guess. I just—” you look away shyly.

Bucky places two fingers underneath your chin, prompting you to look at him. “Didn’t want to risk our friendship.” He finishes for you.

You nod. Your chest feels lighter now, a new sense of…of an increasing, raw excitement growing inside you. He must feel the same way, too, because he swoops back in for another kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. Your arms flex as you hold him still, running your hand up the nape of his neck and into his locks, gripping a handful of it to stable yourself. Bucky moans again and drops his hips into yours, where you feel the hardening outline of his cock through his sweatpants, grinding purposefully against yours.

“Bucky,” you gasp, moaning when his lips trail down your jaw and stop at your neck.

“I’m so sorry we ever waited this long,” he groans into the skin, planting a kiss on your rapid pulse. “You’re so fucking beautiful, малышка.

You don’t understand much Russian, but Bucky has been trying to teach you on and off and this one you understand; babygirl.

“Fuck.” You moan. He sucks a mark on your neck and bites down on it, making you whine and arch your back into him. He pushes back down, and his cock feels impossibly harder and you know he can feel your hot, dripping cunt, too.

“Please,” you don’t know what you’re begging for. “I-I need…”

“What?” He asks sweetly. When you continue to sputter at him, he gives a hard thrust against your clothed cunt.

“A-ah fuck.” You keen.

“Tell me what you want.” He orders. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you. C’mon.”

It feels like you can’t breathe. He hasn’t even been inside you yet and you’re already on the edge, chest heaving and thighs quivering with the anticipation.

Bucky suddenly drops down to his forearms, leaving a searing kiss that has you whimpering for more. “Want me to taste you?” He whispers huskily. “Like I dreamed?” His hands slide under your shirt, skimming against your sides. Your breath catches, caught in your throat as your skin breaks out in goosebumps. “Kiss that pretty pussy of yours? Fuck you with my fingers? Get you alll—“ He palms your breasts and pinches your nipple; you bite down on your lip hard, indents digging sharply through the tender flesh. “—nice and wet for my thick, fat cock? Would you like that, doll?”

Would you like that? You’d fucking kill for it.

“Yes!” You moan loudly. “Oh please Bucky, please.”

Bucky loves to see you beg. His dick twitches in response in his pants and you dig your nails into his back.

“Okay baby,” he says against your open mouth. “Get on the bed for me, legs spread.”

You don’t hesitate as soon as he lifts off you. You crawl on the bed with shaky limbs and lay on your back on his pillow; it smells distinctly Bucky, filling your senses with fueled desire.

Bucky looks at you like you’re fucking treasure. Like you’re the sun, the moon, everything to him, and it makes you blush and flutter under the intensity of it. You hold your arms out with a slight pout.

“Please?”

He huffs a chuckle and reaches behind him to pull his shirt over his head. Your mouth waters at the beautiful specimen before you; you want to kiss the faint scars that littler his body. He pulls down his pants next but keeps his boxers on, the outline of his hard cock prominent and strained through the fabric; if it’s bothering him, he’s doing a pretty good job at hiding it.

Bucky crawls towards you, slow and with a curve, like a predator capturing its prey. You reach out for him and grab his shoulders, pulling him towards you for a kiss. His lips, slightly chapped but otherwise soft, move against yours in perfect synchrony, as if your bodies are already so in tune with each other. He breaks the kiss, diving back to lick your top lip, and slides the palm of his hands back up under your shirt, this time pulling the fabric with him. You help him slide the shirt off and throw it casually across the room; your nipples perk under his wandering and trumpeting gaze.

“Fuck, doll,” he whispers.

Before you can react he leans down and envelopes your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the perky bud. You gasp and hold his head to your chest while his hands grip down on your hips, hard enough to where you know there’s going to be bruises. He bites down on the bud, causing you to roll your hips against his and your toes to curl.

“Bucky.” You whisper, just because he’s all you can see and feel and smell…

He lets go of your breast with a pop and trails his kisses down the valley between your breasts and to your stomach, stopping at the pant line.

“Yes.” You say before he can ask. “Please, Bucky. I need you to touch me.”

“I already am, sweetheart.” He replies innocently.

You don’t want to argue right now. “James.”

He laughs and dips his fingers inside the waistband, the cool metal making you shiver. “You know,” he says as he drags your pants down your legs at an agonizing pace. “I kinda like it when you say my name like that.”

You chuckle, but it comes out weird and without much air. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He bites your hip bone, making your hips jump and your pussy clench. “James.”

Keeping your eyes on him—somehow, you know that he wants you to keep watching him—Bucky licks the very same spot he just bit and catches his teeth on the lining of your panties, pulling back and tugging at the flimsy fabric. The act alone almost makes you cum.

You moan lowly and lift your hips to help him pull them down your legs, kicking them off once they’re at your ankles.

“Jesus.” He murmurs, his breath hot against your pussy; if it weren’t for his broad shoulders, you would’ve closed your legs to relieve the pressure. “You’re fucking dripping, baby. Did I do that to you?”

You swallow and open your mouth, but no words come out. It’s like your brain is short circuiting, cut off from oxygen. Bucky grimaces and slaps your thigh with his flesh hand, making you cry out.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes.” You stutter. “Fuck, Bucky yes, only you.”

He grins and kisses the top of your pubic mound, gripping your thighs tighter and scooching closer to the bed. “Gonna taste you.” He whispers, almost as if he was talking to himself rather than you.

You wiggle your hips impatiently, waiting for him. You think he might slap you again if you continue moving, so you will yourself to relax and…and wait. Because he can’t stop fucking staring at you, and kissing everywhere but where you want him the most and it’s so frustrating you’re going to cry.

“Pl-EASE!”

His hot, wet tongue slides up the strip of your folds and settles around your clit, circling the sensitive bundle. You preen into his mouth and clutch at the bedsheets, already writhing against him. He immediately throws an arm—his right one—over your lower stomach and pins your hips down, preventing you from moving an inch away or towards him; you’re completely under his will.

Bucky explores the velvety slit of your pussy, humming all the while like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. The groans that are escaping you doesn’t sound like you, doesn’t feel like they’re coming from you, but they are and it finally catches up to you—James Buchannon Barnes, your friend, best friend, your co-worker, is eating your pussy like there’s no tomorrow.

“Oh fu—” He nips carefully at your clit. You can’t focus. Not on your words, your surroundings, nothing but Bucky and the sensations he’s bring you. Every lick and suck on your pussy has you keening into his unbreakable hold, whining and clutching the sheets until you’re sure you’re going to tear right through them. This is too much, way too fucking much but you’re so close, so desperate for him, that you’ll—

He slurps lewdly and loudly, making you throw your head back and choke on a moan. “Bu-Bucky I—I need…”

He pulls back just slightly enough to say, “I know.” And he shifts, getting ready to switch arms.

No. Oh no no no no.

Your hand darts out and stops him. Gulping, you wordlessly place his flesh arm back on your stomach and reach for his metal fingers. Bucky’s eyes widen as soon as he figures it out and stares at you like you’ve just grown a second head.

“R-really?” He asks indubely. “You want me to—Jesus baby you—fuck.”

“Please.” You whine. “I can take it.”

He—he snarls and buries his face back into your weeping pussy, attaching his lips around your clit. You gurgle out a low curse and feel his cold fingers prod at your gaping entrance.

“You sure?” He asks cautiously.

“If you don’t I will literally—OH!” One thick, wide finger breaches through your hole and slides into your cunt with ease, curling as soon as he’s knuckle deep. Your body spasms, like you’ve just been electrocuted, and your fingers curl in his hair.

“Taste fucking delicious,” he begins to babble. “Sweet like candy. Nevr’ gonna get enough of it, doll, never.” He pumps his finger in and out of you, curling each time he slides back in, brushing up against your sweet spot. After a few pumps, he dips another in, stretching you.

“Bucky I’m—” The coil in your lower stomach tightens, your pussy fluttering against his fingers painfully, but in a way that’s everything pleasurable. “Oh fuck I’m gonna c-cum.”

His lips are around your clit again, fingers pumping faster now to the point where you can hear the squelches from your cunt, and without any warning he sucks. Hard.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” It comes out of you without preamble, mindless babbling that doesn’t even make sense at all. Your thighs cage his head, shaking and quivering as your orgasm approaches. “I’m g-go-gonna—” Your pussy clenches harshly around his thick digits and you’re gone. White flashes behind your eyelids, a numbness searing through your entire core as you shake and gush around his fingers, and a strange sound emanates through the room again; you don’t have to question who it is.

Bucky works you through your release, moaning and lapping at everything you have to give him. Eventually you come down when it becomes too painful to bear and you push his head away from you. Giving your clit one last kiss that makes you whimper, he stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking down at you all the matter.

“You did so good, baby.” He praises you; you shutter, legs jumping slightly as your body flexes. “Gonna let me fuck you? Huh, babygirl?”

You’ll let this man do anything to you. Your limbs feel like jello, but find enough strength to keep your legs open and open your arms invitingly to him. He makes a show of pulling his boxers down, your eyes following the patch of dark hair and bulges at the long, thick cock that slaps against the hard plains of his stomach, precum smearing from the red angry tip. Next time—and you really fucking hope there will be a next time—you’re going to put him in your mouth.

“Like what you see?” There’s more of that cocky, playboy Bucky Barnes you’ve heard so much about.

“Yes.” You answer honestly. “Kiss me.”

The bed shifts slightly and creaks under his weight as he crawls towards you and locks his lips with yours; you can still taste yourself on his lips, sweet and tangly. The tip of his head brushes against your clit as he lays down on top of you, hot and smearing more of his precum across your stomach.

“Fuck me,” you moan into him.

Bucky groans lowly and you reach down to grab his cock; it’s hot, thick enough to where your fingers don’t reach and pulsing in your hand. “Shit.” He hisses, hips stuttering in your grasp.

Nex time, you’re going to tease him, too; give him a piece of his own medicine. You would now, but this has been a long time coming and you’re tired of waiting, so you line him up at your entrance and keep your hand on him as he slowly pushes in.

He moans your name the same time you moan his, looking down to watch himself sink into your warm depths. He stops when he’s balls deep, and you feel so full that you’re positive the tip of him is about near your cervix.

“Bucky.” You wiggle beneath him. “Move.”

“I got you, princess.” He croaks. “I got you.”

Pushing himself down on his forearms, Bucky pulls out painfully slow, his dick already wet and slick with your juices, and pushes back in. You roll your hips into his thrusts, taking him deeper. Every single muscle in his body flexes under your touch as you wrap your arms around his back, rolling into you with perfect thrusts that hits a spot deep inside you. You're too wired, too engrossed with the fact that it’s him, that your still overly sensitive pussy clenches around his cock.

“Baby,” his voice presses sweet and deep in his throat as he gasps. “I’m not—fuck I’m sorry I-I’m not—”

“It’s okay.” You tell him breathlessly, pressing your forehead against his and giving his lips a quick peck. “Just fuck me, Bucky. Use me, like I’ve dreamed of.”

Bucky chokes, eyes wild and neck red, and pulls almost all the way out until the tip is barely in and thrusts back in harshly. You cry out and dig your nails into his bare skin, leaving angry marks in their wake. He grabs your leg and hitches it over his hip, bringing his arm back down to wrap around you.

“You ever touch yourself thinking about me, doll?” He grits. “Huh? Have you?”

How—oh Jesus fuck how are you supposed to answer that when he’s fucking you so deep that you can barely remember your own name. Your pussy clenches in answer to what he already knows, and that gets him to grind down at you; the curls of his hair brush heavenly against your clit. “Yeah, you have, haven’t you?”

Pleasure rips through as his hips meet your harder and faster, the slap of skin against skin becoming louder and louder, as is your cries, but you don’t care if the whole fucking world hears you.

“You’re tight,” he gasps, closing his eyes. “How are you s-so fucking—fuck tight?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that, but the only thing you can do is bring him down to kiss you again, clashing teeth as you moan and cling to him. He breaks the kiss and buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. His arms slide back down to grope your ass cheeks and lift your lower half up to meet more of his heavy and hurried thrusts.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he warns you in a moan.

You kiss his neck while your hand slides down his back to grope at his ass—as if you can push him even more deeper inside of you—and you lick his earlobe, tugging at the end with your teeth until he shivers.

“I want you to cum,” you whisper seductively in his ear. “Sergeant, please.”

Sergeant. Sergeant. You have no idea where it came from, but as soon as the words leave your mouth he growls and starts to plow you, fingers digging into your flesh as his hips snap into yours.

“Shit. Oh fuck babygirl I can—I can’t.” His rhythm falters, your pussy fluttering and clenching around him, trying to get his cock to say within you after each delicious drag against your walls. He whines—a pitiful, deep whine that resonates throughout the shocked nerves—and you can’t—

“I’m cumming.” You manage to break out. “B-buck—fuck.”

Your ankles cross around his waist, and it takes his teeth in your neck to have you cry out onto the ceiling as your pussy pulses around him, sucking him in and clenching until your muscles feel spent and sore.

“Oh God,” Bucky whimpers and it sends another wave through you, making him sputter and choke as his hips slam into you unevenly. “Shit shit, fuck.”

“Please baby.” You encourage softly. “Cum.”

He abruptly pulls out, your protest lodged in your throat as you feel the hot, thick ropes of cum spurt out onto your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck.” Bucky continues to gasp, his hand flying to his weeping cock and fisting it.

You moan as a few more land on your chest, painting your body with his pearly white cum; you know it’s over when he starts to slump. Without a second thought, he pushes back into you. “Bucky.” You can only say in slight confusion and pain.

“Sorry, I’m sorry I just—“ he winces as his hips connect with yours again. “—just wanna feel ya. Too good.” He slurs.

He kisses you then, slow and unhurried unlike earlier. This kiss says so much more in its language, lost in the dance of your lips. He trails his lips up to your forehead and places the softest and faintest of kisses there before settling on your chest.

You hum and rub his back soothingly. You’re both sweaty and sticky—Bucky doesn’t seem to mind this fact as he presses himself closer to you—and your body is satisfyingly numb and exhausted. Finally exhausted for what seems like ages.

Once the haze evaporates from your mind, questions start flying: what does this mean for you and Bucky now? When and how do you tell the others? What does this mean for missions? What does—?

“Stop thinking.” Bucky mumbles, voice covered by the breast he’s laid his head on. “Too loud.”

He’s right. This time, it can wait.

You smile and whisper an apology, snuggling deeper into the hug. You try to get comfortable, but the sticky evidence is drying uncomfortably on your skin.

“Bucky,” you sigh. “We gotta shower.”

You feel his nose squint. “Few more minutes.”

You fall asleep before those few minutes are up.

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