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seafarersdream · 3 months ago

Note

Thinking about Reader who has the ability to sleep everywhere and the cast always bothers her for that and they put things on her to see how long it takes her to wake up. But on one occasion she falls asleep on Ewan/Tom's shoulder and he's just a mess?? 😭

I don't know if it makes sense but the idea is there!! I love your work by the way

Out Of It (Ewan Mitchell x Y/N)

Y/N had always considered herself pretty grounded. Sure, she got to hang out with the cast, swapping jokes and stories like they were all old friends. But there was one little secret she kept tucked away, like a guilty pleasure—a huge, and she meant huge, crush on Ewan Mitchell. But, she reminded herself on the regular, it was just a celebrity crush. Nothing serious. A harmless little fantasy she kept to herself, because let’s be real—she was just the makeup girl, and he was, well, him. Then, one day, the universe decided to have a laugh at her expense.

TW // Strong language and profanities.

PS: I decided to take a different approach to the plot, hope it’s okay!

The sun was barely rising over the horizon when the makeup department bustled with activity, its team members moved with choreographed precision. The trailer was alive with the scent of coffee mingling with the chemical tang of latex and adhesive, the lifeblood of the team that assembled at ungodly hours to work their magic.

The door creaked open, letting in a gust of cool air, along with the unmistakable presence of Ewan Mitchell. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, taking in the scene with a wry smile. Dressed casually in a worn leather jacket, another one of his band t-shirt, and dark jeans.

“Morning, sunshine,” Y/N greeted, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glanced up from the prosthetic jaw she was carefully painting.

“Morning, Y/N. You look absolutely thrilled to be here,” Ewan replied dryly, his mouth curling into a smirk. He perched himself on a nearby chair, his lean frame relaxed but his gaze keen as it flicked over the team’s work.

Tom Glynn-Carney was already in the chair, his eyes closed as he tried to find some inner peace amidst the whirlwind around him. His usual charismatic energy was subdued, replaced with a resigned patience that only came from enduring this process multiple times. “Fucking hell, Y/N,” he muttered, peeking out from under his lashes. “Are we sure we need all this crap? It's just a flesh wound, right?”

Y/N laughed, a bright sound that cut through the tension like a knife. “Just a flesh wound? Sure, if you call half your face melting off just a flesh wound.”

He groaned slightly as one of the other makeup artists adjusted a piece of latex on his forehead. “Maybe just light me on fire for real next time.”

“I swear to God, Tom,” Y/N said, her voice cutting through the soft murmur of the trailer. She leaned in, squinting at the edges of the prosthetic around his left eye. “If you move your face one more time, I’m going to staple it in place.”

Tom’s laugh was muffled, careful not to disrupt the delicate work being done on his cheeks. “Sorry, boss. Just trying to keep the old face from going numb. Can’t feel my arse either, for that matter.”

“Is he behaving, or do I need to step in?” Ewan said from behind them.

“Barely,” Y/N replied without looking up, her hands steady as she pressed down the edge of the prosthetic along Tom’s jawline. “You can take him if you want, though. Maybe scare him into sitting still.”

“Fuck off,” Tom muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “Last thing I need is Ewan glaring at me while I’m trying to get through this torture.”

Ewan chuckled as he stands up and walked further into the trailer, his boots making soft thuds against the floor. “Don’t worry, mate. I’m just here for moral support.” He glanced at Y/N, his eyes lingering a bit longer on her than the others might have noticed. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” Y/N said, her tone matter-of-fact. She finally glanced up, meeting Ewan’s gaze briefly before returning to her work. “This is a fucking beast of a job, though. Five hours minimum, and that’s if Tom doesn’t fidget.”

Ewan nodded, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the counter beside Tom. “You’re a miracle worker, Y/N. Don’t let this tosser tell you otherwise.”

“Hey, I’m the victim here!” Tom protested, though his grin betrayed the seriousness of his words.

“Victim, my ass,” Y/N shot back, a playful edge returning to her voice.

Tom chuckled, though the movement caused Y/N to pause and glare at him. He immediately stilled, raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be good.”

Ewan watched the process with interest, his eyes following Y/N’s every move. He was always impressed by her skill, the way she could take something so gruesome and make it look so real. It was an art form, one that required patience, precision, and a bit of madness. And Y/N had all three in spades.

As Y/N worked, she could feel Ewan’s gaze on her, a constant presence that was both comforting and distracting. She ignored it as best as she could, focusing on blending the colors to create the perfect shade of burnt skin. But it was hard to ignore the way her pulse quickened whenever he was around, the way his voice seemed to vibrate in her chest whenever he spoke.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N finally leaned back, surveying her work with a critical eye. The prosthetics were in place, the scarring realistic and horrifying, just as it needed to be. She let out a small sigh of relief, wiping her hands on a cloth before tossing it aside.

“So, Ewan,” Y/N said, breaking the silence, “what do we think? Does our dear Tom look like he’s had a close encounter with dragonfire?”

Ewan stood, walking over to examine Tom up close. His face was thoughtful, eyes narrowing as he took in the horrifying sight. “You know, I think we could go a bit heavier on the singed eyebrows. Aegon doesn’t exactly seem the type to worry about grooming after this.”

Tom let out a groan. “Fucking hell, you two. I’m gonna look like I went through a meat grinder.”

Y/N laughed again. “Relax, Tom. You’ll be the prettiest corpse on set.”

Ewan smirked, stepping back to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. “Gorgeous, really. You’ll be the talk of King’s Landing.”

Tom rolled his eyes, clearly fed up but too deep into the process to protest further. “Great. Just what I always wanted.”

As the final touches were completed, Y/N stepped back, her eyes scanning over her work with a critical eye. “Okay, you’re done. How does it feel?”

Tom slowly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Y/N’s in the mirror. “Like I’ve been fucking roasted alive, which, I guess, is the point.”

“Perfect,” Y/N said, satisfaction in her voice as she began cleaning up her tools. “Alright, Glynn-Carney,” she continues, with a wave of her hand. “You’re done. Get out of my trailer before I change my mind and add a few more scars for good measure.”

Tom stood, stretching his arms and rolling his neck. “God, I can’t wait to see the reactions on set. Thanks, Y/N. You’re a fucking genius.”

“Don’t I know it,” Y/N replied with a grin. She watched as Tom exited the trailer. A spring in his steps.

Ewan stayed where he was, watching Y/N as she cleaned up her station. “You really are something, you know that?”

Y/N glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Just doing my job, Mitchell.”

“No,” Ewan said, shaking his head slightly. “It’s more than that. You’ve got a talent, Y/N. And a way of keeping us all in line.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Somebody’s got to keep you lot in check.”

Ewan’s smile was slow, genuine, and it made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. “Lucky for us, we’ve got you.”

They stood there for a moment, the silence stretching out between them, thick with possibilities. Finally, Y/N broke the gaze, clearing her throat.

“Well,” she said, her voice a little softer now. “Off you go then.”

Ewan nodded, still watching her as she moved around the trailer, his eyes never leaving her. “Yeah… I’ll see you on set.”

“See you,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper as he turned to leave.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she continued to tidy up.

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A hush falling over the room as the cameras rolled. The bedchamber set was dimly lit, the heavy velvet curtains drawn to block out the sunlight, casting long shadows that danced eerily across the stone walls.

Y/N stood on the sidelines, her arms crossed loosely over her chest as she watched the actors take their places. Andrij Parekh, the director for this episode, was seated in his chair just a few feet away, his sharp eyes focused intently on the monitors in front of him.

On the bed, Tom, fully transformed into the broken and battered Aegon II, looked like a man who had been to hell and back. The prosthetics had turned his face into a grotesque mask of burns and scars, his once vibrant features now hidden beneath layers of latex and makeup. His eyes, however, remained sharp, flickering with a mix of pain and defiance as he prepared for the scene.

Ewan, in full costume as Aemond Targaryen, stood near the foot of the bed, his posture rigid, every inch the cold, calculating Prince Regent. His long silver hair cascaded over his shoulders, the eyepatch over his left eye adding to the menacing aura that surrounded him. There was something chilling about the way he carried himself, a quiet intensity that made even the most seasoned crew members uneasy.

“Action,” Andrij’s voice cut through the silence, a single word that set everything into motion.

Ewan stepped forward, his boots barely making a sound on the stone floor. “Brother,” he began, his voice low and smooth, almost soothing, though the underlying threat was unmistakable. “How fortunate that you are awake. I was beginning to think you might sleep through the entire war.”

Tom shifted slightly on the bed, his movements slow, labored, as if even the act of breathing was painful. “Aemond,” he croaked, his voice hoarse, almost a whisper. “What… what do you want?”

Ewan’s lips curved into a thin smile, the kind that never reached his eye. “Only to ensure your comfort, Aegon. You’ve been through a lot, after all. It’s a wonder you even survived.”

Tom’s gaze flickered, a mix of confusion and fear crossing his features. “I don’t remember,” he muttered, his brow furrowing as if trying to piece together fragments of a nightmare. “I don’t remember what happened.”

Y/N watched intently, her eyes following every subtle shift in their expressions, every carefully chosen word. This was the kind of scene that could make or break an episode—the tension between the brothers, the unspoken accusations hanging heavy in the air.

Ewan leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, yet each word was laced with ice. “Good. Best you don’t remember. There’s nothing to be gained from dwelling on the past, after all. The future, however… that’s what matters now.”

Tom’s eyes darted to Ewan’s face, searching for something, anything, in the cold, indifferent mask that stared back at him. “I don’t… I wouldn’t…”

Ewan cut him off, his tone sharp, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You wouldn’t what, Aegon? Speak of things best left unsaid? Confess to some… imagined slight? No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.” He straightened, the threat clear in the deliberate casualness of his movements. “We’re brothers, after all. Blood of my blood. We wouldn’t want anything to come between us. Not now, not ever.”

Tom swallowed hard, his throat working as he tried to form words, but nothing came. The fear in his eyes was real, a reflection of the strained relationship that had been growing between the two of them, now laid bare in this moment of vulnerability.

“Good,” Ewan said softly, almost tenderly. He reached out, his hand hovering over Tom’s burned face, but he didn’t touch him, didn’t need to. The implication was clear enough. “Rest now, Aegon. Leave the burdens of the realm to me. You’ve earned your peace.”

With that, Ewan turned and walked away, the scene coming to a close as Andrij called out, “And.. cut!”

The tension in the room broke, the spell lifted as the crew sprang into action, adjusting lights, resetting props, preparing for the next take. Ewan relaxed his shoulders, the hard edge of Aemond’s persona slipping away as he returned to his usual self. Tom let out a long breath, his body sinking deeper into the bed, clearly relieved that the intense scene was over.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, impressed by the depth they’d brought to the scene. Ewan caught her eye as he walked over, his expression softening as he approached. “So, what do you think, Y/N?” he asked, his voice warm, a stark contrast to the cold menace he’d displayed just moments before.

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. “Not bad, Mitchell. You almost made me believe you’re the cruel bastard you play on screen.”

Ewan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. “Almost?”

“Hey, I know you too well,” she teased, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby prop table. “But seriously, you guys nailed it. That was intense.”

“Thanks,” he replied, his smile genuine, a hint of pride in his eyes. “It helps when you’ve got a good team watching your back.”

Y/N spied Tom’s hand moving from the corner of her eyes. “Fucking hell,” Tom muttered, reaching up to touch his prosthetic-covered face.

“Don’t even think about it,” she scolded, her voice carrying a mix of playful sarcasm and genuine concern. “You start messing with that, and we’ll be here for another few hours fixing it.”

Andrij approached them, nodding in approval. “Great work, everyone. We’ll take a short break before moving on to the next scene.”

As the crew began to disperse, Y/N caught Ewan’s eye again, her heart doing a little flip at the intensity of his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at her, something that made her pulse quicken, but before she could dwell on it, he was already turning away, slipping back into the role of Aemond, preparing for the next bit.

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The set was finally quiet, the last echoes of the day's filming fading into the background as Y/N, Ewan, Tom, Fabien, and Phia settled themselves near the steps of the Iron Throne. The towering seat of power loomed above them, but for now, it was just a backdrop to their impromptu snack break.

“God, I’m starving,” Tom groaned as he unwrapped a sandwich, his voice muffled as he took a massive bite. “You’d think they were trying to kill us with these hours.”

Phia laughed, shaking her head as she reached into a bag of crisps. “You’re such a drama queen, Tom. It’s only been, what? Twelve hours?”

“Twelve hours of torture,” Tom countered, wagging the half-eaten sandwich at her before taking another bite. “I deserve a medal, not just a bloody sandwich.”

Fabien grinned as he popped open a can of soda. “Maybe we’ll get you one shaped like the Iron Throne. Then you can lord it over everyone else even more.”

Y/N, perched comfortably beside Ewan, raised an eyebrow as she munched on a kebab. “Speaking of the Iron Throne, did you know that Emma and Matt tried to recruit me to Team Black today?”

That got their attention. Ewan, who had been quietly eating beside her, looked over with a curious glint in his eye. “Oh yeah? How’d they manage that?”

Y/N leaned in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “They promised me a seat on the Iron Throne, no questions asked. Said it’s about time someone else gets a chance, since someone” she shot a pointed look at Tom, “—has been hogging it all season.”

Tom feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “I’m just fulfilling my royal duties, Y/N. It’s not my fault you lot don’t have the je ne sais quoi to claim the throne.”

“Je ne sais quoi? Really? You’re so full of crap.” Phia repeated, barely containing her laughter.

“Exactly,” Y/N chimed in, leaning back on her hands as she eyed the throne. “But seriously, Tom, I need that selfie, okay? You’ve been banning everyone else from even getting close, and I’m not above switching sides to get my shot.”

Fabien smirked, leaning back against the stairs. “It’s true. You’re a tyrant, Glynn-Carney.”

Tom shook his head, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You all talk a lot of shit, but the throne belongs to me. You want a selfie? You’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

“That can be arranged,” Ewan deadpanned, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

As the conversation continued, the weariness of the day began to catch up with them. The energy slowly ebbed away, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. Y/N, who had been unusually animated, started to feel her eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the room and the low murmur of voices lulled her into a drowsy state, and before she realized it, her head began to droop.

Without warning, she leaned over, her head coming to rest on Ewan’s shoulder. The sudden contact made Ewan go rigid, his eyes wide with shock. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do. Should he move? Say something? Wake her up? But the last thing he wanted to do was disturb her, especially since he had been harboring a massive crush on Y/N for what felt like forever.

Tom, who noticed the situation first, nearly choked on his sandwich, desperately trying to stifle his laughter. He nudged Fabien, who quickly caught on and shot Ewan a wicked grin. “Looks like someone’s got a new pillow,” Fabien teased in a singsong voice, causing Phia to glance over and giggle.

Ewan’s face turned an impressive shade of red, his usual cool composure completely shattered. “Shut up,” he hissed, his voice low and tense as he tried to keep still, not wanting to wake Y/N. He could feel the warmth of her body against his, her hair tickling his neck, and despite his best efforts, his heart raced.

Y/N, oblivious to the chaos she’d unintentionally caused, snuggled a little closer, her breathing soft and steady. Ewan’s mind was in overdrive. Okay, don’t freak out. She’s just tired. She doesn’t even know she’s leaning on you. Just… act natural.

Tom, unable to resist, leaned over and whispered, “Careful there, Mitchell. Wouldn’t want her to wake up and realize she’s been cuddling with you.”

“Tom, I swear to God—” Ewan began, his voice a strained whisper, but he was cut off by Y/N shifting slightly in her sleep, making him freeze once more.

Phia, trying to be the voice of reason but failing miserably, leaned in with a grin. “Maybe she just knows you’re a softy, Ewan. Perfect for napping.”

Ewan shot her a death glare, his embarrassment only growing. “You’re all assholes, you know that?”

Fabien chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, but let’s be real, mate—this is adorable.”

Ewan groaned inwardly, knowing there was no escaping the teasing he’d endure from this moment. But as much as he wanted to retort, a part of him couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of Y/N resting against him, even if it was just because she was exhausted. His hand twitched slightly, tempted to brush a strand of hair from her face, but he resisted, not wanting to push his luck.

The ribbing continued around him, but Ewan barely heard it, his focus entirely on Y/N. For now, he’d let her sleep. And if it meant enduring the endless teasing from his friends, well… it was a small price to pay.

“Just wait until she sees the photos,” Tom whispered to Phia, pulling out his phone to capture the moment. Ewan’s eyes widened in horror, but it was too late.

“Don’t you dare!” Ewan hissed, trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn’t wake Y/N, but Tom just smirked, already snapping a few shots.

“This one’s going in the group chat,” Tom said smugly, causing Fabien and Phia to dissolve into laughter.

Ewan could only sigh, resigned to his fate. But despite the teasing and the inevitable jokes that would follow, a small, secretive smile tugged at his lips.

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Y/N had barely made it through the door of her flat before she collapsed onto the couch, her body finally catching up with the exhaustion of the day. She kicked off her shoes, letting them land haphazardly across the room, and leaned back with a groan, rubbing her temples as she tried to shake off the lingering embarrassment from the day’s events.

The picture of her sleeping on Ewan’s shoulder had exploded in the group chat, with the cast and crew having an absolute field day over it. The jokes had ranged from harmless teasing to outright accusations of a backstreet romance, leaving Y/N feeling mortified beyond belief.

God, I can't believe I fell asleep on him, she thought, covering her face with her hands for a moment before letting out a frustrated groan. She knew she had to address it, to apologize for the awkwardness, but the thought of actually texting Ewan made her stomach churn with nerves.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she steeled herself and typed out a message.

Hey, Ewan. Just wanted to say sorry for crashing on you earlier. I was so embarrassed when I saw that picture in the group chat. I hope I didn’t make things weird or uncomfortable for you.

She hit send and then dropped her phone on her lap, closing her eyes and letting out a long breath. The flat was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city outside her window, and for a moment, she allowed herself to simply exist in the stillness, trying not to overthink the situation.

When her phone buzzed a few minutes later, she opened one eye and glanced at the screen. Seeing Ewan’s name made her stomach flip, and she quickly unlocked her phone to read his reply.

Hey, sleepy head. Honestly, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t uncomfortable at all. You looked like you really needed the rest, and it was no trouble at all. Seriously, it’s no big deal.

Y/N felt a small wave of relief wash over her, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. But just as she was about to put her phone down, another message came through.

Fuck it, this is me shooting my shot—are you free this weekend?

She froze, staring at the screen as her brain tried to process what she was seeing. Was Ewan really asking her out? She reread the message a few times, half-convinced she was imagining things, but it was still there, plain as day.

A mix of shock and excitement surged through her, making her heart race. She sat up straighter, her mind spinning with possibilities. After what felt like an eternity, she finally mustered the courage to respond.

Wait, are you serious? Because if you are, then yes, I’m free. But if this is some kind of joke, I swear to God, Mitchell…

She held her breath, waiting for his reply, her fingers tapping nervously against her thigh. When her phone buzzed again, she almost dropped it in her haste to read the message.

Not a joke, I promise. I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while, just never found the right moment. And, well, maybe now’s the time.

Y/N felt a giddy warmth spread through her, the earlier embarrassment completely forgotten. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she tried to come up with something clever to say, but in the end, she opted for honesty.

I’d love to, Ewan. I guess I’ll see you this weekend then?

His reply came swiftly.

Definitely. And hey, if you need a nap while we’re out, I’ve got a shoulder for you anytime.

She couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in her chest finally releasing as she typed out her response.

You better be careful with offers like that, or I might just take you up on it.

Another ping.

Looking forward to it, Y/N.

As she put her phone down, Y/N found herself grinning like an idiot. She curled up on the couch, the weight of exhaustion lifting slightly as she thought about the weekend ahead. It seemed like this little nap incident might have been the best thing that happened after all.

#hotd #hotd fandom #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell x y/n #ewan mitchell x you #aemond targaryen

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elixirfromthestars · 2 months ago

Text

Lines Crossed

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warning(s): 18+ mdni / drinking / jealousy / forced proximity / smut / female reader / drunk jerk (stranger) / tension / will they won't they oh they will 🫣❤️‍🔥 / sex w/protection / pet names / sprinkles of possessive + protective Bucky so be prepared / there's a build-up so enjoy ❣️

Prompt: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

a/n: Please be kind this is my first time writing something like this. 🥺🩶 I decided to challenge myself and join @mercurial-chuckles‘ smutty September fest. A tad late on the deadline because Hurricane Helene decided to take the power out. 😭 This is a standalone fic, but you can most definitely read it (and is intended to be) as a continuation of the events of A Night of Frights & Delights. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! ❤️❤️

part one backstory // divider // ambiance 🤍

You step into the foyer of the Stark Manor, a grand staircase greets you, its golden railing glowing underneath an ornate chandelier. Various guests mingle around the manor, the buzz of conversation accompanying the music that pulses throughout. Everything about the sight in front of you screams old wealth and elegance.

Your eyes scan the luxurious home with an expression of awe. Despite being invited before, you had never come to one of Tony’s parties. Choosing the comfort of your bed and your favorite show instead. However, this time knowing a certain captain of the baseball team would be here—and your history with him—well you just had to come.

As you take it all in, your gaze locks on a pair of beautiful blues. The very same ones you were thinking of all day. And by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was awaiting your arrival just as much as you had been waiting to see him.

There was no denying he most certainly had been.

Bucky had arrived about half an hour earlier with some of his teammates. His impatience grew by the second at your absence. He was dying to see what you wore for the party. You denied him any sneak peeks, which only fueled his excitement. He tried distracting himself by greeting anyone he could and making conversation, but he continuously gravitated to the foyer, waiting for the moment you stepped in through those doors.

When you finally did, Bucky knew with the utmost certainty that the wait was worth it. When his eyes met yours you knocked the air straight out of his lungs with the black dress you were wearing. The satin dawning your body accentuated your silhouette perfectly—and the high slit at your right leg showed off the right amount of skin. The way you did your hair and your makeup complimented you perfectly, and Bucky was losing his goddamn mind because of it.

Sincerely, he was close to whisking you away and keeping you all to himself.

You looked nothing short of beyond stunning. Bucky had been holding back for months, staying within the lines you drew that night in the tent, and honestly, he deserved a medal for that. It’s the hardest thing he's ever done. What he felt for you couldn’t measure up to anything else in his life. Never had he felt so over the moon in his feelings for anyone. Yet, you brought on those sentiments by just being you. He was sure if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he was damn near close to it.

And right now, seeing you in that dress, his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. Places that only belonged to him and his bed on those nights you left him wanting more. Thoughts and scenarios where the night ends with him tearing that dress right off you and showing you just how serious he is about wanting you.

He’s not so sure he can be on his best behavior tonight.

Bucky discards the drink he had been holding and saunters over to you. Your heart races in your chest when you see the way his blues darken when he rakes his eyes over your form—shamelessly drinking you up. You take in his figure as well, the all-black suit giving him an aura of class and sophistication that was stirring something dangerous within you.

Bucky cleaned up good, real good.

He stops a mere foot away from you, his eyes twinkling with intentions both of you long for. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until his voice broke you out of your trance.

“There’s no way I’m letting you leave my side tonight, not in that dress,” Bucky’s voice is deeper than usual, contrasting the charming grin on his face. You roll your eyes playfully, “I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you reply amused at the thought. Having Bucky by your side all night would definitely lead to you two enjoying each other’s company in other ways.

Not that you would object if it did.

Bucky’s hand reaches out to touch you, your heart skipping a beat as he adjusts the strap of your dress on your shoulder. His touch lingers for a second more as a light chuckle escapes him. “Maybe not you sweetheart, but I might. Someone’s going to have to keep me in check tonight. I already have a hard enough time keeping my hands off of you and now you walk in looking like a masterpiece and I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He bites his bottom lip for a moment, almost as if to stop himself from saying too much.

“Something tells me you’re going to lay it on thick tonight, aren't you?” You tease him, all the while your body thrums with the way he compliments you. Bucky always knows exactly what to say to make you feel like the only girl in the room. An effortless gift he had only when it came to you.

“Can you blame me, baby? You walk in and suddenly it's like no one else exists,” his tone is softer, yet serious when he says this. Your heart skipped a beat when he called you baby. The weight of his attention felt in every fiber of your being. Bucky only ever called you baby when he wanted to really affect you. Reminding you of the pull he had over you.

The spell you two were under was suddenly broken by Darcy, who rushed over to where you were standing and linked your arm with hers. “Sorry! I’m going to steal her away for a bit there Bucky!” She says unapologetically as she tears you away from the man who looks like he could have devoured you if your friend hadn't interrupted. Your protests fall on deaf ears so you're left waving a small—but not definite—farewell to Bucky.

It seemed Bucky’s friends had been waiting for the right moment to steal him away too. As soon as you were in another room Sam and Steve went up to Bucky and dragged him to whatever antics the baseball team was up to. His disappointment matches yours, but if there was one thing he had proven all these months was that he had a lot of patience. He knew you two would end up crossing each other’s paths more than once tonight. It was only a matter of time.

“You forgot you promised to stick by my side tonight. My ex is here, I need the support,” Darcy reminds you with a slight pout. She looks like a ball of fire with the way she pulls you through the crowd in her crimson dress. Her eyes dart to every guest looking to avoid her ex at all costs.

“I didn’t forget. I was just saying hi to a friend,” you explain emitting a snort from Darcy, “A friend? If he’s just a friend than I’m the Queen of England.” You roll your eyes, a small huff of a laugh leaving your lips. Darcy wasn’t wrong. You and Bucky weren’t just friends, but you also weren’t anything more—and that was by your account.

You and Bucky have fallen into a grey area of what you are to each other. At first, after the camping trip, you tried avoiding him. Not because what happened upset you—but because you couldn’t trust yourself around him after that. Making out with him in that tent made you realize that what you thought had been an annoyance towards Bucky was actually the beginning of a deep-rooted crush. One that bubbled to the surface after that night.

Avoiding him altogether was an impossible task when he lived in the other apartment in the duplex you rented. Especially after he insisted on giving you rides back and forth from campus with the excuse that now that you two were friends it's only natural for him to be more friendly. By his definition, it also included things like buying you food on days he knows you’ve been too busy to get something for yourself, walking you to your classes whenever he has the chance, and going with you to art exhibitions to dabble in your passion with you.

Oh, and it also included kissing you mercilessly during tutoring sessions.

Around the time that fall semester began, Bucky asked you if you could tutor him on a few subjects. He hadn’t done the greatest academically last semester and he wanted to keep his grades up before baseball season started. You were hesitant at first, but ultimately gave in when you realized how sincere he was about needing the help.

Tutoring Bucky meant spending lots of time with him after classes. The sessions were innocent at first, but after the first time kissing on your bed, Bucky made it a tradition to have his lips on yours, and his hands wandering your body at every session. He even stopped hosting parties at his place, preferring being in your room and getting drunk on the taste of you.

Bucky was too infatuated by you to ever want to do anything else. Studying was an afterthought whenever you were around, and yet he was doing better than he ever had before in all his classes. Being someone you could be proud of was honestly the best motivation he could ask for.

Deep down you knew you were falling for him. There was a bit of apprehension on your part as you hadn’t known Bucky to ever have a girlfriend. From what you can remember, ever since you’ve known him, he was the kind of guy who preferred flirting and casual encounters. And there was no guarantee you would be the one to break that. So to keep yourself safe you drew those lines—built those walls up high to guard your heart. Bucky respected those lines and never crossed them. No matter how badly he wanted to.

Some days, like today, made you want to say screw the lines and just give in to what you desired most. However, when that desire included lowering those walls you put in place, you weren’t brave enough to risk it—so you didn’t. Instead, you and Bucky danced around those lines until it drove you both mad.

Your thoughts follow you for the next hour as you stay by Darcy’s side. Bucky has this natural way of consuming your mind lately—and your sketchbook. You wish you had it with you right now because when your feelings decide to overflow you channel that intensity onto the paper. For months, every page had been filled with graphite drawings of Bucky. His smile, his eyes, his determined expression when studying, his confident stance during baseball games, and everything else that sparked the creative fire in you. You found a lot of solace in drawing him.

Bucky was undoubtedly your favorite muse.

You're so lost in your thoughts you don’t register you’re in the kitchen of the manor until the guests around you cheer. It seems Darcy and Thor have fallen into a friendly competition of sorts to see who could down more shots than the other in one minute. A group of spectators and friends have gathered in the kitchen to watch the showdown go down. Your eyes dart to Jane who only gives you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. She is not looking forward to having to drive those two home later.

Contrary to your friends, you weren’t drinking much tonight. Bucky’s lingering presence at the party was all your senses needed to feel like you were in a daze. For appearances, however, you decide to grab one of the red solo cups to blend in with the rest of those around you.

“Hey, Y/n! Enjoying the party?” A male’s voice comes from your right and when you turn to see who it is a friendly smile appears on your face. It was Ian Boothby, a fellow art major at your university. You’ve had him in enough of your classes to consider him a friend.

“Hey, Ian. Yeah, I’m having a good time. Are you?” Your question is a catalyst for a much longer chat with Ian. The two of you fall into light conversation about the semester, art, and other relevant topics. It's a nice breath of fresh air compared to the thoughts that had been consuming you tonight. Especially when he tells you the story of one of his painting mishaps causing you to laugh along with him.

Soon after, a hand snakes its way around your waist, and when you smell that familiar woody muskiness you know exactly who it is.

“Having fun without me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks, his lips forming a smirk. You face him and the look in his eyes stills you.

Bucky does not look pleased.

“Bucky, hey man. How’s baseball prep?” Ian beats you to it by addressing Bucky first. Bucky's eyes flick between you and Ian before he presses you into his side by the hold on your waist. This does not go unnoticed by Ian.

“Boothby, it's going good. How’s the cross-country season treating you?” Bucky asks, his tone giving away how uninterested he is in continuing this conversation. If Ian picks up on the animosity he doesn’t show it as he goes on and on about the sport. Bucky’s impatience grows the more he speaks and his hold on you gets a little more firm. When Bucky’s expression finally gives way to how he genuinely feels Ian finds a way to excuse himself and exit the conversation.

A beat passes before you finally speak, “Ian’s my friend. You didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you say with slight annoyance. Bucky clicks his tongue as he eyes you closely, “I didn’t, but I felt like it,” he shrugs cooly. “Didn't like the way he was looking at you.” He adds, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist.

“Oh? And how was he looking at me?”

“Like in the way only I should be.”

The possessiveness in his voice catches you off guard. The air electrifying around you both at his words. You weren’t going to drink, but you suddenly felt the need to. You take a sip of the substance in your cup, the bitter liquid doing little to ground you. Bucky can tell how he’s affecting you and joins you with his drink. His eyes never leave yours as he gulps some of it down.

You have to stop yourself from inhaling the entire thing in one go.

“Ian’s harmless. He’s just comfortable with me because he’s an art major too. I’ve had a lot of classes with him,” you do your best to continue the conversation and ignore the way your body heats up when Bucky gives your hip a possessive squeeze. Massaging the area afterward in gentle strokes.

“You do a lot of bonding over paint?” Bucky’s response is slightly mocking, licking his lips to catch a drop of alcohol that wanted to escape. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he relishes the way you're looking at him now. Your gaze trained on his lips. When you realize he’s noticed, the heat from your body goes straight to your face.

You wouldn’t let him have the upper hand though. Never.

“Well, when you have to sketch someone’s naked body you obviously become friendly,” your reply causes Bucky to choke on his drink, the hand at your hip falling as he uses it to grab a few napkins from the granite counter behind him to wipe at the mess he made. You hide a wicked grin behind the rim of your cup.

He narrows his eyes at you, “Excuse me? What does that mean?” He knows what you mean, but he’s giving you a chance to tell him you're joking. He’s not hiding the jealousy that crawls up his spine at your revelation.

“It means Ian’s a nude model for some of my classes. He may not look like it but underneath those layers, he’s got the most gorgeous—” Bucky cuts you off with a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you into him. There’s been plenty of times you’ve shut him up with your mouth and it was his turn to return the favor. Because hearing you talk about the naked body of another man gets under his skin in ways he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to just stand there and hear another word of it.

The kiss catches you by surprise, but soon your drink is discarded in favor of pulling him closer by his blazer. Not caring who sees or what anyone thinks, since it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in front of others. Your craving for him was far too loud to ignore anymore. Your lips stay locked until your lungs burn begging for air.

Bucky pulls away with a smug smile, his voice an octave lower as he moves to whisper in your ear, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I know you love getting a rise out of me, but just so we’re clear—next time you want to mess with me like that—I’ll make sure you can’t even stand after I’m through with you,” his declaration causes a shiver to make its way up your spine.

You swallow hard, your mouth opening to say something, but no sound comes out. Bucky lets out a rough chuckle, ghosting his lips against your cheek before pulling away to stare at how speechless he’s left you. He’s blatantly savoring every second of it.

You want to say something—anything. Something witty or playful, but the thought of him making good on his promise—the image it conjures in your mind—keeps you silent.

“Buck! You’re needed at beer pong! Tony’s team is winning and the bet is up to five hundred,” Steve rushes into the kitchen, breaking through the bubble you two were in. His eyes dart between you and Bucky with a knowing look. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you two.

You start to register there’s still an extravagant party happening around you.

Bucky sighs with slight irritation as he once again gets his moment with you interrupted. He reluctantly tears his attention away from you to call back to Steve, “I’ll be right there!” Steve nods in approval before going back the way he came.

Now’s your chance to say something, but Bucky pulls away from your body before you can. A coldness replacing where his touch used to be. “Hold that thought, baby. Looks like my team needs their star player,” he winks at you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead, “you keep thinking about what I said while I’m gone,” he says in a gruff whisper, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip in a barely there touch.

He knows he needs to leave before he takes this somewhere you can’t go back from.

Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to say anything as he makes a smooth exit. Heading out of the kitchen in the direction of the beer pong game. Your body prickling with an ever growing sexual frustration. You were embarrassingly close to snatching Bucky away and giving in to all your desires in one of the many rooms of the manor.

“You two need to get a room,” Jane seems to read your mind as she teases you. Appearing from behind you once Bucky was no longer in sight. You can’t deny her words, letting out a small huff, “I don’t know what good that would do. I’ve been clear about not wanting to take things further.” You explain to her, not sure if you could go back on your words for the sake of giving in to what you want now. Jane has had this conversation with you a few times before, and it appears she's hit her limit today.

“That man is absolutely head over heels for you. How can you not see that?” Jane shakes her head at you, wondering how she can make you realize what you already know yet deny. There's a vulnerability that overcomes you when you reply, “It’s not that I don’t see it. I just—I’ve never seen him be serious about anyone. The only thing he’s ever serious about is baseball.” Jane looks like she’s about to do something drastic at your denial.

“Y/n, Bucky is serious about you. He’s literally all about you—he’s chosen you over baseball many times. I’m not around him like you are and even I can see it clear as day. Do you know Thor and like half of the baseball team thinks you two are secretly dating? Stop denying what you know deep down is true and just give in—be happy,” Jane tells it like it is, her tone leaving no room for argument or denial.

For so long Bucky has shown you another side of him—one not many get to see. He’s given you priority and importance when he didn’t have to. Care and consideration when you needed it most. A shoulder to lean on and a steady support to rely on. Time and time again Bucky has demonstrated how much you mean to him.

Perhaps, you both have been something more to each other for a long time and Bucky’s kept his wishes at bay to make sure things developed at your pace.

When it finally hits you, you almost feel exposed by how skillfully Jane can read you. At how easily she can see the situation for what it is and not for what your worries twisted it to be. If Bucky had made it clear to you how he felt, what was stopping you from taking things further than they had been before?

At this point, nothing, nothing was stopping you but yourself.

This realization follows you to the dance floor. A very drunk Darcy had pulled you to it along with Jane, babbling tipsily after losing the drinking competition to Thor. You had never seen a living room with such high ceilings before or enough room to host a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth. The living space had been stripped of its furniture and supplied with top-notch equipment to make it resemble the inside of a club.

At least in the near darkness, it resembled one.

You’re in a huddle of your closest friends, all of them letting the music guide their movements to their heart’s content. You sway absentmindedly, so you're not merely standing there awkwardly. The kaleidoscope of party lights strobe and kiss your skin with an array of colors as the music thumps around your body.

A loud cheer catches your attention, the source of the sound coming from a table on the far left end of the room. Tony and his friends were boisterous as they made a shot against their opponent's team in beer pong—Bucky’s team. You had a clear view of it all from where you stood.

Bucky’s team seems to be taking turns on who drinks every time Tony’s team makes a shot. They look amongst themselves until Bucky steps up and chugs the liquid in the red solo cup. It's like he can feel the shift in the air because as soon as the cup is away from his lips his eyes scan the space and find you, and suddenly it's like you two are the only two people in the room.

You want him—all of him. You enjoy the teases, the banter, the back and forth, but you know you’d enjoy calling him yours more.

The music picks up in tempo as your boldness grows. Keeping your eyes trained on him, your hips begin to sway provocatively, tempting him to say screw the game and make his way towards you instead. Bucky’s not even paying attention to the game anymore his eyes soaking up your every move as it fans the flames of desire between you. The atmosphere around you buzzes as the ground shakes due to the sea of dancing bodies, and yet nothing thrums within you more than your need for Bucky.

The little show you’re putting on for him continues as you roll and wave your body in ways that seduce him. Ghosting your hand along the curves and dips of your figure showing him exactly where you’d like his hands to be. Bucky’s mind is reeling with everything he wants to do to you and none of it involves the dance floor and all of it involves you and him in some private corner of the manor where he can show you exactly what his hands are capable of.

You are making it impossibly hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

Slowly and with shady intentions a group of drunk guys circle the huddle of you and your friends like vultures. Finding their way to snake themselves into any corner or crevice they can fit into. Their bodies bumping and grazing against yours. There’s one guy in particular that has his sights set on you. Getting closer to you on the dancefloor and creeping his hands along your waist. You swat his hands away, but he doesn’t disperse immediately. The alcohol on his breath fanning your face causing you to gag. The more you dismiss him the more adamant he was about keeping you close to him.

Almost instantly, a protective grip pulls you away from the drunk guy. A familiar warmth encases you as Bucky pulls you into his chest, your back to him. Your hands find their way to hold his arms to ease the displeasure the drunk had caused.

Bucky glares at the drunk guy, his gaze cold and unapologetic, “Alright, that's enough.” The drunk guy sneers, his words slurred, “What the—what’s your problem bro? We’re just—” Bucky doesn’t let him finish, “Shut up. You’re not doing anything. You’ve got two seconds to back off or we’re going to have a problem,” Bucky’s reply is sharp and menacing. He directs it to all the men that had swarmed you and your friends.

Shifting you so you stand at his side, Bucky steps forward to let the guys know he’s not messing around. Your hold goes to his right arm where you’re watching the exchange unfold anxiously. You hope things don’t escalate, not wanting Bucky to get into a scuffle. You know he can handle himself, but the idea of him getting hurt in any way caused your heart to ache.

The guys size Bucky up and it seems some of them think they can take him on. Until the strobing lights illuminate Bucky’s darkened gaze enough that in their drunk haze, they finally recognize him as captain of the baseball team. That means that fighting Bucky meant taking on the entirety of the team. And with the way Sam and Steve were looking over to see if they needed to step in, and Thor was already storming over—they knew they didn’t stand a chance.

It was comical the way the drunk men scramble to get away as fast as they could. Muttering incoherences and apologies under their breath. They don’t get far as Tony’s hired security for the night promptly kicks them out.

Thor comes up to check on everyone, giving special attention to Jane who keeps assuring him she’s fine. You turn to Bucky, who’s already inspecting you to make sure you are alright, “Bucky I—” You almost tell him not to worry, that you had things under control, but in reality, you’re glad Bucky stepped in.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, Bucky’s tense demeanor softens at your words. He moves to get a better hold on you, his grip at your waist protective teetering on possessive.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. I got you—always,” Bucky’s genuine response makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken. Your senses are awakened by his proximity, completely enamored with the way he looks at you.

“Plus, if I’m going to fall for the most beautiful girl in the world, I have to know how to fight right?” Bucky says this like it's the most obvious thing, smirking at the way you don’t hide the smitten grin he elicits from you. There’s a sparkle in your eyes as you stare at him, Bucky’s heart racing at the sight of it.

“You and your compliments,” you give a breathless laugh, letting your guard down for once and going with the flow. Bucky can sense it. Sense the way there’s a shift between you, the blossoming of something bigger being accepted and not pushed away by you anymore.

“Only for my girl,” he says this like a promise. His right-hand goes up to gently brush against your cheek. You lean into the touch, that same hand cupping your cheek in response. Bucky has never felt more elated knowing that maybe finally you two can go to places he’s only dreamed of.

“Yours?” You question him playfully, which causes him to chuckle, the sound a low rumble, “You and I both know you are, sweetheart. I told you I had all the time in the world to make you fall for me—and I meant it,” he smiles, an intense fire in his eyes that only accumulates when you respond, “You don’t have to wait any longer, Bucky.”

He wastes no second to connect your lips, kissing you with a loving purpose. His lips have a slightly bitter taste to them from the beer that still lingered there. And yet, the bitterness disappears when one kiss turns into two and then three. His arms encircling you to pull you into his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck.

Bucky pulls away to ghost his lips against your jaw until his lips brush against your ear, “Those little moves you were doing for me earlier, do them again,” his husky tone sends a shiver down your spine as he tugs you in to dance with him. Your bodies mold to one another, hips swaying in rhythm with the vigorous music. The beat allows you to gyrate and grind in ways that drive him to the edge of his control.

His hand rests on the small of your back, holding you close, fingers splayed out as if making a silent claim. You can feel the way his gaze burns into you, the air getting hotter making it harder to breathe. Your hands trail up and down his arms as need be. The rest of the party fades away leaving you two alone in this space of this charged energy. Every lingering touch and longing glance is layered with unspoken urges that would soon intensify to the brink of madness.

“You have no idea what you do to me do you?”

“I do. I’m not immune to what’s going on between us, Bucky.”

Your body, your voice, the way you plead with your eyes for him to take this further—it causes a stirring within his pants—the fabric getting tighter the longer the dance goes on. He needs to get you away, to get you alone. Bucky needs to satiate this hunger for you that threatens to consume him or he is going to end up doing something Rated R on this dance floor.

The throbbing between your legs agrees.

An idea pops into Bucky’s mind when he glances at his group of friends. He increases the volume of his voice so you can hear him over the music, “The baseball team was going to host a game of hide and seek. Should we play?” Playful mischief glimmers in his eyes as he asks you.

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” You raise a brow, wondering how that was going to work in a mansion full of a million rooms.

“Yeah, come on. It'll be fun,” Bucky draws you away from the dance floor and over to where his friends are mingling and taking a few shots. Steve sees Bucky approach and they have a quick whispered exchange. Your eyes dart between them, curious as to what they're discussing.

“Seems like we’re getting a head start,” he comments to you as he leads you away from the main party and down a few intricate hallways. His hold on your hand is firm, yet careful—almost as if he’s afraid you’ll get lost in one of the many corners of the manor. The thrum of the music fades the further you slip away from the party. Your pulse spikes, both from the adrenaline of the game and the heat that still simmers between you.

Bucky has been to Tony’s parties plenty of times before, so he knows the layout of the manor pretty well. The clicking of your heels along the marble floors echoes at the pace of the beating of his heart. He tries to focus on the expensive artwork that lines the halls instead of the way your hand perfectly fits in his. The artwork is what’s guiding his path through the manor and you are the best distraction he could ask for.

“Where are we going?” Your voice echoes down the endless hallway.

“Somewhere no one will find us,” he winks at you, your heart skipping a beat at his words, his pace steady and purposeful as he turns one more corner and slips you two inside a room. You're encased in darkness, blindly feeling for a light switch until Bucky uses the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the space. You faintly make out your surroundings. You seem to be in one of the many guest rooms of the manor. The attention to detail in the room was no short of the attention paid to the rest of the place.

You knew Tony’s family had money, but seeing how they splurged for a mere guest room, meant his family was beyond loaded.

Bucky whispered something to you, but you didn’t catch it as he took you by the hand and ushered you into the room’s closet, clicking it shut behind him. He reaches up to turn on the small lightbulb to cascade the enclosed space in a soft glow, turning off the flashlight on his phone and putting it in his pants pocket. The tension is now thicker and more palpable in the small space, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

If you had a dollar for every time you and Bucky ended up in a tight space together, you would have exactly two dollars. While maybe strange, it somehow seemed fitting for you two.

Bucky steps closer to you, your bodies inches apart, the dim light doing nothing to dull the intensity in his eyes, “Now that I’ve got you here—I think I did a good job with the hiding spot, don't you?” His heated whisper brings your breath to a hitch.

You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, “I don’t know…We had a whole mansion to hide in, and you chose a closet?” You can’t help but tease him, trying to lighten the unbearable tension.

“Would you rather go hide in the library? The wine cellar? The arcade?” His voice is dripping with mirth taking another step closer to you. He knows what you're doing, but he’s not going to let the tension die down—not this time.

“The arcade sounds fun,” you quip, leaning back against the wall.

“Hm, maybe, but I prefer the closet. It’s a lot more private and it has its…advantages,” he reaches out to pull your hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss across your knuckles. You go to use that hand to lightly push at his chest, but he catches it in time and intertwines your fingers instead. Your heart is racing a mile a minute.

“Maybe the closet isn’t so bad, but these heels…Worst decision I made tonight,” you shift slightly, not meaning to change the subject, but your heels are torturing you. In the quiet of the closet the pain begins to creep up on you, begging to be acknowledged. After hours of walking on them, dancing, and standing overall—your feet were killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand upright while hiding.

“Are they hurting you?”

“Yeah, a bit.��

“Lets get them off then,” Bucky slides his hand underneath your right thigh, eyes locked on yours, as he hikes it up against the outside of his leg. Your hips brush up against his front, your breath catching at the intimacy of the moment. He watches your every reaction as he slides his hand down the underside of your leg until he reaches the strap of your heel. He’s able to undo it effortlessly, relieving you of the discomfort, his fingers grazing your ankle as he slides your right heel off. His every touch leaves heat in its wake.

“Bucky you really don't have to—” he cuts you off with a soft smile and half-lidded eyes, switching his hold from your right leg to your left one, “I want to, sweetheart. Just let me help, ” he removes the other heel with the same tantalizing tenderness he used for the first one. Putting them to the side where they won’t get in the way.

The relief you feel is immediate.

“Better?”

“Much.”

“Good.”

A moment passes before he speaks, his voice quiet with an underlying devotion, “You don’t get the hold you have on me, do you?’’ His right hand dances along the outside of your thigh while his left plays with the strap of your dress, twirling it between his fingers. The hand at your thigh traces patterns onto it. Trailing intricate swirls across the flesh, along your hips, ascending to your waist, and all the way up to the space between your breasts. The touch lingers there when you let out a soft sigh.

You honestly forget how to breathe.

“Say the word and I’m all yours, Y/n,” his voice is rough as his lips ghost against yours—seductively grazing against them. Going so far as licking his lips with an invigorating grin to really drive you crazy.

Bucky is waiting for you to make the deciding move. When you realize this, you throw all caution to the wind, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. You waste no time in granting him access to deepen it. Bucky follows your lead ardently. His hands snake down your body to cup your ass and pull you impossibly close to him.

Your hands get lost in his hair, a groan rumbling through him at the way you tug at it. You two aren’t sweetly kissing, you're devouring each other. Yearning for the other all night leaves no more room for taking things slow or holding back. You’re both now giving in to what you want most—each other.

The heat between you intensifies until it crescendos to a boiling point. The aching between your legs imploring you to do something about it. You reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants, causing Bucky to let out a husky laugh.

“If you want something use your words, sweetheart,” he mutters against your lips, you suppress a groan, “You know what I want. I don't have to say it,” you retort impatiently. Bucky shakes his head, smiling despite himself, “I want to hear you say it,” he dips his head to the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. The hands on your ass give it a light squeeze emitting a small gasp from you. You can feel the shit-eating grin on your neck.

“Bucky….I…” your words are cut off by a soft moan when Bucky’s left hand sneaks its way through the slit of your dress until he reaches the inside of your thighs. He massages the flesh there, his thumb brushing against the hem of your panties.

Your arousal pools impossibly more, and the lustful haze only increases at the way you feel his hardened cock straining against his pants—right against your hip.

“Mm? What was that, baby? Couldn’t hear you over those pretty noises you're making,” his every word drips with cockiness.

“You're insufferable.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky kisses your neck with more fervor. Sucking and nipping at the skin hard enough to leave marks. Your thighs involuntarily close together at the way he calls you his girl. He eases them back apart with his deliberate touches. Kneading the soft flesh in his hands as his breathing goes ragged along your neck, tickling your skin. He was on the brink of losing what little control he had left.

You suck in a sharp breath, losing what little semblance of control you had left the higher his touch gets. He only goes so far, barely brushing across your clothed cunt to give you a taste of what he can do if you just let him hear it. You were desperate for more and he knew it.

“Fuck me, Bucky,” you manage to whimper out, hooking your fingers into his empty belt loops and yanking him towards you. Bucky lets out a low growl at the brief friction, his eyes darkening to an almost unrecognizable color. For a moment, his brain short circuits at your words, processing that you really said that to him accompanied by that alluring sound. He’s heard those sinful noises from you before, but never like this. Never with the assurance of more.

“Say it again.”

“Bucky, please just fuck me already.”

You don’t have to tell him another time. Bucky crashes his mouth onto yours with a new intensity, mumbling lustful promises into your mouth. How he wants you, how badly he aches to make you feel good, how he yearns for his pretty girl to lose herself with him, and so many more things that make you dizzy.

He moves to bunch up your dress, hiking it up your legs until it's bundled at your waist. His breathing strains at the sight—your black lacy panties luring him in—his muscles tensing at the growing need to be inside you. His left arm reaches down to hook his forearm under your knee and bring it up to his hip. You wrap that leg around him, steadying yourself on your other foot as you grind against each other. You can feel the way his cock aches to be freed and it causes you to arch deeper into him. Your moans mingle into one, the slight relief overwhelming you.

Bucky takes his free hand and splays it at the small of your back, offering strong support as your bodies continue to grind against one another. A chorus of moans and yearnful whines erupt from you both. All of the pining and hunger for one another amalgamates into one as you continue to rub against each other. You swallow each other’s sounds, tongues tangling carnally as neither of you leaves any room for air.

“Do you have—?”

“Back pocket. Wallet.”

Your lips barely disconnect at the brief exchange. You reach behind him, patting down his backside until you feel the outline of his wallet in his pocket. You take hold of it and bring it forward. Meanwhile, Bucky decides to leave wet kisses along the valley of your breasts. You can barely contain yourself and your soft moans as you pull out the condom. The wallet almost slips from your grasp as the attention to your breasts causes you to tremble.

You hold it tighter intending to put it back in his pocket when something catches your eye. In the clear slot where his identification should be is a polaroid picture from the weekend camping trip. You’re in that picture sitting next to Bucky on a couple of logs surrounded by your friends and peers. There’s a bright smile on Bucky’s face, his arm around your shoulder as you make bunny ears behind his head.

You love this picture. You have a copy of it taped to your bedroom mirror back home.

At your stillness, Bucky looks up to see what’s going on. When he notices you staring at the picture, he smiles fondly. " It's the only picture I had of us,” he utters softly, causing a warmth to spread throughout you. You gaze at him in tender awe, marveling at the fact that Bucky is real.

Why had you ever doubted he was anything but yours?

You kiss him this time with all the unspoken feelings you’ve bubbled up and kept inside. The wallet falls from your hands, but it's no matter as Bucky kicks it to the side with his foot, and shudders at the way your lips claim his. This goes beyond lust. Your heart beats with reason, and that reason is the man in front of you.

“Bucky, I want this. I want you. All of you,” you whisper passionately, your hands lowering to help him unbutton and unzip his pants, the foil neatly tucked between your fingers. A guttural moan leaves him when you push the layers of fabric down and free his cock, pumping it a few times to get a feel of it. His head falls to your shoulder, sighing softly in a near whine as you tear the foil open and roll the protection down his length. It twitches in your hands, his hips bucking at the contact.

His arms are preoccupied with keeping you close and steady, so you gently guide him to your center. Moving your panties to the side as he tantalizingly slides along your folds before he slowly enters you. Your mouth goes agape at the sensation while Bucky has to do everything to make sure he doesn’t cum right then and there.

This was so much better than what he had imagined in his dreams.

It's been too long since you’ve done this and the burn at the stretch causes you to cry out quietly. Bucky peppers your face with sweet kisses and whispers of devotion. Trying to do his best to comfort you as he lets you adjust inch by inch. The hand at the small of your back rubs circles into it with his thumb, your own hands shooting up to grip his biceps for support.

“I’m not gonna last if you tighten up like that sweetheart,” he hisses a groan at how tightly your walls envelop him. You’re really making it hard for him to not come undone in a short amount of time.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, just relax for me.”

His gentle words are accompanied by thrusts that are slow with a deliberate purpose. He’s careful with his pace as he wants this to go at whatever speed you need. It takes a bit, but his soft kisses and comforting touches coax the burn away until you're left with the ardent ache of needing more.

“Faster, Bucky,” you plead breathily. He rests his forehead against yours.“Can you handle it, baby?” His question is full of loving concern, prioritizing your pleasure over everything.

“I can…fuck…please,” you assure him, your leg pulling him in tighter causing him to bottom out. Bucky curses and moans all in one. At your assurance, he picks up the pace of his hips, rocking them against you with a fiery velocity. The lewd sounds bouncing off the walls of the closet in waves.

He gives it to you exactly how you asked him to. That man would do anything for you—just say the word and its done.

Bucky is on cloud nine at the way you take him. The way your bodies mold and arch into one another’s like you can’t get enough. As if all you ever needed to consume to live was each other. When he goes to kiss you, you can barely kiss back as you’re too lost in the way he slams into you.

“Fuck, baby, if only you could see yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous making those pretty expressions for me,” Bucky grunts out, drinking up the sight of your face. A string of mewls leaves your lips at the keen attention he keeps on you. Everything about you right now is a work of art in his eyes he wants framed and kept at his bedside. A constant reminder he’s the one who gets to make you look and feel so damn good.

“Don’t stop, please don't stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.”

Your words egg him on to go harder, causing your back to press tightly against the wall. Hiking your leg just a tad bit higher to thrust into you at another angle. This was the best decision he ever made as he hits the perfect spot within you. One that leaves you clinging onto him desperately as your walls tighten on the brink of release.

It takes a few more fierce drives into you until your orgasm hits you and you're cumming with a feverish intensity. Moaning Bucky’s name in a euphoric mantra that’s music to his ears. It's what brings him over the edge and he stills at the force of his orgasm, his head collapsing into the dip of your neck as he releases into the condom.

“My girl. My sweet girl. You feel so good, baby,” Bucky softly whispers against your neck. Planting small kisses as both of you come down from your highs. Your arms wrap behind his neck to embrace him and keep him close to you. Bucky continues to mutter sweet praises along your skin, as your hands thread through his hair tenderly. Both of you steadying your breaths as you come back down to Earth.

If it weren't for Bucky holding your right leg up, it would've fallen from its position at his hip long ago. You’re even more grateful for it now as your body felt completely boneless. And when he pulls out, its the grip he has on your body that keeps your knees from buckling.

Bucky lifts his head so his gaze locks on yours. His blues are swimming with a vehemence that steals your breath and causes your pulse to race.

“Y/n, I…I wanted to give you some time. Time to figure things out—to figure out what you wanted. I tried pretending I was okay with pieces of you, but I’m not. I want all of you. I want to be yours,” Bucky confesses with sincerity. You reach out to interlock your hands with his, a floodgate of emotions engulfing you.

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s not hearing it, afraid you’ll want to go back to a place that would devastate him. “Wait, just hear me out. Everything I ever did was to get you to notice me. From the moment we met there was just something about you that kept pulling me in. And I knew—I just knew I had to get to know you. And then one thing led to another and I fell for you—hard. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. There's only you. It’s always been you. Give me a chance, let me prove it to you every day, that I’m yours. That I have been for a long time,” Bucky’s tone borders on pleading, you give his hands a light squeeze to ease the worry in his features.

“Bucky you have nothing to prove—”

“Y/n—”

This time you stop him by clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Bucky, you have nothing to prove because I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just fought it for so long out of fear that maybe you weren’t serious about me. But I can see now I was wrong. I’ve been yours for a long time too, Bucky. I just pretended I wasn’t—and I’m done fighting it. I’m done being in denial. I want to have something serious with you. I’m ready for it,” your heartfelt confession immediately melts away the tension in Bucky’s shoulders.

You wanting this as much as he did made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He mumbles something into your hand, the biggest grin on the other side of it. You laugh adoringly at the sight as you remove your hand to replace it with your mouth instead. Both of you sink into the kiss as a deeper devotion is exchanged.

“Whoever is seeking is horrible at it,” you remove yourself with a light giggle, taking a jab at whoever the seeker of the hide-and-seek game is. A game that was long forgotten by Bucky until you mentioned it.

Bucky smiles sheepishly, “About that…there's not actually a hide-and-seek game. And if there is they don't know we’re playing,” he confesses with a twinkle in his eyes. You shake your head at him, laughing in disbelief, “Bucky, then what were you and Steve whispering about?” Your curiosity is met with a boyish grin from Bucky, “I was just letting him know not to come looking for me. I wanted to get some alone time with you,” his hands find your hips again to give them a gentle squeeze.

Bucky is far from done with you yet.

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at his revelation. Of course, he’d come up with a way to get you all to himself. Can you blame him?

After a few more stolen kisses and lingering touches, you both start to compose yourselves. Adjusting your outfits and collecting your items from the ground. Thankfully, the guest room has its own bathroom where the two of you can clean up much better than in the small closet. Tousled hair, smeared makeup, and sweaty skin required a deeper attentiveness.

You both take your time in freshening up. The bathroom lighting does wonders to reveal every piece of evidence of your sexual encounter. You can now clearly see all the red marks that would eventually turn into hickeys that scattered your neck and chest. Bucky beams pleased at the markings he’s left as you scold him for making them so prominent.

Bucky doesn’t give a damn. He’d gladly make more in an instant.

By the end, all that's left is to get your heels on, which Bucky insists on helping you with. He offered to carry you for the rest of the party or even giving you his shoes, but you declined both options. You paid good money for these heels so whether you liked it or not, you were forcing yourself to wear them.

Bucky helps you up onto the expansive marble counter. Lowering down onto his knees in front of you to slide your heels back onto your feet. Nimble fingers work the straps into place, making sure they're not too tight at the ankles. When he looks up at you, a devilish grin appears on his face. That spark of desire is back in your eyes when you see how good he looks knelt between your legs. Your mind was reeling with ideas as the heat once again pranced across your skin. Bucky’s gaze bore into yours, almost as if he could read your mind. He can’t help but get turned on again.

You were in the same boat.

“You know, I have a big stats test on Monday. I could use an emergency tutoring session right about now,” his tone is laced with suggestion as his fingers trace along your ankle. You hum, “Hm? Do you? I think I could accommodate that.” Your reply gives Bucky the go to start kissing up your legs until he reaches your knees. He never breaks eye contact as he places a tender kiss on each one before standing up and giving that same attention to your mouth.

“Perfect. Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” Bucky mutters against your lips, the kiss a promise of the fun awaiting you for the rest of the night. Now that the lines were blurred beyond recognition, into something deeper, something real, you were both completely all in.

#smutty september fest 2024 #indulge with chuckles #18+ ❤️‍🔥#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky smut

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explicit-tae · 8 months ago

Note

hii 😭 im imagining jungkook as a church boy who is so attracted to the reader that he thinks he’s sinning right before the lords eyes

honestly let's talk about it because now that you said it all i can imagine is...

Repent

Adventures of Jeon Jungkook and the new girl who attends the church retreat - and who is also determined to fuck him.

Warning: church boy jungkook, very shy boy, reader has ulterior motives of course, reader obviously has a corruption kink, dry humping, slight masturbation,

The first time Jungkook has laid his eyes upon you, he noticed there was a shift.

You weren't from here, Jungkook notes. He knows everyone at this church and has yet to know who you were. It only takes a quick word from you to know that this isn't what you usually indulge in.

Y/L Y/N was your name and you've volunteered simply because of your sweet grandmother - the same one who baked such delicious treats for all the children on this trip. She had introduced the two of you and you have given him a smile that causes his heart to jolt suddenly.

Jungkook had to stay away from you and that was his only option. To think that he - a man - had to stay away from you was absurd. However, it was true. Your presence causes an unbalance in his life.

The first unbalance had been when he saw you again. Again, you only volunteered because your grandmother insisted. It was summer and the church always went on a week retreat deep in the woods to be one with nature and naturally, it was hot.

And of course, naturally, your legs were showing.

Legs and shoulders.

Was this where Jungkook's life was going? Him being attracted to any ounce of skin that he had to physically remove himself from the situation entirely.

Jungkook grew up in this church, his parents attending every and any event there was. He was a religious person who stuck to themselves - even as he reached adulthood. That didn't mean he didn't have friends that weren't apart of the church - and as soon as he began to feel things, he called them.

Jungkook's friends had laughed at him. He always hated being the youngest one in said group. Jimin had teased him the entire phone call. Namjoon was trying to keep everyone at bay, but it was no use. "You're acting like a little virgin, Kookie." was Taehyung's words. "Act like you had pussy before, please."

Jungkook decides that his friends were going to be of no help. They didn't grow in the church like he had and had to constantly think about what God thought about his actions - how perverted his mind was going whenever he saw you. Like when you gotten on your knees to pick something up and his mind instantly flashed to you on your knees for him in a less than holy way.

"It's normal to feel these things. You're a man, Kook." Namjoon had assured him over the phone. He's unsure if he'd be able to stay the entire week if he had to keep seeing you and imagining filthy ways to have you.

"You're an artist...why don't you draw what you're feeling?" Yoongi had suggested - and that idea felt ludicrous. He was feeling aroused by you and the only way to release it, by his older friends' thoughts, were to draw it out?

Jungkook had - and at the end of it all he felt like a horrible human being. But once his pencil started to sketch, he couldn't bring himself to stop. While everyone else remained asleep in their respected parts of the cabin, he had been up drawing you.

The drawing started sweet - you smiling just the way Jungkook remembered. You looking out into the distance and even one of you eating one of your grandmothers' infamous cookies.

It went downhill when his mind flashes once more of you on your knees and his hand moves quickly, sketching out the perverse thoughts into his notebook. His mind thinks about what your body would look like underneath your clothes. He draws what he imagines your pretty face would appear if contorted with pleasure, your eyes barely able to remain open...

Before Jungkook knew it, it was morning, and his room shines brightly thanks to the sun. He had slammed his sketchbook shut and hid it deep in his suitcase, a part of his ashamed of what he wasted the entirety of his night on.

"Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook stiffens when he hears your voice directly beside him. He turns slowly, as if afraid. Doe eyes stare at you for a moment and it's only when you speak again does he answer. "Y-Yes. I'm Jungkook."

Jungkook thinks he could melt when you offer him a smile. "Can I see them?"

"H-Huh?"

"I was told you draw."

The color leaves Jungkook's face and he eyes you once more, unsure on who told you that.

"The kids," you turn to the table full of children doing arts and craft. "said Kookie is the best artist here."

Jungkook hearts beat outside his chest and slowly he nods. "I-I can show you." he says, swallowing his nerves. "It's in my room. I'll go get them-"

"I can come." you smile. "I don't want to burden you and have you walk all the way there and back."

Jungkook's heart is beating outside his chest at having you in his room. On the way there he had texted his friends about it, asking for any advice on not passing out - and all he received was vulgar things to do while the two of you were alone; they were never any help.

"These are nice." you compliment, flipping through the countless drawings he had - some of scenery and landscaping, some an assortment of flowers or even fruit. You're laying on your stomach as you flip through them, your legs swaying back and forth behind you. Jungkook thinks they'd feel soft if he ever had a chance to touch them. "Do you draw people, as well?"

"Sometimes." Jungkook's cheeks flush and he wonders if maybe you knew just how much of a pervert he was - why else would you ask these questions? Maybe he should apologize before you accuse him of anything.

"Can I see them?"

There it was - you were gathering evidence. Jungkook swallows thickly, unsure of what to say or do; maybe he should start praying as God would have to be the first to grant his forgiveness. He swallows thickly going through an internal battle with himself.

"Are you scared of me?"

Jungkook glances away at your question. He wants to say that he was - that you were far too beautiful for him to be too close to. Even now he finds it quite difficult to not stare at your legs and admire how femininely woman they look in your shorts. But then he would be questioned further and how could he tell you about the perverted thoughts he has? "I-I..."

"I'm not a very...religious person. I'm sure you know." you speak, closing the sketchbook he has given you that displayed his mild artwork. "I hope you don't think I'm a bad person." you continue, now lying on your back, eyes blinking upwards at him.

"Never!" Jungkook insist, snapping his head back to you quickly. "I'm...just...awkward around new people." he admits, not wanting you to think he didn't like you because of how you lived your life.

You smile at him, eyes unreadable to Jungkook. "So, you wouldn't judge me for what I want to say?"

"Of course not." Jungkook responds meekly. "You are entitled to say whatever you feel. Only God could judge us!"

"You are right." you nod. "Before the week is over, Jungkook..." you begin, eyes staring right into his dark curious ones. You now bring yourself up to a seated position. He waits for you to continue and he swears that he could hear a pin drop in his room. The suspense was killing him. "...I'm going to get you to fuck me."

You leave Jungkook there for the suspense, giggling to yourself at how wide his eyes were and how terrified he looked. His eyes follow your figure leaving his bedroom, his heart in his ears. He's humiliated that those words caused an erection that he couldn't get to go away for the following 15 minutes.

How couldn't you want someone like Jungkook? The boy was gorgeous and had a body and the face of a man that deserved to be the biggest, conceited asshole - and it made it better that he wasn't. He was a shy individual and appeared to avoid any contact from the opposite sex over the age of 18. Though, there wasn't any woman here that appeared to catch Jungkook's eyes, and yes, you've noticed.

Jungkook's wandering eyes were the reason you chose to wear the tight shirts and shorts, regardless of the disapproving glances from the other church go-ers. You've done anything you could have to make Jungkook talk to you - and when he hadn't after the second day, you told yourself matters had to be taken into your own hands.

"So...a hot girl wants to fuck you?" Jimin asks over the phone. "But you're blowing up my phone?"

"This is serious!" Jungkook hisses over the phone. He needed outside help on how to approach this. "What if this is a joke?"

"A joke?" Taehyung scoffs. "What more does she have to say?"

"She'll have to put her pussy on his face to get his dumbass to get the point." Hoseok grumbles, tired of hearing Jungkook and his made-up problems. "I say you give her what she wants. Fuck her raw and-"

"Can you all please?" Namjoon groans loudly. "You're not being supportive."

"Thanks, hyung."

Jungkook decides to listen to Namjoon and talk to you about it - later on in the night. Now you were helping your grandmother set up the food table with the meals she's spent hours preparing that would be served only after the service.

"Kookie!" one boy says, running right into him. "Take a picture of us!"

Jungkook nods, a soft smile on his lips. He was on photography duty and had to make sure enough pictures were taken. This will get his mind off of you, surely.

Jungkook snaps countless pictures throughout the night, making sure everyone was a part of it. In the back of his mind, you remained - your admission to wanting to...sleep with him was weighing heavily.

In the camera lengths Jungkook see's you, already looking his way. Slowly, he lowers it from his face and his eyes meet yours for the first time since this morning. You and here stood across the room but even he could see that you wanted him to notice you.

Jungkook glances away from you and to two more kids running past him. He sighs, stumbling out the way and when he looks back to where you once stood, you were gone.

This is his chance, Jungkook thinks. He could be a little late to the service today. He could never focus if his mind could only think of you.

Jungkook goes towards the direction of where your room would be, the hallway long and quiet. It's vacant as everyone is in the dining hall for service soon. His nerves are kicking his ass, and he contemplates if he should turn around now.

Jungkook stops outside your room door. It's cracked and a bit of light shines behind it. He goes to knock on your door when he finds you - only you were naked, your clothes sprawled on the floor. His breath hitches as you lay on the bed, your legs wide open for him to see.

Jungkook wants to run away and forget that he has seen you in such a vulnerable state, but his body doesn't move. His eyes are unblinking and solely focused on the way your fingers begin to play with yourself.

Your breast appears so full and he imagines how nice they'd feel in the palms of his hands. Your nipples are erect due to the slight coolness of the room this evening and his mouth salivates on just how he imagines his tongue circling them until they're swollen.

Jungkook was a pervert - he was going to have to repent after this. He finds that he cannot move from his spot, watching you play with yourself. One hand grips your breast while the free one begins to enter two fingers inside of you. Your moans fill the room and it's a melodic tune that he wants to hear over and over and over again.

Jungkook's pants are tight, his erection begging for a release from the prison that was his underwear.

"Kookie?"

Jungkook nearly jumps from his skin when you say his name, eyes staring at the cracked door where he stood in the darkness. Maybe if he didn't respond you'd think that he wasn't there.

"Come in." you say, lifting yourself from laying on your bed to sitting on it. "You don't have to be afraid."

"I-I'm so sorry!" Jungkook says from the door, not moving an inch. His heart is pounding and damn it he was afraid. You were becoming to much to handle and his friends were right - he was acting like some virgin teenager that didn't experience this with a girl before.

And truly, it was only a few times with a girlfriend he had that didn't work out. Maybe he should have listened to his friends and not propose to her at their young age; but what were they expecting a religious person like Jungkook to do?

You were going to have to initiate everything, you note. But that's okay - you loved the shy ones like Jungkook. You could only imagine the way he'll whimper beneath you.

You swing the door open, just as naked as before. Jungkook is frozen and his breathing increases. He tears his eyes away from you, dark cheeks. "P-Please don't hate me."

"You're so silly." you laugh. "Why would I hate you?"

Jungkook feels ready to explode when you wrap your arms around his neck. Your chest is against his and you're so close that he can smell a vanilla scent on your skin - he has a good nose, and he just certain it's the warm vanilla collection.

You're teasing him, your tongue poking out from your lips to lick at his neck. "Do you want me to stop?" you asks him - you weren't going to do anything to the man while he was crying the entire time.

"It's...this is fine." Jungkook murmurs meekly.

"You don't sound sure." you tease. "Do you not like me?"

"I-I do!" Jungkook is quick to say. "I just don't want to force you into anything."

You mentally sigh - he wasn't helping you not want him. You want to coo at how cute Jungkook was. To think he didn't want to force you into anything after you've gone this far.

"We have five days left of this trip." you murmur, tongue against his neck. It circles the nape of it. "You aren't going to keep me waiting, right? That wouldn't be nice."

Jungkook whimpers when he feels your teeth biting his neck and it does nothing but make you want to ruin the man further.

"I want you to take some pictures of me." you tell Jungkook, leaning back to look into his eyes. "Some pictures that are for...your eyes only."

Jungkook gulps, his cock jumps in his pants. "O-Okay." is all he could muster up to say.

You remove your arms from his neck and nod to the camera around his neck. "Then start." you tell him.

Jungkook's hands are trembling when he does as you ask him to. He snaps several pictures of your naked body, you are posing in such provocative positions that he's unsure if this is real or a sick, perverted dream of his.

"Now," you clap your hands. "I want to take some pictures of me in a different P.O.V."

Jungkook clenches the camera in his hands. "I-"

You pull him onto the bed, caging him between your things. Your pussy is right against his clothed erection, and he yelps when he feels you sit directly on top of him. "Take them."

Jungkook knows these pictures were going to be blurry. His palms are sweaty as he snaps a few more pictures of you directly on top of him. The sight is forever going to be drawn into his mind - naked body on top of his, breast on fully display as you look down on him with such a lustful look in your eyes.

"I-I can't get the right pictures if...if you keep moving." Jungkook clenches the camera in his hands. You were grinding against him and through the lenses he watches the way your pussy humps against him.

"Sorry," you murmur. "you just feel good."

Jungkook drops the camera at your words, and you could only snort, but you don't stop your grinding. Your eyes force his to watch you, hands clenching into his shoulders as you beginning to add pressure and speed to your humping. "I can't feel it enough."

Jungkook was going to die here - he's sure of it. One hand removes itself from his shoulder and you slightly lift yourself up so you could yank down his pants. You weren't going to stop there and before you know it, Jungkook's underwear's is yanked just as fast.

"I-I-"

Jungkook winces when he feels you sit directly onto him, your folds against the shaft of his cock. You're wet and warm - he's never felt anything without a condom on.

Your hips begin to buckle, grinding against his shaft. Jungkook's cheeks are bright red with embarrassment and his hands hover above your hips, afraid to touch you. "You're acting like you never touched a woman before."

Jungkook swallows, resting his hands onto your grinding hips. "N-Not one like you." he admits - someone so bold and beautiful who knew exactly what she wanted.

You giggle, then moan. Your hips circle around Jungkook's cock and wished that something so beautiful was inside of you - but you were patient enough to wait. You didn't want to overwhelm the boy more than you were already.

"Don't be afraid to touch me, Kookie." your mouth is so close to his that he wants to connect your lips. He could feel your breath against his face, tickling him as you moan.

Jungkook's hand roam your body, his palm vibrating with anticipation. He grips on the flesh of your ass, whimpering at how soft it was all the while you grinded against him. He roams them up past your hips and towards you back to them cast them down your sides to grip your breast.

"You're very beautiful..." Jungkook whimpers once more, body hot with pleasure. "...so so beautiful."

Jungkook's embarrassed that he can feel himself about to cum, but that was alright because you were determined to cum along with him. You take the initiative to connect your lips to Jungkook's in a needy kiss, your hips buckling with such need.

Humping usually wasn't what you settled for - but Jungkook was just too hot (and shy) to not tease and mess with. You're cumming all over him, creaming against his cock that he cannot help but do the same, hot cum falling all over his abdomen like a hormonal pathetic teenager.

"I can't wait to feel your cum in me." you murmur against his lips and Jungkook swears that alone could make him hard again.

PART 2 COMING SOON

Preview

“I’m sure we can be besties.” you wink at him, an action Jungkook finds cute. “That does other things.”

You connect the gap between you and Jungkook, pressing your glossed lips against his. Your lips are sticky but sweet, tasting like blueberries.

Your hands are soft onto his cheeks, ensuring he doesn’t push himself away - and he doesn’t plan on it.

Jungkook is unsure where he puts his own hands and this allows you to help him. Your left hand removes from his check to grasp his wrist and place it onto your hips. You tap it slightly, giving him full access to whatever he wants to feel.

Jungkook is hesitant, but he follows your lead. His hands grip onto your hips, moaning against your soft lips.

The soft kisses soon turn to a makeout session, your delicate hands roaming Jungkook’s broad chest.

Jungkook’s hands roam up your sides and around your back, wanting to feel more of you. Even now as the two of you were fully clothed and he technically saw you naked, the crave he has for you only grows higher and higher.

You pull yourself away from Jungkook, snorting when you notice his plush lips are full of gloss.

“You said you’ve done things with other girls?”

Jungkook begins to nod. He was growing anxious at your question. He hasn’t done a lot - especially not with more than one girl.

“Hm.” you peck his lips gently. “What have they done to pleasure you?”

Taking a short breath, Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Regular…stuff…?”

Once more, Jungkook is so cute to you. Knowing him, he hasn’t experienced foreplay. You recall hearing some religious people only experience sex to procreate and you truly hoped that was a lie.

“Hm…” you bat your eyelashes at him. “...I’ll show you regular stuff with me.”

Jungkook nodded his head, only a bit embarrassed how eager he was to see it.

You decide to take things slow - for now. You peck his lips, then his cheek, down his jaw. You get to his neck, slightly inhaling the scent of his cologne. It’s faint and smells a bit earthy; a scent that does scream Jungkook. It’s subtle.

“You’re hard.” you state at the nape of his neck.

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak; to apologize for his behavior as the two of you were just supposed to be kissing, surely. “S-Sorry-”

“That’s a good thing! I need you to be aroused, Kookie.” you grin, pulling yourself away from him to bat your eyelashes once more. “It’s easier to suck your cock this way.”

Jungkook nearly explodes at your lewd words.

#explicit-tae #church boy jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #bts smut #bangtan smut #btswritingcafe #repent #bangtanwriters net #bts #shy jungkook

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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 10 months ago

Note

yooooo!!! you’re my favorite ethan winters artist i just wanna say that first and foremost, thank you for the wholesome content of my comfort character and father figure 🥹🫶

i’m really curious bc i feel like i see a lot of people against mithan (not me personally, i’m p neutral on them!) but i’m curious to know all your thoughts on them! thoughts on their canon relationship, their fanon portrayal, the backlash against them/mia accusations, and your headcanons? i’m just really interested!!! hopefully that’s not weird :”)

have a good day!! sparkle on!!! ✨💖

i heart mithan... i think that they can be so cute...

i personally hc them t4t and i like to think that the dated in highschool before they both had fully transitioned

mia likes to bake and ethan likes to scrap book and he always likes to take pictures of mias cakes/ baked goods and has a album for them 😭

i am a multishipper so i draw a lot of ethan ships so my girl is left out sometimes and im sorry mia 😔

i actually really like their relationship, its a really complex dynamic that i like to talk about with my friends

i think the issue is that when talking about mithan or mia in general, theres just SO MUCH misinformation that its honestly a pain the butt to talk about

people still think that she was responsible for the creation of eveline, people still think that she experimented on eveline, people still use examples of her attacking ethan as if she did it on her own will instead of being mind controlled

in reality she was just someone who oversaw the transportation of evie. im not excusing her or anything because obviously she knew what she was doing, but people really try to accuse her of doing something she didnt and it bothers me alot lol

the problem with the fandom is that people either try to water her down to girlboss who did nothing wrong and fail to acknowledge the complexity/ moral grayness of her character and the other side is misogynists 😭😭😭😭

its hard to talk about her without people either going "stop trying to villainize her and make her look bad!" or people ACTUALLY villainizing her and acting like heisenberg would have treated him better 😭😭

mithan is such a sad relationship because they loved each other so much and that ended up being the reason their relationship fell apart (sort of... its not like the broke up... ethan kinda just straight up died)

i get a lot a trouble for saying this, but mia is a selfish person.

its not a bad thing! well i mean it is but it doesnt make her some evil witch who is somehow worse than the guy how made a werewolf american ninja warrior. its just a major character flaw she has! which is good! mia being a flawed person who makes mistakes and morally gray decisions make her a more interesting person!

she is selfish in the way that she wants to keep her family with her no matter the cost. even if it means lying to ethan about her job so that he wont think different of her. here is a interrogation from the re7 DLC, which is easy to miss!

she isnt necessarily trying to apologize for the things she has done, she is more of a, "u wont need to forgive me in the first place if we just forget it all and move on"

she doesn't try to redeem herself for what she has done, she tries to move on and return to the normal life that she wants so bad. which is fine! everyone copes a different way and she has to right to move on from her trauma. the problem that lies in this is that she has a shared trauma with ethan who still has no idea what went on in dulvey and still effects him till the present (he is mold! this is a important thing to know! most people would want to know if they were a walking corpse)

she played a direct part in what happened in dulvey, and im not referring to the email, she did not send that. she never wanted ethan to come in the first place. she tried her best to send a video to him, begging him to forget about her because she wanted to protect him, BUT it didnt send.

he got involved because she was involved. its honestly a series of really really unfortunate events.

THOUGH! she did know what she was getting into. im tired of seeing the narrative that mia was innocent and didnt know what was going on or was simply a bystander. she knew what she was doing, she knew eveline was a bioweapon, she knew eveline was a child. she used a MACHINE GUN! she knows how to use weapons and was obviously trained for it.

she tried her best to keep everybody out of the mess, ex: warning the bakers not to take them in, warning ethan not to find her, sacrificing herself for ethan in the later half of re7

but again, those are the consequences of HER actions

her consequences just happen to get really big and end up hitting ethan on the head like a metal sheet 😭

their relationship is really so interesting, it makes me really sad to think about sometimes 😭they both went through something that nobody else would ever understand, in the end they really only have each other. they get moved to an entire different country and the dulvey incident gets covered up with a "gas leak"

its really tragic because their marriage definitely had some flaws and bumps. and i know im repeating myself but its because people always take this in the worst way possible but just because i say their relationship was rocky doesnt mean im saying they dont love each other!!! thats the entire basis of mias character!! saying she doesnt love ethan would destroy her entire character!

you can see in the re8 DLC how fondly ethan talks about mia! he loves her so much, though im not sure if his comments in the DLC are him narrating current (post re8) or his thoughts before everything went down and he died (pre re8)

everything mia did was because she LOVED ethan. she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, she is not a cruel person. she hides the truth of her job from ethan pre re7 because she loves him and doesnt want her job to drive them apart. she CONTINUES to refuse to tell ethan the truth post re7 because she wants to move on a live a happy normal life with him and knows something like her being directly associated with the connections would probably cause (more) problems. she refuses to tell ethan that he is mold because again, hard to live a happy marriage with your husband after you tell him hes a bioweapon.

obviously i dont think it was right that she did this, thats what makes her selfish! she did it for herself! she did it for her family! she thought it would work out, she thought that they could move on and be happy together.

the issue is that ethan didnt want to forget. he wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know the part mia played, he wanted answers! which is reasonable! he knows to some extent that mia was partially responsible for his involvement and he was always suspcious that mia was lying to him about her job which is implied when mia says "you were right, i did lie to you"

she doesnt learn, she doesnt stop lying, her lies get bigger and worse and it sucks yeah but it makes her so interesting!!! she keeps doing stupid things under the idea that this is whats best for her and her family, that if she hides this everything will work out and it will be for the better but its not!

just because telling your husband hes dead and a bioweapon is a hard subject to bring up doesnt mean you DONT bring it up. people shouldnt use that as a reason to excuse mia 😭, its a very bad excuse and honestly highlights how horrible their communication skills were. you cant just not tell your husband that he is actually infected with the mold and not tell him for the tree years between post re7 and pre re8.

im not saying these things to put mia down, or try and villanize her. these are all just actual things her character does! she isnt evil, but she isnt a knight in shining armor either. we need to be able to have talks about complex characters without crying everytime someone points out a flaw. characters have flaws! and mia just happens to have a lot of them!

im not mad at her, i dont dislike her because i think this way of her. shes a fictional character! you can like characters that are morally gray, or villains that drink blood and make corpse soldiers. they are fictional! pointing out the flaws of a character does not mean i dont like them.

i wouldnt call her "the real villain of re8" but i wouldnt treat her like a damsel in distress either. she is a competent person, she knows what shes doing, she has her reasons for doing them. she made bad descions with good intentions behind them! they can coexist and we should let them!

i like mithan! its a complex relationship because they both love each other so much but hurt each other in the process

talking about them is just a pain in the butt because talking about mia is a pain in the butt lol

i really hate how she keeps getting sidelined, its super frustrating to see mia get put in a cage in every game 😭

its even more frustrating that mia straight up just disappears???? in the shadows of rose DLC... like she just stops taking care of rose and theres nothing said about it. no reason or explanation. i dont think mia would ever ditch rosemary because she didnt care about her, but we probably will never know because capcom sucks at writing and they probably forgot the mia ever even existed.

all in all, i think the fandom is really just full of misinformation which make people either think mia is some horrible evil person, or its full of people who think that saying mia messed up is the equivalent of comparing her to wesker lol.

i really love mia, shes a incredibly fun and complex character, its just hard to enjoy her sometimes with the people in the fandom haha.

also ive got no idea what u meant by "the backlash against them/mia accusations" so sorry if i didnt answer that!

thank u for the ask! sorry for the long response!

#mia winters #resident evil #ethan winters #mithan

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ozzgin · 7 months ago

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Ngl, I'd be in love with daitou's tattoos and would want to see All Of Them. They're so interesting! And I wanna touch em. Can I be 🦇 anon, if you don't have one? -🦇

Yes! I actually had this tattoo-related piece of lore for the longest time now, but I was never sure how to insert it into the story. 😭 It’s finally my chance to introduce you to tebori, the traditional Japanese art of tattoos.

You hand Daitou another tissue.

“How did you even catch a cold in the midst of summer?” you ask, somewhat incredulous.

The yakuza man lets out another hearty sneeze.

“I guess I stood in the rain for too long, heh.”

A raspy chuckle escapes his mouth. Indeed, last night had been storming and he'd been tasked to discard the bodies from a recent gang fight. Less hassle with the police that way.

Obviously, he can’t tell you that, especially since Kazuya gave him a proper scolding last time he was too generous with the gory details. “What’s the matter with you? Why don’t you just hand her a bone saw and ask her to hold the trash bags, too? Fuck’s sake…”

“Don’t worry too much about me, miss (Y/N). I’ve had worse.” He smiles and turns slightly, pointing behind with his thumb. “After my back piece, I thought I was going to die!”

You raise your eyebrows.

“The tattoo? How would that make you sick?”

“I’ve had all my stuff done the old-fashioned way. Everyone in our Family has been going to the same artist for longer than I've been around."

Daitou raises his hands and gestures the act.

"You use a thin bamboo tool with a needle at one end. Like woodblock carving, y'know? One swift move. Takes a lot of skill, 'specially for linework. It's actually less painful this way, although it's much slower compared to a machine.

Now here's the thing, back in the day pigments were made in a way that caused immune reactions from the body. So for a day or two after your tattoo, you'd have high fever, lethargy, stuff like that. They've improved the formula since, or so I hear. Our old man refuses to switch. 'What? Ya scared of a little heat? Yakuza tattoos aren't for everyone, go back home if you can't handle it, punk!', he likes to say. It's like a manly thing for him, y'know.

My back tattoo, that one took the longest. After the final session, I had the worst fever of my life. Couldn't get out of bed for days!"

He ponders for a moment and grins.

"What's so funny?"

"Would've been nice to know you back then, miss. Just havin' you here makes me feel better already, hehe."

[More yakuza]

#yandere yakuza #yandere x reader #yakuza x reader #daitou #yandere boyfriend #🦇 anon has been added to the list

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meanbossart · 4 months ago

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do you have any advice for drawing big muscular characters, and also lean muscled characters? im very experienced drawing fat people via using myself and friends as refs, so i have many types of large bodies down, and i draw skinny people too sometimes, but ive never really been able to wrap my head around muscle... and you draw it so well, its inspiring me to try, but i dont know where to start 😭

This might seem like a lazy response, but the answer here is to just... Draw more muscular bodies with real-life and clinical anatomical reference at hand. Simply doing life-drawing from model pictures would be a great start, of course, but I think it's infinitely more helpful to also consult anatomical models/muscle écorchés alongside them so that you know WHAT it is that you're drawing. With skin and fat over it, muscle might just end up looking like a random assortment of creases and lines you can't make sense of, but if you can garner an understanding of what's actually going on underneath all that, it's going to help you out a ton with drawing it from memory or stylizing it to your liking.

I have this link saved on my browser and I look at it a lot. Just please remember - muscle moves. The downfall of a lot of artists trying to draw buff characters is in forgetting that. I suggest looking at either athletic footage, work out videos, or... Uh... Oh boy I seem to have forgotten where else on the internet you can see a lot of beefy guys getting into funny poses half-naked. Anyways, pick your poison to see how that stuff looks in action to start wrapping your head around it, draw some stills from it, etc!

#ask #advice

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saintslewis · 1 year ago

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc

— trope: fake/arranged marriage

— summary: the Browns and the Hamiltons have been neighbours for many years, Nadia and their oldest son, Lewis, not being as close as the families had hoped they would be. Years later, everyone drifts apart into different neighbourhoods, some others becoming one of the best drivers to ever grace the sport of Formula One however being a man of his stature, fame came along with it and so did the scandals.

can a fake marriage to a complete stranger help keep his image alive? let’s find out!

✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ———————— let’s meet the lovely couple!

👩🏽‍🏫 —— nadia brown!

“the coolest teacher ever”

⸰ֺ⭑ - a south african native who moved to stevenage with her mom when she was 8 and gosh, her character development is one for the books. from being the shy one for all of her school years, university changed everything and made her the social butterfly that you will all grow to love soon. fav colour is pink. fav artist is beyoncé. she teaches history and knows jack shit about f1 except that the cool guy that her parents support used to be their neighbour. absolutely loves the moon and is a part time stylist. will fight for you even she met you a second ago.

🏎️ —— lewis hamilton!

“the goat.”

⸰ֺ⭑ - a literal superstar. the stevenage driver who i would describe as the coolest person ever and many would agree. an adrenaline junky with a heart of gold and filled with positivity (and sass but you didn’t hear it from me). thee fashionista and he knows he’s fine, he just does. father to roscoe. fav colour is purple. loves discussing space and its beauty. did i mention he’s the coolest guy ever? super supportive of everyone around him and he’s knighted. ladies and gents, mr mercedes!

✧༚ ˎˊ˗ info abt renaissance!

˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, a bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, a talk of ad21, south african slang, slight hints of smut (18+ MDNI), not much of a slow burn lol, lots and lots of brand names, slight themes of sugar daddy! lewis at some point lol (think of it as him spoiling her!)

˖ ࣪⭑ - inspo: this idea just spawned into my head as well as a few of my wip’s mushed together to make this masterpiece. i absolutely love beyonce so using RENAISSANCE for a project so special to me just make wanna do a couple cartwheels. i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did making this!

˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: omg hi everybody 🤭. first oc on tumblr woohoo! not a lot of the song lyrics will relate to the plot of the chapter but more so the beat of the song or the vibe? hope that makes sense lol. i hope you guys like the humour i’m gonna add in here. there isn’t a schedule for this yet but hopefully i’ll be more organised in the future. let’s get this party started!

˖ ࣪⭑ - taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz @folkloresthings @flowerchild-96 @userlando (i read your blogs as if it’s my morning paper so i hope you like this 😭) @non-stop-imagines @royallyprincesslilly . let me know if you wanna be tagged in this or future fics!

˖ ࣪⭑ - dividers by @cafekitsune 🫶🏽

˖ ࣪⭑ - pictures from pinterest and twitter

˖ ࣪⭑ - nadia faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 !

1. I’M THAT GIRL

- the first meeting.

2. COZY

- imagine having dinner with your family then they announce that you’re getting married? you better get cozy for this one!

3. ALIEN SUPERSTAR

- first “date”. gotta show the world the newest married couple!

4. CUFF IT

- didn’t Lewis say he was a professional dancer? well now he is 🕺🏽

5. ENERGY

- first day in the paddock, let’s gaurrr

6. BREAK MY SOUL

- ooohhhhh, the school’s calling for a meeting with Nadia 😟

7. CHURCH GIRL

- party time activated ‼️

8. PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA

- a rainy afternoon in the kitchen with the both of them dancing? literally screaming!

9. VIRGO’S GROOVE

- catching feelings there?

10. MOVE

- a visit to Nadia’s work place isn’t so bad, right? …right?

11. HEATED

- time to let the world know who exactly Nadia is and why to not mess with her or her husband. period.

12. THIQUE

- party time pt 2?

13. ALL UP IN YOUR MIND

- how about a little vacation? :D

14. AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM

- coming soon!

15. PURE/HONEY

- coming soon!

16. SUMMER RENAISSANCE

- coming soon!

status: ongoing

saintslewis 🫶🏽

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #x black reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x oc #fake marriage au #☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen

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stargirl-writes · 1 year ago

Text

promises

pairing : f! reader x rots! anakin skywalker

word count : 1k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

ever since anakin had killed dooku, your anxiety has never settled. for you were watching him slowly lose himself in the war. and you lie late at night lost in the idea that maybe, being with you didn't make any difference at all. so, you watched him sleep, at peace, stealing what little time you could have with him.

tags : angst, comfort, love, flangst (?)

warnings : pretty much none, just angsty stuff to cry to hehe

notes : hello beautiful people! i finished the film past lives and there's this one line that just shattered me 😭 so i just wanna share this little imagine before i go to sleep :) hope ya like it 🪽🩷

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated ! (and fuels me hehe)

Anakin Skywalker is your secret.

Your beautiful little secret.

Here wrapped in these sheets, where everything softens. Hushed. Kissed by the gentle rays of the moonlight.

You have been awake for some time now. But you didn't dare move. Anakin was still deep in his dreams exhausted from the day before. Despite his slumber, his arms wrap around you protectively.

You placed your head on his chest, following his breathing and listening to the soft thuds of his heart.

Your gaze lands on his peaceful expression.

How can someone look so beautifu?

You thought, he looked like the people in the paintings. Like how an artist would imagine a being with the perfect proportions. And he'd move as if each stroke is intended with grace.

The force made him. You'd sometimes catch yourself lost in his eyes, staring, studying the way it'd crease at the ends when he smiles. Is he even human? You'd think to yourself. He is the galaxy made flesh. That has to account for his prettiness, you think.

You take a deep breath; the scales of the ongoing war are further tipped to the Republic's advantage after Anakin had killed Dooku.

It was so close. Even the air itself has shifted. You can feel it, the end. You can almost visualize it.

Maybe then, things will change...

Selfishly, you feel your heart ache by the little amount of time you could share with Anakin. You can't help it, you have always belonged to him, and for that, you have suffered.

He is the Jedi Order's first. Before you can call him yours. You're not even sure if he is his own's anymore. Because you've watched how this war takes so much of him.

Be smarter, Be more cunning, Be more ruthless. Offer yourself again and again and again.

There's so little of him that remains.

You blinked, sighing once more. You reminded yourself that you are here, tangled in his embrace. It was enough to know that here he lies, with you.

Anakin shifts and you hold your breath. You begged the Gods to not wake him, not yet, let me have him, just for now.

Anakin mutters something. Huttese, the language he grew up on. Your eyebrows furrowed, you never really got to understanding the language even after studying it.

His heart paces under your touch. You kept your gaze on his face, deciding whether you should wake him up or have him rest.

He has been having so many nightmares lately...

His eyes abruptly open and you lent your weight on your elbow to better survey him.

"It's alright, Ani, it was just a dream" You spoke softly, careful not to startle him.

Anakin's wide-eye terror softens at the sight of you, his chest heaves trying to catch his breath.

"It's alright" You coo once more, placing a kiss on his forehead.

He presses his eyes close, and his eyes are intent in yours as he follows your breathing.

You can't help but feel a sting in your heart. He is reaching his limit, and it worries you that whenever he's away, he is close to blurring the lines and crossing it.

Anakin presses his face to your clavicle, and your hands find a way to tangle in his hair. Noticing his silence, you spoke soothingly "What's on your mind, Ani?"

Anakin's breath felt warm against your neck. You used to be able to read Anakin's thoughts. Like he'd write it down in words on pages of a novel for you to be able to understand him. But now, he's been more distant, more incoherent, and you feel as though you have to decipher every little thing that he allows you to see.

"mmm—just tired" Anakin's voice was gravelly and of resignation.

Stop turning me away. You wanted to say. But you already know that the more you try to push him, the further he'll hide away.

You take a deep breath, wishing you could take away some of the weight off his shoulders. "You know you speak in Huttese when you're asleep"

"I do?" Anakin tilts his chin, his eyes are still half-asleep.

"Yeah, I could never understand it though" You managed a wan smile.

"That's probably good for you, Huttese is a very coarse language" He claims.

"Still—" You held back your tongue, deciding it would only drive him away if you asked about his dream.

"I fear that you dream in a language I can't understand"

The silence hung. Anakin must be asleep.

Your gaze moved faraway— deep in contemplation. Wondering if you being in his life made any difference at all.

"You know, I only ever feel like myself when I'm with you, right?" Anakin speaks, voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed scarlet, realizing your force signature may have revealed your anxieties.

"I know"

Anakin shifts his head, eyes latched on to you like he was memorizing every detail of your face.

"Ani" you began, "If there's a life after it all, will you come with me?"

Anakin's eyebrows flashed at the suddenness of your question.

"What do you mean?" He places his hand on the small of your back, tracing small circles.

"Well, I'm only wondering, will you come with me, even then?"

Anakin's expression softens, recognizing your fears. You were losing him, slowly, bit by bit. And if you're bound to him in this life, why not in the other?

When you can finally feel like you're not constantly the only one holding on.

He doesn't answer for a while, you feel the need to ramble, to withdraw.

It was silly of you to ask, he is free to choose whatever life he wants to live after it all, besides, if he decides to want to rest, you won't take that away from him, if he ever wants to—

"I'll go wherever you go" he declares, halting the thoughts plaguing your mind.

His eyes drift away from yours "I can't... I know what my duty requires of me and I'm sorry if I haven't been here for you."

"But, I'll love you in a time that isn't stolen" he promises, tucking your hair away from your face.

You felt tears glistening in your eyes. You smiled, leaning in to tenderly kiss Anakin.

The hope of it all would be enough to keep you going.

Just a little while longer.

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aliceintheworld · 10 days ago

Text

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: (omg, its a mess) smut, loss of virginity, use of vibrator, unprotected sex (don't do this), orgasms, conversation about sex, toxic relationship, betrayal, angst, Jungkook's mom finds out everything, Jungkook is an idiot, sorry 😭😭

A/N: As I promisse, here is the second chapter of today. I deserve VOTES guys, please.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 9

He takes my hand and pulls me before I can respond to him. And what am I going to say? I follow him instinctively, getting on the motorcycle and enjoying a bit of the city full of lights, now that the sky is all dark. I recognize his building as we get closer, and the gate opens as soon as we stop in front of it. My nervousness intensifies because I don’t know what to expect from this night. I know Jungkook wouldn’t force me into anything, and that if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have to touch myself in front of him. I am aware of all this. The problem is I want that, and I don’t know how long I’m going to deny myself the peak of our intimacies. Would I have the courage to give him my virginity? To give myself to him, even knowing there would be no turning back? I would. Realizing this is like a cold shower. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do with Jungkook. I would risk everything, without thinking twice.

I get off the motorcycle and grip the long sleeve of my t-shirt tightly, venting the tumultuous feelings inside me. Flashes of us together on his bed start appearing in my head, and a mix of excitement and fear fills my mind. He remains silent the entire time, and I wish I had the power to read his mind and understand what he’s thinking. Our eyes meet in the elevator's reflection, and he smiles slightly, leaving me even more stunned. My legs almost give out when we exit the small cubicle and step into his apartment.

Everything is the same, just like when I came a while ago. The living room is tidy and the kitchen clean, just like before. I take a few steps into the room, letting out a long, noisy sigh before taking off my shoes.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Jungkook asks from behind me. He removes his leather jacket, revealing the new tattoo wrapped in plastic. He doesn’t seem to feel any pain though, as he doesn’t show any signs of discomfort.

“I’m fine.” I smile awkwardly. He must have noticed my obvious doubt.

“You know you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, right?”

“I know.” I reply, shrugging. “The problem is different.”

“And what would that be?”

“That I want to do everything.” I’m honest. His eyes widen in surprise, and he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

“You always surprise me, you know? Just when I think I’ve finally understood the way you think, you come and show me that, in fact, I don’t know anything.”

“I don’t even understand myself, Jungkook.”

“Do what you want to do. You know my opinion. You know I don’t want you to hold back just because you think your mom would be disappointed.”

“I want to do what I want, but I’m afraid of the consequences of my actions. My mom has nothing to do with this, this time.” I say. He shakes his head in agreement. I remain silent for a few seconds before looking at the ceiling, frustrated with the situation. “I have a proposal to make to you. It’s crazy, but I want things to be like this between us.”

“I’m listening.” He tosses his hair back, watching me.

“Let’s just go with the flow of things. When we’re together, I want things to happen naturally. I don’t want to tell you how far we can go, because I don’t even know myself.”

“That’s how things will be, then.” He smiles, coming closer. He touches my hair and moves a strand away from my eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I reply. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and I want to reciprocate, to say he’s handsome too, but I can’t.

“Come with me.”

He calls me, and I follow him down the hallway. I know very well what he wants with me in his room. He turns on the lights and takes off his shirt, tousling his hair. There’s a palpable tension between us that only grows as he removes the top piece of his clothing, and I realize that, no matter what happens tonight, this won’t end. I bite my lip, watching how Jungkook moves carefree and goes to the closet without saying a word. When he comes back, there’s something in his fingers that I can’t identify. He gets closer, so much that I have to lift my head to look into his eyes. I see a smile on his face that doesn’t fade, even with my obvious confusion.

“Remember I told you about a surprise last night, in your room?” I take a few seconds to recall, nodding my head in agreement with his words. “This is the surprise.”

He raises his hand and shows me a device that I can’t quite tell what it is, even up close. It’s the size and shape of a lipstick, maybe a bit bigger, a bright shocking pink in the middle of his palm. He laughs as he presses a nearly imperceptible button on top, and the thing vibrates, so intensely that I hear a buzzing in his strong fingers. I flinch, now knowing exactly what it is.

“I-Is this some kind of erotic toy?” I choke on my own saliva, my heart racing. My hand trembling and sweating with anticipation.

“It’s an erotic toy.” He affirms. “I use some things on myself, when I’m alone.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I tell him, watching the small, yet powerful device. I’m curious, not taking my eyes off it for even a second. “What do you use when you're alone?”

“I use some oils on my cock that heat up and cool down. Sometimes with flavor and even scent.” he explains, explicit with his words. I feel embarrassed but try not to show it. “It makes me more sensitive, so it feels really good.”

“Do you want me to use this?”

“Only if you want to.” He shrugs, as if it’s simple. “Want to hold it? Feeling the vibrations in your hand might help you decide.”

I nod in agreement, taking the small silicone-coated device. It pulses in my palm, strong and fast. I turn red but horny, just imagining this inside me. Even wetter when I imagine Jungkook pleasuring himself, circling his fingers around his cock. My breath becomes shaky as I know he’s watching me closely, waiting for my response.

“Why is it pink?” I ask, a curiosity that suddenly arises.

“I like the color on your skin.” He smirks. I return the smile, finding it amusing. There wouldn’t be another reason if it weren’t for that. Jungkook doesn’t wear pink, never. Always in black and dark colors. I don’t say anything else. “Do you want to try the vibrator?”

“I do.”

“Are you going to do what I say?” He questions. There’s something in his tone that confirms to me that he knows that yes, I will do what he wants. I nod silently.

“Show me how to use this. I have to fulfill our bet.” I respond, with courage. Jungkook clenches his jaw and runs his tongue on the inside of his cheek. For a moment, he looks at me seriously, as if a thought has arisen in his head and throws him off balance.

“Okay. Take off your clothes. Everything.” He commands, in a husky voice.

To say I’m calm would be a lie, but I obey his command, trying to show firmness in my actions. I pull my shirt up and take it off, feeling his eyes on my body. I’m wearing a green demi-cup bra that makes my breasts perkier and curvier, but it goes away as quickly as the other piece, falling to the floor. I unbutton my skirt, which falls in a circle of fabric at my feet. I muster the courage to face Jungkook, but the tremors return when he doesn’t smile; the wildness in his gaze. Just the way he looks at me every time he sees me naked.

“I said to take everything off.” He comments in a whisper, almost a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. I nod shyly, and use my thumb on my cotton panties, pulling them down. The cold air of the room hits my intimacy, and only then do I realize how wet I am, soaked and pulsing. I’m nervous, but incredibly excited.

“What do I do now?”

“Lie on the bed.” He half-orders, half-instructs. I do as he says, climbing onto the mattress and hooking my fingers in the sheets. I lean my back against the bed and completely relax my head on the pillow. “Open your legs for me.”

“Kiss me first.” I weakly and shyly request. He gives a little smile, relieving a bit of my tension, and leans his body over mine, bringing his mouth close to mine.

I kiss him intensely. I take everything from his mouth, plunging my tongue and sucking his, using my lips and moaning during the kiss. I’m so hot that I pull his hair, and he falls over me, supporting his body on his elbow and touching my breasts with his chest. Jungkook suddenly pulls away from me. I try to return the caresses, but he’s gone as quickly as he approached.

“Please!” I moan, trying to reach his head, but he stops me and kisses me just once more.

“Open your legs. I want to see you touching yourself.” He says seriously. I shake my head knowing that if I want to be touched by him, I have to fulfill the challenge first.

I expose my entrance as I slowly open my legs. I gasp at the sensitivity of the cold air touching my slit. I look at my pussy, embarrassed that the light of the room is illuminating my body completely. However, Jungkook makes me feel confident. The way he looks at me only confirms how much he likes what’s in front of him. He rests one hand on my knee and moves closer between my thighs, watching me without shame, completely exposed.

“You’re beautiful.” He caresses my knee. “Spread your small lips, I want to see your little hole better.”

I feel even more turned on by the way he asks, and in a surge of impulse, I obey his command. My hand moves down my body to my intimacy, spreading my wetness with my fingers before opening my vulva and exposing my entrance. One of my fingers accidentally brushes against my swollen clitoris, and I whimper, unable to help it. I’m very sensitive and aroused, something I’ve never been able to feel alone.

“Touch your clit, very gently. It’s all red and swollen. I know you need it.” Jungkook bites his lips and caresses my leg, as if he finally feels pity for me. I nod my head, even knowing that he’s completely focused on another part of my body. With my other free hand, I touch my clitoris, this time with more pressure and intention. I moan, throwing my head back. I move my middle finger up and down, watching as more lubrication drips from my hole. I wet my finger and return to the sensitive button of my pleasure, circling and surrounding it delicately.

“So good…” I whisper, unable to help it. My eyes roll back on their own, and sweat starts forming on my forehead. My whole body trembles; my muscles tense from the delight I’m giving myself.

“Are you enjoying it?” He asks. I nod yes, unable to speak. I keep playing with my pussy, using my fingers in circles, feeling my lubrification coming out and dripping down my slit. “Use the vibrator inside you. I want to see it going in and out of your little tight hole.”

I just agree, unable to open my eyes. I hear the unmistakable sound of the device turning on, and almost unconsciously, my hand moves faster. I feel my nipples aching and heavy, and to relieve my sensitive breasts a little, I pull the nipple hard, using my thumb and index finger. I sigh and moan, and another moan, Jungkook’s name, escapes my mouth.

“Y/N, look at me.” Jungkook asks, in a growl. His pants are slightly down between his thighs, revealing his gray underwear covering his hard member underneath the garment. I bite my lips, watching his body provide me even more pleasure. I moan softly, looking into his eyes. “Use the toy inside your cunt, you’ll like it.”

“O-ok.” I choke, my voice lacking strength. I take the device from his hands, releasing my breasts, and turn my eyes to my gaping, soaked vagina, clenching with desire. I gently press the vibrations against my clitoris, and startled, I drop the toy, extremely sensitive.

“Go easy, baby.” He instructs, quietly. His thumb and index finger approach my body as he pulls my nipple hard, tightly, replacing my hand. I sigh and agree, taking the fallen vibrator on the bed and pressing it once again against my button. This time, the sensation is different and surreal. A high-pitched scream escapes my throat, and my hips move and rise unconsciously in response to the tremors.

Without being able to wait another second, I shove the device inside me, massaging my creamy walls with the intense vibrations. I grit my teeth trying to control my legs from closing, and thrust the toy in and out, finding the most sensitive spot inside my pussy; the one only Jungkook knew. My pleasure intensifies when I look forward and find him stroking himself, following my rhythm with his hands and rubbing his own cock. The sloppy impact noise fills the room, and the walls of my vulva suck the vibrator as my hole pulses and clench once more.

"I'm going to cum!" I confess, closing my eyes. Jungkook doesn't stop me, on the contrary, he brings his mouth closer to my breast and sucks my nipple, using his teeth hard and digging them into my skin. "It feels so good... I-I wish I had everything of you. I wish it was your cock inside me."

"Yeah?" He hums with satisfaction, masturbating his irritated and veiny member, wet with his own pre-cum.

"I wanted so much." I agree, my head clouded with pleasure. Suddenly he stops me and takes the vibrator out of me. My orgasm, the one that was building in the pit of my stomach, slowly fades away. I groan at the lack of contact and feel like crying, but Jungkook is faster than any reaction I can make and lies down, placing me on top of him. He holds my heavy breasts with the palms of his hands, bites his lower lip and holds my waist so firmly that I feel him in my muscles.

“Ride my cock. I want to feel you squeezing me.” He whispers in my ear, nibbling at my earlobe. An immediate shiver takes over me completely, and my hips move instinctively against his lap. I rub my clit against his member, and the climax that had faded away begins to return stronger, once again.

Not thinking about the consequences or anything other than pleasure, I lift one of my knees and hold his penis up. The rosy mushroom head right beneath me. I scrape my entrance with my wetness, and in an act of madness, which I couldn’t explain, I lower my body down slowly, locking my eyes with his intensely, watching his reactions of desire close to mine.

My tight pussy accommodates itself, and the flesh separates, with his cock being guided inside me. I tense my body because it feels like breathing is difficult. I experience a sharp pain that leaves me strained, but Jungkook’s hands encourage me to continue and hold my back tightly, rolling my hips until he is fully inside me. My pelvis finally presses against his pubis, and I need a few seconds to truly understand what I’ve done.

He is so big and thick, penetrating internal parts I didn’t even know existed, completely filled. I’m careful not to move, afraid the pain will worsen if I do. My body trembles, and I need to support my hands on his stomach to stay seated. There’s no turning back this time. Jungkook is rooted in my life, and now there’s no way I will forget him, even if one day he doesn’t want to continue what we have. I take a deep breath, avoiding the tears in my eyes. I don’t want this to end. I feel so good with him, like a different person, freer and happier. He notices my head is in another world and places his hand on my neck, pulling me down gently.

“I know you’re thinking about a lot right now, but I want you to focus on the present.” He says in a whisper. His eyes comfort me, and the storm inside me calms a little. “Do you want to stop? We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to go all the way.”

“N-no, I want to continue.” I reply weakly. The pain in my vagina doesn’t go away though, even after a few seconds with him inside me. “I don’t know what to do. It hurts.”

“Don’t go up and down; that would cause you more pain.” He explains, tucking my hair behind my ear. He looks around and stretches his hand to grab the vibrator among the messy sheets of the bed. “This will help you. Stay still.”

And I do, not moving an inch. I wait for Jungkook, watching how he fits the pink device on my button, pressing my body down. I let out a sigh, feeling the tremors make contact with my swollen and sensitive clitoris. I lean my body forward, and even with Jungkook’s cock stretching me to the limit, a light pleasure starts to grow at the base of my belly, going straight to my pussy. I start to breathe calmly, rocking a little until I find a better angle. Jungkook moans, probably feeling the vibrations too, and throws his head back, all sweaty with a red neck and torso.

I focus on my own body, remembering what I like. I push the strands of hair covering my chest away, and pull my nipple between my fingers. I bite my lips, rolling my hips forward and backward with more control, feeling his heavy hands on my waist. A smile suddenly escapes my mouth. Jungkook is in another dimension beneath me, grunting and closing his eyes tightly, as if he’s holding back. I feel a bit sorry for him because I know he won’t move until I finally confirm he can. I’m happy with his care for me though, and as a thank you, I lay my breasts on his chest and kiss his mouth, biting his lower lip.

His tongue massages mine, and a shiver runs down my spine when I feel his hand on my ass, squeezing the flesh as if it were his. I test the internal walls of my pussy, hesitantly moving up and down. His cockhead meets my most sensitive spot, deep inside on my cervix, and a tremor spreads throughout my body. I force my legs and go up again, leaving only the tip inside me, to meet his body once more. A moan escapes me, finally feeling pleasure from the penetration. I stop kissing him, ecstatic with the new sensation coursing through all my muscles, and push myself off his chest, moving with more intensity.

He goes in and out, very slowly. The feeling of fullness making me hotter, as if my pussy had expanded to accommodate him somehow; the thrusts that were once painful are now thrilling, driving me wild. His mouth moves toward my breast, and he gives a little smirk between grunts, sucking on my swollen nipple. I roll my eyes back, dazed, electric, boiling, all at once, filled with energy points being explored simultaneously.

It takes me a while to manage to increase the tempo, using my legs supported on the bed for bigger strikes, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind and thrusts his hips up, going deeper. The sloppy sound of our sex meeting, along with our moans, fills the room completely.

“Look at that, Y/N. How fucking hot you are.” He holds my chin and forces my head down toward where our bodies meet. I’m ecstatic, watching how he enters and exits me easily. A white ring of my lubrication surrounds his entire slick cock. I moan, closing my eyes, unable to digest the image before me. “Get up; I want you on all fours.”

He pulls me up and get out of me, leaving me with a strange feeling of emptiness. I whimper in silence, letting him guide me on the bed. Jungkook kneels on the mattress and push my face into his pillow. Before he does anything else, I raise my butt, impatiently for him to hurry. He taps the tip of his member against my entrance, testing, and pushes slowly, putting only the halfway. I grip the sheet tightly as he plunges into my tight and clenching hole. In this position, I perceive him wider, experiencing a pang of pain that passes quickly as he fully fits inside me. I grab the vibrator when I feel the first thrust, which takes me by surprise. This time he uses force, holding my hip with one hand and pulling my hair with the other. Jungkook uses his knees to spread my legs more, and pounds me to the hilt, mercilessly.

“Jungkook!” A scream escapes my throat, unable to withstand how he fucks me, hard and forcefully. The pleasure I felt from his fingers doesn’t compare to what I feel with his cock. He is all big and thick, and even experiencing a hint of pain, I would endure it for hours if it meant having what I have now, once again. I push my body backward, wanting more, rolling my eyes and praying internally that God forgives me, because if there is any paradise in this world, I find myself exactly in it right now.

“Beg me to fuck your pussy.” He grunts in my ear. A moan escapes my throat, unable to hold back the way he pounds me, slow and hard. I whimper, whispering words even I can't understand.

“F-fuck my pussy.” I choke, circling my clit with the toy. The hot, strong sensation increasing more and more. I can hardly support my body on the bed, weak from pleasure. “Fuck me hard... Make me cum baby!”

“Do you want to cum on my cock?” He asks, chuckling. He slaps my butt, hitting my ass hard, thrusting into my entrance in a way I know I’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I-I want to!” I plead sobbing, almost screaming. I forget everything, at my limit. My canal pulses strongly, unexpectedly, and my head tilts down as I feel the overwhelming climax sucking me into a parallel world. Jungkook doesn’t stop, however, not for a second. The head of his cock hits my most sensitive spot again, again and again, making me see stars; tears in my eyes and saliva dripping from the corner of my mouth. The vibrator still pressed against my clitoris pushes me over the edge, and all things suddenly disapears.

He moans loudly and pulls out of me before cumming on my back and butt, marking my skin. My body falls instinctively onto the mattress, and I can no longer see anything but black. I’m so weak from the intense orgasm that I can only understand what Jungkook is saying to me a few seconds later.

“Hey Y/N. Are you okay?” I hear his worried voice as he holds my face, checking my condition. I moan, unable to form coherent words.

“N-no. I mean… I think so.” I confirm, organizing my thoughts.

“Your pressure must have dropped from the heat.” He explains, wiping the beads of sweat from my face. I nod my head, sighing. “Try to sleep a little. I’m going to change the sheets.”

“I need a shower.” I grunt. I don’t want to get up, but I have to. I’m all dirty from his sperm and my own lubrication, which drips down my legs.

“Alright. I’ll get a towel; wait a bit.” Jungkook leaves before I can respond. I lay my sore body on the bed, and if I weren’t filled with so many thoughts in my head, I would have fainted from exhaustion.

I’m no longer a virgin. Knowing this is painful. Not because I made this decision, because I probably wanted this much more than Jungkook, but it’s hard because I’m abandoning the person I was, or the one I was trying to be, and that hurts so much. My mother’s expectations of having a wedding with purity are no longer reality. I look at my body, dirty, but I feel good about myself. I chose this. No one pressured me. No one made me feel bad to manipulate my emotions. I had sex with Jungkook, and I don’t regret it. I smile, still lying on the bed. I feel hands on my body, and I’m lifted effortlessly, with strong arms wrapping around me. I keep my eyes closed, resting my head on his neck.

Jungkook sets me down silently, and I have to lean my body against the cold bathroom wall to stay standing. I open my eyes when he turns on the shower, and the jets of water fall on my head. His arms wrap around my waist, and only then do I realize he’s hugging me tightly, wrapping his whole body around mine. I rest my head on his chest, emotional. We had done many intimate things before, like last night, but today feels distinct. I completely surrendered to him, and that changed something inside me. The whole world outside remains the same, but I feel completely different in my head. I lift my chin without saying anything, connecting my eyes with his. Those big, dark eyes that I love, shining like no other I’ve ever known. I mentally ask him not to hurt me because I like him. I like him a lot, after a lifetime of not feeling this way with anyone.

“Are you okay?” He asks me without breaking eye contact. I nod my head, with a mini smile.

“Yes.” I agree, happy to be telling the truth.

I wake up with rays of light streaming through the bedroom window. The curtain blocks some of the sun, but a beam touches my eyes and I can no longer ignore my lack of sleep. I slept very well last night. Jungkook cradled my sleep all night long, hugging my waist and putting one leg between mine, literally glued to my body. He doesn’t seem to have moved and remains in the same position, his face buried in my neck. I pet his soft hair, which tickles my cheek, and stretch my muscles, trying not to wake him. My concern seems in vain, however, because I hear a little laugh, indicating that he has been awake for a while, whether because of me or for another reason. I smile, running my fingers along his arms, enjoying the laziness I feel every morning.

"Good morning." He groans hoarsely in my ear. I feel a slight shiver from his breath, and turn my face to see him better.

"Good morning." I repeat, taking the initiative and kissing his lips. I regret it immediately, because of my morning breath, but he doesn’t care and deepens the gesture, holding my hair and tasting my lips. "Shall we get up?"

"Yes. This time you’re not skiping breakfast." He laughs and gets up all at once. Unlike him, I get out of bed slowly, afraid that sleep will muddle my head and I’ll end up tripping and falling on the floor.

Last night Jungkook lent me a tracksuit after the shower, and even though the pants and shirt are infinitely bigger than me, I feel comfortable in what I’m wearing. I follow him to the bathroom, and I’m internally happy to notice that the toothbrush I used the last time I was here, is still on the sink counter, next to his. I brush my teeth alongside him, cleaning my face and fixing my hair the best I can. Before I met Jungkook, I never worried about my appearance. I was satisfied with my face, body, and hair. I never worked out or wore much makeup, but now that I’m here with him, I feel a little insecure. Jungkook seems perfect, effortlessly. His dark, rebellious hair sways from side to side, and his eyes are still puffy from sleep. I smile, seeing that his face has nothing to do with his entirely tattooed body. He looks all cute, applying healing ointment to the new tattoo stamped on his skin, with a concentrated pout. I look away when he catches me watching him, but he notices anyway and smiles silently.

"What do you want to eat for breakfast?" He asks, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Don’t worry about me. Anything is fine."

"Are you sure? You’re not embarrassed to ask, right?" He takes my hand and guides me to the hallway, heading toward the kitchen. He circles the counter and taps his fingers on the marble, as if deciding something. He rummages through the fridge and chooses kimchi, rice, tomato and onion.

"It’s not embarrassment. I’m used to not eating in the morning since I always grab something at night." I shrug, sighing. It’s the truth, but I think because of all the effort I made last night, my stomach growls with hunger, unlike my usual days.

"I couldn’t do that." He says, focused on preparing the food. "I run occasionally and go to the gym, so if I don’t eat, I feel weak and can’t work out."

"Of course you work out." I reply sarcastically. He laughs, rolling his eyes. "Don’t tell me you also do yoga and play tennis on the weekends."

"Tennis, no, of course." He smiles playfully. "Much less yoga, please."

"I can totally picture you doing that without any problems. You seem perfect at everything." I confess, sincerely. "You cook, tattoo, work out, run, and are very organized. I, at most, can cook."

"And I box too." He boasts, raising an eyebrow. I open my mouth to respond, but I’m too shocked by the new information. Imagining him with gloves in a ring, shirtless and sweaty, makes me feel hot.

"I could never picture that." I say, in a whisper.

"In Seoul, I have a professional trainer. It’s a hobby of mine, so I only train occasionally, but I really enjoy it." Jungkook smiles, placing the kimchi on my plate. As last time, everything looks delicious. However, the smell of the tea is what makes my stomach rumble. I wait patiently while he fills my cup and pokes my food, putting it in my mouth.

"It’s delicious." I moan with hunger, taking another sip of tea and eating the kimchi, which strangely pairs well with the drink.

"You’re the type who moans when eating delicious things?" He jokes, and only then do I realize that the sounds I make while eating are quite similar to the ones I produce in bed, from pleasure. My face burns with embarrassment, but Jungkook just laughs, swallowing his breakfast.

"You only think about sex." I state, embarrassed. "I’ve never met someone like that."

"Sex is good. I love it. If I could, I’d do it every day, seven days a week." He says, leaving no room for me to disagree. And how could I? Yesterday was my first time, and even with the pain, I had an indescribable pleasure that I will never forget. I can hardly imagine how it will be when everything is just good.

"Yes..." I nod, not knowing what to say. Suddenly, Jungkook’s face turns serious. He stops eating and looks me in the eyes, with an expression full of concern. I get kind of scared, waiting for him in silence.

"We didn’t use a condom yesterday." He says, tapping his fingers on the counter. I widen my eyes, finally remembering that big detail. I was so ecstatic about the sex that I didn’t even think about protection. "Do you use any contraceptive method?"

"No, I don’t." I whisper, startled. I don’t want to get pregnant, and even less to catch something. I’ve never done something so foolish in my life. Jungkook really drives me crazy, making me think of nothing but him.

"Calm down. We can buy a morning-after pill for you." He smiles, stroking my hand with his thumb. His calm and relaxed face brings me some comfort. "I had tests done three months ago, before coming to Busan. Everything was negative. I can show you my results. I always used protection with my ex-boyfriend; yesterday was... an exception."

"I’m sorry, Jungkook. I shouldn’t have just taken that initiative without consulting you. I don’t know what got into my head." My voice becomes weak. He always asked for permission to touch me, always making me comfortable. I was impulsive and reckless, not only with myself but with him.

"It was my fault, Y/N." He replies, shaking his head. "I’m more experienced than you, and I should have prevented us. Now what we can do is avoid this from happening again next time. I don’t want you to feel obligated to take medication, so we can use the good old condom for now."

"Are we going to have a next time?" I question, not hiding a smile. He nods, agreeing.

"If you want, we’ll have many more." He laughs. I want to. I want it so much. I lean closer to his face, and looking at his rosy and delicious lips, I kiss him deeply, grateful that he cares about me. His tongue entwines with mine, and his teeth nip at my lower lip, in a bite that doesn’t hurt but makes me horn. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, pulling away from him.

"You know I want to." I say when his mouth separates from mine.

"Okay then. I’ll go out and head to the pharmacy to get your medicine. In the meantime, you can make some popcorn for us. What do you think about us watching a movie?" He asks, tucking my hair behind my ear. I nod, excited.

"Yes. I’ll grab my phone and call the library. I’ll tell them I won’t be able to work today." I feel bad about the idea of lying to my boss, but in these three years of work, I’ve only called in sick twice. I think it’s okay for today to be an exception.

"Perfect." Jungkook gives me a peck, and then he goes to the bedroom at the end of the hallway. When he comes back, he is more put together, with keys in hand and fixing his hair with the other. He waves at me and opens the door to leave the apartment.

I eat the rest of the food and wash the dishes Jungkook and I used. I open one of the kitchen cabinets and grab the microwave popcorn he had mentioned. While the kernels pop on their own, I head to the living room and turn on the TV. I log into Netflix, browsing through the movies he has already watched. He loves horror, but surprisingly, he also enjoys romance. I open a sweet movie for when he arrives and sit on the couch scrolling through my phone.

A few minutes pass when I hear someone knocking on the door. I frown in confusion, but I go to it, opening the door. I should have checked the peephole, because I would have ignored it and pretended no one was home, if I had known who it was. Misuk, Jungkook’s mother, looks me up and down and opens her mouth, surprised. The way she observes me is nothing like any other day, with affection and tenderness; a mix of concern and disappointment is etched on her features.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" She questions, entering the apartment. She looks around, perhaps searching for her son, but when she doesn’t find him, she turns back to me.

"Mrs. Jeon..." I stammer, not knowing what to say. I try to cover my neck full of hickeys, but I end up drawing attention to the spot unintentionally. My whole body trembles, from my feet to my head.

"Y/N, explain to me what’s going on. Why are you wearing Jungkook’s clothes?"

"I-I needed to sleep here." I lie, but I don’t do it very well. She closes her eyes and places her hand on her head, worried.

"Tell me the truth. Explain to me why you’re here." She sighs, not taking her eyes off me, as if I were a child who had done something very wrong. I swallow hard, feeling my throat close. I’ve never seen her like this, so unsettled as she is now.

"I slept here, Mrs. Jeon. Jungkook and I are... We’re in a kind of relationship..." My voice weakens suddenly. I shake my head, unsure of what to say.

Before I can say anything else, the main door of the apartment opens again, and Jungkook enters. He has a smile on his face, which fades when he realizes who is with me.

"Jungkook, what did you do with this girl?" She questions him. "Are you two dating by any chance?"

"No, mom..." He denies. "It’s not really that. We were together last night, but that’s all."

The carefree way he denies it, devastates me. I open my mouth, trying to say that yes, we are in a serious relationship, but the truth is we aren’t. I had forgotten that. I was so happy with everything that had happened between us, with the way he treats me, that I didn’t realize my single status remains the same. Nothing has changed.

"Y/N, your mother... You’re from the church, you can’t be with someone like this!" She argues, stumbling over her words, shaking her head. "Did he touch you?"

"Mom, please..." Jungkook steps in front of me, pushing his hair out of his face with intensity.

"Jungkook, you’re not taking this seriously. This girl, she’s not for you! She’s innocent! Do you realize that you might be misleading this girl?"

"I’m not misleading anyone if that’s what you want to say."

"You told me that Namjoon still calls you every day." She denies, biting her lips sadly. Then she looks at me, turning back to me. "Y/N, I want you to know that if you think of something serious with Jungkook, forget it. He is involved with his ex until the last hair on his head, and I don’t want you to be in the middle of the two. I love you, so I don’t want to see you hurt and misled, dear. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I’m not misleading her." He grunts, repeating. "I never promised anything, and we’re fine this way."

"You never promised anything? You don’t promise anything to avoid the responsibilities of a relationship. I would be so happy to see you with her in a stable commitment, but you don’t want that. The problem is, does she think the same as you?" She asks, staring at me. My heart tightens when the two of them look at me, breathing heavily from the heated discussion. Of course I want a relationship, a serious one with a future. It’s what I’ve always envisioned since I was a child. Even knowing that Jungkook didn’t want it, somewhere inside me, there has always been hope. I still want to be with him, much more now that we had sex, now that I realized I like him a lot, like never before.

"Mrs. Jeon, I don’t want you to argue over me. Jungkook treats me well, and we agreed on this more... liberal kind of thing." My justification sounds like a joke when I say it. She laughs without really finding it funny, and I see in her eyes that she feels sorry for me.

"Dear, never accept crumbs from a man just because you like him. He may be my son, but I know very well that you want something different from what he’s providing you. I’ve been with a man like that and regretted trusting, because they don’t care about your emotions and run away at the first moment there’s responsibility." She explains, as if I were too innocent to understand. And maybe I am, because I hadn’t considered all of this and I know she’s right. "I know, because you’ve already told me, that you want to be with someone forever. Stick to your dreams, without changing your aspirations for anyone." Misuk finishes, sighing. "I’ll wait for you in the hallway. I’ll take you home." My whole body trembles, with no support when I see my neighbor leaving through the door without saying another word to us. A silence settles in the living room, leaving me even more contemplative.

"Jungkook, what she said is true?"

"Which part?" He asks ironically, rubbing his face.

"You really don’t want anything serious right now? You have no expectations for the future?"

"I already made clear that no, I don't." He denies, looking at me. "Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you, but that’s the reality of our situation. I just broke up with Namjoon not long ago. I can’t see myself with someone else right now. It’s still too early."

"That’s the reality, but you put yourself in it." I choke, whispering. "You told me you felt good with me, that you liked me. I don’t understand. How, even liking me, can you talk to your ex at the same time? You hinted that whatever you two had was all over. That changes everything."

"That doesn’t change anything because this situation has nothing to do with you." Jungkook grunts again. "I thought you could understand me. I thought you woudn't judge me, as you promised me days ago."

"Except that days ago you told me someone was trying to get close to you, and that you didn’t want that. You made it seem like whatever you two had was all over." I respond; a knot forming in my throat.

"Y/N, where do you want to go with all of this?" He questions, rubbing his face, desperate.

"When you told me you felt lonely, were you referring to your ex? All this time... all this time, was I just a kind of escape?"

"Y/N, are you listening to yourself? You're acting like you know me better than I know myself. Stop trying to guess what I want and just respect my limits."

"Jungkook, just answer my question." I snap, starting to get irritated. He looks away and swallows hard, pressing his lips together.

"Of course it wasn’t. You were never an escape. It’s just that I spent years with someone, and I didn’t want to feel alone. I... I lost everything, and when I was with you, I felt like I was regaining some control." He shakes his head, sighing. His eyes darken, as if he remembers something from the past that is very hard to recall. "Namjoon cheated on me, and that’s why we broke up. I wanted to be with someone, knowing that this someone could never do the same to me."

"So that’s the truth." I laugh without humor. My eyes burn, and only then do I realize I’m about to cry; I have to pull in some air and control my breathing, so I don’t break down right here. My chest hurts, like never before. It feels as if breathing is hard, heavy, agonizing. "I was just a piece of this game that you and your ex have. He calls you, and then you pick up. You feel superior and secure because now you’re with someone else, but still hope, deep down, that he does everything to be forgiven. You want to forgive him, and you're a fool to even consider that."

"And you, Y/N? You’re perfect, right?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, but doesn’t wait for a reply. "You’re just like your mother, always judging other people. You think that just because I don’t want to be with you, I’m manipulative, a man who is using you without even thinking about your feelings. I made it clear from the start that I liked you, but I never spoke of a serious relationship because I thought you already knew I wasn’t ready."

"You’re not ready?" I laugh sarcastically. The words spill from my throat, unable to prevent it. Him saying I’m just like my mother, hurts me more than I could imagine. "Not wanting commitment when you took my virginity last night shows me that you don’t take me seriously. That you only see me as a one-night stand, a sex that you’ll forget in a few days. Jungkook, I’ve never been with anyone; do you not understand what that means? What happened last night was important to me, but you act as if you don’t care and that everything is okay anyway. Your mom was right. I should have never gotten into this situation."

"I thought that yesterday, when you told me to go with the flow of what we had, we were on the same page." He whispers after my outburst. I pull my hair, feeling an intense desire to rip it out, sad. I can’t believe I gave him something that only belonged to my future love. I shake my head in disbelief.

"You don’t get it, do you? I like you, Jungkook." I confess, breathless. My chest opens, and almost at the same moment, I can breathe a little better. Confessing what I feel, even in this situation, is liberating. "But I don’t expect you to feel the same. Don’t worry, I know you don’t want anything serious and that you’ll go back to Seoul in a while. The mistake was mine for letting you believe it’s okay to be with me without worrying about tomorrow. I’m the type of person who needs comfort, to have a perspective for the future, and I think that’s our biggest difference."

"Why do things between us have to be so difficult?" He asks, banging his hand against his own head. "Damn it, Y/N, we were doing so well!"

"I have to go home." I whisper without answering him, curled up in a bubble around myself. He just nods, and I wait a few seconds, hoping for more. Hoping he’ll ask me to stay, hoping he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend, that he’ll say yes, he’s ready for the next step, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t leave his spot. He turns his back and goes to the bedroom without looking at me one last time.

A pain spreads through my body as if my feelings could hurt me from the inside out. I’m so dazed that I don’t even remember to grab my clothes from his room. I just take my keys, my phone, and look at the apartment one last time before deciding, with great regret, that I made a mistake. The biggest mistake of my life. I was so worried about my mom, thinking about what she would want for me, that I forgot to evaluate what Jungkook’s intentions were. That maybe he liked me, but not as much as I do. Not enough.

Enough. What a stupid word.

My eyes fill with tears again, and this time I let them flow down my face. Was I too intense? Too quick? Did he give me signs? Did he make it clear, even in the subtext, that he didn’t want something serious with me? I open the door in a burst, trembling. My whole body tense, as if I couldn’t even walk. Mrs. Jeon is leaning against the wall, looking down. Her dark eyes, so similar to his, make me feel even more devastated.

"It’s okay, dear." She smiles, approaching me. She tucks some of my hair behind my ear and caresses my face with her thumb. I nod in agreement. "I think we need to talk."

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