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hopelesswritings · 2 months ago

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Alex's eyebrows flew upwards when Rebekah tried to come up with some pathetic excuse as to why she smelled like Shiloh. Absolutely unconvinced, she was sure her expression conveyed just that and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. "At the same party… right," tone full of disbelief. She was unsure why Bex even tried to attempt to lie when it was as clear as day that she wouldn't have ever believed such a thing. Raising a hand, she rubbed her eyes, unable to even look at the woman who literally stole her heart and shattered it all in a matter of months.

Pressing her lips together, her jaw then began to clench in frustration at the next set of nonsense that fell from her girlfriend's lips. "I surely hope that it wasn't intentional, Bex! I surely hope that you didn't just wake up one day and think it would be the perfect time to hook up with my best friend!" She seethed out, getting angrier by the minute. "But that doesn't mean that it makes this hurt any less!" Was continued in just the same manner. Oh, how she hated feeling like this, her insides literally pulling her in two different directions of being irritated beyond belief, to being upset, and she honestly had no idea what direction her emotions were going to take her, because now she felt the tears starting to brew, but she didn't want to cry, not yet anyways.

This time Alex did in fact roll her eyes when Bex tried to tell her that she hadn't kept track, thinking that it was absolute bullshit, she probably did know the exact length of the affair, but was too much of a coward to actually confess. Though what Rebekah didn't know was that Alex knew that it had at least been longer than a month. "Is that supposed to make me feel better!?! That it was supposed to be me, but it ended up not. No, it doesn't!" she yelled. "If it was, then it would have, and you wouldn't have let yourself get lost in the closeness of another being. If you actually cared about me, you wouldn't have even thought twice about being with someone else! And if the only thing you care about is my smile making you weak in the knees, and not me as a whole, that's pathetic!"

Alex would have continued speaking to tell Bex that she would never be the reason for her smile ever again, but suddenly the woman's younger sister was racing into the room and throwing her arms around Rebekah, which had Alex's lips pursing once more, especially at the rudeness that occurred. "Why do you always have to be such a fucking asshole to her?" Alex questioned before her eyes snapped to Meredith and stayed on her when she began to reveal through a mumble just how long the two of them had been seeing each other. "Five months?" That was about half the time they had been dating. Around about the same time Bex first told her she loved her, and now Alex really felt like she was going to be sick.

What made it worse, however, was when Rebekah confirmed it were true, and then began to explain the exact time of when it had happened. Alex's heart started pounding rapidly, her head began to spin, the walls then felt like they were closing in, and she honestly felt like she couldn't breathe. It got that bad, that for a moment, her girlfriend's voice became a mumble, just something in the background to the deafening beating that was currently happening inside her entire body, she swore she was about to pass out. Though then she forced herself to focus on the continued spillage of words coming from the other, and her blood once again began to boil.

"Are you even fucking listening to yourself? How the fuck does it feel like you are cheating on her with me! She's not your girlfriend, Rebekah! And you didn't want to hurt me by saying something!? How the fuck do you think I feel now!? Almost a year!" Temper flaring once more. "What's so fucking messed up is that we've been together for almost a year, and for half of that you were hooking up with Shiloh behind my back. The best thing you could of done was not string me along, and not give me the opportunity to fall in love with you, because yes, Rebekah, I fell in love with you while you were falling in love with my best friend! Do you see how fucking twisted that is!?" Hot tears finally started rolling down her cheeks.

"Also how on earth are you trying to twist this around to you being the victim in all of this!? Fuck off, Rebekah! I'm your girlfriend! Not just some random other woman! The fuck is wrong with you? Honestly, tell me how would you feel if the shoe were on the other foot, and you just found out that I was having an affair with Davi!?" Not that she had ever thought about doing something like that. "You know I now kind of wish that I didn't have some kind of morals. I wish that I didn't end things with that married older woman I was seeing before we got together, but I ended it because I really liked you and I wanted to give us a chance. What a stupid fucking thing that turned out to be."

Bringing in a breath, she sniffled and rose a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. "You're right about one thing though..." Alex trailed off, allowing silence to surround them for a moment, just to build up some kind of suspense, not exactly sure as to why, but it happened. "You really are just a good fuck to her, because she really hasn't gotten over her ex-girlfriend," and with that, she turned on her heels and began to walk out of the room. She couldn't be there anymore, it was just way too much right now. However, she stopped for a moment. "A month," was muttered. "That's how long I've known, if you were wondering." she admitted before continuing to leave.

"We were at the same party?" Rebekah questioned, still playing dumb, as she was questioned about smelling like Shiloh. Of course she did - they were all over one another. And Shiloh smelled wonderful. As she was pushed aside, off her girlfriend's lap, she knew beyond a doubt that somehow Alex knew for sure. Asking was only a courtesy, and a test Bex failed.

"You think I picked her? Fucking hell, Alex, it wasn't like it was intentional!" Not at first. Maybe even not at second. And even then, though it wasn't an excuse, it was even less of one now. But how long? Almost half a year. Actually, she remembered it clearly, seeing as how it was soon after the first slip up, she told Alex she loved her. Okay, she had told Alex she loved her before, but also told her she wasn't sure what in love felt like. It only took a couple months of dating before she said she loved Alex. Also telling her she couldn't wait to fall in love with her. Love was hard for her, after all. She was traumatized.

Rebekah definitely couldn't give even close to an exact timeline. She didn't want Alex to be more hurt. To put together that Bex only said she was in love with Alex, days after she had fucked her best friend, hoping to resolve the guilt. "I haven't kept track!" She responded, instead. "It was supposed to be you, you know. All of it! Who else could it be? I couldn't even function when you smiled! Doesn't that fucking mean a thing? That's something that's still fucking true, at least.." There was no doubting Alex's smile was something else, even still.

Meredith had been woken by the shouting, and instantly jumped out of bed. She was elated! She hadn't seen Rebekah in almost four days, and hadn't heard from her, either. But she was alive! She ran out and hugged her, even though she knew she should wait. But she couldn't - if something happened to Bex and she had just gone back to sleep, instead, she'd hate herself.

"Read the fucking room, Runt!" Rebekah shouted at the girl, pushing her aside, angrily. Only two things caused her to be especially mean to Meredith - when she drank, and when she got herself in a mood. Otherwise, she actually showed how much she loved her.

Tears instantly stung the younger sister's eyes, as her big sister rejected her - again. "Almost half a year." She whispered under her breath, wiping her eyes and stepping away from Bex. She coudln't bring herself to make eye contact with Alex. Alex, who had always been so sweet to her. And she kept this to herself, all so she didn't upset their family dynamic. So Bex didn't hate her. So Fletch didn't worry more than she already did. "Sh-she.. they- at least.. f-five months.. I-I'm sorry." She apologized to Alex, before sneaking into Fletcher's room. As long as her sister wasn't home, she could crawl into her bed. Otherwise, she often put herself on the floor.

"Okay, sure, maybe that fucking long. I told you, I don't keep track." At least the truth was out there. Or, part of it. "You know the first time we hooked up, you were there?" She was getting mean now. "Kev's birthday bash? You were up for pong, and I got dizzy. Shy followed me so you could keep playing. I don't even fucking know who kissed who first. Mentioned I probably shouldn't be kissing my girlfriend's best friend. She definitely shouldn't be kissing her best friend's girl." Shrugging, Bex ran a hand through her hair, letting out a dry laugh.

"Apparently neither of us fucking cared. We fucked right there. Twice. I don't even know what the fuck happened after that, because it was supposed to be just that time. But it wasn't. And now.. fuck, Alex! Now it's like I'm cheating on her with you." Another laugh, though it was longer this time, like she could hardly believe it, herself. But she coudln't stop talking.

"And it's so fucked up! How could we hurt you by saying anything? I don't even fucking know if she realizes I wasn't joking! It's you that feels like the other woman, Alex. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with my girlfriend's best friend, but fucking hell, here we are, aren't we? I really thought you were what love was, but I'm wrong about a lot of things. I haven't even told her how I feel, because how do I do that? I'm probably just a good fuck to her, anyways. But how can you even be mad!? It's not like you weren't the other woman, either!"

#✩ alex buchanan #★ alex + rebekah #arexyouxafraidxofxthexdark

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camsthisky · 3 years ago

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"you’re not alone . you’re stuck with me forever . sorry . ” + Jason and Dick (and anyone other family member)?

“Everyone okay?” Dick croaks as the dust and rubble settles around them. He’s lying on his back, kept still by something pinning his legs down. He doesn’t dare assess himself quite yet. “Hood? Batgirl?”

“Okay,” Cass says, and Dick watches as she stumbles over to him, looking dusty, but relatively alright. She kneels next to him with a frown. She meets his eyes—well, relatively since they’re both wearing masks—and asks, “Okay?”

Dick grimaces. “Not really.” Louder, he calls, “Red Hood?!”

“Here, here,” Jason says, coughing into his fist. He’s missing his helmet and there’s a gash sluggishly bleeding from his right cheek, smearing a trail of blood down his face. He’s also limping, but only slightly.

“Can you move?” Cass asks Dick as Jason pulls out his flashlight.

Dick winces at the sudden light, his mask having already automatically switched to night vision. He huffs. “Jay. Off.”

“Names.”

Dick scowls. “The light.”

“Deal with it,” Jason snaps. “My night vision isn’t working.”

Dick turns off his own night vision feature, if only to not be blinded by the damn flashlight if it passes over his eyes again.

That’s when Jason’s flashlight lands on where Dick is pinned.

“Crap,” Jason breathes.

“Can you move them?” Cass asks, sounding a touch more impatient, and Dick realizes that Cass has already asked once. “Your legs.”

“No,” says Dick, just barely trying. He’s tired, but he knows that time is up. He can’t get away with ignoring his own situation any longer. Probably shouldn’t have even waited this long. His legs are tingling from lack of blood flow, mixing with a sharp pain shooting through them both. Still he’s lucky, because—“I can still feel them, though.”

“We’ll lift,” Jason says to Cass, who nods. Dick closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable pain of rubble being lifted off his crushed legs.

“Hhh.”

The sounds he makes is nothing more than an agonized hissed through his teeth, and Dick can’t help the cold sweat that sweeps across his body in a slow wave as his siblings manage to move the slab of—wall, maybe? who knows, really—from where it’s crushing his poor legs.

Something taps against his shinbone and then his kneecap.

“Stop, stop, I feel it,” Dick gasps, bringing his legs up in a protective curl as pain throbs through most of his lower body. His left hip hurts like hell, and his every muscle, bone, and tendon feels like they’ve been squeezed and then flattened like a pancake. He rolls over onto his side so he can bring his knees up to his chest, to wait out the lingering intensity of the pain.

“Breathe,” Cass says.

Dick breathes.

He closes his eyes and blocks out everything and, again, just breathes. His siblings let him.

When he has a better grasp on his agony, Dick finally relaxes. The world filters back in. Cass is running fingers through Dick’s dusty hair (something she one hundred percent learned from Bruce, because only a select few know how much the motion tends to calm him down).

On the other hand, Dick blinks his eyes open to find Jason agitatedly pacing.

“The hell?” Jason murmurs, his flashlight whipping back and forth with his movements as he surveys their surroundings. “Did we get completely sealed in?”

Dick wishes desperately he would stop. Even without night vision, Jason’s impromptu strobe light effect is causing Dick’s head to ache. Instead of saying this, he hums contemplatively. “Wonder if there’s a signal this far down.”

Jason huffs, not slowing in the least. He’s searching for something, and dear god does Dick want him to find it already. “You’re the one with the comms in your ear. You try it.”

They’re in the sewers, is the thing. And while Bruce and Babs have designed the comms system to work incredibly well, even in the sewers, the signal still needs to be able to make it to the system in order to be functional.

With the three of them sealed in this place, seemingly with no way out, pretty deep in the sewer system where they had been disabling bombs throughout the city, Dick isn’t optimistic about their chances of getting a signal.

(They’d just been a few seconds too late for that last bomb, which unfortunately led them to their current circumstances.)

While Jason grumbles, Cass activates her emergency signal and the comms. She calls out, “Batman? Oracle?”

Jason shuts up for the five seconds before Cass looks between both Dick and Jason and shakes her head.

Dick lets out a slow exhale through his nose. He hadn’t really held out much hope for that anyways.

Jason groans. “Holy batcannoli, I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. And where’s my hecking helmet?!”

Cass helpfully points to the rubble sealing them in. Jason kicks a rock with a yell. Dick sighs.

“Well, at least you’re not alone down here,” Dick says as optimistically as he can—although, given the circumstances, it does fall a little flat.

Jason snorts. “Right. Sure, Batgirl is an asset, but you’re a sack of bruised bones right now. That’s not helpful in the slightest, Dickface.”

Dick’s eyelashes flutter of their own accord. He hums. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”

“Dick,” Cass says, her fingers tracing lightly over his face. “Stay awake.”

“I am awake.”

“You’re starting to—” Cass pauses. Dick can’t see the look on her face, because somehow, his eyes have fully closed without his permission, and he can’t seem to find the strength to open them again. “—to slur.”

The sounds of Jason’s pacing stop. Silence rings loud in their sealed section of the sewers. Then, “Did he hit his head?”

“Not sure,” Cass answers.

“Dick,” Jason says, sounding quite a bit closer, like he’s maybe crouching down next to Cass or something—but Dick hadn’t heard him move, and Jason’s boots are too clunky to not make sound against the concrete. “Dick, did you hit your head?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t remember hitting his head. The only thing he clearly remembers about the blast is heavy pieces of rubble crushing his legs. “Maybe?”

“Great,” Jason says. He’s pulling out his I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-your-ridiculous-incompetency voice. “So my bruised bones of a big brother probably also has a concussion. Just great.”

“It’s not his fault he’s injured,” Cass tells Jason. “He was disarming the bomb.”

Which means Dick took the brunt of the blast when it was remotely activated.

Dick really means to tack onto Cass’s statement, maybe tease Jason a little and try to reassure both his younger siblings that not everything is hopeless, because he’s the best big brother ever, of course.

Only, he can’t find the strength to open his mouth and talk. Instead, the voices around him become watery, distorted, and Dick’s head flares in pain.

When unconsciousness comes to take him, he doesn’t resist.

—

“—manage to even find us in the first place?” is the first thing Dick hears as he swims back to consciousness. Jason almost sounds relieved.

“The seismic device didn’t just affect the sewers,” someone replies. It takes a lot of effort for Dick to recognize it as Tim. “A couple buildings partially collapsed, and since we knew the three of you were down here, it was a good starting point to look when none of you would answer the comms.”

“Huh,” is all Jason says.

“Nightwing,” Bruce says, startling Dick from the dazed lull he’d been in as he listened to his brothers talking. He opens his eyes, blinking up bewilderingly at what he can see of Bruce’s face behind the cowl.

“B?” Dick murmurs. He doesn’t move, yet, from where’s curled on his side, but he feels an abortive twitch of his fingers at the reassuring sight of Batman. “‘S goin’ on?”

“What do you remember?”

Right. Bruce did not give easy answers. Life is a series of puzzles, Dick Grayson, fueled by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

Dick frowns and casts his mind back. “The wall blew up,” he decides. “I got hurt?”

He’s only half sure about that last one, but considering his position on the ground, the throbbing in his head and hip, and Bruce’s concerned dad frown that’s taking over his Batman grimace, Dick thinks that he’s probably on the right track.

“Concussion,” Cass says, startling Dick when she pops her head over Bruce’s shoulder. “Also, ‘a sack of bruised bones.’”

That—sounds familiar. He thinks he remembers Jason saying something like that.

Bruce’s frown gets deeper. “Straighten your legs.”

“Please,” Dick tacks on for Bruce when he lacks the manners to be nice, basically on instinct at this point, even as he—slowly, and with a great deal of agony—does what Bruce tells him to do.

They go through a couple more tests, until finally Bruce, unhappy, deems, “We need to move you.”

Dick blinks when Bruce turns away to murmur something to one of the others. A conversation washes over him, and Dick can’t help but let himself tune it out. The noise settles as vague humming—indistinct and comforting.

“—two, three,” Bruce says as Dick’s entire vision goes white.

He only manages to come back to himself in increments.

There are arms holding him tight. Familiar murmurs in his ear. The comforting sound of Batman’s heavy cape brushing against concrete.

“—there, Chum,” Bruce is saying, and if Dick had the capability, he would have teased Bruce for pulling out both the concerned dad frown and the concerned dad voice in one night.

As it is, the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he opens it are harsh pants for air. Every step jostles him, and agony is his constant companion throughout the entire journey to the surface.

Somehow, Dick is still conscious when he’s laid down in the backseat of the batmobile. He’s grateful he’s not moving anymore, and carefully doesn’t think of the upcoming ride back to the Cave.

He only really starts to relax when Bruce settles the cape over him. Wrapped up inside it, Dick almost feels like he’s ten years old again. Batman’s has always felt like warmth and protection and home. This time is no different.

“Batgirl and Robin, keep Nightwing as still as possible. Red Hood, in the front. Start updating Oracle.”

“Why do they—”

“You’re too bulky, Hood. Me and Batgirl are smaller than you. It’s still going to be a tight fit, but it’s the most comfortable for everyone this way.”

“Whatever.”

“Enough. Car. Now.”

There’s lots of careful but hurried scrambling. Dick thinks he passes out a few times on the way back. He doesn’t remember much, either. Just bits and snatches here and there—His siblings talking to him, Bruce giving orders, Jason being snappy and unwittingly dragging Tim into an argument.

And then—he wakes up. A lot more clear-headed than he’d felt the last time he’d been conscious (though, that wasn’t saying much).

To Dick’s surprise, he’s on his side again, dressed in sweats with a pillow between his legs. He opens his eyes to the Wayne Manor living room, and—yes, he’s on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but it’s clearly sometime past sunrise.

Bruce is sitting cross-legged in front of him, reading a book.

“Bruce?” Dick calls, his voice still somewhat slurred. “Why’m I on the couch?”

“You started crying when I said you had to stay in the infirmary,” Bruce tells him, grabbing a bookmark and setting his book off to the side.

Dick frowns. He doesn’t remember that. Still, he manages to say, “You’re such a pushover.”

“How do you feel?”

Dick blinks a dozen times in a row, trying to assess his body and keep up with the change in subject. “Kinda woozy. My hip hurts a lot.”

“Hn.”

“Think I need to brush up on my Bat speak,” Dick murmurs. “Dunno what that one meant.”

Bruce hums again. “You’re incredibly lucky. We’ll need to be careful for the next few weeks.”

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

“Crush injuries to your legs and left hip. Not overly severe, and we managed to stabilize you once we realized you were in shock.”

Dick thinks about that for a second. “Concussion? I’m pretty sure I remember something about a concussion.”

“It’s mild,” Bruce tells him. “It was the shock that was the real problem.”

“Oh.” Dick sighs into the pillow under his head. “I’m tired.”

Bruce gives him a soft smile, just slight enough that if Dick hadn’t been so familiar with Bruce’s microexpressions, he would have thought he’d been mistaken. Fingers lightly card through his hair, and Dick’s eyes start closing of their own accord.

“Then sleep,” Bruce says.

Dick sleeps.

#dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #batclan #dc #camryn writes #brambleberrycottage #thank you for the prompt and your wonderful support!!!!

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darthmaulification · 3 years ago

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Hey, I want to make a request

In your Maul’s nsfw alphabet you said that he is afraid of hurting reader during sex, right? So, could you please write smth were this happens? Thank you!!

A/N: ..... anon..... the absolute Way you have me experiencing a cataclysm with this... i am imploding...

thank you very much for requesting this, it was also a very good and welcome challenge for me to write. 😊👍

hope you enjoy!! 💗

content: a lil bit o’ smut!, some angst??, but also lots of comfort and fluff!!, kinda sorta implied afab!reader??, maul commits a big oopsie on accident, crying during sex, blood and injury, maul gets angry at himself, but also soft!maul 🥺, lots of kissing, happy ending of course 🥰

word count: 2,334

Maul’s vigorous thrusting is complimented deliciously by the sloppy, desperate kisses he leaves all over the skin his mouth can reach. His crimson hands grip your wrists in a vice above your head, keeping them trapped against the bed. You moan into the sheets, arching up against him, hips tilting, silently begging him to go faster, harder, please, Maul...

“Harder, sweet girl?” Maul growls teasingly from above you, answering the plea you hadn’t realized you vocalized. He obeys, and you cry out his name when his hips clash into yours, drilling his cock into you, almost causing your knees to give from the force. The obscene yet beautiful sound of skin smacking together floats into your ears, mingling with Maul’s grunts and your persistent moaning.

Maul presses against you, the fiery skin of his bare chest flush against the arch of your back. The snapping of his hips make you rock in rhythmic tandem, and with each one you feel your peak nearing. Maul groans into the dip of your shoulder blades, his breath hot on the nape of your neck, where he licks across your flushed, dewy skin and leaves wet trails.

“Say my name again, my love.” He leaves a flat-tongued lick up your neck, nibbling at your ear. One of his hands drop from your wrists and travels down your side, rough fingers igniting sparks inside you. Maul kneads your waist, your belly, before clutching your hip. The brace allows him to further pound himself into you, and you see stars.

“Maul, Maul!” You scream his name, all high-pitched and airy, the pleasure toe-curling and promising of a powerful, sweet release. Maul exhales a rather handsome laugh into your ear, golden eyes glazed over with lust and something else wild. Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him suck a love bite into the nook where your neck and shoulder meet, arching your head back and against his shoulder.

Like a prayer, his name tumbles from your lips over and over again, the lamentation pleading and desperate. Your core throbs and clenches around your lover, a telltale sign of orgasm on the horizon. Everything seems to slow down...

But then Maul bites. Hard. Your eyes snap open.

The sinking of sharp teeth into the flesh of your shoulder is so poignant, it pierces through the thick, lustful haze and roughly pulls you back to reality. You shriek, one most certainly not out of pleasure, but actual pain. It causes Maul to abruptly pull out and back, releasing your wrists in the process. At the same time you feel the emptiness of him leaving, a white-hot fire erupts from where Maul had definitely broken the skin and you writhe.

“Ow.” The whimper escapes in one word, voice thick, as tears immediately glaze over your eyes. Blinking furiously to keep them at bay, you squirm lethargically into an upright position, sitting on your knees.

“I’m...” From behind you Maul starts to say something, but his voice cuts out when you look down over your shoulder and reach a trembling hand up to the bite. When you actually see the wound, that’s when the tears start rolling down your cheeks. It’s... bad.

The bite is a perfect oval of teeth indents and grooves, most of them deep and bleeding, the skin around them a harsh red and raised. The skin around it is an ugly mix of crimson, dark purple bruising, and pink with irritation. The entire area is swollen and pulsing with ache. Bottom lip wobbling, you trace a hesitant finger along the edge of the bite and the touch stings. You pull your hand back with a shaky gasp.

“My love, I...” Maul starts speaking again but stops and swallows. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, and you’re not exactly sure why. The tears are falling profusely now, and you shudder back heavier sobs. The room goes dreadfully silent, save for your small, quiet cries. You can feel Maul’s stare on you, more specifically on the injury he caused.

“I hurt you. I hurt you.” He repeats to himself, the tone of his voice inscrutable. He suddenly clambers up and off of the bed, the mattress shaking gently, and you listen as his footsteps disappear out of the room. The room is left thick with pain and sorrow, and also a stewing shame that was left hovering after Maul spoke. You look back at the bite after another round of tears pours from your eyes. Oh, Maul...

Footfalls sound again, and Maul reenters the room as your examining the darkening wound, particularly the trails of blood that have by now reached your waist. His heart clenches with a terrible ache, and guilt and anger bubble to the surface, stiffening him. He hurt you, he did. Maul almost doesn’t want to approach, almost thinks he shouldn’t, but you need the bacta.

You don’t look at Maul’s face when he sits next to you, though not as close he usually would, because you’re unsure if you want to see the expression that must be on it. Instead, you focus on his hands, at the wet rag, bacta, and bandages he’s holding. You also notice how his hands are quivering.

“Can I clean it?” Maul asks in an uncharacteristically quiet tone, though he’s very obviously seething with barely capped rage. That somewhat familiar self-loathing Maul gets from time to time radiates off of him, as does guilt. You sniffle, and bob your head yes. The pain is less sharp now, but the wound still needs to be dressed.

Maul says nothing as he wipes away the almost dried blood trails, or as he very tenderly dabs at the puffy wound, or when he pauses at his teeth marks that are purpling now, or even when he smears the bacta over them. The whole time, he works mechanically and in deafening silence. By the time Maul has placed a bandage over the bite, the cooling of the bacta has numbed your shoulder to a soft, dull ache and the hurt is all but gone.

“Maul...” You start softly after you feel his hands leave you, gaze climbing up his arms to his face. The shame-ridden expression on his face makes your heart sink, how his downcast golden eyes are aflame with guilt and swirling with fury. He doesn’t look at you as you turn fully to face him, and recoils when you place a hand on his cheek. His body, ever warm, is stiff beneath your touch.

“It’s okay.” You murmur and Maul’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, the anger flaring. His square jaw tenses and he shakes off your hand.

“No, it’s not. I hurt you.” And while you see and hear that familiar wrath and that unfamiliar guilt in his expression and voice, it never occurred to you before that Maul was also afraid. It makes you misty-eyed. You shake your head, shuffling closer to him.

“No, no, no— Maul, it was an accident.” You plead, placing your hands on either side of his face, rubbing circles with your thumbs. Usually, that simple touch calms him down, but this time Maul grabs your wrists and pulls his face from your grasp.

“I hurt you.” He says again, voice a hiss as he stares at you with conflicted, pained eyes, “I fucking made you cry.”

Maul suddenly leaps up from the bed, pacing across the room to roughly grab his pants off the floor. He pulls them on swiftly, and your brows furrow when he crosses the room to grab his belt and lightsaber.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he ties his belt across his waist, clipping his saber to it. He doesn’t look at you, and turns to the door.

“I’m leaving.”

“No, you are not.” You clamber up off the bed and onto your feet, stumbling slightly as you hastily make your way over to Maul. You’re able to get in front of him, planting your hands firmly on his chest and halting him. He glares down at you, angrily, sadly, and you ground yourself at look up at him.

“Move.” He growls, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Your lips turn down in a stubborn pout. Maul’s bristling under your touch, and you know you’re walking on precarious ground. But you’ve dealt with Maul’s temper enough to not have it faze you, and you’re sure you can handle his guilt the same.

“No.” You retort and you pull yourself flush against him, arms snaking around his torso in a tight hug, your eyes closing. Pressing your cheek against his chest, you sigh at the familiar warmth you love, digging your face into his beautiful crimson and black skin. Maul doesn’t wrap his arms around you in turn. You give his sternum a gentle kiss.

“Get off.” Maul’s growled order comes out as brashly and as firmly as always, but his commandeering attitude hasn’t worked on you for years. A sudden, but small, spark of playfulness curls your lips upwards into a tiny smile. You rub your hands up and down the length of Maul’s back, feeling every tight, defined muscle and occasionally the rough edge of his scar when your hand gets low enough and your pinky fingers brush it.

“Never.” Your murmur vibrates his chest, and you hum contentedly when you finally catch the lovely beatings of Maul’s twin hearts. They thrum in alternating rhythm beneath your ear, both strong and deep.

“You’re not running from me.” You speak again, eyes still closed. Maul is quiet, though you feel him lift an arm and a tender, yet firm, hand comes to rest on the low of your back. You smile fully, lightly gliding your nails over Maul’s back in the way you know he loves. His thumb starts to rub circles on your skin.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“... I was scared.”

“I know.”

You look up at Maul, eyes beneath heavy lids, your smile still bright and kind on your face. The conflict in his eyes has cooled to a simmer, being replaced more and more by that boyish, starry-eyed look he gets sometimes, the one that reminds you of how much he loves you. Maul’s other hand reaches up and cups your cheek, caressing your face. You tilt your head into the touch.

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” He teases in a low murmur, honey gold eyes glimmering with rising mirth, and you quirk an eyebrow. Your hands stop to rest on his waist, just above the band of his pants. Maul’s face starts to inch in closer and closer to yours, stopping right when his lips are just above yours.

“Mm... you might have to do some convincing.” You whisper, eyes drooping further until your irises are nearly obscured by your eyelashes. Maul chuckles low in his throat, his hand shifting to place two fingers under your chin. He tilts your head up slightly, pulls you closer against him.

“How do you suppose I accomplish that?” He asks, breath puffing on your cheeks, gaze breaking from yours when he closes his eyes. You follow suit, and the tips of both your upper lips touch.

“... I can think of one way.” You say, and you tilt your head and your jaw slackens slightly, and Maul’s lips are on yours, balmy and soft. The kiss is slow, slower than he usually does, but it’s perfect and sultry and so Maul. You hum when he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to gyrate in your mouth. He explores everywhere, relearns every touch. It’s like you’re kissing for the first time all over again, lost in each other as if the years of memorizing each other’s body melted away into oblivion. Your hands clasp his waist, his one hand moves up to your mid back, and the heated, passionate kiss ends.

Maul pulls back a little more to look at you properly, tucking your hair behind your ear, and you open your eyes from the touch. He’s wearing that satisfied, lazy grin, the one that always makes him look mischievous.

“Do you still need more convincing?” He asks with a tilt of his head, though he knows the answer you’re going to give by the cheeky smile that spreads across your face. You giggles, eyes sparkling, and you nod.

“Lots.” And with that, Maul’s lips are on yours, stifling your laughter in his mouth. He smothers you with kisses, peppering your lips, cheeks, and jaw, and you do the same for him, kissing over and over until you’re sure your lips will fall off. At some point, Maul heaves you into his arms, carries you to the bed, and drops your bodies atop it.

You squeal with laughter when he rolls on top of you, trapping you between his thighs, nuzzling and kissing the side of your face. Your hands fumble at his shoulders, before sliding to his face to turn his head to you. He’s grinning between your hands, looking absolutely charmed, and you kiss him on the nose, breathy from laughing.

When you pull away, Maul’s panting and still grinning like a madman, but his wild eyes have gone somewhat tame, controlled. His eyes dart all around your face, like he’s analyzing each one of your features. He breathes an exhale, licks his lips, and meets your gaze.

“I love you.” And his voice is slightly raspy, but he says it with such conviction, so raw and passionate, that the intensity floors you. Sure, he’s said those words to you before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. Your eyes go slightly misty again, and you smile sweetly, fingers rubbing the bases of his horns on his temples.

“I love you.” You reply and again, Maul sinks into you with a deep kiss, and you all but melt into each other, bodies a welcoming sanctuary for the other.

#star wars #star wars darth maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #darth maul #maul #anon #anon ask #request

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achillieus · 4 years ago

Text

we’re fools (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, a lot of sexual references, but also a lot of fluff, bucky and reader are in love, also bucky gets cheesy and he hates it

(other parts) (masterlist)

part 3/3:

Bucky thinks he fell in love on a Tuesday.

“This year, I’m gonna ask Peggy Carter out.” It’s the first day of their third semester and Steve is putting his black baseball cap in his perfect hair, checking his reflection on his phone screen. One of the freshman girls winks at him and he shyly half smiles.

Usually, Bucky would tease him about it, but now he’s attention is wholly on something else. Someone else.

A girl at the other end of the hall, holding a paper juice box, wearing a gaudy denim dress that stops right before her knees.

He’s certain he hasn’t seen her before and judging by the adrift look on her face he deduces she’s in her first year. Is she pretty? He can’t decide. She’s definitely something. And if he stares at her a bit longer than socially acceptable, well let’s say, it’s completely unintended.

“Buck, did you hear what I said?” Steve says at one point and Bucky isn’t sure for how long he has been lost in her figure.

“Yeah sure.” The girl starts walking at their direction -it must be your lucky day, Bucky-, clutching the golden heart jewel around her neck. She’s looking at the doors, she’s looking at the big campus map they have on the wall. She’s looking everywhere but at him and it’s almost offensive considering the amount of time he spent looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” And then she’s there standing a few steps behind Steve. Almost hidden behind his colossal demeanor. “I can’t seem to find the Admission Office.”

A small nervous laugh escapes her lips and Bucky watches the little wrinkles around her eyes, the subtle blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t look pretty. No. She looks consuming.

“Admission office is on the left, doll”. He replies a little too fast. He had to beat Steve. He had to talk to her.

She smiles at him and somehow, along that smile, Bucky thinks he fell in love. With you.

(bucky barnes has been in love with you for 563 days)

“Did you just kiss me?”

His voice is barely a whisper and his vision is blurry and it’s weird because suddenly he realizes how scared he’s of you. Of the power you have on him. An alarming craving. Every addiction he can’t control combined. Bucky isn’t afraid of many things, not exactly. But he’s afraid that you’ll take his heart and break it, if you want to. And he’s more afraid that he’ll just allow you to. He wonders, for the split of a second, if you have any idea how everything changed when your lips met his. How something inside of him shifted.

“I’m sorry,” You finally answer and he needs a moment to compose himself, “I’m so sorry I just thought-”

“Shut up, I’d died if you hadn’t kissed me.”

“What?”

It’s innocent and terribly oblivious, the way you ask him that and he half smiles, almost touches your palm before his mind stops racing. Ignores the alcohol in his body. Reminds him that he’s Bucky Barnes, that he’s clever and brilliant and a little bit narcissistic and that he doesn’t do love. Not anymore. And that people adore him for that. And that he needs to uphold it. At least try to.

“I’m not repeating that soppy thing I said,” He drawls and smirks, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light of the hall. He has his mask back on. He’s playing his part again. And then he takes a quick step, opens his door and turns around, swift motions and hard grips and suddenly your spine hits the walls of his room. “But you can repeat that sexy thing you did with your tongue.”

Bucky isn’t stupid. He knows he’d perish and wither in a blast if you asked him to, yet he would never admit that. At least not so fast. And specially not to you. He has built his persona so carefully, wore it like an armor, it has become a second skin.

His chapped lips scratch soft against your neck, his hands play with the end of your dress and you observe the way his orbs are colored darker now. He knows what he’s doing. It’s a show he’s practiced. His touch is sharp, like a razor, cuts through your epidermis, comes close to your veins and the muscles of your heart.

And you’re ready to close your eyes, savor every minute of it, offer yourself like an altar and let him wipe the rationality out of you, but the moment his fingers find the wet silk between your legs there’s pain and your throat dries out instantly.

“Bucky, wait.”

“What’s wrong doll?”

“Can we stop?”

There’s the cruel split of a moment where the anxiety inside of you flares up dangerously and you fill like on the edge of a cliff, like falling and it’s horrible. And then you see his body relax, breathing a sigh of relief and laughing.

“Thank God you asked.”

“Barnes,” you hit him with your elbow, “You’re doing wonders for my self esteem right now!”

“You’re an idiot,” he replies with a grimace, “It’s just that I’m drunk and I prefer if I’m not drunk when we have sex. I want to remember the whole thing.”

A strange sensation tingles somewhere between your ribs and your stomach, something so pure and new, and it raises goosebumps all over you. And you smile at him.

And somehow along that smile, Bucky’s mask starts to fall.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt within your first month in college, is a year older than you, a proud boy that always asks the right questions and always gives the right answers, with charms and wits of a living god.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt the night you kissed him in the narrow aisle, may have a sharp tongue but he also has the sweetest lips, soft and liqueur like.

Bucky Barnes, you learn some days later, doesn’t want many people to know about you two, and sits three tables away during lunch.

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

Your mind is racing with dozens of hurtful possibilities, some more or less, and Bucky looks at you, eyes widen and surprised.

“Why would I be embarrassed of you?”

“I don’t know,” you take the tea cup in your hands, drink and stay silent for a while, observe the way he’s fidgeting with his fingers, “Why else would you avoid me whenever there’s someone else but Sam around?”

It takes some time before he walks closer, sits next to you by his bedframe and touches your hand, your skin freezing under his.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Your heart almost stops, because Bucky is never scared, and his answer feels strangely heavy and bitter from his lips when he says, “I just don’t want anyone to ruin this.”

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk like he usually does, just stares at you with narrow eyes and a quick breath.

“Bucky, I hate it to break it to you,” you say, a glint of amusement in your voice, “But I don’t think others care that much about us.”

You cup his face in your hands, guide him backwards, his back hitting the pillow and it’s the first time he has no choice but to comply.

“And even if they do,” you breath in, wet your lips and tease the corner of his mouth with your finger, “It’s not our problem.”

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, shifts even closer to you, his heart not missing a beat. And when you kiss him, he smiles. And somehow along that smile, Bucky becomes more of himself.

It goes like this;

People read it in his eyes. How his gaze never leaves you even while you’re writing a test and he needs to concentrate, how he looks mesmerized when you braid your hair while scanning the textbook in front of you. How he could find you even in the middle of the biggest crowd.

People see it in your reactions. How your fingers always wrap around his wrist, almost instinctively, before he leaves, and you kiss him one time on the lips, and then one more on the cheek. How your voice changes as soon as he enters the room. How you’d know he’s here even without looking.

You really have to try to be oblivious to love.

(text messages between classes)

(10:26 AM) bucky: hey does taylor swift have to be playing in the background when we have sex

(10:27 AM) you: it’s not even noon bucky what the hell

(10:27 AM) bucky: i went through your spotify and APPARENTLY you have a “🍆🍆🍆” playlist

(10:27 AM) bucky: and it’s just taylor swift and hozier???

(10:27 AM) bucky: who the hell wants to have sex with a taylor swift song playing

(10:28 AM) you: I’m gonna kill you

(10:28 AM) bucky: nah <3

It’s surprisingly easy, dating Bucky Barnes, and by the end of the first month, you feel at home, at ease. He talks a lot, way more than you expected him to, he shares his favorites, the way he always underlines quotes he likes in the books he’s reading or how he never eats anything that has soy in it. He shows you everything about him, not just who he is, but who he’s ever been. And it’s beautiful.

And you observe how he breathes easier now, smiles more. He doesn’t keep his guard up, doesn’t flinch when nobody’s looking at him.

He thinks it’s weird.

He thinks it’s weird, because kissing has always been an act of foreplay to him and he never paid much attention, but now, with you, he could spend his whole life kissing you.

But when you start pulling at the buttons of his black expensive shirt, well, it’s not like he’s complaining. He presses his body against yours, his hands almost shaking, his fingers burying in your hair, slowly tugging.

“Bucky,” You breath in his neck, “I may be bad at this.”

“What?” He whispers as he leaves wet trails all the way to your chest.

“I haven’t done this before, so I may be bad at it.”

He stares right at your lips, notices your sweet cherry scent mixing with the sharp notes of his aftershave, touches the spot under your eyes and smiles.

“Guess we’ll have to do it over and over again then.” He’s half laughing, half kissing your shoulder and you can feel your cheeks flush and your entire being tighten.

And then his cold fingertips draw circles on your inner thighs and you close your eyes, and Bucky forgets how to breath.

“I probably sound like a fool but, I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t plan on saying it that early, but he’s here, warm and glistening and in your arms and you can’t go another minute without hearing the words out loud.

“And I probably sound competitive but, I’ve been in love with you since God knows when.”

(AH IT’S FINISHED BUT YAY THEY’RE IN LOVE)

tagging: @tonystankschild @osterfieldshollandgirl @roguesthetic @buckyjms @ohladymacbeth

#i had one of the worst months but hello hello i am back #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #college au #au!bucky barnes #college au!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #hassandra #fools

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Yours, Mine, and Ours [7] Finale

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, general sadness and shittiness.

This is dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You must face change.

Author Notes: I got another old series tied up and I’m editing the last chapter of another one as well. I’m trying to clear some stuff out as best I can.

A special thank you to everyone who reached out to me over the last few days. And extra thanks to @lokislastlove for always encouraging me.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

Masterlist

Bucky knelt beside you as your ass throbbed in pain and your head thrummed. He touched your arm gently with his metal hand, his other on your cheek as he cradled your face. You met his blue eyes but he quickly lifted his head and glared across the room.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll hit you again. Harder.” His snarl was so harsh and deep, it made you shiver. He turned his attention back to you as he helped you roll over and sit up, “Are you okay? Careful…” he backed off the bed slowly as he guided you to the end of the mattress.

You clung to him and glanced over at Steve as he spat blood onto the floor. His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he looked back but he made no move towards you, his head lolling just slightly as he sat straight.

You let Bucky usher you to the door as he turned back and searched around the floor. He huffed and took off his jacket instead, draping it over your shoulders.

He pointed you through the door and followed, snatched the throw from the back of the couch and offered it as he urged you on. You found your purse where you dropped it and stopped to grab it, groaning at how your body ached. You continued to the door as he opened it and followed you out.

You were silent as you descended, cloaked in his jacket and the thin blanket. You came around the building and neared your car. He kept away from you but hovered as if you might keel over.

“I can’t drive,” you let your purse dangle weakly from your hand.

“I’ll take you back,” he said softly, “and then you don’t have to see me ever again.”

You nodded and rounded his car. You opened the door and slumped into the seat, your purse on your lap as you hung your head. It was over. You knew it was. You thought there would be a way to hold onto Steve, to find the man he had been, but he assured you that that Steve was gone. Everything you had was lost.

The engine turned and you barely noticed the blur of the city as it passed outside the windows. You fought against the wave of grief that swept over you and leaned your head back.

“You said I’ll never see you again,” you croaked, “but you saved me.”

“So? I did all those other things too,” he gripped the wheel and sniffed, “I’ll keep my distance. I started all this. I never should’ve-- I’m fucked. I try to act like I’m not but I am.”

“Bucky…” you said weakly.

“Don’t. I know it’s the truth and I know everything that happened to you is because of me. Steve’s an asshole. I don’t know what changed in him, but I’m worse,” he sighed, “I’m gonna resign. I’m gonna… look into rehab or therapy, whatever they got for me. I can’t stay near you or Steve. I can’t do any of it.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands together. Your body hurt but your soul hurt worse.

“No, I’m going,” you said, “I’m leaving. I’m not a hero like you or Steve. I don’t matter. And I can’t stay with him. I can’t even stay close because I know he won’t stay away. Right now, he’s getting up off that floor and you can’t tell me he’s not coming after us right now.”

Your voice cracked and you muffled it with a corner of the blanket. You hunched over as suddenly you felt nauseous and you held in a retch. Your body shook but you kept the sickness in and murmured.

“Please, just get me back,” you begged.

“I will,” he vowed, “I’ll make sure you get out and I’ll make sure he doesn’t stop you,” you heard him gulp between his words, “and after, if you ever need me to knock him on his ass again, I’ll be there. No strings, no expectations, we don’t even need to talk.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the door, watching the pedestrians and other cars. You could only think of everything that needed to be done; grab what you can, email Tony, go back and get your car and drive without stopping.

“Shit,” you sat up as you neared the compound, “I forgot my phone.”

“Good,” Bucky said, “he’s tracking it. Get a new one.”

👥

Bucky closed the yellow taxi door and watched the cab pull out into the swell of New York traffic. She’d packed the remnants of her former life in a single backpack but he could see, she didn’t even need that. He backed away from the curb and tucked his hands into his pockets. His chest was tight and heavy. He was guilty but he didn’t feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for her.

He was almost thrown off his feet as a hand gripped his arm and swung him around. Steve was white with anger as a vein popped out in his forehead. His lip was split and his nose bruised from Bucky’s fist. The men faced each other in mutual detest. He never expected to look at his oldest friend that way and feel it so succinctly.

“Where is she?” Steve growled.

Bucky shrugged and shouldered past him, “gone. Far from us.”

Steve followed him and stopped him before he could pass through the door. He shoved him back against the façade of the building but Bucky hardly felt it. He just stood, staring at the man he didn’t know any more, and lifted a brow.

“You gonna beat it out of me?” he asked, “then you’ll have to kill me.”

Steve’s eyes searched Bucky’s and he growled under his breath, “all you had to do was follow the fucking rules.”

“I never liked those rules. I only wanted to be close to her. It was selfish. It was abuse.”

“She liked it,” Steve snapped.

“No, you told her she liked it and she loved you so much, she believed you,” Bucky’s voice turned raw, “she loved you and you threw it all away.”

“You ruined it,” Steve accused.

“Fuck you,” Bucky snarled, “you deserve to be alone.”

“I’ll find her,” Steve curled his fingers into a fist and puffed his chest, “I know exactly where she’s going. She won’t get to her car before I do.”

“No, she will,” Bucky pushed away from the wall and grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and pinned him, “you won’t make it past me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned. He gripped Bucky’s shirt in kind and the pair rolled against the wall until they stopped in a bitter stalemate. They stared each other down as their soles scuffed on the pavement and grunted almost in unison at their opponent.

“You won’t keep me from her forever,” Steve said calmly.

“She’s not the only one leaving, Steve,” Bucky hissed, “and I won’t feel bad at all when you wake up one day and realise how lonely you are.”

👥

Your new apartment was mostly empty but it was yours, unlike that seventh floor box Steve had made your cage. It was far from him, far from Bucky, far from everyone you ever knew. You knew you couldn’t hide with your parents or your sister or even those distant university friends who you knew would have your back. You had to be alone. It was your fear of that which got you into all that mess.

You didn’t see Bucky again but he did get a message to you. He left a gift for you at a safe house on your way out of the state. New identification, an unopened cell, and a wad of cash. It wasn’t atonement but it was what he could give you. You kept driving and exchanged your car at the stateline. You kept on until you felt as if you were in an entirely different country.

You took a job at the grocery store as a cashier. You remembered when you were a child and your mother had the same position. She went back to school and made you promise you’d never end up in the same boat. If she could see you now…

If you could see her.

You dropped your bag on the side table as you entered and turned the lock on the handle and the latch above, the deadbolt over that, and hooked the chain last. You clutched the pepper spray you kept up your sleeve and searched the single bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Your paranoia was your only companion.

You kept the curtains drawn day and night, even those stolid nights when you couldn’t sleep for the thick sweat that coated your body. Those nights came more often and even during the day, you found yourself suffocated in fits of unbearable heat. And at night, you were trapped by the dreams of the past.

You sat and opened up the novel you kept on the coffee table. When you’d been with Steve, you never had much time to read between his need for attention and your work. Your relocation was freeing in more ways than one.

You laid back and wiggled, still in your stiff grocery store uniform and lost yourself in the fantasy adventure of a young warrior. It was a fight you could control; that you could win.

👥

Bucky held the position and breathed out slowly. His muscles vibrated as he strained and slowly lifted his leg, the toes of his other foot firmly planted on the mat. He turned and outstretched his arm and leg to the ceiling and inhaled. He let out another breath as he reached the next position then returned to downward-facing dog.

He pushed himself back to sit on his knees as the noise of the lapping lake reached his ears and sent a cool breeze over the dock. He pulled his legs out from under him and bent his legs as he leaned his sweaty arms over his knees. He looked out at the glistening water and listened to the noise of birds and critters.

Peace. He couldn’t call it that. Exile, more like. He didn’t trust himself to be near people. His therapist visited once a week and he attended daily video sessions with him. One of his tasks was to find hobbies and to face himself. Yoga was both of those. It cleared his hand and ate up his time.

But then he found himself wishing she was there. He knew she wasn’t in some serene lake house, she didn’t have all the support offered by SHIELD and Stark, she didn’t have anyone. He did what he could, what she would accept from him, but there was nothing he could give her in that life that would ever be enough.

Then he felt awful about those thoughts. She was never his to have.

He stood and walked up the dock and the dirt path to the house. He climbed up onto the large deck and through sliding doors. He poured himself a glass of water and added a slice of lemon. He took it with him as he went to the bedroom where he slept alone, where the shadows of trees loomed over him in the night and swayed like the wraiths of his remorse.

The white cat hopped up on the bed and twirled in expectation, in demand of his attention. He scratched Alpine’s head as he neared and got a nip when he pet him a little too long. The moody feline retreated to the corner of the bed and watched him with his pale blue eyes. The creature was his only friend now.

He took a deep gulp and sat on the edge of the bed and set the glass down. He slid open the drawer of the hand-crafted night table and dipped his fingers inside. He pulled out the pink fabric and held them in his metal hand and stroked the dainty elastic. He should get rid of them, like he had the rest, but he just couldn’t. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t. He would never forget about her.

👥

You pushed the boxes and cans over the scanner and onto the next belt so that they were carried down to the end of the counter. You smiled as you asked the usual questions and waited for the customer to punch in their pin. You waved on the next in line as the former bagged their goods and you kept the distant tune playing from the low speakers in your head.

The routine was your only comfort. It was easy. Even when you got those fussy customers, the ones with the expired coupons or the wrong flyers, it was simple work. You rang them through and saw them off without concern. Their tantrums were not the worst you’d faced in your time.

When it was your time to clock out, you stopped by the café in the same plaza as the grocery store and ordered a tall iced tea. You came out with your purse on the arm that hid the pepper spray and made your way to the end of the pavement and around the corner to the street.

At the first corner, you turned off onto a small side street then cut through to the park and passed the memorials and statues set along the winding path. It was a longer walk than your normal route but you took it once a week. You liked to watch the ducks but you had to avoid the geese.

You sipped from your straw and smiled at a dog as he passed with his owner and looked over at the kids laughing on the monkey bars. Your uniform tented in the heat of the summer sun but you pressed on, refreshed by the fruity tea.

When you emerged from the park, the grit of the small town returned. The chipped bricks of your building rose above you and you unlocked the front door after a struggle with the ancient keyhole. The door closed heavily behind you and you headed up the dingy stairs.

As you got to your apartment, you went through the usual to-do; lock, search, and settle in. Two months, maybe three, it felt so long ago and yet it felt like only yesterday. You couldn’t help but feel watched, followed, and you knew that sensation would follow you for the rest of your life. But if it was only ever a thought, you could be okay.

👥

Steve didn’t know what to do with himself at first. First, his girl left and then his best friend.

In the early days of his solace, he told himself it wasn’t true. They’d be back. They couldn’t live without him. They would apologize because they betrayed him. They would realise that he wasn’t the villain. He wasn’t wrong. He busied himself with his missions and waited.

But after two weeks, he saw no signs, heard no tell, nothing. He tried to follow her trail but there wasn’t anything past the state line. He asked where Bucky went but Stark wouldn’t tell and SHIELD kept that information classified from all, even him.

Then, he felt bad and he lingered on those questions that tugged at his mind. Was he wrong? Was he the bad one? Had he really hurt them? Did he deserve it all? He felt awful and fell through on a mission and no one asked any questions. No one knew the reasons for the sudden departures and the downcast captain.

Then he was mad. He was breaking things. He was growling and shouting in frustration. He ripped a door off its hinges and punched a hole through a wall. He paid for the repairs but was told in no short terms to leave the compound. He was all too happy too. He still had that apartment and it wasn’t too bad being in his own space.

But it made him think of her. And as he thought of her, he missed another mission, this time without telling anyone. Phone calls, emails, knocks on his door, they all muddled together in the haze of his thoughts.

He remembered those days, decades ago when Bucky had been his only friend. When he was a boy, when he still felt young, when he still felt like him. He remembered everything that came after and how he fought to save the only man he ever admired. Then everything he’d made him do. He didn’t make him do that, he gave him exactly what he wanted.

Then she made his chest squeeze. He thought of the first time they met. He didn’t think much of her but she somehow won him over with her kindness. He recalled the realisation of how much he liked her, he wasn’t even reluctant enough not to think it was love in that instant. When she saw the loose stitch in his glove and pulled it away like it was nothing. She remarked on the little fix as ‘perfect’ and he couldn’t help his doofy grin and the line he spouted after, ‘not as perfect as you.’

And as he thought of her, he conjured all those hopes he had for them. The life he made for them in his mind. He was going to give it all to her but he just wanted a little fun first. That wasn’t so bad. He could still give it to her and that was all she wanted after all. She wanted the Steve she knew. She wanted the nuclear family and white picket fence. He wanted that too.

When the papers came to announce his dismissal from SHIELD, it felt like freedom. He didn’t care about saving the world anymore. He got out of bed these days and worked out, went for a run, and came back as he went about his own work. As he searched through the servers they tried to block him from and overrode the new restrictions. They always thought he was some clueless idiot from the past.

He could still have that life. All he had to do was find her. He smiled at the screen as he went over everything he had so far. The whiff of her blew out at the stateline but now he could go wherever he wanted without a leash. He could find her if he only tried a little harder.

👥

Steve gave notice on the lease and traded in his car for something with better mileage and more space. He sold everything that was his life before and headed out on the road with a new lease on life. He wasn’t the Captain anymore, he wasn’t the saviour, he only wanted to be one thing; a husband, a father, hers.

When he reached the state line, he stopped for a while at a motel and asked around. He had her picture and everyone was all too eager to talk to Steve Rogers. He found her car at a used dealership and got the plates and make of the one he’d switched her for. That was a start.

Then he moved on, stopping along the way for a day here and there to relax. He had time. He had confidence again. He did this everyday, this was her first time, she couldn’t outrun him forever. He had the skills and the savings to get him a lot further than she ever could.

He drove through several more states before he hit another block. A second car traded but the dealer was not as talkative. That meant he had to break in after dark and that was time he didn’t feel like spending on some stubborn bitch. But he got it done and moved on.

Then there was a week of doubt and desperation. What if he was wrong? What if this was all a part of her plan? Maybe she was smart enough to lead him in the wrong direction. Maybe Bucky was helping her. Maybe they were together. That thought made him livid.

He took off in the opposite direction but ended up with nothing but desert heat and rural nothingness. He turned around and assured himself that neither of them were smarter than him. He returned to the same point and slowly pieced together the clues until he was sure enough to keep on.

He was getting close. He could sense it. He pulled out his phone and opened those videos he’d taken from Bucky and the pictures of that day they’d made a mess of her. His hand was nothing compared to her and even if he came, he found himself dissatisfied. He ended up cursing only to start again a minute later.

That night he started in the bed then ended up in the shower and before he could get out of the bathroom, he was gripping his dick as he leaned on the counter and muttered her name over and over. He was impatient. He needed her soon or he was going to go mad.

He hardly slept as he tossed and turned in the hotel room. He checked out early but pulled over on the country road to get off again. It made him angry. She should be the one fucking him, he shouldn’t be using his own hand. He shouldn’t be alone. She should be there with his dick down her throat as he drove them to their suburban paradise.

He passed another city sign and spent a day running circles without a catch. He pressed on through the night, not wanting another motel bed, and pulled in at a station just outside a small town. He gassed up and chewed on jerky as he set out once more.

On a whim, he stopped in the small town and stopped for a meal at the local fish and chip place. It was unusual for the area but the fries were crispy and not overly salted and the fish breaded perfectly. He kept his hat on and his face down. He didn’t need to be recognized although his poor disguise seemed to draw attention.

“Louise,” the voice chimed with the bell, “gosh, I’m so sorry, I almost forgot.”

Steve looked up as his heart fluttered. He saw the green uniform shirt and black pants and at first, he was ready to deflate. But the way she walked, and her face, the way she glowed and smiled at the woman behind the till, he knew it was her. He’d found her.

“I am so stupid! I keep forgetting everything,” she counted out the money from her wallet, “I’ve been craving this all week and I’m halfway home and I’m like oh my god,” she chattered on, that way she did when they’d first met.

“Not at all, darlin’,” Louise handed her the parcel of fish and chips, “you go on enjoy.”

“Thank you!” she sang sweetly and scurried back through the door.

Steve stood slowly and left his tab on the table with a thoughtlessly generous tip. He adjusted his cap and headed out the door slowly. She wasn’t moving as fast as she made her way down the street. She swung the tied parcel from her hand and he noticed how her hips swayed. There was something different about her, something he liked.

He kept the same pace, sure to hang back so that she didn’t notice him. She led him through a park and she stopped to smile at a party of ducks in the small pond. She carried on over the small bridge and he sat on a bench when she looked back. She didn’t seem to notice as an older couple passed him and he hid behind them.

He got back up just as she was at the exit. He trailed her back to the streets and to an old brick building with an iron sign above the front door. She let herself in and he stood outside with a smirk.

“Perfect,” he said to himself as he backed away and strode down the sidewalk, “always so perfect for me.”

423 notes · View notes

tchallasbabymama · 3 years ago

Text

Instinct

Hello, fellow whores. You asked for it and I hope I delivered. I present to you: T’Challa in heat❤️‍🔥! This one had me blushing, y’all.

The next request I work on will either be sugar daddy silver fox T’Challa or Star-Lord T’Challa. I know I just threw the latter in the lineup, but apparently, people are seriously feeling the lack of Star-Lord T content here and I want to do what I can to help fill the void.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and, as always, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood! Enjoy😘

Word count: 4,903

CW: SMUT, infidelity

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Instinct [instiNG(k)t] noun: an innate, typically fixed pattern of behavior in animals in response to certain stimuli.

For centuries, the descendants of the great Bashenga retained their hold on the Wakandan throne. Challenge Day after Challenge Day, they beat their opponents and were rewarded by Bast allowing them to ingest the heart-shaped herb. The herb imbued them with a panther’s strength, speed, and instincts, effectively turning each of them from an ordinary man into the Black Panther. Now, strength and speed are pretty self-explanatory, but what exactly were their instincts?

When T’Challa was crowned king and ingested the heart-shaped herb, he visited the ancestral plane and reconnected with his baba. Their reunion was one full of tears, but most importantly, T’Chaka took the time to impart his wisdom to his son. T’Challa spent hours talking to his baba about life, what to expect as king, and, most importantly, what to expect as the Black Panther.

T’Chaka had warned him about what was to come, but until it happened to him months later, T’Challa was in denial. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. When T’Challa woke up one sunny Wednesday morning, he felt strange. He felt feverish but not sick. Like most days, his morning wood stood at attention, tenting the crisp white sheets that laid across his lower half. He looked at the clock and saw that he had plenty of time to take care of himself, so he rolled to his side and reached for the tub of shea butter in his nightstand. T’Challa bit his lip as he rubbed his hands together to melt it down, but when he reached down to stroke his length, he nearly bit clean through it. He was much more sensitive than usual, and he wondered why...then it hit him. He jumped up and grabbed his kimoyo beads with his slippery hands, and he frantically opened his calendar.

“Twelve weeks,” T’Challa groaned as he counted backward to the night he became the Black Panther (the second time.) “Fuckkkk.”

He was in heat, and it was only going to get worse. T’Challa wracked his brain for ideas on what to do to fix his problem, but all he could hear was T’Chaka’s words echoing through his head.

“You should find a partner sooner rather than later. The instinct will take over you, and it will become unbearable if you do not have anyone to aid you.”

T’Challa had been so busy trying to rebuild the kingdom that his cousin damn near broke that he had forgotten to look for someone. Sure, there was Nakia, but she had moved to Oakland and their relationship quickly fizzled out. Then, there was that one Dora Milaje after he regained the throne, but that was a one-night thing and she went back to her wife the next morning. He needed to find someone, but who?

As the king’s mind wandered through his options, sweat beads began to form on his chiseled body. He knew he’d be no good today, so T’Challa typed up a message to his family and staff that he would be taking the day off. With that taken care of, all he needed to do was figure out how to get through this heat in one piece. T’Challa looked down at his dick again. It was swollen with need, and he watched as droplets of precum escaped from his tip. He couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bear through the sensitivity. Carefully, as though he might hurt himself, he reached his hand down and grabbed it in his hand. The whimper he let out was foreign to his ears, but it was all he could do when he felt the intense wave of arousal wash over him. He gritted his teeth as he began to slowly move his hand up and down his shaft. It seemed that everywhere his hand went, it left a deep burning sensation in its wake, but he just couldn’t stop. He rutted into his hand, and as soon as his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, he came undone quicker than he ever had before. His body jerked as the milky white substance spilled over his hand, and it seemed that he had plenty to give. However, instead of leaving him sated, all that did was arouse him more.

T’Challa had made a mess all over himself and decided to take a shower, but every touch of his hand, or even the water, drove him up the walls. He needed some pussy, fast. He exited the shower and allowed his body to air dry as he moisturized his mahogany skin. Minutes passed before he noticed that he was still massaging himself, too caught up in the sensation to notice the passage of time. His dick was rock hard again, and he groaned in frustration as he attempted to stuff it into silk lounge pants. He called for his breakfast to be brought to him and spent the day in his quarters, alternating between desperately jacking off and going through his contacts to find the right person. It had been so long since he had opened that figurative little black book that all of his usuals were taken, and unfortunately for him, they were hellbent on remaining faithful for some reason. As the day went on, his hunger grew in intensity, and it got to the point where neither his hand nor his sex toys could cut it anymore. He felt lost, he felt horny beyond belief, and he felt...famished.

T’Challa looked at the time again and realized that he hadn’t eaten in hours. He placed another order from the kitchen and waited impatiently for it to arrive. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait for the food to be brought up; he was impatient because every moment that passed without him touching himself brought him more pain. He didn’t need the poor kitchen staff walking in on him feverishly pleasuring himself, so he just sat there and attempted to focus his mind elsewhere. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Room service,” a melodic voice called out, and T’Challa smiled to himself at his friend’s playful tone. It was Xoliswa. He hadn’t seen her in almost a week, and he was sure she was out of town, yet here she was bringing him his dinner. Xoliswa started working in the kitchen at the palace seven years ago, and they grew close over the years. He was even in her wedding.

T’Challa unlocked the door with his beads, and she came right on in with the cart full of more food than he usually ordered.

“Somebody’s hungry today,” she joked. Just as T’Challa was about to respond with some smartass remark, an aroma hit him square in the face. It definitely wasn’t coming from the heaping portions of doro wot and rum cake he ordered. It was sickly sweet and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, as well as something else.

The king began to salivate. “New perfume?”

“No, just the usual,” Xoliswa sighed. “Why?”

“No reason. You just smell different today is all,” he gulped to keep from drooling at her smooth, brown legs that were always on display. His eyes traveled up to the curve of her hips and the thickness of her waist before grazing over her delicious-looking chest and landing on her plump lips. Of course, he had noticed her looks before, and they would playfully banter and flirt back and forth from time to time, but this was the first time he was really seeing her beauty. Not only could he see it, but he could smell her from across the room, and his body was reacting in ways he couldn’t control. His dick sprung up and immediately started to harden as he watched her ass bounce in her flowy shorts when she pushed the cart out to the balcony. She had gone too far away, and he felt the intense need to be closer to her, so he bolted up and made his way outside with her.

“Here, let me help you.” T’Challa quickly picked up the heavy tray before she could and placed it on the table before taking his usual seat.

“I thought you didn’t feel good today,” she crossed her arms over her chest, unintentionally pushing her ample breasts even closer together. His body burned at the sight, and he visualized his lips wrapped around her undoubtedly perky nipples. He needed her body on his, but he knew he shouldn’t. Xoliswa was a friend, a confidant, a married woman...

“I don’t,” T’Challa cleared his throat and tried to focus his mind on anything but her. It wasn’t working, though. “But, uh, it’s not what you think. I just needed a day, that’s all.”

“Want to talk about it?” Xoliswa asked as she leaned against the balcony. He was acting strange, and it concerned her. “You know I’m here for you if you need me.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled darkly as something flared inside him.

“Why not?” she tilted her head to the side and uncrossed her arms. He would’ve sighed in relief, but she just made it worse by stepping closer to him. Xoliswa placed her hands on his shoulders the way she always did and began kneading his bare flesh. Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one fighting back their arousal. Xoliswa had a small crush on T’Challa since the moment she laid eyes on his muscular frame. Had she not been in a relationship the entire time she’d known him, she would’ve dropped down on her knees and given him the business by now. However, Xoliswa loved her husband and wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing...except for the occasional nights where she closes her eyes and all she can see is him. All she can feel is the king.

T’Challa let out a low groan as her hands worked out his stress, and as usual, the sound made Xoliswa flood the panties that had gotten wedged between her fat pussy lips. The scent of her arousal traveled straight to his nostrils, and his pupils blew wide. He jumped up and crossed the balcony in just a few quick strides, needing to get away from her before he truly lost himself to his lust.

“Seriously, what’s up with you today?!”

“N-nothing, you just...you smell so good, and- Xo, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Xoliswa narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him...but then her eyes fell to the large dickprint in his silk pants. She had seen him in those and similar pants several times before, and although they always left little to the imagination, she had never seen him in his full Bast-given glory. But this time? This time she could almost make out every vein through the soft fabric, which made her pussy spasm with need and release more wetness.

T’Challa could see that Xoliswa was staring right at his dick, and he knew she liked what she saw by the whiff of sweet honey that wafted his way. A low rumbling started in his chest like an engine revving as the burning need in his loins intensified.

Xoliswa spoke barely above a whisper, stunned but in awe of the man before her, “Why are you-”

“My heat,” he sighed.

“Your what?”

“My heat!” T’Challa snarled, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Any other time, he would assume he had scared her, but he knew better now. He could hear her heartbeat, he could smell her dripping pussy, and he could see her hardened nipples and the way her luscious thighs rubbed together in a feeble attempt to quell the throbbing between her legs.

“W-what’s that?”

T’Challa gestured for her to take a seat, and she lowered herself into the chair across from his, squirming in her pooled fluids. Her obedience just made him harder, if that was at all possible. He gingerly sat down across from her and just stared for a moment, her breathing getting shallower with each inhale.

“One of my newly acquired panther instincts requires me to, uh, mate every three months.”

“So...you basically ovulate four times a year,” Xoliswa joked in an attempt to break the tension, but he began to growl at her again, causing them both to shudder at the other’s arousal.

“It’s more than being a little horny and fertile, Xo. I have to- no, I need to find a release, or I’ll go crazy. My whole body is on fire, and masturbating just makes it worse. I’ve been in here all day-”

“You’ve been in here jacking off all day?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not helping?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you tried-”

“Yes. Whatever it is, I’ve tried it. Trust me.”

Silence descended upon the pair as they both stared at each other, stuck in a lustful feedback loop, chests heaving and mouths watering. Xoliswa was the first to break, so she stood and headed for the door. She had to get out of there, the atmosphere was too thick, and she couldn’t think straight with him staring at her like a piece of meat. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer or she might do something she’d regret later, but when he grabbed her wrist and looked up at her with those pitch-black eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

“Xoliswa, please,” he begged. He knew he had no business asking that of her, but he was desperate, and she just looked so damn delicious.

She bit her lip as her eyes traveled back down to his bulge that had started leaking through the fabric of his pants.

“Shit…”

“You like what you see?” his voice was lower than she’d ever heard. It seemed like everything he did turned her on more and more. T’Challa took a deep inhale so he could know for sure, and his head swarmed with the smell of her. “Yeah, you like it. I can smell that sweet pussy; it’s dripping for me, Xo.”

He had never spoken to her like that before, and every word lured her further into his trap. She had a brief moment of clarity and pulled her wrist from his grasp, taking a step back.

“T-T’Challa, I’m married-”

“Tell your body that, then,” he grumbled as he stood and stalked closer to her. She backed up with every step he took until she was wedged between his body and the doorframe. His arms went up on either side of her, and he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath tickle her lips. “Tell me right now: do you want me?”

Her eyes darted around, desperate to look at anything but the coal irises that would surely draw her in. “I-I-”

“Say it, Xo. I want you so fucking bad,” T’Challa growled with his face buried in her neck, imprinting her scent deep in his brain. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but take a little bite. As soon as his teeth made contact with her skin, she let out a light moan and set his body into overdrive. He pressed his hips into her, and the heat of her skin made him whimper. The noise shocked her, and she realized just how much he needed her...as if the ten inches of clothed steel pressing into her stomach wasn’t enough of a sign.

Xoliswa had secretly wanted this for a long time. In her dreams, he’d fuck her good and deep and leave her a sobbing, leaking mess. Truthfully, if he had ever come onto her before this, she probably would have caved then, too, but she thought he was too gentlemanly to do so and pushed the dirty fantasy to the back of her mind. Boy, was she wrong. Right now, T’Challa couldn’t give a shit about chivalry and certainly didn’t care about her husband. Right now, all he wanted- no, all he needed was her body.

She pulled his curls to remove him from her neck, and he growled again at the titillating pain and the loss of contact.

“You want me?” she whispered, her lips mere centimeters from his.

“Mmm, more than anything.”

Xoliswa’s hand traveled down his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. T’Challa’s lip found its way between his teeth again as he struggled to maintain composure, but it all flew out the window when he felt her hand wrap around his throbbing length.

“Fuck! Xo, stop playing and-”

“You need me?” she teased as she pulled his pants down over his hips and let them pool at his feet. She wrapped both of her hands around his girth and stroked him softly. He was so sensitive that he jerked away from her hand, but she grabbed him and pulled him back in. Xoliswa had dreamed of this day, so why not make her dream come true?

Suddenly, T’Challa’s self-control went out of the window as he thrust into her hands and wrapped one of his much larger hands around her throat. She stared back at him with lust clouding her eyes as he met her lips for a hungry kiss. The taste of her on his tongue drove him wild, and she felt his dick begin to twitch. She picked up her pace and gripped him a little tighter, making him stick his tongue further down her throat. She melted into him. The firm grip he had on her made her knees weak, and just as they began to buckle, he pulled his lips from hers and said the three magic words he had uttered so many times in her dreams.

“On your knees.”

Xoliswa fell to the ground and looked up at him with her mouth opened wide for him to use. And use it, he did. T’Challa was surprised she could take all of him without any training, but he guessed her husband might have been around his size.

Her husband. He had a married woman on her knees, slobbering up and down his shaft. He had Xoliswa on her knees…

Just the thought of how wrong this was turned him on even more, and as if the same thought had occurred to her, Xoliswa started sucking harder. The spit foaming in the corners of her mouth and running down her chin soaked her chest, and the king longed to see more. He reached down and ripped her shirt down the middle, freeing her breasts from the confines of modern clothing. T’Challa grinned when he saw that not only was she not wearing a bra, but her nipples stood erect like two Hershey’s kisses ready for him to devour. Just the way he liked.

Xoliswa didn’t care that he had ruined her shirt; all she cared about was making her king cum. She wanted to taste him and swallow everything he had to give, so she grew impatient and turned it up a notch, fondling his balls in her hands as she sucked on him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, and he gripped her locs in his fist to hold her down on him as he exploded into her mouth. Splashes of him coated her throat, and she swallowed every last drop he gifted to her. She blinked up at him with those innocent-looking eyes as she sucked him like a straw, milking him for all he’s worth. Normally, he would get overstimulated at this point, but that seemed impossible. Xoliswa gave him the best head he’s had in a long time, but it still wasn’t enough to sate him.

T’Challa pulled her head off him, and the bridge of spit that connected them was a sight to see. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, kissing her once more to taste his saltiness on her tongue.

“You still...want...this pussy?” Xoliswa asked between kisses.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he grunted as he pushed up on her again.

Xoliswa pushed him away, and he looked at her like she had betrayed him. His face relaxed when he noticed the feral look in her eyes and the way her pheromones filled the air.

“Take what you need.”

T’Challa saw red, and the next thing he knew, he was buried deep inside her as he pounded her into the mattress. The arch in her back deepened as he fucked her rougher than her husband could have ever dreamed of. Xoliswa struggled to see as she reached for the sheets to hold onto, but he wouldn’t let her. T’Challa pinned her hands behind her back and continued to plow into her as she screamed.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that, baby! Ooooh, T’Challa-”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

“Then take it. Fucking take it!” he roared as he released inside her, but neither was ready to stop. Xoliswa loved how his cum felt dripping out of her, making her pussy even wetter than it already was. Keeping it juicy for him to do whatever he needed to do to her body.

“This tight fucking pussy, Xo,” he groaned as he slowed down and grinded into her, stirring her insides. His heavy hand came down on her ass, and she let out the most adorable squeak. He smiled and did it again and again, her pussy tightening around him with every strike until she couldn’t take it anymore. Xoliswa’s body convulsed as she came all over the king’s dick.

“T’Challaaaa!” she wailed, and he stopped to massage her cheeks.

“Too much?”

She looked back at him and smiled mischievously with a glint in her eye. “No, my king.”

“I’m your king?” he teased while rubbing her clit, making her hips circle on his dick as he stood still and let her work.

“Yessss,” she whined.

“Then cum for your king one more time. I have another load for you,” he whispered in her ear with his teeth firmly gripping the lobe. His fingers tickled the underside of her clit, and she bucked her hips. “That’s your spot, huh?”

“Y-yes, my king!”

He alternated between circling her clit and strumming the underside for barely a few moments before her pussy began to grip him again. T’Challa leaned back and watched the way her pussy spasmed on him. He couldn’t hold out and exploded inside her once more.

“Mmmm, baby, I love when you do that.”

“You love when I cum in this pussy?”

“Mmmhm,” her voice grew higher in pitch the more she felt him twitch inside her.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

T’Challa pulled out slowly, and she moaned as his bulbous head dragged across her g-spot. He flipped her over with ease and slid right back into her slippery canal. She loved how full he made her feel, how he stretched her walls and beat the breaks off her pussy. But this? This felt so good.

His hips moved slowly as he stroked deep into her and gazed into her eyes.

“I just need one more, babygirl. One more, and I think I’ll be good, ok?”

“Whatever you need, my king,” Xoliswa whispered against his lips and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and he chuckled darkly.

“You want me in there deep, don’t you?”

“As deep as you can go, baby.”

“You’re filthy. Does your husband know what a little slut you are?”

Xoliswa released all over him again.

“Oh, you like when I talk about him when I’m in these guts? You like being reminded of how naughty you are, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Xoliswa nodded with tears threatening to fall from her eyes from how good it felt to have T’Challa inside her.

“Let me ask you something,” he leaned in close to her ear and thrust harder. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Xoliswa frantically shook her head, “N-no!”

“Then you come to me whenever you need a taste of what a king can do for you.”

“Yes, baby!” she keened as he picked up the pace and dropped his weight on her.

“You know this pussy is mine, now, right? He can use it if you want him to, but this shit belongs to me. You’re fucking mine, Xoliswa.”

“T’Challa-”

“Mmmhm, say my name, babygirl. Tell them who owns this tight little pussy,” he punctuated those last three words with thrusts so deep she swore she could feel it in her ribs. “Who owns you?”

“T’Challaaaa!”

His eyes rolled back in his head at hearing his name fall from her lips. Her voice was shaky and hoarse, but she screamed his name over and over again as his hips pounded into hers, the curve of his dick angling just right to keep her creaming all over him.

“Fuck, baby, here it comes. You ready?”

Xoliswa looked him dead in the eye and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Cum in your pussy, Black Panther.”

He hadn’t expected her to call him that, but it lit something within him, and he came harder than he ever had before. He bit into her neck as he spasmed inside her, pumping her full of his essence. She came from the feeling of him releasing so much and putting it right where it belonged. Their bodies fed off each other, and when one would spasm, it would trigger the other to cum. T’Challa peppered sweet kisses all over Xoliswa’s face and spoke to her in hushed tones, “Thank you, babygirl.”

Xoliswa couldn’t speak; she could only moan incoherently. Minutes passed before their bodies began to tire of the constant state of arousal, and they slowly pulled apart. She whimpered as she felt their fluids escape her and drip slowly down her crack, and he could only watch in awe. He had never produced so much, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Xoliswa or his heat or a combination of both. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

“Call Abdul. Tell him you have to work tonight,” he rasped, making a devilish smile appear on her face. She knew she was in for the night of her life, and just the thought of what was to come had her playing with her overstimulated clit. He swatted her hand away and replaced it with his own. “Call him. Now. Make sure your camera is off.”

T’Challa kissed from her neck down to her chocolate nipples and took a bite, making her yip at the sensation. “Be quiet, or he’ll catch you. You don’t want that, do you?”

“N-no, my king,” she stuttered out as she pressed Abdul’s contact card and called him.

“What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or are you slacking off with T’Challa again,” he joked, and Xoliswa locked eyes with a smug T’Challa as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

“N-no, I’m at work,” she struggled to speak as T’Challa trailed his tongue down her body and suctioned his lips around her clit. She snapped her legs shut around his head, making him pry them open with a menacing growl.

“What was that?” Abdul asked.

“What was what?” Xoliswa chuckled nervously.

“I thought I heard something. Anyways, what’s up, sweetie?”

“I, uh-” she stopped herself and muted the call for a moment to let out a moan from the pits of her soul as T’Challa showed no mercy on her. His tongue masterfully maneuvered around her clit like he designed it himself, and the three slender fingers curling inside her coaxed another orgasm out of her.

“Take him off mute right fucking now,” T’Challa ordered with a mouth full of pussy.

“Hello? Xo?”

She scrambled to unmute the call and calm her breathing down as the king nibbled on her labia and sped his fingers up inside her.

“I’m here, baby. I-have-to-work-late-so-I’m-staying-at-the-palace-tonight!”

“Wait, slow down. I can barely understand you. Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she giggled as T’Challa nibbled on her inner thighs. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“Oh, no problem. Don’t let T’Challa work you too hard, ok?”

“I won’t!” she squeaked.

“Good. You get back to work, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tell him you love him,” T’Challa whispered against her pussy lips, and Xoliswa couldn’t help but oblige.

“Abdul?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I-I love you.”

“I love you too, Xo. Call me when you get off,” he blew her a kiss through the phone, and she hung up right as T’Challa started chuckling.

“You almost got us caught!” she fussed.

“You liked it. Don’t lie.”

Xoliswa bit her lip to hide her smile, but it didn’t work.

“Maybe a little.”

“Mmmhm. Nasty slut, letting me use you like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Xoliswa’s pussy jumped, and T’Challa couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Maybe you should teach me a lesson,” Xoliswa moaned as she ground her hips on his fingers, and his dick hardened right back up. “Or punish me.”

“Fuck, Xo, where have you been all my life?” he groaned and pulled his fingers from her, lining the head of his dick up with her entrance.

“Married...to my husband,” Xoliswa teased. T’Challa’s nostrils flared, and she knew it was on.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @dersha89

#cecewritessometimes #oneshot #smut #t'challa fic #t'challa x oc #black!oc #Youtube

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years ago

Text

Broken trust, pt.2

Part one

Summary: Too quickly does the Darkling find his rogue Sun Summoner, but his arrogance will cost him.

Warnings: slight fluff, angst

==========================

Faith – Y/N’s floated away from her a very long time ago, like a leaf being pulled away on the tide, and into the sea to become lost and alone, likely drowned. But she had faith in Aleksander. She always trusted him, not doubting he’d protect her. That’s why this is much more painful than it had to be.

“Running doesn't matter, I'll hunt you down if I have to.” Kirigan spoke through gritted teeth, as if he knew she could hear him, feel the palpable anger and betrayal he struggled to contain.

And still she ran. She ran without looking back, cutting through the forest with her breath caught in her throat. She ran, flinching with branches leaving cuts across her face, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, he’d find her and if he found her, Y/N didn’t know if they’d both walk away unharmed.

Finding a cave, she ventured inside. She sat curled up against a wall, shivering in the darkness. She clutched the kefta she wore in Little palace, clinging to his already faded scent. Just hours ago, his arms were wrapped around her, his lips claimed hers. She was his, undoubtedly in love with the very man who turned out to be the enemy.

A sob escapes her, whimpering as her hand covers her mouth to assure her silence. Risking being found because she needs to cry is stupid. Aleksander would expect her to cry.

“Where have you been?” The Grisha asks, breathless as it seems.

His presence alone commands awe, respect and his charisma can make any human stop and forget what they’re doing so long as it pleases him. He is magnetic, electric, someone you can get lost in before knowing what’s happening.

“Answer me.” He insists, lower his head to her level. His eyes narrow at her quivering lips, just then realizing she’s shaking.

“Leave us!” He orders the Grisha who came running once the light reached them outside the tent.

He taps her shoulder, the air around them turning static with contact, “What is happening?” Her shaky voice sounds and his eyes soften.

“You truly don’t know?” Raising an eyebrow, the Grisha steadies Y/N before letting her go. “My name is general Kirigan and you”, he points at her, his forehead wrinkling momentarily, “are the Sun summoner.”

A breathless chuckle escapes her, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m a map-maker.”

“No”, Kirigan raises an eyebrow. He steps closer, his hands gripping her arms gently, “You are a Grisha.”

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flood with tears. One by one, they make tracks down her cheeks, stunning Kirigan.

“You need not worry”, wiping the tears off her left cheek with his thumb, Kirigan smiles softly, “I will protect you.”

Huffing, Y/N shakes her head. “I never should have trusted him.”

Suddenly, she felt her airways constrict. Gasping for air, she clutches her chest, unable to breathe or think clearly. Darkness etched into her vision, blurring it until there was nothing left. She felt her mind drift, the last she heard was a whisper she once adored.

“I’ll carry her back.” Aleksander states, his eyes never moving from her. He didn’t expect to find her, especially not as quickly as he did, but the ring she wore lead them straight to her location. Once again, she trusted the wrong person and once again, it brought them closer together.

Upon his return, he had laid her on his bed, hoping to speak to her somewhat peacefully this time around. If she could just feel the way his heart aches for her, maybe then she’d believe him he’d never do anything to bring her harm.

Groggy, Y/N groans. Her hand moves to her forehead, rubbing her temples.

“You’re safe”, Aleksander tells her, but the sound of his voice made her open her eyes wide, sitting up so quickly her vision blurred.

“St-stay away!” She pushed herself back, hitting the headboard.

“I won’t hurt you. I saved your life." Kirigan leans in, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"How? By taking my freedom, mind and identity?" She snaps at him, her nostrils flared with frustration and anger bubbling up to the surface.

"The chains are broken now.” Kirigan sighs, “You know the truth.” Wetting his lips, his eyebrows knit together, “Are you really free?"

Shaking her head, she narrows her eyes at him, "You are still my captive, no matter how beloved you once were."

Giggling, Y/N stumbles back and into the table. A few figurines fall to the ground, but it doesn’t seem to phase Aleksander who smirks as he rests his hands at each side of the table, essentially trapping her.

Raising an eyebrow, she looks up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Are you about to ravish me, oh sweet Darkling?”

Chuckling, he cranes his neck just enough for the tip of his nose to brush hers. Hearing her inhale sharply and hold her breath, Aleksander couldn’t help but peck her lips. It felt innocent enough, something that wouldn’t scare her but would satisfy his need to feel her closer to him.

“Don’t go looking for trouble, sunshine”, his lips twitch, amused how her hands have clutched his hips, pulling him closer to her.

“Maybe I like trouble”, she whispers, breathing heavily so much so he could count each and every breath passing the lips he wished her could kiss for an eternity, uninterrupted.

Biting her lower lip, her hand rests on his left cheek, caressing the scruffy beard with her thumb. “Come on, Darkling”, she teases, “What are you afraid of?”

“You”, he responds without a second thought. His response came so quickly, catching Y/N off guard. “I’m afraid of loving you”, he exhales through his nose, his clenching under the palm of her hand before he speaks again, “Afraid of losing you.”

“Please”, crosses his lips and Y/N’s heart skips a beat. Aleksander is a man of many virtues, but begging wasn’t one of them. He’s the man who demands and makes things happen. Such men don’t strike you as someone who plead often. And this was Aleksander pleading, asking her to do something irrational, to trust him, the only thing she couldn’t do.

“What could you possibly say to make this okay?” She swallows thickly, averting her gaze as if looking at him for too long could destroy her very essence.

"They called me the Darkling as an insult. You were the only one who used it as a term of endearment." Aleksander reaches for her hand, but she pulls away once again. “Let me put your mind at peace.”

Pressing her lips, she exhales through her nose, “You made me into a weapon. I'll never find peace.”

“I didn’t make you into anything”, he remarks, “You were born as my equal, to be my other half.”

Nodding to herself, she swipes her thumb under her left eye, “I sure feel like your equal now”, glancing at him she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her bottom lip, “You can still do the right thing. I believe there is a good person inside of you. The man I fell in love with must be somewhere underneath the darkness you're flaunting. Be him.”

His eyes narrow, clouded by his own sorrow, “It's too late to go back. You can't even look at me.” Standing, with his back turned on her, Aleksander allows tears to fill his eyes, “Do you even love me?”

“Of course I still love you, but trusting you is a different question.” With a heavy sigh parting her lips, she stands too. “You can’t force me to stay with you and expect unconditional love. That’s not how this works.”

Blinking fast, Aleksander refused to look at her. All she’d see is his weakness – his feelings for her have made him soft, too easily swayed by emotions and he mustn’t reveal it.

“You can’t catch sunshine, my dearest Darkling”, she wraps her arms around his waist. Resting her right cheek on his back, between his shoulder blades, she pulled him into her embrace, “You need to let me go and find my own way.”

“You’d be dead by nightfall.” He snaps, trying to push her off but she holds onto him even tighter, silently weeping.

How can she stay when every cell inside her body is screaming for her to leave? How can she leave when every single molecule she’s made up from is aching for just one more touch?

“If you love me, you’ll have to trust me”, her voice is shaky, unsteady as she feels. “Staying will make me resent you. I need some distance, time.”

“I can’t”, he shakes his head, wiping his tears away before she can see any.

“Then I need you to remember”, her hold on him lessens.

With a frown etched on his forehead, he turns to her with a lump at the back of his throat, “Remember what?” His words rip through her like glass shards do to skin, but he can barely tell if she’s shaking because he’s started to tremble himself.

A smile breaks on her lips, just as bright as the light she once emitted to contrast his. “Remember I love you.”

And once again, without a warning, Aleksander found himself on his knees.

He didn’t love her, he desired her most of all. He desired her gaze on him as desperately as the air he needs to breath. He desired her skin against his as the food he’d need to live. He desired her lips to speak his name in ecstasy more than the water as he thirsted for her light more than anything else in this world.

And in his desire for her he had lost himself entirely. He had lost his cold exterior, becoming putty in her hands. He had lost his ruthlessness he planned to aim her way, directing it to any and all who’d harm her. He had lost his resolve to stay away, so he’d give into her with all he is.

So with that desire and the loss of him, he hated her for all of it. He hated her with burning passion. He hated her so much it consumed him.

Or so he told himself so. For in the end, he did nothing to push her away.

He couldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Logic demanded him to stop her, but his entire logic went out the window the day he found her in his tent, stealing his grapes. He’s no longer a part of the living anymore either. She’s become his cornerstone and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it didn’t change. It’s become factual.

He didn’t hate her, not even a little, not at all. Aleksander Morozova, Aleksander Kirigan, The Darkling, the unforgiving general, the Black Heretic, the Shadow King – all of him loved all of her, even as she had put a knife through his heart. The very heart that beat for her was now bleeding because of her. A betrayal, he realized, the very same as she had felt when she learned of his lies.

“We will see each other again”, she croaks, her tears crashing around him.

Gasping for air, he desperately fights the pain so he can keep his eyes open longer. This might not kill him, but it will slow him down. This time around, she’ll run and as she takes off the ring, he realizes it won’t be so easy to find her again.

She kisses his lips, so softly he’s unsure if it’s a well crafted dream.

“Moya lyubov'”, he manages to say as she stands and heads to the door. He can’t speak, but he’s screaming on the inside, hoping she’d look back at him. If she does, there was hope.

Reaching for the knob, Y/N sighs, glancing over her shoulder at her Darkling with unimaginable pain tearing her apart. But sometimes you have to break in order to create something more beautiful. She knew he’d hate her for it, but she walked out the door anyway.

PART 3

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova #aleksander x reader #kirigan x reader

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eternally-writing · 3 years ago

Text

just right | jjk.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff

theme: established relationship!au , idol!au

rating: PG

warnings: themes of struggling with self-worth, reader has body image issues

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: Because when you can’t see for yourself how beautiful you are, Jungkook wants to remind you how you’re Just Right.

Banner by me! In case you can’t tell, this fic is inspired by GOT7’s Just Right, one of my favorite k-pop songs <3

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

A lot of girlfriends of idols tried not to watch their boyfriends on stage.You had never shared the same sentiment, wanting to support your boyfriend however you could, but as you watched your boyfriend, Jungkook, stand next to so many beautiful female idols, all of whom ARMYs were shipping with him, you couldn’t help but feel inadequate.

And you mean, you couldn’t blame them. Jungkook was something of a Greek god pretty much - tall, chiseled, and handsome. He was the perfect guy, a golden boy if you will. Taking in your form on the couch - sweatpants and one of Jungkook’s old tshirts on your body (it wasn’t as loose on you as you hoped it would be), the difference between you too became painfully apparent. You hugged your mug of hot chocolate chooser to your chest to calm the feeling that was taking over your body.

You knew you would only be hurt by looking at twitter, but you couldn’t help but pull out your phone and open your burner account. As the hateful comments continued on and on across your screen, you couldn’t hold back the tears that were clouding your vision from overflowing. What were just ideas in your head had manifested on your social media. Burying your head in between your knees you left them all flow, knowing that the moment Jungkook came back you would have to turn your feelings off since you didn’t want to burden him.

At the end of the day, you couldn’t see how they could possibly be not right. I mean just looking at Jungkook and looking at you would easily show the differences between you two. Frankly, you had never imagined dating an idol - the journey for you and Jungkook getting together had been laden with challenges, and honestly if you didn’t love him so much you would’ve given up a long time ago.

But sometimes, is love not enough?

——

Too caught up in your emotions, you didn’t even recognize the sound of your apartment door opening. Jungkook was also too caught up in his excitement at finally getting to rest after a long day of filming, and it was only after he put his keys down and stepped into the living room did he notice your sobbing form on the couch. He couldn’t help but let out a silent gasp at the sight, shocked at seeing you so emotional and helpless. Rushing to you, he knelt down in front of you on the couch, taking your head into his hands and trying to wipe as many stray tears as he could as they fell continuously.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” whispered Jungkook, trying to speak softly so as to not startle you.

Trying to control your sobs, you still ended up gasping between words trying to keep your composure. “I just, I can’t do this Kook, I can’t do this anymore.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, no, what are you talking about?”

Tryin again in a more composed manner, you repeated your words back to him

Jungkook shook his head again, tension building in his body. “No this can’t be it, this doesn’t make sense. Did I do something? Did I say something? Is this something I didn’t do?”. He grabbed your hands in his and clutched them in his grasp, afraid that if he let go that you would drift away from him. “There must be something I can do. Baby, I’d crawl to the ends of the Earth for you, you know that. Please.” He pleaded.

You knew Jungkook, you knew him so well that there was nothing that you could say that could convince him otherwise. Well, nothing except this.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

The words spilling out of your mouth caught both of you offguard. And the way Jungkook’s composure shattered in front of you made you almost regret lying to him. Even as the tears started spilling his eyes, you didn’t say anything more, trying to keep your composure. Jungkook wiped his tears as quickly as they fell, his sadness quickly turning into a different emotion.

“Bullshit. I don’t believe you. Look me in the eyes and say it Y/N, because I can’t wrap my head around this.”

And you tried, you tried to look right at him and say it. But you had never lied to Jungkook before, so it sure as hell was almost impossible to start now. Every time you met his gaze, you felt your entire relationship flash through your mind. And how could you lie to the guy who supported you though your hardest? Who made you who you are today? You sighed and slumped back on the couch, unable to maintain your facade anymore.

“Oh baby… come here.” Said Jungkook as he opened his arms, letting you fall into them as the sobs wracked your body.

“I just… I… you deserve better Kook , someone famous and pretty. I’m just not good enough for you.” You whispered into his chest, embarrassed with your confession.

Jungkook immediately started shaking his head no, his heart breaking at the words coming out of your mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he took a deep breath to stop himself from getting emotional as he talked to you.

“Y/N, why do you even think this? I - ”… Jungkook felt himself at a loss for words.

His eyes drifted to your phone open with twitter next to you as he felt his eyes flare with anger. He had always told you to stay away from social media sites so you had expected him to berate you for your actions, but Jungkook couldn’t possibly be mad at you given your current state. Instead, he simply moved the phone away from your reach and turned it off, as if that could provide any additional comfort for you. He then touched your shoulders and gestured for you to face him, gently tilting up your head to look him in the eye.

“Look baby, you’re perfect to me - you make me a better person and you make me the happiest person on Earth. I don’t care what any tweet or news article says, I love you and you’re the one for me.”

“But Jungkook - “

“No, no but’s. I love you, that’s it. I will yell that to the whole world, even post it every day if that will make you feel better.”

You felt like crying even harder now, not at your own insecurities anymore, but instead at how sweet Jungkook was. On any other night you would’ve been able to wipe your tears away yourself, but today, just this once, you wanted to be comforted by your boyfriend. You let your body fall against him, taking refuge in his warm embrace.

“I think I know exactly what you need, baby..”

Instantly, Jungkook went to work, tracking down a speaker in your apartment and pushing some of your lighter furniture out of the way. Before you could even ask what Jungkook was doing, he pressed play on his phone and the familiar tone of GOT7’s Just Right filled the room. At the same time, he assumed the beginning position of the choreography, ready to tackle all 7 members’ parts at once.

“Baby, you are, just… just right”

It was honestly so impressive that Jungkook knew all the lyrics and the choreography to the song (you can only imagine that he learned it from his bestie Yugyeom), and the way that he sang so sincerely to you couldn’t help but bring a smile to your face.

Mirror, mirror please tell her

Scale, please tell her too

That she doesn’t need to change anything

That she’s pretty and perfect just as she is right now

He made sure to serenade you, dancing around your kitchen and picking the flowers (and some chopsticks accidentally) to hand to you as a sweet gift. Slowly, you felt the tightness in your chest fade away as Jungkook continued his performance, and the tears that were once covering your face were now replaced by a big smile.

Everything about you is just right

So relax, stop worrying

You can believe what I’m saying 100%

So you can erase all of your worries 100%

As the song came to a close, you cheered for your boyfriend as he took a dramatic bow. It really felt like the air felt lighter in your apartment, the storm cloud previously lingering over your mood suddenly washed away.

Jungkook plopped down next to you on the couch, pulling you closer into his hold and resting his chin on your shoulder. He instinctively reached out to twirl your hair between his fingers.

“So… how do you feel now?”

You had to give Jungkook a smile for that. Wiping away the last of your tears and trying to sniffle away the last of the snot in your nose, you leaned further into him, eliciting a forehead kiss from your man.

“Much, much better now Kook, thank you.”

You don’t know how long you both stayed thee like that, but you wish that you cold just feeze that moment and stay in it forever. Jungkook’s voice was the last thing you heard before you went to sleep...

“I wish that you could see what I see, babygirl. The way your presence lights up a room, the way you look so beautiful even when you just wake up in the morning, the way you make my heart stop whenever you smile. You’re so perfect, Y/N, and I’m going to try my best to show you that… because you, my love, are just right”.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this please let me know - Emily♡

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years ago

Note

Omg I have an angsty request that I’m sure is going to rip my heart out and light it on fire. It’s a super long and specific request so sorry if I get carried away:

Okay so reader had an unspoken thing in the glade with Gally but then he “died” so over the course of the events of scorch trials she got closer with newt and they start their own unspoken thing. But then in the death cure, newt (realizing he has the flare) starts encouraging her to reconcile with gally because he knows that he’s gonna die and gally will take care of her? But she’s confused on who she loves but kinda clings to what she has with newt because he needs her. And she’s just heart b r o k e n over newt dying but gally helps put her pieces back together in the safe haven and eventually they have their fluffy first time together?

Thanks!

*Fanfare* *Triumphant Music* I finally finished this one! Sorry it took a while, I really wanted this to be perfect. But I think I'm quite happy with how this one turned out! I hope you like it too, sweet Anon. Btw, I know you wanted smut, but I just didn't think it would fit with this one. Sorry, maybe on the next one!

Over 5.2k words, so strap in for a long one y'all

Possible Trigger Warning: Self Harm

~~~~~~~~~~

During your time in the Glade, you were practically attached at the hip with Gally.

He was your best friend, your first go to whenever you had any issues, and you were the same to him.

After his supposed death, you felt a void in your soul. You took on a nihilistic attitude, nothing in life making sense anymore. You didn't care about what happened to you or around you, you wished you had died with Gally, the idea of it being welcomed with open arms.

The thought of dying brought no anxiety, no dread. Even the thought of dying painfully didn't scare you, you wanted it. Everyday you thought about that spear going through Gally's chest, wanting to feel what he must've felt. You wanted to feel the same pain and fear, you wanted to feel like you were dying too.

No rational side of you could explain why you felt this way. Perhaps, if you felt the same pain he felt, maybe it would give some sort of closure. Maybe it would make you feel like you were still close to him, even in death.

It wasn't too long before you decided to act on those feelings. You had been only a knife to your chest, right where your heart was, hyping yourself up to push the blade into your skin.

You didn't want to kill yourself, no. You wanted your death to be natural, not forced. You'd suffer your own existence until your time eventually came like it did for everyone else. But Newt didn't know this when he happened upon you that night, just a couple centimeters of a blade shredding its way into your skin.

Newt panicked, immediately stopping your from hurting yourself, his heart racing at the thought of being too late. But thankfully, he wasn't.

You tried to seem somewhat normal, but the laughter bubbling from your chest couldn't be withheld, making Newt fear that you had lost your mind. He wasn't too far off...

He knew how much Gally's death impacted you, he knew you were in pain every second of every day, but he never thought you'd go so far as hurting yourself. He just silently patched you up, fearing anything he would say from a good place would only upset you further.

Eventually, you explained why you had done what you did. It obviously didn't sit right with Newt. He wasn't particularly close with Gally back in the Glade, but he knew well enough that he wouldn't want you to be living with this mindset.

After a while in the Scorch, you stuck by Newt the most and you started to get better. You felt so empty after Gally's death, leaving a hole in your heart. Newt helped lead you out of that void, trying his best to fit that empty space. But you knew nobody could replace Gally, not even Newt. You knew that space could never be filled, but just seeing Newt try to be that person for you, it was too endearing not to pull at what heartstrings you had left.

Then the complications happened, so much time spent believing that Gally was dead came crashing down as he stood in front of you all, very much not dead.

You thought it had to be a dream, could he really be here?

It was strange. You thought you'd run to him, leap into his arms and kiss all over his face, but you didn't. You stood next to your friends awkwardly as he took off his gas mask. To think you'd be more outwardly happy that someone you cared about was still alive. But you couldn't help the guilt that you felt when Gally said that they left him to die. Sure, it might've not been specifically directed to you, but you felt the sharp sting of his words resonate through you. It almost felt like a strong invisible force hit your funny bone, the volt of uncomfortable aching pain spreading throughout your entire body and leaving you in a breathless agony.

For Gally, he was overjoyed to see you alive and well. He so badly wanted to go to you, feel you in his arms again. But he knew he couldn't, how could he after how he treated everyone back in the Glade?

He didn't remember a lot, but he knew he killed Chuck. The blurry memories of that day, he saw it every night in his dreams. He remembered the sound of the gunshot, the sudden pain in his chest and not being able to breathe. He saw Chuck laying beside him, his expressionless eyes trained on the ceiling, unmoving. His chest wasn't rising and falling like it should've been, blood seeping through his layers of clothing. The most purest soul Gally ever met was dead, and it was his fault.

Gally couldn't even bring himself to look in your direction, he was too disgusted with himself.

Thomas punching Gally wasn't a big shock, he knew he deserved it. But Newt quickly came to his rescue, stopping Thomas from acting out irrationally. But a part of Gally didn't want the Greenie to be stopped. Being punched wasn't something he enjoyed, but Gally would willingly endure whatever punishment that would be inflicted and he'd accept that he deserved it. But nothing he could do or say would bring Chuck back...

When Gally did finally force himself to look at you, he wish he hadn't. You looked indifferent, which never happened with you. He instantly thought that you hated him as much as Thomas did, but then again, he deserved it.

It was really tough for Gally to keep a conversation with everyone while he took them to see Lawrence, especially when he noticed how close you stuck by Newt. But, he supposed it was only natural to find another person to be close to when you've lost someone else, he still couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that bubbled up in his chest. He hated how good you and Newt looked together, you seemed...happy.

At the moment, you weren't even close to happy; you were confused, and angry.

It sounded terrible, but a part of you was angry that Gally was actually still alive. You had to go through the mourning process, and you hadn't even finished it and now all of a sudden, he was alive all this time. It put your emotions on haywire, the most you felt was confusion, and if someone would've told you what you were experiencing was some sort of a twisted dream, you would believe them. But your feet were too sore and sunburn too irritating for this all to be a dream.

You sensed Newt's eyes trained on you, you knew he was probably worried, but you couldn't decide what for. Was he worried that you'd go back to Gally? Was he worried you'd replace him now that he was still alive? Knowing Newt, he probably just wanted to talk to you, but even then, you would have no idea what to say. What do people feel or say in situations like this? You were certain not everyone has to go through the loss of a loved one just to find out that they weren't gone, right?

It was late, and you were exhausted, as was everyone else; but you stayed awake, attempting to sleep only causing you to toss and turn, and eventually giving up. But someone else was awake, you were shocked to see that it was Newt. "What're doing awake?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Could ask you the same thing." You replied, only getting a look from Newt in response. "Couldn't sleep." You sighed, caving in to his concerned expression.

"I know it's not my place," Newt started, wringing his hands together nervously, "but, you haven't said a word to Gally." You knew he was going to bring that up, you had that feeling as soon as he saw you were still awake. "I know it was a shock, to all of us. But I thought it'd effect you the most, to be quite honest. You two were pretty close..."

You shrugged weakly, shaking your head. "I don't know what to tell you. Was I supposed to react a certain way? Was I supposed to drop to my knees and burst into tears or something?"

Newt grimaced. "No...of course you're not supposed to act a certain way. It's just a bit strange to me that you haven't tried to speak to him at all."

"I don't even know what I'd say to him." You chuckled bitterly.

"I know you and Gally had something, something special. That sort of thing doesn't just go away. You were absolutely gutted after what happened, this is a chance to reconnect. You care about him, a lot."

"Hey, that doesn't change the way I feel about you. I care about you a lot too."

Newt smiled weakly. "I know, but I really think you should go and talk to him."

You could tell he was being sincere, but you couldn't understand why. You two had grown close over the past several months, so why would he want you to reconnect with someone you used to be even closer with? You weren't really given the time to think over it more before Newt was quickly encouraging you to speak with Gally, telling you where his room was, somehow knowing this conversation would happen and finding out beforehand.

Just a few moments later, you found yourself outside of Gally's door, fist extended out to hover over the worn wood, but you couldn't bring yourself to knock. Thinking back to how hard you tried to avoid Gally when he came back, what if he thought you hated him? What if he didn't want to talk to you?

But before you could chicken out, you forced yourself to knock on Gally's door without thinking, soon hearing the thud of footsteps nearing. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open, anxiety gripping your mind so intensely that it almost triggered your fight or flight response. But Gally's almost hopeful and shocked expression when he saw you waiting relaxed you a little bit. "...hi." Gally voiced, the nervous and confused tone to his voice not going unnoticed by you.

"Hi." You replied, your voice probably just as shaky and nervous as his.

"Uh, come in." He said quickly, moving out of the doorframe, his hands slightly shaking when he motioned you to enter his room.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, so fast and hard that you were worried Gally would be able to hear it. Your hands were shaking, as well as your legs as you walked into his room, it was a miracle you didn't collapse right then and there. You tried not to jump as you heard the click of his door closing, you tried to take deep calming breaths before Gally turned to face you, the two of you almost on complete opposite sides of the room just standing awkwardly.

You stared at Gally, your gaze running up and down his body but ultimately stopping to stare at his chest. Tears quickly came to your eyes as you saw how healthy he looked, like a spear wasn't embedded in his chest months ago. You couldn't stop the flow of whimpers that came from your throat, putting your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment. You felt your face start to burn as you felt Gally's arms wrap around you as soon as you started to cry, but his warmth comforting you only caused you to let out more tears.

You never thought you'd be in his arms again.

Gally stood there silently, holding you and just trying to soothe you as best he could. In the back of his mind, he was astonished that you even let him come near you, you had avoided him altogether up until this moment. But the whimpers he heard coming from you, seeing the tears spilling from your eyes, he instinctively went to hug you. He also couldn't ignore the guilt he felt, thinking that you were crying because of him. He hated it. But you hugged him back tightly, burying your face in his chest and trying to stifle your sobs.

"You're here..." You cried softly, "you're really here..."

Gally's lip trembled, tears of his own brimming his eyes at how much pain you must've been in thinking he was dead all this time, your voice giving away your feelings. He exhaled shakily, "I am here." He placed a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm here."

For a few minutes, you and Gally just held each other silently. You both needed this, understanding how badly you missed one another. Soon, you were able to calm yourself, but you still didn't pull away. Gally only pulled away slightly so he could see your face, frowning when he saw your eyes were puffy and tearstained. "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. "What happened wasn't your fault, Gally." You said genuinely. No matter how much pain and anger you felt about what happened to Chuck, you never once blamed him. You knew W.C.K.D. killed him, and every other Glader who died. But Gally's frown told you everything you needed to know; he still blamed himself.

"I should've gone with you." He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "How can you even stand the sight of me?"

"Because I know you never would've killed anyone if you weren't stung, especially Chuck."

Hearing Chuck's name out loud made tears brim Gally's eyes once more, tightening his fists in anger at himself. "Chuck deserved so much better...he wasn't supposed to die..." He cried, causing you to pull him back into your embrace, rubbing his back while trying to not to cry again.

"None of us deserved to get experimented on."

Eventually, you lead Gally to sit next to you on his bed, holding his hand. It felt so right to be sitting there with Gally, you missed him so much that you despised ever feeling even the slightest bit of anger when you first saw that Gally was alive. But one emotion did not go away, you still felt confused.

While sitting there with Gally, you couldn't help but think about Newt. He was so adamant about you reconciling with Gally, was he hoping that something would happen between you two? You truly cared a lot about Newt, and you knew he felt the same way, so you couldn't understand why he was acting this way.

You sighed softly when you started to feel sleepy, standing up slowly. "I should probably head back."

Gally quickly stood up with you. "Uh, you could stay here if you want?" He stammered, causing you to smile a little.

"That's okay. I already had a sleeping bag set up for me downstairs, so..."

Gally tried to hide his disappointed frown, choosing to walk up to you until you two were face to face. Maybe it was too soon, but ever since he saw you, Gally had the strongest urge to place his lips on yours. He missed your soft lips that he only had the privilege of feeling a few times back in the Glade before everything happened. He gently grabbed hold of your jaw, tilting your face up and leaning forward slowly.

You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. But before his lips could connect, Newt's face popped up in your mind and you couldn't, you forced yourself to turn away.

You tried not to look at Gally's face, knowing that he'd probably look like a kicked puppy. You couldn't, it would be too painful. "It's Newt." Gally frowned, taking a step back.

Your eyes widened, finally taking a glance over to him to indeed see that his expression was one of disappointment and sadness. "I never said-"

"You didn't have to." Gally interrupted. "I see the way you look at him...it's how you used to look at me." You stayed silent, a feeling of guilt washing over you. "I don't blame you, Y/n, for finding someone else. I'd never expect you to grieve over me forever, that's too selfish."

Hearing this, you had a terrifying thought that you needed to voice out loud. "Did you ever find someone else?" You asked nervously, afraid of his answer.

"No..." He smiled weakly, "No one that could ever compare to you."

You hated that you felt relieved, you were the one who seemed to be selfish. But, you couldn't just drop what you had with Newt now that Gally's still alive. You couldn't say anything else, what could you say to that?

"You should get some sleep." Gally said, opening his door and motioning you to get out.

"Gally..." You whispered.

"Please. Just...we have a busy day tomorrow."

You sighed. You couldn't argue with him.

Newt watched you walk back downstairs, getting into your sleeping bag with a very prominent frown. Doesn't seem like it went well, he thought. He felt relieved and frustrated at the same time. Newt really cared for you, he could even go as far as saying he loved you, but he needed you and Gally to get back together, or become friends again at least.

It wasn't too long ago that Newt found out he had the Flare. He saw the black and purple veins slowly travelling up his arm, and the pain, the pain was the worst part. You had already gotten close to him, so he was heartbroken to know that you'd just lose another person you cared for. After Gally, he knew you wouldn't be able to handle another loss. So when Gally showed up out of the blue, it was like a miracle, Newt's prayers had been answered.

Newt felt jealousy, of course, he wanted to stay with you. He didn't want Gally to take you from him, but what use would he be when he was dead or a Crank? He tried not to be angry with you, it wasn't your fault how you were feeling, but he needed to know you'd be okay when he was gone.

Newt did try talking to you about it, but you always changed the subject or simply didn't answer him. Before you all knew it, it was time to start planning Minho's rescue mission. Thomas didn't want to use Teresa, and hearing that only made Newt's anger bubble to the surface.

It wasn't like Newt to lash out like that, he was always so calm and relaxed. Maybe the stress finally got to him, maybe it was something else...

You immediately followed after Newt when he stormed out after yelling at Thomas, not knowing that Gally's sad eyes were following you. You couldn't think of anything else, you just had to know that Newt was okay.

You found Newt on the roof, sitting on the ledge. "Newt?" You asked, concerned. "Are you okay...?" You stepped closer captiously, finally taking a seat next to him.

Newt only smiled bitterly. "No...no, not really."

You sighed, looking out to the horizon, trying to find the right words to say. "We all thought Teresa was our friend...it's okay to be angry."

Newt shook his head. "It's not that."

You furrowed your brows. "Then, why did you lash out at Thomas?"

Newt bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He never wanted you to find out this way. He didn't even want you to know. But after that scene he made, he knew there was no point in hiding it anymore.

Tears came to your eyes as Newt lifted up his jacket sleeve, revealing his discolored arm. You knew what it was immediately, seeing it on every Crank you came across. "No..." You whispered. "No."

"I know I probably shouldn't have kept it from you, but I was scared. I still am."

"We'll fix it!" You quickly said, it sounding more like a plead. "We'll find another cure!"

Newt only gave you a weak smile. "I don't think that's a possibility right now, love. Besides, Minho needs us."

"No, you're not allowed to give up like that, Newt. We'll find something to help you. If Brenda was cured, so can you. Teresa might-"

"Please, Y/n." Newt voiced sharply. "Please...just stop. I don't need false hope."

Before you could say anything else, you heard the roof access door open, Thomas walking up to the two of you. "Y/n, can I, uh, talk to Newt? Alone?"

You looked to Newt, who nodded, signaling for you to leave. You stood up, speed walking inside and down the stairs. The tears kept falling, blurring your vision, and you had no idea what to do. Newt was dying, and there was nothing that you could do about it, and it didn't seem like he was too eager to try and find a cure. You hoped Thomas could talk some sense into him. But in that moment, your feet subconsciously took you to Gally's little apartment. You stood in front of the door in tears, wishing that you didn't feel the urge to find comfort in him when Newt was sick. But, you knocked on the door, quickly placing yourself in Gally's arms as soon as he was in front of you.

Gally didn't know what was wrong, he barely got a good look at your face before you threw yourself at him. But the way you were shaking and whimpering, he knew you were crying, and he didn't have the heart to pull away from you. He walked backwards and shut his door, leading you to sit down on his bed with him. He just held you as you cried, leaning his head down on top of yours until you calmed down. He finally spoke when your cries were just quiet sniffles. "What happened?"

You exhaled a shaky breath, lifting your head to look at Gally. "Newt has the Flare..."

"W-What...?" Had Gally heard that right? Could his mind be playing tricks on him? He just assumed everyone that was in the Glade was immune, that's why they were there, right? But you repeated what you had said, confirming what Gally thought he heard. "I...I'm so sorry..." That's all Gally could say. He wasn't very well spoken in these types of situations, all he could do was bring you back into another hug.

You finally understood why Newt was pushing you to get close to Gally again; he wanted you to be close to someone when he died.

Yet another situation that had you confused. You knew you loved Gally, you always had, he was your best friend. But now you had Newt, he helped you through everything while in the Scorch, helped you try to overcome your grieve and probably saved your life multiple times. How could you possibly make a decision like this?

You and Gally never put a label on what you had in the Glade, and nobody asked either, not even Alby. You both just knew that you cared for one another, that you'd do anything for the other. But as time went on, you felt guilty knowing what you'd ultimately choose. It was always going to be a lose lose for you.

Newt needed you, and you couldn't leave him when he needed you the most.

Gally, deep down, knew what your decision was going to be. You had a big heart. You never would leave anyone behind, even if they were infected. Back in the Glade, Gally wouldn't have hesitated in sacrificing the few to save the many, but you were never like that. You cared about everyone, especially the people who were closest to you. You never were going to give up on Newt, you couldn't now. You would spend as much time with him as possible, what little time he might've had left. And you did, until he took his final breath.

You felt like you were a glass vase that had been shattered, and every time you tried to pick up the pieces, the glass would just cut deeper and deeper into your skin. It felt like life didn't want you to be put back together. Nothing felt real. Everything that happened in the Last City felt like a fever dream. You hoped that one day you'd wake up and you'd be back in the Glade, everyone was still alive. Maybe if you could go back in time, maybe you could save everyone, maybe you could've convinced Gally to listen to Thomas, maybe you could've held off Newt a bit longer in time for Brenda to give him the cure.

A lot of maybe's, a lot of hopes and prayers, never answered.

Now in the Safe Haven, you felt anything but safe.

You didn't talk to anyone for awhile, not even Gally. You had nothing to say, and you were afraid of breaking down in front of everyone. So, you isolated yourself. And then a couple weeks later, you finally felt everything bubble to the surface.

Sitting down somewhere along the coastline, not too close to the water, but close enough that you could feel the salty breeze of the waves hit you gently as the evening cooled when the sun started to go set.

You tucked yourself up into a ball, your knees as close as you could get them to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. And, you cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. The ugly kind of crying. Your tears weren't coming out one eye at a time in a perfectly straight line down your face like in the movies, you weren't making quiet sniffles or whimpers, you were full on sobbing. Tears came out of your eyes so fast that you could barely make out the sun on the horizon, your shirt sleeves were most definitely covered in snot and whatever salty tears it had the chance to catch. Your throat felt like it was being torn apart by how intense your sobs were. The sobs sounded more like you were having a coughing fit, one of those phlegmy hacking coughs that made you feel like you were going to vomit.

You knew you most likely weren't far enough away from the camp to quiet your weeping, and you knew you were just embarrassing yourself, arranging for yourself to be completely humiliated the next morning when you had to face everybody. But in the moment, you couldn't care less. You loss someone so important to you, it felt like losing Gally all over again. But you knew this time, it was final. No surprise resurrections this time. You felt completely, and utterly, alone.

But you never were.

You felt so dissociated and detached from yourself, the wails of grief too much for your body to handle. You couldn't feel anything around you, not the warmth of the sand, not the slight chill breeze, not even Gally's arms wrapped around you tightly. You didn't realize until you passed out from exhaustion, waking up the next morning in a bed that wasn't yours, and a hut that wasn't yours.

Your vision was still a little bit blurry, all the tears from the night previous crusting to the creases around your eyes, making it a bit of a challenge opening them all the way. But, your other sense were intact enough to tell you that bacon and eggs were next to you on a bedside table. You hadn't eaten the day before, so it was mostly a primal reaction to quickly take the plate and gobble up the food.

You still had to rely on context clues to figure out where you were in the camp. As much as your eyes irritated you, they could now finally work once you were wide awake. You probably should've known immediately who's hut it was, but seeing that familiar grey knitted hoodie settled ungracefully over the backrest of a chair, you knew it was Gally's.

You blushed quickly after that realization. How did he know where you were, and how much did he see? The thought of him seeing you in such a state made you cringe. But what was more horrifying was that Gally was right outside the room, waiting for you to wake up. "Hey..." He voiced, his eyebrows knitted in concern, eyes full of sadness.

You had to look away, the heat rushing to your face making you feel like you were going to pass out again. "Hi." You croaked, your vocal cords still sore and raw.

Gally shifted his weight nervously, taking a step closer to you. "I'm sorry, for bringing you here...I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself." You snapped you gaze back to him in confusion, him quickly blushing, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, Newt told me about what you did to yourself after...after the Maze."

You self-consciously rubbed the spot on your chest where a big scar still remained. "I wasn't trying to...you know, kill myself or anything."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." He said softly, taking a seat on the bed next to you.

You sighed, crossing your arms. "I just...I didn't know what I was thinking."

Gally gently grabbed ahold of your hand, making you uncross your arms, letting his warm hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. Newt should be here with the rest of us. He was a good person."

You nodded as tears came to your eyes again, burning enough to make you whimper, and you leaned your head against Gally's shoulder. "I miss him so much." You cried.

Eventually, you and Gally became close again. He was always there for you. Whenever you had nightmares, whenever you were lonely, whenever you needed anything, Gally would always be there. You started to feel your relationship had almost gotten back to the point where it was in the Glade, it had been almost a year, but you still felt it was too early to be moving on. A part of you didn't want to move on, but you knew that's not what Newt wanted either.

You didn't read the note Newt wrote to you when Thomas first gave it to you. The grief was still too near, and you didn't know if you could handle it. But a couple months after your breakdown, you finally read it. Newt loved you, he had always loved you. And he wanted you to be happy, he didn't want you to be sad that he was gone, even though he knew it would be impossible. But he knew you would be okay, he knew Gally would protect you no matter what. Reading his note was part of the reason you knew it would be okay to be with Gally, it just took you some time.

One day, you and Gally were taking a break from working, just sitting near the forest tree line, and you did it; you kissed him, and you couldn't stop, you didn't want to stop. And you didn't, and neither did Gally.

After that, it was almost impossible to spend any time away from each other.

You never thought you'd smile again, but Gally always found a way. He made you so happy, and it made you cry one night when you finally realized that you were happy, and you knew somewhere out there, it made Newt happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cries in Español

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #newt x reader #newt imagine #tmr newt #tmr gally #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally

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tricksters-captain · 4 years ago

Text

Bucky Barnes imagines - Don’t Flatter Yourself, Doll

AN: I hope you enjoy something a little different

Summary: You and Bucky have always clashed. After a mission goes wrong things get heated between you two.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam xPlatonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,787

Warnings: ANGST, strong language, some violence, Smut, hate sex, unprotected sex, no foreplay, choking

“You’re really gonna storm off like that and say it’s my fault!?” Bucky scoffed at you as he tried to catch up to you.

“It was completely your fault! If you hadn't gotten in my way then––”

“––If I hadn’t gotten in your way?!” Bucky threw his leather jacket down on his seat as you separated in the aircraft. “If you had stuck to the plan and did what you were supposed to do we wouldn’t be leaving empty handed.”

“If I had stuck to the plan you would be roadkill right now.” You snapped back at him as you unarmed yourself. “Perhaps that would’ve been better because at least then I wouldn’t have to deal with your miserable ass and constant staring!”

“Oh please!” Bucky huffed. “If I wasn’t around to constantly save you from one bad guy or another you'd be dead right now.”

“Save me?!” The words made your head spin round to glare at Bucky. “That’s rich, Buck. If I recall you’re the one who always needs saving whether it was Steve or now Sam!”

“Sam doesn’t save me!” Bucky’s nostrils flared as he strode towards you. You stood your ground, folding your arms across your chest as you stared up at the man.

“Oh yeah? Just last week Sam had to tackle you from a speeding truck because a little girl beat you down.” You reminded him of the incident with the flagsmashers.

“They were super soldiers!” Bucky argued, “And if I remember correctly you were thrown from the same truck.”

“Will you two quit it?!” Sam entered the aircraft finally, folding in his wings as he glowered at the both of you. “It’s both your faults we are in this mess.”

“But he––!”

“––Shut it, (Y/n)! You know I normally agree with you rather than white panther over there–”

“–White Wolf–”

“–But you messed up. We were this close to finally getting somewhere and you both let it slip away.” Sam didn’t want to hear another argument from either of you so climbed up to the cockpit of the aircraft to get away from you both.

“See, even your best bud said you were the one who ruined this for us.” Bucky threw his hand up in the direction of the ladder.

“Shut the hell up, Bucky!” You dropped your arms as your anger jumped out.

“Not so tough now you haven’t got Sam on your side.” Bucky didn’t stop.

“I don’t need anyone on my side. He said that you fucked it up too. This just proves that if you weren’t here, the mission would’ve worked out the way it was supposed to.” You growled as you turned away from the man.

“God you’re so infuriating!” Bucky gripped hold of your upper arm and tugged you around so you would face him.

“Take your hand off me.” You said in a low voice, warning him.

“Or what?” Bucky only tightened his grip.

You shrugged before sending your fist into the man’s jaw.

Bucky stumbled back, chuckling harshly before he finally snapped.

He surged forward, taking hold of both your arms and slamming you against the wall behind you.

You stared straight into his eyes. Your chest heaving up and down as you tried to stay calm under his grip.

“You really think fighting me is going to make this better?” Bucky asked through gritted teeth.

“No but it’ll sure as hell make me feel better.” You retorted.

Bucky smirked, sticking his tongue out of his lips as he looked away from you for a moment.

“I should’ve just left you in the water.” Bucky’s words cut you deeper when you realised what he meant.

Bucky had pulled both you and Steve from the water that day years ago when the Helicarriers crashed.

“Well, the only reason I didn’t kill you when I had the chance was because of Steve.” You spat back. “But he isn't here anymore.”

“Like you’d ever have a chance––”Bucky looked back in your eyes and you took that moment to lift your feet and send them into the man’s stomach, pushing him off you.

Bucky stumbled back, groaning at the impact of the kick in his stomach.

You went past him, heading towards the ladder when Bucky grabbed your shoulder to keep you there. You staggered backwards at the strength of the pull but knelt down swiftly to swipe your legs under Bucky, sending him to the floor.

Before you could even lift your foot to continue walking, Bucky’s hand snatched your ankle and brought you down with him.

His remaining hand grabbed your other foot and pulled you down towards him. He scrambled on top of you but you used the opportunity to roll you both over, linking your legs with his arms to flip you.

You sat with your thighs either side Bucky’s neck as you sat on his chest.

Bucky used his enhanced strength to grip hold of your thighs with his arms before flipping you over onto the ground.

The impact of your back hitting the hard metal floor made you lose your breath for a second but it was enough time for Bucky to secure his place on top of you.

His legs weighed down your own, his large hands pinned down your wrists above your head and his dog tags were hitting your neck as he glared down at you.

The air was thick from the both of your panting hot air.

You watched Bucky’s eyes flicker down to your lips and before you realised what was happening, his lips were on your own.

Your small gasp of surprised allowed Bucky’s tongue to surpass your lips. The taste of him sent an electricity through your entire body and you kissed him back.

“I heard a bang, You guy’s haven’t killed each other down there, have you?” Sam opened the hatch and called down to you both.

Bucky stopped kissing you and you both jumped apart, rushing to your feet.

“Not that I’d mind at this point because frankly you’re both a pain in my ass but...” Sam continued as he hadn't heard a response.

“No, we’re fine.” You were the one to speak up as you tried to steady your breath.

Both you and Bucky had stood apart but you had your eyes locked on each other.

You felt something stirring inside you at Bucky’s dark gaze.

“Look you guys can hash it out for all I care just don’t hurt each other we still have stuff to do.” Sam said before you heard the hatch close again.

There was a moment of just silence. A moment that felt like eternity before Bucky rushed towards you once again.

His lips found yours, you wrapped your hands round the back of his neck as he picked you up and pressed you against the curved steel wall.

His cold metal hand slid down your side and then pulled your t-shirt up to allow access to your skin. The coolness of the Vibranium sent goosebumps over your skin as he took hold of your breast.

You bit down on Bucky’s lip, scraping your teeth against the soft flesh as you tugged lightly. Bucky growled, his hand finding your neck to keep you pinned against the wall.

There was a devilish glint in your eyes that made Bucky insatiable.

He kissed you once again, his hands tearing your t-shirt over your head, his mouth then moving to the exposed flesh of your neck and collarbone.

Your own hands darted to the bottom of Bucky’s shirt and soon it was removed, revealing Bucky’s chiselled torso that you had seen before but never this close.

Bucky bit down on your shoulder as he tried to undo your pants. He pulled away a moment, setting you back on your feet to help remove the garment.

You kicked them off, instantly dropping to your knees to help Bucky with his own.

You unbuttoned his jeans and went to drag them down when Bucky yanked you back to up his face. He kissed you as he removed his own pants, pulling his length free from his boxer briefs.

As Bucky’s teeth grazed your jaw, you looked down to see how large his member was and you felt your core ache with need.

“Fuck me already.” You hissed as you pulled the man’s head back by his hair. Bucky groaned at at the sudden pain but then darkly laughed.

“You didn’t say please.” Bucky smirked as he lifted your leg up in a swift motion. Pushing your panties to the side, his member was pressing against your wet sex, he was teasing you.

“Bite me.” You snarled back at him and with that he thrust his whole length inside of you.

You winced and whined out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. You threw your head back, letting your eyes roll back with it and Bucky soaked in every second of your reaction.

He only waited a second for you to adjust before he started thrusting inside of you. You gripped onto his shoulders, the cold metal of his left arm seemed to burn against your hot skin as he held onto you and the wall.

“God...” Bucky moaned as you moved your hips with his.

You let go of Bucky and found his right hand with your own. Bucky furrowed his brow in confusion as you moved it but didn’t stop pumping in and out of you.

You placed his hand against your neck and Bucky soon realised what you wanted.

He squeezed lightly as he fucked you hard.

He couldn’t stop himself from watching your face twist in pleasure as he roughly thrusted against you. Your nails dug deep into his skin as you felt your stomach begin to tense.

Bucky’s hips were becoming sloppy as sweat beaded on his forehead. You were both so close.

His deep thrusts allowed his member to hit that sweet spot inside of you and you cried out as he did. You felt yourself curl around him and you squeezed your eyes shut as your climax rolled over you. Your walls pulsed around Bucky which only encouraged Bucky’s own finish.

Bucky came inside of you, filling you with his hot speed as he let is forehead drop to your shoulder.

Bucky let himself catch his breath against before he pulled out of you. He tugged up his pants, moving away from you and tossed you over your t-shirt from the floor.

“This doesn't mean I like you.” You said through your heavy breaths as you redressed yourself.

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll.” Bucky retorted as he too put on his t-shirt.

Bucky Barnes Tag List

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16 @shannon-posts @darkbluenovember

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier #marvel #imagines #Sam Wilson #Steve Rogers #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan x reader #Sebastian Stan imagines

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mmvalentine · 3 years ago

Note

Heyy i reallyy love your writing. Could u please do an alternative inn scene (from acomaf) where rhysand asks feyre what she wants and feyre replies with 'you' instead of 'i want a distraction'?? I would very much love thatt! And also insert whatever u know u write best😉😏

OH INTERESTING okay, yeah I'll bite! Gonna just start by copy pasting a whole chunk because I quite liked the lead up but yeah let's get real divergent.

You

I murmured, "We should go to sleep."

The patter of the rain was the only sound for long moment before he said, "All right."

I crawled over the bed to the side tucked almost against the slanted ceiling and shimmied beneath the quilt. Cool, crisp sheets wrapped around me like an icy hand. But my shiver was from something else entirely as the mattress shifted, the blanket moved, and then the two candles beside the bed went out.

Darkness hit me at the same moment the warmth from his body did. It was an effort not to nudge toward it. Neither one of us moved, though.

I stared into the dark, listening to that icy rain, trying to steal the warmth from him.

"You're shivering so hard the bed is shaking," he said.

"My hair is wet," I said. It wasn't a lie.

Rhys was silent, then the mattress groaned, sinking directly behind me as his warmth poured over me. "No expectations," he said. "Just body heat." I scowled at the laughter in his voice.

But his broad hands slid under and over me: one flattening against my stomach and tugging me against the hard warmth of him, the other sliding under my ribs and arms to band around my chest, pressing his front into me. He tangled his legs with mine, and then a heavier, warmer darkness settled over us, smelling of citrus and the sea.

I lifted a hand toward that darkness, and met with a soft, silky material- his wing, cocooning and warming me. I traced my finger along it, and he shuddered, his arms tightening around me.

"Your finger... is very cold," he gritted out, the words hot on my neck.

I tried not to smile, even as I tilted my neck a bit more, hoping the heat of his breath might caress it again. I dragged my finger along his wing, the nail scraping gently against the smooth surface. Rhys tensed, his hand splaying across my stomach.

"You cruel, wicked thing," he purred, his nose grazing the exposed bit of my neck I'd arched beneath him. "Didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"

"I never knew Illyrians were such sensitive babies," I said, sliding another finger down the inside of his wing.

Something hard pushed against my behind. Heat flooded me, and I went taut and loose all at once. I stroked his wing again, two fingers now, and he twitched against my backside in time with the caress.

The fingers he'd spread over my stomach began to make lazy, idle strokes. He swirled one around my navel, and I inched imperceptibly closer, grinding up against him, arching a bit more to give that other hand access to my breasts.

"Greedy," he murmured, his lips hovering over my neck. "First you terrorize me with your cold hands, now you want... want is it you want, Feyre?"

More, more, more, I almost begged him as his fingers traveled down the slope of my breasts, while his other hand continued its idle stroking along my stomach, my abdomen, slowly- so slowly- heading toward the low band of my pants and the building ache beneath it.

Rhysand's teeth scraped against my neck in a lazy caress. "What is it you want, Feyre?" He nipped at my earlobe.

What did I want?

I wanted his hands lower, and all over me. I wanted to not feel guilty anymore for Tamlin. I wanted us all to be okay and to not have to worry about a war coming our way.

"What do you want?" Rhys's words rumbled against my skin and his nails scratched lightly back and forth above my waistband.

And Cauldron damn it, at the end of the day what I really wanted was to just fuck all of it off and to just be with Rhys.

I had no idea how to say that though, without it all sounding so... trite. So human. And there was Rhys, waiting with his nose under my ear and the unliftable weight of his court on his shoulders.

What did I want?

In the end, all I could say was, "you." And it was as much a relief to admit that to myself as it was admitting it to him.

Rhys's hands stopped moving and for a second, I thought I'd said the wrong thing. He went so still- then I remembered his words.

I can't breathe when I look at you.

Let me touch you.

Because I was jealous, and pissed off...

She's mine.

And I knew better.

"You want me?" Rhys echoed, low and dangerous in the curve of my ear. He started moving again, coming up and over my body like another heavy layer of darkness.

"Yes," I whispered, and he nudged my knees apart so that he could settle between my legs.

"Is that so?" Rhys leaned his forearms either side of my face, and rolled his hips against mine so that the heavy length of him ground into me just where that ache needed the friction. I bit my lip against the things that did to me, and struggled to control my breath.

Not to be out done, I reached up and smoothed my hands across his back and up the arches of his wings. The shudder this produced had him rocking into me again, and now both of us were breathing a little hard.

"You'll be the death of me, Feyre darling," Rhys said, and then he kissed me and everything went more thoroughly dark than I had ever experienced in my life.

At the time I honestly could not have said whether this was Rhys's power flaring, or whether my mind just blanked out hard as soon as he kissed me. But what I knew is that I couldn't see anything and that just left me to feel everything a hundred times over.

The weight of his body pinning me down on the mattress.

The pull of his fingers tangling into mine just above my head.

The almost bruising pressure between my legs.

And the sure but honey-slow movement of his lips against mine, one lush press sliding into another.

Rhys groaned softly against my mouth, and I felt the sound all the way down my spine. The first touch of his tongue had me leaning up off the pillow, unable to reach for him because his hands still held mine against the bed. Rhys let go of one hand to smooth down the side of my thigh, sliding under my calf to hitch it to his hip. I threaded my freed hand through his hair, but Rhys chuckled and gently pinned it down again.

"Feyre," he purred. "Feyre, Feyre you have to tell me. What do you want?" His lips moved down the column of my throat and I struggled to answer him.

"I told you," I gasped. "I want you."

"You're going to have to be more specific," Rhys murmured against my collar bone.

"I want... everything." I lifted my hips for emphasis, and loved how his flexed in response. Rhys's mouth came down on mine again, this time hungrier and less gentle. He ground his erection into me and I moved back against him eagerly. He finally let my hands go and I twisted them around his neck, pulling him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, all sea spray and cointreau. One of Rhys's hands slid behind my head and into my hair, and the other snaked down between us and slipped between my legs.

My moan broke the kiss, and I could hear the grin in Rhysand's voice. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked me. He moved his fingers slowly, rubbing against my clit through my pants.

"More," I groaned, and with a flicker of magic my clothes vanished and his fingers were still against my bare pussy. My nails dug into his shoulders and I couldn't care enough to be embarrassed about how loud the next moan was.

"Mmm Feyre you're so wet for me," Rhys muttered. His fingers started moving again, at first just going back and forth over my clit but I moved my hips up to him.

"More," I ground out again, tilting so that his fingers were reaching further down. Rhys took the hint and pushed inside of me, swearing softly as I started to fuck myself on his hand. Rhys's other hand came up to squeeze my breast, his thumb stroking over my peaked nipple.

"Just like that?" he asked me.

"Gods yes," I struggled out.

"Still want more?" he said. I couldn't quite formulate a response because he had just added another finger. Rhys didn't wait. He ducked his head down, and while his fingers were still pumping inside me, he sucked my clit into his mouth.

"Fuck, Rhys!"

Rhysand did not respond. Just kept flicking his tongue, while my fist tightened in his hair and my climax built behind my eyelids.

"Rhys, I'm... Ohgodsfuck," I mumbled incoherently, my brain not connecting with my tongue.

What was that darling? Rhys asked without lifting his lips. I moaned. The intimacy of him speaking right into my mind was almost unbearable right now, and in the moment I had completely forgotten we could communicate like that.

Rhys... I sent back, but even non-verbally that's all I could muster.

Are you going to come? he asked me. Are you going to come on my tongue like a good girl?

Black talons scraped down the shields of my mind and they may as well have scratched straight down my belly.

Do it, he said. Come for me.

And cauldron help me, I did. I came so hard the scream hurt my throat, and then before I could fully regain consciousness Rhys was rising back up toward me and kissing me with pussy wet lips so I could taste myself on his tongue.

"Mmmm, you," Rhys said between kisses, "are absolutely, fucking delicious." I kissed him back and tried to catch my breath, but now his cock was twitching against my over-sensitive clit and my head was empty.

"What do you think?" he asked me, grinding slow circles with his hips. "Had enough pleasure for one night? Should I let you get some sleep?"

"No, please," I whimpered. "Need you so badly." My hands clawed at his chest, tried to reach down between us to touch him.

"You know, I have had a very long time to think about how and where I want you," Rhys said. The darkness lifted a little, and I could now dimly see Rhysand's face above mine. He was so beautiful I wanted to cry. "And I never thought it'd be in a tiny room where I can't even fuck you against the wall." I shivered at the suggestion.

"I don't care where we are," I breathed. "Just want you." Rhys moved his tongue the hollow of my throat.

"Do you?" he asked softly.

"Of course. I want you, I want all of you, I want..."

Rhys cut me off by kissing me, and I had to remind myself to breathe in.

"But do you know what all is?" Rhys asked hoarsely. And then I looked into his eyes and realised that there was real fear there. That for all his swagger, the reason he kept asking was because he still wasn't sure what I wanted from him. I put my hands on his face.

"Rhysand," I said. "I want every single, beautiful, terrible, wicked, brutal, lovely part of you. Okay?"

"Okay," Rhys whispered. But he just started at me for a minute.

"Don't you want me, too?"

And that got him moving again.

"Do I want you?" Rhys slid his hands under my shoulder blades and skimmed his nose across my jaw. His fingers tightened beneath me as his teeth tugged my ear lobe and his lips began working once more. "Feyre, gods. You have no idea how much I..." He cut himself off and groaned as his erection pressed insistently against me. "Feyre."

I pushed at the waistband of his trousers and he let me, kissing my lips as he removed the rest of his clothes. And then he was completely naked above me, and his bare cock on my pussy was more teasing than I could take.

"Rhys, please," I whimpered, my fingers finally touching the length of him. A snarl rumbled out from Rhys's chest, and then he was pressing into me.

Just a little. Just the head of him. But my body caught fire, and then started to tremble as the pressure built. He was big enough that he had to wait for me to adjust, and yet the need for him pulsed through me like a madness and my nails dug into his arms so hard I might have cut him.

I breathed through my nose as Rhys pulled out and came back, pushing a little further in this time with a hiss through his teeth.

"Fuck," he whipped out, half way in with the third pass. His forehead dropped to mine and I took his bottom lip between my teeth as he finally sank all the way in, eyes snapping open as we hit the hilt.

For a second, we just stared at each other. His eyes were black, and raw, and bottomless. Then he started to move and my mind slid.

In and out, painfully slow, and as my body got used to the size of him suddenly he was perfect. Suddenly something snapped into place and being with Rhys was like breathing air. I moved with him as he picked up his pace, and with every stroke I was being filled with something better than oxygen until I was brimming with it.

But somehow the more complete I felt, it appeared the more Rhys was coming undone. He buried his face in my neck, and his movements became more frenzied, more desperate. He gathered up my legs like he just needed to be deeper and couldn't get enough, and the sounds he made were like a starving man.

And all of it felt so fucking good. I went liquid under his touch and let him devour me. Rhys drew back a little to look at me, and when he made eye contact I almost came again. My eyes rolled back, but Rhys tugged at my chin.

"Don't ask me if I want you," he said when my eyes were back on his. "I will always, always want you." Rhys gripped my hip tightly as he fucked me faster. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything." His other hand cradled the back of my skull. "I want you more than I want my next breath." And indeed his breathing was labouring now, and his movements jerked hard into me. "I want you to be mine. Mine. Mine." His hips punctuated his words, slamming into me harder and harder each time until I was out of my body and screaming and coming and trying to tell him that I already was his.

When Rhys came he shuddered and shook so hard I heard his teeth click, and maybe my shields had slipped but I swear I felt his climax rip straight through my body like it might tear me in half.

I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to.

Of course as we lay there in that tiny room, in the dark, I never wanted to move again. I wondered, and could not bring myself to ask, if it was always like this for Rhys, if this was just how good he was in bed in general, if I was just overwhelmed because I didn't have much experience with fae.

"No," Rhys said quietly. "It's never like that for me, either."

So my shields were down.

But I didn't care at all, not in this state, not when Rhys carefully pulled out and rolled me onto my side so he could pull me into his arms again, not when he cleaned us up with a breath of magic and then started stroking gently over my flank while consciousness slipped from me.

"You want me?" Rhys whispered into my hair. "You've got me, Feyre darling. You've always had me."

And that was the very last thing I heard before sleep found me.

*****

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #mine #smut

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itgirlification · 4 years ago

Text

supermodel (3) | jjk

when you asked jungkook to come over, you didn’t expect it to end this way.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, spitting, face slapping, spanking, etc.

now playing: stuck on you by giveon

part one part two

“I just didn't feel like you were ready for a relationship. You still aren’t.”, He said. “Not ‘cause you’re a bad girlfriend, it's because you’re so bad to yourself.”

After the party, you decided to message Jungkook and ask him to come over to talk things through, since there was too much between you unanswered. Now that’s exactly what you’d been doing for the past 15 minutes.

You admired his honesty even though it hurt you.

You were about to open your mouth, but Jungkook made a hand motion to let you know he wasn’t finished talking.

“Do you know how I felt when you always looked down on yourself, always picking fights because you’re too damn insecure to realize that I was only looking at you?”

You looked at him, wondering if he was expecting you to answer so you just shook your head no. You didn’t know how he felt.

Throughout the entire timeline of your relationship, he hadn’t even tried to tell you he was feeling like this once.

Jungkook sighed, clearly not trying to hurt you with what was going to come. “It just made you hard to love. I didn't feel fully loved in our relationship, because if you had so many issues loving yourself, how were you supposed to love me?”

Realizing you’ve never thought about it in that way, you made an astounding facial expression, before finally talking. “But we aren't the same, Jungkook. You’re so easy to love. But I’m not. I’m flawed and I don't think I deserve to have you in any way. Please don’t think I never loved you. It hurts me.”

He jabbed his cheek with his tongue and gazed at you in disbelief. “You missed my point. I’m telling you, you shouldn't be looking for a relationship if you can’t love yourself first.”

Now you were getting a little irritated at him. “Well, that’s easier said than done. You don’t understand what it feels like having people constantly body shame you and having a conventionally attractive partner and people telling you you’re too ugly for them, you don’t deserve them. You don’t get it, because you are the attractive one in the relationship.”

With his clenched jaw and the tightened expression on his face, you knew Jungkook wasn’t having it. “Oh, you know that’s a typical move for you, yn. You love victimizing yourself and being blind to your own faults, acting like everybody else around is doing everything wrong when you don’t even let them express their honest feelings to you. You’re unbearable to talk to, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. Because I’m confessing my fears and my vulnerability to you it’s hard talking to me, right? Like I didn’t spend a total of like what, a year? listening to your sob stories about your childhood trauma and your daddy issues and your drug problems and I didn’t even say a thing about it. I never complained.”, you hollered at him, unfortunately, your anger was getting the best of you.

You were aware of the fact that you shouldn’t have mentioned your ex-boyfriend’s childhood, let alone his unhealthy relationship with drugs. You knew it was his weak spot, but you did it out of anger, you couldn’t control it.

You remembered the first time Jungkook teared up in front of you while talking about how his father mistreated and abuse him and his mum and how he started abusing drugs at the age of 16.

“Jungkook..”, you moved closer to him after noticing his silence, trying to put a hand over his shoulder. He rejected you by shaking your hand off.

“Nah, don’t ‘Jungkook’ me, you know what you did, don’t try blaming it on the fact that you’re mad at me right now.”, He hissed with flaring nostrils. “That’s what you’ve been wanting to tell me ever since I opened up to you, don’t lie.”

You felt deeply ashamed of the fact that you were getting aroused at the side of this messed-up Jungkook who was standing right in front of you.

Despite your arousal, your ex-boyfriend’s statement had hurt your feelings. You didn't want him thinking that of you, you wanted him to know you supported him and wanted to be his shoulder to cry on. For him to know he could always call you.

“Jungkook, that's not true at all”, your voice softened and you sat yourself on one of his thick thighs, gently taking his face into your hands. “You know I love you and I’m just frustrated, that’s the only reason why I said that. You can talk to me about anything.”

You started to lightly grind against his thigh, contemplating whether you wanted him to notice or you didn’t.

Jungkook started chuckling as he felt your pulse on his thigh. “You know sex isn't gonna solve all of our problems, right?”

His demeanor always changed when he'd notice you were needy. One thing about your relationship you never complained about was your sex life.

“I know, but it would solve a lot of them right now”, you breathed out, grabbing a handful of his dick, making him hiss.

“I don't think you deserve dick after what you said.”, Jungkook looked at you with a serious gaze. “Stand up.”

You were confused at his sudden demand but obeyed regardless.

“Now lay on my lap, facing down.”, He demanded again and you did as he said.

Not knowing what was going to happen, you were just all up in his lap, trying to figure out what he was going to do. Your hair was wild as it went in all directions, while you were bent over.

Before you knew it, a firm hand was applied to your backside, giving it an unexpected slap. “I think you've been getting a little brave these days, hm?”

“Wha.. what do you mean?”, you sounded like you were gasping for air.

“Already outta breath when I barely touched you, huh?”, he chuckled at your desperate state before dragging his big hand along your ass cheek, teasing you before applying pressure and spanking it, causing it to jiggle. You loudly groaned at that.

“Shush, you’re lucky I’m only using my hand and not this belt.”, Jungkook said with a daring stare.

Your face felt flush and the burn you felt on your ass started getting pleasurable. You wondered what you looked like to Jungkook, bent over his knees like that. His spanks were getting heavier with every passing one.

“Jungkook, it hurts so bad”, you whined to him, your face burning.

He inhaled sharply and you assumed he was mad at you. “Didn't I tell you to shut up? Look at me.”

You turned your head to him, sitting on one of his thighs, which caused your ass to burn even more. Jungkook then cupped your cheeks rather harshly, collected enough saliva in his mouth, and spat on your face.

You bit back a moan, slightly startled. Jungkook always wanted sex to be as messy as possible.

He finally took off his shirt, revealing the tattoos that you loved so much. You started touching them, but Jungkook slapped your hand away and smacked you across your face.

You felt overheated by the intensity, also releasing yourself from your shirt, your black lace bra, and your tits spilling out of it. Jungkook thought it was a beautiful sight.

“I hate you”, you whispered stilly, feeling hazy.

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “Sweetheart, you might wanna speak up. Say that again for me.”

“I hate you for always making me feel like shit.”, you said dizzily as you adjusted yourself on his lap. He held your body effortlessly like you were a feather’s weight.

You started making out sloppily, not without him letting out small moans into your mouth that directly sent waves of arousal through your body.

“I hate you for always starting arguments and playing the victim.”, He breathed out between kisses, hands resting on your ass.

“I hate you for replacing me with that model when you know damn well where you belong.”

The make-out session became more intense with every second.

“I fucking hate you for thinking everything I do is to hurt you.”, he growled against your mouth, making a moan leave your mouth.

“Well, I fucking hate you f-“, you were about to come back at him, but he breathlessly interrupted.

“Shut up”, he groaned into your ear before shoving a hand between your legs and rubbing you.

The frustration in your body built up. “Jungkook, I need you..”

“Where do you need me?”, teasingly, he took his hands away from your pussy. “C’mon, use your big girl words.”

“Inside...”, you felt too dazed to complete a sentence. Jungkook’s hard dick under you was just adding to your frustration.

Before you knew it, he pushed your back onto the bed and ran his hands through his longer black hair before undoing the buttons on his black jeans and taking them off along with the shorts, and leaning forward to kiss you, his strong arms flexing as he did.

He lifted you up and you hook your legs around his small waist, still kissing him. He ran his tongue over your lips after biting them.

After gently throwing you onto the bed, Jungkook laid back and sat you down on his stomach.

You moved southwards and sank down onto his dick, moving back and forth, Jungkook watching his dick disappear into your body. To enhance things, he pulled your hips down a little harder.

Your heavy breathing and the occasional moans that left both of your mouths spread throughout the whole dorm. The pleasure was so intense, you couldn’t talk anymore. You were digging your long nails into his broad shoulders and his back. You were sure it left marks, but you couldn’t care to think about it.

Jungkook leaned in for another kiss, brushing your lips together and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. “Fuuck, I missed this.”

You kept on going back and forth and bouncing up and down on his dick. The two of you were out of breath.

His dick was buried deep inside of you as he thrusted in and out of your pussy, your hips met and you dug your nails in his back, losing your rhythm as both of your climaxes approached.

Hips stuttering as he fucked into you while your vision faded into black, time slowed just like his thrusts.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.”, Jungkook warned beforehand in a grunt.

You nodded, indicating you’re cumming too. “Cum inside.”

He initiated eye contact with you to make sure you weren’t just saying that. You nodded.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt his warm liquid enter your body and fire pooling low in your abdomen from your own orgasm.

Positioning yourself on the bed, you stayed there with Jungkook in pleasant silence for a bit.

After a minute or two, the both of you had the energy to stand up again. You freshened up, then made your way to your bed, not before changing the sheets, of course.

Jungkook was in the bathroom for a few minutes, later then got out only wearing his shorts, leaving the rest of his clothes on your pile of dirty clothes you were gonna wash the next day.

“Goodnight.”, Jungkook pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, before jumping into the bed with you, covering his body with the blanket and scooping closer to you.

“You aren’t leaving?”, you tiredly croaked at him with big eyes to which he shook his head no and snuggled closer to you.

Your heart fluttered more with every second that passed. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

You knew that once you’d wake up and once she’d see you with Jungkook, a loud, disappointed Jane will be heard through the whole apartment complex. But you were too tired to care.

And lastly, when you fall onto the bed and peacefully fall asleep in his strong arms, you weren’t bothered by what's to come.

And so, the cycle continues.

taglist: @taeisbae13 @queenmasterxx @jkbangtan7 @jenotation @complicatedjules @gee-nee @tokyorm @yoonievrse @ggukkieland @laurynne5 @miinoongi @kb-bangtanenthusiast @1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @madygswich @chieftoadturkeynickel @pjmnoir

Thank you everybody for your support. I’m sorry it took such a long time but i got school and stuff. I thought it’d give jungkook at least one redeeming quality so this part wasn’t so depressing. Hope yall like it🖤🖤

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professorspork · 4 years ago

Note

superhell fic prompt: RB+J reunite with Yang

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Let no one ever doubt that Yang can be a champion whiner when she wants to be.

She was on her best behavior before, listening intently as Weiss caught her up on just how badly the fight with Cinder went, and brainstorming up next steps (get to the Tree; send up a flare with Ember Celica because if there were Grimm they needed to worry about, they would have run into some by now; wait). Only there wasn’t much to talk about after that that wasn’t wildly depressing, and they’d fallen into an uneasy silence-- Yang watching Weiss hunch tighter and tighter in on herself with every step.

So she’d filled the quiet: complaining about how they’d be there by now if only she still had Bumblebee; bitching about how unfair it is that they can’t seem to get their Semblances to work; grumbling over how she has no idea how long they’ve been walking because the light never seems to change here. And Weiss snaps back, of course, but Yang can tell the annoyance is feigned-- the more irritated Weiss’s answers are, the more relaxed her body language becomes. Normalcy’s thin on the ground, here; Yang will provide it anywhere she can.

Except--

-- except also something on the ground here, it seems--

-- is Gambol Shroud.

“Oh,” Yang breathes, in a tone of voice she’s not entirely sure she’s ever produced before. Weiss runs ahead and drops to her knees, but hesitates when she goes to scoop up the weapon-- her hand hovering over it, shaking.

“I-- sorry. It’s not my-- you should--”

“You should give it back to her,” Yang says, keeping her distance and a soft smile on her face.

Weiss looks up at her with wide eyes. “But you--”

“--didn’t have to see her fall. You did. And you-- you did really good, Weiss. You should give it back to her.” It seems a small concession to make, in the grand scheme of things. She’s going to have plenty of Blake, and soon. She knows it-- she’s sure of that down to her bones, now. So what is there to be possessive of? She waits until Weiss nods, and slips the katana through one of her scabbard loops. It’s not exactly meant to be carried that way, but whatever. It looks pretty badass. “C’mon,” she says, helping Weiss to her feet. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

Weiss roasts her mercilessly when it’s a good age and a half of walking before they even hit the tree’s roots (“Oh, are we close, Yang? Can you feel it?”), but they don’t come across any other surprises. When the roots start to twist and rise above them, Yang clambers up to a decent plateau and sets off two charges-- shooting them high into the air and watching them explode like fireworks. Yang smirks, tucking her arms behind her head as she prepares to settle in and wait--

-- and promptly slips and falls out of the tree when a trio of familiar voices happily cry “Yang?!” only seconds after the flare’s report.

(It’s not her fault, okay? She wasn’t expecting them to be this close, or together; wasn’t expecting Jaune to be down here at all; it’s whatever--)

By the time she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, Ruby, Jaune and Blake have come into view, just across the clearing.

“Ruby!” Weiss cries, sprinting towards them, and that’s-- she’s Yang’s sister, she should get dibs on first hug, what gives, only then Weiss actually throws a thumbs up behind her as she runs and that’s just-- that’s just rude, honestly, as if--

“Yang,” Blake says, close enough to touch, and when did that happen?

“Blake, I--”

She has no idea how that sentence was supposed to end. Luckily, Blake relieves her of the burden, busying her mouth and bringing her thoughts to a grinding halt by pulling her into a swift, determined kiss. Yang’s struck so dumb by the shock of it that for a moment she forgets to kiss back-- hands hanging limply at her sides as she tries to process the intent pressure of Blake’s lips against hers; the swell of body heat where they’re pressed together, chest to chest; the tender way Blake cradles her jaw, all fingertips, the way you touch something precious and fragile. Every muscle in Yang’s body relaxes in an instant-- at last, finally, thank you-- and a needy, wanting noise tears itself from her throat, entirely without her volition.

It’s possible she goes a bit overboard when she finally gets control of her limbs again, wrapping her arms around Blake’s sides and dipping her into the kind of kiss she’s only seen on the covers of Blake’s novels, but it’s hard to care about how it looks-- not when Blake’s laughing into her mouth, and Ruby’s wolf-whistling (Yang releases her hold on Blake for that, briefly, only because she has to prioritize flipping Ruby the bird) and has she mentioned that she’s kissing Blake Belladonna?

She’s kissing Blake Belladonna.

She might never stop kissing Blake Belladonna.

Or, okay, maybe she will; her back kind of hurts holding this weird position so long. But when she pulls Blake back to standing, she suddenly registers wetness on her own cheeks, and she wouldn’t be surprised she’s crying only she’s-- she’s really pretty sure she’s not, so that means--

“Don’t cry,” she whispers, reaching up to brush the tears from Blake’s lashes. “If you cry I’m gonna cry, and--”

“I love you,” Blake breathes, and the words lay Yang out faster than any punch, knocking the wind right out of her lungs. The look on Blake’s face is beatific-- elated and adoring and thrilled. Like she’s proud of herself for being brave enough to say it; like she wasn’t sure she was going to know how. Only then the tears well up again; her voice hitches as she stutters: “I promised; I couldn’t get to you in time, you can’t-- I’ll follow you anywhere, I promised, I swear it, but you have to let me, I thought I lost you--”

This time it’s Yang’s turn to quiet Blake with a kiss, and she lets herself savor it. She clocks every sensation, every touch, every sigh, every brush of their lips. This isn’t about utility, or merely silencing Blake’s fears. It’s reassurance, and devotion, and a promise all its own: we’re okay. We can have this, now.

When she pulls back, she takes a deep breath, determined to find words that will mean as much as Blake’s just did, to make it clear just how much she feels--

-- only it’s a little hard to concentrate over how loudly Weiss is crying, a few yards away where Ruby and Jaune have her sandwiched between them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to-- I just-- you did promise, all of you, you said you’d never leave my side and I was-- I was alone, I was the only one left, and I--”

Yang takes Blake’s hand, gratified when she gets an understanding squeeze and a nod in return-- to be continued. Whatever confessions of love Yang’s got scratching at the walls of her insides, they can wait a little longer; right now, they need to be with their team.

Together, they join the group huddle, saying nothing as collectively they abandon any attempts at soothing words and instead finally let themselves fall apart. Ruby all but crawls into Yang’s lap, and a thread of tension deep within Yang finally, finally relaxes, knowing that her sister is safe. Jaune cries loudest and hardest of all, and Yang buries a hand in his hair, wishing she could make it better. She knows what it feels like, to stab down and feel the life leave someone’s body, but that was-- she’d hated Adam. To have to do it to an ally, a friend, to have that responsibility on you, for someone you love--

--kill me, and I can make sure the power goes to you--

-- she shakes off the stubborn image of Raven’s scarlet eyes filling her vision and focuses on the people in her arms.

“Not to be super morbid, but maybe...” She pauses and chews on her words, wanting to make sure she says what she means to. “We might be a little past promises, now. All of us. I don’t know where we go from here, and the choices are only going to get harder. But-- we’ve always found our way back to each other before. Even here, and-- and I don’t even really know where here is. So maybe we can just... trust that. See where it takes us.”

She doesn’t realize she’s closed her eyes in a wince, unsure of how she’ll be received, until she cautiously squints them open again and sees half her universe staring back at her with nothing but love.

“I think that sounds good,” Blake says,

but her eyes say so much more.

#rwby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #blake and yang #bumbleby #weiss schnee #fic what i wrote #Anonymous

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solarwonux · 4 years ago

Text

Needy || Joshua Hong

fratboy!joshua x f!reader

w.c: 3.5k

warnings: angst a little, smut, car sex, unprotected sex, dirty talking, friends with benefits to lovers, breeding kink if you squint, fluff

note: Happy Birthday Joshua hehe. I hope you guys like this one let me know :)

masterlist

You awake?

The bright light of your phone made you squint as you read over Joshua’s text, a suppressed yawn falling out of your mouth.

I am now.

You sat up on your bed, blinking rapidly trying to regain your vision while attempting to read the time. Three in the morning. You sighed, the cold air conditioning hitting your naked arms making you shiver.

Joshua rarely texted you, if it wasn’t to meet his needs. Sexual and all. And in turn you did the same. It was part of the arrangement the two of you had concocted one Friday night over a half-finished research project, a few drinks and a one-night stand.

It worked.

That was until your feelings for him grew into something more than sexual. You wanted him—no you needed him in every way possible. You wished he would cave into you instead of keeping you at arm’s length. Scared of how his frat brothers would view him if they were to ever find out he was fucking around with a girl in his Women in Literature class. He ignored you. Acted as if you didn’t exist, flirted with other people in front of you, jabbing knives into your heart repeatedly. It hurt you, but you always had to remind yourself that your feeling’s weren’t part of the deal.

You hated him and yourself for letting him treat you in such a disgusting way. For feeling desperate and insecure enough to let him use you in every possible. Until, he showed up at your doorstep with a lustful glint sparkling behind his soft eyes. And you’d fall on your knees worshipping the ground he walked on as if he were Aphrodite’s son.

Every time he came and left you swore that it would be the last time, knowing very well you were lying to yourself. Your feelings for him haunted you, they stayed at the back of your mind as you tried everything in your power to keep them locked away in a wooden box.

Joshua Hong was addicting.

An addiction you never wanted to recover from not matter how much it hurt you. He was like sweet poison running through your veins and you’d bust your lip on the venom he dispensed over and over again in order to keep him close. Your need to feel his body close to you was far greater than your unwanted feelings and another failed love affair.

Let’s go for a drive.

Joshua tapped his fingers on his steering wheel. The chill driving playlist he had put on sounding through his car speakers, while he waited for you outside of your apartment. His impatience getting the best of him, contemplating on whether he should honk his horn or not. But seeing at it was nearing four in the morning he decided against it.

He sighed and rested his head against his window. He was exhausted, but every time he would close his eyes to welcome sleep, his thoughts would start up again. He hated thinking because every time he thought his doubts would seep in. They surrounded his entire body and made him want to scream out into the void. He was frustrated that he had feelings for someone. Feelings that were so strong that occasionally would threaten to break the surface. He wanted to confess but he couldn’t bring himself to confess because he was scared that they would see him for who he was.

A coward who was too scared to admit he was in love because he feared it.

“You’re gonna open the door for me or leave me stranded out here?” Joshua jumped, your forehead pressed up against the glass of his car window. He could tell you were tired, the bags underneath your eyes were prominent, and your face was flushed and little bloated. He felt bad for waking you up, but he needed to see you. He needed to feel your calming presence by his side because despite the relationship the two of you had. You were the only person that could make him feel at ease.

He unlocked his car door, watching you yank it open and get it. “What’s up?” You grabbed his jacket from the floor and put it on top of you as if it were a blanket. It was useless but it kept the cold air at bay.

“Nothing, put on your seatbelt.” He took his car of park and backed out of your driveway. You rolled your eyes reaching over for the seat belt and put it on. “Something’s wrong but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You shrugged leaning back in his passenger seat and rested your head against the black leather.

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Reasonable.” You yawned, bringing the jacket up to your neck. “You can go to sleep if you want, I just didn’t want to be alone.” Joshua retreated his hand from the steering wheel and placed it on your thigh giving it a squeeze. You gazed over at him, taking him in just like you did whenever the two of you were together. The dark blue of his bangs tickling his eyelashes keeping his eyes hidden from yours.

Joshua tightened his grip on his steering wheel, his thumb caressing the outside of your clothed thigh. He knew you could tell something was bothering and he wanted to tell you, to open up and finally let you in. To give you a free pass to break his heart. To let you walk all over him while he succumbed to your touch, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you see what he kept hidden inside because he couldn’t lose you. At least not yet.

“Don’t do that you’re going to draw blood.” Your thumb ran over his chin, tapping on his bottom lip that he had been chewing on since he started driving. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss against the pad of your thumb. Your body felt hot and you retrieved your hand, hiding it again with his jacket. He moved his hand from your thigh and put it back on his steering wheel. The heat of his touch going missing making you feel cold again.

You yawned; your eyes felt heavy. The soft melodies that played from his car radio getting louder than before and you only assumed that was Joshua’s way of silently telling you to stop talking. You turned your eyes away from him settling on the view of the open road. The stillness of the early morning heightening your feelings for him or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Either way you found yourself wishing you had never fallen for him.

“F-Fuck,” Joshua gasped running his length over your wet slit. “You’re always so wet for me.” He mumbled pressing his head against your clit making you shudder against him. The cool air of the ocean breeze hitting your needy bodies making the two of you more desperate than before.

You knew that when you agreed to go on this drive with Joshua, he would end up driving to the spot on the beach the two of you frequently visited on sleepless nights. You knew he would ask you to help him remove the sunrider roof then sweet talk you into accompanying him to the bed of his Jeep. Where he had a plethora of blankets set up, creating a makeshift bed, claiming he wanted to watch the sunrise with you. And you knew you’d end up underneath him begging for him to give you what you wanted. What you needed.

Tonight, was no different.

Joshua had lured you into his love shack with his charming looks and soft smile. He had let sinful words escape his lips. A knowing look etched on his face, while he watched you wither next to him, untouched. He had worked you up slowly, kissed your neck gently instead of marking you up like he usually did. He had taken your clothes off showered your body with kisses, lingering on the parts of your body you hated the most, showing them love. Showing you, he was present with you and in tune with your body.

The soft waves crashing against the beach shore were forgotten, along with the rising sun against the horizon and the morning dew film that had started to stick on to your flushed-out bodies. Nothing else in the world mattered but the pressure you felt in between your legs and your delicious heat wrapping around him, engulfing him in until he bottomed out. His head falling into the crock of your neck, whispering sweet nothings against it while he started to fuck you slowly.

“Y-You feel so good, so w-warm.” Joshua kissed you, feverishly, swallowing your moans. His soft lips whimpering against yours. “I want to be inside you forever.” His hips moving against yours slowly, making sure you could feel all of him inside you. His hands found your back and pushed you against him, chests heaving against one another’s. You arched your back, gripping the blankets underneath you. Your moans bouncing off the windows of his cars, mixing with the sound of ocean waves.

This was a sight you were all too familiar with. A sight that played in your head whenever the two of you were apart. A sight you craved for constantly wondering when he would call you up again to use you for his selfish needs. This sight however felt and was different. He had taken his time, showed you that he knew how your body worked. Joshua had prioritized your pleasure over his and it sent warning flares through your body, because it felt like a goodbye.

“I want you to cum with me.” Joshua grunted his hand snaking in between your bodies searching for the little bud of pleasure. His thumb hoovering over it, the suspense had you withering, begging for him to touch you the only way he knew how. You whimpered feeling the ghost of his touch, your fingers tweaking at your nipple, sending a rush of pleasure through your body. “J-Joshua, mmm, I-I need to cum.” You pressed your chest into you hands, watching as his face contorted into pure bliss, his thrusts getting sloppier, his thumb finally connecting with your clit and rubbing slow figure eight, constrasting the speed of his thrusts. You gasped raising your hips rocking against his hips and hand, feeling the sweet coil start to build up.

“Go on angel, cum around my cock. Let me feel you.” He groaned finding your free hand and interlocking your fingers with his. You clenched around him. Your orgasm getting nearer, until it wasn’t. Until Joshua evilly slowed down his thrusts, pressing his thumb forcefully onto your clit, sending a jolt through your body. “J-Joshua please.” You choked out digging your finger nails into the back of his hand. He smirked pulling himself out of you fully, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

“Gonna let me cum in you baby, fill you up until it’s spilling out of you.”

“F-Fuck, yes Joshua…whatever just fuck me.” You said the desperation lingering in your voice. Joshua hummed in response before ramming himself into you a broken whine falling from your lips. His thumb on your clit again, your body convulsing with pleasure as you felt yourself come undone around him. Choked out moans leaving your lips as he continued to thrust himself into you, helping you ride out your orgasm while chasing your high.

Joshua panted wrapping your leg around his waist, the head of his cock pressing into the soft velvety spot making you cry out. “J-Joshua t-too much.”

“It’s okay baby I got you…always.” He leaned his body over you, his warm chest resting against your flushed one. He brought his free hand moving the falling strands of hair away from your face. His eyes boring into yours, whispering silent praises until he finally spilled his seed inside you, filling you up to the brim. He hid his head into your neck biting down, your heat continuing to clench around him, milking him out.

The remnants of your orgasms overwhelming the two of you. Pants echoing against the roar of the ocean waves, your chests rising against one another’s while you tried to recover from your highs.

Joshua raised his head, a satisfied smile playing against his lips. “Thought this was just a drive.” You said moving his sweaty bangs away from his eyes. He shook his head chuckling, sitting back on his knees pulling himself out of you. “You should know by now that I can’t hold back when it comes to you,” His hands holding your legs open as he watched his cum fall out of you, a pleased groan slipping past his bruised lips.

“So sexy.” His palm landing against your thigh making you yelp out in pain. “You’re such a guy Joshua.” You rolled your eyes trying to close your legs, fighting against his grip. He reached behind finding the t-shirt he had been wearing and cleaned you up. His grip faltering once he was finished. You sat up on your elbows watching him clean himself up. The sun had now started to fully rise casting a golden hue against his body, accentuating all the parts he hated but you loved about him. You felt your heart tense up, a simple reminder of your unrequited feelings for him. You let out a frustrated sigh falling on your back, taking in the bright hues of the morning sun.

Joshua moved and laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist resting his chin against your shoulder. “You alright?” Worry lingering in the back of his voice and you wanted to push him away but keep him close at the same time.

“I’m all sweaty and sticky.” You lied, protruding your bottom lip out and turned to face him. He smirked pulling you closer to his body, wrapping your thigh around his hip. His growing length toying against your swollen folds. “We have an ocean right in front of us.” He whispered his lips finding your neck making you sigh. “Let’s use it to our advantage.” Joshua smirked against the shell of your collar bones. The ringing in your ear from your last orgasm still lingered, but you found yourself needing him once again.

“What if a morning jogger walks by?” You pressed your chest closer to his, his lips nipping on your skin. His hands moving down to your ass and kneading it, the growing beads of his precum falling onto the skin of your mound.

“Then we’ll give them a show.” He bit down, a whimper running past your lips. And you found yourself hating the effect he had on you for the third time that morning. But just like you needed him he also needed you and that terrified him beyond belief.

Joshua wrapped a towel around your wet naked body and placed a kiss against your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. “How are you feeling?” His index finger ran down the side of your cheek taking the water droplets that had fallen from your hair with it. The morning sun had finally finished rising, waking up all life on Earth reminding the two of you that soon it wouldn’t be just the two of you anymore.

Joshua’s heart hadn’t stopped palpitating since you got into his car that morning. His stomach erupted into butterflies whenever he had held you close throughout the immoral escapades the two of you had engaged in all morning. He never wanted to let you go and now as he looked down into your glittering eyes with the heat of the golden sun rays hitting your sensitive bodies, he found that he couldn’t picture a life without you in it. You were a light in a world filled with darkness, where his demons would get the best of him.

When he was with you, he felt like he could let himself go and stop hiding behind an unrealistic image he thought he needed to keep up. An image that had girls and boys at his feet until he got what he wanted. He had used this to his advantage and for the most part it worked, until he met you.

To him you were a free spirit, who found comfort in the stillness of the night underneath the glimmering stars. You never took no for an answer and despite your insecurities–ones he wished he could make disappear forever, you always confidently kept your head held high. From the moment his eyes landed on you a spark of electricity erupted inside of him, warning sirens sounding at loud volumes in his head because from that moment on he knew he was fucked. You had ignited a fire inside of him, one he never wanted to blow out. And even though he wasn’t sure if your feelings for him held the same weight as the ones he had for you. He didn’t care because if anyone was going to break his heart, he was glad it would be you.

“Joshua Hong are you there?” You waved a hand in front of his face. His eyes blinking rapidly as he saw the ghost of images appear in his line of sight due to looking into the sunlight for longer than usual. “Sorry, what did you say again?” He grabbed a pair of khaki pants from the gym bag he kept in the back of his car.

“I asked if you wanted me to be honest with you?” You joked sitting down on the bed of his car, holding the towel tightly against your body. You watched as he stumbled back and forth while trying to put on his pants, a low laugh escaping your lips. No matter what it was Joshua always had a habit of making things harder for himself. An observation you had discovered early on in your friendship and somehow you found it incredibly endearing.

“Always…I always want you to be honest with me.” He smiled leaving his pants unbuttoned then reaching over to grab a colorful button-down shirt, eyeing you closely as he slipped it on. “I’m sleepy, hungry and a little sore.” You crossed your legs, a cool breeze blowing making you shiver slightly.

“If that’s the case then I have a proposition for you?” He smirked closing the gap between the two of you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Get dressed, I’ll buy you breakfast at the diner by your place and then we can sleep for the rest of the day.” Joshua leaned his face forward and placed a chaste kiss against your cheek. He pulled away, retreating his hands from your body, watching smugly as the heat rushed through your body.

“Wait…together, sleep all day together. Like you and me at my place on my bed…sleeping?” You moved your head to the side raising a curious brow. “Mhm, I mean I could just drop you off and go home, but it’d rather be with you. I can sleep on the couch if it makes you uncomfortable.” He shrugged leaving the last three buttons of his shirt undone, his toned chest peeking through and if you weren’t so sore, tired and confused you would’ve initiated a fourth round.

“No, it’s fine you’ve been in my bed in more ways than one it’s just that you’ve never wanted to do anything other than have sex.” You removed your towel and reached over to grab your t-shirt that had been hanging off the headrest Joshua’s eyes following your every movement, taking in your glowing body, proudly eyeing the marks he had made on you before they disappeared underneath your shirt.

“I have another proposition for you then.” He stuffed his shaking hands in the pocket of his jeans, keeping them away from your line of sight. His nerves getting the best off him and his doubts came crashing down like a wave, making him overthink once again, until he felt your hands against your cheeks. “You’re filled with a lot of propositions, today aren’t you?” Your smile shinning brighter than the sun, making his heart skip a few beats.

He swallowed thickly basking in your afterglow taking his hands out of his pockets. “Be my girlfriend?” He whispered your eyes growing wide and your breath sped up. You blinked rapidly trying to determine whether you were dreaming or not. But the hopeful look behind his soft eyes brought you back down to Earth and you let out a nervous laugh. A pout forming on his face, his hands settling against your waist, while you hid your face in his chest laughing.

“This isn’t funny I’m dead serious.”

“I’m it’s just I’ve only dreamt about this, never expected it to come true.” You whispered your hold on him getting tired and you felt his body shake with low laughter. “Glad to know I’m not the only one who had fantasized this.” He spoke his arms snaking around your body, burying his face into your hair taking in the salty smell of the ocean.

“Yes.” You mumbled after minutes of silence. “I’ll happily be your girlfriend.”

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