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kookslastbutton · 1 year ago

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Reflections ༓ kth (m) | "Stay with me until the end of the day"

✑ Summary: As a new hire at one of the most prestigious jewelry brands in the world; Adrien & Rosamel in Paris, you've been trying to build your professional portfolio for months. So when global brand ambassador Kim Taehyung comes in for a photoshoot but his personal photographer is unavailable, the company offers the gig to you. Oh of course you take it in a heartbeat—it's a given.

pairing: brand ambassador!Taehyung x new photographer!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, smut, photography au, modeling au, s2l, two part series (duology?)

word count: 11.3k

warnings: exposes "dark side" of fashion world, oc gets insulted by fashion assistants (b-word dropped once but our oc bites back), flirty yet annoying videographer!kook, angry!seokjin, sunshine!stylist!hobi, charming!makeup artist!jimin, cool manager!joonie, Taehyung is an elegant flirt and not like the others, jazz bar date🥺, Taehyung calls her darling a lot, tehyung gets jealous, talk about long distance relationship, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, explicit sex (use of condom), big dick!tae (it takes a bit to get it all the way in 😬), praise kink, lingerie, small jewelry kink? (He f's oc with their ruby necklace on), doggy, size kink, multiple org*sms, squ*rting, oral (f. Receiving), half a hand*b, f*ngering, overstimulation, little bit of breastplay, cussing, d*rtytalk, foreplay, a little expressiveness, mention of aftercare, Taehyung just adores hers, hot car make out, mention of morning s*x

now playing: Slow Dancing by thv

a/n: first omg i never reached 11k in my life. Secondly, shoutout to anyone who has seen Devil Wears Prada...a personal favorite of mine. Also Layover is omg the best thing ever! So i decided to focus on slow dancing for this fic. Pls enjoy ❤

How many twenty-something-year-olds can say they work at one of the biggest, most luxurious jewelry & fragrance brands in the world? And on top of that, are located in the fashion capital; Paris, France? A rare handful, and it's because of those reasons that they're given the lowest positions possible; you being one of them.

Sure, climbing the corporate ladder is possible with years of relentless dedication, raw talent, and of course, let's not forget connections with the higher-ups. But competition grows fiercer with each passing year as more eager young people gun for advancements in hopes of survival.

After all, who can afford to be stuck on the bottom rung forever?

You didn't want to believe the undertone theme in the critically acclaimed movie The Devil Wears Prada was true, that underneath the glitz and glam of haute couture are ruthless, cutthroat fashion moguls. But from the moment you stepped through the doors of Adrien & Rosamel in your coffee brown slacks and beige button down shirt, it couldn't be refuted–

No one was your friend and no one wanted to be.

Newbies must establish their professional value to the brand as early as possible to prevent being cut at any given moment. On the other hand, experienced professionals who have already earned their merit through decades of labor refuse to give up the stake to their claim and must be careful not to have the carpet swept from under their feet to a junior half their age.

It's a vicious race and despite its bitter nature, you're at the very heart of it.

As a fashion photographer, your ultimate goal is to have weeks' worth of sessions with models from all over the world; all adorned with timeless pieces from genuine gold watches to the richest of gemstones.

These are the types of photographers who are the best and brightest in the industry. They have at least ten years of experience and are booked until the very last second with modeling photoshoots.

The odd prodigy exist too; individuals who are born with an insane wealth of insight and skill which allow them to move up in rank faster.

You wish you were good enough to be considered a prodigy but no such luck. Adrien & Rosamel have insanely high standards on who is allowed to handle the jewelry, let alone be around the models who are so-called showcasing them.

So here you are day what—241? And still stuck taking photos of the same jewelry pieces day in and day out. Sure the theme of the photos gets changed slightly but it's been eight months of this generic work and truth be told, you're getting sick of it.

"__!" Seokjin, your coworker and one of A&R's jewelry polishers calls your name anxiously. He rushes to your side where you're taking close-up photos of a limited-edition steel watch. "Be gentle with this, will you? This is selling for 7,000 euros which means $8,000, 10 million south korean won, and 6,000 pounds. I also just finished polishing it so don't be getting your grubby fingerprints all over it!"

You roll your eyes and continue to move the watch around on the display table until you get a perfect angle. "Relax princess, I'm barely touching it and I have gloves on."

Seokjin's fluffy eyebrows furrow together, face scrunching at the nickname you chose for him. "That's—that's completely uncalled for! Do you know how long I spent buffering the face of the watch alone?! One hour __!"

You hate yourself from bursting out in laughter but this isn't the first time you've gotten lectured by Seokjin. Its like the tiniest detail would set him off. Seokjin's been with the brand a little longer than you; a year now, but he still has that constant need to micromanage everyone he can.

"Look," he continues his scold. "If anything happens to these priceless watches it's my head on the chopping block. I can't afford to lose my job __!"

"Yes, I understand Seokjin. Nothing will happen to these alright?" You move around the man to get more pictures of the watch lying elegantly on its side. "Don't you have about fifty other watches to shine or do you like nitpicking my every movement instead?"

Seokjin scoffs at you, sticks his hands on his hip and walks away with a disapproving shake of his head. "I have my eye on you junior," he warns.

You ignore his subtle jab and continue taking photos. "Creep," you mutter under your breath.

Ten minutes pass and you're about ready to move on to the editing process for your photos. You take a quick peek at them through your camera, clicking through the gallery with the right arrow button.

"Not bad newbie," you hear a voice come from over your shoulder that causes you to jump in surprise.

"What the fuck Jeon," you throw your best side-eye at the young man who happens to be your only acquaintance in the whole company. His role was similar to yours, but instead of photographing jewelry he films them; he's a videographer. "I'm beginning to think you like sneaking up on me on purpose."

The young man laughs with a child-like energy. "What can I say? Seeing you flustered does something to me. But actually, I was just passing by. Haven't talked to you in a while."

Come to think of it he has a point. You haven't seen Jeon Jungkook in about two weeks straight. The two of you aren't friends so you don't check up on each other constantly but you'd like to think you have good rapport.

"What have you been up to anyway? I've seen you rushing around the place like you have millions of appointments to make," you ask.

"I've become a busy man babe," he replies with a cheeky grin. "The higher-ups have noticed my talent and I'm playing with the big boys now."

"You talk about the higher-ups like they're Big Brother or something. Come on, tell me again but in laymen terms."

He sighs at the need to repeat himself. "Okay, listen. I'm working with the models now and more specifically I have a 2 o'clock gig with Kim Taehyung tomorrow. You know, our global ambassador? I'm shooting the film portion of the campaign we're running for him. Isn't that insane?!" His eyes glow up at the mere mention of Kim Taehyung who you are well aware of.

Everything about your famed global ambassador is a fashion photographer's dream; tall, lean, and tantalizingly handsome.

"Of course, I know who Kim Taehyung is. His face is plastered all over the walls of Adrien & Rosamel. Even saw his face on one of our company mugs. Anyone who's anyone will sell their left kidney to breathe in the same room with him but how the heck did you land a shoot with him this early? You've been here for less time than me!"

You're not shouting, you promise. Just extremely envious at the continuous luck Jungkook is having.

"Well," he starts drawling his words. "I might have gotten close with Park Ji-hun over the last month or so. His daughter in particular." You raise your eyebrows in awe.

Park Ji-hun has been Kim Taehyung's personal photographer for nearly ten years. And next to the model himself, he's another highly talked about individual at Adrien & Rosamel.

"Please tell me you didn't use his daughter for your own professional gain," you interject. Jungkook waves his hands around disapprovingly at your suspicion.

"I didn't, we went out on a blind date. I didn't know who her father was until half-way through the date."

"Mhm, something tells me that that's not completely true."

"Okay, so maybe her name sounded a little familiar but I swear, I didn't know they were the same person. But long story short, we started going out and I managed to win her father's approval. And now he's letting me shoot with him!" Jungkook's enthusiasm dies when he sees you doing your best to give a tight-lipped smile. "Babe, listen. I know you and I had a thing a few months back but....you're not still pining over me are you?"

You shove him in the shoulder at the ridiculous question. "We never had a thing. Stop it. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around your recent success."

Jungkook shrugs. "I guess its fate. And we definitely had a thing," he gives a wink. "Well anyway, I need to get to another appointment in ten. Jimin's gonna completely flip if I'm late."

Your mouth gapes open. "You're working with Park Jimin too? He's one of our best makeup artists, what the hell?"

"There are many colors that suit you __. Green's not one of them." Jungkook spins himself around and walks away from you. "Catch you later!"

"Goddamnit," you curse to yourself. "Is he Mr. Perfect or something?"

"__, we're gonna need the space in about five minutes." Another photographer calls from behind you, reminding you that you need to make yourself scarce.

The next morning is absolute madness with the news of Kim Taehyung's arrival in Paris.

As one of the most iconic brand ambassadors and haute couture models, he has quite an impressive fan following from countries all over the world including France. From the moment he steps out of his plane until the minute he enters Adrien & Rosamel, the man is constantly surrounded by masses of people all standing around with their phone cameras.

The company doesn't exactly give him a break from the high intensity of the crowd either. All the assistants working today are tasked with both meeting his requests and socializing with him while the rest of the team hauls around studio equipment for his photoshoot.

"Did you see the way he looked at me Ha-rin?" You overhear one of the assistants boast to the other while passing in the hallway. "I've had such a crush on him for years and I finally have the chance to meet him. I swear, I'll do anything he asks me to do."

"Oh my god, how dense can you be? Sure he smiled at you but let's not forget who it was he asked to get water from," the second woman spats back, raising the unopened bottle of water in her left hand. "It was me. I'm the one he wanted."

You snort at how snarky the two of them are to each other. As if Kim Taehyung would give so much of a blink their way let alone "want" either of them. You've never met the man but you've seen his face enough to know he could have anyone he desired. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be anyone from the company.

"Excuse me," Ha-rin stops in her tracks and speaks in your direction. "Is there something you find funny?"

"I'm sorry?" You freeze in place, unsure of what the woman's referring to.

"Don't play coy junior. You snorted at us, kinda nosy to be listening in on a private conversation."

Fuck sake, you are getting so tried of everyone calling you junior. You weren't given the name __ for it to be ignored at will.

"My apologies if it seemed that way. I assure you I was thinking of other matters." Your Majesty, you wanted to add but didn't.

Ha-rin body scans you as you speak and it immediately makes you feel self-conscious. The way she purses her lips can't be anything but venom that's about to spit out at you. "It better be that way. And by the way, those pants don't do anything for you. Maybe wear a dress next time," she slithers.

"Oh you mean like the dress you're wearing?" you reply. "No thanks. I'm not looking to impress anyone here. I have to get back to work now so you'll both excuse me," you bid them adieu and continue walking down to your office.

"What a bitch," you overhear one of them say and you clench your fists with tears brimming underneath your eyes.

Don't you dare cry __. Not here.

So some of your eye makeup got smudged from your incident with thing 1 and thing 2. You hate how much such a shallow jab got to you but, you're only human.

Coming into such a luxe company you expected this type of behavior. Yet your dreams are so much bigger than them. You'll push through like always.

"Hey," a knock pounds on your door. "Need to talk to you. Busy?" Its you manager Namjoon.

"No." You give him your full attention. "What's going on?"

Namjoon closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. "We have a situation," he starts.

"Okay...what happened Joon?"

"Our shoot with Kim Taehyung is in less than an hour and Park Ji-hun is nowhere to be found in the building. We called him up and looks like he had another shoot scheduled during the same slot. Must have been an overlook on our part, his part, I don't care whose fault it is. But we need someone to fill in right now or we're not going to have any material for our campaign." It comes out all at once and the feeling of whiplash washes over you.

"On top of that," he continues, "I don't want to waste monsieur's time. He just flew 14 hours from Seoul. So, can you do it or no?"

Oh my god...you repeat at least twice in your head before forming a response.

"I'd be very grateful for this opportunity but shouldn't this go to the next best photographer available? I only shoot jewelry on its own. I've never done—"

"You are our next best option __. All our photographers are booked with other models for the next three months. You've been here long enough to know how packed schedules get. Please, I've seen your work. It's good. And if you want an in for your career, I'd grab your camera and meet Kim in the studio in two minutes."

"Well I—"

"Yes or no __? Because I can always give the opportunity to another jewelry photographer. I'd rather not because they're techniques not as good as yours but I'll do it if I have to."

Your mind scrambles for a concise answer. You've been working towards something like this for months, doing your best to perfect your craft in hopes the higher-ups might recognize you as they did Jungkook. Yet until now it's been null; no one has made you such an important offer.

"I'll grab my equipment and meet you all in the studio," you decide. Your manager nods in approval and moves to exit your office.

"That's what I was hoping to hear. You'll be working closely with Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok. I'm sure you're familiar with them, no?"

"Yes sir," you reply. "Quite familiar."

"Jung Hoseok," the man with likely the brightest and most genuine smile you've ever seen shakes your hand. "I'm Kim Taehyung's stylist for this shoot. We're going for laid-back, yet elegant and refined for the studio shoot. Tomorrow we'll go with a completely free theme when we shoot at the beach. I have some specific fashion pieces picked out that I think he'll make pop for this campaign."

"That sounds great Hoseok. I wasn't aware we were going to a location tomorrow though." You don't mean to sound naive but you really were just thrown into this only minutes ago.

He lets go of your hand after the quick shake. "Yes, we have a two-day shoot planned. I know this is all news to you as of five minutes ago. And I'll do my best to help I'm any way I can. Park Ji-hun believes that the jewelry pieces and cologne picked out for Taehyung will be best suited in two places. One, in the studio to highlight the jewelry and two, at the beach to create an atmosphere for the cologne."

"Makes sense, thank you for filling me in."

"Like I said, I'm going to do as much as I can to help. Jimin get over here and introduce yourself to __." He calls to the pink hair boy who's busy sorting through his makeup palettes.

"Park Jimin," he walks over to you and also shakes your hand. "Makeup artist. Jungkook's told me about you."

"Oh god," you slip out and everyone chuckles. "Do I need to go hide somewhere now?" Who knows what Jungkook's said about you. Looks like he really is trying to get cozy with as many people as he can here.

"No no," Jimin waves of your slight embarrassment. "He just said you're an acquaintance that's all." You want to believe him but the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth has you second-guessing.

It's not like Jungkook has a lot of beef with you or "secrets" to spill. He just had a big mouth, flirted with everyone in sight his first three months at the company and you happened to be his first target.

But no biggie. He's dating Park Ji-hun's daughter now, right?

"Love," it's Jimin's voice again. "Don't take this as any offense but I think you need a touch-up. Half your makeup's wiped from your face. Let me fix it for you okay?"

Well if you weren't embarrassed before you are now. Jimin's a professional make-up artist, surely his eyes are fine-tuned to the human face and pick up on make-up inconsistencies.

"Sure," you give in. "That'd be great."

Jimin walks over to his pile of make-up supplies and grabs a classic black eyeliner. "Close your lids," he tells you softly. He gently draws a wing over the lid that needs the most help and then, reaches for an eyeshadow that matches the other eye. "Okay, almost there. Just a few more brushes of this and you'll be good to go."

Though your eyes are closed you can easily distinguish the sound of a third voice.

"So you said yes huh?" Jungkook nears you and Jimin with a cheesy grin. "Now who's moving up in the world?"

"This is our first time working together Jeon," you reply. "Let's keep things professional shall we?"

"Oh please, you should be thanking me instead of giving me pointers on how our professional relationship should be." Jungkook snaps back and you stiffen at his words.

"Thank you? For what?"

"Namjoon didn't mention who exactly dropped your name as a potential candidate to clear up this little mess of ours? When Ji-hun told us he accidentally double-booked I immediately suggested you. I'm hurt you didn't know." He puts his hands over his heart as if pretending to be in pain.

"Wow, well you're right. I suppose I owe you my thanks." And here you thought people only looked out for themselves. Still, it's not like you and Jungkook are gunning for the same position. Him helping you doesn't exactly put him at a disadvantage.

You do feel more pressured to do well for this shoot though. Not only is it your first model shoot, and with all people, it happens to be with Kim Taehyung but it'll backfire on Jungkook if the photos you capture turn up bad. You don't want to imagine what that'll do to both of your professional credibility.

"Alright you're good as new love," Jimin pipes up. You open your eyes and mouth a thank you but you find the words turn into gibberish as the man of the hour finally rounds the corner of the studio.

"Monsieur," Hoseok is the first to greet Kim Taehyung as he enters the space. "Good to see you again."

"How are you Hobi?" Such an endearing nickname comes from a deep, honey voice. It charms your ears. Kim Taehyung stands straight with one hand in the pocket of his loose black slacks while the other rests near the edge of his matching black blazer. It's oversized with a basic, yet clean white t-shirt. Elegant yet, relaxed.

"Doing well, thank you. But I'm afraid you'll need to change out of these clothes soon. We have a perfect ensemble picked out that'll combine well with your style and the pieces you'll be showing off." Hoseok guides him towards the dressing rooms but as he does, your eyes catch Taehyung's.

"Monsieur," Jimin and Jungkook rush to his side at once when they see him looking over. "This is __." They gesture at you with a hand. "She'll be filling in for Park Ji-hun during the entirety of the shoot."

Taehyung's chocolate eyes study your features, your posture, and most of all your lack of movement as he waits for you to say something.

You bow realizing all you've been doing is staring at his flawless face. You've seen him on social media, posters, promo banners, everything, and anything but seeing him in person is not at all the same. "Monsieur," you greet. "It's a pleasure to meet you and to be working with you for the next two days. As the others have said, my name is __."

The man takes long, purposeful strides toward you. "I promise, the pleasure is all mine," he says with a hand moving to shake yours. His long, beautiful fingers wrap around your hand and pull you into a firm grip. "Thank you for stepping in for Ji-hun. And from now on, there's no need to be formal. You can call me Taehyung."

He then flashes you a smile that makes you begin to understand why the two assistants from earlier were so adamant on getting his attention; he's breathtakingly gorgeous. You feel yourself on the brink of a cold sweat at any moment.

"I insist everyone call me by my first name," he says. "I'm an easy man."

"But Mons–" you start but he quirks a brow at you in expectation to fulfill his request. "I understand."

"Do you model as well?" Taehyung asks casually after retracting his hand. "Sorry, I can't help but notice that you have a lovely bone structure. I like to paint in my spare time and sometimes I enjoy having live models as a reference."

The question takes you by surprise. Not many people bother to compliment your physical features expect maybe a few of your closest friends. "I don't model. I prefer being the one behind the creation, like how I'll be behind the camera with you."

He chuckles at your reply. "If you ever change your mind, I'd be happy to paint a portrait of you."

"Well thank you. I'm afraid I don't do nudes though." You really ought to shut your mouth sometimes. Of course, artists don't solely paint nude portraits. What are you saying?

The man in front of you ponders your choice of words for a few seconds too long then leans in towards your ear. Not so far that it's invasive but enough that you're the only one able to hear. "Again, if you ever change your mind....I'd be honored to paint you."

"Monsieur this is not appropriate to be saying."

"I'm not the one saying inappropriate things. I merely said I wanted to paint you as any artist would. You're the one that mentioned getting undressed."

Taehyung straightens himself back up and turns his whole body around. "Hobi," he shifts his attention to his stylist. "Show me what I need to wear today."

You're left standing with a baffled facial expression.

Kim Taehyung is the most elegant flirt and tease you've ever met.

After fifteen minutes Taehyung comes back to the studio in a shaggy grey button-down cardigan and plaid grey slacks. A gold chain necklace with a panther and tassle-like pendant hangs around his neck and on his left hand is a matching gold watch with a gold ring resting on his pointer finger.

They're all part of A&R's newest Panther collection and look nothing short of magnificent on him.

"We'll start with a few standing shots focusing on the ring and necklace separately," you say.

Taehyung nods in understanding and walks over to the studio setup that has a grey-ish purple green screen. Large studio lights hover on either side of the set to which Taehyung poses himself between.

He stands straight forward, eyes directly in line with the camera lens and jaw relaxed into a natural facial expression. It's a simple first pose to start off with but for a reason unexplainable Taehyung gives it new meaning.

It's takes you aback when you look at him through the lens of your camera. The closer you moves towards him to capture a clear shot, the more you're spooked by his intense eyes.

What makes it worse is when he decides to bring his pointer finger, the one with the ring, up to his mouth. His teeth latch gently around the gold band as it settles between his lips. You take several shots, adjusting the exposure on your camera as needed.

"Stunning," you hum in approval. Taehyung then slips the ring off his finger and again places it between his teeth. He tilts his head to the side to add to the flirtatious undertone of the pose.

"How was that?" He asks you after a few rapid flashes of the camera. "Thought I'd try something a little different this time."

"Came out perfect," you answer. "Flirty yet classically romantic. It molds well with our Panther campaign and brand. Suits you well too."

Taehyung's pleased by your words. "I'm glad you see it that way. I've always had a love for timeless themes. It's one of the reasons why I became an ambassador for Adrien & Rosamel. No other brand brings back the romantic past better."

"I agree with you completely. I fell in love with Adrien & Rosamel at a young age, around 13 I'd say. I always imagined myself to be largely integrated with the brand when I became an adult. Photography happened to help me get my foot in the door."

"Don't forget about me __," Jungkook interrupts from a couple feet away. "I got you this gig didn't I?"

Taehyung frowns at Jungkook's comment. "What does he mean?" He asks you. "Ji-hun specifically chose you to fill in for him didn't he?"

"Not exactly," you says with a flushed face. "Jungkook works closely with him and he was the one who recommended me to step in today. So I do owe him my life I suppose."

"You don't at all," Taehyung replied in a firmer tone than before. "He may have done you a favor but it's your talent that got you here. If your work wasn't good, do you think he'd take the risk of suggesting you?"

You stay silent as he continues.

"I've been in the industry for ten years, and no one lays their head on the line for you unless it benefits them in some way. Don't let him rob you of your achievements. And between you and me, I think he has an odd fixation on you." Taehyung lowers his voice. "Forgive me for being forward but he's not a jealous ex is he?"

You want to chuckle at the notion. "He's not, not at all." Taehyung laughs with you.

"So he's just a pain in the ass then," he says and you snort. "Had my share of them but not to worry. The best thing to do is to shake it off and in time, he'll realize everything you've gotten is by your own efforts and that you don't need his so called favors."

"Thank you Taehyung," you say, still a bit uneven as calling models like Taehyung was not what you were trained to do at Adrien & Rosamel. "We should probably move on with the shoot now."

"Sure, there's another pose I have in mind that I think will make the necklace stand out."

Taehyung steps away from you and turns around so his face is in front of the green screen. The cardigan he's wearing is cut to expose a large section of his back which allows pieces of the necklace to dangle against his smooth, bronze skin.

"What do you think? Does this fit the theme or does it look weird?" He rests one hand behind his head while the other raises above his head.

"Very artistic, hold the pose for me. Also, it's highly unlikely that you could ever look weird Taehyung." You focus the camera on the gold pendant. "You're a living and breathing aesthetic on your own."

"You know those are the same exact words I thought of when I mentioned wanting to paint you earlier. Seems like we see similarly don't we?"

"I guess we do, wow I never thought of myself as capable of having my own aesthetic. I feel like a carbon copy of everyone else some days." Once again you're stunned by his forwardness but you take it at face value. Perhaps he's naturally flirtatious even if he isn't meaning to be.

Taehyung looks over his shoulder at you and shakes his head in protest. "There's only one you __. You're not a carbon copy, so believe me when I say you're an aesthetic of your own as well. Which I would still like to get on canvas by the way."

"You're relentless about turning me into some kind of muse. I'm afraid I don't think I have the time, and neither do you now that I think of it. You fly back to Seoul after our shoot is over don't you?"

"I'm here for a couple of months actually," he surprises you with his reply. "Thought if I'm in Paris I might as well take some time to enjoy myself."

"That's fair. Now turn around again, I need to get a few more shots of the necklace."

"Your wish is my command." Taehyung faces away from you with a smile. He's decided he likes you. Maybe its a gift that Park Ji-hun couldn't do his photo session today.

"Do you want to know my favorite position?" Taehyung lays on his side with one hand supporting his head while the other clutches his elbow. The angle let's light from the softbox hit the gold watch perfectly, allowing it to be the star of the show; which is no easy task to achieve when it's Kim Taehyung who's modeling.

"No talking please," you respond, bending down on a knee in front for him. Your eye peeks through the camera lens to capture a good shot.

At your request, Taehyung does his best to remain silent but he can't help but notice your grip on the camera has gotten shakier. "Are you alright?" he asks with the tiniest smirk on his face. "Do you need a break? We've been going nonstop for nearly two hours now."

"Everything's fine Mon—"

"Taehyung," he interjects softly and slowly sits up from his position on the chaise lounge. "And here I thought we were starting to become comfortable with each other. Yet watching you struggle to hold that camera in place makes me feel bad. Let's pause for a few okay?"

You flush as he nears you, a tad embarrassed at the situation. You're a professional photographer which means you should be fully capable of moving forward with today's session without any breaks.

But you're palms are sweaty and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight from taking hours of close-up shots of the most handsome man on earth.

What's more, is that he keeps tossing out more flirty one-liners and finding ways to compliment you. And let's not forget your earlier exchange about the whole painting ordeal–wanting to put you on canvas and all.

No one warned you Kim Taehyung was going to be like this.

"What can I do to make you comfortable again, __?" He crouches directly in front of you with wisps of his honeyed locks dangling over his eyes. As he waits for your answer, the camera shutter clicks, getting a not-so-elegant close-up of his crotch.

Fuck. You didn't mean to take that.

"Too bad Hobi didn't give me a designer belt to wear. That would have made a great photo," Taehyung teases as he watches your fingers scrabble to delete the photo from your camera roll. "Imagine the kind of awards you'd win."

Oh god. You want to slap yourself awake now.

"Sorry," you rush to say anything at this point. "I think a break might be good after all."

"How about some fresh air? Last I knew it's a beautiful day out." Taehyung stands up and offers you a hand.

"You're offering to go out together?" You hesitate to put your hand in his at first but ultimately give in.

"Why not? It's up to you but I'd like to get some air in my lungs. Gets a little stuffy in here doesn't it?" Once he pulls you up he pulls his hand back. "Let's take a fifteen-minute break everyone," he calls to the rest of the team who nod and scatter in opposite directions.

"Fantastic." You hear Jimin talk to himself. "I've been needing to go to the bathroom for an hour already!" He scurries out of the studio as quick as his legs will carry him.

You and Taehyung find a quiet spot on the terrace above the company's enclosed garden. It's a recent edition the executives thought might give employees a small escape from the chaos of the day. And so far, it's been much appreciated. Being an unconventional hour to take a break, you're the only ones currently using the space.

"Can I ask you a question?" You cross your arms on the metal railing of the terrace and look at Taehyung beside you. He's standing calmly by the railing too with his hands in his pocket.

"Ask me anything," he replies.

"I haven't been in the fashion world nearly as long as you have but I know enough that people aren't as open as you are. You're much friendlier than most and I was wondering if you've always been that way. Even with Hoseok you call him Hobi, an endearing name."

He looks out into the distance at the perfectly trimmed bushes and trees, all square-shaped. "I became a model when I was 17. I hadn't even graduated high school yet when an agency recruited me. I thought it was a great opportunity until I saw the hunger for fame in my peer's eyes. Due to my appearance, I was given more chances to be on the cover of serious magazines like Vogue and Louis Vuitton but models who were there longer than me didn't. They were given shoots too but they were on a lower scale. Long story short they would scheme to get me in some kind of trouble so I'd get fired so they could take my place."

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I didn't want to believe that the industry was as vicious as I was told prior to entering it myself, but it is. So many of my coworkers can't wait to see someone fail so they can be promoted."

"It's a shame that it's like this __." Taehyung looks at you now, a serious expression on. "It doesn't have to be this aggressive cycle of stepping on the next guy to get to your ideal position. That's why I've decided to go against the current and make as many friends as I can. People I genuinely like tend to be my closest connections." His eyes soften at this as he scans your face.

"That's a nice sentiment but doesn't that open you up to being taken advantage of?" You think back to the two assistants from earlier this morning in the hallway. Seemingly friends on the surface but actually yanking on each other's hair below.

He shrugs and pushes a couple of loose strands of his hair behind his ear. "Sure it might but, I couldn't sleep peacefully knowing I earned my achievements by cheating everyone else out of theirs. Life's too difficult to not have a good night's sleep do you think?"

"True," you agree. "I wish more people had this sort of mindset."

"Well, luckily we can lead by example. I assume you run against the current too?"

"I try but I still have a lot of ambition so I can't say I've made any friends so far. Other than maybe Jungkook."

"Ambition is good, distinguishes the serious people from the non-serious. Friends aren't easy to make in our world __ and pardon me but that Jungkook guy isn't your friend. At most he probably has a crush on you."

"Jungkook has a crush on anyone with two legs and boobs," you chuckle and Taehyung does the same. "But he has a girlfriend now I think."

"Well, that's a relief." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I don't have to worry about him being a threat anymore."

You snicker at his comment. "What threat?"

Taehyung breaks into a shy grin and looks towards the ground. "Forget it, I'm just kidding around. We should head back inside. I think our time's about up." He moves to walk back inside the building but you stop him.

"Wait, no." You step closer to him. "I didn't get that joke."

He flickers his eyes up and down your body, taking in your curiosity. "You need me to spell it out for you __?" He pauses and takes a breath. "You're beautiful and I find myself extremely attracted to you. I'd–god forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable– I'd like to take you out while I'm still in Paris."

"Taehyung, that's....not a joke. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. If you don't want to it's okay. Just say the word."

You smooth your hands down the side of your pants nervously. "Okay, what time and where?"

Taehyung's as shocked as you are by your response. "What are you doing tonight at 7 p.m?" he replies.

"Nothing, what are you doing?"

"Taking you out on a date I think. How's your dancing?"

"Oh I...I don't know. Depends on the type of dance. Why?" You know why. Of course, someone like Taehyung will want to take a slightly unconventional path for a first date.

"I want to take you to Le Duc des Lombards, you know that private jazz bar in town. So, if you can sway and don't mind being close to me we'll be in business."

"Alright." Don't overthink it, you think to yourself. It's just dancing. No biggie. "7 it is. I'll meet you there I guess."

"I can pick you up, actually, I'd really like to pick you up if I can. I know I'm such an old soul aren't I?"

"No problem," you can't contain your beaming smile. "We can exchange numbers and I'll text you my address."

"My phone's back in the studio. Let's do that before the end of the shoot."

"Shut the front door __!" Your best friend Elaine screams over the phone. "You're definitely wearing the sexy red dress I bought you for your birthday if you going to a jazz bar with, oh my god I can't even say his name. I'm so excited for you babe!"

"It's one date, Elaine. It'll probably not go anywhere either. I'm going into this as a fun night out with a very handsome man and that's all." You browse through your closet for something to wear. You've already showered and touched up your make-up. "Damn it, I have about twenty minutes before he gets here."

"I'm telling you __, wear the red one. Even if this will be a one-night thing it doesn't mean you can't look drop-dead gorgeous. Also, one more thing. What are you wearing for underwear?"

"Elaine!"

"What? If it were me I'd be looking as hot as I can tonight. Gives you a boost of confidence."

"Maybe," you say and pull out a black dress. "I'll think about it."

"Well think fast, because you're down to fifteen minutes now."

"Uh, shit." You toss the dress when you see there's a small tear in the strap. "Please tell me how I'm in the fashion industry and can't find anything to wear without holes in it."

"This is the last time I'm saying this __. Put on the red dress. It's more of a maroon so it'll make you blend with the mood of jazz but you'll pop out as well. And you'll look elegant with the silk sleeves and it's above the knee so you'll stay cool when you dance."

You card back the hangers until you get the dress Elaine is talking about. It's never been worn and it really is beautiful. "The neckline's kinda deep though," you say.

"You're boobs aren't gonna fall out if that's what you're worried about. I've seen the dress and it'll be great on your body. Plus, worst-case scenario you get laid by the hottest man in the damn universe."

"I'm not having sex with him you know..." you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. "This is a–"

"Fun night out. Yes babe, whatever you want to think." Elaine snickers over the phone.

"Fine, you win but I have to change now okay?" You set the phone down and start untying your robe. Are you wearing a transparent black lace set underneath? Yeah, but it's not like anyone's going to know about it.

"Don't forget to call me later! Or tomorrow depending on how tonight goes," she snickers again.

"Goodbye Elaine," you shake your head and end the call.

"You know what might look great with this dress is that ruby necklace I bought ages ago," you say to yourself. The necklace you're referring to is dainty yet never a let down no matter what you pair it with.

Satisfied, you head to your jewlery case in search for it.

"I see you found the place okay." You say once you hop into the passenger seat of Taehyung's Porsche. Man does well for himself.

"I did, and you look like a million dollars darling. Aphrodite herself couldn't even compare. I'm going to have the worst time trying not to stare at you tonight." Taehyung stands on the other side of your door and waits for your feet to be tucked in the vehicle before letting the door shut.

He insisted he come around and open it for you when he saw a glimpse of your figure walking towards his car.

"Darling?" you repeat inquisitively when he jumps in the drivers seat.

"Do you not like it? It's kinda old I know." Taehyung starts the car and puts the car in gear. He turns the wheel single-handedly and pulls out of your driveway.

There's something about seeing a man do this that always lights a fire inside you. Especially when said man is currently in a white, freshly pressed dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and dark grey dress pants.

"I like it," you say. "Darling. It fits the night well, since we're going go the jazz club. I like this look on you by the way."

Taehyung smiles at you briefly before focusing back on the road. The hand that rests on his knee shakes a little and his grip tightens on the wheel. "Hearing you compliment me makes me a little shy, sorry. But by the way, I like that ruby necklace you have on."

You smile and play with the chain. Always a hit.

The club is moderately crowded when you step foot in the building. The atmosphere is warm and inviting with the creme tones, bright white ceiling lights, and soft purple strobe lighting that shines from the stage. You and Taehyung are lucky to find a free table to claim on the end of the second row of seating.

"Have you been to Le Duc des Lombards before?" He asks, letting you take the inner seat.

"I came once but it was a long time ago when I was in college," you answer.

"Really?" Taehyung takes the seat next to you. "Where did you study?"

"Spéos photography school. A lot of wanna-be professional photographers attend there. I'm fortunate to be able to go."

"I'm glad you got to study there. I assume that's how you got a job with Adrien & Rosamel right?"

"It was definitely the main reason but," you sigh. "I did have some gracious references who help me get in, including Jungkook who went to the same school. As a videographer we were project partners a few times so he was a good person of contact. Along with a few professors of course."

Taehyung snatches the bar menu placed at your table, more aggressively than expected. "No offense but I'm really starting to not like that guy," he grits, jaw clenching. "From now on you can put me down for any further references. The photos you took look wonderful and you know I have some solid connections with some very important individuals."

"Taehyung..." You're amused by the peek of jealousy. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? The photos need to be approved by our campaign managers first before any merit is given. Plus, you're not my boyfriend."

"Could be your boyfriend," he quips back and you whip your head in his direction.

"Hm?"

"Hm what? You heard me."

"I thought you said you were shy tonight," you accuse and lean over his shoulder to scan over the drink menu with him. When you do you get a strong whiff of his cologne. God, you love the smell of cologne. Would it be too far for you to grab him by the shirt collar and throw your face into his chest?

Yes __, too far. Don't do that. You waive off the thought.

"What do you want from the bar?" Taehyung asks and you give him your response. He heads for the bar in the back of the room as soon as you tell him, not even giving you any time to grab your wallet.

"Tae–" you jump up from you seat. "You don't have to pay for me. I can get my own."

"As my date, I'd be my honor to buy a drink for you __. But you can keep calling me Tae, it sounds nice coming from your lips." He turns around and continues to the bar.

Nearly two hours of live jazz music later and a few drinks later, you find yourself in a pair of long, sturdy arms. One of Taehyung's hands curls around your waist while the other laces in your fingers.

"You sway well," he drawls, pulling you closer to his body. I'd make you squirm more than you already are if it weren't for a bit of liquor in your system. "In fact, you're a natural. Makes me wonder what other areas you have a natural talent for."

"Okay monsieur," you playfully joke and continue to let him dance you in small circles. "We're getting a little close to the hot zone now."

"Are we? Must be because you're so unbearably hot. Did I tell you to look like Aphrodite in this dress?" Taehyung slips his hand from your waist. "Can I spin you?"

You nod and distance your body from his to prepare to spin into him. "If my memory serves right, you told me Aphrodite couldn't compare to me. Not that I look like her," you respond to his prior question.

"Ah that's right," he hums. "That's even better."

Taehyung's slender arms wrap around your waist when you get to the end of your twirls. Your back presses tight against his chest as he brings his lips near your ear. "You remember when I asked you if you wanted to know my favorite position? Well, this is one of them, darling."

Your breaths get shorter as you take in his charm and you're forced to look into the crowd of people in front of you. Most are busy dancing with their own partners but a few stragglers smile in your direction.

"You make a lovely couple," one older woman says to you both. "You'll make beautiful children."

"Oh we're not–"

"Yes, we will. Thank you, madame," Taehyung cuts in and you pull yourself from his hold to face him.

"Tae, what the hell are you saying?" His face sculpted from the gods themselves stares down at you in a devilish smirk.

"Is it too hot now?" He teases as he refers to your comment minutes ago about it getting too close to the hot zone.

"You're drunk aren't you?" You gently accuse with your arms crossing over your chest.

"I'm not." He snakes his arms back around you smoothly. "I have to drive you home tonight. What kind of man would I be if I got drunk?"

You let him pull you into himself again and this time when he does you feel the outline of an erection forming in his trousers.

Fuck, you curse to yourself, he's not small that's for damn sure.

"How are you feeling __? Getting tired or you wanna stay longer?"

You smirk. "I should be asking you that seeing you have a situation down there."

"Shit—" he quickly retracts his hands on your waist and backs away from you. "I'm sorry, I know we've been flirting around but I don't want to you to think that's all I'm here for."

"Its okay Taehyung, it's just a biological response," you try to soothe. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah but it's because of you," he stresses. "I want you to know that I'm into you romantically and not just horny with lust."

Your heart clenches and your feet move to approach him on their own. You cup his cheeks with your hands and stare deep into his coffee-black eyes. "Taehyung, I've had my share of male suitors who have all been horny with lust and nothing else. I never thought for a second you were one of them okay? Plus, you're not the only one worked up tonight." You bite your cheek, unsure what'll come from admitting to the following.

"I like you too Taehyung," you finish.

"You do?" He asks with stars in his eyes, same blinding smile as usual.

You nod in affirmation.

"Is this the part where I get to kiss you?" His lids relax as he waits for your response.

"I suppose you can. Are you a good kisser?"

Taehyung snorts lightly and surprises you with a quick peck to your lips. But when he tilts his head back to look you in the eye again, you pull his face back to yours and press your lips fully on his.

Taehyung finds your waist with his fingers again the longer and deeper the kiss gets. He moves his soft lips on yours firmly then sucks on your bottom lip until his tongue is granted access into your mouth.

"Tae," you moan his name quietly. "People are starting to stare."

"And?"

You reluctantly break the kiss. "We should probably finish this in the car."

"I'd much rather have you finish in my bed though," he says before thinking it through. "Shit—sorry I did it again."

Taehyung's lips move against yours roughly as he makes out with you in the back seat. You decided I'd be easier to kiss without the center console getting in the way.

"You know I don't like putting out on the first date but...how long until you have to return to Seoul?" You tug his blonde hair as his hands wander up and down your torso.

"Two months," he replies, slightly pained. "That's actually something we should talk about if this is going where I think it is."

"Do you not do long distance relationships?"

"I don't know." He brings his lips to the side of your neck, sucking on the delicate skin. "I've never done it before. Have you?"

You shake you head. "No but I heard it's not easy."

Taehyung moves away from your neck to take your hands in his and presses a kiss to them. "I guess we have a few choices then. One, we stop here and sum it up to a nice evening out where I got to steal a kiss the most beautiful woman. I might cry myself to sleep later," he jokes but you wouldn't out it completely past him.

"Two, we make the best of it while I'm here. I'll take you out every night possible until I have to leave. We call it a temporary relationship of sorts. Or my personal favorite, we date with intent and I'll visit you every chance I get. I'll even relocate if necessary."

"God Taehyung, I don't even know. How can you decide so soon?"

"The moving part was too much, I know. I just meant that I want to be serious. Or at least give it a shot. But if that's something that doesn't work for you then we should probably stop here."

"I want to go out again though. I don't want to stop."

"So what?"

"Call me crazy but let's be serious. You're an adult, I'm an adult. Let's fucking do this." You go to kiss him again but he doesn't let you.

"Wait, __. You sure you want to go through with this?"

"I know there's a lot of grey areas to consider but I'd hate to miss out on something amazing because of a potential threat. We go out and if it works out well, then maybe...one of us can relocate. And if it doesn't then we gave it our best."

"Alright," he slowly leans his face towards you again. "If you're on board then I am too. Since we're doing it this way....do you want me to take you home?"

You shake your head in rejection. "Take me to your bed Taehyung."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful you always make a fool out of me."

Taehyung traces down the curves of your body with cool hands as you stand in front of him in nothing but your black lingerie on. He's asked that your ruby necklace stay on too which did throw you off guard a tad.

His shirt is off himself, revealing his lean, tanned torso. His pants are off as well, showing off his his muscular thighs. No wonder he's one of the most wanted models in the world.

He's absolutely breathtaking.

"Is this designer?" He asks and you nod. "Of course, only the finest lace should be allowed to touch your body." Slender fingers dance across the cups of your bra, feeling the fabric carefully. He's not gropping at all.

"You're a flatterer aren't you?" You look him in the eye and your heart skips a beat. He's staring back at you with a similar intensity as the shoot earlier. Just like a panther, you think —alluring, dangerous, and incapable of escaping.

"Not flattering darling. Admiring," he responds lowly. "Can I remove it?" He leans forward to reach behind your back and graze across the hooks of the bra. His lips press a kiss to the space just below your ear as he does.

"Y-yes, please do," your voice hitches.

Taehyung unfastens the material from your body and you shake it off your arms and let it fall on the floor.

"Fuck," he swears and nibbles the edge of your ear while he palms your bare breasts. He thumbs at your nipples a little until their pebbling to his satisfaction. "Are you sure I can't make you my muse for my next painting?"

You chuckle and let him mouth at one of your breasts. "Maybe in time—oh god that feels good," you moan his tongue licks across you nipple.

"In time? Seems we've made some progress. You gave me a flat out no this morning." Taehyung lowers himself on his knee and presses a kiss to your bare waist. Its gentle and featherlike. He then fiddles with the edge of your lace panties as he did with your bra.

"That's because we were strangers, coworkers. However you want to call it."

"Mm, you have a point. May I?" He asks for permission and you nod with a small whine. His fingers brushing around your hips, nearing your ass only hightens your arousal.

Once he drags the thin material down your legs you step out of them and kick them to the side. Taehyung groans deeply when your center is exposed to him.

"Gods I want to lick this pussy so much. Will you let me eat you out tonight?"

"Fuck Tae," you card through his blonde hair. "Yes."

"Lets get you on my bed," he grunts, getting up from his kneeled position. He leads you to the edge of his bed where you crawl on top of his rich comforter, ass in full view as he follows behind you.

Once you're settled on your back Taehyung pushes your legs up and spreads your thighs wide open. He then crouches between them and kisses you inner thighs.

"You're very wet down here," he mumbles. "Do you want fingers first?"

"Three please," you request, already clawing at the sheets.

"Three?" Taehyung lifts his head to look at you. "You're certain you want to start with three?"

You chuckle. "I have the feeling that I'm going to need to take at least three fingers and your tongue before I can take your cock wholely. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He smirks and brings a slender finger up your slit. "No, you couldn't be more right." He pushes the finger all the way in, sinking between your velvety walls.

"Ohh," you moan.

Taehyung adds another, pumping and curling both fingers before adding the third. "So wet baby, do you hear yourself?"

The squelching sound of his fingers working in your pussy causes your core to clench and a streak of pearly white liquid to run down your thigh. Taehyung grows feral at the sight and starts pumping into you at a faster pace.

"Goddamn you're a sensitive one. When's the last time you were fingered?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Probably two years ago?"

"Well allow me to reacquaint you with such pleasure."

Taehyung continues to work in your pussy with his fingers, hitting your g-spot with every push and curl. Strings of profanities leave your mouth as he does this and when he licks his tongue over your folds you scream in pleasure.

"Fuck Tae, don't stop! So good, oh my god," you moan and sink your fingers in his hair.

He doesn't stop at all, he doesn't slow down either. His fingers eventually pull out of you after a dozen more pumps to make room for his tongue to dip in your pussy. He teases your clit too which is all you needed to send you over the edge.

"I'm coming Tae," you say as your come on his tongue. He groans at the act and cleans up as much left over spillage as he can before moving away from your center.

"I love the way you taste," he licks the corner of his lips and makes his way up your body until he's hovering over your face. Taehyung presses a hard kiss to your lips after with traces of your come still on his tongue.

"Don't you agree?" He asks when he gives you a breath.

"I think I'd prefer the taste of something else instead," you respond with eyes flickering to his crotch.

He smirks and brings a hand up to graze the ruby necklace that's still around your neck. "You want my cock in your mouth baby? Wanna suck on it nice and firm between those pretty lips?"

"I do. Want to make you feel good too and taste your come."

"Mm," he groans. "Don't temp me darling. I'd really much rather come in your tight pussy."

"In a condom," you remind him.

"Yes of course, but still, in your pussy," he replies. "But who am I to deny you of what you want. Pick one, in your mouth or in your cunt?"

Your pussy clenches at his casualness. "Do I have to pick just one?"

"Fucking hell," he seethes. "You're a little greedy for our first time together aren't you?"

"ijuswansucuok."

"What?"

"I just want to suck your cock," you repeat. "But if I had to choose I want you to fuck me."

Taehyung gets off the bed hearing your words and sticks his thumbs in his briefs. "I'll tell you what," he pushes his underwear down to let his cock bounce free. It's huge, vein tracing up the underside, and leaking with pre-cum at the tip.

"I'll let you suck me off any other time because as you can see, I'm inches away from blowing my load already. But to make up for it, I'll let you have your pick of any position you want."

Your eyes train on his throbbing length as he crawls back to you on the bed. You know you should control yourself but you can't help but reach out and touch it.

"Oh fuuck," he clenches his teeth as your hand tightens around him. Your thumb traces his slit, rubbing circles on it. "God your fingers feel heavenly on me. But I need you to stop and tell me what position you want to be in, please."

"Doggy and can you make me squirt?"

"Yes fuck," he moans as you keep teasing his slit. "Face the headboard and get on your hands and knees."

You do as as he says and thank god you did because he was seconds away from thrusting up in your hand. Taehyung grabs a condom from the drawer by his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth. He then rolls it down his think length until he completely covered.

"Ready?" He asks you.

"Put it in me Tae. Need you inside me, please."

"I'm going to ease in alright? I'm pretty fucking big and I don't want to hurt you." At that he clamps his hands around your waist and starts nudging his cock into your entrance.

"Oh fuck—" you screw your eyes shut at the stretch. So good but he's right, he's too big. You don't know how he's going to fit himself all the way in you.

"Keep breathing darling and relax your muscles. We're taking this really slow until I can bottom out."

You do as he says as he continues to sink his length into you. "Taehyung, Taehyung fuck it feel so good but god you're a beast."

"I know and you're doing so good for me," he coos. "We're about halfway there. You're pussy feels amazing around me. Still wet with your come."

You grip the mattress and let out moan after moan. "You're only half-way in me? God I feel like I'm being split in half."

Taehyung pulls himself out of you then thrusts back in, gently but firm enough to jolt your whole body forward. He repeats the motion with each thrust going deeper than the last.

"Shit!" He groans as he beats himself into you. "So close baby. I'm almost all the way in."

"Taehyungtaehyungtaehyung," is the only word coming from you. All you feel is pleasure as he thrusts himself into you. It's been so long since you felt this good, and who the hell would have guessed it'd be Kim Taehyung to remind you of such feelings.

"There we go," he grunts as he finally, finally bottoms out. "There we fucking go baby, how are you feeling?" He asks as he picks up his pace.

"Fuck me—harder Tae," your moans are incoherent as your whole body to Taehyung.

The next ten minutes are nothing but skin slapping against skin as his cock beats inside of you, desperately working you up to another orgasm.

"Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Taehyung pulls himself all the way back then snaps his hips back in, making you dizzy with arousal. "Look at you taking my big cock all at once. Just so eager to please huh? Like the way I fill you up?"

"Yes, yes I do," you pant, sweat dripping from your forehead. If you looked over your shoulder you'd see Taehyung doing the same. "I'm getting close Tae!"

"Go ahead and play with your clit for me then," he growls. "You must be so sore down there."

You quickly reach a hand down to your clit, circling it while Taehyung thrusts himself into you wholeheartedly. "Oh god, I'm almost there. I feel it Tae," you moan as the cord inside you gets tighter, threatening to break any second.

"Go on, coat my cock with your slick darling. Show me how good I'm making you feel as I rearrange your guts. You feel it deep in your stomach can't you? Fuck, I'm close myself!"

You grind your hips on his cock a few times and with that you reach your high, releasing all over Taehyung. But despite your second orgasm, his cock keeps thrusting into you.

"Can you give me one more? Need to make you squirt."

"Uh I don't know Tae, I'm not sure if I can c-come again."

"Yes you can and you will." He fucks into as hard as he can at that, no other words come from him other than deep groans. You on the other hand can't stop screaming.

"Too much Taehyung, I can't, please, need you to come. Fuck!" Despite your protest you are indeed close to a other orgasm; the third one of the night. You pussy uncontrollably clenches around Taehyung as his cock starts twitching inside you.

"Just a little more darling, getting so close. Gonna make you feel so good," he promises as his thrusts get sloppier.

"You already made me feel good Tae, want you to come too."

"I am," he replies, finally releasing. "Oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

"You're squirting baby. Making a mess all over me and my thousand dollar sheets."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry-fuck. I'll replace them!"

"Like hell you will," he pulls out of you, ties his condom off and tosses in the trash next to his bed. He then flips you on your back and captures your lips roughly. "These sheets are mine and they'll stay mine just like you will from now on. As long as I can help it at least. Sound good?"

"Okay Taehyung," you nod. "Yours."

"Good, now how does a bath sound?"

"Fantastic," you exhale and close your eyes.

"Taehyung, Taehyung wake up." You shake the man by the shoulders next to you with both hands. "Get up get up get up!"

"What's the emergency?" He rubs his tired eyes as you move to leap up from the bed. You have the sheets wrapped tight around your body.

"We have a shoot at the beach with the team in half an hour! Hurry up and put your clothes on, you have to drive me back to my house so I can change into proper clothing."

"Why don't you wear one of my shirts or something?" He yanks your wrist towards him until you're forced to loosen your grip on his sheets and are forced atop his chest.

"Seriously? Why don't we just tell them we slept together at that point? You're crazy Kim Taehyung."

"You're making it sound like we had a one night stand," he pouts for the first time and you chuckle at how cute he looks.

"Of course it's not that Tae, it's just we still work together. We can't have them knowing we have a thing this early."

"Can we at least tell Jungkook?"

"No!" You playfully slap his shoulder. "Stop being so obsessed with him. He's got a girlfriend. Now get up, we really need to go."

"Alright, but give me a kiss first." He puckers up his lips and you concede by pressing your lips to his. "Are you a morning sex person?" He asks.

"No, we need to leave." You hop out of the bed and race to his bathroom.

"Goddamn it," he curses by himself. "Day one of being your girlfriend and she's already leaving you high and dry."

Taehyung throws the covers off his naked body and walks to the bathroom to join you in the shower—nothing but a big, happy grin on his face.

a/n: oh my gosh guys, this took me a long time. But I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you think 💞☺

Masterlist

Taglist:

@faiyh @brieeoche @lovemeforeternity @daughterof-aphrodit @daughterof-aphrodit @jjkluver7 @mystaerytete @sparklingocean @main-bangtansmauyeondan @ahgasegotarmy116

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts au #bts imagines #fic:reflections #kookslastbutton

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notroosterbradshaw · 2 years ago

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Stay the Night

here’s some old-school Bucky in Wakanda smut. I didn’t think I’d publish Bucky stuff here, yet here we are. Hope you enjoy x

18+, smut, fluff. It's just you and Bucky in Wakanda while the team is away. He tends to his flock, you wish he tended to you.

“Today is the literal meaning of ‘hotter than Hades’,” you announced as you collapsed less than gracefully on a broken tree log as Bucky Barnes shot you a look over his shoulder, sweat protruding from every pore in his tanned, muscular form, a tendril of long, dark hair falling into his glassy blue eyes from the loose ponytail behind his head.

Jesus, a man should never look that damn good, you thought, fanning yourself with your shirt, the material sticking to your drenched skin. Thank god the heat hid your blush.

“Bored?” he asked, scooping up a hay bail and loosening it for the goats he tended to munch on.

“Radio silence,” you replied. “I kind of feel like I’m in the way of the locals when I can’t contact the team. I haven’t heard from Nat, Sam or Steve in a few days. I am pretty useless at times like this.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky said, pointing at the water bottle you had parked beside you. “You brought water. I assume that’s why you’re out here in the midday sun,” he teased as you tossed it to him and he caught it easily with his right hand, twisting the cap off and guzzling the cool refreshment.

Every movement was pure sex, you sighed quietly as his throat bobbed, water falling from the creases of his lips and down his chin. Life seemed much fairer before Bucky Barnes.

“Thanks, Buck,” you rolled your eyes as he finished the bottle easily, crushing it in his palm and laughing at you, walking back to hand it to you.

“No, no,” he nudged your boot with his. “Thank you,” he went back to stacking and distributing hay as you said a quiet goodbye and told him you’d see him later.

You hated when the team was away.

While you’d made some friends in Wakanda, you were still finding your way and mostly felt in the way of working alongside the Wakandan defence and communications teams. They used a lot more sophisticated tech than Stark had ever provided you and you’d never admit it out loud, the tech was somewhat confusing at times, thanks to its gross advancement over what you were used to.

You’d always be thankful for T’Challa and his family for taking you into the palace grounds, a necessity, T’Challa explained. It was beyond amazing and his lovely mother, Ramonda, fussed over you to ensure you were comfortable at all times. It was nice to feel so welcome, but so lonely without your family.

Steve, Nat and Sam had left days ago. Wanda and Vis were off the radar (lie, you knew they were having some kind of rendezvous in Europe and had no intentions of interrupting whatever was or had developed between them).

That left Bucky.

After he’d been woken from cryo, Shuri had run every test known to man on him to assist in the removal of the trigger words, he’d gratefully taken up residence away from the hustle and bustle of the wondrous city and hauled his ass out to the farmlands, simply requesting the peace, privacy and quiet. For the first time in over 100 years, he was able to be his own man without fear of retribution. Sure, the dark memories flickered occasionally, but the words would never hurt him again.

He enjoyed the serenity in the sounds of nature, with the exception of an iPod that Sam had gifted to get him up to speed on more modern music than the 1940’s bops Bucky was more accustomed to –

You sighed, hearing the knock at the door, interrupting the reverie of mindless TV. It was late, too late for guests. After dinner, you’d showered and retired to your PJ’s – your threadbare, well-worn Yankees shirt (your first souvenir of New York City when SHIELD moved you there years earlier regardless of your disinterest in baseball) and loose PJ pants. “Coming,” you replied, pushing yourself up to open the door, surprised to see Bucky on the other side - cleaned up, void of sweat and dust in lazy sweat pants and a white t-shirt. A casual Bucky Barnes. This new development was not helping your crush. Not in the slightest. “Hey. You lost?” you teased lightly.

He showed you a bottle of Glenfidditch and you chuckled a little, moving from the way to let him in. Closing the door behind him, you leaned back against it, a little confused about his visit as Bucky simply didn’t visit anyone aside from Steve or Shuri. You only visited Bucky occasionally to make sure he wasn’t segregating himself, but he did usually prefer his own company when Steve wasn’t around.

“Got ice?” he asked, going to the kitchenette for a couple of tumblers.

“I don’t actually – if I’m going to drink aged whiskey, I’ll be doing it properly.”

“Ooh,” Bucky cooed, a small grin growing on his lips. “A woman after my own heart.”

“Blame Steve – a few years back when we all moved to the Tower… fuck, just after Ultron maybe? Steve brought out a bottle of this stuff and I’ve been a convert ever since. He said you guys would destroy bottles together.”

“Well, he did. I would drink responsibly though I didn’t know at the time I could put them back as well as Steve could with the serum running through my veins,” he said, bringing the glasses to the coffee table, cracking the top and pouring you each a glass. “Are you gonna join me or hang out by the door?”

“Sorry,” your face flushed as you skittered over and sat at the other end of the couch. He handed you a glass and gave you gentle ‘cheers’ before you sat in silence for a while, enjoying the smooth amber liquid. “…Bucky, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I dunno – you seemed a bit forlorn today. Thought I’d try and be a friend,” he shrugged. “You’ve been pretty accommodating to me since we got here. I guess I could repay the favour even if you’re only checking in on me for Steve. And you’ve got air conditioning,” he tossed in the joke to try and lighten the mood.

“Steve didn’t ask me to keep tabs on you,” you admitted.

“Oh,” Bucky said, sipping his whiskey and easing back on the couch. “Do you like it out here?”

You chewed your lip, dropping your eyes to the glass. “I mean, it’s a hellova lot better than being shipped out to The Raft,” you admitted as he stifled a chuckle.

“True.”

“If I’m going to be on the run for associating with the team, it might as well be in one of the most securest places on the planet.”

“You chose well,” Bucky agreed.

“Would have been stupid for me not to take it. I owe T’Challa, and Steve, a lot.”

“They’re good men.”

“Absolutely.”

Silence overtook the room again though there was no discomfort with it.

“Thanks for havin’ a drink with me,” Bucky said as he polished off his glass. “It’s getting late,” he got to his feet.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Okay.”

“I don’t want to impose,” he said with a gentle shrug, collecting his tumbler.

“You’re not imposing. It’s nice to have the company, to be honest,” you confessed.

“'Nother glass then?”

“Definitely,” you said, hoping not to appear too eager. Bucky gave a small nod and poured again.

“I know I’m not much of a talker,” he told you as you sat and cradled your glass close to your chest.

“I just enjoy the company regardless of noise levels,” you shrugged. “It’s different when the team is here, but when they aren’t…”

“When they aren’t?” he pressed.

“I have too much time with my thoughts.”

He raised a glass. “I hear that.”

Your glass joined his. “Why are you in the farmlands then and not in the palace?”

He nodded slowly as you hoped you hadn’t overstepped the mark. Blame the first glass of booze – less than tipsy you would never ask such a question. “Just tryin’ to earn my keep – least I can do since T’Challa is harbouring an international war criminal, assassin, murderer – ”

You gave a gentle laugh. “He’s not harbouring you.”

“Protecting me then,” Bucky corrected himself.

“Maybe protecting you,” you admitted, agreeing.

You both continued a polite conversation, mostly about Steve and the team before you both started dozing at your respective ends of the couch. “I should really head out now,” Bucky said.

“Stay, it’s a million degrees out there.”

He gave you an incredulous look that told you he knew what you were saying, but staying was still a terrible idea. Suddenly overwhelmed, you realised it completely sounded like a blatant invite for sex. It wasn’t, you thought. Was it?

Trying telling your libido that.

“If you stay on your side of the bed, Bucky, and I stay on mine, we won’t have any issues,” you try to regain your composure.

“Are you completely sure?” he looked about as convinced as you thought you were.

“My God, it’s sleep,” you told him. “I would never deny you, of all people, Bucky, sleep.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

“It’s far too hot to stay out there overnight. Enjoy a night’s sleep in the air con,” you joked. “If you enjoy sleeping in comfy climates, hey, you might even move in here.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

You blinked a few times, not catching his tease. “Yeah, like here, the palace.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“Oh, you thought in here. With me,” you barked a laugh, getting off the couch and heading for the bed, Bucky following a safe distance away. You stifled your discomfort with snark, “Oh, darling,” you leaned forward to cup Bucky’s stubbly chin. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

“Oh darlin’, don’t fall for me so quickly. It’ll only end in heartbreak,” he mocked in return. You laughed incredulously, thinking to yourself, ‘too fuckin’ late, buddy’ and moving to your side of the King bed and pulling the pillows towards yourself.

“If you’re truly concerned, here. Build a pillow wall with me. Put that hay bailin’ practice to good use.”

He sighed with a gentle smile, he was thoroughly enjoying this cheeky banter you’d suddenly worked into your conversation and helped you build the Great Wall of pillows.

“Perfect,” you said, fixing the last pillow in place.

“That is an impressive pillow wall,” Bucky concluded, stifling a laugh. “Failsafe.”

“Make yourself comfy,” you told him, laying back as he pulled off his soft cotton t-shirt and folded it, placing it neatly on the bedside table next to him, a habit he’d picked up in military training in the 40s and never really lost it, no matter what control he was under, you imagined.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told you. “It is a lot nicer inside than out.”

“Told you,” you replied with a chuckle, raising a fist to him over the wall.

“What is that?” he chucked.

“My knuckles? You’ve never knocked ‘knuckles’ with someone? A fist bump?”

He laughed louder. “No, I’ve never fist-bumped.”

“Then hit my knuckles with yours,” you instructed as Bucky did as he was told. Still confused for a second, his hand met yours gently before opening and clutching your wrist in his warm, rough-skinned hand and bringing your open hand to his lips. The rules of the pillow wall were suddenly crumbling before you. Destroyed so easily.

“You need to behave,” you told him, suddenly very nervous.

“I’m finding it so hard. We’re here and I know it’s not just me that is feeling this, sugar,” he continued kissing to your wrist and moving towards your inner elbow as he got to his knees. Your body betrayed you as goose pimples shot up and down your spine and you found yourself sitting up opposite him. “All I wanna do is compromise this pillow wall.”

You could cut the tension in the cool room with a knife as your eyes burned into his. Chewing his lip, he made no secret of his intentions as he licked his mouth and walloped the pillow wall away.

Suddenly there was no divide and you were looking at each like they were your last meals. “Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly.

“If you don’t, I’m going to kiss you,” you retorted as he skimmed across the sheets to you and pulled your body flush to his. He sunk his fingers into your hair and pulled your face to his, leaving a small kiss on your waiting lips.

“Is that okay?” he asked, almost afraid.

“More,” you demanded as a reply. There was nothing forgiving about it – you were suddenly craving him – his mouth, his touch, his body, his scent and he was surrounding you in a way no other person had before.

He moved back a little. “One minute – I gotta explain…” he breathed gently. “This is kind of my first time being intimate in a long time. I know this,” he looked at his left shoulder, ashamed. “I know it’s not sexy. And if you don’t want to be with me because of it - ”

You grasped his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours and kissed him lightly. “Believe me when I say I do not care, Bucky. I know you do but I need you to know, this changes nothing for me.”

“I’ve imagined this so many times with you, pleasing you and now we’re here, I just…” his soft Brooklyn accent rumbled. “I just imagined it as me. The old me.”

Your head spun – he felt the same way? Jesus Christ, assassin school taught him surely how to fool you into believing he barely knew you existed.

“Well, I only know this, Bucky – I’m pretty crazy about you.”

His eyes flickered. Maybe it was emotion, you weren’t sure.

“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

This time, he blushed.

“So maybe, you should just lay back,” you said, helping guide him to do so, his head settling amongst the remains of the disastrous pillow wall and you kissed him, he moaned just loud enough to hear. “And we have a good time, okay?”

He nodded, nervously. “Okay.”

“Now, relax,” you said, unsure where your confidence was coming from but you knew he needed you to lead him and you were going to treat him right. He deserved this – you, and all of you. All for him.

You ungracefully tossed the sheets from the bed, they’d just be getting in the way and crawled towards Bucky’s feet, grabbing the loose elasticised ankles and pulling at them, the sweats he wore drawn from his slender hips, descending his powerful thighs and calves before you disregarded them all together, leaving him solely in boxer briefs. Calvin Klein, how so very rude.

And dear, if your mouth didn’t water at the surprise he poorly hid in them.

Kissing his ankle and working your lips up the inside of his legs, tickling behind his knee, he shuddered. He shuddered hard. “Fuck,” he muttered. You smiled against his skin, lips moving again, your hands massaging his powerful thighs. Stopping at his waist, you crept onto his lap and pulled away your shirt. Bucky sighed, his hand reaching out to touch you. You leaned closer to him as his arm skirted around you, pulling your body flush to his to kiss you, your tongue tracing his full lips as he enthusiastically opened his mouth for your tongues to meet. His hand scalded your skin as he groped at you lightly, cascaded your side and tangled into your hair, deepening the kiss as his hips started to move beneath your body, his cock needing the friction.

You paused and raised a finger to him. He raised a confused eyebrow as you scampered off him to lose your sweats, no panties underneath. You didn’t let him get a good, long look at you before you moved to rid him of his boxers, hard cock free and you gave him a few encouraging pumps, his eyes rolling back. “Sweet Jesus,” he begged for mercy. “Please.”

“Please?” you raised a teasing eyebrow and sat on your knees between his muscular thighs. He was asking you to go down on him. You’d never felt so willing before to please a man as you were for to do for Bucky.

“Please,” he tried again as you could see this man didn’t need to be teased, he just needed to be wanted. Adored. Loved.

“Okay. Okay, now you sit back, Barnes. And you let me take care of the rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he tucked his arm behind his head, licking his lips as you took him in your palms before an encouraging kiss to the head and taking him into your mouth. “Dear God,” he managed to say through groans. His hand found your hair again, pushing your hair from your face to see what he thought was the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen work over his body. “Baby, that is so good. So hot,” he encouraged, clutching roughly but not enough to hurt, just enough to spur you on. You continued your ministrations for a few minutes more before he guided you away from him, gasping. “Baby, stop. I’ll come.”

You blinked at him. “That’s okay,” you promised. “I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

He grinned at you. “I’m sure you can. But I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he admitted shyly.

“Oh,” you gave a gentle nod. “I thought I was doing something wrong.”

He shook his head, alarmed. “God, no. You were a little too good at what you were doing,” he reassured you. “Get up here,” he pulled you to his face to meet him for a lingering kiss. “You could kill a man with that mouth.”

“I doubt that,” you got suddenly shy, burying your blushing face in his neck as he guided your face back to his.

“Don’t get bashful now, sweetheart,” he gazed at you like you were about the best damn thing he’d ever seen. You didn’t know how or why, but the look turned you on more than any act prior to right then. You just wanted to make him happy, release him, and feel him come apart under your hands. “I have an admission to make, and fuck, I hope this doesn’t come across as shitty…” he said quietly.

“What’s that?” you asked, suddenly feeling very exposed regardless of you lack of clothing.

“Uhh… I don’t know, logistically, how I make this work without you on toppa me, baby. I’m sorry, I don’t want to crush you if something goes wrong,” he looked as though he wanted the bed to eat him whole.

And why, you don’t know. But his admission gave you the confidence you didn’t expect. “Is this you suggesting I ride you?” you gave a small giggle as he chewed his lip.

“Lil’ bit, yeah. I know that sounds so goddamn selfish – ”

“Giving me the power over you makes you selfish?”

“Well, it takes away a fair amount of effort,” he reasoned. “And you know, I wanna show you what I can do…” his voice trailed off, timidly.

And suddenly you understood. This wasn’t just about a missing limb – this was the pain and terror from all those years ago. The raw, never-ending trauma of Bucky’s initial testing, falling from the train in the Alps. Losing his arm seemed so minute in all of it. Years of physical and mental abuse, and psychological torment at the hands of HYDRA, of the Soviets, whoever was the highest bidder for The Winter Soldier.

This was touch, connection, feeling wanted and adored – oh, how needed to Bucky understand how much you wanted to be the person to help him.

You tutted him and inhaled, gently cupping his cheek, choosing compassion. “Relax, handsome, lay back and enjoy,” you instructed as he nodded slightly and wrapped his scorching hand around your ribs. It was such a simple act, but it turned you on so much. It felt possessive, wanted. “I want to make you feel so fucking good – will you let me?”

You don’t know why you asked, but you knew you needed to hear him tell you he wanted this too. “Yes,” he nodded shyly. “Hell yes.”

“Okay,” you leaned down to kiss him, reached between your bodies and in your warm hands, adjusted your body on his. Viewing Bucky as he felt you sheath your body around his was as good as it could ever get – his plumb lips drawn into his gleaming white teeth, his bright blue eyes hidden behind his long lashes. Giving him some time to adjust, just like you were to his size encouraged you as he lightly raised his hips in hopes for you to move. “You good?” you asked again.

“Better than, amazing,” he told you, gripping your hip and your body slowly started to move above him. “Jesus Christ,” he uttered, raising his eyes to look at you.

Taking his hand and linking your fingers as you relaxed and stopped trying to ensure his good time (it appeared ensured) and sinking into feeling so good yourself, you moved your hips more, craving Bucky deeper, hoping to find that elusive little spot to make you explode.

“Touch yourself?” he pleaded quietly. “Please, sugar?”

Appeasing him happily, he watched your free hand creep down your body and open yourself up to where your bodies met, your fingers putting on a show as you toyed with yourself just for his dark, lust-filled eyes. Your body tightened under the pressure and Bucky’s pleasured grunts and curses was certainly on the rise. His hand relinquished yours as he clutched onto your ass, forcing you rougher into him, his tempo speeding up and urging you to do the same from the friction his body caused yours.

“God, you feel so good. So wet, so warm,” he muttered, his breathing deepening as his hips haphazardly fired into you. “Are you close?” he asked desperately. You were, you so fucking were, you realised, his simple question bringing you even closer. You nodded as you pressed harder against your clit, desperate for your own release and of course, his.

He needs this, you reminded yourself. You needed this. “Fuck, yes,” you replied as he used his abs to sit up, suddenly so much deeper into you as you looked at each other face to face, chest to chest and Bucky kissed you. He kissed you with those beautiful lips and a tongue that knew exactly how you wanted to be kissed as he moaned into your mouth. He wrapped his arm around your waist and took a nipple into your mouth as you started to come – that was the move, the special way to push you over the edge. Realising this, Bucky grinned and looked at you, using those pearly whites to chew lightly and you were coming. Coming so hard that you felt like you might have seen stars as he let out a litany of curses and came hard too.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Bucky breathed, chest heaving as he rolled onto his back, taking your body down with him, keeping you wrapped in his embrace and softening inside you. Bucky Barnes liked to cuddle, you realised.

“Holy shit,” you managed to say as you tried to settle your breathing. “That was fantastic.”

“Really?” he asked bashfully. He looked you in the eye and begged you weren’t lying to him. You nodded and tenderly kissed him. “Good,” he gave a small, shy smile and suddenly appeared so boyish. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have the thank me,” you told him. “Trust me, I’m just glad you stayed.”

“Fuck, me too,” he laughed. “Me too.”

Hearing your phone beep, you shot up through the heaviness across your chest and halted you. Bucky’s body subdued you – the body heat he exhumed was hot and stifling. He groaned, pulling you back down to him.

“They’ll call back,” he muttered. “Sleep.”

“It’s the team,” you whispered back. He breathed heavily, reaching out for the phone for you reluctantly and putting it in your hands. Relief washed through you. The team, including Wanda and Vis, were returning to Wakanda imminently. “Did you sleep okay?”

Yawning, Bucky slightly freed you from his grasp. “You weren’t wrong about sleeping comfortably – I mean, I don’t deserve to, but it was the most relaxing sleep I’ve had in years.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Bucky. Truly.”

He soothingly kissed your naked shoulder. “Thank you for last night.”

“I just hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“So much,” he breathed against your skin, rolling you to your back and lightly pining your body under his. You loved the feel of his weight on your body. You would come to crave it. Addicted and all in less than 12 hours. You’d fallen so hard, so fast. “Did you?”

“Yes,” you couldn’t lie. Bucky’s body was made for a multitude of sins and loving on a woman? The top. He kissed each eyelid that fluttered closed under his touch, the tip of your nose, his mouth travelling through your throat to your décolletage. “Behave…” you teased, your fingers lacing into his long, dark, loose waves.

He laughed into your skin. “Okay,” he nudged your knees apart, his hips meeting yours. He felt as if he was flying – he’d never imagined the confidence he felt, that you’d given to him. Or how you could have destroyed it by rejecting him. The power you had over him was stifling. That was a hellova lot scarier than what was to eventually come.

“What did I say?”

“You told me to behave.”

“And what did you do?”

“The exact opposite,” he admitted. “I just can’t seem to keep my mitts offa you. You’ve opened the floodgates, sugar. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again.”

Your phone beeping incessantly now, you found yourself in a world where only you and Bucky ceased to exist. The rest of the world could wait another hour.

#make me regret posting this 😬#bucky with the good hair #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky angst #white wolf #notroosterbradshaw #reposting from another life #if this bombs I’m deleting it

1K notes · View notes

gasolinerainbowpuddles · 6 months ago

Text

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅𝙸. 𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, Feelings Turning Into Action™, fucked up family relationships and drama, abusive relationships, brief mention of abusive child/parent interaction, alcoholic parent, Joel being protective, Joel being an old man, dialogue on steroids, the messy journey of healing | WORD COUNT: 10.4k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: After a chaotic, tumultuous New Year's Eve, you start the New Year off with Joel by your side and make some much overdue resolutions.

The light is coming from the wrong direction.

The gentle glow of the hazy, hesitant sunrise creeps slowly through the blinds and sheer purple draperies, ghosting against the impending day. There’s an unfamiliar but welcome stillness to it all, but the subconscious recognition that you aren��t waking in your own bed stirs you. Your lids lift and flutter as your mind begins piecing together all the atmosphere and context of your current setting.

The cuffs of Joel’s flannel, bunched up in your grasp, beckon your nose closer just to breathe in the scent of him. When your eyes flutter again, the room is significantly brighter. The blink of an eye and hours gone by. You’re fully awake this time, though; no drifting again. The house is still a comforting quiet, but there’s the intimations of someone else already up and about. The crust in the corner of your eyes feels particularly sharp as you rub them. The floor is cool against the arch of your foot when you swing your legs from the warm bedding and finally start to face whatever awaits you.

You’d kissed Joel. He’d kissed you back.

And then you’d practically run off upstairs while he sat there in shock. Did he regret it? Did he think you regretted it? Do you regret it???

No. There’s no amount of mortification that could ever make you truly regret finally getting to know what his lips felt like against yours. Still, you can’t quite meet your reflection’s eye while washing your hands in the hallway bathroom after peeing. His pants feel soft and warm around you. You stare into the sink, finger dabbed with toothpaste acting as a brush, and give up looking for mouthwash after a minute or two. Nothing left but to go downstairs and be confronted with the aftermath of your impulsive, reckless advance last night.

Music drifts low from a speaker somewhere in the corner of the kitchen. A spice bottle is almost to his nose as he squints at the label. He huffs and glances off the other way and snatches something off the countertop. The swell of his bicep stretches the hem of the sleeve as he bends his arm towards his face. The slightest peek of his torso is revealed when his shirt lifts from the movement.

Joel Miller in all his scruffy morning glory. Pajama pants impressively wrinkled. T-shirt sporting several misshapen areas that droop and give from being pulled too many times. Hair mussed and tousled. Scruffy beard serving as a place for his hand to rub contemplative passes as he skims the label on the spice bottle, words and letters coming into focus with the help of his readers perched atop his curved, proud nose. His lips move in little rounded and bent shapes as he wordlessly reads through what you imagine is the ingredient list. He looks so warm and cozy and homey.

He’s breathtaking.

Your silent ogling is noticeable, apparently, because Joel notches his head in your direction in a swift jerk, eyes and mouth softening at the sight of you.

“Morning,” you offer up nervously.

He smiles, an affectionate, relieved wash over his features, and returns the greeting with more confidence. “Mornin’.”

“Uh, Happy Ne–” You stop yourself short of wishing him a happy new year when you remember you already did that several times last night and would rather not bring up your incredibly forward advance that went with it.

He grins easy like he knows your train of thought. “Hey, it’s—”

“No,” you interject. “Listen, I shouldn’t have—” You take several strides into the kitchen. You need to own up to your actions and take responsibility for making things weird. Had you made things weird? There was something shifting and new in the air, that was certain.

He holds up a hand to stop your spiel, but you drive the conversation forward.

“I’m really sorry about last night, and I shouldn’t have just done that,” you hastily apologize. “And if I crossed a line, I’m– I really wasn’t meaning to make— I just–”

“It was nice,” he contends with a casual shrug.

“Wait, what?”

You weren’t really sure what to expect, but it wasn’t that. A reminder that things need to remain professional, maybe. A gentle correction that you hadn’t asked permission before kissing him. But a declaration of acceptance? You hadn’t let yourself hope for that much.

“Yeah, you know, I haven’t had one of them in a while,” he explains. “A midnight kiss on New Year’s Eve,” he adds when you shake your head in confusion.

“So you’re… not upset with me?”

“The only thing that’ll upset me is if you don’t help me read the fuckin’ tiny writing on this thing.” He holds the spice bottle out for you to take.

“Um.” You hold it in your hands and read out the list of ingredients in the mix. You hand it back to him and fix your face from the dubious, hesitant hope it wants to broadcast.

“Thanks, Pluck,” he beams and gives your upper arm a quick rub before continuing whatever it was that you’d walked into.

Was that it? Was it really going to be that simple? No big conversation? No huge deal made about it? You aren’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, and you aren’t sure if it makes you feel better or worse.

“Y-Yeah, Goob. No problem.”

He sorts out some additional spices and sets them beside some pans. The oven is already on a low heat, and you smell something salty and sweet.

“You, uh, got anywhere you gotta be this mornin’, or ……?” he hedges.

Is he asking because he’s trying to be polite and doesn’t want to outright ask just how long you plan on invading his personal space? Is he asking because he wants you to stay but doesn’t want you to feel obligated to do so?

“No. Is that–Is that okay?”

“Perfect,” he chimes. “Need me a sous chef today.” The corner of his mouth twitches up like there’s some funny inside joke.

“What’re you making?” you ask, deciding to just take his lead and act like everything is normal.

It’s the least you can do for letting yourself get out of line last night. You wish he could just understand the sense of calm and safety that overrode your brain when you woke up with his arms around you. You wish you could explain how after months and months of feeling seen by him, you’d finally given into wanting to be felt by him, too.

“Classic New Year’s Day dish. Ham, cornbread, and black eyed peas.”

“Never had it,” you admit with a shrug.

He gives a theatrically shocked look, wide palm clutched across his chest, with an exaggerated gasp to pull it all together. You giggle and give him a small shove with your elbow.

“You’re acting like everybody should’ve heard about it – like it’s some huge deal.”

“‘Round here it is,” he contends. “Been makin’ this every New Year’s since, well, as long as I can remember. Used to have it as a kid, and then I just sorta kept it up when I got old enough, I guess. Now I still make it even though it’s just me around to eat it.”

“Oh.” Even though he hadn’t said it in any way to suggest it, you can’t help but feel like you’re intruding on some private tradition meant for those nearest and dearest to him, which you most decidedly are not.

“What’d’ya mean ‘oh’?” he snorts.

“Just sounds… I dunno, sounds special, I guess. Sounds nice.”

“It is nice,” he agrees. “And, yeah, pretty special, too.”

You force yourself to meet his eye again, and the warm, welcoming brightness there speaks volumes.

You belong in this space. You’ve earned yourself a seat at the table for something like this. I want to share this with you, too.

“So you gonna learn the ropes and join the ranks?”

“Such a fearless captain at the helm, how could I refuse?” you jibe.

He throws you a flimsy salute and stations you to prepare the cornbread. Your body feels electric every time his shoulder bumps into yours side by side at the counter as he explains the “absolutes” and the “must nots” of the meal.

He explains how you soak the beans the night before so they cook evenly and timely, how it's imperative to use yellow cornmeal for the cornbread, how a pinch of sugar brings out the flavor and compliments the ham.

“You gonna eat greens if I make ‘em?” he asks over his shoulder, digging through the fridge for various ingredients.

Thankfully your brain autocorrects I’ll take anything you want to give me, Joel into “I’ll give them a try, sure.”

The morning passes languid and cozy as you watch him come to life, animated and bright over something clearly sentimental and meaningful to him. Part of you knows that you’re involved simply because you happened to be here, but another, smaller part of you likes to imagine that he would’ve liked to have had you here and a part of it all regardless.

Being this close to him, all soft and cozy in the kitchen as you share in a little feel-good bubble, brings the simmering want that your kiss last night sowed. It’s teething and clawing in your belly, this need for more more more of him heightened in every conceivable way. Any minor and innocuous movement or glance threads a burning wire throughout every bit of you, all alight and inciting as though it was being done just to pull you further into the clutches of him.

Your body feels hot and itchy, the urge to just throw caution to the wind and kiss him again - just to see what would happen - inches closer and closer to drowning out all the sensible thoughts in your head. You’d expected a more stilted, awkward atmosphere this morning and had waited for it, but it never came.

The better than expected reception has emboldened you in a way that you don’t recognize. The only thing keeping you from throwing yourself at him again is the notion that he deserved – you both deserved – to know that you weren’t just being reactionary from last night’s trainwreck and seeking out something to comfort yourself as a result.

You get the first major distraction from your inner thoughts when Joel’s phone lights up with a call. A silly little photo of him and Sarah together, her name bright across the top of the screen. It’s a video call. His eyes flit to yours, something apologetic mixed with something imploring. You aren’t sure if he wants you to be in the background of the call or not, but you aren’t up for all the questions that would garner.

“I just remembered I should probably charge my phone from last night,” you point out. It’s not untrue. You went to bed with it unplugged and didn’t think too much of it with everything else swirling around your mind at the time.

He nods and tells you there’s a mix of chargers on the desk in your room before picking his phone up just as you make your way out of the kitchen. It doesn’t take much searching to find a charger that works with your device, and you quietly descend the stairs to avoid alerting Sarah to your presence. You listen to the light, affectionate lilt in Joel’s voice as he talks with her.

You find the closest vacant outlet and plug in your phone. It takes a few moments before it comes to life again. There’d been no notifications on your old phone, which hadn’t died because old bricks like them seemed to survive just about anything, but you still worried you’d missed something on your work phone. No missed calls or texts from your dad, which is a relief, but there are a few from Kenzie along with dozens of texts.

A quick scan through the messages reveals numerous apologies and pleas for you to let her know you made it somewhere safely. There are a few notable messages, namely i wasn’t thinking straight as well as i fucked up so bad pls im sorry i just want to know if ur ok.

You feel guilty for worrying her, which annoys you for some reason, but it’s the overwhelming feeling of self-disgust for leaving her by herself last night that takes center stage. You know deep down you should be making sure she’s okay, too – that nothing horrific happened after you abandoned her, drunk and emotional with two creeps in an already unpredictable environment.

You lock the screen and push the phone aside on the table to finish charging. A hearty chuckle from Joel draws your attention back to the kitchen where you stealthily creep against the doorframe to listen closer. He’s holding the phone at an unnatural angle above his face, fat fingertip poking and jabbing at the screen as Sarah mocks him for not knowing how to use technology.

“You sure got lots of energy for somebody who was so drunk last night she didn’t even text me that she got home okay,” he chides half-heartedly.

“Ohhhh my god, dad, I’m sorry,” she groans almost petulantly. “I was with Ben – you know that. I was perfectly safe, I swear.”

“Uh huh. Weren’t you just sayin’ how y’all were both taking turns throwin’ up earlier?” he snickers.

“It wasn’t that much,” she scoffs. “Like, two times each max.”

“Yeah, enjoy that while ya can, kiddo, because once you hit about thirty those hangovers start lastin’ longer and hittin’ harder.”

“Yeah, well, right now I’m young and invincible,” she jokes. “And hungry.”

“You mean you ain’t had any time to cook up some peas and ham in between all the puking?” he snorts. “How’re you gonna usher in good luck and prosperity in the coming year?”

“Ugh, that actually sounds so good right now,” she huffs. “Me and Ben should try to find somewhere that makes it so we can have it today.”

Joel rambles about how next year they should just come stay with him so he can play chauffeur and chef for them. You’re hyper-aware of how neutral and nonjudgmental the conversation is. She’d called him and evidently spoken freely about how she’d had too much to drink, hadn’t been entirely responsible during her night out, and had been sick as a result of her revelry for a good part of the morning.

Joel hadn’t given her a lecture about being hungover and overindulging and hadn’t admonished her for not texting when he’d told her to. It was just an uncomplicated, warm conversation about their lives and happening – a simple exchange between two people who simply cared about each other.

You wish you could see Calum.

“Alright, tell Ben I said hi and all that.”

“I will, dad. Love you.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you. Bye.”

He’s smiling warmly at the screen when the call disconnects. His expression holds so much tenderness and warmth it makes your insides feel syrupy. He rests his phone on the counter without locking it and continues staring fondly. When you crane your neck to see what’s holding his attention, a little gasp gets caught in your throat. His head snaps your direction, fingers quickly turning the phone over and hitting the lock button.

Your eyes meet, and you swear you must’ve imagined it. Surely he hadn’t taken one of those pictures Kenzie sent of you yesterday and made it his wallpaper. His bugged eyes and mouth practically agog suggest otherwise.

“Phone charger?” he chokes out while regaining some composure.

“Huh?”

“Found a phone charger?” he repeats, fumbling forward with the conversation and glossing over the fact that he almost definitely has you set as his phone background.

“Um, yeah. Yes. Charging it now.” You nod and clamp your teeth together to hold down the nervous giggle threatening to bubble up.

“Good. That’s good.”

His cheeks are flushed a delightful shade of pink as he runs a hand along the nape of his neck, eyes zipping around for a diversion. “Your, uh, friend doin’ alright? She text you that she got home okay?”

Classic Southern gentleman. Chivalry isn’t dead, apparently, but you’d wish in Joel’s case at least that it’d take a long nap. He never would’ve left anyone, especially a young woman, in a situation like that. If he knew the truth about how you’d deserted her and threw her to the wolves, he’d probably not be all warm and fuzzy about sharing sentimental family traditions with you and letting you spend the night in his house.

“She’s fine,” you mumble, now also avoiding his eye and looking around for something to occupy your gaze.

“You, uh, you never said what happened last night other than some sorta fight between the two of ya….”

“Just dumb stuff,” you say quickly – dismissively. “It’s fine.”

He bobs his head, slow and understanding despite the fact that you both know you’re lying. “Okay.”

“So anyway—”

You rock on the balls of your feet and gesture broadly to the stovetop. He takes the hint and gets back to putting the meal together. Things return to a normal cadence, and he strikes up conversation again as you plate the dish into pale blue bowls that somehow are so distinctly Joel that it makes your heart ache for something you don’t understand.

“Any resolutions?” he asks when you finally sit down together in front of the steaming food.

You chew a tender piece of ham and work it over for a moment in thought. “Mmmmm, this is delicious,” you praise. “And, uh, I dunno. Always seems like I’m jinxing something if I try to think that far ahead. High expectations means big disappointments, you know?”

Being candid with him felt so dangerously freeing. Even sharing that small bit of truth had you hungering to let everything out in all its chaotic, thorny veracity.

“I do,” he sympathizes. His forehead scrunches and relaxes. “Ya know, sometimes when things feel like that, it can be less intimidating to just pick somethin’ real small.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs and works through a heaping spoonful before answering. “Just mean that you can start with somethin’ that ain’t high stakes. Even like watching more movies, like you said a coupla weeks ago. Just somethin’ you wanna do more of, somethin’ to make you happier.”

You hide a smile behind a big bite. His preoccupation with you getting to watch and enjoy more movies – all because you’d mentioned it almost offhandedly some weeks ago – makes your tummy feel fluttery.

“That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” you concede. “I think that’s a really good one.”

“So there ya go: resolution sorted.” He has that big, lopsided grin that makes you want to devour him.

“And what about you? What’s your resolution?”

He thinks it over, takes it earnestly into consideration, and decides on something you think wouldn’t hurt for you to take up, too.

“Taking bigger chances, maybe? Maybe not like crazy leaps of faith or somethin’, but just– I dunno, not letting me talk myself outta somethin’ every time. Maybe just not thinkin’ too hard on things every single time, learning to lean into instincts or whatever a little bit more.”

“Trusting your gut,” you summarize.

“Yeah, trustin’ my instincts,” he reaffirms.

The meal and the company have left you feeling full and comforted, and the two of you make quick work of cleaning up the kitchen. It’s so calming listening to Joel hum a song you don’t recognize, feeling like somehow you know it intimately after hearing him sing it. Midday rolls around, and it’s the first point where the bubble bursts.

“You never said anything about a ride home,” he starts.

“Oh. I guess I didn’t.”

The sentiment that you’ve overstayed your welcome leaves you embarrassed.

“I mean you’re more’n welcome to stay as long as ya want. Just don’t want you stickin’ around because you feel sorry for me bein’ by myself or somethin’. Don’t wanna hold you hostage.”

“Joel,” you huff, entirely incredulous that he could ever think you wanted anything other than to be right next to him, wherever that happened to be. “This is the best New Year’s I’ve had since… well, this is the best New Year’s I’ve ever had, actually.”

Joel makes a face, and you’re sure he’s wondering how on earth that could be true when you had such a terrible night last night with Kenzie. “Kinda hard to believe that,” he chortles. “Bar must be so low it’s in hell for that to be true.”

Just as he often did, Joel ran straight into the point without knowing just how right he was.

The burgundy sedan parked outside your house isn’t one you’ve seen before, and it’s certainly seen better days. You don’t even bother lying to Joel about the fact that you don’t recognize it despite it being parked clearly in front of the curb of your house.

“M’comin’ with ya” is all you get before he’s opening your car door and herding you to the front of the house like a personal bodyguard. Not up for discussion, and certainly not going to be disputed. It doesn’t feel domineering or demanding, though. It gives a sense of calm and protection. Your dad’s compact SUV is parked in the driveway as usual.

Joel inspects the lock and seems satisfied that there’s no sign of forced entry or damage to it. You tense as he turns the knob and heads inside first. You tail him like a second shadow, eyes darting furiously around for any indication of something amiss. The foyer has several shattered picture frames on one side, and the doorframe into the living room is missing a chunk out of it at about shoulder height. You set your handful of items on the foyer table with a shaky hand as you strain your ears to listen.

“You stay behind me, you understand?” is Joel’s firm demand, maybe the first one you’ve ever really heard from him with such a tense tone. You nod and let him take the lead again.

“Dad?” you call out. Joel whips around and pins you with a look that says you probably shouldn’t be shouting out your location into a house that’s clearly had some sort of disturbance recently. You duck your head down and mumble an apology.

How could you explain that the state of the house isn’t out of the norm? How could you explain to Joel that you wouldn’t have looked twice at the damaged areas if you’d come home like usual? The only aspect of it that was unexpected was the worn down sedan parked outside.

A soft sound travels down the adjoining hallway where your room is located, and your heart sinks. Had your dad gotten drunk and decided to ransack your room for an impromptu inspection? Was he going to find the envelopes of money you’d hidden around that end of the house in various vents? How fast could you get a handle on the interaction before Joel put his foot down and demanded you tell him everything? Could you control the situation enough that your dad and Joel wouldn’t get into a physical altercation?

Without thinking, you rush towards the sound and get an immediate hiss of disapproval from Joel who picks up his strides to cut you off right in front of your bedroom door. A louder sound comes from somewhere you can’t see, and you’re almost knocked on your ass with how quickly Joel shoves you behind him, acting like a shield. There’s some shuffling – whoever it was in your room now being alerted to you and Joel’s presence in the hallway - but you can’t see past the width of Joel’s back, and his arms are outstretched behind him to keep you bracketed and guarded.

“Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doin’ here?” he snarls.

“Jesus christ, man! What the fuck! Who the fuck are you?” a man’s voice snaps back, a trill of panic laced in the challenge.

“You got ten seconds to get the fuck outta this house before I–”

Joel doesn’t have a chance to finish his threat as you launch out from behind him and stagger towards the stranger’s voice — except it’s not a stranger at all.

“Calum!” you gasp when your eyes land on him, confirming that it really is him even under all the bumps and fresh bruising and dried split lip.

You’re running and crashing into him with loose limbs before you can even process the situation fully. Hot trails stream down your cheeks as you grab at him and grip him tight so he can’t get away – not that he’s trying. Your chest fractures into a tiny million pieces when he lets out a soft exhale that’s one breath away from weeping as he grabs you up into his arms and holds on for dear life.

You’re a blubbering mess, but Calum isn’t far behind, sniffling and warbling your name as he holds you closer and sways you both on the spot in a meager attempt at self-soothing.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry he keeps saying over and over.

Your strangled whispers of “it’s not your fault” and “it’s okay” fall on deaf ears.

“This your brother Calum?” Joel interrupts. His voice has a tense edge to it, like he’s still not at ease with the situation.

You break away from Calum and nod. “This is my brother Calum,” you confirm.

He eyes him with patent suspicion but doesn’t speak on it. You step closer to Joel, who surprises you by angling his body slightly in front of yours and directly addressing Calum.

“You make a habit of going through her shit?” he demands in a harsh voice you’ve never heard from him until this moment.

“Joel!” you snap. “He can be in my room. Stop it.”

You and Calum exchange a loaded glance and drop it quickly. You know he can sense that Joel isn’t abreast of all the nitty gritty details of your life. Joel cocks his head sideways and back to meet your eye like he’s sizing up whatever silent, weird undercurrent he’s clearly not privy to.

“There’s a car you don’t recognize parked in front of your house and then we come inside to find shit banged up and broken. Then there’s sounds from your fucking bedroom? After you called out and nobody answered? He’s lucky I don’t fuckin’ carry because plenty of people woulda assumed it was a fuckin’ intruder and shot his ass,” he gripes.

It’s so unlike Joel to be so tightly wound, and it’s hard to pin exactly why he’s reacting so severely.

“Hey, man, I didn’t mean to scare anybody,” Calum offers. “I’m sure that it was kinda crazy to walk in on the house like that. I’m sorry.”

Joel is still tense, the lack of being clued in on the unspoken situation clearly causing him further agitation. “You got any explanation for why you look fucked up?” he demands.

“Joel!” you hiss. “Don’t fucking talk to him like that!”

You round on him now, placing yourself between the two of them, and square up your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. I get why he’s–” You’re sure Calum is ready to stick up for Joel, but you’re not having it. Joel has no right to come into your house and demand anything from Calum.

“He doesn’t get to talk to you like that,” you say plainly.

Joel’s outstretched hands beckon you closer, a gesture of apology and placation. “Can I talk to you in private in the hallway for a minute?”

Calum gives you a terse nod, and so you agree.

“Somethin’ weird is going on here,” he starts in a low voice once he makes sure Calum’s out of earshot. “I don’t know what it is or if you know what it is, but I don’t feel comfortable leavin’ you here alone with him.”

In a moment of clarity, you’re afforded the realization that Joel is acting so unkind and sharp because he’s afraid. Not of Calum and not of the mysterious stranger he’d been up until he’d confronted him in your bedroom. No, he’d been afraid that something or someone could’ve been lying in wait to harm you. Leftover frustration at the feelings of adrenaline and fear that you could’ve been in a potentially unsafe situation by yourself if he hadn’t insisted on accompanying you inside. A threat to your well-being that ultimately ended up okay but still left him with an electric energy to keep you out of harm’s way.

You soften and take his hands in yours. “Joel, I trust Calum with my life. He’s safe. I promise you, he’s okay.”

Joel swallows hard and slides his jaw back and forth in a moment of calculation. “Would you tell me if he wasn’t?” he wonders. Your head inches back in surprise at the question, but he’s talking again before you can even answer. “You would tell me? If you needed to get out of here? Because you know if you said the word, sweetheart, we’d be outta here no questions asked. You’d come to mine, and we’d figure it out from there. You’d tell me if that’s what you needed, right?”

His hands slide above your hips on either side of your body, a gentle squeeze pressed into the flesh there. Something in his pleading eyes and open, earnest face that tell you he’s not just talking about right here and right now. He’s begging for you to tell him that you’d come to him if you needed somewhere to go, someone to talk to.

“I know more than ever that you’d show up for me, Joel. Last night you came to get me without a second thought. Trust me, I know I — I know that I have you.”

“You do,” he repeats firmly. “You have me.”

You’re locked into each other much in the same way you were on the couch last night. His lips part ever so slightly, and you don’t need the fireworks bursting into the night air to feel that same fiery explosiveness between you. You tilt your head back in an invitation. Kiss me.

“I can, um, I can go if that would….” Calum’s head is peeking out of your doorframe, eyes darting curiously to where Joel’s hands rests on your waist.

“Let’s just take this outside,” you announce abruptly, turning on your heel and making for the front door. Calum follows in step with Joel stepping in sync behind him. You know Calum doesn’t have anything he needs to grab on the way out. There’s nothing for him here anymore. You grab your things from the front table and hop down the porch steps.

“Ride around the block and talk?” Calum surmises from your silent thoughts.

“Yeah. Just give me a minute, okay?”

He nods and shoots Joel a wave before heading to his sedan. You turn to find Joel still watching him with a probing stare.

“Hey,” you gently prod him.

His gaze settles down to you and softens. He’s still worried. You can see it in every etch and downturned corner of his mouth.

“He just ain’t gonna explain anything about why the fuck the house looks like that? Who the fuck was he throwin’ hands with? Your fuckin’ dad?”

He sounds almost incredulous, as if the idea of Calum and your dad beating on each other was outlandish rather than the normal fare that it actually was.

“Probably,” you answer plainly. Your mind is racing too fast to come up with something, so you opt for the most simple version of the truth.

Joel’s brow pinches together with a whole new expression of concern. Why doesn’t that upset you? Why does that sound like it’s not a surprise to you in the slightest? Why don’t you seem fazed by any of this?

“Listen, I’m going to go for a drive with him so we can talk—”

“In that piece of shit car?” he balks.

“Joel,” you warn. “I’m going with him. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

His hands splay wide across his hips, one knee jutted out while he thinks it over. He huffs but eventually appears to come to the conclusion that you’re getting in that car with or without his approval.

“I want you to check in. Not a text, okay? Call me,” he urges. “Please,” he adds softly.

“I promise. I won’t leave you hanging, okay? I’m going to call you first thing.”

“That thing even have heat?” he wonders aloud, almost to himself. “You gonna be warm enough?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer and instead peels off his outer flannel. He helps you work your arms through the sleeves and straightens it up on you. He brings you into a tight hug and rests his mouth just beside your ear.

“You tell me if you need anything. Anything. I’ve got you.”

You shiver when his lips graze your earlobe as he pulls away. He watches you get into your brother’s car, sparing an inquisitive look at your house just as you round the corner and lose sight of him in your rearview mirror.

The drive to a nearby park is quiet and serene. It feels unreal and leaves you almost giddy just to be in close proximity with your little brother again. He parks and cuts the engine. He turns to face you, and for a moment you just smile back and forth. A rarity to be in each other’s company without the threat of imminent harm closing in on all sides.

You break the silence first.

“What happened with dad?”

He scoffs and flicks the steering wheel. “Came to talk to him. A real conversation - or at least that was the goal. Figured if I did it on New Year’s it wouldn’t be so bizarre. New beginnings and setting intentions and all that.”

“I can’t believe he even let you in.”

“He didn’t. I still had a key. Dumbass hadn’t changed the locks. Probably thought I’d be too afraid to ever step foot in the house again, so no need to change them.”

You swallow hard thinking back to that fateful day Calum had left. He’d have every reason to be afraid of crossing the threshold of that front door ever again. You straighten up and dismiss the memories for now.

“So, you waited up for him? Or …. I mean, what happened?”

He smirks, but it lacks any trace of amusement. “Well, he was already pretty hammered when he got in. Saw me waiting in the living room and accused me of coming to ‘kill him like the coward I always was.’ Told him I’d come to talk with him and see if those bridges were really burnt up, you know? I think he got kinda smug thinkin’ I meant I wanted to make sure I hadn’t burned any bridges because I wanted to come back, so he let me stay and say my piece.”

He shakes his head and laughs as if recalling the memory of it was too absurd to be real. “ Once he realized I was basically letting him know I had no intention of speaking to him ever again, he got pretty pissed. That’s when we started scuffling. I tried to hold back so it wouldn’t escalate, but he just kept going harder. You know how he gets.”

Your lips press together in a tight line. You knew very well how your father got.

“Anyway, I got him off me and told him I was leaving. Didn’t need him calling the cops or something. He was already bent over the kitchen table with a bottle of something when I went out the back. I hung around until he blacked out because I could tell he was going to, you know? Didn’t know where you were and wanted to wait up for you. Wanted to see you and make sure you were okay.”

“That unfortunately sounds about right, I guess,” you sigh. “ Um, thank you for sticking around to see me. I’ve– It’s been a little bit. How’ve you been? I’ve been worried about you.”

“Been doing okay,” he offers up noncommittally with a lazy shrug. “Don’t wanna jinx it by saying it’s been going good, you know?” he exhales in a laugh.

“But you are? Doing good?” you press.

“Yeah. I am.”

He picks at his hands like he’s hesitant or unsure of what to say and where to start. You give him the space and time he needs.

“I stay and work at a halfway house sorta place. They agreed to let me board there even though I’m not on anything. No drug habit or whatever to overcome, but they still allow me to board there. Guess they took pity on me and needed some extra help anyway. So. Yeah. Got a safe place to lay my head at night. Get two free therapy appointments a week there. My counselor specializes in sobriety and recovery, of course, but he’s still been a big help with all… my stuff.”

“Wow,” you breathe. Your chest feels like it could burst hearing how well he’s doing and how secure he sounds. “That’s so amazing!”

He snorts and waves off your praise. “Yeah, wasn’t all that impressive when I first got out there. Bouncing from shelter to shelter. It’s where I met Jaz, though. She’s the one who got me linked up with the sober house. Wouldn’t be doing as good if it weren’t for her.”

“Jaz?”

He gets noticeably antsy at the way you clocked his attachment to this Jaz person. “Yeah, Jaz. Or Jazzy. Jasmine.” He says her name so delicately, like if he spoke a syllable too harshly the name would crumble altogether on his tongue. There’s a soft reverence there, and you want to know all about whoever it is that has your brother so clearly happy.

“So you still get to see her then?”

“I guess you could say that.” His shy grin stretches until the glint of his teeth is visible, his palpable joy unable to be contained. “Only about every day.” He doesn’t bother holding back now, his whole face beaming with a bright smile.

“So are you….”

“Yeah. Girlfriend territory, definitely. I mean, we haven’t sat down and had the conversation or anything official, but… I mean, if having Thanksgiving with her folks isn’t official then I don’t really know what is.”

You stiffen slightly with a twinge of hurt at the mention of him spending Thanksgiving with a new family. A normal family. One that didn’t include you.

Realizing the impact of his choice of phrasing, he quickly attempts to correct himself. “I shouldn’t have said it all casual like that. I’m sorry.”

A watery smile plays on your mouth. You tell him that it’s okay. That you know he didn’t mean anything by it. That you thought about him on Thanksgiving Day, too, and imagined that he was somewhere with a group of people who were warm and kind and welcoming. How happy you were to know just how right you’d been in your wishful hoping for him. That you don’t begrudge him for doing so well all these months apart.

He in turn tells you that he thought about you often. About how he’d told Jaz’s parents all about you already. That her mom was a Community Outreach Coordinator who, along with Jaz’s Nonprofit Organization Lawyer father, had given her the passion for helping others and offering the gift of her empathetic heart.

Calum went on to share that Jaz and her parents knew all about his upbringing and what had landed him in a shelter on his own so young in the first place. How they’d taken it in stride and applauded his steps to bettering his situation. How they’d said how proud he should be of himself and how proud they were of him.

His own eyes shimmer now with fat lines of wet threatening to spill over. He sniffs loudly and clears his throat. You imagine it’s probably the first time in his life a parent, even if it was someone else’s, told him they were proud of him.

“I came back because… well, I wanted to see you, but also because my counselor had said I should give myself ‘the gift of closure.’ Coming back to talk to dad and make sure that deciding to go no contact was the right thing. Because I was starting to doubt myself, you know? Even with all the good things happening with him out of the picture, there was still that little thought of what if. And thinking like you and him were a package deal or something since you still live at home. My counselor said that wasn’t true, you know? And after all that went down this morning, it was the push I needed to cut ties with dad completely.”

“I understand.” You look out into the clouded sky, a visual white noise to let your coherent thoughts through. “There’s no path forward there. Just a dead end.”

“Yeah…. I always sort of knew it, in a way, but I think I needed to come here to leave myself with no doubts. And – just let me finish saying this, okay? – I owe you an apology. I should’ve reached out. I didn’t have your number when I left because my phone died and got cut off, but I still could’ve— I dunno, I could’ve called the grocery store or something. Reached you that way. I was just so into my own shit and getting my head clear that I just left you behind, and I didn’t even mean to. I didn’t realize it had even happened, and that’s what makes me feel so fucking bad about it all. I didn’t realize how long it’d been since we last spoke, and it’s not okay. I got so lost in my own process to deal with all this shit that I just left you here even though I know exactly the sort of shithole it is.”

“I don’t blame you for getting out and not looking back.”

“I know that. You were always too nice for your own good, I think.”

You share a small laugh at the truth of it. The laugh runs short when he offers a place for you to come with him.

“Just… up and leave? Calum, I-I can’t do that.”

“Dad’s not stable. You know he’s not fucking stable,” he rebuts. “It’s only a matter of time before he does something serious. Not just a broken door or a slap across your face. He’s dangerous, and he just gets worse the longer time goes on.” You can hear the tinge of fear in his voice.

“I know,” you concede. “I’m-I’m working on it, okay? I’ve got a real job now, and I’ve been able to put aside more money than ever. I’ve got myself into a good path to getting out, but I want to do it on my own terms.”

“And do those terms include Joel?” he pries with a smile you can hear in his voice without even needing to look.

“Maybe.” You bite back a grin and shrug.

“So, what? I tell you about Jazzy, but I don’t get to hear about him? Fuckin’ guard dog of a boyfriend. Thought he was gonna beat my ass for a second there,” he huffs in a laugh.

Boyfriend. The sound of it makes something warm and syrupy drip down your spine. As much as you’d love to claim him as such, you tell Calum it’s not quite that straightforward. You don’t downplay your feelings for Joel when Calum asks you about it directly. He’s delighted at all the thoughtful gifts you received for Christmas. You tell him all the small things Joel does that make you feel supported and set up to succeed and seen. You tell him how you don’t know what to do with all of it sometimes. How you feel overwhelmed with the goodness of it all at times.

“I know. It’s such a weird feeling, isn’t it?” he commiserates.

“What feeling?”

“Of somebody taking care of you. Wanting to. Not expecting anything in return. It’s a mindfuck.”

You both burst into a fit of laughter, something so freeing and weightless about the candor and being so deeply, intimately understood passing between the two of you.

“You know, Joel seems like a good guy,” he notes after a beat of quiet. “I think you should go after it – whatever it is to you. Really. Just– Just chase happiness, you know? Because you deserve it. You deserve to have that.”

You reach over and squeeze his arm, shooting him a soft look of appreciation. “It means a lot to know you get a good feeling from him, even if he probably was about to rock your shit at the house.”

He chuckles again and tucks his chin down in reflection. “I do. But I trust you, too. Your judgment. And, if you feel safe with him, then he’s my new favorite person.”

Your next exhale feels like you’re breathing out all the tension and last bits of apprehension about diving head first into Joel.

“Plus he’s just so handsome,” Calum gushes theatrically.

You playfully shove him but don’t argue because it’s the truth. But just as good things do, it has to come to an end eventually. Calum apologizes for having to leave so he makes it back by curfew. You aren’t ready to go back home just yet.

“Drive me to Joel’s?”

“Like I didn’t figure that’s where you wanted to go,” he snorts. “God knows you don’t wanna go back to dad.”

His engine sounds pitiful as it cranks to life, but you’re quickly headed back into the neighborhood. He pulls to a stop outside Joel’s house but motions for you to wait before getting out.

“Hey, promise me you’ll go to him if dad does anything.”

“Calum, I can’t just—”

“No. Promise me.”

You sigh and give in. “Okay. Fine. I promise if anything happens, I’ll go to Joel.”

That placates him, apparently. He leaves the car running while he walks you to the door. You see him grin from the corner of your eye when the front door swings open to reveal a relieved looking Joel who appears appropriately sheepish and apologetic about their previous interaction.

“Sorry about that. Earlier, I mean. Just got a little high strung there for a minute. Hope you don’t take it too personal,” Joel says with a sort of tail between the legs kind of tone.

“Not at all. Consider it history, Joel,” Calum supplies brightly. “Actually pretty glad there’s somebody out here looking after my sister like that.”

They shake hands and put the awkward first meeting behind them. You hug Calum as tight as you can and triple check that he has your number before seeing him off. Joel shuts the door softly behind you both just as Calum rounds the end of the street.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t text or call before coming over.”

“You can come over whenever you want. Open invitation. You should know that by now, sweetheart.”

A loud sound from the TV draws your attention, and Joel skirts around the couch for the remote to mute it. You follow closely and ogle the way his shirt stretches the span of his back with each movement. You hear Calum’s voice echo in your head.

Chase happiness. Chase happiness. Chase happiness.

You can’t stop thinking about kissing Joel. He’d kissed you back last night, hadn’t he? Was it just reflexive? You’d both just woken up. Maybe he was just so shocked by it that he didn’t have time to react in a way that was aligned with his actual feelings? Had it meant anything to him? But then you could’ve sworn he wanted to kiss you again just a few hours ago in the hallway of your house.

“Found it.” He switches the volume off and sets the remote back down on the table before plopping down onto the couch and patting the spot next to him. You sink slowly into the cushion beside him and work your flannel – Joel’s flannel – off you.

“Thanks for letting me borrow this.”

“You can keep it on if you need to.” He almost sounds like he wishes you’d keep it.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“So, did he… what was goin’ on with–”

“Can I ask you something first?” you interject.

Joel sits up straighter and angles himself towards you. “Yeah, of course.”

“Are you– Did you think anything after… when I … last night when those fireworks woke us up?” you gulp, chickening out on asking a straightforward question.

He’s quiet in thought for a few beats and reaches out gently for your hand, which you readily slide into his warm palm.

“You really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinkin’ about how guilty I felt to just take from you like that,” he admits.

“What?” you gasp. “ You didn’t take—”

“You’d just been in a fight with your friend – obviously had a bad night. Needed somewhere to crash. Probably weren’t in the best of mind, and that still wasn’t enough to keep me from kissin’ you back.”

You sit in a stunned silence and absorb this alternate version of events that hadn’t even occurred to you. It made sense from his perspective, you suppose. You’re glad you didn’t tell him about Logan because you can only imagine the sort of unwarranted guilt he’d feel about it.

“And I, you know, I’m your boss, and if I’m puttin’ you in a weird spot–it’s just – I don’t wanna take advantage–”

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?” you interrupt in a strained whisper.

His head inches back in surprise. “I– Would you want me to?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I would. I really would.”

He licks his lips and nods, eyes skirting down to your mouth and then back up. He reaches out for you no sooner than you’re clambering onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. His mouth is hot and eager on yours, the plush give of his lip contrasting delightfully with the scratch of his beard. He rocks up into you, pressing on the curve of your spine to flatten your body against his. The wet smack of your mouths is only drowned out by the breathy moans escaping your throat.

The warm pad of his palm runs along your back where his hand is shoved under your shirt – his shirt – and dances across your bare skin. Your body writhes against him instinctively, seeking out more points of contact between the two of you, as the kiss deepens. His free hand wraps around your hip and encourages the swivel of them against his lap. Joel’s gravelly groans spur you on until you’re deliberately rocking against the plump of his belly.

You’re thanking yourself for forgoing your bra and panties from last night and just donning the clothes Joel gave you to borrow because there’s so little separating your bodies. When your reflexive grinding lands the heat of your core against the firm pressure of his thigh, you gasp and break from the kiss.

Joel’s eyes are dark and half-lidded, eyeing you with a hunger that makes you clench around nothing.

“You gotta tell me to stop if you need it to stop,” he grits.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you choke out as you rush to resume the heaven of his touch.

You chase his lips and pout when you realize his mouth is drifting to the side as he pulls away for a moment longer.

“Listen, I just gotta– I gotta make sure of somethin’ before I get caught up in all this and can’t string two thoughts together. Are you, uh… you been with … somebody before?”

You blink a few times and level your breathing while you process the unexpected question. “You mean am I a virgin?”

His face flushes a million degrees. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m askin’.”

“Are you a virgin, Joel? You’re pretty pink right now.”

He flushes deeper. “Nah, quit it. M’serious. I just, you know, I wanna make sure you’re— I don’t wanna hurt you or anything is all. I don’t mean to ask after your whole history or somethin’—”

“You sorta sound like you’re interested in deflowering me,” you tease.

“Christ, I dunno about that,” he scoffs.

“You mean the idea of a sweet, innocent virgin doesn’t do anything for you?”

“Honestly, it’s — that would be— that’s a lot of pressure if I’m bein’ honest. Not that I wouldn’t— I would take care of anybody that needed— I mean, of course, but I think I’d be so in my head about it the whole time worried I’d ruin your first time or somethin’.”

“Well, you’re off the hook. I’m not a virgin.”

He gives you a crooked smile. “Phew,” he jokes.

“But, um. Well, I’ve actually never— I’ve only been with girls, so I’m sort of new to … your type of equipment,” you admit.

“Oh. Oh. So– wait. You— you’ve had stuff up there before though, right?”

“Fingers.”

“Small fingers if it’s just been girls.”

You shrug. You can feel heat flooding your face now, too. You hoped you weren't coming off as inexperienced and scaring him away. “Normal fingers,” you petulantly argue.

“No, what I mean is—” he takes your hand in his, easily cradling it in the size of his own “—mine might be a little more to take. Among other things.”

Heat floods your cheeks and panties. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” you assure him. While you really do mean it, you pray that Joel doesn’t want to stop.

“How about we just see after you today, huh?” he suggests. “See where that takes us.”

“What did you have in mind?” You roll your hips against his lap and giggle when he groans and grips your sides.

“You gonna be trouble for me, huh?” he rasps. He slips a hand under your waistband and curves his hand around the meat of your inner thigh, knuckles grazing against your pussy lips.

You jolt forward with a loud moan and grip onto his shoulders, mouth gone slack. You catch the satisfied grin on his face before he ducks his head to nuzzle your throat where he lays a line of wet, open mouthed kisses.

You grab at his wrist to push him closer to where you ache to be touched, but he freezes for a split second in confusion, thinking you wanted him to stop. A devilish grin blooms on his mouth when he realizes it’s quite the opposite, and then he’s teasing his thick fingers in a V on the outside of your lips.

“Can’t even wait for me to touch you there, can ya?” he goads. “You need it real bad, huh?”

You shake your head dumbly at a complete loss of words. He grins even wider.

“Yeah you do,” he hums low and breathy.

He presses against your thigh creases before drawing his fingers together, trapping your lips between his middle and pointer fingers. He massages the engorged flesh and applies pressure and friction to your clit with your own folds. The smear of his movements makes your dripping arousal smack and pop.

“Please touch it,” you beg, not even caring how desperate and needy you sound.

“Like this?”

Four of his fingers stacked on top of each other form a wide, flat plane against your folds where he runs firm passes. Your hips buck as you cry out, and you feel a release already building. You could say it was the much needed tension relief or how long you’ve wanted Joel like this, but it’s undeniable that he is about to make you come faster than you can ever remember with anyone or even yourself.

“Yeah, you like that,” he husks. “All wet and needy. You just let me take care of that.”

“I think I’m gonna come,” you squeak out.

“Yeah?” His face lights up with an eager hunger. “Come for me, sweetheart. Lemme see how much you like my hand, and we’ll see what else I got that you like.”

You grind in sync with his rubbing, and your pussy clenches hard and deep inside, feeling so intense you could swear it’s pulling on your stomach muscles with each contraction. Everything is a hazy euphoria as your orgasm tears through you. You’re vaguely aware of Joel’s running commentary to himself as you come down from your high. Murmurings of “pretty when you come for me” and “look so good like this.” You whine when he removes his hand, but he just chuckles and goes back to kissing and nuzzling your neck.

“You gonna let me see it or am I just allowed to feel it today?”

“You can do whatever you want to it,” you breathe, drunk on pleasure.

“Mmmm, just like I thought. Trouble.”

He turns and lays you on the couch. You feel weightless and warm. He asks if it’s okay to tug your pants down, and you draw another chuckle from him when you impatiently start shoving at it yourself. He pulls them down to your thighs and drags one pant leg all the way off before discarding them completely. He sucks in a sharp inhale when he leans in closer to your soaked pussy.

“Fuck me that’s pretty,” he murmurs under his breath.

He drops a leg off the couch so he can crouch forward and rest his cheek against your thigh. You nearly launch off the couch when he presses a soft kiss to your clit. “Sshhh sshhhh, I got you. So sensitive, sweetheart.”

“I can’t help it,” you pout.

“I’ll be real gentle, okay? I just wanna taste you.”

“Okay,” you say back in a hush. “Lemme feel your mouth.”

He grunts at the invitation and hovers just next to your glistening core. “Look at me. Wanna see your face when I eat this pretty pussy.”

You oblige and prop yourself up slightly on your elbows until you’re holding Joel’s gaze. Your head snaps back when he flits his tongue just inside your slit, and you have enough mind to crane your head back down to look at him like he asked you to. His grin is wild and devilish, eyes locked onto you and waiting for you to look at him again before he’s lapping slow strokes up and down.

You’d always thought that if you ever did end up getting with a guy that they wouldn’t be as skilled at going down on you as the girls you’d been with or even want to at all based on stories you’d heard from others. Apparently neither applied to Joel because you can barely keep yourself conscious of anything but him and his mouth as he devours you with a genuine enthusiasm that only further turns you on.

“Feels so good,” you whine.

He groans in approval, and the added vibration nearly sends you over the edge right then and there. He yanks your lower body closer to him so he can drape your leg over his shoulder, and you realize the loud, pitiful whimpers and moans floating through the room are coming from you.

“Look at me when I make you come,” he urges.

You hold eye contact right as he latches onto your clit and sucks with wet, pursed lips, and you’re freefalling again. Your entire body droops against the cushions, hands grabbing Joel’s curls as he rocks his head back and forth to work you through your high. He gently laps at your release, slipping his tongue around and inside you and suckling every drop until you’re limp and worn out.

Your head lolls to the side, and you watch as Joel grips a large bulge in the crotch of his pants. He almost looks pained as he squeezes, and your eyes widen at the size of his outline.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

“Just tryna…. tryin’ not to come, sweetheart,” he grits, leaning back to sit against the couch.

You scurry over to him and palm him through his pants. “I want you to come, too.”

“This is about you tod—” He lets out a ragged exhale when you clumsily stroke the outline of him.

“Please. I wanna see you.”

He obliges with an okay, sweetheart, and you keep your expression in check when the heft of him falls free. You’ve never seen one before, but you’re pretty sure that his is bigger than average. You awkwardly grip a hand around it and gently tug up and down.

“Show me how to do it,” you whisper.

He presses his hand around yours and strokes faster, but it feels a bit dry. You spit onto the tip of it, and his face is something you wish you could capture forever. Brow knitted, mouth hung open and low. Looking like he’s indebted to you and astounded all at once. The added lubrication makes your hands move faster, and you watch curiously as his balls start to pull up into themselves.

“M’gonna come,” he warns, and a few seconds later he’s erupting all over himself and both of your hands with a guttural moan.

It’s unfamiliar and arousing to see the thick ropes of cum spurt and splatter everywhere, and you watch with unabashed interest. You’re only pulled away from examining the way his stomach rises and falls as his breaths even out when he slings an arm around you and pulls you into a kiss.

It’s slower and more deliberate than before, and you taste the tang of yourself on his tongue. You get into a lazy, sated rhythm, exploring and learning one another, until you both eventually slow to a stop.

“That was really nice,” you say in a hush.

He grins and nods. “Yeah, it was.”

“I feel so good.”

“Mmmm, me, too. Wanted to make it about you, but I just got so fuckin’ hard tasting you.”

You giggle and cuddle up against him. “You looked so hot when you were coming.”

“Same to you times ten. Looked like an angel singing when you came all over my fingers and mouth.”

“The devil was an angel, too, you know,” you joke.

“Like I said earlier: trouble,” he laughs. “Just my kinda trouble, sweetheart. Just my kinda trouble.”

Thanks for your patience on this one. I will be slow responding to anybody who comments or reblogs because of irl shit, but I will do my best. Thanks for reading.

tagging:

@survivingandenduring @bizarrelove-triangle @cumberpegg @verybigvag @jodiswiftle

@umnitsa @ellenmunn @fairy3333 @doblasftcisco @ctrlaltdel3te

@fishingforpike @copperhalfcent @zooty-and-fruity @jupiter-soups @walw1017

@beelzebeth87 @pastelpinkflowerlife @samiamproductions @koshkaj-blog @dontjudgemyobsessionpls

#fic: chrysalism #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #hurt/comfort #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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literatureloverx · 4 months ago

Note

Hiii!! good day to you☺️☺️!!! Just wanna ask something if you don't mind me🤗. In the aftercare scenario with fyodor, in the last part of it they talked about having children. Since reading that it's the only thing on my mind rn😔. I really wanna know what you think about fyodor, his darling and their children. Like would he be a good dad, an okay one or a bad one? How maby children do you think he'll have? Etc etc. Even though it's kinda impossible for him(rn) to have children since it'll probably become a problem for his plan, but can't a girl dream?🥺 Anyway tyty in advance if you answer this

(I love you so muchhhhh ahhh i wanna bite you/affectionately/😚😚. I love love the way you potray fyodor— my knees become weak every time I read one of your post! You're literally serving us a whole 5 star mchelin meal and I'm licking the plate- all utensils clean frfr😋😋. I hope you continue this and I'll be right here with the others supporting you🫶🏼🫶🏼)

Oh my gosh, I actually shed some tears here…🥺❤️

I can’t even begin to tell you how much your support means to me. Every time I read your sweet words, I get so emotional. I'm beyond grateful for your love and encouragement—it really keeps me going. ❤️

Thank you from the bottom of my heart!❤️❤️❤️

In actuality, I got two other requests about Dad!Fyodor. I wrote some headcanons about this and included a scene too, but since I don’t want to be unfair, I will post the scenario I wrote here and the headcanons in the other request ��️

I hope you enjoy it, my dear! ❤️

Mdni, yandere behaviour, unhealthy behaviour, dad!fyodor, ideal type fem!reader, fluff, etc.

———————————

F Y O D O R D O S T O E V S K Y

Belonging

Never in his life had Fyodor calculated that he would end up in this moment. It was a delight indeed, to feel the pleasure of utter belonging. You, belonging to him. Him, belonging to you. Him, belonging to his own small family.

A small smile forms on his lips, his eyes softening as his pale, cold hand gently places itself upon your belly.

It feels so strange, in an almost tooth-rottingly sweet way. It was something he never wished for, never considered before. But since you came crashing into his life with your graceful, soft, sweet nature, hopping into his safe space, jumping over his seemingly endless high walls, everything has been changing for him.

To find himself in such a vulnerable state was frustrating. He did not handle this new information well at the beginning, at all.

After endless loneliness, he felt uncomfortable with the togetherness with someone else. Finding you and falling for you, his soulmate, his lover, was indeed a shock for his hardened heart.

But now, this? A child? His child, that you’re bearing inside your very body?

He is not someone who loses his cool easily. You softened him. Your still unborn baby, whom he can't imagine parenting as any other human being does, softened him. He has found himself dwelling on thoughts obsessively focused on you and your child. About your future.

If this had not happened simply by itself, he wouldn’t have thought of having a child. But now that you’re full with his child, smiling at him with utmost love and affection, he can't help but love your baby.

Love… such a distant word for him for decades, for hundreds of years. Humbling, but so utterly real.

“Can you feel it, my love?”

“Yes, love.”

His gaze focuses on you, the dark glimmer shining through his soft expression, a sight far too familiar to you.

“I’m amazed how we managed to produce such an energetic offspring, given our harmonious and peaceful personalities.”

His humorous comment makes you huff out a giggle, amused at his remark.

“I’m not sure if I’d describe you as such, my love…”

His eyes soften further.

“I believe that motherhood has already made you brattier, my dear. We might need to change that attitude in the near future.”

Another chuckle, this time even more heartfelt than before.

He softly kisses your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your belly.

“The medicine is working. You’re feeling less dizziness, correct?”

Fyodor being your husband has more than enough beautiful aspects to it. One of them is, indeed, his ability to see, hear, and understand everything the moment it occurs. Like now. He always knows how you’re feeling, and it is refreshing in a sweet way.

“Yes, my love. I’m doing very well. Also, I'm not lonely at all, thanks to you.”

He smiles fondly, a lazy smirk stretching out his lips. Of course you weren’t. He is often away, but he always manages to send you gifts and activities to pass the time with. You’re always surrounded by people who dote on you and do everything in their power to make you feel comfortable in your huge mansion while you wait day and night for your husband to arrive and show you his affection.

It always pays off. The waiting, the longing, the slight agony that sometimes pierces your heart and makes you miss him even more than ever.

But he always returns. Always, without a single exception.

In those times whenever you were waiting eagerly for your husband to return, you had plenty of time to think about every possible possibility. How your lives would change when your little one arrives, what kind of mother you’d be to your child, what kind of father Fyodor would be… you never once doubted him.

You trust him with all your heart and secretly, this trust gives Fyodor immense strength, even if he never verbally acknowledged it. He knows that you trust him, and your trust and love work wonders on him.

From a logical perspective, he is not someone who needs love or acknowledgment, praise or appreciation. But with you by his side, loving, appreciating, trusting, understanding, and caring for him unconditionally, he acknowledges that everything is so much more beautiful as you bestow pure joy into his previously cold and inhumane life.

Your little family already makes him feel more human. You make him feel human. Not that he thought that he ever cared about being inhuman, but it turns out that he is, indeed, not much different than other human beings.

Feeling like a human has an incredible vulnerability to it. But with you, he can’t help but bow down to his own humanity, to his own vulnerability.

“I love you...”

His eyes glimmer with a faint shadow, and you can see inside his eyes how his sentence continues.

‘…I love both of you.’

To read my other works and the backstory to this scenario => MASTERLIST

#bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fyodor x you #yandere bsd #bsd #yandere fyodor

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wackyharpy · 11 months ago

Text

Eventually (Part 1)

Modern! Aemond x Fem! Reader

Summary: Aemond has been in love with Helaena's best friend but hasn't confessed yet. Everything changes when he meets her at Dragonstone.

Part 2

Part 3 (maybe, not sure)

A/N: English isn't my native language. I'd be very glad for your comments and reblogs. Thank you in advance! Enjoy the story :)

For the atmosphere: Agnes Obel — Familiär

Warnings ⚠️

NSFW 18+, m masturbation, mentioning of sex, swearing, in this story Helaena is the youngest, she/her pronouns.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Two years.

Aemond Targaryen has been madly in love for two years. And if it weren't his lifestyle and business, he would confess. His family is another reason why it is so complicated. Although, the main reason is his fucking father and his delusional idea of Aemond's marriage with that Baratheon girl, God only knows her name.

One more issue. Who is she? A girl from a plain family without wealth that the Baratheon, oh Lord how Aemond is fed up with hearing that name, has. That's all. She is just a student. She is just the best friend of Halaena. She just sometimes appears at their mansion for a movie night with his sister. She is just a girl who Aemond has been madly in love with for two years.

***

Ragged breathing. The sound of the turned on shower. He has only half an hour to get to work. But Aemond can't stop. Can't stop thinking about her. Hair, eyes, lips, neck, collarbone, breasts, literally everything. All of her. He wants to devour her. Aemond's hand goes back and forth on his firm shaft. All thoughts swirling in the mind are of her. He shuts his eye tight making movements of the hand faster and harder. He desires it to be not his fingers and palm but her warm mouth or wet pussy. He wants to hear the sounds of their shared juices but not of the shower. Breathes are heavy. It seems as something has stuck in his chest, it wishes to break free, to burst with loud groans.

"Fuck!" he exclaims.

Aemond starts moving his hips roughly thrusting into his hand seeking for the relief. Still it would feel better if it were her hot insides.

"Fuck! Ah!" he moans.

There. It's there. Soon. He is going to come. Finally. He fucking wants her. Desires more than everything.

"Aahh!"

Aemond's cock starts twisting releasing his semen on the floor of the shower. He breathes heavily feeling huge relief. Aemond leans his head back opening his mouth slightly and licks his lips. The last exhalation is deep and long. Somewhat his mind has cleared and cooled being ready for another working day. Though, Aemond knows it won't last long. Sooner or later his only thought is going to be her.

***

"I don't fucking care, Viserys! She's a bitch!" Daemon shouts squeezing a crystal tumbler in his hand.

Aemond is sitting in his father's office at their family's mansion, silently looking at the mahogany desk. He is waiting for the ending of another spectacle that has uncovered after several minutes when Daemon and he have entered the room. Rhea Royce has been a topic of conversations between two brothers recently as the rogue one possesses no wish to be married to her anymore.

Aemond exhales heavily and keeps on sipping his Knappogue Castle Irish Whiskey.

They have come to discuss new reports from the financial department but, as Aemond has noticed, currently Daemon's concern isn't connected with Targaryen's company. Instead of working, he argues with Viserys due to his wish to divorce that Royce bitch and to marry his new passion — Laena Velaryon.

All responsibilities and work at the financial department are on Aemond's shoulders. Again. It happened once several years ago when Daemon suddenly realised he got tired signing papers, sitting at meetings, deciding matters, so he just bought two tickets to Essos and went on a journey with his lover, nobody remembers her name now.

Only Aemond remembers. He remembers everything. He remembers the huge fight that happened within the family right after his uncle's airplane took off. He remembers how he had been working day and night reviewing all transactions, conducting all operations, leading all meetings, everything... When Daemon, the head of the department, was sipping a cocktail lying on the beach, sunbathing in pleasant rays while his lover was making a slobbery blow job. Aemond has always been a scapegoat, especially after that incident when he lost his eye. That was the moment when he realised that his father didn't care about him and his brothers, and sister.

"I said everything! I'll marry Laena and nobody will stop me!"

With these words, Daemon shuts the door leaving Viserys and Aemond alone.

The elder Targaryen exhales heavily:

"He's going to be the death of me," mutters Viserys and turns towards his son.

"How's work?"

Aemond mentally curses his father for this fake caring. In one gulp he drinks the remainings of 12-year-old whiskey and places the glass on the small table next to the armchair.

"Work is fine," dryly answers. He wishes promptly to discuss the matter and leave the office. Aemond can't stand his father at all.

"Then let's see what we have," Viserys sits in his working armchair wrapped in dusty brown leather and takes the folder with the reports.

***

"Aegon!" Aemond knocks at the door of his brother's bedroom. He hears moans and sweet gibberish that Aegon, perhaps, is telling a girl who is now below him. Or on top. Aemond doesn't care.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" exclaims the girl and releases a load groan that, as Aemond considers, the whole mansion has heard.

"Aegon!" Aemond knocks one more time feeling impatient, "we have to go! Open the door! Now!"

"You like it?" He hears his brother's chuckling and moaning — Aegon has always been loud in bed.

"Yeah!" The girl laughs; the bed continues squeaking.

Aemond exasperatedly runs the hand on his face and tsks. He turns on his heels and goes downstairs right to the rooms of the staff. There, he borrows a key that a maid uses to unlock Aegon's bedroom for cleaning.

The moment Aemond enters the room, he sees a red haired girl bouncing on his brother's hips. So... she's on top.

"Oh, hi, brother," Aegon smiles still keeping one hand on the lean leg of his guest and another one on her heavy breast.

"Meet Angelica," the elder goes on completely undeterred by the situation he is caught in.

"I don't care," Aemond dryly answers casting a quick glance at the girl that is grinning at him, "just get your things and come on. We're going to Dragonstone."

"What's it now?" Aegon rolls his eyes.

"We're to meet Corlys there and arrange something. I'm waiting in the car."

"Is the issue arised because our dear uncle wants to divorce that bitch?" Aegon laughs.

"No," Aemond answers coldly turning to the doorway, "five minutes, Aegon. Hurry up!"

At long last, the door of the car is opened, and Aegon gets into sitting next to Aemond. The picture is hilarious, mostly for the elder of two brothers: inside, the car smells of tobacco, citrus, and something woody — Aemond's perfume, which he adores. He is wearing a classy black suit of the English cut with a matching dark grey tie. And Aegon sprawls on the leather seat only in jeans and a T-shirt, luckily, a clean one.

"Always a good little boy?" He snickers examining his brother's outfit. Aemond ignores the insult and keeps on looking in the window. The gloomy expression is on his face.

"I heard Daemon doesn't appear at office, fucks Laena instead of that bitch, so... again all work is on you, little good boy?"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" Aemond hisses turning the head towards his brother.

"What?! Isn't that true?!"

"Maybe you'd better start doing your part of the work as well?"

"I don't give a shit," Aegon puts on a resentful face, "if our father doesn't give a shit about us, why should I care?"

"The matter isn't in..."

"The matter is exactly in this! Rheanyra is CEO, not me, not you. You're not even given a position of the head of the financial department. During all these years, as you've been working hard, not Daemon. But, as I said, they don't give a fuck."

Then, there is long silence between both of them. Aemond is looking in the window at changing landscapes: from King's Landing's houses with red roofs to the views of the calm sea as the car has been driven on the bridge that leads to Dragonstone.

"There's going to be Halaena and her," Aemond hears how his brother's mood changes abruptly. Only several seconds ago, he was upset because of the family issues, and now he's grinning looking at Aemond pointedly. He doesn't condemn Aegon for quick mood alterations, in some way, it's his method of hiding the resentment and living among crazy relatives. Still, at times, Aemond finds this Aegon's feature to be very annoying.

"Her?" Aemond raises one brow.

The Cheshire cat's grin becomes bigger on his brother's face.

"Oh, come on, don't pretend like you're an idiot! Her, Aemond. You know who I'm talking about."

"Halaena's best friend," Aemond responds feeling as if something is swirling uncomfortably in his stomach when mentioning her.

"Yes," a satisfied expression appears on Aegon's face, "Daeron texted me. Their summer holidays started at university and they decided to come to Dragonstone, like for a week, I guess. You know, to have parties, to sunbathe in bikinis, to swim."

Aemond gulps nervously. His pupils have dilated. He feels hot.

"If you could only see yourself!" Aegon bursts out laughing unable to control himself, "I know you wanna fuck her!"

"I don't!" Aemond cuts off immediately indignantly looking at his brother's face possessing a sole desire to smack him hard.

"Yes, you do! I notice how you look at her. Do you love her?"

One more time, the loud laughing can be heard in the car — Aegon isn't able to stop. Aemond just exhales heavily and turns his face away from his idiot brother towards the window.

He is exhausted. Because of everything. Aegon, Daemon, his father, all this abnormality the Targaryen family possesses, probably, for decades. He wishes to rest, at least, a little. Isolate himself from others and just sit in his room alone for several days like a mad man. However, there's no going back; his life is predestined, and he has been working in the family business for so long. Somehow, Aemond has got used to this lifestyle. Though, the only silver lining of his life remains to be Halaena's best friend. The girl who he has been madly in love with. The girl who he is going to meet again in an hour.

#aemond #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aegon ii targaryen #daemon targaryen #viserys targaryen #king viserys

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vivvangel · 11 months ago

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new year, new me ! | PART ONE

synopsis: in a span of two years, sunghoon, the "sweet face devil", or that one ridiculously good looking every uni has (or we wish had), changed so much that most believed he was putting up "a good boy act" to stay out of trouble. turns out, it was a part of his new years' resolution to win you back.

warnings: sunghoon x reader, terrible take on humor, angsty, plot moves a bit fast, sunghoon slander, pregnancy jokes, sunghoon and y/n are both pathetics in love.

viv's note: had to split it up cause it's too big (no double meaning intended..) also part two will NOT be released.

the human heart breaks sometimes.

sometimes it heals pretty quickly with the span of time, and other times, it stays in its broken state.

you weren't sure where you were in that zone after your sweet long-term highschool boyfriend kissed someone in front you during the last year of uni.

sunghoon had changed a lot throughout the years, but, for as long as he could remember you were his everything. one drunk fuck up at jake sim, his bestfriend's party and your mutual friend, ripped everything he had and loved in a matter of days.

it all started when sunghoon was invited to a party, not just any party, the "best" and "never seen before" type of party as jake claimed. there would be nothing sunghoon regrets more than going to this stupid party. long story short, sunghoon and you went to the party together, you left him alone, as in you left his side for a bit to catch up with your girlfriend, yunjin. there would be nothing you regret more than doing so. sunghoon got completely drunk and gives into the advances of this random girl— kissing her, in front of everyone, in front of you.

sunghoon's friends separated the girl from sunghoon, who was completely oblivious to what just happened as you left the party, immediately. that's how you two broke up. you two never said you broke up, but let's be honest — everyone, including you and sunghoon, thought this was over.

that was over a year ago, though. you haven't heard about sunghoon in these past 12 months, except for an occasional "he's doing pretty good for himself now" whenever you and jake caught up with life.

your phone buzzes. you assume it's yunjin, or chaewon and check.

"what the fuck..?" you thought to yourself, munching on the bag of cheetos you opened to accompany you while you watched your favorite romcom. "THIS IS NOT FOR REAL WHAT THE FUCK— okay NO, be cool, I'm over his ass, be nonchalant!" you say to yourself as your fingertips dance around the keyboard, trying to merge words to form some coherent sentence that isn't "omg hoon texted me🥺"

you would be lying if you said your heart didn't skip a beat.

so 2 days later, you did wear something cute and go to the cafe where you're supposed to meet him.

it was awkward. quiet, and full of awkward forced laughter. you never would've thought the lively conversations of random nonsense, laughter & banter would turn into — whatever this was. "so y/n..." sunghoon tries starting a conversation, warily. you look at him, not saying anything. "i know i'm a fucking jerk for saying this after all these years, but i'm sorry, you didn't deserve what i put you through"

silence. sunghoon tenses up a bit.

what do you even say to that? "thanks for being sorry"?, "oh no, it's fine"? but it isn't fine, and you're not thankful. "i mean, we don't get to control shit like that, do we? i'm sorry too for being too timid to say anything back then." you finally muster up the courage to say that, your eyes almost melting into his. everything in life changed, except this. his eyes. still warm, still full of love. you see it, feel it, but don't know what to do about it.

"why are you apologizing, y/n? it was all my fault anyways i should've never gotten drun—" he sighs, trailing off. "all i'm trying to say is, i know i'm not worthy of your forgiveness but you're still my world after all of that. i know it's selfish for me to ask because i'm the one who fucked everything up but, y/n, i'll always love you"

"we never fell out of love, did we?" you say, chuckling sadly afterwards as a tear rolls down your face. "y/n, please don't cry, you're the only one i've ever loved in my life, you know that"

"would it be crazy if i kissed him?" you think to yourself —

"sunghoon, will it be crazy for me to kiss you?" you blurt out, as sunghoon's eyes widen, but a small smirk forms on his lips. "you know what else is crazy? how much i love you" and with that,

his lips, on yours.

... TNBC ! | PART 2 (✖️ !)

taglist ! @zerasari @noidnoentry @heeseungskiwi @nonotwice1 @txtlyn @heelvsted @sunfull @nctdom @coriantiax @strawberrysavi @dopeydokyeom @sussyjake @sjkezz @no-jams-no-mans @simp4jongseong @fancycreatorofaspy @jiheon @imisshyunjin @flwrsforni

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joseimukeaddict · 5 months ago

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Haikyuu and Public Transportation Headcanons: Nekoma Team

Nekoma’s confirmed to be on the fringe of Tokyo, so they’re still city boys even though their neighborhood is more suburban.

Third Years:

Tetsurō Kuroo - He has to be a train boy, like a bullet train or diesel train guy (subways wish they could be like those); man is a stander, leans on subway poles because he thinks it’s cool; subway buddies with Kenma

Nobuyuki Kai - More of a bus rider than subway; sleeps on long distance trains but not usually on shorter rides; plans his exact routes way in advance because he doesn’t like being late

Morisuke Yaku - Reluctant mothering of his juniors on the train like telling them to behave or pulling them off the train by the cuff, especially Lev; also has been mistaken for a child and probably in front of one of his team mates; rides the subway to school alone but travels back with some buddies most of the time; glued to his phone energy

Second Years:

Taketora Yamamoto - Up until a few years ago, he used to always hold Akane’s hand when traveling on public transport, and when she hit that age when it gets embarrassing to be so attached to your older siblings, she suddenly told him to stop and poor Yamamoto never figured out why; stander also bc he’s too cool to sit down; holds the train doors for people although he gets yelled at by train workers for doing so

Kenma Kozume - it is so obvious that he plays games the moment he gets his butt onto a seat, he needs both hands to play after all; suffers from mild motion sickness on some rides unfortunately due to a variety of reasons which could be he didn’t eat enough before getting on the train or reading textboxes on the train give him a headache, etc; typically he and Kuroo will ride together and Kuroo will yap as Kenma taps away on his Switch; Kuroo has to drag him off the train because he will not stop gaming

Shōhei Fukunaga - Daydreams on rides and loses track of time so he gotta rush to get out those doors; the vibrations of the ride are soothing and he likes the up high views too; never gets lost in the station and somehow knows all the shortcuts

First Years:

Sō Inuoka - Gives off big tourists and visitors from out of city ask him for directions vibes (struggles a bit but he’s somehow able to point them to the correct way); most of the Nekoma boys are polite enough to give their seats up for the elderly but this man will give his seat up to anybody he’s so nice; 1000% one of those good samaritans who help out those in wheel chairs, crutches, etc get onto buses; loves riding with friends especially other members of the team, and depending on the person, they feel slightly guilty of not doing the same when Inuoka goes to be a good person (I’m sorry but he’s so acts of service himbo in my mind it’s insane)

Tamahiko Teshiro - In group settings amongst same-age peers, he is their GPS and also the person wearing the “I am Teshiro” shirt for the guys wearing “If lost, return to Teshiro” shirts; I’m so sorry for any Teshiro fans but the more I look at his wiki page, the more grandpa friend vibes I get; sleeps a little on the train and usually rides with a buddy

Lev Haiba - The Lost Child Ever (less bc he doesn’t know directions and more bc of he makes detours in new places and can’t read a map); was that one child who could not stop bouncing in his seat on a train; loves to go with friends but he’s got that hyperactive energy that requires someone to actually respond to him as he yaps away; uses his phone or a credit/debit card to tap bc he would not remember to refill his train/bus card although he thinks those cards are fun

Yūki Shibayama - Used to ride the bus/train alone to and from school but gained travel buddies over the years; sites watcher and reader but mostly bc he gets bored easily; transitions from sitter to pole leaner (third years are a bad influence); prefers the bus over the train

——

Bonus:

Yasufumi Nekomata has family drive him around and Manabu Naoi has a car. Naoi has particularly bad luck with traffic.

——

Prev: Karasuno, Seijoh

So I’ve finished season 4 and watched the movie; damn was it good. Should have been longer tho, like 2 hrs isn’t that much of a stretch? 🥹

Fukunaga my child wow I love him. All the expressions and the sound direction was on point, Kenma looked so cool. The camera angles were unique but personally I loved it, especially the first person perspectives.

Remember: If anything is wrong, just ignore it 👍 Also Shiratorizawa is next.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #haikyū!!#kuroo tetsurou #kai nobuyuki #yaku morisuke #yamamoto taketora #kozume kenma #fukunaga shouhei #inuoka sou #teshiro tamahiko #haiba lev #shibayama yuuki #maybe I should make some aesthetic banners #I’m so lost now that I’ve caught up with the anime and movie #should I start reading the manga now or wait until the 2nd movie???

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highonmarvel · 9 months ago

Note

Hello! It's not 2024 yet,but it will be in one more day so Happy New Year in Advance! May I please request a dark!reader with a soft!dark Bucky? Not a dark or fully dark Bucky but soft dark one like the Bucky you wrote in your recent story called 'Himalayan Salt'. Your dark Bucky really scares me as they are truly dark and cruel,and stay true to the dark fics genre. But for this request,may I request that he won't do any hitting or physical abuse towards the reader? Because I find that I really liked your 'Himalayan Salt' soft!dark!Bucky.

My request is dark!reader is obsessed with Bucky and stalks him,snaps his pictures to keep to herself,steal his stuffs to keep as souveniers,basically everything a yandere would do. But she has no clue that Bucky is also obsessed with her,probably more than she is of him and that he knows everything that she's doing to him when she thought he wasn't looking or didn't notice. He even finds it amusing and think of her as an adorable amateur stalker. She doesn't talk to him and never introduces herself to him (which Bucky wishes she would do) because she thinks someone as handsome as Bucky wouldn't even spare someone like her a glance so she resorts to watching him and fantasizing about him from afar.

Reader got herself in his apartment (that he didn't have proper security or proper locks for on purpose so she can enter easily and his apartment,not hers,because she wouldn't be able to get him back to her place as easily) to hide and wait until he gets back. He has tiny cameras in his apartment that connects to his phone that let him know that Reader is in his apartment and is about to kidnap him. He get home ASAP,acts normal and unaware and purposely stands near to a spot that he knows reader is hiding at and turns his back to her to let her knock him out. She knocked him out and tied him up/restraints him on his bed. He woke up some time later to reader explaining her plan to keep him and reader forces herself on him. Which he pretends not to like at first so he can let her have her moment and let her think she has the upper hand here. But then he started laughing and giggling which confuses and creeps reader out before he broke out of his restraints easily and flipped her over,pinning her on his bed and revealing that he's knew all along and he's far more obsessed with her as he thinks about her everyday,enjoying the little game they play that's she's unaware of and have his way with her in the end. His turn.

I know you said to expect physical abuse or hitting in your fics as they are dark fics but I want to request that Bucky doesn't hit or physically abuse reader in any way in this one,if I can. And vice versa with reader never hitting or physically abuse Bucky except to knock him out as I find her chloroforming an enchanced super soldier unrealistic. Just the non con or dub con committed towards Reader by Bucky in the end. So I guess it's a soft!dark!reader x soft!dark!Bucky request.

Sorry for this long & shitty request and sorry if this isn't really in your lane. I just needed to get this off my chest before I forgot about the idea completely. And I just wanted to try my luck. It's also okay if you don't want to do it,I understand ❤ I'll be treating myself to your other works and upcoming stories in the future. Take care of yourself,hope you're doing well,stay safe and have a blessed New Year ❤❤❤ Thank you for just reading through my terrible request alone and sorry to put you through this lol. Thanks again ❤ Much love! 💞

i’m gonna be honest with you, i wasn’t really into this. the idea sounds cool but i’m not really into dark!reader, though i see where you’re coming from, and i get that my fics are really fucking dark, but someone has to do it. but this was so well thought out and you were so kind at the end i had to do it for ya. and i had fun! it was outside my comfort zone, that’s why it took so long (among other things.) you had a lot here so i apologise if it doesn’t come out as you wanted, but i tried my best, and i did change it just a little bit. here it is:

Amateur Hour

Bucky Barnes: A glimpse generates an obsession, though maybe it’s not as one-sided as you think.

content warnings here!

Sort of subdued all your life, you’ve never had the courage to come right out and say you liked someone, and that led you to observation more than conversation, watching people you admire closely, but nothing more, until you see him.

It’s a fairly overcast day, the sun just peaking out enough so as to not make the air cold. You sit peacefully on a park bench, reading a novel without the threat of rain tempting fear of getting your book wet. You hear someone coming down the path, obviously, because this is a public park, and you don’t know why you look up, but you do, and the wind is knocked right out of your chest.

You’ve never seen a man as beautiful as him, brown hair and mysterious steel blue eyes with a perfectly sculpted jawline and just enough stubble so as to make your heart rate pick up. You don’t realise you’re staring after him until he turns and gives you a quick friendly smile, pink lips upturning for a moment before he continues, but enough to make you develop an obsession of sorts.

You’re used to watching people you admire, and that’s as far as it goes, but this… this is different. He has to have been sculpted by God Himself, strong arms and broad shoulders you all but want to be wrapped in. You could never speak to a man like that, but you could never let him escape in the streets and never see him again, you’re already haunted by the image of him having only briefly met his eyes, you know you’ll go insane if you don’t know him, and so a less insane option is to… watch.

Very casually, you shut your book and stand, stretching before strolling in his direction, keeping your footsteps small enough so that you can follow without him getting suspicious as to why you don’t overtake him. You take in the tress around you, nature you usually appreciate, but you can’t really observe any beauty anymore without knowing they will never compare to the man in front of you. It’ll never be enough now.

And you don’t know it, but Bucky smirks to himself as he hears your gentle footsteps behind him.

You turn out as he does, and usually you would be more vigilant to pickpockets and busy people speed walking on the pavements of New York, but there’s nothing in the world that can take your focus off of the back of his head. You’re sure you must have bumped into a few people, but you can’t recall it, mumbling an apology every once in a while until you stop them completely, trying to keep as silent as possible. You follow him for a bit, though you’re not sure how long; every concept you’ve ever known—time and space—are nothing compared to him. You’re desperate for him to look at you again, you almost want to out yourself right then and there and force his lips onto yours, but you know that’s dumb, yet still it takes you a lot more self control that you ever thought you needed to keep your cool.

You reach a block of apartment buildings and slow down slightly—with less people around, you don’t want to look suspicious. When he turns to one, you turn to the one across the street, watching in the reflection of the glass door entrance as he lets himself into a building. So that’s where he lives. You jot down the address in your notes app and take a picture of the place, just in case, ducking behind a car to see if one of the windows will open revealing him. You frown when after a few minutes, there’s no movement, and so you head around the back, where the flat is facing an empty lot rather than a long road. And you see him, standing by his window, the breeze perfectly combing through his hair.

So you’re the quiet type, you note, seeing as he’d rather his place face no one than everyone. You can’t help yourself from taking another picture, and just before he disappears from your sight. Once he’s gone, you press your back against the wall and grip your phone with both hands to take in that beautiful sight forever. You can’t fight it anymore, you have to know him.

***

Bucky chuckles to himself as he steps back. He knew you were in the park, he came specifically for a walk to see you, but he wasn’t really expecting you to have such an immediate and visceral reaction to the sight of him. Bucky’s no stranger to flirty glances, but he saw that glint in your eyes, and he knows it; it’s the same one he had when he saw you. When he heard you get up behind him, he hoped it was because you were going to introduce yourself (not that he needed your name, but that seemed like an easier way to go about it) but when the sound of your footsteps didn’t speed up or die down, he knew you were following him. Bucky’s obsession with your started when you’d sweetly bought a cake in a cute bakery, and you just screamed innocence to him right off the bat. Now, well, maybe you’re not so innocent in your own eyes, but, if anything, you’re a little naïve to him, and he finds it adorable.

***

The next day you head back over and sit in your car for a little bit, waiting for him to come out, but you get an opportunity just as good. The mailman comes around with probably some junk mail, and you hop out your car, pretending you were entering your own building. When he opens the door, you stop him.

“I’m just going in, don’t worry, I can take it from you,” you say with a friendly smiles. He thanks you for helping him on his long route as he hands you a few letters and magazines: junk. You wave him goodbye as you step in and the door falls shut behind you.

“Do you live here?” a voice asks, and you startle as you turn to security seated behind a desk.

“No! I’m just volunteering a little on the mail route,” you smile at him, innocently, and raising the pitch of your voice to appear sweeter, “And I’m sorry, I just need a little help getting it into the right boxes.

“Well, I can do it for you,” he offers, but you shake your head.

To avoid suspicion you offer, “Well, there’s five floors, you can do floors one and two and I’ll do three and up.” You counted that the man you’re obsessed with lives on the fourth floor.

He agrees and you get to work putting mail where he tells you each person and their door number.

“James B Barnes?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You had done a few on his floor and asked a little about each, but most of them were either women or people living together, and you knew he had to live alone, he seems really reserved and to himself, likes the quiet.

“James? I don’t know a James…” you frown as he furrows his brows in thought, but suddenly he snaps his fingers and smiles, “Ah, Barnes! That’s Bucky, 4D, really keeps to himself.”

Bucky. But you have to make sure it’s the right person.

“I see,” you say as you gently place letters in a box on the fourth row marked with the letter D, “You don’t know much about him?”

“Nah, only that he’s really into gloves, never see him without ‘em, even in scorching hot weather.”

The man you saw yesterday was wearing gloves, even though it wasn’t really cold. That has to be him.

It takes a while to fill up the rest as you try to keep friendly conversation going to not appear suspicious. When you’re finally done, he goes back to scribble something down on a piece of paper.

“You know, he says as he finishes it off, “If you’re going to be coming down this way for a while, you should have the building code, make it easier for you,” he hands you the piece of paper with a smile.

“Thank you!” you say, a little too eagerly as you read the code: 8496, “I’m often busy with work so I’m not sure how many days I can be here,” you sulk, “But I’ll try come in every once in a while, count on it.”

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, apartment 4D, you’re getting somewhere.

You’ve started to notice that you’ve been so distracted lately you’ve been misplacing items; a t-shirt you thought was in your cupboard would end up on the floor, a few of your bras seem to have disappeared, and you can’t find random notes you’ve written and placed throughout the house. But it’s fine, once you have him you can deal with all that: none of that is as important as Bucky.

You’ve always been a bit of a loner, but the next two weeks you spend talking to no one, not even responding to work emails as you stalk Bucky. You’ve managed to sneak in a few times (he doesn’t lock his door) and grab some of his stuff—you even wear his t-shirts sometimes, absolutely intoxicated by his scent—snap a few pictures for memories. Following him around, you find that you were right: he is more of a loner; he hardly talks to anyone, he’s got two friends, Sam and Steve, who he sees maybe once a week for drinks, but that’s it.

On a Friday night, you snap: you have to have him.

***

Bucky is in the middle of taking a sip of beer, watching Sam and Steve laugh at his deadpan joke, when he gets a notification on his phone. It’s a specific sound he has just for the cameras in his house, tells the guys it’s security, and they get it, they think Bucky is a little paranoid from his past, but if anything, his past makes him more comfortable to being exposed to attack, he knows he can take them, and no one with half a brain cell would try a serious-looking well-built man.

He manages to excuse himself for the night, but not without a little protest from Steve and Sam. To get out of explaining himself, he places money on the table for the men to get another round on him, and they cheer as he exits the bar.

Outside in the dark, he opens the app and turns his phone landscape to swipe through the multiple cameras set up in his house to get to the one where you are. Of course you’re in his bedroom; he’s noticed you’ve been stealing some of his clothes, once even a pair of his boxers, and so he moved your stuff to a better hiding spot. From watching you, it didn’t even seem like you noticed your things going missing, that or you didn’t care, but he knew you weren’t as attentive as you thought. Once he literally followed you in his car just to see how far he could go and you didn’t pay it any mind, walking through your neighbourhood as normal—though, granted, you did have your earphones in.

Excitement ripples down Bucky’s spine and he can’t help but smile at the screen as he notices you ducking behind his bed. Really? Behind his bed? Not even in the closet? He bites his lip to prevent himself from laughing, but not in a malicious way, in an adoring way, that you really are committed to this, but not as committed as he is. He’s seen the chloroform, baseball bat and ropes you bought, you’ve been planning it for a little, but nothing could prepare you for him.

He has to stop himself from full on sprinting down the road to get back home. He does to want to show up sweaty and panting, so he tries with all his might to make it casual stroll. He makes sure to slam the front door behind him so you know he’s here, and he sighs loudly as he shrugs off his jacket before tossing it onto the couch. Maybe it’ll spook you too much if he went straight to his bedroom, so he goes to the bathroom first to freshen up a bit, give you time to really think this through, maybe you’ll change your mind. Not that he’ll change his.

His bedroom door is closed, which he finds a little cute because he knows he left it slightly ajar, but you didn’t really take that into consideration. When he enters, he turns to close the door behind him, giving you time to sneak up and hit him over the head with a bat.

He falls, pretends he’s been knocked out, as if a bat could take him out; he’s been punched through walls and barely flinched before getting back up to fight. It takes a lot in him to stop himself from smiling as he feels you lift him from under his armpits and drag him onto the bed. It takes a bit, but once he’s lying down, you puff out a breath and wipe your brows; that was a bit of a workout for you, but for him… how easy it would be to manhandle you.

He hears you shuffling and feels harsh rope chafe against his skin as you wrap a piece around his ankle, not nearly tight enough, and he thinks it’s because you don’t want to hurt him, which is sweet. You’re just so sweet.

Once you’ve ‘secured’ his ankles and wrists, he waits a few moments before he pretends to stir, coming to consciousness. He puts on a confused and scared look as he notices you at the edge of the bed, as if he hasn’t been dreaming about this for the longest time. As soon as your eyes meet his, he can hear the near whisper, swoon-like sigh you give. Bucky has never considered himself too attractive, doesn’t pay much mind when someone is attracted to him, neither gives him an ego boost or knocks him down a notch, but you, the way you’re so affected by his presence has his heart rate picking up.

“You’re just so beautiful,” you breathe, “Bucky.”

Bucky tightens his fists to prevent himself groaning at the sound of his name falling from your lips, and he’s struggling even more now to restrain himself, wanting to fuck you so hard that’s all you can say, just broken sobs of his name as you come over and over, legs trembling around his waist…

“I’m sorry,” you apologise as you stand.

The corner of his lip twitches, and he can tell you’ve noticed, but that scared face he’s putting on for your benefit quickly takes over his expression as you climb over him. He wants to beg you to stop, maybe give you a little more time to feel in control, but it’s been a while now, and he can’t help the chuckle that slips past his smiling lips.

You look up from his crotch to see him full-on laughing now, not necessarily deranged, but laughing like you’ve told him a genuinely funny joke. You sit back on him carefully as you watch this odd behaviour, that really unsettles you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologies, still with a smile on his face as he shakes his head, “It’s just… come on, now. You’re adorable, but what is this, amateur hour?”

You don’t really have time to take in his giggly response to being ostensibly held captive before he easily pulls himself free of the restraints. You gasp and grab hold of his waist as he grabs hold of your hips, easily pinning you underneath him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Trying to contain his amusement, he drops his head to hide his smile, but can’t hide it away again when he looks back down at you.

“Two weeks?” he breaths over you, his tone not mocking, but near incredulous, “Try two months, sweetheart. I’ve seen your internal conflict, knowing what you were doing is wrong but not being able to stop, huh?”

He raises an eyebrow with his question and you gulp and look down from his eyes to through his legs.

“Where do you think all your shit’s being going? Things don’t just disappear, touches aren’t always just dreams. And listen,” he brings a hand up from your waist to gently tap your cheek, signalling for you to look back at him, and you do, “I’ve enjoyed playing this little game with you, but I’ve been waiting too long for this now to let you have all the fun.”

You gasp as he ducks his head to press a gentle yet possessing kiss to your neck, grasping onto his hair to keep his mouth against your pulse. He smiles against you, and you take a deep breath in as you turn your head to allow him more space, gently tugging him downwards as you listen to his soft kisses and feel the loving stroke of his fingers on your inner thigh. His gentleness soon turns a little more rushed, like he’s desperate; he lets out a choked groan as he grinds his tightening jeans against your thigh, which you return with a moan of your own, pulling his head from your neck which he at first tries to fight, so lost in the taste of your skin, the quickening rise and fall of your chest against his, your sighs of his name, but he reluctantly pulls away, only to be immediately pulled down to your face as you crash your lips against his. He can tell you’re eager by the way you shift your thighs every once in a while, but he knows there’s fear in the trembling fingers that hold him against you.

Once his tongue slides into your mouth, you know it’s over, unable to stop yourself from draping your arm over his neck so he’s as close to you as possible.

“Bucky…” you moan against his mouth, rolling your hips against him.

“Fuck,” he rasps.

You desperately claw at the waistband of his jeans, and he smiles as he pulls away and sits up to take in your flushed cheeks; he’s hardly touched you and you’re already pleading, “Please, please, please.” He’s sure by now the only words you can get out are ‘fuck,’ ‘please,’ or ‘Bucky,’ and he can’t quite decide which is his favourite one… Definitely his name.

“It’s coming, sweetheart,” he says as he undoes his belt, “Hold on.”

It’s no task for him to pull off your pants as you arch your hips, and he really can’t help but smirk to himself as he notices the dark patch on your underwear when he slides it off next.

He props himself up as he slowly pushes into you, grunting at how good you feel. You moan and Bucky rewards the sweet sound by hiking up your thigh to hit you deeper. You cry out as he bottoms inside you, digging your nails into his back and squeezing your eyes shut, cunt tightening around him, too.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as he pulls back and pushes into you again. Your hands move to grasp onto his shoulders, and if you’re pushing him off, he doesn’t notice it, letting out a whimper when he hits your spot again, your fingers grasping onto him for dear life.

He tried to keep slow, but he hurries a little, fucking addicted to feeling you, so lost he’s letting pathetic noises fall from his lips as he pushes into you each time, making sure to give praises of, “Fuck, that’s good, you’re so good, fuck,” between harsh breaths, and you can reply with nothing but whines and moans under him.

When he feels your legs begin to tremble, he pulls the one over his waist further back, hitting you even deeper, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head, and this time he feels your nails break into his skin.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” is all you can get out as he hovers over you.

“You gonna come, sweetheart? You can do that, fuck, please, please come for me.”

If the feeling of his cock wasn’t enough to drive you over the edge, his pleads and whines do it; you let out a broken sob of his name as you clench down on him, orgasm ripping through you better than in all your fantasies.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, that’s good, ‘m gonna come in you now, okay?”

And it doesn’t take long, a few more thrusts and he releases himself inside of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a long groan of your name. When his breathing has slowed slightly, he raises himself to look down at you, and he doesn’t think he could deny himself another round, whether you want it or not.

✪

[taglist; @cjand10, @pr30087, fill out this form if you’d like to be added!]

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark bucky x you #yandere bucky barnes #dark!avengers #dark avengers #request

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cheritzteam · 1 year ago

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[MM] Announcement on Birthday Event for V and Thanksgiving, 2023 September

Hello, this is Cheritz.

The cool breeze blowing through the sweltering heat reminds us that fall is on its way!

This summer has been unusually hot and humid, and it seems to have lasted longer than usual.

Did you have a good summer this year >_<?

With the return of cooler weather comes his birthday, and guess who?

It's V’s birthday!

And this birthday, he's coming on Twitter to ask a very important question.

If you're ready to answer V's questions, check out the announcement below for more details ~ 😉

< ① V Birthday Event : September Relationship Question >

V is back from a long trip. Dealing with the pain of the past and starting a new chapter, he's got a lot on his mind lately.

How can he become a better lover?

He asked RFA members, but he's more confused by the variety of answers he got. 😵

After all, there's no substitute for asking you directly, right?

What do you want from your lover in a relationship?

Help V nurture his precious relationship with you.

Share your story on social media using the hashtag #MM_Relationship_Question, and try your chances to win 300 ⌛ hourglasses!

We're also celebrating V’s birthday with a bonus giveaway!

Use the hashtag #Happy_Birthday_V to wish him a happy birthday, and try your chances to win 50 hourglasses⌛ as a reward!♥

Last but not least, we're having a birthday sale on some V merchandise

so if you've been hesitant to purchase, please take advantage★ of this opportunity!

Cheritz Market discounted period : September 6th(Wed), 2PM - September 13th(Wed), 2PM (KST)

< ② Game-Access Event >

If you access the game during the event below, you'll see a commemorative title image for the V’s birthday! Enjoy the game with the new title image and wish V a happy birthday.

Also, don’t forget to claim the access reward for Thanksgiving!

Title Illustration : September 6th(Wed) - September 19th(Tue)

Thanksgiving Access Reward : September 28th(Thur) ~ September 30th(Sat)

Did you enjoy the announcement of September events?

We would like to thank you in advance for joining us for V’s Birthday Event and Thanksgiving Event.

As always, we wish you a happy September!

Thank you!

Cheritz.

#mysticmessenger #mysme #mm #cheritz #MM_Relationship_Question #Happy_Birthday_V

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zgvlt · 2 years ago

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sending your crush a survey form hcs part 4 second years x reader (separate) -> kalim, jamil, silver

general tags: gn reader, fluff + attempt at humor, sfw, not beta read, mix of text and images (for images, alt text/image description available)

other parts in this series

character: KALIM AL-ASIM premise/trope: sending your best friend a crush form. it's mutual but everybody... sort of just assumed that the two of you were already dating already

HOW HE (AND JAMIL) REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

Kalim's amused by many things, music one of the more significant interests he has. So, when he learned that he could customize the ringtones and notification sounds he has for all of his friends, he spends a lot of time assigning a tune for each person in his life.

It's why he immediately jumps up and searches for his phone when he hears the song he specifically chose for you.

Jamil gets it for him the second he recognizes the song playing because he's heard it so much it's ingrained in his memory.

(Kalim does not mute his phone unless specifically asked to. Usually for emergency purposes but Jamil doubts messaging you 24/7 qualifies as such).

Jamil checks the message briefly to make sure you're not getting hacked (it said you sent over a link and, well, there's been an increase in MagiCam accounts getting hacked lately...)

Jamil wishes he never checked it. When he gives Kalim his phone, he wants to walk away immediately. He does NOT want to be on the receiving end of the gushing, no way, absolutely not.

Even if it is a little cute, like some kind of fairy tale that he might have liked in his youth, he just wants to have some peace, and peace did not include Kalim yapping about how lovely and cool and amazing he thought you were.

Kalim's talking about how much he loves you and Jamil's immediate instinct is to sigh and ask why he won't tell you instead. You're his significant other or some other label anyway, right?

Kalim blinks in confusion, his fingers pausing the sticker spam he was inevitably doing.

"We're not dating though?" Kalim says. Jamil pops a blood vessel. "I wish we were! We could go on all sorts of cool dates, we could go visit my family, and then..."

Jamil tells him they literally already do that. They go on cool dates all the time. His family knows who you are (partially his fault, he let them know who Kalim spends all his time with these days, but obviously Kalim's fault for talking about you, too).

Jamil exits the room and tells Kalim to read the questions properly. He also says congratulations in advance.

Kalim's not dumb by any means, so when he realizes what the form is all about he's cheering and giggling to himself, like he wants to get his flying carpet to take a quick ride while, simultaneously, go get his drum kit so he could play his sudden excitement out.

His answers are equally excitable as your questions. Though it's mostly just vibes, he does get some really sweet answers out there about how much he likes you.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Your relationship had been a long time coming... At least, that was how you and Kalim saw it. The two of you were so intertwined in each other's lives that spending your futures together just made sense.

For everyone else, they had thought the relationship was already there in the first place, so imagine their surprise when Kalim announces that there was going to be a party, a party to celebrate his new relationship, with you as the guest of honor.

They call Jamil a traitor for not telling them you and Kalim hadn't actually been dating all this time. Jamil wants to explain that even he didn't know, but he decides it's more fun to pretend he was the outlier who knew the truth all along.

He's planning a celebration for you, actively participating in the creation and setting up process because it's important to him that you would enjoy. He's taking into account what food and drinks you enjoy, how much people you want to attend and who should be in attendance, the music you want playing, even the colors of the decorations.

Initially, he wanted the party to be a surprise but he can't resist calling you. He wants this to be a perfect gift for you! He has to make sure you like each and every thing, so he calls you every few minutes to ask about even the tiniest of details.

It also probably helps that he just... really likes talking and listening to you.

Speaking of talking... While he keeps many of the specifics to himself, he's also talking about how nice and great and cute you are for confessing to him that way. It becomes the talk of the dorm, and Jamil won't be surprised if it becomes the modern day love story of their homeland.

Kalim's the one who seeks you out too, picking you up from wherever you said you were to bring you back to the dorm. He's so excited that he's (finally!) your partner!

The two of you spend a few minutes gushing about each other, and then he says,

"Alright, let's go!" He pulls you along with him, grasping your hand in his. "Let's celebrate the start of our love together!"

character: JAMIL VIPER premise/trope: sending your boyfriend, who you miss very much and is very busy, a crush form to remind him that your feelings have not waned one bit

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

You're wonderful to him, really, so you have the decency to send the link a little later into the evening, around the time you know he'd have less chores to do, more academics in turn. It's a time you know he'll allow himself to check his phone, and you know your message will go read.

You tell him you don't have to open the link immediately, to only do it when he's free.

Jamil sees the form file name and title and, well, he thinks it's time for him to wrap up his evening immediately. If he's to abide by your request, that is, to answer the form when he missed you... That would mean answering as soon as possible.

JAMIL : I don't know how to react. Should I call you corny or sweet for pulling a stunt like this?

He tells you that, but the reality is that his body has already decided how to react for him. His face feels too warm for comfort (which says a lot, considering he's rather used to the heat already).

He's hiding his face with his hood on the way to his room, and even when he's in the privacy of his quarters he can't help but want to cover up his face a little longer.

Conflicted between immediately getting back to you (at least, sending in his answers before you go to sleep) and preparing for bed, he ultimately decides to save the best for last, getting his heart to calm down as he undoes his hair and takes off his jewelry.

When he reads through the questions, he goes from being ready to pass out to doing leg kicks in bed and burying his face in his pillow (because he changed from his uniform, therefore no more hood).

Jamil answers the questions a little bluntly (with some quips aimed towards you here and there), but since it's something private, something he's sure you won't share with anyone else, he's comfortable giving you the affection you seek (and which he, too, misses giving and receiving).

(He also, just, has a thing for imagining you as flustered as you make him, so he likes to flirt a little bit. Oops 😊😁🤭)

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Morning come, everybody notices that Jamil is in SUCH a good mood, so good he can't even hide it.

It's surprising that he's acknowledging anyone at all considering, upon closer inspection, Jamil's eyebags looked... well, noticeable. Especially since he hadn't put on any makeup yet.

Kalim's usually the mood maker in Scarabia, but Jamil's genuine smiles are infectious, and soon enough everyone else is smiling, too, even so early in the morning.

Though they do wish he would talk to them a little bit more instead of spending his time on his phone (another rarity), but overall they're just happy that Jamil is happy.

(They all consider making some kind of prayer or offering to the Sevens now. Whatever or whoever is making their vice dorm leader having a wonderful morning, may it continue to do so forever)

As for Jamil... He knows he spent a good amount of time talking to you last night, but upon waking his natural instinct is to greet you immediately.

You're his treasure, his love, so if he goes to sleep thinking of you instead of dreading the morning come, and wakes thinking of you instead of the pile of work he'll inevitably face, who can really blame him for being visibly content?

JAMIL : I know I said I'd be too busy this week to commit to a date, but I don't think I can wait that long to see you. JAMIL : I'll find an excuse for Kalim, so... JAMIL : Shall we go on a date tonight?

character: SILVER premise/trope: sending Silver the form should have been relatively uneventful... if not for his well-meaning but nosy family

HOW HE (and the rest of Diasomnia) REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

The thing is... Silver's asleep when you send the link. That's not your fault of course, nor is it is. However, the two of you just have the most unfortunate timing. Maybe you shouldn't have sent multiple follow up messages, then it would not have alerted anyone else.

Silver's phone has multiple beeps and, well, his fae companions are a little more sensitive to sound than others. It's inevitable that they'd either be annoyed or intrigued by the constant notifications.

Sebek just wanted to mute it, really! However, the screen lights up when he puts it in front of his face, and he sees your name, and he instinctively says it out loud, and then it's all over.

Lilia and Malleus are taking peeks at the small device as well, trying to make sense of the cut-off previews of each message you sent.

Sebek is... trying to be a good person so he's doing that thing where he covers his face with his hand, but leaves a gap between his fingers for him to read the texts.

They want to wake up Silver because SILVER'S LOVE LIFE IS ON THE LINE WHAT IF YOU DELETE YOUR MESSAGES AND DECIDE YOU REGRET YOUR (admittedly unique) CONFESSION.

Lilia's talking about taking one for the team and he activates the face recognition unlock on Silver's phone. He's not going to look through what you sent or anything (yet) but he does send you a text to let you know that Silver's still asleep and to not worry about why he's not responding.

Well, that stops the message influx.

Ironically, it's the silence that wakes Silver up, and he's immediately suspicious when he sees three fae crowd over his cellphone.

When he finds out you've been sending texts he's very apologetic to have kept you waiting, and when he realizes just what you sent he's extra apologetic... and flustered. Not only did you send him such a thing, but his father, Malleus, and Sebek all got a glimpse of it, too.

SILVER : I'm sorry for taking so long. I feel asleep again. SILVER : I have control of my phone now, in case you were worried about... the others being overly curious again. SILVER : I'll answer what you sent and get back to you as quickly as I can.

Silver's answers are serious and straight to the point, but not to the point that it lacks affection. Rather, he manages to weave in his perception and feelings for you rather seamlessly.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

He just meant to let the trio outside his room (he knows they're there, they are not being very discrete) know that he was going to meet up with you for a little bit, maybe talk about the next steps of any relationship you could cultivate in person.

However, they're bombarding him with apologies for snooping (he's already forgiven them, honestly) and questions about whether he's finally having his first romance.

Even Sebek, once he says his piece about making sure to allocate enough time for training and academics, gets pretty into it.

Silver clarifies that he's going to meet up with you specifically to discuss what the two of you should do with your mutual feelings, and then they're talking about what courtship offering he could give and what attire he should wear and what song he could perform ad he loves them, really, but it's a little bit too much.

He lets them know he'll leave as he is and that he'll be back for dinner. Lilia jokes that he should cook something special for the occasion and to bring you along to dine with them.

He runs before he can be pressured into agreeing. Malleus and Sebek look like they want to join him instead of facing Lilia's cooking.

You're talking to a bird when he sees you. The sight makes Silver smile.

"The birds have a great eye. Those colors suit you," Silver says. He makes sure the stem has no thorns before he tucks it between your ear. "Perhaps the forest critters have taken a liking to you, too."

masterlist | end notes

[ 1 ] Compared to the previous crush forms (aside from Floyd's), these ones sort of have the theme of getting people involved in the process. I feel like if I were to make or receive one, I would be sharing them or letting my friends take a look, so it felt realistic enough to have some characters actually tell people about the form and not just keep it to themselves

[ 2 ] I don't think I have to say this, but don't violate people's privacy with their phone in real life HAHAHAHA this is for plot purposes only

< special tags >

@merotwst here bestie ito na yung tag mo HAHAHAHA surry napatagal ng post hihi

If anyone wants to be tagged for when a specific character's form gets posted feel free to let me know :> I can tag you too

#twst x reader #twst silver x reader #silver x reader #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #twst headcanons #twst hcs #twisted wonderland x reader #nathya twst writing #twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst silver #jamil viper #kalim al asim

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