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cr4yolaas · 7 months

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second best (pt 2) — iwaizumi hajime

notes: at last, the heavily requested part 2 to this fic !! i really hope it met a lot of your guys’ standards — i tried my best to take as much of your requests into account ^_^ i rlly dislike m the flow of this … but hopefully u guys still enjoy LOL

tags: angst → (bittersweet?) fluff, depressive episode (reader), swearing (once), a longgg process of grief and healing and whatnot, alcoholism (only briefly), roommate! tsukishima, best friend! oikawa, tsukishima does NOT have feelings for you, not proofread and quite long

taglist (incl. everyone who asked for a pt 2 !!): @altumsomnum @gennaray @romanticandupsetting @multi-fandom-fanfic

it was tuesday.

a frigid air pierced your limbs and left you to rot away, with the windows shut tight and the door locked. there was no mistakening the dark bags hanging beneath your eyes or the flakes of skin peeling from your bottom lip, nor the soft pleas of your stomach or the iciness of your fingertips. you basked in eternal slumber and silence and darkness and whatnot, save for the ticks of a clock that was 14 minutes behind and the hum of the air conditioning.

you were not frightened in the slightest. the warning signs plastered on your flesh were no great concern, and you could not fathom the idea of having to function again. it was horribly consuming.

with a groan, you released yourself from bed, your legs trembling under the mere weight of the air. you avoided the collections of trash and clothes splayed across the floor, being careful not to disturb the peace that had formed over the past handful of weeks. the sight of the kitchen was much more refreshing.

you were locked in stasis. contrary to the comfort these walls once provided, they now served as a a form of imprisonment, designed to allow the grief and the sorrow and the anger and the guilt to coalesce and spill over. it was terribly suffocating — you wished to escape.

gently, you poured a cup of water (not that you drank more than a sip, anyways). a thought passed your mind.

you needed to leave.

sendai was a home you could not find solace in anymore. gone was the youth encapsulated in the mountaintops and the hidden pathways and the convenience stores, and no longer could you feel at ease when faced with the neighborhoods you familiarized yourself with as a child.

your new apartment was shared with an old face — one you had only seen glances of in high school, notorious for his glasses and upfront attitude. he bore no hesitance when taking you in. instead, he was grateful for your presence, as if splitting the rent with him had taken off his life’s burden off of his shoulders.

he was quick to set ground rules — laundry days were on saturdays, trash needed to be taken out on sundays, the dish washer had to be clear at the end of the day, all groceries were shared, so on and so forth. you weren’t sure if you could keep up.

it took one week for him to actually conversate.

“why did you come back here?” he questioned, with a tone that implied he knew of you for years upon years (which would be false).

you picked at the skin of your lip. “why do you ask?”

“no reason. just curious.”

in a burst of energy, you recounted the tales of your past life, one of love and youth and joy; of the old apartment, of your past hobbies, of hajime. his gaze was so distant that you weren’t sure if he was listening at all.

in return, he expressed brief apologies and turned the story to himself — he discussed his volleyball career, his teammates, how he felt somewhat disconnected from his high school friends. he did not care to mention the exhaustion riddled into the pores on your face nor the weakness of your voice. that was all you needed. a conversation, not comfort.

only an hour later did he remind you of his name — tsukishima kei — and it was only then that you realized you had moved into an apartment without taking any precautions whatsoever. he laughed when you informed him of the situation.

this was not yet a home, but it was a house. and that was sufficient.

a month had passed before tsukishima forced you to get a job. he was clearly not a fool — at some point (you couldn’t tell when), he realized you were paying off your share of the rent with your life savings, which irked him ever so slightly.

“do you plan on moving out and dying on the streets when you run out?” he complained, despite the concern laced in the fluctuations of his voice.

you began working at his former high school coach’s family store. the owner himself was welcoming — he didn’t question your circumstances nor your physical state, and merely mentioned in passing that he was “given a token of appreciation from a prized student.”

and so began the cycle. on weekday mornings, you would depart for work and tsukishima would leave for practice. occasionally, he would pack you lunch (“only because i had leftovers,” he’d say) or leave a can of coffee on the counter for you. you would work at the register until the amalgamation of students died down, and once you were left with an empty store, you would take a break and go on a walk (as requested by your boss). then, you would return in the afternoon to serve the same population of children, handing them their ice cream and their sandwiches and whatnot. when they all disappeared, the coach would let you free and dismiss you with a “good work today, let’s do it again tomorrow.”

returning home was your favorite part of the schedule. a majority of the time, tsukishima arrived later than you, leaving you to your own time until he came home with dinner and a drink.

it was a monotonous cycle, but enjoyable nonetheless.

“i’m cutting off the beer for a month,” tsukishima exclaimed one warm summer night. you left your room to see him collecting unopened bottles and discarding them in a trash bag with little regard. you could only frown.

“those are all going to waste, we haven’t even opened them,” you groaned.

there was no response from the man as he continued to clear the apartment of any alcohol, akin to a parent cleansing their child’s home. before you could protest any further, he shut the door behind him and the crashing of bottles against one another could be heard beside the building.

tsukishima re-entered the apartment with empty hands and furrowed brows. “what’s up with the shitty face?” you asked from the couch.

he clicked his tongue at your comment and bore no response, instead letting his eyes wander to the screen in front of you. the morning news was playing, as usual. and yet, it was so wrong.

the screen flashed to a familiar face, one clad with a slight grin and sweat spread over his skin. his hair had grown slightly and his complexion had darkened, evidence of his labor. but most of all, he looked happy. his eyes screamed with a passion you hadn’t seen before, and despite his haggard appearance, he seemed to be content.

you did not see tsukishima rushing to turn off the television. you did not see the screen turn black, and you did not hear the noise diminish. you did not see tsukishima’s face adjacent to yours.

“hey. let’s go outside,” he muttered before moving to pull you up and out of the house

a delicate breeze washed over you both. the sun began to kiss you goodbye, and the noon crept up in its wake, leaving both of you in the dark.

“he looked so happy,” you whispered. “i don’t know what i’m doing wrong.”

you watched tsukishima light a cigarette in your peripherals, his lighter evidently battered and marred from heavy use. he made no move to offer one to you. “you’re not doing anything wrong,” he spoke firmly, although you could tell he was struggling to formulate the right combination of words in his head. “he’s just… going along a different path.”

“it should’ve been us on the same path. i feel so stupid. he’s gone on to do such great things, and i… what am i doing?”

tsukishima didn’t push the conversation any further. you were grateful.

a week had passed before tsukishima told you he had gotten you a new job, one deeper in the city. on an early sunday morning, he presented a uniform and badge to you, your name imprinted on both. the effort made you smile.

at some point, a new cycle formed. the museum was a far cry from the run down family store, and tsukishima taught you how to welcome it with an open mind and open arms. he never did mention the exact reason for the new occupation, nor did he tell you why he was so adamant on enforcing routine in your life. nonetheless, you appreciated it.

the mundanity that your new job encapsulated was slightly more enjoyable than that of your former job. exploring the concrete rooms filled with statues and paintings and whatnot was a sufficient way to pass the time. every now and then, you’d catch your roommate detailing a specific sculpture to a curious visitor, the scene contrasting his typical behavior. not that you would ever mention it to him, though.

a new routine was not unwelcome, but it did not feel impactful anymore. you still burned blue in the night, your bones aching with reminiscence over a lost life. your hands and legs still knew tokyo; they still knew the morning commutes and the bustling cafés and the chirping crosswalks and your own home, one that had been so devastatingly haunted by grief. your heart still knew the morning calls and the evening texts and the handfuls upon handfuls of promises made on once solid territory, and yet, you knew to return to it was to betray yourself.

you missed iwaizumi hajime.

rather, you missed the life that you formulated in his presence, opposed to the shambles you had grown comfortable in now that you were back home. tsukishima had carved a clay pot for your worn soul, and yet you could not help but yearn for the comfort and stability and routine you established in a past life.

the soft padding of feet echoed outside your door. soft strings of light streamed under your door as your roommate entered the kitchen, his actions indiscernible as he maneuvered about carefully. you decided to step out to greet him.

a startled tsukishima turned around to face you. “what are you still doing up?” he interrogated, albeit not in offense. “it’s late. we have work tomorrow.”

“but i don’t want to go to work. i want to go home,” you protested. you felt childish all over again — the thirst for selfishness was one that could not escape you, even now. an overwhelming desire to be in control of your own life.

tsukishima furrowed his brows. “to tokyo?” you nodded. “okay… then let’s go to tokyo.” he paid no mind to the slanted smile that transformed your lips, instead opting to turn away and fill up his bottle. “but why?”

“i need to escape,” you sighed, as if releasing a burden that had been lingering for a moment too long. “i need change. i just- i feel so stuck. i need to live.”

he merely hummed in agreement before uttering a comment about your poor sleeping schedule and ushering you back to bed.

tokyo was a city of hopes and dreams and noise. the shift from sendai’s cicada lullabies and whispers in the wind to the incessant chatter and obnoxious roads of the city was significant — any pedestrian would notice the irritation on you and tsukishima’s faces.

the inn he picked was small, yet slightly more comfortable than your current abode. the owners were kind and your neighbors were quiet, save for the occasional drunk couple. it was a life you remembering living, but not one you yearned for any longer.

in the night, you would both visit various attractions and markets and restaurants, with tsukishima insisting on paying for your meals (“as thanks for getting a life,” he argued). for that handful of days, you bore a smile that you weren’t sure would grace your lips ever again, for there was an adolescence in the evening activities that mended the remnants of your spirit. you felt whole.

on the last day, you brought tsukishima to a ramen house nearby the inn and promised to pay for the meal. it was a tuesday, again.

for reasons you could not discover, that appeared to be one of the busiest nights for the establishment — moments after you had settled, a line began to form, and the tables were crowded with families and friend groups and dates alike.

amidst the composition of metropolitans stood a man you wished you didn’t have to see. as if it were punishment, he locked his eyes with yours, the shock in his complimenting your dread.

you watched as he excused himself from his group while ignoring the cheers and shouts about him “shooting his shot.” tsukishima observed in tandem, seemingly reading the situation from a distance despite sitting right across from you.

you noticed the bold athletic trainer embroidered onto his chest, and the fitted red shirt he wore that matched those of his team. beads of sweat compiled on his forehead — you weren’t sure if it was from the density of the room or his exhaustion or anxiety. a small part of you hoped it was the second option.

“hey,” he began. “can- can we speak outside?”

you could not help but oblige.

hajime seemed to have developed an obsession with fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. you noticed the frayed strands on a spot that aligned perfectly with his hand, and you nearly laughed.

he coughed into his fist before rambling. “i’m sorry. i know you definitely don’t want to see me, and it’s not wrong of you at all to feel that way, but i just- i’ve thought about you- no, i think about you every day up until now. i know i don’t deserve you at all, and me being here is probably super upsetting, but-“

“hajime.”

the way you called his name seemed to deteriorate him and his principles. you finally felt otherwise.

“i really, really, didn’t want to see you at all. i don’t even want the thought of you to pass my mind. i’ve built a life outside of you and i’m tired of you interrupting it.” you witnessed his heart, mind, and body freeze simultaneously.

“i- i understand that, i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been- i’ve been reflecting a lot recently and i’ve known i was horribly in the wrong and i’m ashamed to have done nothing about it, and i know this sounds really, really dumb but i wish i had just stayed with you for that extra day because- because i don’t think i can go any longer without you now that i have you here, in front of me. could we- can we at least… keep in touch?” he seemed to speak without limitations, akin to a leaking clay pot. he was distressed, evidently. but you no longer saw his face and thought of guilt and love and yearning; you held no space for him.

you shook your head gently. “hajime, i don’t want you in my life anymore. you achieved your dreams, and i’m working on finding mine. that’s how it was meant to be.”

if not for the small lamp above the two of you, you would not have noticed the tears spilling onto his face. you bore no sympathy — with a goodbye and a small wave, you left him in the alley with a heavy heart and saline tears.

to witness him before you had awakened the truth riddled in your sinew and bloodstream: iwaizumi hajime was no longer a necessity. a truth that had cowered away beneath guilt and fragility and shame had uncovered itself, and for once, you breathed a full breath.

oikawa seemed so vibrant on the other side of your screen, the argentinian sun kissing his skin almost perfectly. “…i miss you lots!! i’ll visit soon, maybe, and we can catch up and maybe go get coffee and then debrief and then…” he trailed off with an aloof grin, his words spilling out from your phone and reverberating around the living room. tsukishima stood in the kitchen, the sound of his deliberate chopping and washing contesting oikawa’s voice. “but anyways, i’ll see you soon! byebye!!”

you waved goodbye and hung up, leaving only the noise of your roommate’s cooking. a loud groan left his lips in the midst of his mixing, followed by a complaint about how irritable your friend’s voice was. you could only laugh.

gentle strings of moonlight spilled into the apartment through the kitchen window, the songs of the evening falling upon both of you and your shared comfort. tomorrow was your off day, granting you both an opportunity for an actual meal. tsukishima (begrudgingly) agreed to make your favorite dish, with the request that you’d make his favorite dessert next week.

“thank you for the meal,” you whispered. tonight would consist of good food and a relaxing night, and tomorrow would entail a day of rest and a weekly reset, along with another call with oikawa. with marred hands and a porcelain heart, you had managed at last to craft a solid life — steady health, steady friends, and a steady routine.

you would no longer be second best to anything, and that was sufficient enough.

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binniesbobastay · 2 years

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𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

'late night'

Mingi x fem!reader

You try to maintain innocence when your boyfriend, Mingi, asks you to spend the night with him for the first time... but soon you can't help but lose control

A/n: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this, just wanted to let you all know that I might not be posting as much when school starts back up but I will try my best! Requests are open and highly encouraged right now! Don't forget to reblog/give feedback on this if you liked it! Hope everyone is well and happy new year! :)

Genre: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fluff

Warnings: Smut, mature content (minors DNI) pet names, handjob, fingering, squirting, protected sex, rough sex, slight degradation (not rlly), mature language

You sighed as the silence of the dorm helped you relax. There was just something so calming about the place when everyone else had gone to bed, leaving you and Mingi alone to enjoy each other's company. That's exactly what you two were doing on this late Friday night as your boyfriend of a few months was fiddling with his phone on the couch across from you, waiting for you to finish the rest of the week's work on your laptop.

You can't help but crack a smile to yourself as you hear him let out a soft sigh of his own, impatience laced within it.

"So... how much longer do you have?" He finally asks. You do all you can to suppress a giggle as you shut your laptop, making him raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"I've been done for a while now, I just wanted to see how long you could go before asking." You snicker, proudly.

"Hey!" He cries out, jumping up from his spot and charging toward you. You quickly push your laptop to the side in order to save it from his oncoming attack.

"Mingi, no!" You laugh as he towers over you, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you.

"Sorry, but this is payback!" Suddenly, he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You continue to giggle with what little air you have left in your lungs.

"Ha!" He shouts in triumph before tossing you down onto the couch he sat on before. He quickly scoots in beside you, trapping you within his broad embrace. You try to move in order to get yourself comfortable, but his hold only tightens around you.

"Mingi! Let me move!" You protest.

"No can do, doll." He says before planting a smooch on your forehead. But soon enough, he helps shift you around so that you're lying on top of him, head resting on his chest with a warm blanket over the two of you.

"What about now, is this better?" He asks, mischievously. You roll your eyes before perching yourself up to hover over his face.

"Yes," You respond, pressing your lips to his. "Thank you, Mings." He smiles at the nickname, cheeks forming a slightly pink tint as you lay your head back down on his chest.

Mingi briefly lets go of you to reach for the remote on the coffee table before putting on the show that the two of you have been watching. But between the sound of his heartbeat in your ear and his warmness surrounding you on this cold night, you're already being lulled to sleep.

"Want me to get some snacks or anything to drink, love?" He asks as the opening credits begin.

"Mm-mm," You hum, nuzzling your head further into him. "Don't go anywhere, please..." He chuckles, pulling up the blanket some more.

"So now you want me to stay?" He teases. You scoff in response, cocking your head up to peck his jawline before settling back into him again.

Just like that, you're out like a light and the next thing you know Mingi is gently shoving your shoulder to wake you.

"Babe? Hello? You still with me?" You fight the weight of your eyelids as you see the episode has already ended.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I fell asleep." You apologize, rubbing at your tired eyes.

"It's okay, baby." Mingi snickers, peppering kisses across your face to help you wake up. You giggle in response, moving off of him. You're about to get up off the couch to start packing your things so you can take a late cab home.

"Hey," Mingi suddenly says, prompting you to turn back around to face him. His eyes meet yours, holding words he hasn't yet spoken within them.

"What's up?" You ask him, concerned. He shifts around awkwardly, biting his lip before continuing.

"Do you want to... stay the night this time?" He asks, "I would just hate to make you go home so late... and with the weather like this, I mean everything's practically frozen over out there."

"Oh..." You say, not because you don't want to but because you had never spent a night with each other before. You'd shared many late nights at the dorm and so has he at your place, but the guest always ends up going home, even if it was at some ungodly hour.

"Would it be okay? I mean with the other boys here and everything..."

"Oh, yeah!" Mingi answers your question of concern. "Don't worry, they won't mind!"

For some reason, you're still not so sure. You love Mingi. He's the person that makes you feel safe and loved above everyone else. So why does this proposal make you so nervous? Maybe it's just because it's a first.

"Are you sure?" You ask, faintly. He smirks, shaking his head as he moves to be closer to you.

"Of course, I would love you to stay the night with me. I'm the one suggesting it!" He kisses your temple.

"It's completely up to you, my love." He insists before wrapping his arm around you, messaging his thumb into your shoulder. His words of assurance make you smile and lean into his touch.

"Okay, then it's fine with me!" You exclaim.

He makes sure the tv and lights are off as you gather all your things from the living room before following his lead down the hallway into his bedroom. He retrieves a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants of his for you to borrow before disappearing into his connected bathroom to give you some privacy. Even with him not in the room, you still can't help but blush as you change out of your clothes and into his. While you wait for him to come out, you make yourself comfortable under his blankets as you climb into his bed.

You begin to feel giddy when you take a breath and your senses flood with the smell of his cologne on the sheets. That's when the bathroom door opens, and you do a double take at the sight before you. Mingi's tall frame peaks out through the doorway. The only thing adorning his chest is a simple silver chain, which you recognize as your gift to him for your three-month anniversary. All that's left on display is his toned form, with gray sweats hanging loosely around his hips.

You're almost ashamed that the look of it all makes gulp as you begin to feel dizzy. And you're even more ashamed when you find yourself subconsciously pressing your thighs together. You pull the blanket up some more in hopes to hide your actions better, eyes never leaving him as he pulls his hair band back and shakes out his messy locks, slightly damp from having washed his face.

You try to muster up at least a little bit of composure as he looks over at you, smiling before climbing into his bed next to you.

"Are you comfortable enough?" He asks.

"Oh, yeah! This is perfect." You comment, trying to keep yourself together. Still, you can't stop your eyes from roaming his body, which Mingi finally picks up on. He smirks, resting a hand on your thigh over the blanket.

"Uh huh, anything else you see that you like?" Your cheeks flush and you playfully smack his shoulder.

"Shut up..." You grumble, burrowing yourself further into the covers. He chuckles, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his chest. You grow even more flustered as you finally make contact with his smooth, warm skin.

"Sorry I'm not dressed more modestly, I don't meant to be so impolite with a lady over and everything," He winks at you. "But I can't sleep with much on."

You decide to test the waters, letting your hand splay out across his chest beside your head.

"When did I ever complain?" You ask, sheepishly. You tense up as he lets out a deep laugh at your response.

"Well, if it makes you feel better... I'm all yours to look at and touch as much as you want." His words, though intended to be lighthearted, send a chill down your spine. You let yourself relax and sink further into his bare chest as his arms wrap tightly around you once more, one rubbing soothing circles into your back while the other strokes your hair.

He puts on some dimer lighting before hitting play on a slow playlist.

"Goodnight, doll." He says, before kissing your forehead.

"Night..." You mumble. Mellowness overtakes every inch of your body... minus the growing heat in your core. It's what guides your eyes down to wander across his abs... traveling lower to his hips as you start to picture what they might look like rolling into yours. The image makes you squirm.

"You okay, love?" You hear Mingi's voice call in the faint darkness.

"Mingi..." You whimper, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You press your lips against his a couple of times, with each kiss lingering more and more. He hums before pulling one of your legs over to the other side of him so that you're sitting in his lap, kisses becoming more passionate. You let your hands tangle in his hair as your lips continue to dance with his. He moans softly into you when your tongue slips into his mouth, and you start to grind against him.

"Mmm, slow down, baby." He mumbles into a kiss. Worry overtakes you as you pull away from him.

"I'm... I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" You ask, eyes widening.

"Shh, no baby. You're okay." He sits up more, leaving a soft peck on your lips to reassure you.

"I just want to make sure this is what you really want..." He asks, becoming a little flustered himself.

"I just don't want you to think this is the only reason I asked you to stay the night."

You smile at his concern. The two of you had yet to be intimate but you've talked about it before. Mingi told you he was most comfortable with letting you decide when the time was right because he didn't want you to feel like he was ever pressuring you into it. Although you hadn't pictured your first time with him being as spontaneous as this was, it still felt like the right moment. Everything just feels so perfect... being with him in his warm bed. You feel so close to him, yet you crave more.

"I know, Mingi. Don't worry, this is what I want..." You whisper, cupping his face in your hands. "I want you so bad right now."

He nods before letting you lean back in to kiss him again. His hands find their way to your hips, urging you to move against him. You both groan at the friction it makes, sending sparks of electricity between you. His hands start to travel lower, but before they reach their destination...

"Can I touch you here?" He asks, almost breathlessly. You smile as your heart swells at how careful he is being with you.

"Yes, Mings. You can touch me anywhere you'd like." He grabs a handful of your ass in his big palms, guiding your movements. Your hands begin to travel south as well, sweeping over his chest and down to his stomach. You snake one hand down in between your bodies, cupping him through his pants.

"Fuck, baby..." He sighs against your lips before moving his own down to your neck.

"Mmm, Mingi..." You call out as the warmth of his breath against your skin makes you grow even more sensitive. You pull his sweats down enough for his hard cock to spring out. The sight of it makes you bite down on your lip as you wrap your fingers around it. He moans, tossing his head back as you start to stroke him. You take the opportunity to leave a few little kisses on the underside of his jaw.

"You're so big, Mingi." You mumble as your kisses trail down his neck and onto his shoulder. You can't help but practically shudder at the feeling of him throbbing in your hand. The sight of his tip becoming redder and leaking more precum with every pump makes you even wetter. Mingi guides your chin up to face him, eyes meeting his already fucked out ones.

"You're so beautiful... touching me like this." You lean into his touch when he moves his hand to cup your cheek.

"And you're absolutely breathtaking, you know that?" You say, leaning in to kiss him once more. You watch his brow furrow as you pick up the pace, stroking him faster.

"Okay, doll..." He coos, grabbing your wrist to stop you. You pout, longing to finish him off. He smiles at your expression, placing a kiss upon your frown.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just don't want to cum yet," He says, giving you another kiss as he slides his pants back up. "I'd much rather do that while I'm inside you..."

He takes advantage of your state of shock at his words, gently grabbing your hips to turn you around.

"Your turn, doll." He spreads his legs so you can sit down in between them, your back pressed snuggly against his chest. You move to lift his sweatshirt up off of you, but he stops you again.

"No, keep it on," He gently commands. "You're gonna look so pretty in it when I make you cum..."

"Mingi!" Every time he speaks in his low voice it makes you squirm even more. He chuckles, running his hands soothingly up and down your sides.

"Be good for me, doll." He tells you, as he helps you out the sweats he gave you. You shiver as the chilly air in the room comes in contact with your skin, but Mingi quickly comes to your rescue, big, warm hands rubbing up your thighs, gently prying them apart. Your chest swells with anticipation as his fingers come closer to where you want them. You jump when he moves his head, so his lips are right by your ear and his hand rubs over your clothed cunt.

"Mmm, so wet. You soaked your pretty little panties, sweet girl." He comments, making you wriggle against his chest. He slowly slides your underwear down your legs, and you eagerly kick them to the side. You can hear the hitch in his breath when he finally sees your wet pussy waiting for him. You cry out into the dim night when you finally feel one of his slim fingers run up your folds, catching your clit.

"Ah, Mingi!" You whimper, letting your head fall back onto him. He wraps his other arm around your waist to secure you against him. He spends a few minutes exploring you, paying attention to what exactly gets you to whine for him, before he resorts to rubbing slow circles into your clit.

"Does that feel good, doll?" He asks, lips littering kisses behind your ear as he continues his ministrations.

"So good, Mingi. God..." You run your hand up his bicep of the arm wrapped around you. He goes back to spreading your wetness around, groaning at the sound it makes.

"Can I put my fingers inside, baby?" He asks. You buck into him, too needy to form speech.

"Use your words, doll..." He demands, a slightly stern tone in his voice.

"Yes, Mings. Please, I want it so bad." You plead, desperation being your only motivation to fulfill his request. With that, he's slipping a long finger past your entrance.

"Fuck!" You hiss. He fills you up all the way, the length of his digit fits like a glove inside of you. He takes the time to experiment more, curling his finger as he slides it in and out of you. All while your grip is tightening around his arm.

"M-more, please." You beg, looking up at him with doe eyes. He smiles, pressing his lips to your head as he grants you your wish. You moan his name when he slips another finger in, constantly prodding at the sweet spot within you. You start to feel the familiar knot form within the pit of your stomach.

"Mingi... I'm close." You warn. He nods before he starts to suck on your neck, bringing his hand wrapped around you to rub at your clit again.

"Yes, just like that!" You whine, hands moving to grip the sheets beside you.

"So beautiful, doll," Mingi coos. "You're doing so good for me." With a few more thrusts of his fingers and swipes to your clit, you come undone for him. You lean all of your weight back against him as pleasure completely washes over you. Mingi takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips to clean them off as he continues to rub your clit to help you ride out your high.

As your orgasm finishes, he helps you move to lie back down. You feel his lips travel across every corner of your body, lifting you out of the daze he previously put you in.

"Mmm, I was right. You do look pretty when you cum in this." He teases, playing with the hem of his own sweatshirt on you. You giggle, pulling him down by his chain for a kiss. You moan when you taste yourself on him.

"Doing okay, baby doll?" He asks, a hand comes up to brush hair from your face as he supports his weight on the other.

"I'm amazing, Mings... you're amazing." You say, planting a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches up his face as he finally starts to lift his hoodie off of you.

"Only the best for you." He states as you sit up so he can finish taking it off of you. You can't help but blush under his dark gaze as he finally sees your fully bare form for the first time.

"So damn gorgeous..." He whispers, lips latching back onto your skin. You sigh, enjoying the warmth of his kiss. You arch your back when he suddenly attaches his mouth around one of your nipples.

"Mingi..." You whimper when his hand comes up to play with the other. You comb your fingers through his hair as he revels in the sweet taste of your skin. It all makes the neediness return to your core. You reach out toward the hem of his pants, tugging at them as a sign. He pulls away from your chest to look up at you.

"Are you ready, love?" He asks. You nod, frantically.

"Words..." He practically growls as his thumb comes up to swipe at your bottom lip.

"Please, Mingi..." You whine. "I need you to fuck me now." You watch him close his eyes, sighing as if your plead for him was a breath of fresh air. He climbs off the bed for a moment to reach into his drawer. He pulls out a condom, making sure to lock eyes with you as he tears it open with his teeth. He rolls his sweats all the way off this time, quickly sliding the condom down his length.

You spread your legs for him as he crawls back onto the bed, making him smirk. He takes his cock and runs it up and down your folds a few times, causing you both to hiss.

"Let me know if it's too much, doll." He requests with one last kiss to your lips. With that, he pushes into you.

"God, you feel so good, so tight, baby..." Mingi calls out in awe. You reach down to rub your clit to help ease the delicious stretch he gives you. He continues his kisses down your neck in order to further sooth you.

"Mingi... you can move now." You encourage him. He shivers as he pulls back out of you, the feeling of your wet walls protesting his leaving almost too much to bare. He pushes back into you, setting a steady pace. Your head falls back, completely lost in the way he fills you, leaves you empty, then fills you again. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he processes the same feeling. You rake your nails softly down his back as his cock finds your sweet spot, making your breath hitch.

"I can't believe you're mine... God, you're beautiful..." You kiss his shoulder as he rambles on sweet nothings in your ear. He's fucking you so good,,. but your mind begins to wander off to darker thoughts and desires.

"Mingi... do you want to be a little more rough with me?" He doesn't still, but he slows a bit as he reflects on what you had just asked of him.

"Do you want that?" He asks. You nod but then remember he likes words.

"Yes, Mingi... give it to me. I want everything you have in you." Your words ring clear as you look directly into his eyes. You try your best to hide the chill you get as lust fully takes over his dark orbs. He quickens his pace, leaning down to kiss you more harshly this time. You groan as he rails into you, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth. Suddenly, he pulls out of you all together.

"Turn around, doll." You don't think twice before getting on your hands and knees for him. He lets out a deep growl at the sight of your ass sticking up in the air for him. You yelp in delight as his large hand lands a hard slap on it. He quickly enters you again, gripping your hips as he returns to his harsher pace.

"Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this. God, I love this ass..." He rants, spanking you again. Your eyes roll back as he pounds into your sweet spot over and over again, head planting into the sheets.

"Fuck, Mingi! Right there!" You shout as a more intense feeling builds up in your core. Suddenly, his hand wraps around your face to cover your mouth. It's unexpected, but it turns you on, even more, when you hear your own muffled moans. That and the sound of his skin slapping against yours sends you teetering over the edge, and you spray your release this time all over the bed.

"Oh fuck! Baby doll that's so hot..." Mingi groans, leaning down to plant hot kisses across your spine. You feel the vibration of his voice against your body as he moans at his release. He cums into the condom inside of you, making sure you're settled down on the bed before pulling out of you. He collapses down beside you after discarding the condom and you roll on your side to face him. He smiles at you, pulling you into a sweet kiss, contrasting with his previous rough nature.

"So that's what you're into?" He asks, teasingly. You blush, tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

"Maybe a little... but every single thing about this night was amazing." You tell him.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, angel." He says, kissing you. "Cause we'll be doing it a lot more often from now on."

You both move to lay back under to covers and he pulls you back into his chest. You spend the rest of the restless night talking about anything under the sky.

"Oh... by the way, I'm just curious," You begin. "Why did you cover my mouth at the last second?"

"Oh well, it had finally occurred to me... that we are in fact in a dorm with other people sleeping in it." He admitted. Your eyes widen in horror as the realization hits you as well.

"Breakfast might not be the most fun... but I think it was worth it." Mingi teases one final time before kissing your forehead.

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highonmarvel · 9 months

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hi hope ur doing well. i was thinking, could u do a buckyxreader where hes paralyzed and like needs a caretaker. through some means reader ends up as the caretaker and all is well. but actually bucky was just pretending and hes not realy paralysed and he just pretended to get closer to reader and reader start expresing the idea that she might have to leave for whatever reason and buck does not like that so like he kidnaps her or something. I rlly luv ur work this is the first request iv sent

this is so good, i’m upset i didn’t think of it first. i’m so sorry for taking so long to get back to you, i really hope you enjoy, and thank you so, so much for the love. okay, here it is:

Himalayan Salt

Bucky Barnes: You’re assigned to a notoriously grumpy war vet, but he’s different with you.

content warnings here!

You nod as your supervisor goes over your final notes: James Barnes, World War II veteran, quadriplegic.

You follow her from the overcast weather into a beautiful but modest home in a fairly quiet suburb to meet the man sitting in a wheelchair in the centre of the room.

“Good morning, Mr Barnes,” your supervisor calls, tucking her clipboard under her arm as she waits for him to turn around. When he does, you’re surprised. You hadn’t seen a photo of him beforehand as this had been a pretty impromptu assignment, but you’re sure you were told he was born in 1917, yet he sits looking like he’s in forties, and aging well, at that.

“Hi, Mr Barnes!” you smile warmly at him, and he returns a friendly smile, introducing himself as Bucky and insisting you call him that.

“I just need you to fill out the last of the forms quickly,” your supervisor mutters, waving goodbye to Bucky as she leads you back out to her car.

You’re leaning against the boot of her oldish, red car, pen scratching against paper when she says, “He really likes you.”

“Hm?” you offer, raising your eyebrows but keeping your eyes focused on the form.

She leans her back against the trunk and shifts down a bit, speaking to you but looking over at your handwriting, “He’s known to be grumpy. You see the left arm? I don’t think he likes being dependent, I’ve had to swap out a lot of people.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before I took the job?” you frown, still finishing off the document, “Didn’t think I could handle it?”

“I know you’re capable, but I thought you wouldn’t want it. But listen, the organisation needs this, I don’t know if there’s anyone else we can find for him.”

You complete your signature with a satisfied smile, handing back the clipboard, “Don’t worry, I can do this.”

She nods then gets in her car and drives away, leaving you in the driveway. You stretch your arms then make your way back inside. When you enter the living room, there’s a draft you swear wasn’t here a few minutes ago. Bucky hasn’t moved, but you notice an open window. You furrow your brows as you look down at him, “Can I close that? It’s a bit chilly in here.”

“Go ahead,” he nods, and you walk over, pulling the handle it, and ignoring the recent-looking fingerprint marks on the glass.

***

A few hours into your first day, you’re a little taken aback by how friendly he is; even despite your boss’ warning, you’ve never had a patient so willing to co-operate, especially not veterans — they tend to be angry they need help, or have episodes due to PTSD, but Bucky seems perfectly in his right mind and understanding of both his and your position.

“Did they tell you I was a pain in ass?” Bucky asks before opening his mouth for a spoonful of food.

You laugh as you pull the spoon back, scooping up more of the rice and curry you made to lift to his lips, “Kind of,” you admit, “Said you were grumpy, is that true?”

He smiles, “I tend to be,” he confesses, “But I can’t keep that brooding persona up around you,” he takes a spoonful.

“So that’s what it is?” you raise an eyebrow as you pile the last of the meal onto the utensil, “A persona?”

He swallows the last of it and shakes his head with a grin, “No, but I can’t not be amused around you.”

***

You have no idea why your supervisor said he was difficult, your next few weeks with Bucky are light and fun, and you feel you’re even developing a friendship. You don’t see to him at night, and he has minimal needs during the day — some days it just feels like you’re there to keep him company.

You’re doing so well, in fact, that your supervisor wants to transfer you to a veteran from Vietnam who’s apparently even worse than Bucky (by other people’s stories — to you, if he’s anything like Bucky, he’ll be nice to see), convinced you have some magic touch.

As much as you’re developing affection for Bucky, you have to put work first, and you’re compelled to leave him for the other man who clearly needs you more. Bucky seems to be doing well, you’re sure you can’t be that special, and you’re sure someone else could take care of him just as well, if not better.

“Hi, Buck,” you greet with a smile as you close the door behind you. You hear his motorised wheelchair come rolling down the corridor to greet you.

“Hi, why could you only come in at ten today?”

You usually come in at seven on weekdays and eight on weekends.

“Sorry, I had a meeting,” you sigh, setting your tote bag down as Bucky switches his chair to manual.

“A meeting?” he asks as you take hold of the handles and push him to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Mhm,” you nod as you open the fridge, rummaging around for something to make, “There’s this other guy my boss wants me to help,” you call with your head still in the cold, “A Vietnam vet, no one else in the org will take him.”

You emerge with some eggs and milk, shutting the door with your foot before placing the contents on the island, “Did you eat? I assume Carol made breakfast but I can make more.”

“Are you going to take it?” he inquires, ignoring your question, “The job.”

“I mean, maybe,” you answer, placing your hands on the counter and tilting your head as you think, “I’m not sure yet.”

“But what about me?”

“The other guy needs full-time care, I’d have to spend virtually all my days there, but if I leave, Carol can take over for me, she can go from night to day, she’s amazing, and she doesn’t complain about you, at least not as much,” you wink, but he doesn’t crack a smile.

“Bucky, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s just that—”

“It’s your job, I get it,” he replies, and you can see the stoicism build up.

“Nothing’s final, yet,” you say as you walk over, “And you’re doing great either way,” you give him a kiss on the forehead, “We don’t have to talk about that, let’s just eat, I’m starving.”

He nods and attempts to smile, but you can tell it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You try to make conversation as you make yourself an omelette, but you can tell he’s not in it, giving short answers and not reacting to your jokes. When you reach to grab the salt, he stops you.

“Not that one,” he says, “Use the pink salt, Himalayan, I swear it makes everything tastes better.”

You grind some onto your food and sit across from him on the island. Digging your fork into it, you see something flash across Bucky’s eyes. Your first thought is hunger, but he’d just eaten and swore he wasn’t hungry. You ignore it as you bring the fork to your mouth, savouring the taste, though it’s not necessarily a chef’s rendition.

It tastes fine, but there’s something off. At first, you think it must be the salt, but it’s not the taste that’s off; usually when you eat, you feel that warmth in your throat and then your stomach, but now, it’s like it went to your head. You press a hand to your forehead, feeling like you’re burning up. Trying to stand, you immediately sway, only not falling by gripping the counter so harshly and hastily you bend a nail. You try to look to Bucky to tell him you’re not feeling well, but he’s out of focus. In fact, he’s not there. Just as you collapse and close your eyes, you feel a tall shadow over you, but you don’t have time to figure out where it’s coming from before you fall unconscious.

***

You groggily wipe at your eyes when you finally stir before turning over to reach for your phone, at first thinking you had had a dream, but your phone’s not there, and the nightstand isn’t yours. You shoot up in panic and look down at your sheets: Bucky’s sheets. Okay, maybe Bucky rang Carol and she came and set you in bed. Your head still hurts, and everything’s a little hazy.

When the door opens, you expect to see Carol, but it’s Bucky.

“Bucky!” you gasp as you throw the sheets off of you.

He gives a lopsided grin, and for the first time you notice how tall he actually is, because he’s standing.

“Christmas miracle?” he offers.

He walks over to you and sets a glass of water on the bedside table.

“That Himalayan salt is really exotic, isn’t it?”

You don’t even have time to process exactly what he means by that, he’s still standing over you, using his arms and legs just fine, in fact, like he’s been doing it every single day forever. You should have suspected something was up; how could a paralysed man stay in such good shape? The thought briefly crossed your mind once when you ran your fingers over his muscled arm, but you brushed it off.

“Bucky! You- you—”

“Are perfectly fine, I am, and you will be too, soon, those drugs just need to wear off. I know you’re having trouble understanding, just drink some water and sleep it off a little longer.”

He leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead, but you dodge him, nearly falling off the bed in the process.

“Woah, there,” he chuckles as he catches you with ease, his reflexes so sharp it’s nearly unnatural, “Now I’m taking care of you.”

You’re not sure if you can’t speak because of the drugs or if it’s because you’re in shock. He gently sets you back down and your head falls against the pillow as you struggle to keep your eyes open, spots of black blocking little bits of your vision.

“I’ve been needing someone, I’ve gone through a few, but you, honey, you’re special, and I knew it from the moment I saw you. You can’t leave me, I still need you.”

✪

[taglist; @cjand10]

#dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x y/n #dark bucky barnes x you #dark bucky x you #dark bucky #soft dark bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky barnes x you #soft!dark!bucky #yandere bucky barnes

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