#if this doesn't last then i get a scarf | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinhomi · 10 months

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boyfriend's best friend Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you should've left your boyfriend sooner considering the man of your dreams, his best friend, has always been there for you... but the faithful event you were hoping for finally occurs and you find yourself at his house, in his arms, in his bed.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst?, smut, fluff, aquaintances to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cheating (but not really, you'll see), reader is in a toxic relationship, explicit descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex (it's sexy but use protection babes), fingering, pretty vanilla.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4K

I have a thing for sex while it rains, it seems... and like this I post something after months. I'll work this storyline in the future too for Hyunjin, but for now, enjoy!

It's strange how sometimes we believe to be in the right place to later find out we were living in a lie, a product of our fervid imagination, just to not accept reality and the fact that life, or even our past self, played a good and structured not-so-funny prank on us.

These lies we tell ourselves most of the time are a response to our awful experiences, but they can become harmful in numerous types of ways, and we should learn that instead of letting us be tempted by sweet beliefs. When we find ourselves facing reality it's hard to accept it, it's ugly, but ugly things are part of life and we should try and accept them nonetheless, they may reveal themselves as lessons or the best things that happened to us, with various meanings to that.

What pisses people off the most is the "waste of time". And that's how you feel too, like the rest of humankind, angry because you wasted time. You would very gladly prefer to be in the denial stage of the whole thing but it's so evident that you can't even pretend to be doubtful, to question what you saw, to give him a chance to explain himself.

The car is still cold even if you already reached the destination that popped in your mind right after what happened, salty tears adorning your eyes as they cross your freezing cheeks, collecting under your chin, falling on your scarf. The same damn scarf he gifted you after your first two weeks of dating, the one you didn't even like at all, the color you hated, a dull pattern over it… the urge to pull down the car window and throw it outside in the middle of the parking lot soon becomes reality. Wind starts to rise a bit, and you see it dance on the wet concrete for a while before a car passes over it and plasters it on the ground.

Ironic, right? You feel a bit bad after the impulsive gesture, but he didn't hesitate to make you feel the same, so, "screw it".

You shouldn't even be here. You should go to your own best friend, sitting on her way too low couch with its broken springs and cry your eyes out as she yells at you her usual "I told you so!" and "You're an idiot, I knew it from the start!" even if what you really need is comfort, and not to be scolded like a twelve years old while she offers you chocolates and tissues like in some chiché romcom.

That's why Hyunjin's place is just few meters and five floors away from you now. You're actually hesitant to get out the car but when you see your boyfriend's text appear on your screen, asking where are you, it's suddenly not so difficult to take your things and rush to take the elevator, and when you send Hyunjin a message telling him you're in front of his apartment he's quick to open the door. He doesn't say a thing, he doesn't even dare to, he already knows.

He delicately takes your hand in his and guides you inside with a saddened smile, his eyes soft as they watch you attentively trying to search for your tears. God, he wants to kiss them all away, he never wants to see you like this ever again, but he thinks it's probably not the last time… is it? Either way, he'll do anything he can to make the redness of your eyes disappear.

"Go sit on the couch petal, relax for me, hm?" he says in a hushed tone to not provoke your impending outburst. When you're finally hugged by his cushions you feel his presence behind you, his hands going on your shoulders to free you from your heavy coat and bag that he places on his forearm. When he reaches for your scarf his fingers are suddenly met with the cold skin of your neck and a startled "oh!" escapes from him because of the unexpected touch, making you giggle. If only you knew how his heart starts beating faster whenever he hears you like this…

"Where is your scarf? You always wear it, were you in such a rush to leave it at your place?" he's now lowered near your face, breath tickling your cheek as he adjusts your jumper on your shoulders ー the stained one you only wear at home, you didn't even change, how embarrassing. He touches you like frail porcelain and little bumps start to rise on your skin where traces of his touch linger, you wish his fingerprints could bruise your skin.

"I threw it in the parking lot…" you explain, looking at him trying to not make your lips touch while doing so.

A laugh that comes from his chest slowly builds up as he lifts himself and reluctantly distances from your face to go place your belongings on the hanger at the entrance. If only he knew how your heart twists in excitement whenever you hear him like this…

Hyunjin doesn't come back to you immediately. He always makes sure you have enough time to think by yourself first, to gather your words, to decide if you want to cry or yell, and then he sits beside you and goes along with anything you've come up with. It's always been like this until today, every time you came to his place after something happened between you and his best friend, every time he had to gather your broken pieces and try to put you together again. He doesn't know he's always done that beautifully though, making a breathtaking mosaic out of you, making you so splendid and wonderful anyone could say he's your creator.

You hear a distant rustling in the kitchen, the clicking of the bottles in the fridge as he closes it with a thud, two glasses colliding it seems, and his slippers sliding on the floor, approaching you.

"You're lucky petal, I have your favorite today." he proceeds to place the glasses on the way too elegant coffee table and pour the drink with all the calmness in the world. Time with Hyunjin stops. You think that every second spent with him is never wasted.

"I like this clip, it compliments your hair color." he says suddenly, snapping you out of your trance. How could he notice such a thing?

"Really? It's the first time I wear it…" you still mumble a bit, too shaken to let your voice take its natural timbre. Hyunjin laughs again, handing you the drink and carefully sitting so as to not spill everything on his expensive carpet. His body is completely facing yours, knee against knee.

"It's not true!" Hyunjin takes a sip and giggles at your confused expression.

"You had it the first time we met, too. It was perfect with your dress and necklace. Do you really not remember? You looked beautiful…"

What Hyunjin refers to is a random saturday evening of autumn. What day it was, what you were wearing, what you did before meeting in front of the restaurant, you can't remember… but what you can vividly recall is the stinging sensation of the first cold breeze of the season on your cheeks, how crunchy multicolored leaves swirled on the sidewalk, and the city lights beginning to be turned on a bit earlier than usual. Now that you think about it, it was around this period. You remember what perfume you wore, paying attention to what type of impression you wanted to give to your boyfriend's group of friends that you were about to meet for the first time, and you even remember what mascara you decided to use.

But what remained tattooed on your bones the most are the first ten seconds of Hwang Hyunjin taking possess of your vision, because you felt incredibly sick.

If you close your eyes and concentrate you can almost feel the same emotions, when your stomach swirled like it was a washing machine, your head light, and your legs almost giving in making you trip while standing still.

You felt incredibly guilty, disgusted with yourself, disappointed, a monster. Why the hell your first thought was "he's my soulmate" and not something along the lines of "nice, my boyfriend's best friend" you still don't know. Call it destiny, call it sixth sense, you immediately tried to suppress it all.

It didn't help that Hyunjin's slender fingers delicately took your hand to kiss your knuckles with his oh, oh so beautiful lips like an ambassador of chivalry itself, his siren eyes looking up at you sweetly but confidently, making you blush like crazy ー you later blamed your flustered expression to the restaurant's excessive heating.

On top of that, your boyfriend decided to sit at your side leaving Hyunjin in front of you, so you had his ridiculously handsome face in sight for the whole night as you ate your stupid california rolls and tried to elegantly slurp your noodles ー for as much as something like that is even possible.

You talked, a lot, even if you felt your face heat up at every strangely seductive giggling sound he made together with the little bumps his shoes would land on your naked ankles, toying with your heels from time to time. You had so much in common, and after that you only felt complete when he was near you.

Your boyfriend did catch on with the new dynamic though, so unfortunately considering how jealous and a bit possessive he is, you and Hyunjin didn't see each other as often as you expected after that, but you really didn't grasp that it was because he wanted you apart at first, just a series of unfortunate coincidences.

Hyunjin parted from you with a tight hug, lingering his hands on the smaller of your back, adjusting your shawl over your coat and twirling a strand of your hair behind your ear, the moment never fully leaving your memory. He was… perfect, really just perfect, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous when you got in the car with your boyfriend to let him accompany you to your apartment, the thought of another man being more suited for you making you feel like you were cheating. You only felt relieved when you talked about all his friends during the ride and he revealed that Hyunjin is "a bit of a player, y'know, he flirts with everyone and he has those french manners, but he's always been like this." so you thought that maybe your feelings would slowly fade… but they always, always rested down the bottom of your heart, even if you pushed them away forcefully, almost violently.

No one knows you two meet up from time to time now, because one time you found yourself crying in a corner on his shouler. No one knows that you always seem happy and carefree only because you talk with Hyunjin, because he comforts you when you need it without complaining. Not that it needs to be a secret, but you both are well aware that it may result suspicious to meet with your boyfriend's best friend late at night, best friend's girlfriend from his side.

And the fact that you two always seem to attract each other like magnets, so close, with instant connection, it doesn't let thoughts stray further from the idea of something tender existing between the two of you, everyone can see it.

It's just that it's prohibited. Or, to say it better, you were too caught in your lies to even contemplate the idea of leaving your boyfriend and Hyunjin simply didn't want to betray his "friend". But when you started to message him asking for advice, when you later had long calls together, when you crumbled in his arms crying almost weekly, he wasn't so sure about having a best friend anymore.

"I… you really think I was beautiful?"

Your question comes from the heart. The mixture of the memories of that night and his proximity makes heat rise on your face, shyness visible from the automatic action of your teeth catching your bottom lip and your gaze straying from his face to linger on the glass in your hands. The bubbles of the drink fizzle on the surface and for a moment or two that's all that can be heard in the room.

"You're always beautiful, y/n. I told you many times." he says cautiously, putting down everything to wrap his hands around your wrist.

"I don't know how he doesn't make you feel like you are, I don't know why he treats you like this but, petal, you're an incredible woman," he lowers his head to look into your eyes as he tries to explain himself further, "smart and strong. He's an asshole and you should stop doing this to yourself."

Does he know? Does he know what your boyfriend did? Probably not. Hyunjin would never hurt you, he would've immediately told you. You want to make sure though, in case everything that involves Hyunjin is a lie too.

"Why are you his friend then? Why do you keep coming to our house and have dinner as we fake not knowing each other like we really do? Why do you keep on hanging out with him? If you really think he's terribleー"

"Because I want to protect you."

His reply is fast, cutting you off. His stare bores into your eyes and drinks in all of your feelings, like he can see them displayed in front of him. A few seconds of silence fill the room and you suddenly gulp down your drink until the last drop, sprinting up from your seat and escaping his intoxicating presence that's almost engulfing you.

Hyunjin doesn't say a thing. He waits, he can sense that something big happened this time and fuck if he's going to kill his "friend" after this. You were never this silent, you usually would storm inside and throw yourself on him… for as much as he dislikes seeing you like this, he's grateful for your presence, for the feel of your body against his, the trust you put into him. He doesn't do all this just to be a rebound, he already knows part of him is yours and vice versa, so he's simply waiting. Everyone considers him being a romantic man, but really, he just believes in destiny. When Hyunjin first saw you every cell in his body started to boil, goosebumps rising down his nape, the world destroyed itself and was reborn before him, it's impossible that it didn't matter at all.. That was the day he realized he didn't know what "love" meant before.

He watches your silhouette get near the big windows that face the road, little droplets of water striking them. The sound of the rain reaches your ears only when you notice the detail, and soon you see how much water is actually coming down from the sky, your scarf already soaked and dirty laying alone between various cars. You take a deep breath, thinking about your next words, a way to tell Hyunjin what happened without sounding pathetic as you concentrate on the mesmerizing foliage outside, reds and oranges and yellows decorating the city landscape.

"He accidentally left his phone at home since he rushed to his office, I don't exactly know why…" you started to explain, hands fidgeting with your rings, heavy breath obstructing your throat, "and I heard a notification so I went to check right?"

Hyunjin slowly gets up and approaches you, his warmth radiating behind you now, hands resting on your shoulders and caressing them as he listens and slowly gets closer and closer until he's hugging you.

"So, petal? What was it about? Did you find porn?" he tries to guess, but when you shake your head as a 'no' a cold chill goes through his back. Oh, oh no…

"It… it was a message, a very sexual one, coming from a saved contact, I don't even remember the name." you pout, looking down almost in shame even if you're not the responsible one. Maybe it's the shame of having a cheater as a partner.

"I opened the chat Hyunie. They've been sexting for months and from what I could grasp they even met few times…" you can feel tears start to form on your waterline again, a deep ache inside your chest rises when you finally say it out loud. One thing was to acknowledge it, another was to tell everything to the man you've secretly been in love with for a year already. What were you doing exactly all this time?

"Am I really not good enough for anyone, Hyunie? She's… she's so different from me… Am I really a disaster as he says? Why would he do that to me? I've always been a good girlfriend, I even ignored all those mean words and his being immature and the shitty sex!! I put aside my needs to make him happy thinking I was the problem!" you turn around to face him and you're met with his serious expression.

You expected to find him at least slightly surprised by your sudden show of emotions, but he's calm, he radiates calmness. Hyunjin sighs and looks in the distance behind you for a second, blinking ever so slowly, his touch traveling up to cup your cheeks and wipe your angry tears with his thumbs.

That's the final stroke, the gesture that makes you sob and bury your face in his chest to hide.

You aren't broken yet, it's almost as if Hyunjin is physically holding you together. He's trying to smooth the new sharp edges that formed around your heart to not let it be isolated, while hugging you he's working hard to let it be still approachable to receive and give love, he's trying with all he has to prevent a horrible plague that's trying to approach you.

You hold his shirt between your hands, tightly, you're afraid you'll ruin it but you can't stop, you need to ground yourself and try to be strong, but it's so hard to not let him sway you around the room, lullying you as he hushes you and lets his fingers comb your messy hair.

"Leave him."

You freeze.

Did he really say that? Hyunjin never said it out loud. He did make you understand his vision about the situation, he did suggest it with hidden phrases, but so explicitly…

"It's time to let him go, don't you think?" he presses his lips on your forehead, continuing to mumble his real feelings, "You don't need someone who mistreats you petal. You deserve better." he closes them in a kiss that leaves a mark on your soul, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin?" it takes a lot of strength to look up at him. His eyes seem less gentle, brows forming a frown that's not his usual playful one, a bit scary even. The mole under his eye is contracted and his mouth is curved in disgust, just enough for you to understand he's furious.

"Why don’t we put an end to this farce? He didn't even deserve you in the first place, you don't love him, stop doing this to yourself y/n. There's someone who's the right one, for sure…" his tone is desperate, but you want him to say it clearly. You can't help it, if it's to be sure or to satisfy a need you've been having for a while you don't know, but you want him to say it loud and clear.

You know that if he says it now everything will change and it'll be scary as fuck, but if that's a premise for a better life… maybe it's not as scary as you think, it's Hyunjin after all, the man who's looking at you in adoration.

"And what man could possibly want me at this point?" your voice is shaky and uncertain as you tease the confession out of him.

Hyunjin looks away and smiles, a bit frustrated. He wipes another tear away from your cheek and then places his hands on your waist.

"Me?" he fakes the question, smiling softly; "Be mine y/n."

Breath gets caught in your throat as he finally says it. It's wrong that you waited for it, it's wrong that your first instinct is to say yes without thinking about it.

"Hyunjin Iー"

"Ooh don't say you don't reciprocate, petal. I know you too well." he interrupts you, his hold a little tighter. Hyunjin tilts his head to the side, few strands of black raven hair following the motion and slightly covering his eyes. He's beautiful now, even more than in any other moment you've ever been with him. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man in the world and he wants you.

Your phone starts ringing. It's a strange moment to realize your ringtone is kind of cringe, cutting the tension weirdly… but you can't laugh, not right now. Both you and Hyunjin know who it is.

He's right. You should put an end to all this and start to think for yourself, about what you really want, need. This is not wrong. To love yourself isn't wrong, and Hyunjin makes you feel like the person you want to be.

"Do you want to pick up?" Hyunjin takes his hand under your chin again and directs it up to make your eyes meet his, gaze frenetic as he tries to not look at your tempting lips. Everything will depend on what you decide now. And you think quickly, under pressure, and you don't know if it's a good idea or not but you shake your head and hold him tighter, hiding again.

"Y/n, please look at me…"

The phone eventually stops ringing and silence overwhelms you when you can hear his fast heartbeat right against your ear. And it's because of you, it's for you, your heart starts to adapt to his and you almost feel pain in your chest. It's too much, too much…

Ah, that's it.

You get on your tiptoes to pull him down by his collar and make your lips crash together.

Hyunjin drags you towards him as if you kissed thousands of times before, immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth as you grant him access, making it run along yours. You hold his shoulders trying to search for your lost balance and he's quick to walk you towards his bedroom, he isn't even slightly hesitant.

The desperate sighs you two let out add into the sound of your first kiss; it's a relief, something you didn't imagine to need so badly. Hyunjin pushes you further into the room until your legs meet the mattress and you fall on it guided by him, a knee starting to press beside you as he cradles on the bed on top of you. He can't stop kissing you.

Hyunjin clumsily reaches the lamp on the nightstand to turn it on and oh, oh if this is even better than any fantasy he's ever had… seeing you panting with that flustered expression, your legs already crossing beneath him, jumper half lifted up, your hair all disheveled since you quickly reached for your clip and threw it somewhere in the room. You just look breathtaking in his eyes, even more than any other moment he's ever thought about it. He has to let you know. You didn't think he'd turn on the light but maybe you can put aside your shyness for once if it means having this type of gaze reserved to you.

Your hands try to reach his shirt to pull him out of his trance and he resumes his kissing, hands flying on your sides as they slowly, painfully slowly slide down until he's hooking your pants. Hyunjin lowers down to press chaste kisses on the little part of your cleavage that is exposed, going down to your stomach, then your belly, until he darts his tongue out to lick a stripe just above your groin, leaving a longer kiss there while he proceeds to undress you.

The way you feel embarrassed when you remember you're wearing plain, white cotton panties… but it's honestly sending him haywire. The fact that you didn't expect to end up like this, a confirmation that you didn't plan anything to happen, it's making Hyunjin even harder in his confines. You're so wet your juices dampened the fabric, making it almost transparent, and he sighs at the faint outline of your cunt now puffy and pulsing… and he still has to touch you properly.

Hyunjin is honestly the same. You can't see it but waves of excitement run over him so violently he physically trembles and his legs give in from time to time.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't dare to come back to him…” it's whisperes, almost as if he's accidentally thinking out loud but it makes you clench. Hyunjin's fingers start to tease you on top of the fabric, seeing the wet patch getting larger and larger. You can't believe this part of him exists… how many things do you still have to learn about him?

Hyunjin keeps on touching you there but this time he starts flicking, snapping his fingers where you're most sensitive, the tingles that start to make you jolt are strong and they make your breath sharp.

“H-Hyunjin…” your stuttering voice slightly higher as you call for him, he rolls his eyes back.

“Hyunjin please…” you can't help but pant, wrapping your hand around his forearm to try and make him slow down. Is this what those stupid magazines talked about? That sex feels better when you do it with someone you love? So fucking true.

Hyunjin feels on cloud nine. He starts paying attention on your neck tenderly but still with open-mouthed kisses as his fingers subtly slide your panties to the side. “Yeah petal, let me hear you, let me…” his words get lost as he concentrates. Ah, it's uncomfy for him. Hyunjin lifts your legs and carelessly slides your underwear off with a hiss, his eyes closing like they've been blinded by the vision of the Virgin Mary for a second, then maniacally staring at your bare cunt, digits caressing your wet folds mere seconds before plunging into your entrance.

You can only let out a choked moan and push your head back onto his soft cushions, that smells just like him. You're completely surrounded by his presence when his scent is all around you, his fingers move smoothly to work you open and his mouth is now latched around your nipple, his forehead pushing your jumper further up. When the hell did he…

“Is it good?” his voice displaying signs of fatigue, urgency and need buried deep inside him. You know his fingers are long but God if they can reach otherworldly places. It's not the in-and-out motion but the brushing of your g-spot that makes your legs close around his sides and poke his ribcage with your knees; he doesn't mind, your tits keep him occupied enough to make him mindlessly keep going. Hyunjin decides that prefers your chest covered in love marks over any art piece he's ever seen these past years, so nothing can disturb his work in progress. Maybe the work itself.

“‘S good Hyunie, Hyun…” it's difficult to breathe, it's difficult to think straight as the bumps of his fingers touch your insides so precisely, as if you've always done this and he already knew your body by memory.

“Did his fingers ever make you feel like this? Hm?”

The question makes you sigh along with a moan. You shake your head.

“Did he ever kiss you like I do?” and Hyunjin kisses you again as the movement of his fingers fastens. His teeth catch your bottom lip and his tongue slides against yours before he sucks it, drool making it shine where you two meet; passionate and euphoric, it feels like experimenting fireworks. You follow his lips when he detaches, but he just smiles and starts pressing his thumb on your bare clit. “Tell me, petal.”

“N-no…”

Hyunjin feels it, the way you start clenching around him, hard. He almost can't move anymore. So he whispers, just above the squelching of his palm spreading your wetness.

“Wanna go to Heaven with me, y/n?”

How, how can you say no? You need Hyunjin, even more than oxygen right now, he already has you completely. Your hands hurry on the button somehow miraculously keeping his pants together, and you reach his zip and pull the fly, that struggles to slide down ー he's too full.

“Wanna try how a real man makes you feel?”

You nod almost too eagerly and he chuckles within a whiffle. Hyunjin deprives you of his fingers despite your whines of protest and spreads your juices all over his face, tongue swirling on his hand. A low groan comes out from him, his touch moving to your hips where he squeezes, plush skin bending under his grip. It's all in contrast with the look in his eyes as he stares at your face, your reactions, as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

You're so distracted that when you feel something poke your inner thigh you gasp, and can only stare… his cock springs free from his confines altogether, long, slim and leaking, underside vein pulsating under the pads of his fingers as he pumps himself few times, precum dripping on your groin. Hyunjin's eyebrows are knitted together as he grinds between your legs, his still sticky hand moving your lower body closer so that he lifts you back up to wrap his arms around you, hugging you ever so gently.

His full lips kiss your cleavage and he curses under his breath because of his choice to not take all your clothes off but there's not much time anymore. You close your fists on his shirt, the lines of the fabric changing their shape under your hold while you wait for him, subtly writhing impatiently.

“Hyun please hurry…” not once in your life you've been this desperate for a man to fuck you. It's not because of the wait, not because you're horny, it's just that it's Hyunjin.

“Say it.” his eyes are darker, but they shine with the yellow-ish light in the room. He clears your forehead by adjusting your hair away.

You know what he's doing and it's nothing different from what you did before, in the living room, so you're more than willing to satisfy his request. You try to regain a bit of composure and steady your breath before speaking up, his head twitching together with every movement of yours.

"I want you, Hyunjin. I want you, please.”

A big bright smile spreads on his face as his head drops low, in disbelief. Hyunjin didn't imagine those words would have such a strong effect on him but here he is, blushing and trying to hold back a giggle. When he looks back at you he's serious again, eyes piercing into yours.

“I'm going in, hm? I wanna hear you scream my name through it all. Is that clear petal?”

What you'd give to hear him call you petal until the end of time, he says it and it's like dripping honey, he says it and you melt. The warm pool of pleasure in your belly tightens again as you say a shaky “yes”. You're his delicate, fragile petal.

His tip rests just before your entrance for a second while he takes a deep breath, breaching you gently. It's not a big stretch but his veins are already making your eyelids flutter and your lips part. Inch by inch, Hyunjin makes sure you feel his cock going deep, concern showing on your features as he doesn't come to an halt. He does, eventually, but the time he took to do it seemed eternal. “Oh my- Hyunie-”

“Bet my dick feels better than his,” he smirks between the kisses he's leaving under your jawline, “I bet mine's longer too.”

His comments only add fuel to the fire. He's bigger, he's better, the curve of his cock lands exactly on the spot that makes you black out. As you remember that you're technically still in a relationship your phone rings again. It's a distant sound, it's in another room, covered by yours and Hyunjin's sighs and moans, but he hears it too. Hyunjin stops every movement, hips against yours as he's fully inside you. He lifts himself up just enough to check on you. You look at him too.

You don't exchange any word, there's no need to, because you both arch your lips upwards and meet mid-air for another kiss, tender but messy as he moves backwards to get a starting point to his thrusts. The ringtone eventually dies making room to the faint dripping of the rain outside.

You feel warm, squeezing his cock just right and he's sure he will never let you go, never let you change your mind.

“Pussy ‘s so tight petal, was made for me, ‘m sure,” and he starts moving with consistency, picking up a pleasant rhythm, “you're so fucking perfect.”

His necklace is cold against your skin as he keeps on holding you flush against him, as well as your rings leaving icy lines on his back when your hands slip under his shirt and hold onto his shoulder blades. Hyunjin throbs inside you, drawing loud moans out of you that someone will for sure complain about. He thrusts harder, faster, every second that passes and you can only call for his name, yours being whispered by him against your skin making you shiver.

“Waited so long, so fucking long-” a guttural sound interrupting him, “since that time at the club, wanted to make you mine.” he mumbles, words hardly making sense but you decipher them anyway and when you realize what he's talking about the confused memories of it flood your mind. You, swaying your hips in front of him, grinding your ass on his crotch following the music; Hyunjin's hands right under your breasts guiding you together with him, his breath fanning on your neck, drying your tears completely as those three drinks made your head light enough to not care about any problem you complained about minutes before. It was just you and Hyunjin, all this would've happened sooner if a series of coincidences didn't happen.

“You would've let me take you in the bathroom, isn't that right?” Hyunjin asks, not losing concentration even for a second. “I wanted to bring you here, and fuck the sadness away. Every time, y/n, I wanted to tell you to forget him and be with me.”

You feel him stretch his arm between your bodies, and you feel your swollen bud stimulated again, you both whine against each other.

“‘M with you now Hyunie, want only you, ‘m yours babe.”

He's so fast now, the snapping of his hips moving you up and down the mattress… your words affect him on a visceral level.

“I choose you, I'll leave him for you-”

“Fuck!” he's close, so, so close and your walls tightening more and more and more are making him go crazy. Little beads of sweat decorate his forehead, a caramel-like smell coming from him as the crown of his head dampens and some hair stick to his forehead.

His tip keeps abusing your sweet spot, the kiss you share is feverish, your nails dig into his skin and his hold bruises your soft one. Both your bellies contract and before you can process it you're coming, white pois pattern creating over your blinding vision. You say his name out loud, dragging it together with your last moan as the hardest orgasm ever washes over you. Hyunjin pulls out just in time, copious white ropes of cum landing on your stomach like dripping art. Hyunjin loses track of space and time for a few moments as he comes down from his high, then takes you close to him when he lays next to you. Your heavy breath fills every other sound in your ears as you get comfortable hiding in his muscular chest. Your body spasms, all energy left your body already and your chest rises and falls frantically.

Hyunjin caresses your cheek and kisses your hair. It's peaceful. You just had sex with your boyfriend's best friend and it feels peaceful. It starts to feel a bit cold so he grabs the soft sheets near him and covers both of you.

“When will you tell him, petal?”

The question floats in the air for a while. You start playing with his necklace, making it dance between your fingers. He starts to worry a bit, when you don't answer him, but he decides to be patient, like always.

“After we eat something, I'll send him a text.” you seem resolute, and he's convinced. “Can I stay here tonight?”

He's a bit taken aback, his eyes narrowing in surprise: “Wasn't it obvious? You'll stay here from now on anyway.” and he says it so naturally, you think he's thought about this moment a lot… it makes you smile.

Hyunjin rolls to the side briefly, taking some tissues to wipe yours and his stomach since his sticky cum was still there, and kisses the tip of your nose adjusting your jumper back to its original place before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his phone, after finally freeing himself of his shirt. His back is slender yet defined, long, his spine making a beautiful curve. Your eyes travel from his nape to his glutes, the ones of a dancer. There's a doubt still in the back of your mind, you need to make it disappear.

“Are you… sad, that you can't be friends with him anymore?”

He doesn't even bother looking at you to answer, he keeps scrolling on the delivery app searching for something you may want to eat, the words he's about to say seeming obvious to him.

“We haven't been friends for a while already. I understood he's not the guy I met years ago, he changed, and I don't like to be around him anymore. Don't worry petal, it's not entirely because of you, I already wanted to part from him but you came into our lives so I endured it some more to stay with you… and it was worth it.” one of his hands shifts position behind him and taps the covers to signal for you to hold it. Your fingers interlace and he looks at you over his shoulder, slowly turning around, his body twisting slightly as he leans back again and kisses you sweetly yet still with some need.

Your breath is now steady, you're relaxed and it feels like Heaven, just like he promised.

"Pizza?"

You giggle and he follows.

“I love you y/n. I love you.”

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 1 year

Text

Imagine Katakuri getting a crush on you and Big mom arranging a marriage between you two

Big Mom: -takuri... Katakuri!

Katakuri: *snaps out of his day dream* Oh yes, Mama

Big Mom: where were you, you've been distracted during meetings for days.

Katakuri: It's nothing, sorry mama, it won't happen again. I have some paper work to attend to, may I please be excused?

Big Mom: yes.

Daifuku: *soon as Katakuri leaves* I believe he's fallen in love, Mama.

Big Mom: Ehh, with whom?

Perospero: With (y/n), they attended your last tea party with their father, who owns the largest vanilla orchard in the world.

Big Mom: really? Are they single?

Daifuku: I ... I'm not sure, Mama.

Big Mom: I'll look into it then, in the meantime look after your brother, make sure he keeps up with his work.

Perospero and Daifuku: Yes Mama.

Daifuku: *once Big Mom is out of ear shot* Did we just sign Katakuri up to get married.

Persopero: Probably, you know how mama is about securing ingredients for sweets. And unfortunately for our dear brother, vanilla is found in most sweets, from angel food cake to zingers.

Daifuku: but what if (y/n)'s father doesn't agree to join and marry of his only child?

Persopero: If that happens Mama will do a hostile take over, and either marry or give (y/) to Katakuri.

Later at Big Mom's residence

Katakuri: *arrives for a meeting only to find you in the conference room* Oh, what are you doing here?

You: My father has agreed to join your pirate group, and to marry me off into your family.

Katakuri: * sits next to you* ... Do you know who you'll be marrying?

You: not yet, but that's what this meeting is about.

Katakuri: *knows his mother only invites the child she wants to marry off to these meetings but doesn't want to scare you* no mater who you marry, I'll make sure you're taken care of and have everything your heart desires.

You: *gives him a weak smile* Thank you, Kata, you wouldn't believe relieved I am to hear that.

Katakuri: *extends his hand for you to hold* Mama, should be here soon.

You: *takes his hand and squeezes it with trembling hands*

Katakuri: You're shaking.

You: I've... just never not been under my father's protection, and I'm scared.... but I do feel better with you here with me.

Katakuri: *rubs the back of your hand with his thumb* Really? Even though we've only met a handful of times in the part?

Big Mom: *kicks open the door* (y/n)! I'm so glad you could come... Oh, I see you've already met your betrothed.

Katakuri: Me!?

Big Mom: *glared* You like them, don't you?

Katakuri: *blushes* mama! Please let's not embarrass me in front of our guest.

Big Mom: mmmr, very well, since you two are already getting acquainted I'll leave you to it. ... Oh, by the way the wedding is in five days. *Leaves*

Katakuri: Five days until we're married... *flops back into his chair and is lost in thought, coming to grips with the fact that he is to be married.*

You: ... I'm sorry about this I don't know what my father was thinking offering me up like this.

Katakuri: He didn't offer you up, Mama offered me up first. Mainly to gain your father's orchard, but that is beside the point. If there is anything I can do, please let me know. You probably won't be moved into my house until after the wedding, but I can have my sisters look after you.

You: You mean you won't be staying with me?

Katakuri: *takes your hands into his and presses them to his lips through his scarf* No, but only because I need to work double time, so you can have me all to yourself during our honeymoon.

You: ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠☉⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠☉⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

Katakuri: *realizes how that sounded* Not that we have to do anything during our honeymoon that you don't want.... I'm going to go start on my work, I'll have Brûlée come and get you settled into your rooms, in the meantime please wait here.

You: Okay, and for the record, I look forward to... to having you all to myself during our honeymoon, if you catch my drift.

Katakuri: ⁠ ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁄⁠ロ⁠⁄⁠•⁄⁠ ⁠'⁄⁠)⁠⁄

List of Up-and-coming works

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#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #katakuri x reader #charlotte katakuri #charlotte katakuri x reader #big mom #linlin #big mom pirates #charlotte daifuku #charlotte perospero #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #10/2/23 #no beta we die like men

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munsster · 1 month

Text

lost in the woods

A/N: i literally couldnt resist getting my grubby hands on this brainrot song (gif creds: @longestwave)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: You, the party, and Steve attend an annual winter festival while he's feeling utterly lost in the woods. 3.7k words

Warnings: fluff, everything is corny xoxo, slight angst/anxiety/embarrassment, pet names (sweetheart, honey), flashback, general party shenanigans, GODAWFUL PINING, kissing

Robin had slapped a flyer for Tippecanoe’s First Annual Winter Festival on the counter, and Steve knew he had to be there with you somehow. He just had to make it subtle enough not to seem desperate but obvious enough that you knew he wanted you there. Which was easier than he predicted when he handed the flyer to Dustin and his eyes lit up at the idea of a real festival with live music and gingerbread and carnival games and sledding.

So you and Steve caravanned the children and Robin in your cars. Of course, driving separately was not Steve's ideal situation as he loves having you in his passenger seat picking the music and humming softly to yourself. But you had suggested it since there were more bodies than could fit in your station wagon. Robin had begged to differ, insisting there was always more space with a nod to the trunk, which made you giggle and subsequently made Steve absolutely melt. He didn't usually have the patience for her antics, but he would do anything to hear you laugh even if it meant contorting himself into your trunk.

However, he knows that's not the only reason you suggested separate cars with separate drivers. Things had been tense since the last time he saw you, and the guilt weighs on him like a cold metal barbell crushing his chest.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Steve huffs, standing and backing away, "I don't know what I'm doing. I should go!"

He hadn't planned on rushing out of your house and into the snow without any of his belongings, but that's how it happened. It's the subject of most of his nightmares. The look on your face and the blaring sound the door made when it slammed. He had stood on your porch wringing his hands and exhaling puffs of hot air when he finally decided to go through with his running away.

But now he felt completely lost. And he could tell he was losing you, too.

Robin had thoroughly scolded him when he called her that night, telling him he's an idiot for walking out on you when you two were clearly and stupidly in love. He agreed and wallowed in self pity, listening to sappy love songs and soft rock until he eventually fell asleep.

This festival was his chance to make apologize. To fall for you all over again. If only he could get you alone without the squeaky voices of a handful of pestering teens.

El and Max drag you and Robin toward the steep hill carved out for sledding, and Steve follows with the group of boys hot on his trail. They coo taunting endearments at him, urging him to share a sled with you. Dustin hollers something or other about his probably fake girlfriend Suzie and how he officially has more game than Steve.

You look back at him sweetly and mouth 'sorry' before you plop down onto your sled. For all the trouble, you mean. You know the kids would be much calmer if they knew Steve didn't actually want you. And he clearly doesn't after the other night. And the way he seems so nonchalant. He shakes his head and mouths 'don't worry about it' as he shoves his jittery hands in his pockets. The wind whips at his hot face and he wishes he'd brought a scarf. Or some dignity.

"You have to win something for her," Lucas says once they reach the bottom of the hill, and Steve is hit with the realization that all of these twerps somehow got girlfriends before him. Although, Dustin's status is still questionable. He at least has the audacity to lie about his romantic endeavors.

"Yeah," Max agrees, pointing to the tip-a-jug stand lined with winter themed plushies, "Girls love stuffed animals. Plus, winning will be an excellent show of your strength."

"And generosity! The ladies love a charitable man," Mike adds. Steve rolls his eyes, worried you'll hear them from where you walk just a few paces ahead with Will and El. But maybe they have a point.

"I don't need advice from schoolchildren."

"You mean romantically successful schoolchildren!" Dustin chirps.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose while they beg him to win you something good. Finally, he gives in, sifting a few singles from his wallet. Max calls you over to watch Steve win, and you chuckle weakly, knowing they forced him into it somehow.

The vendor hands him a basket of blue bean bags with snowmen painted on them. Steve's heart races when you step up next to him.

"Good luck," you huff. You both know these games are rigged from the moment the cash hits the counter. But he smiles at you and holds one of the bags in his palm. God, somehow you're even prettier with snowflakes in your hair and the warm fairy lights twinkling behind you.

He lasers in on the game, winding up that rubber arm like he's back in little league hoping for a strike out. The first few jugs clatter backwards. Suddenly, the kids are much more invested learning the possibility that he might actually win.

It's down to the final jug, and he takes a deep breath. In all honesty, he's never been this successful in any stupid carnival game. Why he is tonight is a mystery. Maybe next he'll be struck by lightning.

Except, the last bean bag thuds against the side of the apparatus, and the crowd groans. He perches his hands on his hips and bows his head.

"You did pretty good, kid. Why don't you pick one of the medium sized prizes?" The vendor asks, gesturing to the small stuffed animals halfway up the wall.

"Which one do you want, sweetheart?"

He turns back and his eyes lock with yours. He's hoping the kids were right. Maybe you'll be impressed or charmed. Or maybe you'll think he's being vain and trying needlessly to boost his ego. But you glance at him in surprise, eagerly stepping forward and tugging on his sleeve.

"Steve, I can't accept your prize. You won it fair and square."

"They begged me to play. I only did it because I love showing off," he teases, and it makes you giggle. Hallelujah. You point to the small polar bear plush, and the vendor hands it to you. Steve's heart flutters when you accept the bear so tenderly and thank him like you're shy. But he's never known you to be bashful. At least, not when it comes to teasing him.

Everyone, including Robin, coos and hoots and hollers at the two of you basking in the soft carnival game light. You whip around and tell them to shush.

"Quit it, I'm not afraid to send you all home right now," Steve says, pointing an accusatory finger. You hide your grin behind your plush when his hair bounces from his intensity.

The kids grumble, and Dustin says, "Yes, mom and dad," begrudgingly but with a shit eating grin on his face. It makes Steve blush more than it should.

You suggest stopping for gingerbread-flavored funnel cake and hot apple cider and face a hoard of suddenly starving children.

Dustin sighs dramatically, catching your attention. "This night is so beautiful, don't you think, Steve?"

"Careful, Henderson, I'm your ride home," Steve says.

"What? I’m just saying it would be a shame to waste such a romantic night." Dustin tries his hardest to wink subtly. "If only it weren't for Brad—"

"No, she dumped Brad," El helpfully suggests. The news lights up their eyes, and they bounce around excitedly.

"Who raised these kids?" Steve huffs, eyebrows raised and cringing at their blatant attempts at match making.

You roll your eyes, announcing, "You guys, Steve has more important things to worry about than a girlfriend."

Steve looks at you. You're trying to settle them down, but all it does is shatter his heart and make him their target. He knows it's in good fun and all but the wobble in your voice makes his knees buckle and his throat tighten. He needs to fix this and fast if he wants any chance at reconciliation.

Max stares him down. "What did you do?"

"Come on, Steve the King," Lucas sighs, "You're supposed to be working with us, not against us!"

Steve shakes his head and turns away from the slander. You follow his lead. You're staring straight ahead, pretending to look at the menu while he fiddles with the hem of his sleeve.

Then, El notices a small mistletoe hanging from the edge of the canopy. The kids giggle and nudge each other, and Robin's eyes go wide realizing the front of the line crosses through its path. And you and Steve are standing side by side.

So just as the line shuffles forward, Robin elbows her way between the two of you, earning a hearty grumble from Steve.

"Sorry, I—uh"—solid gameplan, Robin—"Lovely weather we're having."

You chuckle and look up at the way the snow seems to hover midair. Little specks of white illuminated by the festivities with a backdrop of darkness and starlight.

"Yeah, I guess so," you hum. Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a sour look when he spots the mistletoe dangling above the two of you.

"Oh, gosh! Would you look at that," Robin chirps, "Mistletoe! You know what that means."

"You cut the line just so you could kiss me?" you say, smile creeping onto your face. She shrugs, and you hold her jaw while you lean in and peck her cheek. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, but Robin is stirred, her cheeks blooming a rosy pink from more than just the cold.

"Satisfied?"

Robin nods, tugging on her hat and warbling about checking out the ice sculptures and how she'd be back in a second. Steve sheepishly reclaims his spot beside you.

"You want one, too?" you tease. His heart flutters considering it, but his silence has you recoiling and turning away. "Sorry. Just... kidding."

Of course, he wants to kiss you. And he doesn't want it to be an accident or a mistake or a regret. He's already messed up once, and the thought of messing it up with you again hurts like an icicle to the heart.

The kids bound towards the huge tree sprouting from the center of the fair grounds. An announcement had called for the first annual tree lighting at nine, and crowds had flocked to the base of the looming tree. Not Steve, though. He lingers just behind you while you order the funnel cake. He's a little embarrassed when you turn back around holding the plate to find yourselves deserted by your group.

"Where'd everyone go?"

"Distracted by the lights, I guess," he huffs, feeling the pang in his chest when you nod wearily. "Wanna sit down? I saw an open bench back there."

You grab an extra fork and follow him to the bench seated along the edge of the grounds. There's a perfect view of the grand tree with a couple minutes to spare. The bench is snug enough, your thigh pressed to his. It reminds you of that night in your living room and the way he looked at you like he really cared. Like he could have actually wanted you. Honestly, you think, who was he kidding.

But it's second nature the way you hand him a fork.

"Mmm, tastes like..." he hums while trying to decipher the distinct flavor but all he can muster is cinnamon and sugar.

"Gingerbread?" you tease. He ducks his head, grinning and reaching for another bite.

"That would make sense."

You laugh when powdered sugar kisses the tip of his nose. He's confused why you're staring at him like that and rubs his sleeve across his mouth, which makes you laugh harder.

"What?"

You try and wipe it way but miss by a long shot, swiping at his chin through your giggle fit. He finally wipes the tip of his nose. You take a deep breath in, calming your laughter.

"Sweetheart, what is it? What's on my face?"

"You got it." You shake your head. "Just some powdered sugar."

"All that for a little sugar," he teases, grinning from ear to ear when you stifle a laugh. You settle into the bench and he drapes his arm long the back of it. He likes having you so close. It makes him feel foolish and ecstatic and boyish. And he doesn't think he's ever felt so warm before.

You're about to say something when the tree lights up. A million tiny bulbs of green and red and yellow lead to the shining star on top. It illuminates his face, and you can really see the glimmer reflected in his brown eyes. Carolers sing holy night across the festival, but you can still hear them loud and clear. You want to tell Steve he's everything. You would if you could be sure it wouldn't scare him away. People clap and whistle. You're conflicted.

Is this how he felt before he ran away?

"I owe you an apology," he blurts. He turns to face you to find you're already looking him dead in the eyes. His stomach twists because that means it's real and he's not daydreaming. The hope makes him nervous.

You shake your head.

"No, Steve, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should apologize. I still have all the blankets you left, and it's the middle of winter."

"Sweetheart, please, I'm the one who ran out on you," he huffs, "I was being a coward. I've liked you for so long, and I wanted to kiss you, and I know the kids are usually full of shit—and I can't believe I'm saying this—but they're right. I belong to you. I mean it, I'm yours. And as cheesy as it sounds, without you... I feel lost."

The air between you feels thick enough to carve with a butter knife. It's not snowing anymore, but still, something stirs and shimmers and wavers as his confession sets in. It gets a little harder to breathe and he can almost feel the altitude sickness from the flicker in your eye. Though, shortness of breath is nothing compared to the way you make him feel on top of the world with just a glance.

His heart sinks when you tear up and look away.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning in when you desperately press your mittens to your cheeks.

"Sorry. Sorry." You tilt your head back and squint your eyes shut to stop the hot flow of tears.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to make you cry," he says softly when you cover your face and chuckle dryly.

"I know. I just feel like..." you huff, feeling a little silly for crying when Steve rubs your back like he means every word he said. Like he's really sorry and all he wants is you. "It was never the right time for us."

He can't help the way his heart crumbles to pieces like forgotten pastry between your skilled fingers. You're trying not to cry, and it's his fault. You take a deep breath. He thinks he would buy you all the sweet things in the world to make you happy. Even if it meant you didn't need him anymore. It would be enough to know he could do something good for you.

Then you turn to him, and he's doe eyed and handsome and hopeful.

You whisper, "But, now—"

Suddenly, the hoard returns, stampeding and complaining about the cold and how Robin is flirting with the pretty exhibit curator and the tree lighting was so cool but now El wants to take pictures with her new camera and are you gonna eat that? Steve's still hanging onto your every word over the ruckus. Now?

You offer them the rest of the funnel cake which Mike and Dustin devour in seconds. You give Will your scarf when he shivers, and Steve offers his gloves to Lucas who gives one to Max so he can hold her other hand.

"Hey, remember when I told you you'd be cold?" you tease Will who shrugs shyly and Lucas who grumbles, squeezing Max's hand.

"But why would they wear proper clothing when they know you're too caring to refuse?" Max says, cocking a brow. You squint at her.

"Are you calling me a pushover?"

She giggles and kisses your cheek before skipping away with Lucas and shouting, "Only because I love you!"

El hooks her arm in yours and tugs you towards the string light tunnel near the exit. You glance back at Steve who listens to Dustin talk about all the old couples watching the tree lighting ceremony. He makes a point to tell Steve he'd like to come back every year.

Steve looks to you and agrees.

You think El's trying to win the record for most polaroids taken in ten seconds. She takes a few of Max and Lucas and a couple of all of the boys together. She's shouting at them to behave when you wander off towards Steve.

Your knuckles brush his, and you startle, but he's already holding your soft, gloved hand and biting back a grin. You tug him towards you and face him with a fierce look in your eye.

"Quit putting the moves on me, Harrington," you tease, but he sweeps your hair out of your face anyway. Oh, and he looks like he wants to kiss you. Just like before. Only this time, he's not going to run away. And you can tell when he gently cradles your neck that he’s gonna stick around for a long time.

But just as he leans in, a flash goes off and you look straight into El’s lens as the camera clacks and zips. You quickly let go of Steve’s hand and huff out a laugh when one of the kids wolf whistles. Steve chuckles and dips in to kiss your cheek. El skips over and hands you the polaroid, telling you to shake it until it develops.

Once it does, you’re already headed back to the parking lot. You hand it to Steve, and his face lights up.

The light tunnel frames the picture like a halo. Your eyes are wide, staring into the camera while the flash shines on your shocked face. But he’s still looking at you and waiting for his kiss, holding your face with your mitten tucked into his cold hand. You think he looks handsome. He knows that’s because he’s lovesick, and it shows

“I hope you know I’m keeping this,” he says, pinching the corner like it’ll fly away in a snow flurry. You giggle.

“Fine, but I want it on weekends.”

“Deal,” he teases. He plops into his driver’s seat, tucking the polaroid into his sun visor. You lean down and perch your forearms on the window.

“Drive safe, Stevie,” you whisper, glancing at his sweet smile and flushed face.

“I want to kiss you.”

You raise your eyebrows and peek into the back seat where Will, El, and Max giggle. And then to where Dustin is slumped in the passenger’s seat, his forehead rested against the glass.

“Dustin is gonna be furious when he finds out you said that, and he wasn’t awake to witness it,” you hum, but Steve couldn’t care less with you so close to him.

“Maybe it’ll teach him to mind his own damn business.” Steve says it so casually, it makes you smile.

“His meddling isn’t all bad,” you shrug, “It brought us together.”

Well, shit, Steve thinks. He’s never gonna hear the end of it from the kid.

“In that case, I owe him one,” he says, out of focus when you lean further into the car. “Or a couple.”

You smile against his mouth and he hums lowly. It’s gentle. Unhurried. Like it could stop the world from turning if only for a second. If the festival were any quieter, your heartbeats would be audible. You pull away with a small grin and smooth down the collar of his jacket. He holds your wrist, fingers lazily wrapping around the cuff of your mitten to keep your hand close to his chest.

Max pokes Dustin’s shoulder and he wakes with a loud startle. He orients himself to find the both of you staring back at him.

“What was that for? What did I miss?” he whines with a furrowed brow. Max rolls her eyes, tugging her headphones on.

“Dude,” she huffs. El giggles, shaking her head, and Will waves when you stand back from the window.

You pat Steve’s shoulder and say, “Seriously, please be careful. It’s slippery.”

Steve nods, giving you a little salute. You smile. He blushes.

“You, too, honey,” he coos, hoping you’ll linger by his window just a little longer. But Dustin snaps his fingers impatiently.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he says, already nodding off again. You chuckle.

“I’ll follow you out,” you say with a nod, “Nighty night, Dusty.”

Dustin swats away the tease with a, “Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Steve cocks a brow and you laugh, shrugging. His engine revs to life and you back away further with a cute little wave when his headlights flicker on. He watches you open your car door and disappear inside before slowly creeping out of the parking spot. You shuck your mittens and set them in the cupholder, Robin grinning from beside you the entire time.

“We saw everything,” she says. Mike and Lucas share a knowing glance in the backseat, and you hold up one finger.

“Not a word.”

But you smile the whole way home.

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slayfics · 4 months

Text

Katsuki and Hitoshi fight over you.

Warnings: characters aged up, NSFW themes, angst

1k words

Explosions went off atop the building's roof as Katsuki continued to detonate his quirk. He thought it was his lucky day to run into Hitoshi. Until he realized what this fight would consist of.

Unable to expel his frustration in his usual insults and vile comments, due to Hitoshi’s quirk, Katsuki focused on setting off explosions.

Yet, Hitoshi had come a long way since his time at UA. Expertly bouncing around and using the capture scarf to swing and avoid the explosions.

Katsuki had wanted to knock the lights out of Hitoshi’s eyes for some time now. Ever since he found out about you two. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wrap his mind around you giving a hero like Hitoshi the time of day. What did you see in him?

So, when he ran into the brainwashing hero, he thought his wish was finally granted. However, now amid a spar with Hitoshi, the bitter realization sat in. He wouldn’t be able to say all the nasty words he saved up for the hero.

He wasn't able to tell Hitoshi that he wasn't a worthy enough hero to be with you. That he was a pathetic punk boy, Grimace-looking, Eeyore mother fucker. If he said any of the things he desperately wanted to, Hitoshi would brainwash him, and the fight would be over. Katsuki let out a huff of air and another explosion that Hitoshi dodged.

"We can talk like adults instead," Hitoshi said sliding across the roof.

Katsuki ignored Hitoshi's pleas and came at him with another attack that Hitoshi barely evaded.

"Trust me Bakugo, you don't want to do this," Hitoshi warned him. Katsuki's eyes flashed with fire, challenging Hitoshi. Despite Katsuki's continued silence, Hitoshi could understand his declaration of war clearly, and he wasn't lucky enough to dodge the next attack. Katsuki landed a blast on Hitoshi sending him flying and knocking against the roof railing.

"Fine, have it your way," Hitoshi said recovering from the blast and pulling on the railing to stand up. Finally, being pushed to his breaking point, Hitoshi decided to fight back. The only difference is that Katsuki's quirk worked with blunt power, while Hitoshi's focused on a psychological level. Hitoshi only had to break Katsuki into saying something, and he wasn't afraid to play dirty.

Hitoshi turned the dials on his voice modulator as Katsuki prepared his next blast.

"I want you to hear how she sounds for me," Hitoshi said, turning one last dial on his mask, as Katsuki lunged at him again.

That's when it happened, the sound that took the breath out of Katsuki's lungs. Your moans came from Hitoshi's mask. They were sweet and sexy as hell; the problem was you were moaning Hitoshi's name.

Katsuki fumbled for just a moment letting go of his blast, giving Hitoshi plenty of time to avoid it. Your moans came louder and faster from Hitoshi's mask, "Toshi... Toshi... Toshi~"

Katsuki bit his tongue biting back curses and rage, blood rushed through his mouth. The taste of copper dripped down his throat from the deep cut now on his tongue.

This was just an imitation of your voice. Yet, it sounded so real, and Katsuki knew it had to be true. Hitoshi had to have heard your moans himself to imitate you so perfectly. Worse. It meant he heard them more than once. Studied them.

Your moans increased to what Katsuki recognized so perfectly to be you reaching your climax, and it all came crashing down on him. You had cum for Hitoshi.

Katsuki lets out another blast, it's strong, too strong. Hitoshi barely gets out of the way. Katsuki huffs, fists clench. What's worse is you sound so fucking hot, and he can't help but feel the heat that runs through his body at hearing you again.

"We can stop this," Hitoshi offers, but Katsuki's frustration peaks, as more blasts fly. Katsuki's wrath and jealousy start to boil over into something he doesn't recognize.

Hopelessness.

Someone else is pleasuring you and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. The scene that flashes in Katsuki's mind makes his stomach sick. He can see the lavender-haired bastard on top of you, thrusting into your heat and the fucked-out expression on your face.

So much resentment and nowhere to put it, not even a damn word he can say for himself without losing this spar. He feels the lump in his throat form, and he can't stop it. His tongue almost bit in half, the tears finally form and cascade down his face.

Hitoshi notices this and gives Katsuki one last chance, "I'll stop if you do."

Katsuki keeps going, but his blasts aren't the same now. There is less passion behind them. It's sad to watch. Hitoshi barely has to dodge anymore. Katsuki's knees are weak, and his movements are slow and shaky.

"Not giving up, yet? Fine, hear what she said about you," Hitoshi speaks, changing his mask once more to imitate your voice.

Your voice breaks through Hitoshi's mask again. This time it’s your ugly cry that Katsuki knows so well. You're gasping for air as the words pour out, and it’s so clear it sounds as if you’re really here, “I loved him, but it wasn’t enough. He was always going to choose to be number one over me,” your voice cries and hiccups.

You had cried to Hitoshi about how Katsuki failed you, and now this was the outcome. Then comes the image in Katsuki’s mind, Hitoshi has his arms wrapped around you comforting you through your tears. Katsuki wants to rip you out of Hitoshi's arms, but he can’t because he drove you there.

Katsuki's knees give in, and he collapses to the floor. Gasping for air, his body racked with panic, fire extinguished. Taking rapid shallow breaths, he tries to regain himself.

Hitoshi walks over to the man he's brought to his knees without laying a finger on him.

"You done? Maybe next time we can talk like adults," Hitoshi mocks. Then departs, leaving the blond hero alone on the roof.

sinners: @izarosf1833 @stoned-anime-babe @lees-chaotic-brain @lunathewonyoungstan @sebsvertigo @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @peachsukii @reneinii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

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gyuscoquetteribbon · 6 months

Text

^᪲᪲᪲ what the world has to offer

SYNOPSIS: you were supposed to be home about thirty minutes ago. mingyu doesn't know why you aren't home yet and all his calls are left unanswered and his texts, delivered, but not read.

PAIRING: mingyu x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff, established relationship

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

notes: this is pretty self indulgent y'all also also omg first written piece that i've posted for the world to see in 4 years???? also im not very satisfied with how i ended this so my bad y'all but hopefully i get to write more in the coming weeks !!

hpr btw

'i'm close by, i'll be there in five mins !!!'

going by your last text, you should've been home about thirty minutes ago. needless to say, mingyu was beyond worried, pacing back and forth in your shared kitchen while he also he kept an eye on the boiling pasta.

'y/n.'

delivered.

'y/n why aren't you answering my calls???'

delivered, yet again.

delivered, but not read.

mingyu's anxiety, which had picked up upon the ten minute mark, only increased as all his texts were left unopened and unanswered.

the pasta had finally come to a boil. as mingyu turns the stove off, a soft tune fills the otherwise empty house.

his phone was ringing.

mingyu goes to pick his phone up, his speed only picking up when he sees your name illuminating on the phone screen. he attends your call, ready to chide you as he adjusts his phone so that you could see his (rather upset) face.

"y/n, why the fuck won't you—"

"i don't think i'm coming home tonight," you cut him off.

mingyu raises an eyebrow. he knew exactly why you were late the moment he saw you sat, leaning against a wall that looked much like the wall of the entrance to your apartment complex.

you angle your phone towards your lap, and there it was. the reason why you weren't home yet.

laying down cozily on your lap was a sleeping cat, pearly white fur with specks of dust and brown spots. if mingyu was right the stray was probably—

"i think he was abandoned," you pull him away from his thoughts, gently swiping your fingers over the cats ear that was cut at the tip, indicating it was spayed either by a rescue team or its previous owner. your free hand goes to cradle its head as it tips back.

a soft smile falls on mingyu's slightly chapped lips, his eyes gazing at his screen with so much love. he leans closer to the camera. "you don't even look at me with this much love," mingyu jokes, causing you to chuckle softly, "i'll bring him something to eat yeah?"

you nod and allow mingyu to cut the call. a shiver runs down your spine while you wait for your boyfriend to come down to join you. it was a particularly chilly evening. as you wait for mingyu, you watch the cat as its body rises and falls in a gentle rhythm. you had placed your woolen scarf over the cat earlier, when it had fallen asleep, afraid that it might be too cold for him. you sit there, wondering how confused the cat must have felt upon being thrown into the streets to fend for itself after being sheltered for so long. you felt sorry. the world is too cruel, you think to yourself.

"hi," mingyu's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you lift your head to look up at your grinning boyfriend, the scarf wrapped around his neck doesn't hide his sharp canines shining under the dim light of the lamppost.

"hi," you whisper back as mingyu squats down across you. with all the sudden commotion, the cat stirs awake, sleep eyes blinking up at the new figure before him. "he's awake," you note, eyeing the cat cautiously, praying that the presence of another person doesn't scare him.

the cat sits up immediately, the scarf draped over his body, slipping onto the ground. its eyes land on the small tin of cat food which mingyu had bought along. good thing mingyu had bought a bunch of those since you have a habit of feeding strays in your area whenever you come across one.

you loved cats. mingyu knew that much. going out on walks with you almost always meant that you'd both would have to stop somewhere in the side of a road because you came across a stray cat. sometimes, you'd stop mid conversation if you see one, rushing towards it, muttering a soft "look! cat!" mingyu doesn't mind, though.

in fact, it was this quality of yours that made him fall so deeply in love with you. despite the pain the world had given you, love was all you ever gave back. that too with a big grin on your face. when you'd run towards a stray cat mid-conversation, you'd miss the fond smile that'd fall on mingyu's lips. when he'd go shop for groceries, you'd miss the absent-minded smile that'd paint his lips when he'd inevitably walk down the aisle containing pet food. when he'd see you sat beside your potted plant, talking for hours about anything and nothing at all while a slow song plays in the background, you'd miss the way he'd look at you, with hearts in his eyes.

they can hear you. it helps them grow better, you had told him.

once again, you had missed the way he was smiling at you. "or so it seems." a puff of air briefly forms in front of mingyu's mouth as a chuckle escapes his lips. the cat jumps out of your lap and approaches the can of food cautiously, almost as if it'd disappear if he'd look away. gently, mingyu pushes it closer towards the cat, assuring that the food is, in fact, for him.

you sit on your knees, your freezing hands falling on your lap as the cat takes his first few bites, his entire face fitting into the can. when he lifts his head, his overgrown whiskers are coated with minced meat. you and mingyu coo softly as the cat looks up at the two of you with his minced meat clad fur and whiskers.

you laugh, your eyes crinkling at the sides. you sounded so beautiful. music that mingyu wishes was only reserved for his ears; for him to listen to and cherish. but alas, the world knows your name.

"you've taken quite a liking towards him," mingyu points out.

you look at your boyfriend, "i wish we could take him home." an unsaid plea.

mingyu laughs softly, reaching forward to gently pat your head, "i'm free tomorrow. i'll pick you up from work and we both can take him to get vaccinated, alright?" he smiles, mirroring your own beaming smile, "i'm sure bopeul would like a friend or two when we go visit my family when i get a break."

"and, i'm sure dollop would love bopeul too," you say.

mingyu raises a brow, "is that what we're naming him?"

"yes."

"dollop it is then," he smiles, reaching down to gently boop its snout.

you miss the way mingyu smiles at you when you aren't looking. but, you never miss the way he loves you. all the little ways he's shown his love. you've never once had to ask for something. he'd know.

maybe this was what the world had to offer for all the love you've given it.

#seventeen #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen oneshot #fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #mingyu oneshot #mingyu x reader

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radiance1 · 10 months

Text

"One trip to Greece." Vlad paced back and forth. "Just one, single trip, and now he's bloody missing!" Vlad stopped and threw his hands up in both exasperation and irritation.

Danny hummed, taking a bite from a cupcake (baked and provided by Vlad), chewing, then swallowing. "Honestly, I think you should calm down dude, just because he hasn't called you in what...?"

"5 days." Vlad answered quickly, going back to pacing back and forth.

"...Right. Five days." Danny shrugged. "I'm sure he's just, you know." Danny waved his hand in a vague gesture, of what? He wasn't exactly sure. "Enjoying his time so much that he forgot to call you?"

"Listen, Daniel. It's one thing if he doesn't call me, but it's an entirely different thing if the tracker isn't tracking."

Danny paused, slowly dragging his eyes up from his cupcake to stare down Vlad. "...You put a tracker on your mans?"

Vlad turned to Danny, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. "Of course I did, why wouldn't I?" Vlad wrinkled his nose. "Do shut your mouth, I don't need you to accidentally choke on a fly before you help me."

Danny closed his mouth, staying silent for a moment before shrugging and taking another bite of his treat. "And I would help you, why?"

"Would it not be heroic for you to help someone in need?"

"When the person in question is you? No, not really."

Vlad let out a heavy sigh, squeezing in between his eyes before swiftly turning around and walking towards his super computer. "Two baskets full of cupcakes."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"The latest release of Doomed before anyone else."

Danny hummed, and Vlad sighed.

"...And for your two friends as well."

Danny smirked, scarfing the last bit of his cupcake and jumping off the table. "Deal." He over behind Vlad, leaning over his shoulder to look at the screen. "Sooo, where do I need to look?"

"Here." Vlad pointed to a specific location on the map helpfully provided by one of his many satellites. "The last placed recorded before the signal disappeared without warning."

Danny, glancing at Vlad. "You know that it could've just been broken, right?"

"Impossible, the materials it was made from wouldn't let it be destroyed so easily."

Danny shrugged. "Whatever you say I guess."

===

John Constantine, after months of being trapped in another dimension, finally managed to get back to his own.

Although now that he thought of it, he should've given that guy a heads up, or broke up with him before he left, but oh well. Give it a while and the guy will probably move on anyways.

Not like anything big would come out of this.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Me when I still don't know how to write Constantine speak:#How I phrased that sounds like sum weird language.

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notiddygxthgf · 6 months

Text

Boyfriend | Aki Hayakawa

★ pairings: aki x f!reader

★ synopsis: being aki's favorite girl has many perks.

★ a/n: i couldnt stop thinking about boyfie!aki omfg... brainrot.

★ c.w.: fluff, nicknames, smut(ish). no beta we die like... ahem.

1. He's thoughtful!

Aki is notoriously attentive when it comes to his line of work, but nothing compares to how attentive he is when it comes to you and your needs. He can read you like a book. It's just something about those eyes of yours, something about the way you look at him that tells him all that he needs to know about you -- he's got you all figured out.

When it's a party or a work event, he can see your expression a mile away. You would be perched in the corner, anxiously swirling your drink around. He'd reach an arm around you, pulling you close enough that your shoulders would bump into his chest. "Do you want to leave?" He'd ask. And how could you refuse -- when he made it sound so tempting?

He'll remember little things about you -- the shows you like, your favorite foods, your favorite fabrics to wear. His brain is like a little notepad, full of facts about you. When you're having a particularly, bad day, he'll bring home a container of your favorite soup from the place up the street he knows you love. He'll treat you to trinkets and sweaters (sometimes printed with the name of the last town he visited on the mission, sometimes they were his) and whatever stupid little thing makes him think of you (seriously, he brought you a rock with googly eyes from a gift shop in Shibuya once because, and quote, "It reminds me of you").

He knows your body like the back of his hand; knows where you like being kissed, touched, caressed, held. He knows you like it's second nature, like you're an extension of himself.

2. He can cook

You're grateful for that, considering that if he couldn't cook, the two of you would have been completely fucked. You're about as gifted in the kitchen as a toddler with a wooden spoon.

It's okay though. He doesn't mind. He loves cooking for his pretty girl. Curry, Stews, Rice, Chicken -- whatever your little heart desires (or whatever he's decided is on the menu for tonight). And he's good at it, too. He's got a real talent for cheffing it up. The kind of talent that makes you moan words of praise through mouthfuls of food while you chow down.

"You like it?" He'd ask, a teasing lilt tinging his words.

"Fuckin' perfect," You'd reply, voice muffled by mounds of food. "You got a gift."

He wouldn't have believed it had it come from anyone else. But for you? He would have to make an exception.

He only wished he could make enough for you to take leftovers. With two ravenous roommates, however -- the kind that scarf down just about everything but the plate -- that was kinda hard.

(Still, whenever he could, he would sneak a few extra servings into some containers to give to you.).

3. Super Affectionate

You love it when he comes home to you. You love it when he collapses into your arms and wraps his strong arms around you, swaddling you entirely with his warmth. You love when he takes you out with him -- takes you shopping, takes you on dates, takes you on grocery runs to get a brief moment of peace from his roommates.

Aki is nothing if not proud of his girlfriend. Though usually quite timid and stoic, he has no qualms about claiming you in public. (sometimes in a family bathroom stall, if it's one of those days). He'll walk around with his hand on your lower back, your waist, your hip, your ass -- whatever he can get ahold of to let the world know that you're his.

It's usually you who initiates the PDA. He's the one who runs with it.

It'll start with a kiss to his lips, his jaw, his neck, his nose. That's all it takes for him to be pulling you in for more, suddenly rather careless about who sees the two of you. He'll ask you for a kiss. Then another. Then another. Then one last one (it's a trap).

And you, being the lovestruck idiot that you are, you'll stand up on your tippy toes and give him all of the kisses you can muster.

At work parties, you're never far from him -- never out of his line of sight. He said something about his coworkers being "dogs", but you had yet to experience even a double glance in your direction. Being with Aki was like having a bodyguard.

He loves it the most when you sit on his lap. He'll pull you close to him by the waist, hugging your legs from where he's seated. He'll let you entertain his drunken coworkers for a few minutes, perhaps even a few comments from Denji about your looks, and then he'll tug you down to take a seat where you belong (in his lap. no one else's. his lap).

Your pretty face would flush for a moment, stuttering to find the words to continue what you had been saying. He didn't care about anyone else when you were around -- you made him needy. Still, he would hide his blushing face in your neck, your shoulder. Breathe in the scent of your expensive perfume, the scent of your skin that was so uniquely you.

Baby, he'd call you.

Princess, Mama, Angel face.

He couldn't keep the pet names away. It was what gave your relationship away to everyone to begin with, after all. It had been a small meeting with a few Devil Hunters, only two beers in, and you had handed him his third.

"Thanks, Baby," He murmurred, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he tilted his head back. His eyes widened the moment he realized what he had done.

"Baby?" Himeno repeated.

"Baby?" Denji echoed.

"Like, an infant?" Power chimed in. Denji went to explain.

Aki sputtered profusely, hurried chants of, "Wait, wait--" leaving his lips. And you would just laugh, letting him feel the backlash from his coworkers.

"You are dating! I fuckin'-- HIC! -- knew it!" Himeno pumped her drink in the air. "You lyin' little shit."

Not like the way he looked at you didn't give it away from the beginning.

4. Way with words

He loves to spoil his girl. Not just with money (although he certainly doesn't hesitate to buy you whatever your heart desires, or to send you a couple thousand to treat yourself to something nice).

He spoils you with his words, with his saccharine tongue that overflows with pretty things the moment the two of you are alone.

"My pretty girl," He'll say. "Only mine. Only for me."

"Only for you," You'll say back.

He has a certain way with words. Perhaps it's the bluntness of it that makes you fall harder for him. He never hesitates to tell you exactly what's on his mind.

It's a whisper of, "I love you," against your cheek.

It's a grumble of, "Want you," while he leaves fleeting touches of your waist and hips.

And God, he knows how to talk your panties right off.

Lips pursed around a cancer stick, he'll breathe out everything you want to hear.

"'M gonna marry you some day," He'd say. "If I don't, I'll die trying."

"I love the way you look in that dress."

"Your eyes look so pretty."

"You take me so well, pretty."

Whoops. Did I let that last one slip out?

Well, then, I suppose that leads me to number 5.

5. Fantastic Lover

Aki is gifted in a multitude of ways. One of your personal favorites? His hands. His hands on your face, your chest, your lips -- his rough grip on your hips while he devours you.

He loves to spoil you with his attention. Sometimes, that means he'll have you clawing at the bed with anticipation before he even thinks about going faster.

"Can't rush perfection," he'd say.

And you'd tell him, "Shut up and fuck me."

He can't get enough of you. On the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen counter while everyone is still asleep -- he's addicted to the taste of you whenever he can have it. He loves the way you fall apart around him, around his tongue, hips jumping up to ride his face.

He's told you he'd die a happy man if you crushed him. You think that might be the truth.

His fingers are long and thick -- a little calloused, but none the less gentle as they press against your neck, as they slip into your needy pussy. He works you open like it's his job, effortlessly finding that spongy place inside of you that makes you gasp out for him, makes you clutch at his inky black hair as he leans in to give you an experimental lick.

You love his tongue. Devilish thing he is, he'll eat you out for his own pleasure -- until you're clawing at him, tugging the sheets off of the corners, leaving a trail of wetness on his fingers. He has this way of sucking and fucking you so divinely that you forget your name -- suddenly, the only one you can think of is his.

"Aki..." You'd whine. Quietly, still, but getting a little louder while you crept closer and closer to your peak.

"Quiet, Baby," He would hush you, adjusting your legs over his shoulders while he devoured you. "Don't want anybody to hear you, hmm?"

He'll eat you out until you're begging for more, pleading for him.

And then, if you've been good, he'll give it to you -- all of him, everything he has to offer. He'll pound you so far into the mattress that the next morning, when you get up to eat breakfast with him and his roommates, you can do nothing but avoid eye contact at all costs, limping into the kitchen and sitting down slowly (lest you hurt your tender back, the one he'd blown out).

"Rough night?" Denji had asked you once, munching on a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

You swallowed thickly, nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the way you were glancing between him and Aki, whose back was turned to the three of you while he finished cooking.

You scooped some eggs onto your plate, taking a bit onto your fork and shoveling it into your mouth (to give you an excuse to not reply).

But you'd be found out soon enough.

"Sure sounded like it," Power added, tilting her head at you. "Were you injured?"

Aki choked, but disguised it with a cough.

You quirked your brow. "No, why?"

Denji looked up at that, pausing to swallow before he gave his two cents. "You sure?" He asked (teasingly). "We could hear you crying out from down the hall."

You choked on your egg. Aki turned the stove off, whipping his head around to promptly whack Denji on the back of his head with the spoon he had just been stirring up eggs with.

a/n: hiiii! just a quick little drabble. i've been on a csm craze for the last week! (aki's been getting me through the week long period of grief that follows a brutal midterm week). feel free to request some more (reqs say closed but ill do it for my king aki....) who knows! if u guys like it enough (and maybe beg real nicely) i mightttt do another part (or publish this 45 page aki smut i've been sitting on lololosdjfkg). comment and reblog ur thoughts!! i love reading them.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: idk the cover pic artist. If you know them, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

wanna join the csm taglist?

#ask notiddygxthgf ✧˖*°࿐#thirsts ʚ♡ɞ・#aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hakayawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #denji #power #smut #drabble #chainsaw man

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intrepidacious · 2 years

Text

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#sweet as sugar challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #almost believing

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