#and that might start to make you uncomfortable | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shadowheartshapedbox · 3 days ago

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✶⋆.˚ ┆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+}

pairing: bob reynolds x thunderbolts*reader x john walker summary: john walks in on you and bob sharing an intimate moment. to john's surprise, you invite him to join. warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut (threesome, john holds you while bob eats you out, bob and john share a kiss, you ride john and give bob head at the same time, not so much smut but naked cuddles at the end <3), swearing, potentially ooc characters (first time writing for bob so if i didn't give him justice please don't burn me at the stake) word count: 6k a/n: listen, i wasn't expecting to like the bob x john pairing as much as i did, but then i read some fics and thought ... yeah i gotta write something. i feel like i got a little lazy writing toward the end, so i might go back and rework some stuff. but for now, enjoy!

It had been the first Friday night in months that the Thunderbolts didn't have to go away for a mission. The team was elated to have a weekend to relax. Not only had they been training to become better heroes, but also training to keep a good public reputation.

After all, they had big shoes to fill now that they were the New Avengers. Being a Thunderbolt was one thing, being protectors of the innocent was another.

So, the break was well-deserved. It put everyone in a good mood. Even Bucky, who never seemed to be able to relax or have fun. Tonight, he joined Alexei in the common room at the Watchtower. Alexei had been watching an action movie and doing a terrible job at explaining it to Bucky, instead of just letting him watch.

Yelena had asked Ava for her help in her room, something about giving the guinea pig a bath. Despite Ava dragging her feet as she followed Yelena down the hall, John knew Ava wasn't really that annoyed by it. He'd noticed the two hanging out more, which also helped boost team morale. The better everyone got along, the better they worked together as a team.

With everyone occupied with their choice of entertainment for the evening, John decided to make his way to your room. He hoped after the long week you'd be up for some company.

Within the last year, you and John had grown close. Valentina often put you and John together on missions, which may have led to something more between the two of you. You guys weren't dating, but you drifted dangerously along the line of friendship and something more.

It put John in an uncomfortable position once Bob started coming around more. He wasn't upset; in fact, he was glad Bobby was hanging out with them now, but John couldn't deny that missed the time spent with just the two of you.

He missed you coming into his room at night, after everyone had gone to bed. You liked sleeping with John at night, letting him hold you while you drifted off. But lately you weren't stopping by his room, and when he saw Bob coming out of your room one morning, he knew something was up.

John didn't think to knock when he got to your room. He was so lost in his thoughts that he just walked right in. He barely made it through the doorway before he came to a complete stop.

The scene unfolding in front of John made the man turn red, his throat tightening shut. His blue eyes tried to find any other spot to look in your room, but they betrayed him and kept going back to what was happening on your bed.

Bob was sitting in your bed, back flat against the headboard. The same one John had nearly broken several times in the past. His eyes were closed, mouth hung open with his head fallen back. There was a shine of sweat across Bob's forehead, his curls sticking to his face. His fists were twisted in your sheets, the same ones you had stained more than once.

John's eyes dropped lower on the bed, where you were laying on your stomach in between Bob's legs. He could see your head bobbing up and down along his length. You had been so lost in the taste of Bob that you didn't hear the door open, not until you heard the door swoosh close. Bob let out a startled moan, weakly trying to push you off him now in embarrassment.

John wasn't sure what to say, how to react. He stood like an idiot with his mouth hung open from shock. A crimson color was creeping up his neck and to his ears. But then to make it worse, he felt his dick twitch in his pants. He awkwardly shifted, trying to not be obvious when he put his hands in front of his crotch. How could he be getting this turned on by what he saw?

Bob, on the other hand, was mortified. Sure, John and Bob were much better friends than they were when they first met, but Bob would be lying if he said he wasn't still a little intimidated by John. And now that he was fooling around with you, Bob was worried John wouldn't take it well.

He wasn't an idiot. Bob saw the way John looked at you when he thought nobody was looking. He was smitten over you. But John also didn't have any sort of claim on you. So, it's not like you and Bob were doing anything wrong.

John watched you finally pull yourself off Bob with a lewd 'pop!' noise. You wiped your mouth and grinned at John, before turning to look back at Bob. You leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, "I told you he'd find us."

Bob glanced up and over at John. He watched the blonde's tongue peek out, licking his bottom lip. It made Bob's dick grow under his hands, causing him to groan and shift a little in your bed.

"I told you to lock the door," Bob said, looking over at you. He shook his head when you let out a giggle, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss on the cheek.

"Bobby, I didn't think you were being serious," you tried to be serious, but couldn't help the stifled laugh that slipped through your lips when Bob gave you a pointed look. "Besidesss, I thought we agreed that it would be fun if he joined."

John swore he died just then. Did he hear you right? You two had discussed this before? Him...joining you? He watched you two sit in your bed together, naked. Your bodies shining from sweat and slick. His eyes found his way to Bob's arms. The muscles of his biceps flexed, the veins popped. John's eyes continued further down, counting each ab on Bob's stomach before he-

The moan from across the room brought you to a hush. You and Bob's head turned to look over at John, who was not practically panting from his spot still by your door. Bob could see John's dick was ready to break through his pants. Was he...turned on by this?

John cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but no words fell out. His feet felt locked in place, unable to move.

"I should just-," Go. He needed to turn around and leave. His mind was screaming at him to walk away, so why couldn't he?

You leaned over and gave Bob one more wet kiss to his cheek before pushing yourself off the bed. Bob's eyes fell down your naked form, watching you make your way to John. His dominant hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly.

When you made your way to John, you circled him once like he was prey. It made him nervous, tense. Bob couldn't see you when you disappeared behind John, not only your arms poked out and wrapped around his middle. John only seemed to relax when he realized you were just hugging him.

"I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want," John leaned against your mouth when you whispered in his ear, feeling your lips press kisses across his face and along his jawline, down his neck. "But I'd love to have a night with both of my boys."

Bob whimpered at your words from across the room, feeling more pre-cum leak through the slit at the tip of his dick. Your boys, he liked the sound of that. And by the size of the tent in John's pants, he did too.

John sucked in a breath when your hands wandered lower, palming him through his sweatpants. He leaned back into your hold, knees threatening to give out from under him. He needed a moment to think.

A part of him knew the entire situation was fucked, but he also couldn't deny how much it turned him on. The idea of stuffing you full of him while Bob watched made him nearly faint. John nearly came in his pants then when he thought about watching Bob eat you out after.

When John's eyes found yours again, they were nearly black from lust. He turned in your hold, grabbing you by the waist and pulling him to him. John's hand extended out behind you to lock the door. He let out a hiss when he felt you start grinding on his dick.

He gave your ass a smack, a warning. John's hands kneaded the flesh before giving it another hard smack. "So, when did this little thing start, huh?" John pulled you with him as he made his way to the bed.

Bob watched John toss you like you were nothing on the bed. His eyes dropped to where you fell, in between his legs and dangerously close to his dick. His balls were practically sitting on top of your head.

You moved your head to rest on Bob's thigh, turning your face to look at his dick. You hummed and reached out, replacing Bob's hand with your own. His hands found the bedsheets again, twisting them in his fists.

"Go on, Bobby. Answer him," you contorted your body to be able to lean over and kiss the swollen red tip of his dick. Bob hissed at the contact.

"F-fuck, I don't know. A few weeks ago, I think," Bob whimpered and twisted his fists tighter in the sheets when he felt you kiss up and down his shaft. "When y-you were all gone on a mission."

John tried to think back a few weeks ago. All the days were beginning to blur together, but John eventually remembered what Bob was talking about. You had gotten injured, and Val made you sit out.

He let out a laugh more to himself than anyone as he pushed his pants down. You and Bob watched in awe as John stripped himself free from his clothes. He wasn't as chiseled as Bob was, but he was just as solid. Faint scars from his time in battle litter his body, freckles dancing around the scars like constellations.

He was beautiful, you and Bob both thought. In front of the team, John's ego was inflated. If you said that to him in front of everyone, but behind closed doors...John was sweeter.

Bob couldn't help but look down at John's dick, standing tall, proud. Bob's dick twitched and knocked against your nose as you were pulling away.

You sat up and on your knees. Bob followed your lead, sitting up and extending his arms out behind him to lean on. His legs were stretched out on the bed, dick twitching in his lap. He watched John crawl on the bed, kneeling in front of you and sitting at Bob's knees.

"It's only our third time," you explained, moaning when John's large hands groped your tits suddenly. You felt yourself become wet from him manhandling you. "W-we haven't even really done anything!"

Bob watched John play with your tits in front of him. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat when John's mouth licked and sucked at your neck, fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. John knew what you liked, how you liked being touched. Maybe he'd be a good friend tonight to Bobby and give him a few pointers.

John's gaze glanced over at Bob, who had been staring at your breasts, his hand slowly pumping the top of his dick. John grinned against your neck before biting down, pulling away when you yelped. You were already in a daze, pouting when John's warm mouth left your skin. All he did was give you some hickeys on your neck and play with your tits, and this was the state you were left in.

"Tell me what you've done," His hands held onto your hips as he maneuvered you both on the bed, turning you so your back was against his chest, and you were facing Bob. John made sure to keep your legs open, so Bob had a direct view of your wet pussy.

You hummed at the warm feeling of John's front against your cold back. His hands went back to playing with your breasts, his legs pinning yours open. Bob watched through heavy eyes as John kissed your neck, biting at the skin and licking up until he pressed his lips to your ear. John locked his eyes on Bob while asking you, "Has he ate your pussy yet?"

You moaned at the question and squirmed in John's grip, rolling your hips down on the sheets. You felt John's hard dick pressing against your back, his teeth pulling at your earlobe. He stuck his tongue in your ear a little, causing you to groan and try and pull away. But John's grip only tightened so you would stay put.

"Tell me," he whispered harshly, bringing one of his hands down from your breast to smack your clit. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, chasing after his touch. All Bob could do was continue to watch in awe. You were putty in John's hands. "Tell me what you've done. I won't ask again."

Your chest heaved as you tried catching your breath. What little sense of control you thought you had, was now out the window. John already took you by surprise when he accepted to join you and Bob, now it seemed like he was taking charge of the situation entirely.

You weren't surprised though. Leave it to John to still need to be in control somehow. If you weren't painfully aroused by the moment, you'd probably give him shit for it. But you wanted him on you, in you.

"We've only kissed," You turned and buried your face in John's neck. "I-I've only sucked his dick. We were gonna do more tonight, though."

You whimpered when John slowly began rubbing circles on your clit. He nodded at your answer, satisfied with your response. His fingers slipped around the bundle of nerves the wetter you grew. But there was still something about your response that didn't sit right with John.

"But has Bobby tasted you yet? I saw his dick down your throat, but has he given you the same attention?"

Bob's face grew hotter. He watched you shake your head no before glancing back at John, who had a little smirk toying at the corner of his mouth. He stopped playing with your clit and pushed your legs open more with his legs, motioning for Bob to move in between.

He tried to not be so nervous, especially now that John was there. It's not like he didn't know what he was doing, he's just never ate your pussy before. Bob wanted to make sure he did a good job, and John was going to make sure that it happened.

"Be good and keep your legs open, yeah? I want Bobby to make sure he gets all in there." You nodded and watched Bob as he shifted to lay on his stomach. He wrapped his arms around yours and John's legs, adjusting them to rest over his shoulders and down his back. You found yourself panting, sandwiched between the both of them.

"Now, Bobby. Don't be afraid to get messy. She likes it when you clean her up after," You could feel Bob’s hot breath fanning over your pussy, drool threatening to spill out and on you.

But Bob felt frozen, unable to move. John scoffed and grabbed him by his hair, shoving his face deep into your folds. “Come on now, don’t keep our girl waiting.”

When you felt Bob's tongue go flat against your folds, you let out a loud moan. Your hands gripped John's biceps, legs squirming in both their grasps. Bob's hands tightened on your thighs as John's ankles locked onto yours.

"Good job, Bobby," John's hands eased up on Bob's head, pushing his hair back and out of his face. You felt John's dick slowly grind against your back. "How does she taste?"

Bob whimpered when John's hand left his hair. Through lidded eyes, Bob watched John's calloused fingers run along your body, working you up. His hands grabbed at the soft parts of your body, working their way back up your breasts. Bob moaned as he continued to eat you out when he watched John pinch and twist your hardened nipples.

"Come on, Bob. Tell me," John practically whined. He wasn't used to sharing, having to wait to taste you. "I wanna know what I'm missing out on."

Bob's hips slowly grinded into your mattress. Between the taste of you and John's voice coaxing him through the act, Bob was ready to cum. His tongue continued to swipe up and down through your folds, slurping up any liquid that dripped out of you.

"S-good," Bob muffled, not able to rip his mouth away from you. "Tastes like...mmm, candy."

You let out a whine at Bob's words, withering in John's grasp. His hands came down from your breasts to wrap around your middle, holding you still. Although you were starting to become overstimulated, you craved more. You needed more.

"Candy, huh?" John laughed and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "You hear that? Bobby said you taste like candy. I'm really jealous now. Not used to having to wait to have a taste."

You tore your gaze away from Bob and looked up at John, who was smiling down at you. Any sense of nervousness or uncomfortableness seemed to have vanished from the blonde. You were both lost in each other's eyes, that neither of you noticed Bob's eyes glaze over golden.

There was an urge that ripped through Bob suddenly. It was like an itch that needed to be scratched. His body was tingling, practically buzzing when he pulled himself off of you. You and John both turned your attention back to Bob.

He was sitting on his knees now, still in between your legs. Bob scooted himself closer to you, thighs resting under yours. His hands grabbed onto John's, since his legs were still pinning you down. The position was borderline uncomfortable, but the closeness had you quickly forgetting how uncomfortable you were.

From your spot in between John and Bob, you became uneasy. You knew what came with the golden eyes, but Bob wasn't backing down yet, so maybe he wasn't done? You began to wonder what you got yourself into.

"You okay, Bo-"

Bob cut you off by grabbing John's shoulder, pulling him closer. You fell into Bob's chest, pinned to his hard front when John was pulled closer by Bob. John tried to not squirm in Bob's hold, but he wasn't sure where this was heading.

You craned your neck back awkwardly to look up. Your mouth fell open when you watched Bob suddenly press his lips to John. Bob was more confident with that kiss than he'd been with anything else that night. John was taken back, but he didn't pull away. He was surprised with himself when Bob pulled away from the kiss, and John chased after his lips.

John watched with his mouth hung open as Bob pushed you and him both to lean back in your original spot. You were relieved to not be contorted like a pretzel any longer. The room fell back into a quiet hush, except for the lewd sounds of Bob eating you out.

Nothing was said about what just happened. John's lips were glossed over with a mixture of your slick and Bob's spit. He was watching Bob in a dream-like state, only pulled out of it when you pulled John in for a kiss.

You moaned at the taste on his lips, running your tongue over his top and bottom lip in circles, sucking his bottom lip and pulling away with your teeth dragging his lip out. You let it go and watched his lip stick out, a little swollen.

"Taste good," You mumbled before settling back in John's arms. One hand fell down to Bob's hair, fingers running through and pulling gently at his curls. "You're doing good, Bob. Making me feel so, oh!"

You jolted when you felt two fingers push into your dripping core. John's attention was drawn back to the act happening between your legs. He let out a moan of his own when he watched Bob's fingers pumping lewdly in you, mouth sucking hard at your clit.

"Good job, Bobby," He put his hands on your knees, pushing and pinning you deeper into the mattress. Bob's hand was reached out, holding on John's hip. It made John jump a little. "Keep going. She's getting messy, that means she's close."

You knew what was coming. You were going to squirt all over Bob's fingers, arm and mouth. The orgasm was going to hit you hard, nearly knock you out entirely. You closed your eyes to try and focus on not cumming right away.

"You gonna make a big mess on Bob, yeah?" John hissed when he felt Bob's blunt nails dig into his thigh. You nodded and withered around in John's arms. Your back was now dripping with John's pre-cum.

"I think Bobby's deserved it, don't you think?," John kissed the top of your head. "Finally got to taste you, baby. Why were you depriving him so long?"

You opened your eyes and looked at Bob, golden eyes meeting yours. He didn't look away from you, but his eyes were growing heavy, drunk off your pussy. You closed your eyes again and turned your head away.

"I-I don't know," you answered, whining when John grabbed you by your hair to force you to look back down at Bob. "John!"

"Don't get bratty with me. You should at least watch him when he's eating you out. He's doing a fucking good job at it, aren't you, Bobby?" Bob's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He wished John wouldn't talk so much right now.

You were right on the edge of your orgasm. Bob could feel your warm pussy clenching down on his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to curl his fingers up and punish your g-spot. He didn't want to hurt you, especially since this was only the first time, but you felt so good. He almost couldn't control himself.

Bob's fingers kept pace, but his mouth slowed. The two different sensations on two sensitive spots on your body had you teetering on insanity. You felt his tongue swipe up through your folds slowly, his soft lips kissing around your pussy and up your sticky thighs.

"She's close," Bob mumbled. He was hesitant for a second, as if deciding on if he should say what he wanted to. But at this point, he knew there wasn't much he could do to ruin things. "Feels like I'm gonna lose a couple fingers from her pussy."

John laughed at Bob's joke, earning a faint laugh from Bob. You watched Bob's shoulders relax. As happy as you were that he was getting comfortable, that him and John were getting along, why did they have to be stupid boys right as you were about to break?

Bob gave you one more kiss before wrapping his mouth around your clit again. He sucked on it like his life depended on it. You gasped and fisted your hands in Bob's hair, tugging on the curls.

It didn't take long before you let out a high pitch moan, shaking as you squirted all over him. Bob was quick to slurp you up, not wanting to waste any of the precious juices you graced him with.

John felt your legs shaking under his. He smiled and kissed your temple, whispering that you did a good job. You closed your eyes and panted, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your post-orgasm high. Your hips would occasionally buck up as Bob cleaned you up. But he eventually pulled away and sat up on his knees.

You didn't have the energy yet to open your eyes. John, on the other hand, couldn't help but watch Bob. He was kneeling in front of the both of you, grinning to himself in his fucked-out state. Your slick was glistening across Bob's lips, his chin. The hair that wasn't sticking to his face was sticking up a little. His eyes, still golden, but more subdued.

"You did good, Bobby. Glad you finally got a taste?" John asked, watching as Bob nodded. John nodded back before looking down at you. "Hey, we aren't done yet."

Bob fell back to his original spot in your bed, with his now sweaty back sticking to your headboard. His dick was painfully hard, leaking and red. He couldn't help himself at this point. While his right hand stroked his shaft, his left hands cupped his balls.

You opened your eyes with a groan when John began moving you. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up better, his legs now stretched over Bob's. You were in between them again, just not as close this time. Bob would have to lean forward to give you a kiss.

John's hands held you tight by the waist until he was comfortable. He then guided you down until you were seated on his dick. You moaned at the feeling of his dick in between your sticky folds. His dick was going to stretch you out deliciously. You clenched at the thought.

"I'm glad you got off, sweetheart. But Bobby and I haven't," John's hands moved up your stomach until they reached your breasts, giving them a squeeze. You whimpered and watched Bob continue to jack himself off, watching you intensely. You let out a small gasp when John's mouth found your ear. "So, you're gonna be our good girl, m'kay? You're gonna suck on Bobby's dick while you ride mine."

John's dick pulsated in anticipation. He wanted to give Bobby his time to shine when it came to eating you out, prepping you. But John could only be patient for so long. If he didn't sink his dick into you in the next ten seconds, he might've had to bend Bob over.

He grunted loud in your ear at the thought, bucking his hips up into you. You met John's movements in the middle, moaning at the contact. Your body was sticking to John's from both of your body heat, the sweat and slick from the evening. It was like you were glued to him.

Bob watched the two of you in front of him. His eyes wandered over your face, pulled in a tight expression as John edged you; your pussy, dripping now from slick as John's dick slid in and out between your folds. Bob licked his lips, wondering what the tip of John's dick tasted like. He tore his golden eyes away when John began pushing you forward.

Your hands came up to rest on Bob's thighs, using him as leverage to hold yourself up as John guided himself into you. By the third stroke, he was already setting a mean pace. The sound of slapping and squelching made Bob's dick harder, if that was even possible at this point.

John let out a huff like a bull, similar to when he was in combat. His hands were gripping your waist painfully hard, hips snapping up into you. You could already feel the bruises that were going to be left behind. Your head was hovering over Bob's dick, mouth open and panting above the tip.

Bob's hands moved away from his dick and up to your hair, moving it out of your face and holding it back in his hands. You moaned when you felt him tug at it. Not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough to leave a comfortable sting behind.

You kept your eyes locked on Bob's happy trail. You felt your pussy clench around John's dick at the thought of your nose pressing into the soft patch of hair above Bob's dick. Before John could make a quip, you practically engulfed Bob down your throat, earning a rather loud moan from him.

"S-shit, hey! Slow down, please," Bob panted and found his hands dropping down from your head and onto John's legs. He gripped his calves, blunt nails sinking into the muscle.

You gagged loudly on Bob's dick, pulling up and off him, spitting out the glob of saliva you had building in your mouth. Your hand was instantly sticky, stroking the base of Bob's dick while your mouth suckled on the tip.

John remained behind you, bucking his hips wildly into you. Your pussy felt so good around him, so wet and warm. Whenever the tip hit your g-spot, deep up in you, you clenched tight down on John and moaned around Bob's dick. Despite your clenching, it was still easy for him to pump in and out of you. He'd have to thank Bob later somehow, for getting you ready so well for him.

Your last moan around Bob's dick nearly had him cumming then and there. He was trying to last as long as John could, but he was already so sensitive from you blowing him earlier, before John even joined you. Bob wasn't ready to have the night end so soon.

But just like your current evening, things don't always go as planned. Before Bob could even warn you, his balls suddenly tightened, a sharp gasp escaping him that sent you in a frenzy.

Whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth you stroked with your hand. You tried to make it sloppy, keep him lubed up with your spit and his pre-cum. You liked the taste of Bob. He was sweeter than you imagined. He'd been working hard to be healthier, and it paid off. You were swallowing anything and everything he gave you.

"Taste so good, Bob," your tongue swirled along his slit, pulling off to pump his dick from balls to tip. "Can't wait to have you cum down my throa-"

You were cut off by Bob suddenly squirting his cum all over your face. You flinched when the warm liquid hit you square in the face, dripping down your nose. Bob was already apologizing profusely, hips still bucking wildly through his orgasm.

Meanwhile, John was behind you watching the scene unfold. He watched Bob's angry-looking dick finally shoot it's seed out, coaxing your face in its white and sticky substance. It made John gasp, losing his rhythm and staggering into you. He took a quick moment to refocus before picking up the pace again.

John gave your ass a few good smacks as he pounded into you. You were moaning around Bob's dick as you cleaned him up with your tongue. Bob, on the other hand, was practically knocked out entirely. His eyes were closed, thighs shaking from overstimulation. But he didn't push you away, he kept his hands on John's calves.

"You did so good for us tonight. So fucking good," John leaned forward and pressed his lips to your back, peppering your skin with kisses. He was rolling his hips deep into you, edging himself. Just like Bob, he wasn't ready to end the night just yet.

Once you were satisfied with your job at cleaning Bob up, you pulled off him and let your cheek rest against his inner thigh. You panted, holding onto Bob as John fucked you. Bob's arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders, almost like he was hugging you.

Your body rocked against his with each powerful thrust John gave you. You could feel your next orgasm approaching, building faster with each brutal hit to your g-spot. All you could blab out was John's name, weakly repeating it.

It didn't take long for John to finally cum deep in you. His hips suddenly jerked up and he locked himself in you. His body shook as he filled you with his seed. You weren't much further behind, soon creaming around his length.

You rocked your hips through your orgasm, milking John for all he had and could give you then, before your hips stilled. You felt John soften inside you, but he had no intention of pulling out just yet.

He fell back on your bed, staring up at your ceiling. John's head was nearly about to fall off the foot of the bed, but Bob's tight hold on his legs kept him safe and secure. You kept your own hold on Bob, nearly falling asleep.

After a while, John shifted in bed. He pulled his shaky legs out from under you and Bob, grabbing you by the waist again. You let out a whine, not ready for another round. John let out scoff and rolled his eyes. "Relax, I'm just getting us comfortable."

You hummed when John moved you up higher in bed, pushing Bob a little at his shoulders for him to scoot in the bed to make room. Bob let out a quiet moan when his head sank into one of your pillows, his eyes closing. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around him and holding him. Your head rested on his chest, right above his heart.

John eventually settled on the other side of you. He laid on his stomach, like you. His right leg was tangled in between yours, his right arm thrown over you and Bob. John's left leg dangled off your bed while his left arm laid under the pillow he was using. Bob's free arm that wasn't trapped under you reached across you, his hand laying on John's back. His fingers traced John's soft skin, swirling circles and random patterns. Your bedroom eventually fell into a comfortable quietness.

There wasn't anything that necessarily needed to be said, but the future now remained uncertain. What came next? When you all recovered, would you pretend like nothing ever happened? Deep down, you didn't want that. You enjoyed spending time with John and Bob, you enjoyed your time with the three of you together even more now.

You were thankful to not be the one to talk next. As much as you were enjoying the silence, it began to be almost too quiet.

"Think we can make this happen again?" John asked, leaning up now and looking over at the two of you. Bob was surprised John wanted to make it happen again, but he can't say he disagreed.

You opened your eyes and looked at Bob, before turning enough to look at John. He had a smirk on his face, one that was far too smug for your liking. You let out a scoff and pushed his head a little, playfully. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Walker. Who said this was gonna happen again?"

You let your head fall back down on Bob's chest, feeling John lay on you and pepper kisses on your face as an apology. Bob smiled down at the two of you continuing to listen to your obvious sarcasm of not enjoying yourself to John who was asking you a dozen questions all at once. Bob's right hand ran through John's golden hair as he sat quietly in his own thoughts, his left hand coming down to your face, gently stroking it.

"I wouldn't mind doing this again," Bob admitted, cutting through you and John's teasing. He met eyes with John, who was now fully grinning ear to ear. It was like John knew if Bob agreed, then you would too.

"See? Bobby's down. So what do you say?" John flinched when you brought your hand up to flick his nose. You muttered how he was an idiot before rolling onto your back.

Bob wrapped an arm around you while John laid in between your legs, chin resting on your stomach. You let out a hum, stroking John's face.

"Fine," you agree, pinching John's cheeks between your fingers. "But I want to watch you choke on Bob's dick next time."

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swordgrace · 2 days ago

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❝ 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. ❞

┊ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: forced to attend a charity gala for val, you and bucky navigate a new life in the spotlight. the only caveat is, he’s pining for you — and he’s pining hard.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: (post-tb*) bucky barnes x fem!reader.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.0K.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: light nsfw, very mild smut, friends to lovers, yearning bucky, confession of feelings, bucky is silly & charming, lots of fluff, heavy making out, neck kissing, sexual tension, body worship, light dry humping, groping & lots of touching, really sweet ending.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this might be one of my favorite fics I’ve written lately ngl :’) I just adore a softer side to Bucky where he’s happy. If enough people like this fic, I have a part 2 planned! ❤️ I hope you all enjoy! 🫶

Frivolous events have never been your forte.

Thousands of crystals dangle from a gaudy chandelier, hanging high from a scaling ceiling in the middle of the ballroom. Light dances in luminescent refraction, spilling onto the pale marble below.

It’s mesmerizing, a worthwhile distraction that effectively silences the hum of conversation buzzing around you. Excitement blankets the air, teeming with business disguised as laughter.

In the space for reflection, you find yourself more discomforted by your dress than the atmosphere. Philanthropists, chairmen, politicians — it all felt exceedingly ‘larger-than-life’ for you.

The New Avengers Foundation Gala was the solution to a cut in funding Valentina had experienced in the wake of O.X.E Group’s dismantlement.

In the upper wings of the hall, were showrooms dedicated to the new mightiest heroes of a futuristic generation. It was all too polished, too modernized, too corporate — it was somewhat soulless, each of you washed down to a mere moniker.

Attendees, patrons, and donors alike were thoroughly engrossed with Valentina’s peacocking display — and the press loved it, too.

Banners hung from the rafters, bearing a glamour shot of each member of the team, all wearing new gear that held an exaggerated flair. It was strange, seeing your face plastered there — haunting, really.

Unfortunately for the team, you were all along for the ride; a tumultuous, unpredictable ride that left you feeling mildly uncomfortable.

It was as if you were living in a skin that didn’t belong to you, catering to people who saw you as an accessory, a curiosity.

Indigo silk barely touched the floor beneath you, off-the-shoulder sleeves accentuating your neckline as if you had something to show. The wardrobe wasn’t something you’d selected; Val chose it.

Constricted within your fabric coffin, you continued to marvel at the general splendor of the pavilion, cradling a half-drank glass of champagne.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky Barnes’s eyes had followed you across the room for the past hour, his gaze disarmingly soft. It was to check in on you, he’d told himself, but it extended beyond that.

To any outsider, he resembled a man yearning for someone who didn’t have a clue, wistful and contemplative. Friends don’t look at one another in the way Bucky looks at you.

Discomfort rippled from you in waves, slithering like some fever over your skin, tugging at the corners of your thoughts.

Whenever you took a step, you felt as if you might collapse from the pressure, or simply from the balancing act on stilettos.

From afar, Bucky was deliberating going to you, noticing the way Valentina had swarmed in with calculated, measured steps. She was dangerous, even still; and he didn’t trust her with you.

“God, you do clean up nicely,” Valentina’s biting tone sank into you like teeth, spiking your nervous system. “You know, I started to think you might’ve been a little hopeless.” She chimes, champagne in-hand.

Swiveling, you’re faced with your boss, the corner of her mouth pulled into a half-smirk. After everything, you’re still wary of her, never fully bringing your guard down in the process.

“Thanks,” With a low mumble, you can’t quite decipher if she’s paying you a compliment or mocking you — maybe it’s somewhere in between. “I’m not used to this.” You confessed, fingers tense around your glass.

“You’ll have to work on your posture,” She chided, clicking her tongue with faux disapproval. “Looks bad in the pictures.”

It was all optics with her — a team of government rejects rebranded as the new face of heroism, rebuilding the legacy left behind by shoes too big to fill. Admittedly, she made you nervous; too sharp, too clever, a well-dressed viper.

Withholding the urge to retort with a quip of your own, you forced a smile, noticing photographers swimming in your peripheral like sharks.

“Turn around and give them a smile, yeah?” Valentina uttered, low enough for only you to hear. A hand fell flat against the back of your arm, turning you just in time to be bombarded by flashes of light and camera clicks.

With pearlescent teeth and a wolfish smile, she stood firmly beside you, guiding you through it. Your own smile was threadbare and pensive, as if it pained you to play along.

It all seemed scripted, rehearsed, fake. Everything lacked authenticity, and it grated on you through the photographs.

Bucky was already in-motion, weaving through the gathering crowd, departing a conversation with an investor mid-sentence. He wouldn’t call it a rescue mission, but he knew you, knew how anxious it made you.

His brief stint in Washington as a congressman afforded him time in the spotlight, pressed beneath mountains of questions and constant prying.

Quietly, he slipped in from the fringes, coming to stand beside you. Valentina noticed, but made no motion to dismiss him, allowing the press to make a frenzy of it all.

Vibranium graced the small of your back, a kiss of ice through the silk that clung to you, the gesture comforting. Realizing that Bucky had joined you, you began to relax, anchoring yourself to his presence.

When the cameras receded, the weight within your chest had lifted, replaced by relief as you turned to Bucky. “Thank you,” You murmured, appreciative. “Don’t go anywhere.” It was a soft plea, one that he heeded.

“Mr. Barnes,” Valentina spoke as if he’d irked her in some regard, polished nails tapping against her champagne glass. “Suit’s a little outdated, but we can work with that.” She remarked condescendingly.

Bucky huffed, hovering near your right side, one hand shoved into his pocket. “Yeah, well,” He shrugged, nonchalant. “I’m a little old-fashioned.” His own wry joke prompted him to smile.

With a snarky hum, Valentina dismissed his jest, peering over her shoulder as an older man approached, a New Avengers pin on his lapel. “Ah, Senator Locke. It’s a pleasure to have you at our little event.”

Involuntarily, you stayed close to Bucky, glued to his hip whenever the crowds grew thick. Even with his newfound status as an Avenger, many people still saw the Winter Soldier, a Soviet machine, capable of such destruction.

“Wouldn’t miss it, Ms. Fontaine. You’ve done excellent work, keeping Americans safe with the team you’ve assembled.” He chimed, gaze flickering toward you and Bucky; you, in particular.

“The safety and security of our citizens is our highest priority. The Avengers work with that at the forefront of their mission,” Smooth, calculated and completely fake. “Your contribution is appreciated.”

Bucky bristled, holding back a scoff as he attempted to maintain some level of cordiality. A majority of the people in-attendance held Valentina in some high regard.

Every syllable that dripped from Valentina was steeped by a facade of altruism — she was purely in this for personal gain.

Senator Locke glanced at you, perhaps for too long, prompting you to shift your weight. The stilettos dug into your heels, feet aching as you cleared your throat.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. You’re certainly much prettier in-person than on a television screen.” Locke nodded, hand outstretched for a shake. Knowing that you’re left without options, you keep the gesture brief.

Through a clenched jaw and furrowed brows, Bucky bites his tongue, keeping himself in-check when the Senator brazenly remarks about your appearance. He was the essence of ire, stewing quietly beside you, digits clenched into his pocket.

“Oh,” It was all you could muster before Valentina shot you a pointed glare through gritted teeth. “Thank you, Senator. I suppose I wanted the world to see a new side of me.” God, it sounded so ridiculous.

“I would like to speak to you further about your involvement with the Avengers. Have you been to Washington?” He continued, and Valentina seemed poised to interject, capitalizing on the opportunity — in her own way.

“Senator, my team is incredibly busy with global threats and outreach efforts,” With another pensive, venomous smile, she tapped her now-empty glass. “Though, I’m certain she’d entertain a dance.”

The more he spoke, the more livid Bucky became, silently seething as he prepared for a scare tactic. He turned around, and one swipe of his phone had told him where Senator Locke’s address was.

As the proposition of a dance was placed into the open, you gawked, jaw unhinged as you closed your mouth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t object — you were playing the part, catering to strangers for funding.

Waved over by another gaggle of shareholders, Valentina hummed, heels clicking over polished marble. “Senator, if you’ll excuse me.”

As she departed, you were left with Locke and Bucky. However, Bucky had a scheme of his own, throwing on a charming smile, maliciously deceptive as he cleared his throat.

“So, about Washington …” Locke began, but not before Bucky could interject.

He leaned down, low and calculating, murmuring something indecipherable into the Senator’s ear. You couldn’t quite discern what was being exchanged between the two, but Locke’s face had turned as white as a sheet.

“I deeply apologize for the offense, M—Mr. Barnes, I …” As pale as a ghost, the man hastily nodded several times over, swallowing the lump within his throat before stepping away. “Pardon me.”

Bewildered, you watched in stunned silence as the Senator quickly retreated, weaving back through the sea of patrons to find Valentina.

It left you shocked, brows creased in confusion, craning to glance at Bucky with a hint of amusement. “What was that all about? You looked like you scared him into an early grave.” You mused, head cocked to one side.

A hint of smugness crept onto his features, turning to look at you, visibly playful. “Told him that I knew his address and how to track him.” Bucky chimed, gesturing for you to follow him elsewhere.

“Bucky, you didn’t!” With a conspiratorial gasp, you were swift to follow, abandoning your lukewarm glass of champagne on the table behind you. “How did you know where he lived, anyway?”

“Google.” Holding up his phone from the confines of his pocket, his tone held a charming lilt, more upbeat now that Locke and Valentina were gone.

Smooth jazz reverberated from the ballroom, a live band dresses in finely-tailored suits situated in one corner. There were plenty of people dancing already, a good place to assimilate and disappear from prying senators.

With a bubbly laugh, you slipped inside with him, heartbeat beginning to settle, anxiousness receding altogether. Having him by your side seemed to ease whatever discomfort you’d experienced before.

“Thank you for that,” A sigh of relief escaped you, hands twisting together, fingers locked before your navel. “I don’t like being here, and I don’t …” Trailing off, you felt Bucky’s gaze shift to you.

A tender stare settled over your countenance, openly admiring your beauty; it was involuntary, revolving around you as if you were the sun itself. “It’s alright.” He murmured, able to understand your frustration.

Pushing a tremulous exhale through your nose, you mustered up a smile, palm running over the underside of your forearm. “Sometimes I miss the way things were before we became Avengers.”

Valentina would’ve labeled you ungrateful, shaming you for being apprehensive at the opportunity presented to you. Maybe you should’ve been happy about it all, but the public light wasn’t for you.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, lips pulling into a half-smile, placating. “Me too.” Despite his short-lived career as a congressman, the current limelight made him miss it; just a little bit.

The friendship you formed with Bucky was meaningful to you, but some sliver wanted more, craved something else. It whispered between stolen glances, hands brushing but never firm, eyes following one another around a room.

Between rooms of shareholders, media, and senators, he was the prettiest thing here — the only thing interesting enough to keep you grounded.

Broad shoulders were accentuated by the fit of his blazer, white dress shirt complete with a bowtie; so handsome that it made you pause. Bucky was always attractive, but more so now, inches apart and smiling.

“Before he comes back, interested in a dance?” Bucky propositions, his question seemingly innocuous. He narrowly avoided dancing at a previous Congress gala, but this seemed as good a time as any.

Smitten, you attempt to swallow the twinge of nervousness that pools within your belly, still rubbing at your arm. “I might step on you, if that’s okay with you. These heels are killing me.”

Bucky chuckles, unperturbed by the idea of being stepped on mid-sway. “I think I can handle it.” He offers a hand, metallic palm shimmering beneath the crystalline glow, visibly reassuring.

Steeling yourself, flesh slips into icy metal, soothing the heat that’s made residence in your skin. Slowly, the both of you step out onto the ballroom floor, over sparkling tile, intermingling amongst the crowds.

Some time ago, he was somewhat adverse to touch — felt undeserving, felt as if he’d ruin something good. When your hand slipped into his, he found himself craving it, but only if it came from you.

There were plenty of fleeting moments; moments that still whispered from the recesses of his mind, bright spots slipping through the dark. You grounded him; you were a sanctuary.

A slow jazz ballad blankets the room, chandelier glistening overhead, idle chatter humming in the spaces between. Gently, Bucky’s hand finds your waist, digits slipping over satiny, azure fabric, the texture soft.

It was muscle memory for him, lamenting over memories from nearly a century ago; for you, it was somewhat awkward. Joined hands drift to your sides in a classic waltz, something slow and idle.

Baccarat Rouge 540 — it’s Bucky’s cologne, an amalgamation of woodsy scents, imbued with strains of amber and a spice of something floral. It’s rich, a smell that you commit to memory, being this close together.

As you slowly turn about the floor, you decide to shatter the silence, gaze fluttering toward the stubbled slope of his jaw. “You’re really good at this,” You muse, hushed. “Very smooth.”

A bemused huff escaped him, accompanied by a glint of pearlescent teeth. “It’s been a long time,” He confessed, keeping you close. “You haven’t stepped on me yet.” Bucky remarks teasingly.

“We just started, there’s still plenty of time,” Playful, you return his quip with one of your own, minding his feet as you shift to the right. “Hopefully Valentina isn’t upset about the Senator thing.”

“She’ll live,” Bucky murmured, still sore about the entire ordeal. She was vicious, calculating; there was always an ulterior motive with her, wreathed in shadows. “I don’t trust her with you.”

While you were flattered by his concern, you felt that you could handle yourself, despite the uncertainty. “I’ll be alright, Buck. I think she took advantage of my discomfort, that’s all.”

“That’s my point. She’s dangerous.” Through pinched brows, his gaze fell to you, wrought with something incendiary. He was protective over you for a multitude of reasons. “I want to keep you safe.”

His cadence softened to a gentle lull, one that filled your stomach with butterflies. The way he stared at you — it didn’t seem strictly platonic, but maybe you were reading into it too much.

“Thanks.” Little more than a mere whisper, you danced with him still, swaying to the melodramatic hum of the music. The both of you seemed to settle, enjoying the presence of one another; he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

The heel of your stiletto happened to wobble, but he was swift in steadying you, hand tight around your waist. “Easy,” Bucky murmured, a brief chuckle bubbling from his throat. “I’ve got you, doll.”

It was an innocuous nickname, sweet; Bucky had called you it only on a handful of occasions, and all of them were typically playful.

The way he said it this time almost held a weight to it, as if there were underlying implications.

“Still haven’t stepped on you,” Teasingly, you muster up a smile, one that makes Bucky’s heart stop. It’s accompanied by a flutter of lashes, a soft laugh, a gaze tender enough to melt through him. “Yet.”

Bucky huffed, giving you a look as he drew you closer, involuntarily. The distance between bodies had grown thin, breath hitching within your throat when you realized it.

Shy, your hand came to perch against his chest, digits brushing over his bowtie, throat stirring with a low hum. Silence settled in between, a tenuous pause full of unspoken feelings, thoughts left unsaid.

Through parted lips, Bucky decided to break the ice, dark lashes kissing the skin beneath his eyes. Jazz continued to fill the ballroom with the croon of trumpets and gentle piano, the both of you waltzing in tentative steps.

“You look really beautiful.” Bucky murmured, swallowing the growing lump within his throat. It wasn’t often that he paid compliments like these, but his charm was still perfectly intact, albeit rusty.

He’d been on a handful of dates after the coding in his brain had been broken; none of them were fulfilling. There was a lack of true understanding, a baseless connection.

Until he met you, and he found himself fearful — you were something to lose. You left him feeling seen in ways he didn’t think possible, comfortable to be himself, just Bucky Barnes, the rawest iteration of his heart.

Flustered, you smiled at him, attempting to keep your heartbeat from teetering off of the edge. “Thank you, Buck,” Smiling still, you mustered the courage to look at him fully. “You … You look really handsome, too.”

Bucky chuckled as if you’d said something humorous, vibranium palm cold over yours, thumb lightly tracing your knuckles. “It’s the bowtie, isn’t it?” He mused, wisps of dark hair framing his countenance.

“Mm-hm,” Dimples formed at either corner of your mouth, gaze softening as he gently spun you around. “It ties everything together.” Your tongue-and-cheek joke almost made you cringe, nose wrinkling.

“Funny. Did you mean to make that joke?” He teases, and you feel heat warm your features, smitten as you look elsewhere. God, you were perfect — beautiful beyond comprehension.

“Accidental,” With a soft huff, you clear your throat, deciding to press the matter further and be serious. “Really, Bucky. You look wonderful.” The tender cadence of your tone had magnetized him.

“I don’t hold a candle to you,” Bucky utters, voice thick with a pleasant husk, one that itches at the back of your mind. “Nobody in here does.” It’s that soft admittance that makes you shiver from delight.

His eyes never leave you, and suddenly, everything feels too real, too close; the flush of his lips entice you, and you’re left wanting.

Stunned speechless, you quiet, stewing within the tension that brews between the both of you. It’s been simmering for months — part of you wondered when to let it snap, but you’re afraid of the consequences.

Bucky deliberates on what to do next, what to say; your mouth is dangerously close, lips parted, gaze innocuously doe-eyed. He’s imagined it often, what it might’ve been like to kiss you — and it’s always the sweetest fantasy.

“Bucky,” Words hang heavy within your throat, confession sizzling away like floating ash. There’s so much left unsaid — he knows it, and so do you. “Do you really mean that?” Serious, you let your voice hush.

The both of you have danced around the burning flame smoldering between you for a long while, now. It was beginning to reach out, take you both, and Bucky found himself preparing to take that plunge with enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” He says it softly, as if it’s reserved only for you, and he feels nervous. You make him want more, more than he ever thought possible. “I mean it, doll.” Bucky utters, and he’s a second away from bridging the gap.

In a room full of people, you’re comfortable enough to simply exist, fading into the background, and he fades with you.

It’s as if time slows, suspended in the moment — you want to live in it, blinking in sluggish flickers of your eyelashes. The erratic hum of your heartbeat sings a melody beneath your chest, hand absently clenching around his metal one.

He’s thinking of kissing you — any unsteadiness shifts into certainty, and the longer he stares at you, the more his resolve crumbles. Bucky tilts closer, enough for you to feel his breath feather over your mouth.

“Kiss me, Bucky.”

That’s all it takes — it’s his name on your tongue, spoken with such tenderness that he fears he’ll fall apart in front of you, unraveling.

A hitch forms within the bottom of his throat, and he’s moving inward, lips a mere breadth apart. His mouth is almost on yours, disarmingly gentle, and then it’s all ripped away.

“Bucky!”

Congressman Gary’s voice pierces through the tension, deflating it entirely, and the tension slithers away into a state of dormancy. The music begins to come to a close, a sense of finality present as you recoil, features burning with heat.

When he realizes how close you were, he’s left frustrated, noticing that you’ve already receded. Soured, his gaze floats past your shoulder and toward Gary, who seems eager to speak with him.

The smile you give him is cordial, a kindly facade that does little to mask your true feelings. He can see it, lingering beneath your eyes — you’re disappointed, but you smother it anyway.

“Sorry about that.” Bucky mumbles a grousing apology, but you’re quick to dismiss it. He tries to turn on the practiced politician’s charm — but it falters when he thinks about kissing you.

“It’s okay,” Reassuring, you squeeze his metal hand and step away, allowing him space to speak with Gary. “I’m going to find Yelena.” You nod, and he’s reluctant to let you go, but he does anyway.

With a soft nod, Bucky watches you go, slipping away through the crowd in your indigo gown. He’s cursing himself, left sorely shattered in the wake of it all, his head swimming, thoughts scrambled entirely.

He doesn’t register whatever jargon Gary throws his way — something about shareholders, but Bucky is too preoccupied with watching you leave to care.

Your feet are killing you — a raw blister has rubbed into your heel, splitting skin, pangs of a dull ache shooting into your legs. As soon as you cross the threshold into the Watchtower, you’re discarding the stilettos, bare feet crossing over cold tile.

For the duration of the gala, you avoided Valentina, speaking cordially with those who approached, but it was exceedingly difficult.

Bucky hadn’t left your mind — he’d invaded it, a feverish haze that you didn’t want to escape from. The dance left you wrought with exhilaration, wondering if whatever you felt wasn’t misinterpreted like you thought.

The team disperses not long after arrival, a mutual exhaustion from an evening of prying eyes, camera flashes, and being brandished like a polished accessory.

In the inky gloom that pools through tinted window panes, moonlight catches over dark flooring, the night unobstructed by clouds. A pair of stilettos dangles from your hand, footsteps light as you stop to lean against the island.

Relief washes through you as you rock the balls of your feet against the tile, happy to be rid of your high-heels. It’s quiet — too quiet, save for the sound of footsteps behind you.

“Kicked the heels off quick.” Bucky’s timbre cuts through the hush, warm and amiable as he makes a round to the refrigerator.

His bowtie is loosened, first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, blazer draped in a pleated heap over one shoulder. The sight is devastatingly handsome, causing your breath to hitch within your throat.

“My feet are already thanking me,” You remark, leaning against the dark, polished granite. Bucky takes a swig of water, vibranium hand closed around a cool glass. “How was your talk with Gary?”

He was still feeling the stinging disappointment of not being able to kiss you at the gala. Bucky was attempting to discern how to broach the topic with you, or at the very least, come clean about how he felt.

It was easier said than done, wanting someone that he thought he was entirely undeserving of. The way you stared at him, leaned in, said his name — it was all he could think about, consuming every waking thought.

“Nothing important,” Bucky shrugs, ogling you from over the rim of his glass. “Could’ve sent a text.” He muses, body jostling with a soft scoff.

“Oh.” You hum, your tone sounding somewhat awkward. Whatever happened at the gala was something you were desperate to talk about, addressing unspoken feelings.

That’s all you can muster, a meager ‘oh’ as you fumble about. Swallowing the lump within your throat, a gap of silence settles between, thick with a cloud of tension.

Bucky deliberates, still clutching onto his glass as if it’s anchoring him to reality. It begins to splinter beneath the pressure of vibranium.

“Well, I … I think I’m going to go change and lay down. I’m eager to get out of this dress,” Sheepishly, you shuffle around the island and slowly begin to make your way towards the corridor. “Goodnight, Buck.”

As you awkwardly make for the mouth of the hallway, Bucky calmly places his glass into the sink, bristling with a newfound determination. He makes the choice to go after you, finish what began at the gala.

With measured strides, he’s following after you. He watched you leave once already tonight without kissing you — he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

“Wait.” He stops you, a gentle palm on your waist, cadence laced with a thinly-veiled want. “You’re gonna run off on me like that, doll?”

Listening to the pace behind you climb in intensity, you whirl around, nearly colliding into Bucky as he plants a chaste kiss against your mouth.

It’s disarming, but fleeting, brief — he’s wading into your waters. “Bucky, what …” You whisper, doe-eyed and awestruck.

Exhilarated and breathless, you’re stunned when his stubbled mouth fans over yours, and the contact is too hurried, too hasty. Yet, he burns your lips with the kiss, and you’re left wanting more.

“I should’ve done that sooner.” He confesses, tone dropping to a warm timbre that makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. Your breath hitches, gaze wide-eyed and wanton.

“You should’ve.” Breathless, you concur, lashes fluttering as they kiss the skin beneath your eyes. Fingers tense around the backs of your stilettos, and you’re waiting.

Bucky’s jaw clenches, blue eyes burning as he peers down at you — azure dress, dazzling eyes, taking his breath away.

He exhales; the sound is sharp, poignant, excited — his gaze traces over your countenance, across delicate features and the curve of your mouth.

His body is close, chests nearly brushing, hand still hovering around your waist. “May I?” Bucky’s tone softens, a humming purr that makes your knees wobble.

“Please, Buck.” Lips parted, and you’re careening up on your toes to meet him halfway. He dips down, mouth clamoring for yours, lips brushing in a heated swarm.

Stifling a gasp, your hand drops your stilettos as if they’re a meaningless thing, listening to them clatter against the tile. They both gather against his chest, muscle firm beneath your palms.

Passion bleeds through his lips, certain and steady, vibranium hand shifting to cup your jaw. You shiver from the contact, icy metal sweeping over burning skin, other hand holding your hips.

It’s fireworks — months of pining, of dancing around smothered feelings, only to explode to the surface. Satisfaction ripples through you, a warm elation that curls around your bones.

Wisps of brunette tickle your cheeks, his hair soft as it brushes over your face. The pleasant scratch of his beard grounds you, a reminder that all of this is real, visceral — not a fantasy.

There’s a lull in the kiss as you draw away, chest constricting with soft, excitable sighs. “I’ve been waiting on you, Bucky Barnes.” You whisper, unable to keep yourself from beaming, teeth and all.

“Wish I got the hint,” Bucky grumbles, his metal thumb circling over the soft flesh beneath your jaw, pressing a kiss to your crown. “You’re beautiful.” He murmurs, appreciative as he cups your face.

“I wasn’t very good at dropping hints,” The softness of your confession pulls a chuckle from him, arm still caging you against his body. “I just — You’re incredible, Bucky.” Your words come as a surprise, but aren’t unwanted.

A rosy pallor clings to his features, slipping beneath his beard as he plants another kiss to your forehead, gaze warm as it follows the curve of your mouth. “I don’t know about that, sweetheart.” He admires your sentiment, nonetheless.

“I know,” Insistent, you gently tap his chest, fingertips hovering above his collarbone. “I know that I adore you just the way you are.” Affection curled within your tone, sweet and tender.

Bucky paused, a slow smile spreading over his features, lashes fluttering a time or two. There was something raw about the way he stared at you, as if you were the thing he lived for, breathed for.

A comfortable bout of silence slipped between, his hand still stroking over your jaw, fingertips circling your cheekbone. “I think you’re perfect.” He stated, as if it were fact.

A hitch formed within your throat, taken aback by the sincerity of his words. His stare never wavered, exceedingly soft as you coaxed him in for another kiss; and he didn’t protest.

It was soft, wrought with ardor, something that stole every wisp of air from your lungs. Bucky only craved your touch — you were what he wanted, everything he wanted.

Physical intimacy wasn’t something he’d experienced for years; between HYDRA, the ice, scrambled memories, on the run … It never allowed him time to let it sink in, that he could be desirable.

The way your hands caressed over his chest pulled a low grunt from his mouth, lost within entangled lips as he reciprocated.

“Do you …” Murmuring against his mouth, Bucky stilled, lashes fluttering in rapid succession. “Do you want to come to my room?” You asked, insides stirring with butterflies.

A brief pause settled between the two of you, the idea being turned over within his mind. The implications were there — what you wanted, what he wanted.

“I’ll follow you, doll.” Bucky murmured, cadence low and warm as it curled around you, eliciting a brief shiver. His vibranium hand smoothed over the small of your back, and he stooped to retrieve your shoes, too.

Hushed, the both of you strolled for your room, at the very end of the main level. It was a corridor you shared with Bob and Ava, typically quiet with minimal disturbances.

The rhythm of your heart had kicked into a gallop, slamming beneath your breast as you traipsed barefoot over cold tile, Bucky sticking close to your side.

He was smiling, and so were you; anticipation hung heavy, a subtle expectancy that you were eager to entertain. As you came up to your door, you pressed the button, letting it open with a soft hiss.

The room you’d concocted for yourself was home — warm and comely, surrounded by all facets of your personality, vibrant with color. It was very lived-in, bed partially made, items scattered over your vanity.

Bucky had been inside a handful of times, drinking in the details when he slipped inside behind you. He placed your stilettos down, pacing forward with a tender gaze.

“Always thought you had a knack for decorating,” He teased, cadence disarmingly gentle, little more than a soft husk. “Smells good in here, too.” It’s all you — floral scents, sweeter aromas that he’s associated with you.

“It’s a mess of colors,” You muse, nose wrinkling as he moves to sit down on the edge of your bed, forearms resting against his knees. “It’s the honeycomb lavender scent, if you’re interested.”

Bucky chuckles, flashing a glimpse of pearlescent teeth, canting his head to one side. “Yeah?” He muses, gaze boring into you like fire, melting right through you with ease.

“Mm-hm, I can get you a bottle.” Playful, you step closer, lingering within arm’s reach. Being around him like this still feels surreal, as if reality hasn’t fully settled in.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, coaxing you closer until you’re standing in-between his legs. “Might take you up on that.” He utters, palms settling over your hips, thumbs tracing circles over your dress.

Soft fingertips shift to caress over his hairline, carding into brunette tresses. It pulls a low, content sigh from his lips, mouth still upturned into a light smile, gaze tracing across your figure.

He holds you tightly when you dip down to kiss him, lips flush, colliding in a passionate kiss. Hands trace reverently along your sides, and you shiver beneath the gentle contact.

Metal fingertips find the zipper at the middle of your spine, hesitant; he looks to you for consent, and you’re quick to nod.

“Let me.” In a hushed tone, you gently tug at your dress, unraveling azure fabric from your body. Bucky unzips you with care, dragging it down until it kisses the small of your back.

The dress piles in a heap at your feet, leaving you in your undergarments, eliciting a sigh from his mouth. He appraises you with rapture, metal palm akin to a touch of ice to your hip.

“You’re gorgeous.” Bucky huffs, mesmerized and awestruck as he coaxes you into his lap. Your knees come to squeeze at either side of his hips, sweet breath feathering over his face.

“Thanks,” Flustered, you accept his compliment without protest, hands loosely gathering over the bowtie that he’s partially undone. “So are you.”

He cracks a smile, a brief chuckle splitting through his chest as he plants a kiss to your jaw. “Hm,” He hums, low and content, hands caressing over your hips. “You mind if I …”

“You don’t have to ask, Buck.” Through fluttering lashes and another dizzying, pretty smile, he leans forward to kiss you, mouths connecting in a flurry of passion. He’s tender, but not excessively so.

Mouths mold together, his stubble scraping over your maw, a reminder that this is all real. Your breath hitches, excitement pooling within your belly.

His kiss makes your legs quiver, fingers gingerly shifting towards the buttons still holding his dress shirt together.

Digits tense over his sternum, each action marked by a gentle affection that Bucky craves. His hands leave your hips, moving to tug his bowtie off, encouraging you to remove his shirt.

It’s sluggish, meant to savor — he’s still kissing you even as you’re untethering each button, pushing the white fabric off of him.

Bucky exhales, a contented noise that drags through his chest, steady and sure, throat bobbing as he swallows. He finds a purpose with you; something clean, something gentle.

A flicker of nervousness stirs within him; he hasn’t had something like this in decades. You’re something sacred, something to lose, and he looks at you like you’re the sun, as if he hasn’t felt warmth in years.

He’s still in a white, sleeveless undershirt, material stretched snugly over his burly musculature. The silvery glint of dog-tags sparkles beneath the dim lighting of your bedroom.

A tangle of now-faded scars sits at the divide where vibranium kisses flesh, drawing your gaze there, oozing with empathy.

Lips collide, and collide again — a tangle of heat and brewing desire. He kisses you as if you might slip right through his fingers, stopping only to let his mouth press over your throat.

“Bucky.” You sigh, feeling his hand settle over your hip, the other slipping to stroke over your ribs. Metal smooths across your body, caressing until he cups your breast.

Soft fingertips trace over his chest, moving to gently grasp at the nape of his neck, threading over his hair. He continues to lavish your neck in sweet, lingering kisses, kneading at your clothed chest.

Desire pulls at the fringes of your mind, creeping in like some haze. His mouth peppers a trail, from beneath your jaw to your collar, and back up again. He repeats it a time or two, stroking your hip.

His mouth works at you still, drifting from your jaw to the silky expanse of your throat, scruffy beard scratching pleasantly against your skin.

One of your palms settles over his vibranium bicep, firm and icy underneath your flesh. Bucky shudders as if it’s a phantom sensation, lips parting with surprise.

Your embrace is fearless, and you touch his arm as if it’s just that, just him; not an instrument of destruction like he used to believe. His mouth finds yours again, bleeding passion.

Quiet, he grips you tightly before standing, ensuring that one of your legs settles over his hip. Bucky moves you back into your pillows, pressed further into the mattress, lips still joined.

He settles between your legs, pulling a soft moan from your mouth, noses brushing over one another. Your hand idly drags along his metal forearm, the other gliding beneath his undershirt, feeling along his abdomen.

Your fingertips are like kisses of silk — affectionate, tender, and delicate. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this, as if he were something to covet, someone worth loving.

Coming to rest on either side of him, your knees idly squeeze at his ribs, hand continuing to ascend. Bucky indulges you, using one arm to tug off his undershirt, dog-tags dangling toward your collar.

Something incendiary resides within his gaze, warm and smoldering intermingled with adoration. Through a momentary gap, you exhale, warm breath pluming over his lips before you resume the kiss.

With a soft sigh, you’re turning into him, chest brushing against his, other hand drifting to grasp at his bicep. His mouth is ceaseless, constant — you’re lost within his lips.

The warm flesh of his hand returns to knead at your breast, rolling over flesh, tingles of bliss shooting through your body.

Bodies bump together, flush; Bucky shivers when your hips seem to grind against his own, producing a friction that nearly shatters his resolve. He wants to; he thinks about it often.

He’s deliberate, attentive; Bucky kisses you as if you’re the center of everything, tender as it stretches on for several moments.

Kisses edge with something desirous, and you withdraw to catch your breath, visibly smitten. He moves toward your throat again, dipping further until he finds your collarbone.

“Bucky,” Another low, pleading moan ripples through your chest, a sound that he’s desperate to hear more of. “Bucky, please.” You sigh, satisfied and yearning for more.

There’s a moment of him continuing — metal fingers fisting into the sheets, walking the fine line of restraint. Desire rages between the both of you like a burning wildfire.

Again, he lavishes kisses over your chest, trailing towards the soft juncture between your shoulder and throat. After leaving his mark there, he finds your mouth once more, and kisses hard.

Reciprocating, the heat of entangled mouths lasts for what feels like a lifetime; it’s like fireworks dancing in your belly, nerves electrified, and you’re soaring, floating.

It slows to a crawl when he draws away, settled comfortably between your thighs. “I want to do this the right way.” He drawls, hot breath feathering over your visage.

“What’s wrong?” Thinking it was something to do with you, the sudden pause in your heated proclivities struck you as concerning.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Bucky doesn’t stray far, still hovering above you, propped up on one arm. The other moves to cup your jaw, warm and soothing. “You deserve a first date before all of this.” He muses, a twinkle in his eye.

Relieved, you can’t help but smile, flustered and completely enamored with him. “For a second, I thought I’d scared you off.” You murmur, sweet and playful as you trace your fingers over his chest.

“Not in the slightest,” He utters, and for a second, he looks razed. “You’ve got any idea what you do to me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s tone drops to a husky purr, and it makes your head spin.

“I have an inkling,” Through an excitable sigh, you relax when his lips press against your jaw, lingering and affectionate. “You might have to show me.”

Bucky huffs, gaze somewhat half-lidded, eclipsed by both ardor and desire. You can tell he wants you, but he wants to show a little chivalry; it’s ridiculously attractive.

“I want to show you, believe me,” He assures, lips still climbing over your cheek, sealing beside the corner of your mouth. “I want to take you out first, that’s all.”

“When are you taking me out?” You muse, lips still tugged into a smile. The fact that he cares enough for this means the world to you, and to him.

Bucky couldn’t recall the last time he’d really taken a girl out, and meant it. The look on your face was enchanting, full of mirth and delight as you caressed his collarbone.

“After recon in Kaunas,” He chuckles, moving to lay down beside you. Still, he doesn’t go anywhere, drawing you right into the warmth of his chest, hand holding tightly to your hip. “Gives me time to figure out how to impress you.”

The laughter that tumbled from your lips made him feel alive; it got a faint smile out of him, mouth crinkling at either corner. “You don’t need to impress me,” You assure. “I just want to be with you.”

With a nonplussed hum, his brows furrowed together, chest falling as he exhaled. “You’re perfect,” Bucky murmured, planting a kiss against your crown. “Me too, doll.”

Exhaustion began to creep up, and you were too tired to throw your pajamas on, comfortably curled into his side. He continued to caress from your hip to your spine, his breathing evening out.

“Don’t go anywhere, Buck.” Through a soft whisper, your tone is fringed with grogginess, as if you’re actively staving off sleep. He huffs, with no intention of leaving you anytime soon; or forever, if you wanted that.

“I’m not,” He presses a kiss against your forehead when you begin to succumb to sleep, lightly tugging your sheets around your body. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #thunderbolts #thunderbolts x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel smut

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rafeslvbug · 2 days ago

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your last little blurb was so cute!! could you do one that corresponds to it about when nfl!rafe hurt his leg and he cried and let reader help him for weeks??

(i’ve done smthing similar when he injured his leg while married, but for this one i’ll do a dating short blurb <3)

you’d nearly dropped all your books in your haste to get to rafe, who his friend said was in the locker room. when you got there, books still in your hand luckily, you settled upon the sight of rafe, red-eyed, tears streaming down his face and clutching his knee.

“oh rafe..baby, what’s happened?” you ask, concerned when you put aside your books, kneeling in front of him to wipe away his tears and ease his frustration. you lean forward, hugging him so he can let out his tears onto your shoulder.

“did my fuckin’ knee in,” he says hoarsely, clinging onto his voice as it threatens to break with the weight of his tears.

you curse under your breath, pulling away and fumbling around in your bag for your car keys, making sure you have them before turning to rafe’s friend. “can you help me get him to the car?”

“no- no baby, i’m gonna be okay, we don’t need to–” rafe begins to argue, reaching back out to you, but his friend’s already supporting his bad side, and you just shoot him a sharp look as if to say this was not up for argument. so he sighed, reluctantly accepting help.

the hospital wait was long and boring, but you filled it with incessant rambles that rafe was more than happy to listen to, head turned to the side to look at you in the waiting chair beside him.

after undergoing a minor knee surgery, rafe had to stay the night at the hospital, and despite his plea that you go home and get some proper rest, you stayed by his side. you got him water when he needed it, made sure he had better food than the shitty hospital food, and comforted him throughout.

you held his hand, even accepted his demand that you join him in the hospital bed because the chairs were too uncomfortable. you watched his favourite show together on your phone, even let him fall asleep on your chest.

he had to walk around school with crutches, but most of the time you’d rush to get him something so he didn’t strain himself unnecessarily. rafe sighed whenever you did this, he’d demand that he could do it alone, he had to do it alone. but you always called him out for being stupid, handing him the water bottle he wanted to walk across the class for.

“i’m just sayin’, i’m not useless baby, i can do this stuff, you don’t have to start takin’ care of me, i take care of you,” he murmurs while you’re laying in bed at night. you had just helped him get dressed, although he felt embarrassed the whole way through.

“rafe you’re injured. it’s okay that you can’t take care of me right now, i want to help you, you deserve it too,” you answer, resting your chin on his chest as you look up at him. “so stop being stupid.”

his face breaks into a smile, lifting his head from his pillow. “ya calling me stupid, sweetcheeks?”

“yeah, you are.”

“huh?” he drops his head back down onto the pillow. “alright i’m stupid, ya gonna teach me baby?”

“teach you what?” you giggle, letting his arms come around you as you move up, careful to avoid hitting his knee

“anything, make me clever,” he plays along, hand lifting to your cheek.

“okay then, let’s teach you how to accept the fact that you’re gonna be staying with me for the next few weeks.”

his brows furrow, then he shakes his head. “nah, i can’t stay with you i’d be a bur–”

“burden? nope, not having it. we’re here to teach you honey, we don’t have time for this. i’ll just move in here if you don’t stay with me.”

rafe looks like he might say something snarky, might brush you off, instead he just smiles, nodding his head. “alright then, considered me educated, gotta trust you for everythin’ huh?”

“hm yeah, that’s the idea.”

rafe pulls you down onto his chest again, hand threading through your hair and a content smile on his face, knowing you’ll be there for him through anything, even his perceived weakness.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777 @rafesapple @octoberbxbyy

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nanamisdollie · 2 days ago

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itoshi sae and his new assistant ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

smut, mdni. cw: boss!sae, sadism, corruption, degrading!!

it’d been two months since you started your job as an assistant. you hadn’t expected much of it besides the obvious; being bossed around, sent to a hundred different places in a day, bringing coffee before the sun even began to rise, but no. not with who your boss ended up being.

“bend over.”

the tone was cold, two hands even colder cupping your breasts over your bra but beneath your blouse. lips were close to your neck, a bruise already forming on your shoulder from where he had been nipping relentlessly.

itoshi sae was nothing like what you had imagined.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

the usually quiet office was filled with with the sounds of skin snapping and your own gasps. the hands that had once been on your chest were glued to your hips now, pulling you back to meet every one of his thrusts.

“quit clenching.” he spoke in a bored, matter of fact tone, as if he weren’t fucking into you at a pace that made your cervix ache “makes you seem like a virgin.”

“m’ not- not a virgin-“ a soft moan, high in tone, cuts you off “-have been w-with one- hmph- one guy.” you didn’t see a reason as to why you’d have to lie about it to him considering the stage you were at now. why would it matter to him?

theres a pause for a moment before his pace slows. he never quits his thrusts but a hand leaves you hip and goes to your hair, gathering it in a ponytail. he gives it a tug that makes you wince, eyes fluttering, but it gets your attention. you try to angle to where you can look at him, hands slipping on the desk.

“one guy?” sae cocks his head but of course you cant tell if he’s curious, annoyed, or just doesn’t care. its mechanical, casual, just as he was on the field. odd considering he was destroying your cunt.

“pathetic.”

pathetic? a ‘huh?’ falls past your lips. you thought guys liked when a girl had a low body count…

you’re not given much time to process as his hips fall back into their prior rhythm, relentless on your hole as if it were a toy. he gives your hair another tug though, making your back arch.

“guess i can teach you...least i can do considering youve been a decent employee.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

your body aches, your heads fuzzy, your cunts covered in your own cum and drool from when sae had spit in his hand to make sure you were lubed up enough to take him.

it’d been an hour of relentless fucking; riding him on the desk chair you usually replied to his emails on, pushed with your face into the desk you would have to work at the following day, ass stretched for the first time while he told you ‘you’re gonna have to do it someday, might as well be with me”.

now, your mouth was being violated by a cock so big it made your eyes tear and throat burn when you took it to the base. sae wasn’t helping, wasn’t praising you, he just watched you; bored.

you pull off his cock with a cough and a huff of air, sniffling. your hand continues to jerk him off, precum finally drooling out of his rosy slit.

“why’d you stop.”

its not a question, he phrases it like a statement. you blink up at him through glassy eyes and sticky lashes, the two of you finally holding proper eye contact for the first time during this office fuck fest.

“throat hurts~” its a whisper, throat raw from the moans you couldn’t hold back and letting his tip choke you repeatedly.

he cocks his head again like he did earlier snd instead of replying he grips your hair in a ponytail once more, forcing your lips back around him. you choke immediately, brows furrowing as your eyes stay on his. its uncomfortable, but why would he care?

sae begins to thrust into your mouth, barely audible huffs finally falling past his perfect lips. meanwhile you were struggling to breathe, he must’ve liked that…yeah not surprising. every time his cock hit the back of your throat you gagged, the excess spit making his cock move more smoothly though not less painfully.

“didnt tell you to stop.” he’s somehow still stern and overly composed while his hip movements give away just how close he is to finishing.

another hand meets the one already in your hair and he forces you all the way down, not caring that your nails are digging into his thighs now, your nose pressed uncomfortably against his pubic bone.

“shit- your bad at sucking cock-“

he yanks you off of him, keeping one hand in your hair while you can finally breathe again. you’re coughing, drooling everywhere, tears wet and streaking down your flushed cheeks.

“look at me.”

when you do everything’s blurry but its not hard to make out the scene; sae standing over you, jerking off with his free hand. when you lock eyes again, his finally flutter and he lets out a choked whine. sticky overly wet cum shoots from his twitching cock, landing right on your face; one streak his your eye, another on your lips, and a few in your hair.

you wince when you try to blink, the cum making your eyes sting. when he lets go of your hair, you fall to your hands, coughing again. sae doesn’t speak, doesn’t help you up, but you can hear him getting redressed.

when you finally have the composure to sit up your still shaking. you’re exhausted, body hurting in places you never had felt pain like this before. you try to rub his cum off your face but it just smears making your nose crinkle when some gets past your lips.

the door clicks and you look up; saes leaving. of course. you try to stand and fail, legs still like jelly. at least he had the curtsy to turn to you;

“be in at 7:30. youre fired if you come in a second later.”

this started as a request for corruption w sae but i accidentlly deleted the damn request and i took a lil spin on it <33 ty for reading!!

#<3nanamisdolliefic #bllk #bllk smut #sae #itoshi sae #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae smut #itoshi sae smut #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock smut

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billysgirllol · 1 day ago

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muscles tensing, quickly becoming more and more uncomfortable with his hands wandering over her, even if she thinks he’s just trying to hang onto her. THINKS— keyword: thinks. “i’m okay,” hopping up, she wonders if billy saw that as she plops back down and her fists ball up, anger starting to well in the pity of her belly and quickly rise up to her temples.

her jaw clenching, brows scrunching together in contemplative anger… the calm before the storm; attempting to anchor herself to this seat or go right up and chew out billy bonney. what did he do? THAT on purpose? slinging her around, trying to make her fall down, fall down onto pat more specifically? she doesn’t know what she said to even set him off about pat, what could she possibly said when there was nothing ABOUT pat she even said. “i didn’t hit myself. but i know someone who i MIGHT hit.” her fists tighten, bury into the seat even deeper as her eyes see the gross streaks of chocolate across her thighs before her temper switches. she might hit him too if he doesn’t learn to back off. lucy gray zaps up, storming up to billy in the driver seat, swaying back and forth but eventually stumbling forward and making it in his peripheral view, “what are you doin’?! stop drivin’ so damn stupid! and ACTIN’ so stupid!” she yells pissed off and raging like a tiny bird about to peck someone’s eyeballs out, jabbing her tiny finger in his direction— prodding deep into his sunburned shoulder without realizing it but she won’t have no regrets even when she does since he had no regrets slinging her everywhere and onto pat’s hard on, hanging on to the back of his seat with all the strength one hand of hers can muster.

"why yes, i sure did." until billy ruined it out of the blue. hand grasps his and lucy gray drops it as fast as she took it, too steamed about billy to care what pat's thinking. a glare tossed over in the group of toddlers way, the dark haired one the BIGGEST one of all. lucy gray plops down on one of the chairs, scooping her phone up out of her towel she left it in, slinging her wet life jacket off and burying her nose into her phone. thumb clicks her dimly lit screen on, leaning in closer when the contact name she thinks she's just imagining has been left in her notifications of texts she's missed. river. heart throat tightens and stomach swirls at the reminder of him, thumb clicking open the message and doe eyes begin to scan the words. 'hey north carolina, look what we got here' the words read and underneath is a picture of a baby horse attached. her heart does melt on sight and her lips do curl in a smile at the text that comes underneath the photo. 'me and maw named her gray, after you. hope you don't mind.' well that's sweet of them. she happily types that, that's appreciative and gushes how sweet and adorable the foal is. least this momentarily distracts her anger from billy.

#verse: modern.

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hameesstuff · 1 day ago

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"A Marriage Rewritten”

Pairing: Husband, Lawyer!Jaehyun x Wife, Artist!Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Preview: They were each other’s first everything — love, heartbreak, mistake. Jaehyun is now a ruthless corporate lawyer and her, a struggling but spirited artist. Years after their painful breakup, fate plays its cruelest card: their families arrange their marriage for business-political reasons. Just great.

__________________________________________

Part 1: Signed in Ice

The pen trembled in your hand.

"Don't make it dramatic," Jaehyun muttered across the table, his tone cool as a polished knife. "It's just ink."

You looked up slowly. He was seated like he always was—back straight, suit immaculate, jaw tight. Only his eyes betrayed anything. And even then, they were unreadable.

“You said the same thing when we signed the lease to our first apartment,” you said flatly.

Silence.

The lawyer in the corner shifted uncomfortably.

You signed anyway. Because what else could you do?

Your father's health was failing. Your art gallery was barely breathing. The offer had come dressed in silk and thorns — "a family merger," they called it. His family wanted the political ties. Yours wanted stability. And here you were, a broken love story tied up with gold and paper.

The moment your name hit the contract, Jaehyun pushed his chair back.

"Congrats, Mrs. Jung," he said without a smile.

You stared at him. “Still as charming as ever.”

He stopped at the door. “You knew what this was.”

“Yeah,” you muttered under your breath. “A mistake. Just like last time.”

But he’d already walked out.

Later That Week: The Penthouse

“Wow,” Taeyong muttered, looking around the pristine space like it was a museum. “Cold, sharp, and lifeless. Just like your husband.”

You laughed. “Don’t let him hear you. He might sue.”

He handed you a carton of takeout and flopped onto the modern black couch like he owned it. “So… how does it feel to be back in hell?”

You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest. “Familiar.”

You hadn’t seen Jaehyun since the signing. His assistant had dropped off the penthouse keys with a post-it that said “Don’t touch my wine.”

So you touched all of it. On principle.

Two Days Later: The First Fight

The door slammed just as you were dancing barefoot in the kitchen to an old indie song, wearing one of your paint-stained shirts.

“I live here too, remember?” Jaehyun’s voice cut through the music like a blade.

You didn’t even turn. “Thanks for the reminder. I was starting to feel safe.”

He appeared beside you, hair ruffled from work, tie loose. “And this?” He gestured to the chaos of your paints. “This isn’t a studio.”

You held up a brush and smiled sweetly. “Now it is.”

“God,” he muttered. “Why are you always so—”

“Alive?” you offered. “Free? Full of joy that makes your tight little jaw clench?”

His eyes darkened. “You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re boring.”

He stepped forward. “Say that again.”

“You’re boring, Jung Jaehyun,” you said, poking his chest. “You weren’t always. But now? You’re just a stiff in a suit who thinks feelings are weaknesses.”

His mouth was a breath from yours. "You’re one to talk about feelings. Who ran when things got hard?”

You shoved him lightly. “Don’t twist it. You walked out first.”

You didn’t realize how close you were until your chest brushed his.

His gaze dropped to your lips.

But he stepped back. Cold. Colder than the last time.

"Grow up,” he said. “You're not twenty anymore."

You didn't answer.

And the ache between your ribs reminded you that neither was he.

Part 2 - “Velvet Lies & Stolen Glances”

Charity Gala – Grand Hyatt, Seoul

The gala was for some high-profile legal foundation. Jaehyun’s turf. You were only there to play the role of a dutiful wife — the ornament beside Seoul’s most prized lawyer.

You’d worn black silk, not for him — for yourself. But the look in his eyes when you stepped out of the dressing room said otherwise.

He’d gone quiet. Too quiet.

“You clean up well,” you muttered, tugging your earring on as you passed him.

He didn’t answer — just stared.

But then came the car ride. Cold. Professional. His voice only used for directions and “You forgot your clutch.” The same man who used to kiss your shoulder at every red light now treated you like a contract clause.

Inside the Ballroom

You weren’t even halfway into your first flute of champagne before you felt a presence.

“Yo.”

You turned — and lit up. “Taeyong!”

He hugged you like the night hadn’t been awful. “You look like a painting tonight.”

You mock-curtsied. “I clean up when I want to show my ex-boyfriend-slash-current-husband that I’m still capable of turning heads.”

Jaehyun, standing not five feet away, tensed.

Taeyong grinned. “You still turning hearts, too?”

You leaned into him laughing — and Jaehyun’s hand appeared at the small of your back like a damn reflex.

“She’s married,” he said smoothly. “Remember?”

You turned your head slowly. “To you? Oh, right. I forget sometimes.”

His jaw flexed. “Clearly.”

Later: On the Balcony

You needed air.

The silk clung to your back like heat, and the music inside started to feel suffocating. You stepped outside into the cool night — and Jaehyun followed five seconds later.

“You like making me look like a fool?” he asked, not angrily — but low, sharp.

You scoffed. “If the title fits.”

“He touches you like you’re his.”

You turned to him. “And you act like I’m yours.”

A beat.

Jaehyun stepped forward, jaw taut, eyes unreadable. “Aren’t you?”

You blinked.

“You’re not dating him.”

“No,” you admitted.

“You’re wearing my ring.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

His voice dipped. “Then why do I still want to kiss you every time you laugh at someone else?”

You stared at him.

Silence stretched.

And then you turned away, heart slamming, voice low. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

He didn’t stop you from walking back in.

But he didn’t look at anyone else for the rest of the night.

Part 3 - “Cracks in the Ice”

Back at the Penthouse – After the Gala

The car ride home was silent again.

Only this time, the silence felt different.

He kept glancing at you. Like he wanted to say something. Like if he opened his mouth, everything he’d buried for years would spill out.

But he didn’t.

So when you got home, you went straight to your makeshift studio—Jaehyun’s sterile guest room, now littered with canvases and paint jars.

You kicked off your heels and dropped onto the floor, dress pooled around you, dragging your fingers through a half-finished piece.

Not five minutes passed before he stood at the door, hands in his pockets, tie loosened.

“You were flirting with him.”

You didn’t even look up. “And you were pretending to care in front of donors.”

“I wasn’t pretending.”

Silence.

Then—his voice, sharper this time. “What does he give you that I don’t?”

Your head snapped up. “Kindness. Consistency. Someone who doesn’t treat me like a transaction.”

Jaehyun's jaw locked, but his eyes… cracked.

“He was never there when you fell apart. I was.”

“You also left me in pieces.”

That shut him up.

Next Day: Solo Gallery Appearance

It was supposed to be low-key. A community event for local artists — nothing glamorous, nothing massive. But the article dropped while you were still standing by your own canvas.

“Wife of Elite Corporate Lawyer Peddles Paintings at Local Crafts Fair?”

You froze. Mouth dry.

And then you saw the rest.

Anonymous quotes:

“She only got the spot because she’s married to Jung Jaehyun.”

“She’s talentless — the marriage is her real gallery.”

“Desperate for relevance.”

The world tilted.

Your hands shook. You stepped outside, back pressed to a wall as the chill hit your bare arms.

That Night – Back Home

You were curled on the couch, staring at nothing. Still in your gallery dress. Your phone on silent.

Jaehyun walked in and stood there for a long time.

Finally: “I handled it.”

You nodded numbly. “Good.”

“I mean it,” he said. “I had them retract everything. I bought out the blog. They’ll be issuing a formal apology tomorrow. And they’ll donate to your gallery.”

You stared at him. “Why?”

He knelt in front of you slowly. “Because I let you go once,” he whispered, “and I’ve regretted it every goddamn day.”

Your breath caught.

“And because…” his voice cracked, “you’re still the only person whose opinion has the power to ruin me.”

The air between you tightened. Dense. Fragile.

You leaned forward without thinking, forehead brushing his.

“Jaehyun—”

“I’m still in love with you.”

His hands curled around your waist. Yours knotted into his shirt.

And then—

You kissed him.

Hard. Hungry. But not angry.

It was years of silence being undone.

Part 4 - “The Wall That Broke”

The Morning After

You woke tangled in a blanket on the living room couch, your head resting on Jaehyun’s lap.

His fingers were in your hair.

Not moving. Not stroking. Just… there. Holding.

You blinked up at him. “Didn’t know lawyers came with built-in pillows.”

He didn’t smile. “Didn’t know artists kissed like they never stopped loving you.”

Your throat tightened.

Neither of you moved.

Then, softly: “Do we talk about last night?” you asked.

He looked away. “Do you want to?”

You paused. “Eventually.”

He nodded once. “Then eventually.”

But when you got up, he helped you straighten your wrinkled shirt.

His knuckles lingered on your collarbone.

That Week: Your First Real Outing Together

A city charity fundraiser. Crowds. Cameras. Handshakes.

He kept his hand at the small of your back all night.

You smiled when the press called you “picture-perfect.”

You didn’t know he’d canceled a major case to be there.

That Night – The Bedroom Door Left Open

You passed his room on the way to your studio.

His door was open.

He sat there in a white tee, head in his hands.

When he noticed you, he didn't speak — just patted the bed beside him.

You sat.

Neither of you said a word.

He laid back, arm brushing yours. You followed.

No kisses.

No lies.

Just silence and breathing, and his fingers grazing yours under the sheets like they used to.

Final Part - “The Letters He Never Burned”

The house was quiet when you returned from the hospital. Your father’s operation had gone well — a miracle, the doctor had said. The relief should’ve settled your bones, but it hadn’t. Not until the nurse handed you the paperwork.

Paid in full.

Signed: Jung Jaehyun.

You stood in the doorway of the penthouse, fingers trembling, the receipt still in your coat pocket.

He was on the couch, shirt sleeves rolled, legal documents beside him. He looked up when he heard the door—then immediately stood, brow creasing.

“You’re back late.”

You didn’t answer.

“Is your dad—”

“He’s fine,” you said softly. “Because of you.”

He went still.

You walked toward him slowly, heart loud in your ears. “You told me your family wouldn’t help.”

“They didn’t,” he said. Quiet. Careful.

“But you did.”

He swallowed. “You hate charity.”

You stepped closer. “You think this is about pride?”

“No,” he said after a beat. “It’s about how I failed you once. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to buy forgiveness.”

Your throat clenched.

Then you dropped the second bomb. “I went into the study.”

He froze.

“You should really lock your drawers,” you whispered.

He didn’t ask which ones. He knew.

“All the letters, Jaehyun.... Every single one. From college. From after the breakup.” You paused. “Even the one where I told you I hated you.”

His voice cracked, “Never believed that one.”

Silence. Heavy. Soft.

You stepped right into his space. “Why didn’t you let me go?”

He exhaled, hand brushing your waist with the ghost of a touch. “Because letting you go never worked. I tried.”

You blinked back tears. “And marrying me?”

“The only way I could keep you close,” he admitted, voice low. “Even if it meant you’d hate me again.”

Your breath hitched. “You think I still do?”

He looked at you like you were sunlight after a long winter. “I think I don’t deserve you. Even If I never stopped loving you.”

And finally—finally—you kissed him.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed.

It was reverent.

Years of pain melting into the space between your mouths.

He kissed your forehead. Your cheek. The tip of your nose.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was hoarse. “I love you.”

His kisses were slow. Thoughtful. Like he was mapping the years you’d been apart with every touch of his lips. He didn’t pull you into bed like he used to — like a man starved.

No.

He laid you down like someone he'd loved in a hundred lifetimes. Reverently. Carefully. His hands explored your skin like an old story he finally had permission to reread.

Your breaths tangled. His forehead pressed to yours.

When he entered you, there was no sharp gasp. No race. Just a sigh — one that left both your mouths at once, as if your bodies remembered what your pride had buried.

His hand was laced with yours above your head. His voice was in your ear, cracked and breathless.

“I still see you every time I close my eyes,” he whispered. “Even when I didn’t want to.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I never stopped writing letters,” you whispered. “I just stopped sending them.”

He slowed.

Held your face.

And moved inside you like he was writing one back — with his hands, his mouth, his heart.

No rush.

No noise.

Only softness. Only “I love you” in every unspoken place between your skin.

Epilogue – “Framed in Color”

Five years later – Seoul Contemporary Museum of Expression

The museum bustled softly, high ceilings glowing with morning light.

In the far wing — the one newly dedicated to living Korean artists — a six-year-old girl in a yellow sundress stood in front of a giant abstract mural, tilting her head.

Jaehyun crouched beside her.

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

His daughter scrunched her nose. “It looks like... Mama’s dreams.”

He smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

The plaque at the base read:

“To the woman who paints without apology, and the man who finally learned how to see her.”

— Y/N Jung

Your name.

Framed in gold.

You walked toward them with two iced coffees and a juice box, smiling as your daughter tugged her dad’s sleeve.

“She’s gonna be famous,” the girl whispered.

Jaehyun looked up at you, his heart never more full.

“She already is.”

And as your daughter ran off down the gallery, her laughter echoing, Jaehyun reached for your hand.

Not like he was holding on.

But like he’d never let go again.

The End.

Feedback is welcome!

___________________________________________

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lost-in-the-land-of-stories · 2 days ago

Text

So You're New To Takarazuka (2025 Edition)

This is a slightly revised and updated version of my 2022 post, because with Castlevania it seems we might be seeing a lot of new takarazuka fans, which I remember as being kind of overwhelming.

This post will share a lot with my previous one, except that it is up to date ^_^ So first of all: Hi! Welcome! Hope you enjoy the musicals and like the glitter!

Second of all, I know this fandom can be very different, a little bit (sometimes a lot) confusing, and definitely overwhelming, so I thought it might be helpful to make a bit of an introduction post, for if you’ve mostly seen memes or clips. So with that, here we are!

So You’re New to Takarazuka, what do you need to know?

(images: posters for Castlevania and Rose of Versailles)

Takarazuka in a Nutshell Takarazuka is a musical theatre company in Japan which only has female performers. It’s kind of like a reverse kabuki that way. It’s located in the city of Takarazuka (hence the name) and is over 100 years old! Which is awesome!

Takarazuka’s actresses are generally known as Takarasiennes (sienne or jenne for short), and are divided into women who play men, and women who play women. This division is made when they first enter the company based on the performers preference as well as their height (there is a minimum height for male-players). Many siennes come from ballet or theatre backgrounds and they audition for the company quite young, and can stay there for a long time.

The siennes who play guys are called otokoyaku (male role players) and ones who play women are known as musumeyaku (daughter role players, yes we know it sounds uncomfortable) and sometimes within the fandom and by other siennes onnayaku (female role players).

The company is divided into 5 troupes - hanagumi (flower troupe), tsukigumi (moon troupe), yukigumi (snow troupe), hoshigumi (star troupe) and soragumi (cosmos troupe) that perform to a schedule you can see on this page on the company’s website. They each have a speciality and character, and generally consist of anywhere between 60-80 members. There is also senka (or senior members), which is a group of some 20 older siennes who no longer perform in a troupe or in every show, but are specialists that are sent along to the other troupes as needed. You can find profiles for all of the current (and many, many past performers) on the fan-made website takawiki.

The Topstar System Each of the five troupes have a Top Star and a Top Musumeyaku, who perform the lead roles in most of the plays their troupe puts on. This couple is the ‘main’ couple of that troupe, and they tend to stay anywhere between 1-5 years depending on a variety of factors, before they retire and are replaced by the people “next in line” – this is a very hierarchical system in which performers climb up the ranks starting from their time in the Takarazuka Music School. Siennes can climb up the ranks by being given important roles, given leads in smaller theatres, or otherwise gaining prominence and popularity through stuff like fan engagement, merch sales, etc. This means also that casting is not generally done by audition and that there is a very limited pool of performers available for each play; you stay in your troupe (unless you're transferred) and you perform with them. Roles are assigned primarily by rank, as well, so you will not soon see a very new performer have a bigger role than someone who has been there for a long time (this is oversimplified, but that what it's an intro for).

Last and current top combis (topstar and topmusumeyaku) & troupe vibes:

Hanagumi Current Topcombi: Towaki Sea and Hoshizora Misaki Previous: Yuzuka Rei and Hoshikaze Madoka

Hanagumi is the oldest troupe of the company (established in 1921), and often considered it’s most traditional because of that. They are specifically known for the coolness of their otokoyaku, and their general aesthetic. Under Yuzuka Rei a lot of focus was placed on dance, and now with Towaki Sea we see a focus on darker stories.

(top: Towaki Sea's 'Castlevania', bottom: Yuzuka Rei's 'Top Hat')

Tsukigumi Current Topcombi: Houzuki An and Amashi Juri Previous: Tsukishiro Kanato and Umino Mitsuki Tsukigumi is just about almost as old as Hana (also 1921), and known for their comedic and western musicals, as well as their strong vocals. They were also the first troupe to perform ‘The Rose of Versailles’, which is one of Takarazuka’s flagship shows. Tsukigumi has multiple topmusumeyaku that started out as otokoyaku and switched later in their career (including current topmusume Amashi Juri, and previous topmusume Manaki Reika)

(Top: Houzuki An's 'Golden Liberty', bottom: Tsukishiro Kanato's 'Great Gatsby') Yukigumi Current topcombi: Asami Jun and Yumeshiro Aya Previous: Ayakaze Sakina and Yumeshiro Aya/Asazuki Kiwa*

Yukigumi is the troupe that focusses most on acting, and that is known for their performances of more traditional Japanese shows (nihonmono). In the modern era, they are also most often the troupe that does Manga adaptions (such as Lupin III, City Hunter and recently Berubara). *Ayakaze had two different topmusumeyaku partners, each for 3 shows, and Yumeshiro Aya stayed on with the next topstar after Ayakaze retired.

(Top: Asami Jun's 'Robin the Hero', bottom: Ayakaze Sakina's 'Bonnie and Clyde') Hoshigumi Future: Akatsuki Chisei and Uta Chizuru Current Topstar: Rei Makoto Previous Topmusumeyaku: Maisora Hitomi** Hoshigumi is known for their strong drama and stars with a lot of personality, as well as their focus on aesthetic and costuming. They do a lot of dramatic big-budget musicals and are currently very much the French Musical troupe. **Hoshigumi is currently in the middle of Rei Makoto's retirement (she just finished her final run in the Takarazuka Grand Theatre and will still perform in Tokyo), but her topmusumeyaku Maisora Hitomi left before her. The next topcombi has been announced, but they have not yet performed a show togeter, and because there is currently no Topmusumeyaku, Akatsuki Chisei is playing a female role in Rei Makoto's final show.

(Top: Rei Makoto and Akatsuki Chisei in 'Ashura', bottom: Rei Makoto and Maisora Hitomi) Soragumi Current topcombi: Sakuragi Minato and Haruno Sakura Previous: Serika Toa and Haruno Sakura***

Soragumi, the youngest troupe by far, is also the most experimental. They have the tallest siennes and also often the most non-traditional shows. Their musumeyaku are often considered slightly less traditionally feminine.

*** Haruno Sakura is staying on as topmusumeyaku. They have only just switched topcombi, so Sakuragi Minato's first show has not yet started.

(top and bottom: pictures from Serika Toa's 'Razzle Dazzle/Takarazuka Love Songs')

The Sumire Code Something which you will run into fairly quickly when you get into the Takarazuka Fandom is the Sumire Code, which is an unwritten set of rules or guidelines for both siennes and fans regarding how to interact with one another. I have a longer explainer of this here.

The basic gist of it really is about respect, specifically for the performers, and also regarding their safety. There are a lot of differing opinions on certain aspects the Sumire code that I won’t get into now, but in general the foreign Takarazuka fandom does try to keep it in mind with regards to their online behaviour. One of what I personally think is one of the most positive aspects of the Sumire code (regardless of any of my other opinions) is the fact that it is intended to protect the privacy of the siennes, and that we as fans are not supposed to bother them or dive into their real lives. Those are their own, and we have no rights to them.

One important aspect of the Sumire Code that is relevant to online fandom, is that the Hankyu Company is extremely diligent in controlling and protecting their copyright. The blurays are very expensive to buy and if material is posted in public places online, fans can get into a lot of trouble if stuff gets shared around. This can include takedowns on video platforms and other ways in which fans are locked out of being able to engage with the company. This doesn’t only go for video material, but also for the various types of print items the company produces. This results in all of us being careful with what we share, where we share it, and with whom. I know that to some, that can feel a little gatekeepy, but it’s important to understand that it’s really not that we want to keep new fans out, on the contrary, a lot of people here on tumblr and other platforms are doing their best to reach out, it’s just that the way this works limits the easily publically available material for new fans.

That’s all Real Fun Info, but I Want to Watch Some Shows! Right, so you’re really here to watch some shows, fair enough! Where do you go? I know this in particular can be quite confusing, and sometimes a little difficult.

DVD/BLURAY First of all, you can buy a lot of the discs (dvds or blurays) of musicals that you like, which is imo kind of amazing since we’ve all been collectivel begging broadway/west end to do that for YEARS, so that’s cool. Of course, you don’t just wanna drop a ton of money - but in order to get an idea of whether or not you might like them, you can go to the Takarazuka YouTube channel (see link below) and watch their trailers, info videos, and clips. However, of course you might not have the money to spend on an expensive Bluray or DVD, not everyone has that kind of disposable income, so what else can you do? If you want more detailed info on where to purchase blurays or dvds, there is another explainer for that on @eralkfang's page right here.

SKYSTAGE Takarazuka also has its own TV channel called ‘SkyStage’. Here, they broadcast shows from their vast library of content, and produce a number of behind the scenes features which can be very fun, but unless you live in Japan this is pretty hard to access. Luckily there is, nowadays, a pretty good solution for this! If you ARE however in Japan, I can sincerely reccomend it.

TKZ ON DEMAND You can use Takarazuka On Demand, an online service through which you can rent shows quite cheaply and easily. You do need a credit card and probably a VPN, which I know can sound a little scary, but it doesn’t have to be. The process is relatively simple, and if this is something you want to set up there’s tons of people around that are happy to help you (but don’t ask me, I am technologically challenged and a friend had to do it for me). Takarazuka On Demand also has a good deal of SkyStage stuff, which means you can find behind the scenes material here too!

FAN STREAMS Finally, if you don’t want to do any of these things, there are a number of us here on Tumblr who are happy to answer your questions, or if you want to see something that you don’t have access to - stream our shows for you. This is generally done in private locked stream rooms, for our own safety, as the company is specifically very strict on content sharing and we would rather not get in trouble. However, if you dm someone politely they will almost certainly be happy to help and to try and arrange a stream in your timezone if at all possible. I know dming strangers can be scary, but I promise we don’t bite.

However, when you do talk to us, please do so respectfully, and please respect the space you are in. As much as we would love to shower you in glitter, we are not slot machines that can give you content, and we are careful because the company has nuked accounts in the past.

Peoples files and their translations have also been stolen in the past, and when things get spread across the internet nilly willy that can have seirous reprecussions for us.

TL;DR Welcome! Here’s a whole bunch of Takarazuka resources that I bundled so you can find them in one place, please have fun. Please do know that everyone is welcome here! We want people to come hang out, join us, watch things. That’s why we like to stream, we just ask that you treat us with kindness.

Takarazuka is a really fun hobby to have, even if it seems a little complicated. You’ll get the hang of it, and there’s lots of options to watch things in various ways!

All that to say: Welcome, and enjoy the glitter

Resources https://www.takawiki.com/tiki-index.php Takawiki is an absolutely fantastic resource where you can find information on shows, performers, terms, and a variety of translations!

https://www.takawiki.com/tiki-index.php?page=Glossary+of+Terms Takawiki’s glossary of terms where you can look up a lot of really helpful info to help you wade through all the random Japanese people toss into their posts here.

https://www.takawiki.com/tiki-index.php?page=Sumire+Code The summary post for the Sumire code.

https://www.youtube.com/user/TRCofficialchannel Takarazuka’s official youtube channel, send them some love!

https://kageki.hankyu.co.jp/ Takarazuka’s official website! Here they post news, you can buy tickets if you’re in Japan, ad find out a variety of other pieces of information. They have an English version of the webpage, but the information is a little more limited on there.

https://kageki.hankyu.co.jp/schedule/index.html The yearly performance schedule.

https://www.tca-pictures.net/ This is the Takarazuka merch store online, you can buy merch for shows, programs, magazines, photos and other stuff here.

https://www.tca-pictures.net/skystage/ This is the website of Skystage, you can look around here a bit to kind of see how it works.

https://www.tca-pictures.net/vod/ This link will send you to Takarazuka On Demand, where if you make an account you can legally watch shows for as much as 5 dollars if you want to. https://www.tumblr.com/eralkfang/785974587264548864/how-to-buy-takarazuka-castlevania-on-bddvd And again Eralks how to buy a show explainer! Other Fun Stuff Here is again the link to my Sumire Code Explainer. History Post about Takarazuka's past. Propeganda about my favourite performers. Show Reccomendations for beginners.

#takarazuka #yukigumi #hoshigumi #hanagumi #tsukigumi #soragumi #castlevania

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rainrot4me · 2 days ago

Note

What would you think the creeps favourite song from Ethel Cain is...

I love Ethel Cain & Hayden more than I can physically name so sorry I went a little overboard with this,,,

── .✦

✦ . jeff the killer

“Thoroughfare”

Jeff has that chaotic, feral energy, but beneath all that bloodlust is a deeply broken person looking for something he can’t name. When I listen to Thoroughfare, it gives me the uneasy feeling of watching a car crash and not being able to do anything about it or help anyone involved. You kind of just have to stand back while they suffer, and that’s what I feel like Jeff’s backstory is like from the reader’s perspective. You just watch this boy slowly rip his life apart without even realizing it.

“And every small-town diner, saw our faces at least once or twice / But in these motel rooms, I started to see you differently, oh.”

He definitely listens to this on loop when he’s alone, sprawled out somewhere half-covered in blood, pretending he doesn’t feel anything while his brain replays memories like film burns.

✦ . ticci toby

“Family Tree”

This man is made of generational trauma and repressed fury, so this song might as well be his entire backstory in 5 minutes. He’s a sad little boy in a grown man’s body, and everyone around him has to face the repercussions of that. There’s nothing else to compare this with than with his family—his horrible dad, the grief of his sister, and the loss of his family and home. He’s always waiting and begging to be taken back to a place that doesn’t exist anymore, but everything that has happened to him has been from his own creation.

“I’m just a child, but I’m not above violence / My mama raised me better than that.”

It opens up something primal in him. It feels like his feelings have a soundtrack now. He won’t say it, but it makes him cry when no one’s watching.

✦ . eyeless jack

“A House in Nebraska”

Jack’s the most introspective of them. The yearning, the haunting sadness, the feeling of being almost loved? It hits. The feeling of wanting to go back to something, to reverse all the horrible choices you’ve made and start from the beginning, but knowing you’ll never be able to no matter how much you beg. It’s just the story of him and the events that happened in college retold again, so he listens because he knows the feeling.

“And it hurts to miss you, but it’s worse to know / That I’m the reason you won’t come home.”

There’s something nostalgic about it that he can’t quite name. You’ll find him sitting in the dark with this on, lost in thought, mask resting beside him.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

“Ptolemaea”

Tell me you’re the big brother of the group without telling me, y’know? Oh yeah. Screaming, chaos, pain, pure dread and unidentifiable noises. It’s just a verbalization of all the torment and mental dread he went through to become a proxy, all the emotions and internal dialogue that comes with it. Something about the religious undertones strike him in the weirdest, most uncomfortable spots.

“Even the iron still fears the rot / Hiding from something I cannot stop / Walking on shadows, I can’t lead him back, uh.”

He listens to it on low volume while driving to town for supplies. No, he won’t talk about it. Yes, it means everything.

✦ . hoody (brian thomas)

“Western Nights”

It’s quiet, brooding, and secretly devastating just like him. He doesn’t like anything that evoke too many emotions, but something that will speak to him in the way he understands, that’s all he needs. His head is loud, he doesn’t need anything louder to clog it all up.

“Breaking in to ATMs / Sleeping naked when it gets too hot.”

He’ll never tell you how many memories this song drags out of him, but he’ll slip one earbud into your ear and let you listen with him if he likes you enough.

✦ . ben drowned

“A House in Nebraska” (but the distorted slowed-down version)

Yes, it’s a repeat, but Ben puts this through so many audio filters it sounds like a corrupted save file mourning its lost player.

“Labored breathes and bed sores, sing it to me all day long / When the aching sound of silence, used to be our favorite song.”

He lays in the digital void with this echoing around him, glitching slightly. Melancholy and memory get tangled up in his code, but it’s comforting in a way, makes him feel human.

✦ . clockwork

“Gibson Girl”

Sensual, darkly feminine, dangerous? That’s her. But besides aesthetics, it’s also a reminder of who she was before she put that clock face in her eye. It reminds her of her power she holds, what it cost to get to this point, and how she promises to never let herself be weak again. Everything she has she’s taken for herself, this song plays as a mental check.

“And if you want it good, downright iconic / Then I would show you something that you wish you had.”

This is her pre-kill playlist. She unwinds to it. Lives for the control, the power, the dizzy sweetness of it all.

✦ . laughing jack

“Sun Bleached Flies”

This one’s unexpected, but Jack’s chaos hides a lot of grief. The song’s eerie, decaying beauty speaks to the quiet sadness in him he buries under teeth and tricks. Jack is a toy, a being that was never really meant to have a purpose, but was inevitably given one. There comes a lot of useless emotions and complex knowledge along with having your only interaction with others through dreams or imagination.

“God loves you, but not enough to save you / So, babygirl, good luck taking care of yourself.”

He laughs when it plays, but his eyes don’t match the sound.

✦ . slenderman

“Hard Times”

Ancient. Cruel. Detached. But something about this track moves through him like a ghost of something he’s lost or buried long ago. Slender’s emotions are about as easy to pick apart as the answer to where he came from, nonexistent. He’s folklore, myth turned reality, legend given legs—there comes a lot of misplaced directions and misguided emotion. He knows how to stalk, he knows how to lure, he knows how to kill—that’s it.

“Bleeding wherever you want / Too tired to move, too tired to leave.”

He doesn’t listen to music often. But when he does? It’s this. Repeatedly.

꩜ .ᐟ

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athenagc94 · 2 days ago

Text

Show Me How You Like It

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader — 18+ MDNI

TW: Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Finger Sucking, Light Dom/Sub, Sub Jason Todd, First Time, Hand Jobs, Praise Kink, Porn with Feelings Word Count: 2,254

Jason was less certain about this part.

While you weren’t his first partner, sex never enticed him the way it enticed others. Don’t get him wrong. He wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of physical intimacy, but it took time for him to warm up to the idea. The moment had to feel right. With the right person. Jason didn’t do casual... well, anything. It had to mean something. You understood that and never pushed him to do anything that made him uncomfortable.

He was finally ready to take that next step with you.

It wasn’t intuitive. That daunted him. He’d never pretended to be the type of guy who slept around. You would have seen through the flimsy charade in an instant, but he couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious by his lack of experience.

Jason knelt on the ground in front of you, calloused hands sliding up your bare thighs with intent. Clad only in your bra and panties, the sight of you sprawled out on the bed before him was familiar. You two had made it this far in the past. Stripped down to your underwear, muscles taut with anticipation as you traded gentle kisses and soft caresses.

You wanted more with him. He sensed it every time your fingers teased the band of his underwear or nipped a little too hard at his lower lip. Even if you refused to admit it out loud. He knew. Tonight, he planned to reward you for your unending patience.

“Is this alright, love?” he asked as he inched closer to your hips.

“You know I love it when you touch me,” you purred as you trailed your fingers through his hair. Your nails dragged across his scalp, a pleasant sensation trickling down his spine like rainwater that pooled in his lower belly.

He buried your face in your lap and groaned. “I’m ready.”

Your fingers stilled in his hair. “Are you sure?”

“Never been surer of anything in my life. I want to make you feel good.”

You considered him, the slow trail of your fingers resuming once more. He suppressed a violent shudder that curled his toes. “As usual, I’ll go at your pace.”

“No.”

Again, you stopped. “No?”

“I—”

Jason swallowed thickly before peering up at you once more. You stared back, a soft curiosity furrowing your brow as you waited for him to find the right words. Patient, as always. His thumbs dipped at your hips, slipping beneath the band of your underwear. You had enough self-restraint to maintain eye contact despite the hitch in your breath.

“I’m very new to this aspect of a relationship, but I want to do this for you,” he started slowly, “If you’re willing to show me, that is.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. “Show you?”

“Show me how you like it,” he clarified timidly, “A demonstration, maybe?”

He might have missed the way your thighs squeezed together if he wasn’t holding onto them like they were his only lifeline. Panic tightened his chest. Asking you to pleasure yourself in front of him might have been a step too far. He hadn’t meant to make things weird.

He just wanted to—

“Anything for you, babe.” You settled back on your elbows and spread your legs for him, revealing the damp spot on your panties. His throat dried as he stared at it, then quickly looked away, almost losing his nerve. You curled your finger under his chin and lifted his gaze to meet yours. Sensing his hesitation, you asked, “Are you sure?”

“Show me,” he breathed, “Please.”

You traced his lower lip with the pad of your thumb. “Open.”

Jason obliged.

Two fingers flattened his tongue until he gagged. Tears gathered in his eyes as he exhaled sharply, willing his throat to relax as your head lolled to one side. Your smile broadened. “You’re such a good listener.”

Oh.

That was…

Oh.

He liked that more than he thought he would. For a man desperate to please, hearing your praise stirred something in his chest.

...And his pants.

He sat a little straighter, eagerly awaiting your next directive. For you, he was very good at following directions. You twisted your fingers gently and continued, “Get these nice and wet for me. I want them to be dripping as much as I am.”

Jason choked out a garbled moan. His tongue swirled around your fingers, shameless with how eager he took them. All the while, he never looked away from you. Some small part of him hoped you would praise him again.

Your lids turned heavy as drool dripped from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. Finally, you withdrew your fingers, the digits glistening in the dim light.

“Very good.”

His teeth sank into his lower lip to muffle his whimper. Shit, the way your voice grated on your throat really did something for him. It was never too late to learn something new about himself, he supposed.

You tugged your underwear aside to reveal your glistening folds. You allowed him a second or two to admire the sight before your fingers disappeared inside. Jason clenched his fists, unsure where to look. The slow pump of your fingers, the way your hips twitched with the motion, or how your toes curled in the sheets.

In the end, he focused on your face and the noises you made. Your brow pinched as you worked yourself open. Every soft gasp and sigh that fell from your lips left him tingly and hot. “What do you think about?”

“You.” Automatic, firm. You left little room for self-doubt.

He pressed his cheek to your inner knee, hiding his giddy smile in your skin. “I love you.”

You didn’t respond, too lost in the sensations of pleasure to even hear the proof of his devotion. He didn’t mind. The sight of you coming undone was enough to keep him sated. For a time. The longer the show went on, the more impatient he became. It wasn’t fair, making you do all the work when he had two perfectly good hands.

“Can I?” The question spilled from his lips before he could stop it.

You bit off your moan and turned a lust-filled gaze toward him. He swore he stopped breathing. The sight of you flushed and panting was more enticing than he realized. You removed your fingers and wiped them on the sheets. He frowned, almost disappointed that you hadn’t offered him a taste.

“Come here,” you said with a curl of your finger. He crept closer, breathing shallow as you took one of his hands. Your lips grazed the bridge of his knuckles, the palm of his hand, then a kiss on each of his fingers. When you reached his pointer finger, you took it in your mouth, coating it with your spit.

His hips bucked the air, finding no relief, but that thought fled as soon as the second his finger brushed the back of your throat. You held his gaze, unfazed. When you released his fingers with a wet pop, he slanted his lips over yours. A sigh tumbled from your mouth as you kissed him back.

His slick finger drifted between your legs, probing and curious as he traced your folds. They fluttered faintly around him as he pushed inside. His fingers were larger than yours, and from the sharp cry that wrenched from your throat, you felt the difference.

“Y-Yes, good. So good,” you panted against his lips, “Use your thumb on my clit.”

He brushed his thumb over the small bud as he curled his finger inside you, earning another mewl of approval. Between the heated kisses and the thrust of his fingers, you unraveled with a heady moan that made his head spin. Your orgasm was quick. He would have missed it, if not for the way your legs tightened around him. Heavy breaths fanned across his face, your thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm.

Jason withdrew his fingers to study the slick that covered them. He gave them a tentative lick, then another, more overt, suck when he discovered he didn’t mind the taste. God, he could get used to the taste of you.

“Was that good?” he asked between licks.

You buried your face in your hands. “Yes, dumbass.”

Jason snorted. “What happened to babe?”

“That’s reserved for when you don’t ask stupid questions.” You uncovered your face to grab his instead. “I love you. That was wonderful. Do you want to keep going?”

“I said I was ready. That meant everything.”

You kissed the tip of his nose. A soft feeling welled in his chest that told him he’d made the right choice. You made it easy for him to be vulnerable. He knew that to be the case, but this moment confirmed it all over again. “We have the rest of our lives for everything. What do you want tonight?”

“You,” he said firmly, “All of you.”

“You already have me.” Your hand trailed down his chest, over the soft layer of fat that cushioned the hard planes of his stomach. He used to feel self-conscious about his softer belly, but the look you gave him any time he tugged off his shirt banished any doubts he had. You stopped just shy of the band of his underwear.

His cock strained against the fabric, already half-hard. You gave him a thoughtful look, seeking his permission. He nodded.

Your hand slipped beneath the elastic band to stroke him. He’d touched himself before, but your firm grip left stars bursting at the edge of his vision. Embarrassingly, he almost came then and there. Jason buried his face in your neck to muffle his groan as he thrust into your hand, seeking more despite how dangerously close he was.

“Someone’s eager.”

“Shut up.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder, then another, more overt one to the hollow of your throat. You craned your neck to give him better access. It was the perfect distraction as you worked him closer to the edge. He felt it—a white-hot coil within his lower belly that threatened to snap. His eyes fluttered shut.

So close, just a few more—

You stopped.

Jason cried out in protest, nearly collapsing.

“Soon,” you cooed as you removed your hand, “You said you wanted everything. If you come now, our fun’ll be over.”

Damn your logic.

He willed himself to stand, knees shaking as he wandered over to your nightstand. Pulling open the drawer, he grabbed a condom. You were prepared in case he ever changed his mind, and now he was glad you were. After rolling it on, he turned back to face you. You’d already discarded your bra and panties and laid sprawled on the bed. His mouth hung open, struck dumb by the sight of you.

“How do you want me?” you asked.

“On my lap.”

You smirked. “Shocking.”

Jason loved to grab your ass. Sue him. He didn’t deign to respond as you rolled aside to let him sit. Once he’d settled on the end of the bed, you crawled onto his lap. Heat radiated from your center, hovering just over his flushed tip. You held his gaze once more and asked in earnest, “Are you sure about this?”

If he said no, you would stop—no judgment, no questions. While your concern for his comfort flattered him, Jason knew what he wanted. He placed his hands on your hips and eased you gently onto his cock. You inhaled sharply as you stretched around him, nearly wringing that orgasm from him once more. He stopped, for both your sake and his, and waited for the fire in his veins to subside.

In the silence, the opening lines of The Odyssey painted the backs of his eyelids in his desperation to prolong this moment.

Jason pressed his forehead to yours. “Ready?”

You breathed out a laugh. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

You eased down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside you. He kissed you, slow and lingering, as you lifted your hips, then sank back down. He hissed against your lips, that coil in his belly tightening with the strain of his muscles. You found a rhythm, something steady, something agonizing. His fingers curled around the swell of your ass as he tried to quicken your pace, but you maintained the same steady rhythm that left him whimpering.

“Breathe,” you mumbled against your lips.

He breathed.

“Good. You feel so good. I’m—” You choked on a moan, and he echoed it. “I’m gonna—”

Your walls tightened with your second orgasm. You lost all sense of rhythm as you rode out the waves of your pleasure, finally giving him the speed he so desperately craved. The coil snapped and his release surprised him, painting his vision white as he emptied inside her. Your name tumbled from his lips like a prayer.

He fell back on the bed, dragging you with him. Sweat coated your skin, glistening like stardust.

“That was—” Jason ran his fingers through his damp curls, willing his heart to stop racing. “That was wow.”

You nuzzled his bare chest. “Your eloquence astounds me.”

He had no witty remark for that. His mind had shattered and he’d yet to muster the strength to piece it back together. You felt so warm, your skin pressed flush to his. He kissed the top of your head.

It was you.

Always you.

Only you.

------------------------

A/N: Surprise.

Usually, I have to write a plot to justify writing smut, but one could argue I wrote 100K worth of plot in Dear Daddy Long Legs to give y'all this. If it wasn't clear in DDLL, Jason Todd is absolutely the sub in this relationship.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dear daddy long legs fic #fanfic #red hood #red hood x reader #18+ mdni

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odairmultiverse · 2 days ago

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Sunsetz - Cigarettes after sex

➜Park Humin x fem!reader

"After last night, you started to feel weird. It must be nothing, right...?"

English is not my first language, so there might be grammar mistakes. Enjoy!!

It all started this morning.

His arms evolved around your waist. You have been awake since an hour ago, but something in the comfort of his arms makes you stay longer.

It's just the connection after last night. Were you two showed love in ways beyond words.

Due to university, the moments together felt like gold, finding time for each other was very difficult.

But your relationship with him was still there, like the first day you two started dating.

You started to draw soft patterns around his arms, his tan skin making contrast against yours.

Lost in thought, you closed your eyes, feeling the moment.

What didn't feel the moment was your stomach. It was the main reason you're awake.

There was a knot inside your stomach, but it wasn't like last night.

This one didn't get you butterflies and excitement. This was like Chernobyl inside you.

You tried not to give it much attention, but the sounds that were coming out, that was not good.

Humin seemed to feel how you moved around uncomfortable.

"What's up, Angel?" He hummed against your neck, still half asleep.

"Min, I have to go to the bathroom" You said, freeing from his arms.

He frowned a bit but didn't say anything.

As you make your way towards the sink, your head is fuzzy, seeing everything blurred and moving slowly, the kind of slow that was making your stomach twisted.

When you arrived, you opened the sink, letting the cold water touch your hands, and then your face.

Each water drop from your face, you feel it, in fact you were feeling everything.

How your breath was heavier than usual, Humin shirt against your skin, the cold tiles beneath your feet.

Your face in the mirror was pale, your eyes almost closed, your lips parted.

"Angel, is everything okay? You been there for ten minutes, " Humin said through the door. "Im going to enter"

Then he opened the door, sneaked a bit, and when he saw you standing at the sink, he made his way towards you.

He pattered the top of your head. "You're not feeling well?" His voice soft came out as he placed one string of your head behind your ear

You simply nodded. Humin took your shoulder and made you sit on the top of the bathroom. He kneeled in front of you.

"Is because of last night, was I too god?" He joked, trying to light up the mood.

And it worked, for a moment, you left a small laugh that he heard, but as soon as it came out, the pain did as well.

Then one thought appeared in your mind, was that possible?

You opened your eyes and looked at him scared

"Wha-What wrong?" He said with the same expression as you

"No, it can't be," you said more like trying to convince yourself than actually saying something

"What can't be, Angel?"

You didn't answer him. You weakly got up and opened one of the cabinets, searching for something.

A pregnancy test

Humin eyes wide open. "Do you really think -"

"I hope not." You cut him off, scared to hear him saying something related to the possibility of you being pregnant

✶

You two were now sitting on the floor, waiting for the test result.

You were hugging your legs, your chin on top of your knees.

Him on the other side, was with his legs lazily spread open on the floor, his back against the wall.

"I don't know why we are so nervous," you said, breaking the silence. "Im sure we are not going to become parents today." You looked at him, waiting for him to reply with something similar.

"Yeah, yeah, we use protection and all the measures needed," he replied, but you noticed on his tone that he was nervous, you dared to say, even scare.

"Humin..." The alarm that you set up ringed, meaning that time has passed and the result were ready.

Humin and you stood up with shaking hands you grabbed the test.

"Whatever the result are, im going to stand next to you," He said, interlinking his fingers to yours

You looked at him grateful. Having him next to you was making this less scary than you imagined.

When you finally looked at the result it came out with a straight line.

Negative.

You left out a laugh, more relaxed than minutes ago.

Humin looked at you, still not understanding the results.

"it's negative." You smiled at him. "It means im not pregnant." You showed him the result

He smiled the same way as you, letting a satisfied sound.

Humin grabbed you by your waist and lifted you up, spinning around.

"It's the best news of today. I don't think im ready to be a dad just now. " he placed you down "Lets celebrate this by eating a king-size breakfast, " Humin exclaimed, grabing softly your hand."May you accompany me this beautiful morning, my princess?"

You laughed, admiring his way to change mood so quickly. "Today and always my charming prince" You reply with the same tone as him.

Forgetting about the scare of moments ago, you two made your ways towards the kitchen to enjoy that today was not the day you two were welcoming a pregnancy.

That day will arrive eventually, just not today.

#kdrama x reader #weak hero class 2 x reader #weak hero x reader #whc2 x reader #x reader #baku x reader #park humin x reader #weak hero class one #park humin #ryeoun #baku weak hero #fem reader

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soft4changbin · 2 days ago

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The line between us

Brothers best friend Hyunjin x reader

Summary: Hyunjin and Han Jisung’s little sister slowly fall for each other amid playful teasing, growing tension, and quiet moments in the Stray Kids dorm. Though she doesn’t live with them, her frequent visits make her part of the family—until feelings between her and Hyunjin get harder to hide.

Word count: 3,015

The Stray Kids dorm was always chaos. There were empty ramen packets on counters, blankets thrown over every surface, and someone always yelling in the background—usually Changbin.

You didn’t live there, but you might as well have. You visited often enough that the members barely looked up when you walked in now, unless it was to ask what snacks you brought.

“Jisung!” you called as you slipped your shoes off by the door.

“In the kitchen!” he yelled back.

You padded in, hoodie sleeves covering your hands, and paused when you saw Hyunjin standing beside him, hair up in a messy ponytail, licking tteokbokki sauce off his fingers. He looked over, met your eyes—and for a split second, everything around you faded out.

Then he smiled. Not the big, performative one he wore on stage, but the small, quiet smile he saved just for you. It made your heart thud uncomfortably.

“You brought the energy drinks?” Jisung asked, breaking the moment.

You blinked and turned back to your brother, dragging your gaze away from Hyunjin.

“Yeah. And gummies. And, for some reason, a single banana because the cashier said it was cute.”

Hyunjin laughed behind you. You hated how your ears warmed at the sound.

—————————————————————————

It had started slowly. Of course it had.

Hyunjin had been Jisung’s best friend for years—always at your house growing up, always teasing you, always lounging on your couch like he owned it. You hadn’t thought much of him then. He was pretty, sure, but he was Jisung’s friend. Off-limits.

And then you grew up.

Or maybe he did.

Somewhere between your visits to the dorm and their comeback schedules, he started noticing you differently. Or you noticed him noticing. You weren’t sure when it changed. Maybe it was the night he stayed up with you on the balcony at 2 a.m., passing a bag of sour gummies back and forth, listening to you ramble about how hard your first year of uni was. Maybe it was when you caught him watching you laugh at something Jeongin said, his expression unreadable.

Or maybe it was just always there, and you were finally admitting it.

Whatever it was, it made the air in the dorm feel different. Warmer. Charged.

—————————————————————————

You were curled up on the couch one afternoon, sketchbook balanced on your knees, when Hyunjin flopped down beside you.

“Draw me something,” he said.

You didn’t look up. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something that feels like… right now.”

You side-eyed him. “That’s vague.”

He shrugged, lips quirking. “So are most things I like.”

You rolled your eyes but started sketching anyway. Hyunjin didn’t say anything, just watched you work, head tilted.

“What are you two doing?” Jisung asked, walking in.

Hyunjin sat up straighter. “Nothing. Just bothering your sister.”

Jisung huffed. “Don’t distract her. She’s better at art than you are.”

Hyunjin’s smirk slipped for just a second. You noticed.

You always noticed.

—————————————————————————

It became a pattern. Every time you visited, Hyunjin gravitated to you like it was instinct. He lingered beside you during meals. Let you braid his hair while the others gamed. Gave you his hoodie when you said you were cold—even though you weren’t.

One night, when the dorm was unusually quiet, you found him in the practice room. You hesitated in the doorway, but he spotted you in the mirror and waved you in.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked, sitting cross-legged near the wall.

Hyunjin shook his head, breath shallow from dancing. “You either?”

You shrugged. “It’s too loud in the room with Jisung. He talks in his sleep.”

Hyunjin laughed, wiping sweat from his neck with a towel. “He sings in his sleep sometimes.”

“I’ve heard.”

You both smiled, and then the silence stretched—not awkward, but full. Heavy.

“Come here,” he said.

You frowned. “Why?”

He reached out a hand. “I’ll teach you the chorus.”

You hesitated, but then your fingers were in his, and he was pulling you to your feet, positioning you in front of the mirror. You were too aware of how close he was, of his hand on your waist, the way his breath tickled your ear when he spoke.

“You’re stiff,” he murmured.

“That’s because I’m panicking.”

He laughed again, softer this time. “Don’t. I’ve got you.”

And he did.

—————————————————————————

That night, he walked you to the guest room and lingered at the door.

“Hey,” he said, voice low. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt Jisung.”

You blinked. “I know.”

“And I’d never cross a line with you unless…”

He trailed off.

“Unless what?” you asked, heartbeat thudding.

His gaze searched yours. “Unless you wanted me to.”

Then he left.

And you didn’t sleep.

—————————————————————————

Things changed after that. Not drastically—but enough.

The others still teased you both. Chan called you Hyunjin’s “shadow.” Seungmin raised a brow whenever he saw you two whispering on the balcony. But no one knew anything. Not really.

And you weren’t even sure what there was to know.

There were no kisses. No confessions. Just… moments. Looks. The brush of his hand against yours when no one was watching. The way he memorized your coffee order. The way you always sat beside him now, like your bodies couldn’t stand the space between.

It was unspoken.

And unbearable.

—————————————————————————

One evening, you were helping Lee Know prep dinner while Jisung and Hyunjin debated over which movie to watch. You were slicing green onions when you heard your name.

“She’s cool, okay?” Hyunjin was saying. “She’s funny. And thoughtful. She listens better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

You froze.

“Yeah,” Jisung replied. “But she’s my sister.”

“I know.”

“And you’re my best friend.”

A pause.

“I know that too,” Hyunjin said quietly.

You didn’t hear the rest. You excused yourself to the balcony and stayed there, heart twisting.

—————————————————————————

Later that night, Hyunjin found you outside, arms wrapped around your knees.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he said.

“I know.”

He sat beside you, close enough that your thighs touched. “You’re important to me. And I don’t know how to stop it.”

You turned your face to him. “Do you want to stop it?”

Silence.

Then: “No.”

Your breath hitched.

“But Jisung—”

“I know,” he said. “He’s the reason I haven’t done anything more. The reason I only look when he’s not looking. The reason I’ve memorized the sound of your laugh instead of asking to hear it on a date.”

You didn’t say anything.

His hand inched closer on the bench. Not touching—just there.

“If this is wrong,” he whispered, “then why does it feel like the only thing that makes sense?”

You didn’t answer.

You just slid your hand into his.

And stayed.

—————————————————————————

You didn’t label it.

You didn’t kiss him.

But something shifted that night.

There was a new weight to your visits now. A thread pulled tighter between you and Hyunjin. And the risk of discovery made every look burn brighter.

You came over less, at first. Trying to cool things down.

But it only made seeing him worse.

The next time you walked into the dorm, Hyunjin was on the floor playing cards with Jeongin, but the second his eyes landed on you, it was over.

He stood.

Didn’t say a word.

Just hugged you.

Longer than he should’ve.

And you let him.

—————————————————————————

That night, while everyone was asleep, you found him in the hallway.

“Hyunjin.”

He turned. The dim light caught on his cheekbone.

“Can we stop pretending?” you asked.

His chest rose with a sharp breath. “I thought you were trying to.”

“I was.”

“Did it work?”

You stepped closer.

“No.”

His fingers brushed your wrist. “Then tell me what this is.”

You pressed your forehead to his. “It’s us. And I don’t want to hide anymore.”

He didn’t kiss you.

Not yet.

He just held you.

But it felt like everything.

—————————————————————————

A month later, Jisung found out.

Sort of.

You were standing too close in the kitchen, Hyunjin’s fingers lightly tapping your arm, your laughter too soft to be casual—and Jisung’s eyes narrowed.

Later that day, he cornered Hyunjin.

“Just tell me the truth,” he said. “Do you like her?”

Hyunjin didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

“Are you… dating?”

“No.”

“But you want to.”

“…Yes.”

Jisung ran a hand through his hair. “You’re lucky I trust you.”

“I know.”

“And if you hurt her—”

“I’d never.”

Another beat passed.

“She’s the better Han anyway,” Jisung muttered, shaking his head.

—————————————————————————

When Hyunjin told you, you nearly cried.

“Really?” you whispered.

“He gave me his blessing. Reluctantly. But it’s there.”

You grinned, heart full.

Then you finally kissed him.

On the same balcony where it all began.

And it was soft.

Warm.

Like the end of waiting.

—————————————————————————

Now, you’re back on the couch, legs tucked under Hyunjin’s, your sketchbook open on your lap. The rest of the group is yelling about something on TV, but you barely hear it.

Because Hyunjin is looking at you like you hung the stars.

And you know this time, he’ll never look away.

#hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #hyunjin #han jisung

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