#I Almost forgot to add the bunny hair thing!!! D:

[greasy-night-rat]

[Generic Complement that addresses Joe directly]

[100 compliments later]

[100th, "It's cute how hard you're trying not to smile"]

Joe: "AAA !!! STOP ! S'IL VOUS PLAÎT ! ASSEZ !!!"

[AAA!!! STOP! PLEASE! ENOUGH!!!]

[amandaoftherosemire]

Cuddled Up -- One-shot

Fandom: Marvel  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.011

Format: One-shot

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit content, language, fluff, smut, flut/smuff

Summary: Despite his reputation as both terrifyingly lethal and legendarily surly, you know an entirely different Bucky Barnes. One lazy afternoon, after you’d been separated for a while, things get steamy while cuddled up in your bed.

A/N: This was a request in my ask box oh so many months ago. I think @-hiddlesdweeb- was looking for a cute little drabble, but the plot bunny ran away with me and it turned into a full on smutty one-shot. I hope that’s okay? :D

Dating Bucky Barnes left you privy to all sorts of secrets. Some of them were serious, like when he’d confided in you about the things he'd done when held captive by HYDRA. Most were harmless, like you knew that Captain America was the messiest human being you'd ever met who was not actively trying to breed a new form of mold (college friend, weird dude). You knew that Falcon tended to anthropomorphize things and loved it that you went along with him on it, petting any number of objects at his request. You also knew that if the Black Widow could be coaxed into over imbibing, she could also be coaxed into singing, in a surprisingly sweet voice, old Russian folk songs (and Bucky could be coaxed with cuddles into translating for you).

Because that was the biggest secret, though it was undoubtedly the least dangerous secret of all time: Bucky Barnes was a champion cuddler.

You weren't sure you could tell the secret if you wanted to, so at odds with his public image and reputation was the reality of Bucky in private. You were certain that no one other than the very few people who knew him best would even believe you should you try to describe the way he seemed nearly addicted to the feel of your skin. He was almost aggressive in his need to be touching you at all times. As long as you were alone, you were snuggled in some way against him.

As far as you knew it was still a secret, too. Although Bucky wasn't cold or aloof when you were together in public, he was extremely discreet, with many of the mannerisms and concerns about propriety with which he'd been raised. He was affectionate, holding your hand or putting an arm around your shoulders, but he always kept every touch carefully chaste. In public.

In private, he would only stop touching you if you stopped him. Not that you tried very hard or very often. Still, cooking dinner was less than easy with a six-foot tall well-muscled super soldier wrapped around you, so sometimes you had to put your foot down. You always made it up to him, because you understood where it was coming from.

You understood that Bucky had a skin hunger more profound than you could possibly imagine. No human is built to withstand the trauma he'd endured, and the decades of physical isolation, only touched either to give pain or receive it, or with the cold impersonality of doctors and scientists, had left deep psychological scars. He needed physical affection more than anyone you'd ever known. You were only too happy to oblige, though lately it had been getting more and more difficult to do so.

Because although you'd slept twined around Bucky dressed in next to nothing several times a week for months, the two of you had never been more physically intimate than those full body cuddles and frequent heated make out sessions. He'd told you he needed time, and when he'd confessed it in a whisper, you could see he had been terrified you'd reject him. That night you'd taken him into your bed for the first time, starting a habit of sleeping together whenever possible. To your surprise, you both slept better pressed against the other. You could wait for the rest; you were certain he was worth waiting for.

That didn't mean that you weren't going quietly insane, however. You spent much of your time skin to skin with the sexiest man you'd ever met, how could you not be going insane? Every time you were alone with him, it was getting harder and harder to restrain yourself from rubbing all over him like a cat in heat. Hell, every time you were alone with yourself you were making do with your vibrator and fantasies of riding that big sexy body until you forgot your own name. Only the knowledge that he needed better from you kept you from giving in and begging.

"You have that look on your face." Bucky's voice was a rumble, vibrating in his chest and into yours, setting your heart skipping and your breath catching.

Careful to control yourself, you took a halting breath, then a steadier one before you answered. "Which look?" You were murmuring, your voice low and inviting. You couldn't help it; when you were this close to Bucky your body betrayed both your good intentions and common sense. The two of you were laying side by side, facing one another, your head resting on the pillow on top of Bucky's vibranium arm. Your legs were tangled together, and his flesh arm was firmly wrapped around you, pressing you as close to his chest as possible, his lips a breath from yours.

Bucky stalled a moment by nuzzling into your neck with a grumble of approval. The scent there in the soft hollow under your ear where your jaw met your neck was delicious. He never passed up an opportunity to bury his face there. He was delighted to find himself with ample opportunity as you'd taken him to your bed as soon as he'd arrived. He knew why you'd done so; you'd known how much he'd needed it. He hadn't seen you in almost a week, something nearly unheard of since the day he'd met you.

"You look…" Hungry, Bucky thought, but kept the word to himself as he didn't know how you'd react should he say something so blatant. "Thoughtful," he said instead. He cursed inwardly, wanting to ask you if you were as ready as he to become more intimate. He'd been dying to fuck you since he first laid eyes on you, but he'd needed time to reacclimate to being… human. He hadn't known how quickly he'd become comfortable with you. He hadn't known how your warmth and understanding would help him heal. He hadn't known how quickly he'd start to ache for you.

You had been simply perfect. There really was no other word for it. You'd accepted him without judgement or condemnation. You'd given him a safe place to rest, where he could remember who he was, who he had been, where he could figure out who he wanted to be. You'd been so easy with the arrangement, in fact, he had begun to wonder if you preferred it. The only reason he hadn't asked to make love to you yet was his fear that to add a sexual dynamic would ruin what you already had.

“I was thinking about how fucking pretty you are," you whispered, and the longing in your voice seemed to seep beneath Bucky's skin, his body heating and yearning toward yours.

Not certain he wasn't hearing only what he wanted to, he grinned at you and leaned forward to kiss you gently. His plump, pink lips were impossibly soft and infinitely tender as they brushed oh so gently against yours. These soft kisses and warm embraces were heaven. Nearly a religious experience, laying under the soft cloud of your comforter, your velvet skin sliding against his, Bucky felt cleansed by your touch. The feel of your body resting, pressing against him, seemed to seep into him, the simple act of trusting him with your soft form like a balm on his soul.

Bucky kept kissing you, but he let his mouth wander over the corners of your mouth, your cheeks, eyelids. You giggled at the tickle of his beard when he started feathering his mouth over the line of your jaw, nuzzling into your neck. He pressed his mouth to your pulse, letting it rest there to feel your heartbeat.

His flesh hand started rubbing slowly up and down your spine, pressing you close with every pass. You snuggled closer, sighing as you ran your hand up over his neck and into his hair. He had occasionally mentioned cutting it, but you loved the feel of the smooth, soft locks running through your fingers. He practically purred whenever you combed your hands through his hair, only encouraging you. That sexy rumble haunted your dreams; you were desperate to find out how else you could elicit that delicious sound.

Bucky was having a hard time not moaning aloud. He loved it when you ran your hands through his hair. On days when it wouldn't stay out of his eyes no matter how strictly he tied it back the only thing that stopped him from taking his combat knife to it was the memory of how your fingers felt gently tugging at the roots of his hair, your nails scratching over his scalp and sending shivers down his spine. Holding back the shameless sound, keeping it to a growl in his throat, left him feeling edgy and needy.

He let his hand drift down, brushing down past the small of your back. Your breath caught as that hand drifted back up and under your tank top. The feel of his hot palm skimming over your skin sent chills rushing out from that warmth through your limbs and into your fingertips. You let out that caught breath in a shuddering rush and rubbed your cheek against Bucky's temple.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your neck, his soft lips moving against your skin. You tilted your head back to give him better access. He took immediate advantage, nuzzling closer in.

"Yeah," you replied. You were almost ashamed at how breathy and, well, needy you sounded. If he was less sexy or his body less stimulating, you might have been. As it was, you gave in and moved to rub yourself lightly against him, your hands tightening in his hair.

Bucky bit back a groan. Your body was lush and smooth and beautiful, and he adored every moment he spent tangled in your limbs. His arm tightened around you, his palm sliding up your backbone and pulling your tank top upward. The skin of your stomach and the lower curves of your breasts were bared and pressed against Bucky's muscled abdomen. He hummed and rocked gently against you, reveling in the slide of your skin against his.

You hummed back and stretched against him, only to slide yourself more firmly against his luscious body. "I love your skin. I wonder if it feels as nice all. over." The pause between the words was there to make the invitation clear. You would understand if he wasn't yet ready, but you saw no reason to not make clear your interest in getting more physically intimate.

Oh, thank god, Bucky thought, and figured there was no reason he shouldn’t take you up on what sounded like the most exciting offer he’d ever been given. His mouth opened against the skin of your neck and he began placing gentle kisses at your pulse point. He felt your heart rate kick up against his mouth and moved his hand down your back and ass, molding and squeezing your flesh until he reached your leg.

You were already breathing hard at the feel of Bucky’s hand moving over your bare skin with what felt like desire when his big, calloused hand curled under your thigh and hitched your leg around his waist. Though you had felt his arousal against you before, he’d never gotten this close. You were painfully aware of how wet you were and knew he had to feel it even through his underwear where his rock-hard erection pressed firmly against your core.

“God, y/n,” Bucky was scraping his teeth over the cords of your neck as his vibranium hand moved to the small of your back to arch you into his mouth. “You think I’m pretty? If you could see how beautiful you are like this…” He broke off to lave your collarbones with his tongue, spurring you to be the first to give in and moan aloud while he set your skin aflame with his talented mouth.

You used your grip in his hair as leverage to rub yourself against him shamelessly. He wanted you; you could hear it in the throb in his voice. That rich tone gave you the courage to offer it all. "Bucky, if you want me, if you're ready, you can have me." Bucky was almost laying on top of you, nestled between your legs, one hand gripping your thigh to lift and open you to him, one arm pressing you upward into his mouth as his lips nudged the edge of your neckline aside to take your nipple into his mouth. You arched and moaned and writhed against him. "I'm yours," you finished, your voice a genuine whine of need.

Bucky couldn't have resisted your siren song had he wanted to. He could hardly wait to be inside you, rocking you both to climax, but he also wanted to savor your slowly, to prolong every moment of the pleasure that came from loving you for the very first time. It was a dilemma. He thought now he shouldn't have waited so long, tempted himself so much. He didn't know if he was capable of taking it slow at this point, his hand on your thigh was squeezing tight and his mouth drawing deeper and deeper on your breast. He had to fuck you. The only thing that could stop him now was you.

That wasn’t happening. You could feel Bucky's flesh hand toying with the lace on the edge of your underwear where your thigh met your ass. It was making you crazy, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. You tightened your leg around his waist and rocked yourself shamelessly against his erection.

Bucky's hand slid under the edge of your underwear to cup your ass and press you even more firmly against him. The feel of his big, warm palm skimming over your bare skin was immediately followed by the grip of his fingers digging into your flesh as his mouth grew more avid over your breasts. You were shuddering with the need to give in to all the dark fantasies you'd had in the last several months, but Bucky's almost agonizingly slow pace held back the rush of passion.

Bucky felt like his desire for you had claws and teeth and were using both to spur him on. It took everything he had to go slowly, to not rush either of you. He'd been dreaming of this day since he met you. He wanted to take his time with you, to savor rather than savage.

What he wanted and what he was capable of, however, were two different things. Your body was undulating against him in an invitation as old as time and Bucky was finding it harder and harder to think clearly, his mind fogged with lust at the taste of you on his lips, at the sight of you warm and glowing with desire.

You were done thinking, as a matter of fact, bringing your hands up and shoving Bucky over onto his back. You climbed atop him, straddling his hips and stripping your disarranged tank top from your body and tossing it away. You stretched out on top of him and wiggled out of your underwear, tossing them aside, too. Watching you remove your clothing with such efficient, impatient motions, Bucky thought you were the most glorious thing he'd ever seen.

Both hands slid up your thighs, over your waist and around your back to draw you gently down, to press your chest against his as he took your mouth once more. With lips and tongues and teeth you devoured one another, your hands starving as they raced over skin dewed with sweat and warm with passion.

You froze as you felt Bucky's hand sliding between your thighs for the first time, holding back the sobs of relief at needs finally fulfilled. "Too fast?" Bucky murmured and began to withdraw. You whimpered in protest and settled yourself more firmly against his hand, rocking lightly.

"Faster, harder, more!" You were about ready to lose your mind. Those calloused fingers were sliding through your soaking wet folds, teasing gently at the notch where your clitoris was nearly begging for his touch. You slid your hands up his body, reveling in the feel of firm muscle under smooth skin, up into his hair. You clenched your fists and tilted his head gently to look deep into those stormy eyes now glowing with lust and something that looked a lot like love. "Bucky," you almost whined, "I need you. I can't stand it."

The next thing you knew, you were on your back. Bucky had rolled you over, bracing himself on the arm he'd tucked under your neck. His flesh hand was still between your legs, one finger dipping into you while his thumb brushed delicately over your clit. You were a moaning mess, your hands, seemingly of their own accord, drifting down over his tight stomach and under the waistband of the boxer briefs he was inexplicably still wearing.

As soon as your hands closed around Bucky's impressive erection, he growled in his throat and slid a second finger into you. You bucked your hips and gasped in response, causing Bucky to drop his forehead to yours and pump his fingers faster. The feel of those long, rough digits sliding in and out of you was delirious and you couldn't stop the near mewls of need and pleasure.

"Babygirl." Bucky straight moaned the word, his will straining against the temptation of your writhing body. Unable to resist, he pulled his fingers from your tight, wet cunt and brought them to his mouth. The taste was even better than he'd imagined, and the sight of him sucking the flavor from his fingertips nearly had you coming on the spot. His eyes burned as they stared into yours, and the lop-sided smile he sent you had your heart fluttering. "I only get one chance to make love to you for the first time. I don't want to rush it."

His hand returned to your clit and began rubbing in gentle circles, slowly. You would ask him to go faster, nearly desperate for your climax at this point, but the utter sweetness wrapped around utter debauchery had your heart stumbling even as your core clenched. The warmth spread out from your chest and heat raced over your skin. You couldn't help but love this lunatic that had invaded your life with all of your heart. The rich emotion twined with the lust and had you clinging more tightly as you rocked against his busy hand.

Lying alongside of you, Bucky could see the length of your bare form, your body seeming to glow in the afternoon sunlight streaming through your bedroom window. Your hand around his cock was driving him crazy, twisting and circling his length, but the sight of your body arching and trembling with your climbing passion was irresistible to him. The only thing he wanted more than to be inside you was to see you coming first. He doubted he'd have to wait very long, and thanked god for it; you, writhing under his hand, whimpering in your throat, was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Lust's teeth had become sabers and the claws talons.

Bucky wasn't wrong, you weren't far from your orgasm. As a matter of fact, you'd have come already had he only moved his fingers a little faster. You hadn't told him because his statement about not rushing it had touched you. If he wanted to take his time, who were you to complain, really?

The first tremors started in your core, clenching around nothing as Bucky's fingers were busy rubbing circles into your clit. The warm tremors shivered out and through your body until your toes and fingers curled into the sheet and your back arched as though drawn steadily upward by a string. Bucky could hardly believe you were real, so gorgeous was the climax of your passion.

You floated down from a deliciously soft orgasm, your body warmed and revved for more. As Bucky gently worked you through the final aftershocks, you relaxed back into the bed with a cat-that-ate-the-canary smugness. Your hand hadn't left Bucky's underwear, and the feel of your hand squeezing around his cock choked off the laugh he'd been about to let loose at the look on your face.

The next thing he knew, you were pushing him back over and pulling at his boxer briefs. This time Bucky couldn't help but laugh at your impatience as he helped you divest him of his underwear. As soon as the two of you were equally naked, you were clambering on top of him. His hands settled on your thighs as you sat up, and the feel of your heated wetness bathing the back of his cock had him arching his neck and groaning aloud. He rocked his hips, sliding through your folds, prompting a hum of approval from him and a gasp of almost pained pleasure from you.

Careful to allow for the sensitivity that followed your orgasm, you leaned forward to fasten your mouth on Bucky's neck, kissing, biting, sucking, enthralled with the salt of his skin as your hands raced over his shoulders, down his arms. Your fingers dug into the muscles of his chest and stomach as you moved to take Bucky's earlobe between your teeth. Your greed, your hunger, seemed to seep beneath his skin, setting his heart racing in exhilaration. The feel of your breath wafting over his ear as you spoke had a shudder of pure need working through him.

"Do you know how many times I've touched myself in this bed, thinking of exactly this?" You felt the shudder and the knowledge that he was as hungry as you only added to the sultry invitation in your tone. Bucky was panting at this point, utterly enthralled with this new aspect of your personality. He hadn't known you could talk dirty, but he was delighted to find out. "I have wanted this big, gorgeous body under me, wanted to ride you into oblivion, since the day I first set eyes on you." Your voice was a raspy whisper and seemed to shiver over Bucky's eardrums, causing goosebumps to erupt all over.

Bucky drew in a quick breath when he felt you tilt your hips, positioning the tip of his cock at your entrance. You lifted your head to look into Bucky's eyes, the normally arctic blue now incandescent. Your nose brushing his as you breathed each other's breath, you moved ever so gently against him, allowing just the barest tip to enter you. Since he didn't want to rush, and now that your orgasm had taken the edge off, you could spend the indefinite future like this, atop the luscious body of the sexiest man on the planet, your skin slick and sliding against his, his hands on your body as you memorized the exact texture of his with yours.

Now, however, Bucky couldn't stand it any longer. He didn't want to rush, true, but the sight of you coming on his hand had him harder than he'd ever been and the sultry wetness bathing his tip was making him frantic. His fingers dug into your hips, tilting them until the head of his cock slipped inside you. You dropped your head like a flower too heavy for its stem and gasped for a moment, the sensation wearing away your willpower.

"Doll," he whispered, and the familiar endearment was unfamiliar in the dark and erotic tone that had taken over his voice. "I need to be inside you. Do you have protection?”

Your breath was coming in shuddering gasps, but you had enough willpower to retort. "What happened to taking it slow?" you asked with a smirk in a voice dark with lust and tight with need. “Already taken care of. We’re both clean and I’m on birth control.”

Bucky flashed a grin so cocky and wicked, you could practically feel yourself getting wetter. You wondered if it was your imagination or if he could feel you aching for him where you rested almost connected, but not quite. "In that case, inside you," he growled. His fingers tightened on your hips and you could feel how badly he wanted to take control and pull you down on to him. "Then slow." He gritted out the last, the cords of his neck taut and signaling the edge of his control.

You loved that you'd brought him to this point, nearly primitive in his need for you. His desire only heightened yours and you decided that his plan was the finest you'd ever heard. With a low moan, you sank down onto him. Though you were soaking wet, it still took care to ease him into you without pain. You went a touch faster than that, the slight rasp oddly delicious.

When he was seated to the hilt, you sat, aching to move, but needing a moment to adjust to the feeling of absolute fullness. You felt taken, claimed, like he had touched places no one else ever had. Your heart was pounding in your chest in both excitement and a joyous kind of terror.

Your breath was coming in quick, irregular little gasps, and Bucky's head cleared slightly from the utter glory of being inside of you. You were like a wet velvet fist clenched around him and it was sheer heaven. However, your breathing was a little too close to panicky for Bucky's liking, and he sat up, folding his legs under you and wrapping your legs around his waist. As soon as your face was close enough, Bucky was taking your mouth with a fervor you'd never had from him before. You fucking loved it.

Lips, teeth, and tongue clashed, and though you were fervent, still you were mostly gentle with one another. Little nips and slow bites added a hint of pleasurable pain. Despite that, every touch, every kiss, every caress transmitted affection. You felt like you were getting lost in a universe of soft sighs and tender touch.

Bucky stopped kissing you, but spoke against your mouth, desperate to maintain that connection. "I know it's cliché. I don't care." Bucky's voice was indignant, as though you were in the middle of an argument and the change in his demeanor gave you whiplash. You pulled back to stare, hurt and confused, into Bucky's face.

What you found there didn't match the tone of his voice, however. He had a soft smile on his face and the heated blue of his eyes was gentle even as it seared. The next words out of his mouth made sense only in context of his expression. Otherwise, they did not compute. "I love you," he said, and his smile beamed out. For the first time, you saw the roguish boy he'd been in the serious man he'd become.

"And I'm not just saying that because being inside you has to be what fucking an angel feels like." His voice had dropped, low and throaty. You were having a minor mental breakdown at all the information he just dumped on you in the middle of a near religious sexual experience. Still, the tone had the expected effect and you clenched around him, causing him to tilt his head back and groan in pleasure.

You couldn't help it, the slight movements of his hips were having a heated effect on you; you began rocking gently, easing Bucky very slightly in and out of your wet, clinging channel. Bucky was gasping when he continued. "I feel like I've loved you forever, like I loved you my whole life, I just didn't know it until I found you."

Your heart was sighing and your mind fogging as you rocked a little faster, a little harder, Bucky's cock sliding a little further out before sliding back home again. "I love you," you sighed, your body undulating against him, rubbing your breasts against his chest, sliding your arms up his muscled back. His vibranium arm came around your back, his hand gripping your hip and pulling you more firmly, more quickly against him. His flesh hand was sliding up your back to cup the back of your head.

"Why does it frighten you?" Bucky whispered as he rubbed his beard against your cheek. He could hear your heart pounding oddly for desire and your gasping breaths still spoke of panic, not passion.

You couldn't answer for a moment, your throat locked closed. So much was pouring through you, emotion, sensation, pleasure, fear, and biggest of all, love, pure and simple. You swallowed and were able to force your throat open long enough to rasp, "It's too much," before all that feeling rose up and blocked your voice once more. You didn't feel like your body was big enough to hold it all, as though if you spoke it would all come streaming out of you, like light.

Bucky slowed the pace but kept rocking gently into you in an oddly soothing rhythm. Rather than feeding the fire, it stoked the embers, and allowed you to adjust to the delicious feel of Bucky inside you. Meanwhile, he was tracing small circles on your back with his fingertips, again oddly soothing, yet arousing. His beard was soft against your face and neck, with just enough scratch to make you imagine how good it would feel on the inside of your thighs.

A surprisingly short time later, your heart was only pounding a little, and this time in pure desire. Your throat was no longer choked with emotion, locking all of it inside. Now that you could answer Bucky, you wanted to be sure and do it right.

"That sounds like soulmates,” you murmured, becoming lost once again in the sensation of Bucky’s body moving against and into you, “and I don't know if I believe in all of that. But I know I won the fucking jackpot, to be in the right place, at the right time, to meet you. If it's all at chance, then I have the best luck.” Your tone was wry, but only a touch against the absolute seriousness underneath.

Bucky's cocky grin flashed again, and you couldn't help but smile back, enraptured by his happiness, enchanted by the knowledge that you caused it.

You couldn't stand it for one second longer.

Your hands raced over him to tangle in his hair, gripping at the roots. You placed your forehead against his and began rocking a little more quickly, but a lot more firmly against him, pulling further away before nearly slamming back down. "Did you know that I use my vibrator every time you leave because being tangled up in you drives me fucking crazy?"

"Fuck, y/n, you're killing me here." Bucky tilted his head and kissed you, muffling your sultry laugh. That laugh turned into a squeal at the feeling of all that muscle bunching beneath you before bursting into action to tumble you over onto your back once more. Rather than his hand, however, it was his hips sliding between your legs as his arms caged you in.

In one fluid motion, Bucky was tilting his hips to slide back inside you in an easy, smooth thrust. Bracing himself on his elbows, he began to thrust into you, both faster and harder, to your delight. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders and back and clung, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Mmm, finally," you murmured, the motion rasping along your nerve endings and leaving you breathless.

Bucky laughed, also a little breathless, you noted smugly, his hair falling around you in a curtain as his bright eyes seared into yours. "If this was what you wanted," he rumbled, and the sound seemed to skim along every inch of skin not already pressed to his, "all you had to do was say so."

"Quit trying to ruin my fun," you teased, your voice muffled against his throat where you were testing the texture of his skin there with your teeth.

The warmth twined around the heat and had Bucky shaking. "If you're trying to make me come like it's my first time, doll, you're on the right track."

The breath of your laugh wafted over Bucky's neck, cool where your mouth had been and sending chills down his spine. Unable to stop himself, near the final edge of his control, his hips began to move even more roughly against you. You responded by tightening around him as you used your legs to rock your hips up into him.

You could feel him rubbing against your walls and the friction was driving you higher and higher. Between both of you adjusting angles and his flesh hand reaching down to cup your ass and hold you up, his hips were driving into you at the perfect angle to rub against the rough patch on your forward wall. The sensation was making you insane.

"Race you?” you asked with your last working brain cell, the delicious rhythm having destroyed the rest. Your eyes fluttered closed and you arched your back to rub your breasts against his chest. You could feel the tiny flutters around him that you knew would soon melt into tingles and moaned softly.

Bucky continued to thrust quickly into you, enchanted by the sight of you taken over by his touch, spellbound by the sound of your pleasure. Nothing in his life so far had enraptured him more thoroughly than this moment, your throaty moan as you found your climax, the feel of your nails sinking into his flesh as you arched against him, the clench of your core in rippling waves as your release crashed over you both and dragged him reluctantly over the edge with you.

He'd wanted to make it last, to love you for hours to make up for the months he'd denied you both, but you were so beautiful in the full flower of your sensuality, your skin glowing and dewed with perspiration, your lips parted to allow moans and gasps of breath out and in.

You were drowning in a sea of sensation. Bucky had continued to thrust into you at that perfect angle and pace, prolonging your orgasm and sending those tingles into convulsions, your hips bucking erratically at the surge of pleasure. Even as you thought you couldn't take any more, Bucky moved even harder and faster against you in short, quick thrusts that made you feel like you were going to lose your mind. You were whining and sobbing, the pleasure on the edge of pain, when you felt him explode inside you. The sensation sent a shudder through you, and Bucky moaned at the feeling of you still rippling and shuddering around him.

The two of you seemed to hang there, suspended, as a number of aftershocks shivered through you and into him. Slowly, your gasping breathing and racing heart returned to normal and you became aware of the weight of the super soldier crushing you into the bed.

He became aware at almost the same moment, alerted by the tiny struggling motions you'd involuntarily and unknowingly begun to make in reaction to your restrained breath. Now that you wanted to breathe more deeply, you'd become aware that you could not, and it was starting to freak you out. Bucky immediately rolled to the side but pulled you into his arms to press as much of his skin as possible against yours, your bodies cooling as your limbs tangled together and you nuzzled into his chest.

You smiled to yourself, sweaty, sticky, kind of needing to pee, and happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You could evidently cross off the worry that sex would ruin the cuddles; you'd gotten addicted to the feel of Bucky's skin against yours. Apparently, Bucky agreed that there was no substitute for cuddles.

But it wasn’t too much later before Bucky’s hands began wandering.

The End

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[honeymoonjin]

makin’ monet - jungkook

A/N: requested by @xilee-reaper​. Jungkook’s interest is peaked when his roommate Taehyung has a collection of fake classic paintings. 2.2k words.

“O Week, baby!”

Jungkook ignores Tae’s cheer as he pokes around his room. Tae had only been in this student accommodation for three days, but his stuff was already all over the place.

Tae had always been a collector; no matter where he went, he was always picking up trinkets and memorabilia like he was a magnet for it.

Now, it seemed, his new obsession were these tiny little canvas squares, painted as miniature imitations of famous paintings. Jungkook picks one up, a mock-up of Monet’s Water Lilies that is accurate down to the smallest detail. There’s no name on the bottom, just a tiny black set of initials.

“God, where did I leave the slides?”

Tae has been rooting around his room for the better part of half an hour, getting ready for a campus party that only he wanted to go to, yet somehow was the one that was now an hour late for, and Jungkook was forced to endure the unpleasant experience of Tae going through every single clothing article to try and find the best outfit.

Jungkook was just in a white t-shirt and worn jeans, but that apparently was too minimalistic for Tae.

He puts down the Water Lilies and moves on. There are six of them on Tae’s bookshelf, and while they’re good, sure, it seems a little excessive. “Hey, Tae,” he calls out to the man who’s head over heels in his closet, waiting for a muffled ‘yeah?’ before continuing. “These little paintings, you made them?”

Tae emerges ass-first from the messy heap of clothes, triumphantly brandishing a pair of Gucci slides. “Nah, ‘course not, I bought them off Y/n.”

Jungkook frowns. The name’s not familiar. “Y/n? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend?”

Taehyung just scoffs, hopping around on one foot as he puts on his shoes. “I don’t, she’s just a friend. If I spot her at the party tonight, I’ll introduce you two.”

Well aware of Tae’s habit of saying things with no intention of actually doing them, Jungkook just hums in affirmation and leaves the paintings on the shelf, itching to finally go out.

The girl, Y/n, apparently wasn’t at the party. Maybe she was, but Taehyung just forgot to introduce her. Either way, the loose end was bothering Jungkook more than he expected. Why was he so curious about this girl? He tried to picture what she was like. Chances are she wasn’t that much like Tae. All of his friends always seemed way different from him, Jungkook included, as if he wanted to be the Regina George of his friend groups at all times.

That did leave a lot of possibility, though, and he found himself asking Tae more and more about this mystery girl, curiosity eating him alive.

She was studying engineering like Jungkook, apparently, so perhaps she was like those cold, logical, hard-ass women he had seen in his classes, but her paintings would suggest otherwise. Tae also mentioned he often hung out with at her place, and she had an impressive collection of videogames that ‘even you would be jealous of, Kook’. So perhaps she was an anti-social nerd that sat on the couch for hours with a controller and a bag of Cheetos, but then Tae never had any interest in hanging out with people that had no interest in hanging out with him.

The more he found out, the less he knew.

Now, Jungkook sits in his first computer lab of the semester. Engineering was a pretty massive discipline, no matter what university you were at, and the giant lecture halls were so packed that you couldn’t really make a lot of friends and get to know people, but there were so many timetable streams of computer labs that each one had broken down to about twenty-five people.

Next to him is a guy with boxy, unflattering glasses, the ones you could never imagine anyone actively choosing to wear, and he seems too plugged in to some anime with extremely endowed women to want to talk to Jungkook.

The seat next to him is vacant when the class starts, but ten minutes in, one of the doors opens and a girl slips in. At first Jungkook assumes she’s in the wrong room, because she looks nothing like the other hundred or so engineering students he had seen so far.

She’s so short she has to go on tiptoes to glance over the computer screens and find a spare seat, wide eyes lighting up on the space to Jungkook’s right.

“And why are you so tardy, madam?”

She pauses in her scurry towards his desk and stares at the lecturer, who is crossing his arms over in an unconvincing show of dominance. “Because I didn’t get here in time,” she answers matter-of-factly. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Jungkook can’t help but quirk his lips into a grin at that, but once she turns back to his direction, he quickly hides it behind his hand, coughing lightly.

The computer lab is hard, way more complicated than anything he had done in high school, and he’s so focused on putting in the right commands that it takes him another twenty or so minutes to look up from his monitor and notice the girl next to him.

He rubs the tiredness from his eyes and stretches back, glancing over at her screen. He pauses, arms still stretched out in the air behind him. “You’ve already finished?” he asks incredulously.

She looks up from where she’s scribbling absentmindedly on a piece of graph paper and stares at him. Once she processes what he said, her eyes widen in realization. “Oh, yeah, I checked it out last night and it was kinda easy, so I figured I’d just do it then.”

Ignoring the fact that he felt a little stupid for struggling so much, he sits up in his chair properly and swivels to face her. “Why are you here, then?”

She grins cheekily and cocks her head to the lecturer’s desk, where he’s overseeing the lab like a sergeant. “The general ambience, you know.”

Jungkook laughs, eyes glancing down for a moment. He blinks a couple times and realizes that her scribbles are actually quite good, and in fact familiar. “Café Terrace at Night?”

She cocks her head at the sudden change of topic. “Huh? Oh, right! How did you know?” She sighs. “I’ll be honest, I’m a little sad that I couldn’t pass it off as my own.”

Computer lab forgotten, he begins swaying back and forth on his chair lazily, bumping knees with her every swing. He notes with a little burst of happiness that she makes no attempt to move away from the contact. “I saw a Van Gogh recently. Not a real one, though,” he adds quickly upon seeing the impressed look on her face.

Wait a minute. He glances down at her half of the desk again and sees a haphazard pile of textbooks and refill she had brought in with her. On the spine of Introduction to Mechanical Engineering is the name Y/N, in sharpie-d all-caps.

His mouth falls open in a perfect o, and he points dumbly at the textbooks. “You’re Y/n!”

She bites on her lip, glancing back and forth between her books and him. “Yeah?”

“My friend, Taehyung, he’s got a bunch of your paintings in his dorm room.”

Her eyes brighten in realization. “Ah, Kimmy! Small world, huh.” She glances down at her drawing, eyes distant and unfocussed. She takes a deep breath and looks back up at him, twiddling her thumbs. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in buying one?”

Jungkook tips his head. “Buying one?”

She frowns, and Jungkook can’t help but stare at her delicate pout. “Well, I’m not giving them away for free! They take hours of hard work and I-”

“That’s- That’s not what I meant,” he clarifies hurriedly, “I just didn’t realize you were, like, selling them selling them.”

Her pout tips up into a soft smile, and she raises her eyebrows in good humor. “Well, this is the first time we’ve met, so it’s unsurprising that you don’t know everything about me.” She pauses. “In fact, I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh! Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Well it’s nice to finally meet the man Kimmy has never once mentioned,” she jokes. When Jungkook furrows his brows and looks a little put out, she laughs and pushes him a little on the shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, idiot! He talks about you all the time. Kookie, right?”

He flushes at the embarrassing nickname but nods in assent.

“Anyway, I used to just make the paintings as a hobby, but I’ve been in a little…financial strife recently, so I’m trying to use them as a little extra income.”

Jungkook sobers. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Y/n laughs again, and the joyous tone causes something to spark in Jungkook. “Oh, no, no, don’t be sorry. I’m just being dramatic, I guess. I let my bunny out of the hatch, and he chewed the cord of my roommate’s headphones. They were pretty expensive ones, so now Yoon’s taken mine hostage until I can save up enough to replace them.” Her gaze turns inward, and she sighs. “Although now I can’t game without him biting my head off about the volume.” She clears her throat and shrugs, cheering up again. “Anyway, if you don’t want to buy one, that’s all good, just thought I’d ask.”

Jungkook leans back in his chair slightly and tips his head back, shaking his hair out of his face. He’s pleased when he sees her swallow and stick her tongue out subconsciously to wet her lips. “No, I’ll buy one,” he counters, “anything to help out with a fellow gamer’s plight.”

Maybe the subtle plug wasn’t so subtle, but her face lights up nevertheless. Over the remaining fourteen minutes of the lab, Jungkook’s computer eventually goes to sleep, as they spend the whole time discussing which servers had the best graphics, and how many times it took them to beat a final boss.

Once the clock strikes ten to the hour, almost all of the students rush to log off and gather their stuff, but Jungkook is in no hurry. Y/n is hunched over his outstretched arm, writing her number on his hand with a pen.

The tickle of the pen sets his nerves alight, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of her hand keeping his steady, and the wrist resting on his as she wrote. He laughs to try and distract himself from just how much his heart was racing from her close proximity. “I said Tae would put me in contact with you! Don’t you trust me?” he teases.

“I don’t trust Kimmy,” she counters immediately, not looking up until she underlines her number twice and puts an exclamation mark. She tucks her pen away in her pencil case and starts packing up her things. Although he has a class next and should probably hurry up, Jungkook just sits back in his chair and observes her. “You can tell him a million times and he’ll still forget, and I’m not putting my business on the line for his flaky ass.”

He chuckles, and absentmindedly his thumb rubs over the ink on the back of his hand. “You’re quite bossy, you know that?”

She grins at him, kicking him lightly in the shins. “And you’re a terrible flirter!”

“If you noticed I was flirting, then I must have been doing it right,” he counters. “Is it working?”

She kicks him again, but her cheeks heat up. “I gave you my number, didn’t I?” She glances at the clock and bites her lip. “Ah, I’m late for my physics nap. Dammit.”

“You’re what?”

She hoists her backpack on, and answers as he gets up hurriedly and stuffs his things away. “If you get to physics early enough, you can get a seat at the back, and Professor Namjoon can’t see you sleeping.”

He scoffs, finally picking up his bag and joining her as they left the classroom together. He doesn’t have the luxury of sleeping in class, and his is in the opposite direction to the way she’s leading him, but he doesn’t want to part ways just yet. Maybe he can skip, just this once, and get Jimin to give him his notes. “I apologize for keeping you up past your bedtime, chief.”

She snorts out her nose but manages to keep her face impassive. “At least you know your place, young grasshopper.”

“We’re the same age!”

“Kimmy’s older than me and he still knows I’m the boss.”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to earn my sworn fealty. I’m not a loyal puppy like Tae.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re quite bossy, you know that?”

He laughs at his words from earlier being thrown back at him. “Only to pretty girls.”

She blushes but forces an unimpressed look on her face. “So, there are others, huh?”

Jungkook shakes his head in bemused disbelief, making a note to himself to thank Tae for buying the photos that started all this. He stares at her while she’s making a point of doggedly avoiding his gaze. They had only just met, sure, but there was something about her that made his heart beat faster, and he desperately wanted to explore that feeling. “Not if you don’t want there to be.”

Read the sequel!

[setaripendragon]

That Strange Bennett Child

So it occurred to me (I wasn’t even watching Rise of the Guardians, it just happened out of nowhere) that in the Rise of the Guardians fandom, there’s a lot of stories where Jamie and/or some of his friends remember the Guardians even into adulthood. And don’t get me wrong, I love those stories. But it occurred to me that out of all the kids, Jamie isn’t actually the one most likely to remember. Yes, he had direct contact with a Guardian, but even if the Guardians avoid contact where possible, there have to have been other kids who talked to the Guardians over the years. Jamie’s just as likely as anyone else to brush off what he saw as a kid’s over-active imagination when he gets older. Sophie on the other hand, visited the Warren. I could be wrong here, but as far as I can remember, she was the only kid in the movie to actually visit one of the Guardian’s realms. She, in fact, spent all night there. Add to that the fact that Bunny’s race is named after (and very, very losely based on) a specific type of fae, and, well. There are myths about people that get kidnapped by the fae, and those people are usually a bit odd when they get back, if they get back at all. So! I wrote the fic! =D

Everyone forgot. Oh, it wasn’t that simple, Sophie knew. They didn’t forget what had happened, exactly, they just… convinced themselves it couldn’t possibly have been real. That they’d made it all up. ‘Boy, I sure had an active imagination when I was a kid’ and so on. It had terrified her, when she was younger, watching everyone around her brush off friends they’d risked their lives to save, once upon a time, because it was too difficult to keep believing in them.

The worst was when Jamie had stopped believing. It hadn’t happened all at once, he’d just… been interested in other things. Dismissive, a little, and Sophie had been annoyed about, but Jack had just laughed it off, saying he was a newly minted teenager, and teenagers were just like that. Sophie’d been nine, almost two years later, the first time Jamie didn’t even look up when Jack dropped in to check on them. Sophie had tried to tell him, grabbing his arm and yelling “Jack’s here!”

And Jamie had shaken her off and told her “Enough, Sophie. I don’t wanna play make-believe with you right now.” Then he’d gone back to his video game. Sophie had thrown the mother of all tantrums, and sulked for a week, refusing to speak to anyone except Jack. And even with him, she was petulant and miserable.

Eventually, Jack had called in reinforcements to try and cheer her up. “Hey there, little sheila. It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen, we’re not upset.” The Easter Bunny told her, and then it had come out. It didn’t matter how much proof kids thought they had, it didn’t matter how much time they spent with the Guardians. The Guardians belonged to childhood, and so growing up meant forgetting.

It had terrified her. Sophie had approached her thirteenth birthday with dread, unlike the excitement all her friends were showing. She spent a lot of time with Aster – his name was Aster, he was the closest thing she’d ever known to a father, and she was going to forget he even existed – trying to cram as much time with him as possible into every day.

She lost touch with her primary school friends after that. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them any more, but she couldn’t bear to watch them forget like Jamie and his friends had all forgotten. So she made new friends. Sort of. She never really let them close anymore, because she was starting to get odd looks for mentioning Santa or the Easter Bunny. And she refused – refused – to pretend she didn’t believe, not even for one moment. Because if she started pretending, how long would it be before she forgot it was only pretend?

She spent her thirteenth birthday in the Warren. Aster hadn’t wanted to let her visit, but Sophie had run away from the party her mom had planned – she felt a little guilty about that, but not guilty enough to go back – and wandered around the woods until she found the entrance to Pitch Black’s lair.

Because any proof was better than nothing.

Jack had caught up with her while she’d still been gawping up at the room full of giant wrought-iron bird cages, and brought her to the Warren. Aster had scolded her up one side and down the other, but Sophie didn’t care, and she wasn’t sorry. She glowered and scowled through the whole ordeal, and didn’t say a word until, exasperated, Aster had demanded to know what she would have done if Pitch had found her first.

Sophie had smirked, flicked her fringe out of her eyes with a toss of her head, and told him; “At least I would have known he was real.”

Aster and Jack had relented, with sympathy clear in their eyes, and let her stay until it was starting to get dark in Burgess. They’d also told her stories, so many stories, about themselves. Their lives, their histories, their truths, and Sophie had treasured each and every one as the gift it was. The gift of memory, no matter how long it might or might not last. They were giving her the only thing she really wanted; more ways to hold on to her friends.

She’d gone home in the evening with flowers woven into her hair, paint and grass-stains making a mess of her clothes, and a chill in her fingers from a snowball fight in the middle of July. Her mother had been in state, too worried to properly take in just how odd Sophie looked in that moment, how out of place every last thing about her was, but Jamie didn’t miss it, and neither did any of the other people Lizzy Bennett had drafted to help look for her daughter.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Lizzy demanded with frustrated worry poured into every word.

Sophie had smiled, feeling more settled than she had for months. “Underhill.” She answered. It was, technically, not a lie. She had, in fact, been under a hill.

“Away with the fairies?” Jamie asked, teasing, but he was trying to be friendly. Sophie could see that now where she hadn’t been able to, before. Trying to join in the only way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t remember, after all, and he just didn’t know how much it hurt Sophie that he didn’t understand her joke.

So she didn’t snap at him, like she had been doing for months. Instead, all she said was; “Something like that.”

“Strange child.” Someone muttered.

Lizzy shot a glare at the speaker, but Sophie just grinned. Yes. Yes, she was.

Sophie Bennett didn’t forget. She didn’t know why not. Why, at fifteen, she could still see Jack as clear as day, when everyone else looked right through him. She never once took it for granted though. She never once stopped being grateful that she could still run to the Warren when the world got too much, could go to Aster for advice, and North for hugs, and Jack for a few hours of uncomplicated fun. She never stopped waving to Sandy when he passed by, or leaving little treats out for Baby Tooth and her sisters.

She got dancing lessons from Tooth, and she learnt to paint from Aster. Jack taught her to ice-skate, and North showed her magic. From Sandy, she got lessons on fighting. Fighting dirty, fighting outnumbered, fighting with a weapon, fighting with words.

She never quite stopped being ‘that strange Bennett child’.

It never quite stopped hurting, the knowledge that everyone else had forgotten, but it got better. It got better when Jamie decided to write his own stories. “All those adventures I came up with when I was a kid,” he’d explained, laughingly, “they were good stories, weren’t they? I should write them down.” Sophie helped, reminding him of little details he’d forgotten when he’d forgotten they weren’t real, and she told him other stories, her own stories, and let him write those, too.

It got better when Cupcake started working at the local stables, and Sophie realised there were unicorns in the paddock. Cupcake couldn’t see them, of course, she thought they were just normal horses, but Sophie knew. She could see their horns and the intelligence in their eyes. No one knew why she favoured those horses, or why she talked to them like they could understand every word she said, but by that point, everyone brushed it off as being just another oddity from ‘that strange Bennett child’. She learnt to ride on the back of a unicorn, under the instruction of both Cupcake and the unicorn himself.

It got better when Caleb went to art college, and came home at the holidays with folders full of the most beautiful, fantastical pictures. Dragons that reminded Sophie of some of Sandy’s dream-sand creatures, all golden scales and delicate frills. Vampires that looked hilariously like a certain bogeyman. Little elves playing with trinkets like magpies. Villages full of anthropomorphic rabbits in robes and glasses. Angels with jewel-bright wings and scimitars and fairies with rainbow skin and little beaks. When she mentioned it to the Guardians, they’d all laughed about it, amused and pleased in equal measure, and Tooth had winked at Sophie when no one else was looking.

So it got better, even if Sophie couldn’t quite let go of her anger at the unfairness of it. More on her brother’s behalf than for herself. Jamie had adored Jack, had looked up to him like the cool older brother he’d never had, and that he’d forgotten that was just not fair. And sometimes, when he came to visit her, Jack would look over at Jamie with the ghost of sorrow in his eyes, and it took all of Sophie’s efforts not to scream.

Sometimes, she didn’t bother trying to hold herself back. Not with Jack, or Jamie, or her mom, because she loved them and it wasn’t their fault that the world wasn’t fair. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault, either, but Sophie only had so much restraint. She swore at anyone who ever told her – or anyone else in her vicinity – to ‘grow up’. She shouted right back at teachers who shouted at her for not paying attention because one of the bookworms had more interesting things to say. She broke noses when the other kids mocked her for still believing in Santa Claus, and picked fights with strangers who walked through what they only thought was empty air.

She knew her mom worried about her, worried that she was ‘falling in with the wrong crowd’ because Sophie still vanished down to the lake every now and then to visit her friends. Lizzy didn’t believe Sophie when she told her she was ice-skating with ghosts, or painting with a shapeshifter, or dancing with fairies, and she demanded the ‘truth’ until Sophie had exploded. “You don’t want the truth, or you’d believe me when I told it to you! You just want me to tell a lie you can believe! Well, I won’t!” She’d shouted. There’d been more shouting, on both sides, and Sophie had gone right back to the Warren to cry all over Aster about it.

Of course, he wasn’t much help, because his advice was to lie about it. But at least his advice came with hugs, and hot chocolate, and an egg-shaped nest full of the softest blankets for Sophie to curl up and sleep in once she’d cried herself out. She got to eat honey-slathered toast for breakfast with fresh apple juice, and Aster walked her all the way home after breakfast, patient and steady no matter how much she dragged her feet.

Her mother cried when she saw her, hugged her and apologised and swore to listen better from then on. They talked a lot that morning, and Lizzy was as good as her promise. She didn’t understand, not really, and it was clear she didn’t actually believe Sophie. It was obvious that she was very, very worried, but Sophie pointed out she’d never been hurt when she wandered off, she always came home safe, even last night, and Lizzy had to admit it was true. Eventually, they realised that they weren’t going to to be able to change anything, but they could, at least, accept each other. They came to an unspoken compromise. Lizzy still asked where Sophie was going, and Sophie still told her the truth, and Lizzy still didn’t believe her, and that was okay.

That Christmas, Sophie got two presents from Santa. One actually was from Santa, and it was the – accurate – book on magical creatures that she’d asked him for. The other was a butterfly knife, and the note was very clearly in her mother’s handwriting, even if it had been signed with a different name. It was the best Christmas present Sophie had ever gotten, and she’d put the knife aside to go and hug her mother and whisper a thank you with tears in her eyes. Maybe it had been a misplaced attempt – Sophie didn’t need tricks to affirm her belief – but it meant so much that her mother had tried at all. That whether it was true or not, she remembered buying ‘santa’ presents for Sophie when she was little, and she was willing to do it again, even if she thought it was silly, if it would make Sophie feel more accepted in her own home.

She got a present from Santa for her birthday that year, too. She’d gone to visit the Warren, like she did every year on her birthday. Only in the evenings, now, the rest of the day was for family, but she still went, every year, to remind herself she could. And that time, they’d all given her gifts. They never had before, birthdays weren’t really so much of an important thing when you lived for centuries, possibly millennia, but this time was different.

“If you have not forgotten by now, you are not going to.” North had told her solemnly, one large hand resting on her shoulder. “All children are precious to us, but you are something different. Perhaps, one day, you will be a Guardian yourself.”

Sophie didn’t think so. At least, she didn’t feel like any sort of spirit or fae creature. She had a little magic, just enough to warm her coffee when it started to cool, or keep her schoolwork dry when it rained, but she didn’t think she’d ever be anything like North, or Jack.

Tooth gave her an earring made with one of her own feathers. North gave her a puzzle box that would only open for her. Sandy gave her pen with ink made from dreamsand that would never run out. Jack gave her a snowflake pendant made of ice that would never melt. And Aster gave her a pair of leather bracers just like his.

Something different, Sophie thought to herself as her mom and Jamie both eyed her new gifts with confusion and wariness. It was true, she thought, in more ways than one. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t quite fit right in this life, but it was equally true that she was too much a part of this world to ever truly be something else. She wasn’t like Jack, who had cut all ties to his mortal life when he drowned, and she wasn’t like North, who’d left his mortal constraints behind one step at a time as he’d embraced the legend he’d become.

Sophie still had her family. Her mother and brother, whom she loved and wouldn’t let go of for anything. And she had her friends, her Guardians, whom she loved, and wouldn’t let go of for anything. She was caught in between, and quite honestly? She was perfectly happy right where she was.

[cheritzbullshitz]

Dandelion Head-Cannons: Playing horror games w/you

It looks like people are starting to come back to this fandom a little bit, huh? :D

idea from an adorable-ass mystic messenger post. I would link it if I remembered who made it

also I thought of Until Dawn when writing this but any scary game with some sort of plot-line you like will probably(?) work

also also this headcannon (my first one!) has the dandelion gang written in it, but I might add the wizard and maybe Heejung(?) here if anyone wants me to enough idrk

Enjoy! :D

Jiwoo:

-Jiwoo was reading some shitty romance novel in Heejung’s room when he heard you scream

-omg wERE YOU OKAY?

-he chucked his book across the room and ran out to see

-he ran back to pick up his book, save his page, and then ran back out the room

-saw you sitting on the couch with all the lights off and gripping the controller like a madman

-oh

-”How dARE YOU SCARE ME LIKE THAT, (NAME)!”

-”What are you even playing that made you scream like that?”

-you explained what you’re playing and he practically had sparkles in his eyes when he said “Pshh! Give me the controller. Your strong boyfriend can handle this way better than you.”

-he can’t

-when the first jumpscare came up, his ears stood straight up on end it’s so cute omfg. He screamed louder than you probably ever could, dropping the controller and reaching for the closest thing around him to wrap his arms around for protection, which was you

-you wrapped an arm around him too, patting his back, and teased him with a big ol’ smirk the one he fucking hated so much

-”My strong boyfriend can handle this way better than me, huh?”

-he threw your hand off his back and launched back out of your arms with a light tinge of red on his face, shouting “SH-SHUT UP!”

-it’s so cute

-you offer to take the controller but he’s just...

-he externally ain’t having any of that, even though internally he desperately wants to shove it into your hands, turn into a rabbit, and cower into the couch cushions

-after awhile, you just give up asking even though he really doesn’t want you to

-when he ends up accidentally killing his favourite character, he gets so sad and frustrated

-he literally screamed “NO!” at the top of his lungs

-he was even tearing up poor bby

-you decide he’s had enough

-you turn off the game, turn on the lights (without any complaints from him) and spend the rest of the evening comforting him

-he fought you at first, but once you’ve fought back enough, he kinda just gave in to your love

-you end up rubbing his back with his head in your lap, telling him everything’s okay

-”Everything is NOT OKAY, (NAME).”

-he appreciates it a lot, but he definitely won’t be telling you that

Jisoo:

-he and you are cuddling on the couch together, watching Gordon Lambsy yell at some chefs

-Jisoo doesn’t give a shit about the people and is just staring at all the food all googly-eyed

-you, out of boredom, asked whether he wanted to play this horror game with you

-he never played one before, but playing games with you were always fun (or in the case of rage-games, always an experience at least) so he’s like hell yeah, even though he doesn’t entirely know what a horror game is

-before you guys started playing, you got up and hit the lights, which made him raise an eyebrow but he didn’t really bother to ask you

-you started the game and oh boi

-he understood why they were called horror games real quick

-he jumped every time there was a jumpscare and even screamed once but quickly covered it up with some noise he thought was manly enough

-it sounded like “AAAAAAAAAAaaargh! Ugh! Ahem!”

-you were fucking laughing so hard oml

-you teased him about it and he was like “Hey! A-at least I’m coping better than you!” his voiced cracked really badly too but you were already laughing so you couldn’t say anything

-you guys kept playing but he really wasn’t complaining at all. Every time something spooky started happening he got the opportunity to be your knight in shining armour (aka. he’d wrap an arm around your torso, and when you got really scared, he’d nuzzle his face into your neck) and when you got jumpscared you clung to him tightly like him to you most of the time

-he had fun with you, as he always did

Jiyeon:

-Jiyeon found this horror game he wanted to play with you

-”(Name), you have to play this with me! I wanted to play it by myself, but I was just too scared~!” He whined to you adorably, tears in his eyes.

-yeah right, Jiyeon. He’s just using this as an excuse to snuggle you and he knows it.

-you, of course, agreed

-because he kept on lying telling you how scared he was, you took control over the controller

-this boy was making it real hard for you to play, because throughout your whole playthrough, he was just all over you

-every time anything remotely spooky happened, he’d just take the opportunity to shove his face into any and every part he could

-your face, your stomach, once even your boobs

-you were just like “Yeah, you’re not that innocent. Get outta there.” and pulled him out, meanwhile he’s just trying not to laugh and keep up his wholesome cutie-pie facade.

-“Huh? What are-*snerk* you t...ta-*giggle* talking about, (Name)?”

-eventually, he shoved his faced into your crotch ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

-he didn’t stop there though he’s Jiyeon. Do you really think he would?

-he started nuzzling it over and over, not directing any attention away from it speaking of attention this boi rn

-”Jiyeon, what are you doing?”

-”What do you mean?” he cooed, looking up at you with big, doe eyes and giving a questioning expression

-”Oh, drop the act. I think you know.”

-he had this devious little smirk on when he flirted ”Is that true?”

-long story short, you both kinda forgot about the game and had fun “entertaining” one another ( ͡0 ͜ʖ ͡0) lol I’m not sorry

Jihae:

-Jihae was in the kitchen cooking something when suddenly he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and hug him from behind

-”Guess who?” you chirped gleefully

-he knew who it was long before you said anything

-he smiled softly, interlacing the pair of hands with his own

-”I have a good guess.”

-”Well~? Guess!”

-”Oh, alright then. I’m guessing they have a wonderful smile, eyes I could get lost in, the ability to light up my life like never before, and are the love of my life. Am I correct?”  this adorable bastard is fucking gonna give me cavities from how sweet he is oml it hurts

-you turned him around and gave him a kiss on the cheek *if you’re normal-sized you’d probably have to jump in order to kiss him, and if your short, you’d jump up and hook your arms around their neck, forcing them to bend over when you hit the ground enough for you to kiss them - Jihae’s tall af*

-”Wanna be my backseat gamer? I’m gonna start playing a game.”

-”Uhh...” He glanced over at what he was cooking. He’d loved to hang out with you, but he didn’t want what he was making to burn. “Of course, my love, (yes, I know he calls you “my lady” in the game, but I wanna make this gender-neutral as possible, okay? If you actually have a problem with it, just read it as your name idk) but I may not be able to play with you for long.”

-he turned down the stove to its lowest heat before going with you

-once you started the game up, he was rather intrigued by the story, but he just couldn’t get his mind off his possibly burning food

-that is, until you started to get scared

-mama bird/papa bunny mode: activated

-absolutely every last drop of attention was shifted from his food to you

-immediately grabs your hand to comfort you

-”Oh my goodness (Name), are you alright? What happened? Why are you so afraid?”

-you tell him it’s the game but before you can tell why you’re playing it...

-”Oh, my love, we don’t have to play this game at all if you wish. I don’t care if I’m having fun with the game, if you start feeling in any way uncomfortable, especially scared, I can turn it off immediately. My love, I apologize deeply for not noticing any sooner. I should have been paying more attention to you. Here, allow me to turn off the-”

-”W-wait, I didn’t save!”

-Jihae, Jihae, Jihae. I love you, but boy need some CHILL. He’s too fucking sweet.

-you explained to him what you’re playing and why you want to play it despite it being scary, and he’s still just so worried

-”Alright, but please know that I can turn it off for you at literally any time you wish. If you feel like it’s too scary for you to handle, or you think that you might end up having a nightmare later tonight, at any moment in time-”

-”Jihae.”

-”...Yes?”

-you gave this big boy a reassuring squeeze of his hand, showing him how much you appreciated his caring nature god, would he be such a good dad

-”It’s fine, okay?”

-”...Okay.”

-from then on, he didn’t ask you again if you wanted him to turn it off, but he didn’t leave your side while watched you play, for moral support of course.

-if anything remotely scary happened in the game, he’d wrap both arms around you

-when something actually scared you, he’d be there to play with your hair and whisper to you over and over “It’s okay. It’s alright, my love.”

-once, you got scared so badly you hid yourself in his hair

-he was blushing so hard it was so cute to him

-alas, all good things come to an end

-out of the blue, you both smelt something strange in the air

-before you could ask him if he knew what it could be, he jumped up and shouted “YOUR FOOD!” and dashed out of the room with lightning speed

-your food…?

-oh no

-he was cooking before

-you dashed out the room and into the kitchen to see Jihae panicking over the small kitchen fire over the stove

-you joined in on the panicking and scrambled to put out the fire along with him

-he turned off the stove cautiously as you filled up a nearby pot with water

-you dumped the water onto the fire, putting it out almost instantly

-Jihae had this look on his face that just seemed so...sad. Sorry, and sad. It hurt your heart to look at it

-”(Name), I am so very sorry about this.” He sighed. “This was supposed to be (your favourite food), but alas, due to my ignorance, not only has your food literally gone up in flames, I endangered your life in the process. I can only ask for your condolences for to my actions.”

-bby Jihae it was a tiny flame that was literally smaller than your hand. It’s 100% fine.

-You smiled at him. He was gonna surprise you with your favourite food

-”Jihae, don’t get so hung-up about it. I love just the fact that you would go out of your way to do anything for me, even if I don’t end up eating it at all.”

-you give him a big ol’ hug and he’s sincerely happy he got to be with someone as loving and forgiving as you

Adult! Jieun:

-oh god I haven’t played seen his route in awhile. Jieun fans please be merciful on thee (>~<)

-you had just finished chopping up some apple slices for him, all with the skin peeled off, just the way he liked it

-when you walked up to him with a plate of apples, his eyes lit up like stars in a forest’s night sky

-this precious son of a bitch

-you took the opportunity to do something a cute couple would do and offered to feed him

-”If it makes you happy, you do not need my permission.”

-”Say ‘ah’, Jieun.”

-”Oh woah, Jieun. Slow down, heheh.”

-”OH MY GOD, JIEUN SLOW THE HELL DOWN JESUS CHRIST I CAN’T KEEP UP.”

-...well then.

-that was supposed to be cute, but it turned out to be exhausting

-hmm

-you still wanted to do something relationship-y with him though, because that didn’t really count

-ummm

-oh! A horror game could work! You guys could end up snuggling together (out of fear, but still)

-”Jieun, you wanna watch me play a game? It’ll be fun~.”

-”Yes. Spending time with you is often fun.”

-aw

-you started the game up and motioned for Jieun to sit closely next to you

-he did

-you wrapped your arm around his waist and started playing

-”Oh…” Jieun sheepishly murmured

-”This is...nice, (Name).” He shyly cooed, blushing slightly and shuffling a little closer to you

-once the lights were off and the game started getting eerie, he and you both got afraid.

-when the first actual scare came up, he jumped and gasped slightly, his rabbit ears standing straight up he’s so cute, you guys

-you got scared too, and he asked you why you might play something like this if you get scared while playing it

-you tried to explain to him how getting scared was strangely kinda fun and also gave you the opportunity to cuddle him

-”I don’t understand how being scared could be fun, but if you enjoy it…”

-he kept on getting scared, so you held him closer to you, and he wrapped himself around you in return, but he still was getting really spooked

-so you paused the game, stood up, left the room he was terrified at the thought of you leaving, so you had to convince him you’d be as fast as possible, and eventually he let you go, but not without the lights turned on for him, grabbed a big blanket, dragged it back to the room, to see Jieun cowering into the couch cushions, covering his eyes with his bunny ears. Poor bby Jieun! and wrapped yourselves in its warmth

-he immediately calmed down

-when it was combined with your arm back around his waist, he actually passed out on your shoulder

-you practically had a heart attack it was so cute

-you decided to join him in his nap

-you laid Jieun down and spooned with him, him being the little spoon

-despite just playing a horror game, with him in your arms, you fell asleep relatively easy