#all the pain i was in on monday made it count for like 3 days instead of 1

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Chapter 10)

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: oral, bathroom sex, strap-on, smut, mommy kink, little bit of angst at first

Author's note: so sorry this took so long to post lol things have been crazy

Taglist (hope I didn't miss anyone, and if I did, I'm so sorry!): @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch

When you had found out your dad was cheating on your mom two years ago, you could feel the numbness seeping into every crack and crevice in your body. You remember looking at his phone while you two were watching a tv show and seeing the dirty texts he sent to a woman he used to work with. He was never very subtle about texting her, and you just had a feeling. Deep down, you knew what you were going to find. 

That didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. 

The betrayal, the anger, the sadness. They all rushed over you but you’re still not really sure if you actually felt any of it. You were in a daze for the rest of the day, the need to scream building in your throat gradually. 

You finally couldn’t take it anymore and you went for a run the next day, which is something you never would usually do. The thumping of your feet against the pavement sounded like why? why? why? Why would he do this? Why would he choose her over his family? You ran until it felt like your legs were on fire and your lungs were about to burst until you finally doubled over, bit down on your hand, and let the guttural scream claw its way out of you. Your teeth had broken your skin and you could still see the small white scar if you flexed your hand just right. 

After that, you locked the pain somewhere deep down inside you. You hadn’t even gotten to really confront him about it.

But when Agatha says that your dad is having an affair, you feel your stomach drop and somewhere, the buried feelings start begging to get free, rattling on the bars of their enclosure. 

“What?” You ask quietly, a lump growing in your throat as you crane your head up to look at her. Your hand on her stomach stalls. She has a distant look in her eyes. 

“Monday night after you left, your dad couldn’t find his phone so we were looking for it. I found it on the kitchen table while he was looking in his office and he had just gotten a text. I glanced at it and it was from a woman.” Agatha doesn’t continue, but you can only imagine what the text said. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump getting bigger. You remember making that mean comment to her the first night you got dinner about him cheating again. 

She laughs ironically. “I guess I can’t be mad. I mean, look at us.”  

You glance up at her to meet her sardonic eyes. “Yeah, but look at who you cheated on versus who he did. I’m sure this other woman isn’t even half as hot as you are.” 

She softly smiles and then leans down to peck your lips with hers. “That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” 

“So what are you going to do?” 

She sighs deeply and starts gently tugging on the ends of your hair. “I don’t know. Confront him? Get a divorce? I’ve spent the last two days just trying to figure something out.” 

Her cold silence makes sense now. So does the way she fucked you earlier. 

You turn your head and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, because what else is there to say? “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Her fingers tighten in your hair and they pull to tilt your head so you’re looking right at her. “I can think of something,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. 

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow raises and she smirks with a daring nod. “Anything for my step-mother.” 

You kiss down her stomach, making sure to sink your teeth into her delectable abs and suck hard. She moans and arches her back off the bed. Soon enough, her midsection is littered with red marks and fuck, it’s hot. 

If your dad is too much of a fucking idiot to appreciate this woman, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands. 

You settle between her thighs on the bed and slowly drag your tongue up the inside of her right thigh. A noise slips out from her lips and you do the same thing on the other side to hear it again. 

“Stop teasing, baby,” she warns in a low voice. She’s glistening. 

You chuckle and then lick up through her folds. She groans and raises her hips so you can get in closer. Your tongue swirls around her clit. 

“Fuck,” she swears under her breath. You begin to lap at her, heat growing between your own legs at the way her breath stutters and her thighs begin to shake. 

“Did he ever make you feel like this?” You ask, words garbled since your mouth is full of her cunt. But she rolls her hips on her face seemingly involuntarily, so you know she understood. 

“Never,” she says breathlessly and you pick up the pace, swirling and sucking, wanting her to feel good. 

She cums quickly and then she pulls you up into a deep kiss, tongue moving over yours to taste herself. 

“What does this mean for us?” You wonder aloud after she cleans your face and you both are cuddling again. If Agatha and your father get divorced, will this affair end? Will it become more?

“What do you want it to mean?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, because you don’t. “I like this, though.” 

She kisses your forehead and you can feel her smiling against you. “I do, too.” 

***

Dinner tonight with Agatha and I? is what your dad texts you the next day while you’re at school. You frown and quickly shoot Agatha a text about it. The two of you hadn’t spoken any more about what she was going to do about your father’s infidelity so you just want to be aware if you’re walking into a trap. You’re not sure you can take another dinner where your dad sits you down and tells you that he’s getting a divorce. 

Agatha responds that she hasn’t talked to him yet. You did know that he was away on business – although, that could just be code for having an affair – so he hasn’t been home. And you don’t think Agatha would be one to confront him over the phone. 

You text your dad back that you’ll be there. You’re curious to see what it’s about. 

The rest of the day passes quickly while you worry about what dinner could bring. You take a quick shower when you get home from school and put on a casual black dress. You don’t really care about looking nice for whatever restaurant you go to, you just want to look good for Agatha. Your mouth almost waters at the thought of whatever she will wear. She always manages to look ethereal. 

Your phone buzzes with a message from Agatha. Your father is meeting us at the restaurant. I’m outside. 

You can sense the tension radiating off the older woman the moment you step outside. She tersely watches you walk over to her car and slide into the passenger seat. Agatha’s wearing pants with a silky button down shirt and she looks hot. 

“Hey, baby,” she says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“You okay?” 

She grimaces and puts her sunglasses on. “I’ve barely talked to him since he left on his trip. He just asked if the three of us could get dinner.” 

Your brow furrows. “Are you going to say anything tonight?” 

Agatha purses her lips and reaches over to pat your leg. “I wouldn’t do that with you there. I’m not putting you in the middle of this.” 

Your heart warms because your mother did not hesitate to put you in the middle of her problems with your dad. She had broken almost every boundary and turned you into her therapist, and it now fills you with immense gratitude that Agatha won’t do that. 

Even though you are very much in the middle of it, with you and her having sex and all. 

“Thank you.” 

You both launch into small talk until you pull into the restaurant parking lot, where you see your dad waiting out front. Your stomach begins to sink just at the sight of him. 

You can’t believe he did it again. 

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Agatha asks, voice tight with worry. She must see how you’re looking at him through the window. You’ve never opened up about your parents with her, but you can tell that she at least partly knows how you must be feeling. 

You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. “I’m good.” 

You try to not get angry when your dad’s face lights up at the sight of the two of you. 

“My favorite girls!” He booms and pulls you both into a hug. You can feel how tense Agatha is and you’re sure you feel the same. “How are we?”

“Good,” you mutter and Agatha says something along the lines of that as well. 

He made a reservation so you’re immediately led to a booth tucked in the back of the restaurant. You sit opposite your dad and Agatha doesn’t hesitate before sliding in next to you. 

“How was your trip?” Agatha asks, tone laced with something sharp like she’s trying to catch him in an act. 

Before he can answer, the waitress comes over. She looks a few years older than you, with brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Almost like a younger version of Agatha, you think. She takes your drink orders, her gaze lingering a bit too long on you as you ask for a sprite. 

You can see Agatha scowling at her out of the corner of your eye. 

Your dad starts talking about his work when she leaves but you suddenly lose all focus when Agatha slowly moves her hand to your thigh and grips it possessively. 

She clearly does not like the waitress, who comes back a few minutes later with your drinks. Fully aware of this, you reach out to take your sprite from the waitress and your fingers brush right in front of Agatha’s face.

Her nails dig into your leg and you subtly smirk at her. Her eyes have completely darkened. 

After everyone orders food, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’ve started throbbing from the tight hold Agatha has on you – both literally and figuratively – and you’re not sure you’ll last another minute without some relief. 

Just as you push open the door, someone grabs your wrist and shoves you inside. You gasp and whirl around, fear clenching your heart, only to find that it’s Agatha. 

She closes the door behind her and locks it. You’re so thankful it’s a single-person bathroom. 

Agatha advances and you step back until you hit the sink. 

“I know what you’re doing,” she hisses, trapping you against it by putting her hands on either side of you. 

“What do you mean, mommy?” You ask innocently, enjoying the way her dark eyes flash. Her hand comes up to wrap around your throat and a thrill runs through you. You’re sure you’re absolutely dripping now. 

“You were making eyes at that dirty waitress,” she accuses. “Looks like you need a reminder of who you belong to.” 

Before you can ask what she means, she flips you over so the sink is cutting into your hip bones and you can see the reflection of you both in the mirror. You look like a mess. And she looks like she is enjoying every bit of it. 

And then she grinds her front against you and you feel something hard in her pants. You watch your mouth fall open in the mirror. 

“You-” You don’t even have the words and the ache inside you is only getting worse. A smug smile spreads across her face as she reaches down to unzip her pants. Her other hand moves your underwear to the side, not even bothering to take it off.

She drags her strap-on up and down your slit, laughing cruelly at the way your hips move to try to get her inside. 

“Please,” you whine, feeling empty. 

She leans down so she can whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?” 

“You, mommy,” you say desperately and you let out a loud moan when she finally pushes into you.

“Be quiet,” she jeers and spanks you hard. You bite down on your lip to keep from moaning, but also to keep from telling her that spanking makes noise, too.

She sets a rough pace from the beginning, grabbing onto your hips with bruising force. You let out little gasps as she thrusts into you, over and over, already bringing you close to the edge. She reaches around you with one hand and starts rubbing your clit and your head falls forward in pleasure. 

Agatha pauses for a second so she can yank you back up by your hair. “Look at yourself,” she says, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror. She resumes her fast pace. “Look at how well you’re taking my cock for me. Look at how much of a slut you are for me.” When she calls you a slut, you physically can’t stop the sound that comes out of your mouth. 

“Mommy, please,” you pant, your entire body feeling like a livewire. “Wanna cum.”

“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum after making mommy jealous like that?” 

“M’sorry, mommy, I’ll be good,” you practically cry. You meet every thrust, eyes rolling back in your head from how perfect she feels. Your body is on edge from all the effort it’s taking to not cum. “Need to, so close.”

“Who do you belong to?” 

“You, only you,” you sob. 

“Good girl,” she says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” 

Two more thrusts and a rub of your clit and you cum all over her cock. It’s explosive and you bite on your lip so hard that you taste blood. She begins to slow down as you come back down to earth and you rest your head against the mirror to recover. 

Someone knocks on the door and you freeze since your step-mother is buried to the hilt inside of you at this current moment. 

But she just sweetly calls, “Occupied!” and you can’t help but laugh breathlessly. She pulls out of you and you wince. 

“Wow,” you say as she helps you clean up. “You know I wasn’t flirting with the waitress, right?” 

She smirks and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I know, baby. I just couldn’t spend another minute listening to your dad talk.”

“Join the club.” 

You feel like everyone is watching the two of you as you make your way back to the table, but in reality, they’re not. Your dad is on his phone texting someone – you think you see a woman’s name at the top – but he quickly swipes out of it when he notices that you both have come back. You glance at Agatha just in time to see her eye twitching. 

“There you ladies are! I thought you had gotten lost. Everything okay?” He asks. You think you’re just imagining the condescending tone, but Agatha stiffens next to you so maybe not. 

“Actually yeah,” she says. “I’m filing for divorce.” You gape at her as she spins on her heel and walks away. 

You turn your head back to your dad, who looks back at you, dumbfounded. 

“Sweet pea-” he starts but you hold up your hand to cut him off. 

“No. Fuck you. You don’t deserve anyone.” 

And then you leave to follow Agatha, feeling suddenly like the weight inside you has finally lifted. 

[slippery-minghus]

like, i'm definitely not feeling sick, which is great, but hooo boy i feel like hot garbage. this week has taken a fucking lot out of me. i'm so tired i could cry.

[0097linersb]

I See Red (m)

ONE SHOT

Pairings: San x Reader

Genre: Smut (basically pwp)

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Jealousy, dom!San , he spits in your mouth at some point, slapping, choking, overstimulaton, edging, the whole deal really, name calling, oral, fingering - This is just pure filth I’m sorry. 

A/N: this was originally an nct jeno's fic but I thought it matched San so well so here u go

Follow me on twitter for updates, previews, spoilers: wooyosgfreal <3

You didn’t know what finally set San off.  

Sure, you haven’t been on your best behavior lately but it’s not like it was your fault; Ever since he decided to go on little gym dates with Yubin and just casually mentioned it to you one day, like he was talking about how sunny it was outside and not about how he was hanging out (almost daily) with a super hot girl, alone - and in minimal clothing too.

You couldn’t even trick yourself with “she’s not his type” because that woman was everyone’s type, damn, she was even your type.

It’s not like you didn’t trust him or felt insecure about yourself - it made no sense, really. It’s like people say: Jealousy is a little green monster that ate your insides and got you to unreason things. You just couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed, you mean, try knowing your boyfriend is hanging out for hours with a blonde goddess with a six pack AND be happy about it.

So, since he decided to be a pain in the ass, you decided to become what you were born to be: His worst fucking nightmare.

But in all fairness, you didn’t know exactly what tipped him over the edge. It could have been you casually hanging with his roommates in the shortest skirt you could have possibly found, it could be the way you kissed Wooyoung (just a small peck) so the boy would stop playing around and annoying the others with his over-the-top signs of affection, it could even be the way you asked Seonghwa to massage your shoulders because you were in pain but too annoyed to ask your boyfriend for it. He sure must not have liked the way you were dancing with Mingi at the party last Friday or how he got home on Monday to you wearing one of Yunho’s shirts - but he was San, of course he said nothing about it. Plus, he knew you better than that.

It didn’t help when Wooyoung and Mingi asked what was going on between you two and you shared your boyfriend’s gym adventures, of course you could trust those guys to join in on making their friend’s life living hell. It was just open game then, Mingi playfully flirting with you and complimenting you whenever he could and Wooyoung teasing your boyfriend about it.You were always careful to not cross any lines, though. Only doing things that you knew weren’t actually going to upset San and would be perceived by him as one of your little games, which is what they were. You also kept it subtle and spaced out - which is why you were expecting to be playing for a long time, or at least for a bit longer than you actually did.

Your plans were ruined on Wednesday afternoon, when the black-haired boy came out of the shower to a Jung Yunho pulling you to sit on his lap, his arms going around you to show you how to play the video game. Your boyfriend quietly sat down next to you two, saying nothing and staring deeply at the Tv screen but, the look on his face and his clenched jaw were sending a shiver down your spine.

Damn you for refusing to have sex since you found out about San’s gym buddy, this pent-up frustration was not helping you at all.

Thanks to the distraction that was your boyfriend, you couldn’t focus on the race going on and lost at the easiest level, resorting to whining to Yunho, who simply patted your thigh in a comforting manner and let out a soft, “It’s ok, baby.”

Your pouting soon morphed into a face of shock and your little fit was interrupted as your boyfriend hastily stood up, groaning a “That’s it. Room, now!”

You looked up at him confusedly but not done with being annoying yet, you decided to try one last jab, sending him a challenging look, “I don’t really feel like it.”

San simply raised an eyebrow at you, his whole aura shifting, making you coward immediately under his cold gaze, “Care to repeat that?”

“I said- Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, move.”

You repeat what your boyfriend said in a mocking tone but obey, leaving an amused looking Yunho behind as you wondered where the fuck did all your confidence go to. You really couldn’t keep the character up when San lowered his voice - you liked playing with fire but you weren’t crazy enough to jump in it.

As you entered your boyfriend’s room, your heart was beating like crazy. You felt like a kid again: When you knew you did something wrong and your mother was about to punish you for it. The anxiety did not sit well with you, maybe you should start being nicer to the man.

“San, I-” You tried reasoning as soon as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t give a fuck, sit down.”

Damn.

You were happy to comply, legs getting wobbly as his strict tone had a weird effect on you. You sat on the edge of the bed and San was quick to stand up in between your legs, you tried to look anywhere but at him, but that was proven impossible as his hand softly but confidently grabbed your chin and tipped your head up so you were forced to stare at him like a deer stuck in head lights. You could hear your own pulse throbbing inside your ears. 

Well, no use acting all innocent now, you really did bring this upon yourself.

“Had fun?” He asked, his voice could cut you right open. You didn’t know what to answer, nervous of any extra consequences that may come if you did, but your silence was clearly not accepted as his grip on your jaw tightened, “Speak.”

“Yeah.”

He hummed, eyes slowly skimming over your face as his thumb softly brushed your cheek, “So pretty. Too bad you don’t know how to behave, huh? I think it’s about time for me to put you back in your place, don’t you agree?”

You close your eyes and enjoy the smooth circles he was tracing with his thumb, not sure where he was going with this - your heart was trying to leave this room, though, by the way it kept pounding against your ribcage- but knowing you wouldn’t get a lot of soft moments from this point forward.

“Did you think I would find it cute?” He sternly asked, his tone contrasting with the light touches on your face. He knew your answer to that and you knew he was just playing your cards, and well, it was working.

“No.”

“So you acted like a brat on purpose?” He tried giving you a chance, knowing you really had no way out of your own mess.

“At your service, sir,” You joked as you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, maybe make the man laugh a bit so he would forgive you.

“Watch it,” He spat out and you kind of regretted saying it when his hand flew to the back of your head, pulling on your hair harshly so you were forced to look up.

Ok, San was mad mad.

His cold expression didn’t faze at the way you groaned in pain, neither did his grip on your hair as he bent down so his face would be right in front of yours as he warned, “You brought this upon yourself. Clothes off.”

You had it in you to fight a bit, but honestly, you were already aching between your legs and curious to know how all of this would unroll. You quickly undressed, leaving your panties on since he didn’t say anything about it, your eyes not leaving the floor as you did it. You then stared at your boyfriend, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the next instructions. San simply looked at the place between his spread legs, signing where he wanted you. As you sat down, you noticed the man had placed the full body mirror he owned right in front of you while you were undressing.

Oh, boy.

You two locked eyes through the mirror and he calmly asked, “What’s the safe word?”

And that’s when your brain stopped working, knowing you had really fucked up. San has always been a little bit more on the rough side in bed, even kind of dominant sometimes, but never like this. You two had never used a safe word before. He noticed your struggle and suggested in a soft but strict tone, “Is Apple ok?”

“Yeah,” You muttered and he nodded in acknowledgement before harshly forcing your thighs open with his hands, making you gasp. His chest was pressed against your back, but you couldn’t feel his heart hammering crazy like yours was.

San slowly moved his hands higher up your thighs, getting goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He ever so lightly traced one single finger against your clothed slit as he said, eyes still locked with yours in the mirror, “I want you to watch yourself being a slut, maybe then you’ll be embarrassed and learn how to behave.”

You whined, not sure if it was at the tip of his finger barely grazing over your clit or at his words. Honestly, who the fuck was this man?

You could see the wet patch of fabric between your legs in the mirror and San caught you staring at it as his middle finger rubbed slow circles on you, only smirking at you in response, clearly satisfied with the effect he had over you.

It was embarrassing how quickly you were squirming under your boyfriend’s touches; your bottom lip was almost bleeding from how strongly you were biting it to keep your whines inside your mouth as you tried to move away from his finger because it was soon becoming too much. He was having none of it and his other hand firmly found its place  on your jaw once again as he grunted right into your ear, “Be a good girl for once and take it. We have barely started.”

You did whine at that, his stare not fading for one second as he tightened his grip on your face and pulled your head back to the front every time you tried to look away from the mirror.

“Look at you. I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re already a mess, what happened to all that attitude, huh?”

He was right, he had only touched you through your panties and you were already so close. Guess you really were all bark and no bite – But to be honest: You were dripping, your underwear was soaked and his finger drawing shapes against your clit just felt so good you didn’t care about your little personality problem at all.

Your thighs were quivering from the stimulation and when he sped up his movements they tried to fly shut, but his voice stopped you midway, “Don’t you dare.”

You grabbed the fabric from his pants harshly, “San, I’m-”

“Only talk when spoken to.”

This new side of San, his heavenly (or devilish) finger teasing you plus his hard dick throbbing against your lower back, got you spasming in record time. Your nails carving shapes on the skin of his thighs as your whole body shook when you orgasmed. San continued tracing your clit through your high, until you were jumping from sensitivity and whining at him to stop. He lightly pushed you so you would stand up and you struggled to comply with your shaky legs, but tried your best.

You stood in front of your boyfriend, expecting him to then order you to suck his dick or something and this would be all over with, but were surprised when he pulled your panties down your legs with delicate fingers. Goosebumps filled your skin again at the mere touch of his knuckles against your lower abdomen. It was weird how he touched you so softly while his eyes burned holes into you, you had never seen San so worked up before, you felt like he could explode at the wrong move of a finger from you.

He slowly kneeled in front of you, eyes locked in yours. His hands were on the back of your thighs and you felt cold and warm at the same time, nipples hard with the shivers that ran up your spine. San didn’t comment on your shaking frame, giving your clit a soft kiss as he stared up at you.

“San, I-“ You began, trying to inform your boyfriend you were too sensitive from just cumming.

“I’ll make you cum once for every time you flirted with someone this week, and now once more for disobeying me,” He simply informed before going back to work, tongue doing wonders against your swollen clit.

You cried out at his words.

The man pulled your legs slightly apart so he could go all in, his wet lips and warm tongue playing with you until the sensitivity turned into pleasure and you were entering a place of euphoria, trying to not moan too loudly since his roommates were right outside. He noticed you were trying to contain your noises and tskd, eating you out more fervidly. When it became too much again, your hands grabbed his hair for support, which only resulted in you receiving a firm look, “No touching. If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”

Ouch.

You tried balancing on your feet, but your body was quivering at San’s ministration and he wouldn’t let you go. Not managing it anymore, you let your body fall to the front, supporting your hands on the bed, thanking the heavens your boyfriend didn’t complain about it. You wanted to tell him you needed his fingers inside of you but didn’t want to disobey his order once again, only letting moan after moan leave your lips. San simply looked animalistic kneeled in between your legs and you forced yourself to close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure.

You were not recognizing yourself but that thought was far from your worries as you released once again against his tongue, hand gripping  the sheets so tightly you were afraid of breaking your fingers. San stood up, holding your waist so you would do the same as you breathed hard, “This one was for rubbing yourself all over Mingi at Yeonjun’s.”

You could see the way San’s cock was throbbing against his pants, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he pushed you down into the bed on your back. He hovered over you, slightly brushing his lips against yours before telling you, “I’m giving you 10 seconds to recover.”

One, he counted out loud before kissing your cheek. Two, he mouthed just below your jaw. Three, he whispered and sucked on the side of your neck, making you twitch in bliss. Four, he licked your collarbone. Five, he kissed between your breasts, your back automatically arching. Six, he brushed his fingers against your hardened nipple, loving the sound of your mewls. Seven, he left an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach. Eight, he did the same to your navel, feeling your abdomen tense under his fingers.

Honestly, this was not helping you calm down at all. Shivering this much couldn’t be healthy.

On the count of nine, his nails scratched the inside of your thigh and on the count of ten, he plunged two fingers inside of you with no warning. You chocked around nothing, biting the back of your hand so you wouldn’t legit scream. You had never been so wet in your life and the way his fingers were slowly rubbing so good against your walls, had you out of your mind.

“Put your hand away, I want to hear you,” He ordered, eyes locked on the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. How did he even know you were biting on your hand?

He continued pumping and curling his fingers, speeding up when he felt your walls tightening. You started feeling your third orgasm approach you even faster than the first one, tensing your legs so you wouldn’t close them because of the sensitivity.

San smirked at you, “Look who’s being a good girl for once.”

You didn’t even care anymore, everything felt so good you couldn’t even remember your name and you were sure you sounded like a porn star, having no control over your voice. You were so close, knuckles white again at the force you were holding onto your pillow. So, so close.

And then it all stopped.

You whined loudly and San simply ordered, “Use my fingers.”

When you gave him a confused look, hoping you hadn’t understood what he said right, he nodded at you, “You heard me.”

You groaned and dropped back down, San easing three fingers into you and waiting still, patiently. This was humiliating but when he gave you a pointed look, you simply forgot about your pride and pushed yourself against his fingers until you were ready to explode again, and as promised, San didn’t do a thing, letting you make yourself cum only using his fingers. It didn’t take long, considering how fucked out you were already (and you weren’t even actually fucked yet). A few more bounces and you were done for, wanting to cry at how good it felt.

“This one was for getting my friends hard, prancing around in those mini clothes of yours.”

You couldn’t help shutting your legs now, body spasming every 2 seconds. San said nothing about it this time as he stood on his knees, undoing his belt with one hand, groaning he couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped his pants and boxers, letting his cock out and your heart pumped faster at how hard and swollen it was.

Your boyfriend roughly opened your legs, positioning himself on top of you and entering you in one harsh thrust, not even waiting for you to adjust (not that you needed it much, considering he was just 3 fingers knuckles deep into you). Real tears started to run down your face at the oversensitivity, your mind couldn’t form a single comprehensible thought, “San, I can’t-“

“I’m not stopping unless I hear the safe word, you can take it,” He snapped, voice as harsh as his thrusts inside of you. He had never fucked you this hard, the whole bed shaking and complaining. There was no way people wouldn’t know what was going on by now.

You trashed under him, it felt like too much but at the same time you didn’t want it to stop. San’s hand was quick to wrap around your throat, squeezing on the sides to hold you down so you would stop moving.

“My pretty princess crying over getting fucked after acting like a slut for days. That doesn’t seem right, now, does it?” He groaned, not faltering his speed or strength one bit. “Tell me, if I didn’t give you the attention you wanted, would you have let one of them fuck you?”

You whined, nails digging harshly on his back (which he thankfully allowed). You thought about answering but you couldn’t really mutter any words with the way San was drilling into you and he knew it.

“I asked you a question,” He hissed, tightening his grip around your neck, cutting the blood circulation from reaching your head.

The lightheadedness didn’t help your case and after another few seconds without an answer, you felt a sting from the slap San gave right across your face. He had never done that before and as a strong independent woman, you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did it.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“N-no.”

“No what?” He demanded. The neighbors must really hate you from the way the bed frame kept hitting the wall, but nothing else really matter besides how you were being so pleasantly destroyed.

“Only you can fuck me.”

“That’s right, you’re mine. Open up.”

You were not sure what he meant, embarrassed of doing what you thought he was implying and being wrong, but when he stared you down so intensely that you got actually scared, you slowly opened your mouth. He gave you a wicked smile before slowing down his thrusts a bit, his hold on your neck still strong and when he slowly lowered himself and spit right into your mouth, your body betrayed you and you came all over the place without a warning, not even giving you the chance to brace yourself.

“Good girl,” He caressed the place he had slapped you with his thumb, stopping his movements to let you calm down for a bit. You were not even sure your brain would ever go back to working normally. He silently and slowly sucked marks on your body until your breathing somewhat resembled something normal again.

“Come look at yourself,” He called, tone a bit gentler. Maybe your tears softened him up a bit.

You tried to obey, carefully dragging yourself to the edge of the bed so you could stand up in front of the mirror where he wanted you. As soon as you tried standing up, your legs gave out, but San was right behind you to catch you, holding you up by your waist and pointing to the mirror, “Look.”

And you did. You had purple bruises on the left side of your neck, on your breasts and on the inside of your thighs. Your hair was clearly all tangled up, there was dark mascara running down your face and smudged around your eyes. You looked absolutely wrecked already.

“So fucking pretty,” He whispered, littering your shoulder with soft kisses. “All of you. Every single part, and they are all mine.”

You shakily nodded. At this point, if San wanted you to walk around wearing his hand as a necklace you wouldn’t even complain.

“It’s all of my friends’ wet dreams to fuck you, I don’t want to ever hear you moaning Seonghwa’s name or see you kissing Wooyoung again, understood?” Your boyfriend told you, placing two of his fingers on your lip for you to suck. You wrapped your mouth around him, sucking on it gently and drawing your tongue along the length of his fingers, feeling his still hard cock against your lower back. He had no reason behind that action, he just wanted to show he could do whatever he wanted with you, whenever he wanted, and you would enjoy it.

“It was a joke,” You breathed out once he retrieved his hand, referring to the kiss your boyfriend was talking about.

“I know baby girl, but let’s not give them any hope. I want them to know who you belong to,” He quietly told you, his breath hitting your ear. “Get on all fours.”

Your body stiffened, “San, I really can’t-“

“Did I ask?” He cocked his eyebrow at you and you took a deep breath before shakingly obeying.

As you crawled in bed, your boyfriend finally took his clothes off before positioning himself behind you. At least this time he pitied you enough to at least start fucking you slowly.

A hiccup escaped your throat, almost sure you couldn’t handle it anymore and San caressed your lower back to comfort you as he grinded his cock inside you, “Only one more, princess.”

You were in heaven and hell at the same time, your pussy was so sensitive that every thrust felt like you were right on edge, you had never experienced anything like that before. Your arms gave out quicker than your attitude dropped, left side of your face pressing against the sheet and staining it with your mascara and tears. You were honestly not even sure you were moaning anymore, not being able to hear yourself, but with the way San sped up his movements you figured you were.

“Hands,” San asked and you complied, like being used by him was your sole purpose in life.

He grabbed both of your wrists and held it together on your back, the bruising tight grip and the low groans leaving the man’s mouth brought you closer to reality.  If you were in a normal state of mind, you would wonder how your boyfriend could last so long, he had been hard and throbbing since he locked the door earlier - But since your mind was floating somewhere far away, your only reaction was to sob in pleasure and overstimulation.

“Do you remember the safeword, baby?”

You shut your eyes tightly and nodded your head desperately.

“Tell me,” San asked.

“A-apple.”

“Good girl. We’re almost done,” He told you and you could feel how his thrust were getting shallower and messier. You were so close too.

After another few minutes, San let out a loud moan with a broken whine and shot inside of you (something else you two rarely do, both of you enjoyed it but the pregnancy scares were always too much), you could feel his cum hitting your walls and you loved it. He continued to fuck into you for a whole minute, riding out his high as the hottest sounds left his lips. You clenched around his sensitive member, signaling you were close and he hissed, suddenly pulling out.

You whined like you had never whined before and he simply shushed you, slowly gathering his cum dripping from your hole with his fingers and pushing all of it back inside. You cried out, using your now free hands to hold onto the sheets as he pumped his finger into you – You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the sheets were ripped by the end of the day. He was teasing you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reach your high with the speed he was using. You tried pushing back into his fingers but he was quick to hold your hip still, “I don’t think so. Sit down against the wall.”

You wanted to scream.

“San, please,” You sobbed.

“What? You’ve been teasing me with Mingi for almost 2 whole weeks and I can’t even tease you for a few minutes? Don’t you think that’s a little bit unfair?” He asked, stopping his fingers only when he felt your walls spasming around him. “Now do as I say.”

You accepted your fate, trembling as you followed his instructions, surprised when he got out of the bed and sat down on his desk chair, calmly looking at you.

“Touch yourself,” He instructed. “But don’t cum, or else we will go for another round.”

“You said we were almost over,” You wail.

“And we are baby, just do this one more thing for me.”

You opened up your legs, letting your fingers rub against your clit. You were so wet and San’s cum just made you more lubricated. Since you were already so worked up, you had to trace less than 5 circles against yourself before becoming a noisy mess, ready to let it all go.

“Stop,” Your boyfriend’s strict voice cut you off.

You opened your eyes, which you hadn’t even noticed you had closed, and stared at San in shock, halting your motions.

“Now do it again while looking at me.”

You held the sob that wanted to escape down your throat, shakingly nodding and obeying, just doing anything he wanted so you could cum already. You touched yourself while you looked into San’s stern eyes, your cheeks burning at the fact he had never seen you so vulnerable before.

“I can’t hold it any-“ You stuttered, your eyes stinging again.

“Stop.”

The sob that you had been trying to hold back escaped, ripping through your whole body, you had no pride anymore, or shame, as you let your tears spill freely as you begged, “Please, San. Please. I ca-can’t-“

San silently got up and crawled into bed, positioning his head in between your legs.

“It’s ok, princess. You can cum now,” He told you gently before lowering his head and sucking on your clit. He only had to do that three times and you were seeing colors you never had before. The wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you tough you passed out for a second or two, seeming lost when you managed to open your eyes again.

“Hey baby, it’s ok,” San comforted you softly, quickly getting up on his knees to hug you with one hand while drying the tears that wouldn’t stop soaking your flushed face. “I got you, it’s all over now.”

He was fast to embrace you tightly, bouncing you gently like people do to calm babies down as he muttered praising words after praising words against your ears. It all filled your heart with warmth and pride.

“Want to take a bath?” He asked you in his baby voice and you managed  to form a small smile, remembering that was the same man who was slapping you across the face and spitting in your mouth a few minutes ago.

You nodded and the boy ran into the bathroom so quickly you didn’t even process his absence.

“I’m only preparing the bath, baby. I’m here,” He assured you when he wasn’t back after a minute or so. You were thankful he understood how vulnerable you felt in this moment and how it was something new to you.

He eventually came back and cuddled you until he felt like the tub was full enough. San carried you easily to the bathroom and tested the water temperature before placing you down with care.

“I used your favorite bath bomb,” He smiled and you returned the gesture, appreciating the warm water around your muscles and the gold glittery appearance of it. “I’m just going to go grab our towels, ok? I’ll be right back.”

You waited for a while, playing with the water and taking deep breaths to inhale the vanilla scent coming from it. The water looked so creamy and you slowly rubbed your face with it, trying to clean all the make up and dried tears. You were content, you just had the best sex of your life and San was proud of you.

You were almost falling asleep when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, “Honey, are you covered?”

You looked down confusedly at the opaque water, the man had just almost chocked you to death, why was he worrying about your modesty now out of all times?

“Yeah, why?”

“Wooyoung and Mingi are being a pain in the ass, they want to make sure I didn’t kill you.”

At that you laughed and just let yourself slide down the bathtub, letting the water drown you in shame.

    ____________________________________

“Babe?” You called, watching the way San played with your fingers. When the boy hummed at you, his chest pressed against your back making your body vibrate, you continued, “What finally set you off?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I’ve been trying to get on your nerves for days-“

“Oh,” He laughed and then sighed in embarrassment at his confession, “Yunho called you baby, only I get to call you that.”

You turned around from where he was holding you on the tub, trying to see if he was serious, only to find your boyfriend pouting.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Choi San.”

[daemour]

Pairing: Yunho x f! yn, mentioned possible woosan

Word Count: 4002

Warnings: cursing, kissing

Genre: Angst, fluff, e2l, school setting (unspecified), E for everyone

Summary: Getting flowers from a secret admirer was the highlight of your week. But with a certain blonde student disrupting your every day, things may change.

Hello @hotteoki <3 I am your secret admirer! It was great getting to know you and I hope you enjoy this! It kinda got away from me, and I do have a bonus woosan drabble that connect to this so i hope you enjoy it! and can you figure out who was giving the flowers?

-

“Ooh, look how popular you are, (Y/N), you got flowers again!”

Your peace of mind is shattered when you hear your worst enemy, Jeong Yunho walk by and tease you about your secret admirer. “Just because you’re going to die a lonely old geezer doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my flowers, Jeong,” you snap at him before returning your gaze to the bouquet of wildflowers lying on your desk. Every Monday, an assortment of flowers would be waiting for you, and every Monday Yunho teases you about it incessantly.

Yunho cackles, leaning forward (on your desk, might you add) and poking at the flowers. “What’d you get this time? White and purple lilacs? Cute. This person must really like you, (Y/N)...I feel sorry for them.” He punctuates each word with another poke and you close your eyes, exasperated.

“Jeong Yunho, get back in your seat before I smack you,” you threaten, but it does nothing to intimidate your personal pain in the ass. All he does is laugh and raise his hands in mock surrender.

“Hey man, I’m just saying. You’re so mean to me already, how would you be if they came out and told you.”

You blink at him, barely processing his words before your mouth drops open and you get ready to retort when the teacher comes in and you’re forced to sit down with a polite smile.

“Mr Jeong, please take a seat so we may begin our lesson,” your teacher calls out and Yunho shoots you a smile that you want to wipe off his face before taking his seat.

-

“I don’t understand what he has got against me,” you complain to your friends as soon as you sit at your lunch table. “Ever since we went into college he’s made it his life’s mission to annoy me. I don’t think we ever interacted with each other in middle school. Or even high school! I know he’s my neighbour or whatever, but he could stand to be nicer.”

Wooyoung slurps on his banana milk, not even caring about your issues, but Seonghwa leans forward, always invested in the gossip. Even if he’s heard the same thing from you dozens of times. “Maybe he likes you?”

You scoff loudly at the suggestion. “Ew, no.” You shake your head and shut down that idea. “Even if he did, that’s no way to get me to like you back! What, I fall into his arms? ‘Oh, Yunho, thanks for making fun of me and putting me down at any moment you get!’ Yeah, that’ll work.”

You roll your eyes so harshly you think they might pop out of your head and Wooyoung finally looks up. “Have you told him to stop?” You open your mouth to object but your friend cuts in again. “Or do you just fight him back and keep playing his game?”

You blink owlishly before sighing and leaning back in your chair. “You know, sometimes you can be pretty smart.”

Wooyoung nods happily before it hits him and his head snaps toward you. “Sometimes?”

-

Your usual bouquet awaits you when you arrive at school the following Monday. This week it’s white lilies and you stop to breathe in the fresh scent. But to your surprise, something else is sitting on your desk. A packet of mentos sits plain on the desk and you stare at it for a few unblinking moments.

“Do you like it?” You jump at Yunho’s voice suddenly appearing from behind you.

Of course. You whirl around and point at the offender. “Can’t you leave me alone? I don’t know what I’ve done to make you hate me, but really, dude. What lengths are you going to go to? How did you even find out my least favourite candy? Why do you keep bothering me day after day?”

Yunho stares at you, his eyes wide and you almost feel bad. Almost. But you shake away these unwanted thoughts and narrow your eyes. Wooyoung was right—you let the teasing go on for far too long. “Just leave me alone,” you sigh and plop down in your seat and bury your head in your arms, no longer wanting to see your biggest tormenter. (And yes, you are exaggerating.)

Yunho mumbles something you can’t quite hear but you’re unbothered by it and just steadily ignore him. There’s another pause before you hear him walk away and your shoulders relax. But even so, you can’t help but feel guilt for how you snapped at Yunho. Maybe he really didn’t know you were feeling annoyed.

But no, you can’t bend like that. He’s been bothering you for a good part of the school year and even if he thought you were okay with it, surely he should’ve at least gotten to know you before jumping into teasing you.

You have more important things to worry about anyway, such as your secret admirer. Every time you see a new bouquet on the desk, your heart rate spikes and you can’t stop a smile from growing on your face.

But, the more you think about it, the more worried you are about what the outcome of this would be.

-

And lately, not just flowers have been appearing on your desk. Sometimes, there’s a phone charm, maybe a strawberry milk or two, always something extra alongside it. It’s only made you more curious about your secret admirer, and you can’t stop talking about it to your friends.

In your quest, you’ve narrowed it down to two people, Choi Jongho and Kang Yeosang. Both are in your grade, although you don’t talk to them very often. You just know they’re on the quieter side so would be more likely to prefer secret gifts. Plus, you’ve had projects with both of them so they are at least connected to you in some way.

“Are you just going to spend your lunch doing this?” Wooyoung barges into your empty homeroom during lunch, carrying his lunch as well as a sandwich from the cafeteria for you. He pulls a chair in front of you and sits. “You gotta at least eat. Just because Hwa is sick doesn’t mean I’m gonna feed you in his place.”

You laugh, looking up at him and taking the sandwich. “Aren’t you doing that right now though?” You dodge his swat, laughing as you push aside your gifts of the day. “Anyways, yes. I have my guesses narrowed down, but even if they’re both wrong is just fun to me,” you shrug.

Wooyoung hums, leaning forward to poke at the ring pop. “Can I eat this?”

You can’t help but snort, nodding. “Go ahead. But, you know, I wonder if they’d ever come forward. All I get are gifts and I don’t know if they’d ever tell me how they feel. That's why I keep guessing. I want to know.”

A sigh escapes Wooyoung’s mouth, and he cocks his head. “But (Y/N), what if they don’t want to be known? I mean, maybe they’d just like to be anonymous and just it die after graduation?”

You shrug, meeting his eyes. “I just wouldn’t want to live my life not knowing. Of course it can be scary to confess, but missing that chance would be worse, wouldn’t it? I wouldn’t ever reject them meanly if they turn out to be someone I wouldn’t like. Hell, my two guesses I don’t know if I’d want to date.”

Wooyoung nods, relaxing in his chair. “No, that makes sense. It’s better to get a solid answer than not. Do you think they’ll ever reveal it?”

Yet again, you shrug. “I really don’t know. I would understand if they don’t, but I hope they do.”

Wooyoung opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, the door to the classroom opens and an unfortunately familiar head of hair pokes through. “What are you doing here, Jeong?” you snap, eyes narrowing. “Can’t even have lunch in peace now?”

A choked sound escapes Yunho’s throat and he looks ready to run back out and pretend it never happened, but he swallows it back and steps into the classroom. “I want to talk to you, (Y/N). I promise it’s nothing bad. Will you hear me out?”

You narrow your eyes and beckon him closer. “Fine. What is it?”

His eyes flick to Wooyoung, who leans back with a face of disapproval. “You can say it in front of me too,” he states, his expression unchanging.

At that moment, you really appreciate Wooyoung. Although he’s the one who told you to set a boundary with Yunho instead of letting him have his fun, he’ll still have your back. Yunho glances at you but you make no move to correct Wooyoung so he sighs and steps fully into the room.

“It’s about the gifts. And no, it’s not a joke,” Yunho quickly adds when he sees your face shift to a deeper frown. “Uh. I was just passing by when I heard you talking to Wooyoung and I figured I should tell you now.”

A sinking feeling starts to grow in your stomach. “No–”

Wooyoung starts to look genuinely regretful that he decided to stay, and you can’t blame him one bit. “It is me,” Yunho confirms. “I wasn’t the flowers.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “You think that helps, Jeong?” You let out an exasperated sigh and a shake of your head. “You’ve been making my life here difficult for the better part of a year and I finally tell you off. And you think adding to my confusion on the secret admirer is going to help? You must be crazy.”

Yunho shakes his head frantically. “No, it’s not just that. Of course, I wanted to show I was sorry but there’s another reason. I…uh. Do I really have to say it in front of Wooyoung?”

You frown, eyes flicking back and forth between them before you sigh and concede. “Wooyoung, could you give him some privacy?”

With a nod and a face of pure happiness at not having to witness what would be awkward for him, Wooyoung practically runs out of the classroom, leaving everything but the sandwich he had brought for you. “What did you want to say, Jeong?”

“I like you, (Y/N).”

Before his words settle fully your head’s already a mess. “What?” You can’t get a full sentence out, just blinking at your classmate, whose ears seem to be turning red. “No, this is another prank, right? You’ve decided that I can’t just have a good time with my friends.”

Yunho steps forward, pleading with his eyes but you scoot back in your chair. “(Y/N), please. I’m being serious. I wouldn’t joke about that.”

“You wouldn’t?” You scoff, even though it sounds a bit wet. “Tell me, why would I believe that? Even if you had left me alone, that doesn’t erase everything else you did to me. You don’t act with sincerity, Yunho. Go away like I told you to weeks ago.”

Yunho frowns and doesn’t go away, only coming even closer. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You can make it up to me by leaving me alone. You can’t expect me to like you after bothering me so much, really now, Yunho.” You shake your head again, standing up and gathering your stuff, pointedly leaving the gifts he had been giving you on the desk. “I should go find Wooyoung now.”

And before Yunho can say anything you leave him standing in the middle of the class as you wander through the halls hoping to pass the time before your next class (thankfully not with him).

-

“Can you believe he did that?” You groan, pressing your face against Seonghwa’s shoulder as Wooyoung awkwardly pats your back. After successfully avoiding Yunho for the next week, you had to call an emergency movie night with your friends to figure out what to do.

“Well, I hate to say it, but I told you–” Seonghwa cuts off his jibe when you glare at him. “Look, (Y/N), you don’t have to accept him or even be friends. But maybe you could just let him try and redeem himself. He seems genuinely sorry. And if you do that and then still tell him no, maybe then you could feel less conflicted about it.”

“I don’t know if you should do that,” Wooyoung cuts in.

Both you and Seonghwa turn to face him with confused looks. Out of the three of you, Wooyoung was the most realistic when it came to Yunho. Seonghwa wanted it to end up like a storybook romance, while you just wanted to never speak to Yunho ever again. Wooyoung had always been the voice of reason that maybe Yunho just didn’t mean it with malice and was the one to tell you to set a boundary with Yunho in the first place.

“Why not?” Seonghwa frowns, shifting so that he can face the two of you properly. “Out of us all, you’re probably the closest to him since you know his friend, San.”

Wooyoung snorts, waving his hands. “Just because I’m friends with San doesn’t mean I’m friends with Yunho. I just think if (Y/N) doesn’t want to have anything to do with Yunho, then that’s that.” He shrugs, leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn but Seonghwa isn’t letting it go.

“But I feel like it would be good for Yunho to learn how to properly apologise,” Seonghwa argues again. “He shouldn’t expect you to fall for him after he confesses right after an apology.”

You bite your lip and look at your hands clasped on your lap. Both of your friends have a good point, and to be honest, before Yunho had started bothering you, you didn’t hate him. In fact, every so often you had thought about inviting him to hang out with the three of you. You sigh again. “I’ll try. Just till the end of the school year, okay? When I see him with his friends he seems like a genuinely nice guy. Plus, wouldn’t it just make things awkward with you and San, Woo? San is one of Yunho’s closest friends after all.”

Wooyoung shrugs, still clearly unhappy but not willing to fight any longer. “What’s the worst thing that can happen? Yunho’s a cool guy, so I do hope he doesn’t screw it up.”

Seonghwa laughs. “Who knows? Maybe in the end, they’ll fall in love and get married and I’ll be the best man..”

You laugh and shove at him. “In your dreams. You just want to be in the wedding party.”

Seonghwa shrugs, leaning over to rustle your hair. “We all know it's true.”

-

“Oh, hi, Yunho.”

You didn't even have to find the tall blond this time. He's waiting by your locker. How did he even find out the number? You have no idea, and you’re not too sure you want to know.

“(Y/N), can I say something?” He holds out a bag with all the gifts you had left behind the previous week. “And you can honestly keep these. I don't like these candies anyway.”

“Uh. Sure? Thanks.” You take the plastic bag from his outstretched hands with only a little hesitation. “What's up?”

Yunho blinks, surprised at your willingness to listen, although he quickly composes himself. “Uh. My friend, San, told me I should apologise sincerely, not just saying sorry and then confessing.”

You can't help but smile at that—San and Seonghwa would probably make good friends. “Well, that would be appreciated,” you joke and Yunho’s body relaxes at your short laugh. “I can't fall in love if you go from bullying to loving.”

Both of you realise at the same moment how badly timed that joke was, but Yunho gracefully ignores that. “Would…would you like to go to the library with me after school today to work on finals?” Yunho almost whispers, as if he’s scared you would reject him. And at any time before today, you probably would’ve. But this time, you offer a small, unsure smile.

“Sure.”

And although your brain is screaming at you, your heart is telling you that this is not a mistake.

-

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown close to Jeong Yunho. and his dumb smile. His jokes that somehow always make you laugh and also want to choke him out sometimes. Even your friend group has warmed up to him. Seonghwa still teases you in private about being with Yunho, but Wooyoung is just as friendly as ever and…also seems to be joining in with Seonghwa on the teasing. You’re not quite sure what to make of it.

But one problem still persists—the question of your secret admirer. The flowers have dwindled, although they’re still showing up. It’s almost finals week and you’re stressing out of your mind over the exams, and sometimes you can’t help but wonder to yourself if the person’s crush on you is dwindling. And why don’t you feel bad about it?

At first, you thought you liked them, whoever they are. You’d smile every time you see the flowers and you were genuinely relieved that your secret admirer wasn’t Yunho. But these days, you look at Yunho, and you wonder what would’ve happened if you had said yes to his confession. Would he hold you gently the way he holds your weekly bouquet to admire it?

“Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?” Wooyoung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his hand waving in front of your face.

“Ah– Sorry, Wooyoung. What’s up?”

“No, no, you seem distracted.” Wooyoung plops down in front of you, leaning onto your desk and looking up at you with his brows furrowed just slightly. “Is something wrong?”

You shrug. “It’s just that…I’m confused.” You sigh from your bones, propping your head up with your head. “I couldn’t stand Yunho for such a long time, and yet, these days I can’t seem to get enough of him. I look at him and I’m fond. I’m not looking at him and I’m fond. But what about my secret admirer? They’ve been constantly there for me just by giving me flowers. It’s always perked me up. But I don’t think I like them the way they want me to…the way I want to.”

Wooyoong frowns. “What do you mean, the way you want to? You can’t help it if you don’t have feelings for them. And sure, maybe you appreciate them, but it doesn’t mean you have to like them back. It’s not like you’re dating. Hell, you don’t even know who they are. Maybe they won’t give a shit, or maybe they’ll be disappointed but what can they do if they never told you?” He shrugs. “If you like Yunho, just go for it. He’s a nice guy, outside of how he treated you. And a little birdie may have told me that he still likes you.”

You nod, defeated and yet relieved. “That’s true. Hey, Wooyoung.” Your close friend cocks his head, looking at you with wide eyes. “Thank you for your advice. I do appreciate you keeping my head out of my ass and in line. I know I don’t say it enough to you and Seonghwa, but you guys are my closest friends and I love you guys.”

Wooyoung’s smile softens as he leans in to give you a warm hug. “Can’t leave you floundering by yourself, dumbass.”

You slap Wooyoung on the shoulder but don’t break the hug. “Fuck off, idiot. I hope you stub your toe today.” You pause. “Did Yunho really tell San he still likes me?”

-

You can’t stop pacing the park in front of the school. You asked Yunho to meet you there after the last day of classes, hoping to ask him out, but now you’re starting to regret it. What if Wooyoung and San were mistaken and Yunho no longer likes you? What if he just laughs in your face and tells you it was a farce for a last prank before your graduation? You bring your thumb up to your mouth, biting on the nail as you debate between just playing it off as wanting to go to the arcade, or whether you should suck it up and tell Yunho. Or you just ditch him here and go home and eat a big tub of ice cream. The choice is yours.

You’re about three steps into your last plan of leaving when a warm hand grasps your wrist. “Hey, sorry it took me so long,” a familiar low voice hums. “San needed to talk to me. Hey, did you know–”

“Can I ask you–”

The two of you pause before giggling at the cliche interruption. “You go first,” you offer. “I want to hear the tea.” You wriggle your eyebrows at Yunho, making your friend snort.

“Did you know San likes Wooyoung?”

You blink for a moment before a grin breaks out on your face. “Oh, really? That’s so cute! I don’t know San well, but I know Wooyoung’s pretty fond of him. Hopefully it works out for them!” You’re pretty sure you’re practically sparkling from hearing about this. Wooyoung has always been the single one in your friend group—Seonghwa’s dating this one girl from a different area and they’ve been happy for years, and you’ve had on-and-off partners through the years. It would be nice if he finally liked someone.

Yunho nods, pleased. “I hope so too. They would be cute together. Anyways, what did you want to ask me?”

Ah. You’re pretty sure you’re looking a little sick from how Yunho’s barely hiding his concern behind his eyes. “Uh. So. I changed my mind. See you at graduation!” And hopefully never again.

But before you can back out like a coward and never face Yunho again, you catch a twinkle in his eyes and a knowing smile and you immediately have a sinking feeling in your gut. If your fears are confirmed, you’ll make sure to write a nice eulogy for your friend. “...What did Wooyoung tell San and what did San tell you?”

Yunho chuckles. “Same as what San told Wooyoung, who told you.” His smile somehow grows even larger. “Honestly, the only reason I haven’t killed San yet is because I’d like to see him and Wooyoung get together.”

Your eyes narrow. “Well, I’m not sparing Wooyoung that same courtesy. I sure hope San’s able to keep Wooyoung alive.” You turn away, ready to find Wooyoung to beat him up but the grip that you forgot Yunho had on your wrist tightens and he tucks you into a back hug, his other arm wrapping around your waist.

It feels like time stops as you can hardly breathe when Yunho’s chin rests on your shoulder. “You can fight Wooyoung later, but I think something is slightly more important than that.” And before you can say anything, Yunho spins you around and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Now it really feels like time has stopped for you, but all you can do is stare up at him with your face slowly heating up until you feel you may melt. “Uh,” is all you manage to eloquently say, but Yunho just smiles, waiting for you to gather your thoughts while looking at you softly. “Uh. I think that slightly is a bit of an understatement.”

Yunho bursts out laughing at your admission, leaning in again until his nose brushes against yours. “There’s the (Y/N) I know and love. May I kiss you again?”

You’re pretty sure he can feel the heat radiating off your face, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you nod before whispering out a ‘yes’. And, before you can even blink, his plush lips are on yours again. It feels like a daydream, but as your hands come up to cup Yunho’s face, you smile into the kiss and feel at home in his arms.

[superficialdomina]

Fray (Into Submission, Part 4)

Part 3: Lost

Series masterlist

AN: An Avengers training session gives you a chance to show Loki how fun it would be to let you win.

As always, an enormous thank you to @acidcasualties for making this whole series happen. Special thanks to @lokisgoodgirl for checking the accuracy of my swordplay!

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. Thirsty with some reminiscing, but nothing explicit in this one. Inaccurate descriptions of combat training. Mostly just lurid descriptions of Loki's smoking hot bod in workout wear, with a touch of plot development.

Days. You hadn’t seen him in days.

There were hints of him; you knew he was still in the Tower. You’d heard his voice a couple of times, and yesterday when you’d stepped into the elevator you could smell that he’d been there minutes before. But he’d upped his avoidance game. It made you sad, and a little afraid.

The look of anguish he’d worn as he’d cast you out of his apartment remained etched in your memory, leaving the subtle ache of guilt in your chest. Had you gone too far?

You mulled it over as you pulled on your gym gear. Loki might still refuse to talk to you this morning, but you were confident that you would at least see him. After several of your coworkers had missed Saturday afternoon’s impromptu training session, Rogers had rescheduled for first thing Monday morning, with strongly worded insistence that everyone be in attendance. His WhatsApp message didn’t quite single Loki out by name, but none of you was in any doubt about its intended target.

The spacious training hall gleamed with the sunlight that streamed through the large 26th story windows, casting a warm glow on the polished mats. The luxury of the Tower was as prominent here as on every other floor. The gym was loaded with state-of-the-art equipment and comprehensive accessories, all meticulously maintained - as though getting your arse kicked by a handful of superheroes would hurt less because there wasn’t a speck of dust on the yoga mats, you thought wryly. You peered hopefully around the room as you entered. I just need to know that he’s OK, you told yourself.

Loki and Thor were sparring hand-to-hand in the open rink, the soft thudding of their bare feet resonating as they moved around one another. Occasional grunts carried as one of the pair landed a strike. Despite Thor’s size advantage, they were evenly matched; Loki was always a fraction faster, seeming to know exactly where Thor would move next, as though each step were choreographed and practiced to perfection. Observing them was like watching an ancient dance. Which is exactly what it is, you thought, momentarily awed. A fierce, millennium-old dance.

Thor’s bare chest, though impressive, was still somehow less appealing than Loki’s lithe form, clad in workout wear that clung tightly to his broad back. You let your eyes blatantly traverse him. His elegant ankles smoothed into perfectly sculpted calf muscles; his Godly hamstrings flexed under the hem of his training shorts, which in turn restrained his flawlessly rounded glutes. His body was utterly splendid. A delight of form and function, forged by centuries of practice and power. A work of art.

If he would just put that phenomenal dedication and discipline to good use in service to you…

“Time!” Rogers called loudly, and the brothers stepped back, arms lowered, chests heaving. Thor clapped Loki on the back amicably, and for the briefest moment, you saw Loki wince. The small movement made your blood run hot.

Pain.

“Three minutes, everyone!” Rogers continued, before consulting the pairs listed in the complicated run sheet on his ridiculous clipboard. “Two and eight,” he began. “Three and twelve. Four and… Sixteen.”

You groaned inwardly, pushing thoughts of your recalcitrant conquest from your mind. The Black Widow. Not exactly a leisurely start to the morning, then.

“Come on, sixteen,” Natasha laughed. “Show me what you’ve got.”

The room filled with the sounds of Avengers in practice: thudding boots, wordless shouts, the familiar hum of mutual respect and collective, focused power. As you sparred, you began to relax into the collaborative energy, muscle memory activating as your training partner led with her familiar fighting style. Nat feinted here, and you responded there; the two of you were strong, and graceful, and -

Thump. You landed flat on your back on the hard mat. Again. At least this time you’d seen it coming. Your body just… didn’t move that way. Or that fast.

“You’re getting better,” Nat insisted as she hauled you to your feet. “You almost avoided that one.”

“I saw what you were doing,” you agreed, somewhat reluctantly. “I just couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

“They rarely can,” she winked, as Steve’s obnoxious whistle sounded again.

“Drinks!” he shouted, “then re-pair for weapons.” He returned to his spreadsheet, muttering numbers to himself, as you reached for your water bottle and your thoughts – and eyes – returned to Loki.

He was sauntering towards the group with Bucky, shoulders thrown back in haughty masculinity, animatedly wiping sweat from his brow with his sinewy forearm. Whore, you thought lustily. They looked almost amicable. You gazed at him, curious; confused. He seemed… fine? Loki caught you watching him and gave you a wink. A wink. Almost like…

Like old times, you thought. What is going on?

You turned away, chugging water, then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He seems fine. Was it real? If he was truly so nonchalant, why the vanishing act over the past few days?

You were still standing there, bemused, when the team began to pair off again. In your distracted state, you’d missed the next call. Who…?

Only one person remained by your side, and his imperious gaze left you in no doubt as to your next partner.

Loki.

You moved together to one end of the training mats. This close, you could see the fine trails of fresh sweat across his bare shoulders; smell the sweet scent of it heavy around you when he raised his arms to pull his curls back into a messy plait. You imagined the saltiness of it gathered in the valleys of his muscular, sinewy body, with which you had so recently become better acquainted; the way it would pool and concentrate in the deep hollow of his jugular notch.

I could make you sweat like that.

He continued to smirk at you mischievously as he moved into position, as grandiose and egomaniacal as ever. “Short swords, Agent?” he drawled, a short, thick blade appearing in each hand with a flicker of green.

“Just one, Laufeyson!” Rogers shouted, before you could respond. Loki raised an eyebrow at you, flirting with the idea of arguing; but he wordlessly vanished the weapon on his left.

“You didn’t want to lend that to me?”

“Darling, they are hundreds of years old,” he drawled coolly. “I don’t lend them to anyone.” Turning to fetch a training sword, you hid a smile at his words. Had he forgiven you?

Or he’s just feeling cocky.

The gym’s practice swords were hung neatly at the far wall. You tried to pick one that was long enough to be effective, but not so long as to be cumbersome. It was highly irrelevant; he was faster, stronger, and infinitely more skilful than you. You selected a narrow doge sword that at least felt comfortable in your grip.

The gym echoed with the ring of steel on steel as your peers sparred. How many rounds had it been? Each time you lasted barely a minute before he outdid you, the sharp edges of his blade finding their mark at your shoulder, your thigh, and once, your collar bone. Despite your budding fatigue, you found yourself mesmerised by him. He wielded the ancient sword with harmony and fluidity, so fluent was he in its unwritten language, so familiar with its little quirks. Like an old lover, you thought madly, as you struggled to steady the vibrations of the blade with each parry and clash.

His weapon whistled again; this time the flat of his blade struck your hand, and you dropped your own sword. He stepped back to patiently wait for you to ready yourself again.

His fitness was phenomenal - you were breathing hard, your arms burning, and he barely seemed to have slowed. The smirk he’d given you earlier was once again pasted across his beautiful, pretentious face. Patient, but smug.

“Where have you been, Loki?” you asked as you retrieved your weapon, buying time to catch your breath. Dammit, your knuckles stung; you hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“Here and there,” he replied easily. No denial this time. “Are you ready?”

“I was worried about you.”

“If you mean that you feared for my safety, I am most able to defend myself.”

“That’s not what I meant.” For a second you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability return to his features. If you did, it was quickly swallowed by his traditional haughty confidence. “I just… Well, as long as you’re OK.” Ready, you lifted your blade - and a thought occurred to you.

The timing had to be perfect; if he hadn’t been looking directly at your mouth, he might have missed it. Provocatively raking your eyes down over his long body, you bit your lower lip, and gave a tiny, breathy moan.

It was horribly overdone, but it worked. Loki hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening, and you took advantage of his momentary distraction to slip below his guard; the steel of your sword captured his, and you pushed - hard. There was the harsh sing of metal-on-metal as you slid down the blade, checking his weapon against his chest. His move was forfeit. He stepped backwards off the edge of the mat, losing his balance - and you pinned him against the wall.

You pressed your body into his, your mediocre blade below his chin, and carefully assessed his face. Was he irritated by your trick? If anything, he seemed… amused.

“That,” he said lightly, looking down at you over his long, regal nose, “was an interesting tactic.”

“You know what they say,” you muttered, still breathing hard. “If you can’t beat them…”

“I dare say it would not be widely effective,” he added.

“More than you think, perhaps.”

And then you noticed it: the slight flush to his cheeks, which could be excused by the workout. The twitch of a muscle at the corner of his jaw. The feel of his perfect cock swelling slowly under his training shorts.

Not amused… Aroused.

Loki knew the moment you’d realised his state of mind. Or rather, state of body.

You’d opened your mouth in mock astonishment, your eyes bright with barely contained glee.

“Are you enjoying this?” you had asked, quietly delighted. The crossed swords had still been pressed unrelentingly against his chest, his blade locked tight under yours. It made his pulse quicken pleasantly.

Loki had given a small, wordless huff, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. In truth, he’d found it highly enjoyable; your control, your audacity, your erotically mischievous little decoy. His own powerlessness. But how could he admit that to you?

The sounds of water splashing off bathroom tile brought him back to the present. Gingerly, he stepped under the heavy jets; steam enveloped him. Lathered soap formed clouds of bubbles that washed away the training-hall grime, the sticky salt that clung to his skin like a fragrance. The precious soreness that assured him that he had worked for this. That he had earned it.

How could he admit that to you? The question turned over in his mind like the soap in his hands, slippery and fraught. It should be simple, really; the evidence was laid bare before him, stripped of illusion and ego in the privacy of his mind. The chamber. The Genuflexa. The young man, beautifully bound. The way your body had risen in his mind's eye to bring him undone, not just then but so many times since…

He let the water run through his long hair, raking his fingernails to help it penetrate all the way to his scalp. He liked the way their sharpness felt on the sensitive skin.

… And in counterpoint, the betrayals of his youth. The early memories of hurt and rejection that had sown the seeds of distrust. The expectations of masculinity and dominance, and the familiarity of the long-worn mask.

Loki lifted his chin to shake the heavy, saturated mass of slick curls out behind him, squeezing the last of the water from it. He thought of you; of how much he would like to tend to your sore muscles, to soothe the bruises you would surely have sustained in combat today. To gently run his fingertips over your scalp, and hear you sigh with contentment.

There was only one sensible question, he decided as he stepped from the lustrous shower recess. Steam was clearing to reveal his glistening face in the bathroom mirror. Did he trust you?

He dried his hands, and picked up his cell phone.

Alright, Agent. Prove me wrong.

Almost immediately, he received your reply. The tone of it sent a little shiver down Loki’s spine.

9pm, my apartment. Be punctual.

Before he could interrogate his feelings about it, his phone gave another gentle ping.

Wear your cape.

Tags: @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @infinitystoner @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @thomase1 @kats72 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @tomlugirl @lokisninerealms @missmushroomsstuff @ladyloki3 @fandxmslxt69 @sinsandguilt @sarahscribbles @lunarnights95 @meowmeow-motherfucker @simplyholl @divine-knight-hand @gigglingtiggerv2 @eleniblue @loz-3 @redfoxwritesstuff @wolfsmom1 @beksib @nyx2021 @lokischambermaid

[heartseungs-archive]

going below zero | l.dh

genre ❄ coworker au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, fluff, angst pairings ❄ attorney!donghyuck x attorney!reader word count ❄  10.2k synopsis ❄ Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out. warnings ❄ mentions of alcohol info ❄ merry christmas everyone!!! i hope you enjoy this small present and hava a very warm holiday wherever you are  <3 (it's currently below freezing in seoul and I'm typing this barely half-alive in my hotel room at 1.50am after returning from gocheok sky dome)

You enjoy your job. Mostly.

Besides the long hours, gruelling paperwork, inefficient district judiciary, and shitty coffee, of course. It’s all bearable, especially if you think about the multiple zero digits in your annual salary and the occasional bonus. And of course, you’ve developed a certain fondness for your office, which gives you a lovely view of the palaces and Seoul’s skyline.

“Y/N. Your coffee.” Karina passes you one of two mugs, specifically the one with daisies on it. Everyone working on your floor has made a deliberate effort to get distinct coffee mugs out of disdain for sharing, and you’re all the more grateful for it, especially on days like this. You take a tentative sip, and barely prevent yourself from spitting it out.

Maybe the burnt espresso will be the tipping point for your resignation after all.

“I still can’t believe the tenth floor shares their cups communally. Renjun would flay us if we tried suggesting it,” Karina mutters. She’s dressed in a form-fitting suit today, blouse slightly untucked. It’s been two years since she joined as a paralegal, and you’ll miss having her careful eye to look over your documents. Still, if there’s anyone deserving of becoming an associate, it’s her.

“It’s what happens when you have a floor that’s ninety-per cent men. Especially with people like him.” Your voice narrows to a sharp point, and Karina already knows who you’re talking about.

“I still don’t know what’s up with the both of you,” she muses, and you shrug. “It’s a long story. One that I’ll tell if I’m drunk and tired. Unfortunately, it’s currently-” you steal a glance at your watch, “-nine-thirty on a Monday morning, so wrong time.”

She gives a nod of acceptance, grimacing at the harrowed expression on your face. “Well, if you need anything, I’ll be outside.”

“Wait. Karina,” you call out, and the girl halts, arching an eyebrow at you. “Where’s the case that we were working on last week? The medical negligence one.”

There’s a nervous expression on her face when she takes in your words, and you don’t have a good feeling about what she’s going to say next.

“Karina. What is it.”

She smiles sheepishly, and that’s when you really start getting scared.

“Haechan…said he could take over because you were busy with your current ones and Mr Kim agreed. It happened when you were on leave last Friday. I thought he emailed you.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Karina tries to flash a smile, but it comes out more like a pained cringe as she watches you close your eyes, and then take a deep inhale. You’re deathly quiet, and it’s slightly terrifying. “I’ll be back,” you force out, and she turns, alarmed, as you stride out of the office.

“Where are you going?”

You don’t answer.

Haechan gives it approximately five minutes before you reach his office. It takes three minutes for you to take the lift up, and it’s about twenty metres from the lobby to his personal office.

If you’re particularly enraged, however, your pace might be a little faster, so he accounts for that too.

“Three…two…” he counts down to himself, before the sharp knocks come.

“One.” The last word leaves his mouth with a note of finality, before you’re standing in front of him, eyes alight with indignation. It’s one of his favourite expressions on you. “Lee Haechan!” You shout, and he jumps a little at the loudness of your voice.

“You know, if you’re going to come in before I even allow it, you might as well not bother knocking,” he comments, turning his chair to face you.

“If you hadn’t taken my case, I wouldn’t even need to be here. Medical negligence isn’t even your specialty. Go back to whatever you’re doing in real estate.” You wave a cursory hand in the general direction of his desk to emphasise your point.

“But I think it’s interesting. And Mr Kim said he wants the lawyers at his firm to be versatile.” Haechan looks at you innocently as he says it, but the slight upward tug at the corner of his mouth betrays his real intentions.

If this was anyone else, you might have believed them. But Haechan never genuinely wants to help you, not unless he gets something out of it. Sometimes, he just wants to get on your nerves. It’s like some sort of twisted stress relief therapy for him, finding new ways to torment you.

“Look.” You run a hand through your hair, as if it’ll do something to calm your emotions. “Why are you doing this? Just leave me alone and we can live our perfectly happy lives. Doesn’t that sound good?”

For a second, he looks to be deep in thought, genuinely considering your suggestion. Until a smirk creeps up onto his face, and you mentally sink to your feet in dread.

“But that wouldn’t be any fun,” he says while gazing at you innocently, lips settling into a soft pout, and you feel a sharp tick of annoyance.

You’re going to kill him one day. You’re sure of it.

“So, are you drunk and tired enough yet to tell us what your deal with Haechan is? I’m curious, and so is Ningning.” You narrow your eyes at the two girls sitting opposite you, identical stone-faced expressions resting on their faces. “Was that your entire scheme by dragging me out on a Saturday night?”

Karina grins. “Maybe.”

You look to Seulgi for support, but she only shrugs. “I kind of want to know too.”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You ask, and Ningning shakes her head, pouring another shot of soju for you to down. You take it gratefully, relishing the cold burn as the alcohol makes its way into your system. Where do you start?

“I’ve known Lee Haechan since high school, if you have to know.” There’s a soft murmur of surprise from Karina at that piece of information, but you ignore it and continue.

“We’ve been competing over everything since we were teenagers. Think student council presidency, valedictorian, and best speaker at debate club sessions. When we got to university, it was the dean’s list and travel scholarships.”

Seulgi hums in thought. “And now that you’re both in the same company, it was the promotion to associate.” You nod. She’s quick to catch on, but you’re not finished.

“It wouldn’t be that bad if he was just a competitor. But of course, with my shitty luck, that man just so happens to be the devil’s incarnate,” you mutter venomously, and Ningning raises her hand. “But I think he’s got a good sense of humor.”

When no one responds, she coughs awkwardly. “Sorry.”

She’s not entirely wrong, of course. Haechan’s funny in the way an internet video is, when you see someone getting pranked and laugh at them for not figuring it out sooner. However, it’s a bit harder to find joy in it when you’re on the receiving end.

“Have you considered…being friends? Maybe he’s just trying to get closer to you,” Seulgi suggests, and you shake your head vehemently. Her statement is a bizarre one in itself. If Haechan wanted to make amends, there were hundreds of better, other ways that he could have gone about it, instead of making you want to tear your hair out at every turn.

“Not happening. We’re way past that now,” you decide, and she looks at you doubtfully, as if she wants to say something. Before she can open her mouth, however, Ningning sits up in alarm, temporarily sober as she looks directly at you.

“I overheard Mr Kim saying he was looking to promote one of our senior associates to a partner next year. But doesn’t that mean….”

You stiffen at her words, the grip on your cup growing impossibly tighter. There’s a mental list of the senior associates in your firm that you quickly run through, but they’re all eliminated for various reasons here and there, until you’re left with two options.

You grit your teeth.

“Oh dear,” Karina mutters as she looks at your expression, as if already aware of what’s about to happen. Seulgi instinctively reaches a hand out to comfort you, but you barely register it.

Compared to the trivialities of freshman year, this is vastly different. Being a partner at the firm means a stake in the company, a concrete role and title that will cement your position. It’s every associate’s dream, and something that you’ve wanted since you first walked through the shiny glass doors of your office building. You’ll be damned if Haechan takes it away from you now, when your dreams are so close in reach.

There’s nothing much you can do now, however, besides crossing your fingers and waiting. You’re not sure if anyone’s keeping a tally of the cases that you or Haechan have won so far, but if there is, it’s likely neck-and-neck. Still, you hope your clean record and stellar performance count for something, even if you lack the natural charisma that he’s brimming with.

If you’re lucky enough, Mr Kim might select you for the diversity representation, just to even out the gender statistics in the company’s annual report. It’s not a fair or honourable way to win, but it’s a win nonetheless.

“On the bright side, there’s only a week until our Christmas break. You won’t need to see Haechan in office at all for a month at least.”

Seulgi’s good at saying the right things in the right situations, and you feel a sigh of relief escape you at the thought of being free of his presence for a good amount of time.

Until you realise she’s dead wrong.

At your guttural groan, Ningning looks over in alarm. “Are you sick? You should have listened to me when I told you not to drink so much alcohol-” She’s cut off by Karina placing a gentle hand on her arm, and waiting for you to respond. “Y/N, is there something wrong?”

It’s a few too many moments before your head comes back up, hair dishevelled and expression pale. “Remember when I said Haechan and I went to the same high school?” It’s a rhetorical question. Of course they remember. You swallow thickly, gaze roaming over the three girls in front of you as they patiently wait for you to continue.

“I may have forgotten to mention that our parents have been best friends for the past two decades.”

There was one clear memory of Haechan that you had from your childhood, and it involved crying. A lot of it. You had an irrational fear of sunflowers and subsequently bees, perhaps because there were always swarms of that exact insect around them.

It only took two days of Haechan finding out about this before he snuck sunflower seeds into your lunchbox, and told you that eating them would cause said flower to grow in you. Your teacher had found tears streaming down your cheeks once the bell rang, and Haechan ran off to tell everyone about how easily you had believed him, how gullible you seemed.

The relationship between the both of you never quite seemed to repair properly after that incident, even as your parents made hopeless attempts to make the two of you playmates.

You would have assumed that the animosity between both of you would mellow out once you turned older. After all, it was nothing but a foolish stunt pulled by a mischievous child.

Yet, the awkwardness devolved into competition and mutual dislike, especially when you realised that the both of you were constantly fighting for the same opportunities. And then he became wittier, always saying the right comments to make anger creep up the back of your neck.

Your parents might have saved a lot of effort if they knew the state of things between the both of you now.

“Well, isn’t someone looking cheerful today.” The familiar cadence of his voice grates at your ears. Haechan had been an avid member of the choir in his younger years, and you can still recall him winning district singing competitions. You would enjoy his voice more if it was disembodied and separate from the man himself.

“I rather walk than sit in your car,” you retort, but you know you’re lying through your teeth. Even then, he won’t abandon you, considering how his mother was very firm about the both of you showing up together and giving her regular updates. You wouldn’t put it beyond Mrs Lee to facetime the both of you at any time, just to check.

Haechan’s car is comfortable, and it seems to be the one thing he splurges on, besides his apartment in downtown Seoul. The leather seats are plush behind your back, and there’s a faint lavender smell that lingers inside. You’re not sure why you can recall those exact bits of information, considering you can’t remember the last time he drove you somewhere. Two years ago, he still had an old Toyota Camry, and the both of you would usually just take the train.

There were a few good things about the pandemic, and one of them was getting to work from home. The second was that you didn’t have these yearly trips back with Haechan, established as a tradition after the both of you relocated to Seoul for university.

Still, you’ll endure it, if it means getting home to spend Christmas with your family. The holiday has always evoked a sense of homesickness in you, and it’s likely due to the amount of effort your parents put into celebrating it. They weren’t religious, but they made sure there was always plenty of presents and hot chocolate.

It was fun, even if you were sent over every Christmas morning as an eight-year-old to wish the Lees a merry Christmas and endure Haechan’s teasing.

“I can’t believe you still listen to Michael Jackson.” The song that plays through the speakers is something you haven’t heard in years, but you’d recognize it anywhere.

“It’s good music. I’m not sure why you dislike him so much.”

“I would enjoy his music a lot more if you hadn’t blasted it at two in the morning during finals season,” you say bitterly, and Haechan lets out a low chuckle. The both of you are stuck in traffic, and the silence that settles in the car is painfully awkward. You and Haechan don’t have much to say to each other, besides sharp words, and you’re starting to regret it a little.

You can feel Haechan’s eyes on you when he turns his head, fingers drumming on the wheel. However, you refuse to afford him the pleasure of meeting his gaze, your eyes resolutely fixed on the car in front of you.

His throat bobs slightly, nervously. “Look, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and I rather it not be in silence. Let’s just pretend the company doesn’t exist. Truce?” He asks, and you try not to make the relief too obvious on your face. At your nod, Haechan breaks out into a brilliant smile, one that makes his features irk you less.

He should smile more instead of that smirk that he has all the time, you think. You would prefer it more.

“Now, what song do you want to queue? I’ll let you have music rights for the next three hours.”

The house looks exactly as you remember. Even then, the colours are brighter, more saturated in your eyes, tinted with the unmistakable nostalgia of childhood. You step carefully onto the robin’s egg-blue porch, luggage behind you as you ring the doorbell.

It’s like both your and Haechan’s movements are in sync, likely looking identical from the back.

You had forgotten to mention to the three girls that the two of you happened to be next-door neighbours as well.

There’s the pitter-patter of footsteps against wood before the door flies open, and your mother is in front of you and hugging you tightly. She feels so much smaller than you, so different from the imposing figure of your childhood. There’s weathered lines across her face, but the brightness in her eyes is still identical to your memories.

You smile. “Hey, mom.”

“Look who’s here,” the low timbre of your father’s voice rings out before you see him, and your smile grows inexplicably wider. “How was the trip here? Haechan drove safely, didn’t he? I should buy something for them later. Gas is expensive these days, you know.”

“He was going to make the trip anyways. Besides, doesn’t it save more gas if we travel together?” You question, and your mother rolls her eyes. “I forgot about that mouth of yours. It’s only become worse since you’ve become a lawyer,” she sighs out, but her eyes are full of mirth.

Your luggage is deposited in your room by your father before you can even offer to help, and you realise that your family hasn’t made any effort to redecorate the empty space, instead leaving everything as it is. Some of your vinyls still sit on the shelf, along with photographs and trophies from different competitions. If you dig hard enough, you might be able to find your old clothes as well.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t unpack yet. Help me bring this over to the Lees,” she hands you a cooler bag, and you peer inside to find banchan neatly packed into tupperware and freshly-baked cookies. “Don’t you want to deliver these yourself?” you ask hopefully, but immediately sink back down when she shakes her head. “It’ll be good for Mr and Mrs Lee to see you. Now go.”

It’s a small consolation of sorts that Mrs Lee is the one opening the door when you knock, and Haechan is nowhere to be found.

“I feel like I say this every time I see you, but you’ve grown so much.” The warm smile on her face elicits one from you too, and you wonder why the apple fell so far from the tree. As you go past the hallway, you can’t help but feel like you’re transported back to childhood. The house is as familiar to you as your own, even if most of your time here was spent bickering with him.

Once you reach the kitchen, you unpack the lunchboxes, tiptoeing to reach the fridge drawer. “I think these are good to be refrigerated for two weeks. Where should I put it?”

“Anywhere on the top shelf is fine. Do you want coffee?”

A latte isn’t usually your drink of choice, but you’re grateful for any caffeine hit after the long ride. Along the way, you had decided to take a nap, and Haechan had woken you up by blasting a song in your ear at full volume.

“Mom, did you see my winter coat- Oh, it’s you,” Haechan says when he steps into the kitchen, and you muster a polite smile on your face. Mrs Lee frowns slightly. “That’s no way to speak to our guest. And it’s on the uppermost shelf of your cabinet. Why don’t you walk Y/N out?”

“It’s fine, Mrs Lee, I live right opposite-”

“Sure,” Haechan cuts in nonchalantly, and you widen your eyes at him, a silent question. He deliberately ignores your heavy gaze and loops his arm in yours. “Well, come on. Let’s go.”

“Why are you looking for your winter coat? It’s not that cold yet,” you ask curiously, and Haechan halts in his steps, a puzzled expression on his face.

You’re shifting uncomfortably now, tense as Haechan continues staring at you. “What?”

Until the confusion on his face fades to a certain sort of mischief, and he leans down until his face is inches away from yours. You step back abruptly, putting some distance between the both of you, but the smug smile doesn’t leave Haechan’s face.

“Didn’t they tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“We’re going to a ski resort. You and me.”

There’s a light in Haechan’s eyes as he says it, one that seems to spell death and doom. You’re too stunned to speak, everything tuned out save for his face in front of yours.

At least now you know why your mother stopped you from unpacking your luggage.

There’s something about the airport that makes you feel like you’re dreaming. It’s the hallways that seem to stretch on endlessly, and the way you lose track of time save for the numbers displayed in bright red on the large digital clock.

It’s one of your favourite places in the world. Planes, however, not so much. The dry air, cramped seats, loud noises, and the fact that you’re tens of thousands of feet above solid ground serve no purpose other than making you uneasy. Even though the improvement in Haechan’s and your salaries mean that your families can escape sitting in economy, you still can’t ignore the fact that the only thing saving you from falling to your death is a hunk of floating metal.

“Any drinks for you?” The air stewardess in front of you is bright-eyed, absent of the anxiety swirling in your stomach. “Just apple juice, please,” you mumble, setting the cup down in the holder in front of you. You probably won’t drink it anyways.

When takeoff begins, you try your best to ignore the rumbling of the plane, instead choosing to lean back and close your eyes. The sooner you fall asleep, the better.

Until the plane jerks violently, and your eyelids fling open. You can faintly hear the pilot apologising for the upcoming turbulence, but it barely registers, fading into background noise in favour of your thundering heartbeat. It seems sleep will be far out of reach today.

“Hey, you okay?”

You’re tempted to ignore Haechan, but he doesn’t sound teasing, instead genuinely concerned. You’re quite sure your face is twenty different shades of pale, but having him see you like this brings a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks. “I’m fine,” you force out, and wonder if you can request to change seats. 

It’s been a long time since you last got on a plane, and when you were young, you would be sandwiched between your parents. You’re wishing now that you had insisted on sitting with one of them, but it was obvious that this was some sort of double-date arrangement between your families, with you and Haechan as collateral.

You’re an adult, Y/N. Pull yourself together.

Your knuckles are bone-white from how hard you’re gripping the armrest, and Haechan, perceptive as ever, quickly figures out what’s wrong. “You’re scared of flying, aren’t you?”

You screw your eyes shut, exhaling shakily. “Shut up, Lee. I can’t do this right now.” He falls silent, and you think he might have temporarily retreated from teasing you for the moment.

The feeling of someone’s hand over yours quickly catches your attention, however, and you’re temporarily pulled away from your fear to look down, bewildered. “I used to have a younger cousin who was scared of flying.” He doesn’t offer any other explanation when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

You hate to admit it, but the warmth of his hands provides a welcome respite from your unease. When the plane jolts again, your grip tightens momentarily, and you expect Haechan to have some sort of teasing quip at how easily you jump. Contrary to your expectations, he simply smooths his thumb over your hand, a calming, repetitive motion that makes it easier for you to breathe.

Even when the seatbelt sign flickers off, Haechan doesn’t make any motion to move away. “Feeling better?” He asks, and you nod slowly. There’s a grin on his face at your response, one that is surprisingly genuine.

It takes a few seconds of Haechan staring at you before you cough awkwardly, immediately extricating your palm. It makes you feel slightly foolish, realising that he must have wanted you to let go of your own accord so he wouldn’t feel bad. He almost looks disappointed, but you’re convinced the fear has induced a hallucination of sorts.

You’re feeling fine now, or at least that’s what you think.

Until hours later, when the pilot announces descent, and your heart rate picks back up. Haechan doesn’t wait for you to ask this time, immediately slotting his fingers between yours.

“Thank you. You don’t have to do this,” you say thickly, strangely grateful for the man sitting next to you. Despite his endless teasing, he seems to know how to help at the right times. Maybe Ningning’s right, that he’s not all that bad. You suppose you’ve demonized the boy to an extent, driven by years of childish retorts.

In reality, you don’t hate him as much as you make it out to be. There’s just a feeling of walking on eggshells at his presence, a certain way that Haechan makes you feel off-kilter from never being able to predict what his next actions will be.

“You know, if you just wanted to hold my hand, you could have said so.” Haechan’s words make your cheeks burn, and you whip your head to the side to stare the boy down.

“I take it back. You’re the most infuriating person I know.” His forehead wrinkles slightly at that, and you realise he had not been privy to your previous thoughts. “Take what back?” He asks, and you ignore him. The apple juice is conveniently placed in front of you, and you gulp heavily from it. Anything to avoid telling Haechan what exactly you were thinking.

He moves closer, and you choke slightly at his proximity. At this distance, you can see your wide-eyed expression reflected clearly in his eyes. He scrunches his eyebrows in thought, and you can’t help but think he looks almost…adorable. Until you give yourself a violent kick mentally.

“You said that you wanted to take it back…you don’t think I’m infuriating?” There’s a hopeful glint in his eyes, one that makes your heart stumble at an unfamiliar pace. “Perhaps….even endearing?” He muses, unable to hide his smirk now. You’re lost for words, cheeks painted scarlet as you stare at the boy.

The buzzing of the overhead intercom jolts you out of whatever trance Haechan has put you in, the clicking of seatbelts filtering into your ears. You shove him away lightly, enough to put much-needed distance between the both of you but not enough to wound him. A breath escapes Haechan as he falls back into his seat ungracefully, but his eyes remain fixed on your figure as you hurriedly get up to take your overhead bag.

Until you tiptoe, fingers scrabbling at empty space, and decide that whatever higher powers up there must really have it out for you. The familiar black duffel bag is just out of reach, likely having shifted backwards during the course of the flight. You’re prepared to admit defeat and ask your father to help, when there’s the feeling of someone’s back against yours, warm and solid. You jerk your head around in alarm, only to see Haechan easily grabbing the bag and holding it in front of you.

He’s too close. Much too close for comfort.

“What are you doing?” you demand, but it comes out more as a high-pitched stutter, betraying your nerves. “You seemed to need some help. You know, I didn’t realise how short you were without your heels,” he comments, and you’re left unable to reply, too distracted by the way he’s still pressed close to you. It suddenly feels difficult to get enough oxygen, and your heart is going a mile a minute. There’s an exhale of relief that escapes when he finally moves away to make way for another passenger.

You don’t miss the way his eyes follow you even as you stride quickly down the aisle to join your parents, and a flush creeps at the back of your neck.

This holiday is going to drive you mad.

“So, how’s the trip going? With Y/N, no less,” Renjun asks, unable to hide his grin. Haechan hums in thought, settling on a pillow as he decides on a response. “Not bad. We’re making progress.”

“Progress as in…she’s less interested in homicide and more towards assault?” Haechan genuinely considers it for a second, before he nods in assent. The look on Renjun’s face is a mixture of frustration and bewilderment.

“Lee Haechan, you’re hopeless.” He sits up indignantly at that statement, glaring at Renjun even through the grainy screen. “Honestly, I’ll be surprised if Y/N even reciprocates your feelings. For a successful attorney, you sure are an idiot.”

The lack of faith is disappointing to Haechan, but no matter. Getting you to like him back has been at the top of his wishlist since junior year, and he’s not about to give up now.

The memory of you walking into the club room with your school blouse neatly tucked in and hair tied back still remains fresh in Haechan’s mind. You had been a model student, but not in a way that felt too overbearing. Maybe sometimes you would frown at his bright Converse shoes, or loose tie. But they technically weren’t against school rules, so Haechan continued to tiptoe the fine line between dress code and responsibility as vice-president of Student Council.

Originally, the boy was happy enough to be the chairperson of the debate club, until Jaemin, his labmate, had very cleverly pointed out that the both of you would get to head the annual prom together.

And so he decided to campaign, effectively providing one of the most stressful experiences of your high school years.

Those were some of the best memories of his final year, sitting in the classroom with you and ironing out details for hours. It was obviously something that you were passionate about, giving up so many sleepless nights just to research the exact decorations.

It was one of the things he liked most about you, that spark in your gaze when you saw something you liked, or fixed your mind on something. On occasion, it would appear when he teased you, though it was often accompanied by anger. Still, he craved it. Haechan liked having your eyes on him, even if they were narrowed with exasperation.

And when finals had ended, the invisible heavy burden on your shoulders had seemed to lift, and you laughed easier, smiled more. Even when he pestered you, there would only be an indulgent smile on your face. Prom was barely a week away, and he thought that would be it. That he would ask you to be his date, and maybe, finally you’d see him in a new light, beyond the boy who always seemed to be competing with you.

And then you disappeared from school without any information whatsoever, right up until the day itself. He had even asked Ryujin, the secretary of student council. Everyone was clueless.

The next time Haechan saw you was in the university lecture hall, and his shoulders had sunk in relief at the sight of your face.

Now, seven years later, Haechan was still playing a game of catch-and-toss for your heart, but he didn’t mind.

The boy had been feigning an expression of nonchalance when he offered his hand to you in the plane, but when you didn’t pull away, Haechan was quite convinced that his heart was going to leap out of his chest.

He’s not sure if you’ll let him hold your hand again, but a man can dream. The doorbell rings then, jolting Haechan out of his thoughts. “Give me a second, Jun,” he mutters as he sets the phone down, slippers thudding softly against the carpeted floor.

When he flings the door open, the last person he’s expecting to see is the one that’s been taking up his thoughts.

You’re swamped in an oversize hoodie and leggings, hair dishevelled and reading glasses balanced on the tip of your nose. It’s obvious you’ve woken up recently, and he steals a glance at the clock before focusing back on you.

You look different. But a good different.

“Weren’t you going down with them to the village?” He asks, and you smile sheepishly. “Overslept.”

The ski resort the both of you were in was located high up in the mountains, and there was a shuttle bus going down to the winter village twice a day. Your parents had suggested going down for dinner, but Haechan had work to clear up and decided to stay back.

It seems fate has a funny way of leaving the two of you together, Haechan thinks as he looks at you, still slightly drowsy. “Wanna go get dinner?” There’s an involuntary grumble of your stomach at his words, and Haechan chuckles slightly. He presses the end call button without a second thought, before grabbing his leather jacket.

“Come on, let’s go.”

He tries to hold back his smile when he feels your footsteps behind his.

The first thing you realise is that the restaurant is full of couples. You’ve only seen one family so far, the rest of the patrons seating in tables of two. You chalk it down to pure coincidence, even as the waiter hands you a menu that’s awfully thin.

“I’m Jisung, and I’ll be your server for today. Our menu is a four-course set with seasonal ingredients designed for couples. Let me know whenever you’re ready to order.” The boy standing in front of your table looks awfully young to be working at a fine-dining establishment, but his voice is level as he arranges the silverware.

You suck in a nervous breath when you notice that the price isn’t even printed on the menu. It means that it’s expensive, and you’re not sure you want to know how much. You’re not one to splurge unnecessarily. “The food better be good,” you mumble, not noticing the way Haechan smiles softly at your comment.

“I’ll cover the bill,” he suggests, and at the resistance in your eyes, Haechan waves a dismissing hand. “I picked it anyways.” You don’t protest further.

Despite the steep price, you can’t help but admire the high ceilings of the restaurant, black marble walls offset by tasteful streaks of gold.

“Y/N.” At the mention of your name, your attention is pulled back to the man sitting opposite you. In the warm glow of the candlelight, his features are rounder, more delicate, and his hair somehow darker. It leaves you breathless, and you’re not sure if it’s the atmosphere around you, or the way that you’ve been feeling stranger and stranger around Haechan lately. Your eyes flit momentarily to the rings adorning his fingers, the ones that you’re used to seeing every day.

If there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with Haechan might just be the opposite. Having to interact in close proximity daily for the past two weeks has made him more tolerable somehow, an acquaintance rather than a nemesis. He seems to have lightened up on the taunts as well, instead replacing them with sarcastic quips that aren’t directed at you and that elicit a laugh more often than not.

It reminds you of senior year, when the both of you had been working so closely for the student council. Haechan had been your partner and your equal then, his competition more of a motivation than a threat. But university had been a rat race with thousands of other brilliant minds that sought to outdo and outlearn, so individualistic that the both of you never did quite talk about the almost-friendship that had formed.

“I assume you know about Mr Kim’s intentions to promote one of us to partner next year,” you start, unsure of what else to say. It’s been something that presses at the back of your mind, even as you go for hot chocolate runs with Haechan and sit in the lounge room together to clear last-minute emails. “I hope you know that I’m not intending to give up.”

Haechan smiles. “I wouldn't expect anything less.”

“But…” you trail off slightly, and he leans forward, eyes curious. You decide just to bite the bullet, not leaving any room to reconsider.

“I think you’re good at what you do. And I think it would be easier for us to work together in the future if we weren’t constantly at each other’s necks.” Your voice gradually gets softer as you continue, but Haechan hears every word. He notices you worrying your lip and the faint set of your eyebrows, and realises that you’re nervous. It’s no secret that he finds certain habits of yours endearing, but this expression on you might be one of his favourites.

“Well, height-wise, you’re still at my neck.”

“You-”

“Kidding. So we’re friends now?” He has to bite back a laugh at your glare. You’re still so easy to rile up. “We can be anything you want to be,” you say nonchalantly.

Haechan knows that you don’t mean that literally, but he thinks about the possibilities anyways.

He wants to say more when Jisung appears, a bottle of red wine grasped in his hands. You look up from your bowl, confused. “Oh, we didn’t order red wine.”

At your protest, however, the boy smiles. “It’s on the house. Are the both of you celebrating anything? An anniversary or a birthday perhaps,” he suggests, and you shake your head. “We’re not…we’re not a couple.” You’re unsure why you stumble over your words, but Haechan seems to find it amusing from the way he’s coughing politely into his napkin.

Jisung blinks awkwardly, and you blink back. “Apologies for assuming. Enjoy your dinner,” he replies after a moment too long, rushing off after filling both of your glasses.

“I think we scared him off,” you say guiltily, and Haechan snickers. “He’ll be fine. To be fair, this is a dinner set for couples.”

“But we look nothing like a couple,” you interject, and there’s a flash of doubt that crosses Haechan’s face, before he quickly schools it into nothing. He takes a large gulp of the wine, before grinning at you.

“Of course. I’m too good-looking.”

It’s a blatant lie, of course. Haechan thinks you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen, even when you had your thick-rimmed glasses in second grade and the most obnoxious blue braces. He’ll never have the courage to admit that, however, and Haechan’s starting to fear that his feelings are going to go unspoken forever.

This time, you manage to not oversleep.

The alarm goes off two hours before dinner, reminding you that it’s time to get ready. Your presents are already prepared at the corner of the bed and neatly wrapped, even though you know that your parents aren’t the kind to require excessive formality, and neither are Mr and Mrs Lee. You’re not sure about Haechan, if he’s remembered to prepare gifts. When you asked him at breakfast, he had evaded the question, which meant that he either had something prepared or was too embarrassed to admit that he had forgotten.

You’ve been waiting to wear this dress for a long time, a blush pink satin that’s pretty but comfortable enough for you to move around in. It’s been a long time since you’ve had the luxury of taking your time to get ready, considering you’re always cutting it close to sneak in extra sleep before work.

Despite your early preparations, however, the clock seems to tick much too fast. You’re tugging on your heels when there’s a sharp knock at the door. “Coming!” you shout, giving yourself one last look in the mirror before you pull the handle open.

“Oh, wow. You look…nice,” you say absentmindedly, only realising the words are too far gone to take back when a glimmer of satisfaction shows up on Haechan’s face. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing a suit- attorneys practically live in a blazer and slacks, after all- but this one is all-black, the top two buttons of his blouse unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones. It makes his features even sharper, fabric contrasted against his warm, honey-toned skin.

You try not to think about how it’s the same exact material as your dress, and that people- namely your parents, would have assumed the both of you planned it beforehand.

Haechan’s appraising gaze makes warmth creep up your neck, and you shift from foot to foot, waiting for him to say something. Anything. “You clean up pretty well too. Ready for dinner?”

The both of you are friends, Y/N. Friends can compliment each other, you assure yourself, even as your pulse flutters uncontrollably at his words. He offers an arm out to you like a perfect gentleman, and you exhale shakily through your nose.

This dinner may be more difficult that you expect.

The both of you are guided to your table by a different waiter this time, Jisung nowhere in sight. Thankfully, there’s a much wider menu to choose from now, and your parents are splitting, offering a respite to Haechan’s wallet.

“Oh, I wanted to pass you your present first,” you say, retrieving the gift and placing it in front of Haechan. There’s excitement bubbling in your chest as you watch him arch an eyebrow curiously. “Open it,” you encourage, and he lifts up the cover, a surprised laugh escaping him.

“Where did you get this?” He asks, and you crinkle your forehead slightly. “I ordered it online, and I was scared it wouldn’t get delivered in time because of the snowstorm. Take it as a present from one vinyl collector to another.” Haechan breaks out into a brilliant grin at your words, one that illuminates his entire face. The corners of his mouth quirk up, however, when he places a velvet box on the table.

“You actually remembered to get a present? From your reaction at breakfast today, I thought…”

“You think too lowly of me,” he complains, poking his tongue into his cheek. Your eyes are bright, however, as you take the box from him, only realising that it’s velvet once you smooth your fingers over it. “This isn’t something scary, is it?” You question doubtfully, and he shrugs.

“You gave me fake insects half a decade ago, so forgive me if I’m not entirely trusting-” you fall silent when the box clicks open, revealing a pearl choker that you immediately recognize.

“Haechan, this-”

He barely reacts to your wide-mouthed shock. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.” The wish is sincere, and the way he says it makes your heart stretch just a little wider.

You can’t believe he remembers.

For prom, you had suggested a vintage 1980s theme, and Haechan had seen the Vivienne Westwood necklace sitting in your online cart along with the decorations. You never did purchase it because of the hefty price tag, and it was gradually forgotten.

Seeing the three rows of pearls in front of you now, however, brings on a wave of nostalgia.

“You should try it on. It matches nicely with your dress.” he offers, and you pick up the necklace from where it’s resting, hands shaking slightly as you close the clasp around your neck. “How does it look?” you ask, swallowing nervously as you focus back on Haechan, who has an unreadable expression on his face.

“Beautiful,” he mutters softly, but his eyes don’t dart down to your neck at all. You want to think that he’s lying. However, the way his eyes remain transfixed on your face as he says it has your pulse fluttering wildly.

There’s a lump in your throat as you fiddle with the necklace, feeling the cold of the pearls against your skin.

“I wanted to give it to you on the night of prom,” Haechan says then, a silent question in his eyes. The implication behind his words is heavy, considering that all you remember having with Haechan in senior year was a rivalry-turned-tentative-friendship by necessity.

Instead of the anger you expect it to provoke, the idea of him being the one fills you with a  certain nerve-wracking thrill, like the kind you get just before a rollercoaster drops.

“I wanted to go, you know. But something happened with my family, and I-”

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’re still here now, aren’t we?”

His question isn’t one that you need to reply to, because you know the answer.

Haechan is one of the people you know best in this world, besides your family. He thinks you’re a little too uptight sometimes, but you find him too aloof. That you’re not particularly extroverted, preferring to stick to a close circle of friends, while Haechan can talk to almost anyone and everyone. Until you forced yourself to make it to parties and meetings in order to beat him out in garnering votes from the student body. And then gradually, it became easier.

He’s always pushed you out of your comfort zone effortlessly, and you hate to admit it, but you wouldn’t have done this much if he hadn’t been right in step behind you.

In the end, the both of you boiled down to one similarity- pure ambition, the kind that pushed you to endure long hours and sleepless nights in order to get what you wanted.

Currently, the both of you are teetering on the edge of an invisible precipice, steps away from tumbling into wildly unfamiliar territory. And what terrifies you the most is that you don’t particularly seem to mind the idea of falling. Haechan has always been able to provoke reactions so easily from you, split-second impulsivities that make you lose control of your emotions.

You and him are not polar opposites, as much as you would like to think. Haechan just covers his with a veneer of casual confidence, while you would rather not be in the spotlight unless necessary.

“Haechan, if-” you start, and the look in his eyes when he hears you speak is so hopeful, so full of anticipation that it causes you to stop abruptly. He’s beautiful, you think. The slant of his cheekbones, the angle of his jaw- it’s no secret that Haechan is attractive by most conventional standards, but it’s the first time he’s rendering you speechless. You’ve never really been able to truly look at him, too focused on the imminent threat that his presence seemed to signify.

And now that it’s gone, you’re genuinely seeing Haechan for what he is. Your equal, and someone you’re hopelessly attracted to, for good reason.

Until the jolt of a chair yanks you out of whatever trance-like state you’re in, and you whip your head around to see Haechan’s father, along with the rest of your families.

“Sorry for the wait. What were you young people talking about?” He asks, and your mind blanks for a second.

How are you supposed to tell him that you think you might have feelings for his son, after fighting tooth-and-nail with him all these years?

You make eye contact with Haechan then, and there’s a silent promise in his gaze. The both of you will talk about whatever it is between you eventually. For now, you’re here to celebrate with the people you love most in the world.

Lee Haechan included, you suppose.

Hangovers are not a good look on Haechan.

At least, that’s his first thought when he wakes up, head heavy and throat dry. But he’s an adult now, and that means taking responsibility for his not-so-sober decisions.

By the time he takes a cold shower and brushes his teeth, it feels like some semblance of life has returned to him, and he uses the thought of breakfast as motivation to get dressed and head down. It’s a petty sort of consolation that everyone else will probably be feeling worse than him, you included.

He makes a direct beeline for the hot food, piling a plate with bacon and eggs. And then he reaches the drink section, pausing for a second. “What did she say she liked again?” he mutters, staring at the juices with two cups in hand.

When he reaches the table, there are soft ‘good mornings’ from everyone, and Haechan takes the seat opposite yours, smiling brightly. “Here. I wasn’t sure which one you might want, so I got both,” he says, setting the drinks down in front of you. One’s a cappuccino, and the other cranberry juice.

You blink tiredly, looking up at him in mild surprise. “Thank you,” you mumble softly, before returning to your food.

He frowns. Haechan’s seen you hungover before, and it’s usually not like this. And he’s quite sure you didn’t drink as much as him, considering you weren’t the hugest fan of alcohol. It would be wiser for Haechan to leave you alone to rest- after all, you did say thank you, so surely nothing’s wrong.

However, he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t get to the bottom of things.

“Are you feeling unwell? There’s hangover medicine in my luggage, I can pass you some-”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“How about ramen? We can make some later,” he prompts, watching your expression carefully. You shake your head, and Haechan tries not to look too shocked.

“But it’s ramen,” he continues, expectation evident in his gaze. Haechan knows you. You would never turn down an offer of your favourite food.

“I’ll pass this time,” you reply, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. He falls silent, watching as you pick at the rest of your food.

When you stand up, the sound of the chair scraping seems a little bit too sharp. “I’ll head back first. I forgot about something,” you explain, turning on your heel. Haechan’s eyes dart to the untouched drinks, before they meet your mother’s gaze. He wipes the corner of his mouth hastily with the napkin, before rising as well. “I’ll go find Y/N,” he declares.

Thankfully, the hotel isn’t too crowded at this time, and he spots you just in time. When Haechan skids to a stop in front of you, your hands are around your jacket, pulling it tight around you.

“Hey,” he greets, breathless. You look taken aback, and Haechan runs a hand through his hair, pausing to collect his thoughts. “Are you…I might just be stupid, but are you okay? You seemed a little off at breakfast,” he points out, watching as the emotions on your face change from shock to doubt to…hurt?

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” You ask, a tremor in your voice as you peer at the boy.

Haechan frantically scans through his memories, heart dropping when it comes up empty. He was talking to his father about football, and then your mother brought up memories from when the both of you were in elementary, causing everyone at the table to laugh.

Anything that happened after the fourth cocktail was a blur.

He pulls himself out of his thoughts to focus on you, shaking his head. Haechan’s eyes are wide as he stares at you. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he mutters, watching as you nibble on your lip nervously, before sighing. “Come with me,” you instruct, before grabbing Haechan’s wrist and dragging him to a quieter part of the lobby.

You’re standing in front of him, fiddling with your fingers, and Haechan can tell you’re thinking of what to say. “If I did something stupid, you can tell me,” he assures, and the glance you give him is disbelieving. However, the dark clouds in your expression have cleared a little.

“No, it wasn’t stupid, I just have no idea if it was some sort of joke or if you meant it-” you trail off, looking distraught. Haechan becomes alert at the mention of that, his heartbeat picking up slightly. “Y/N, what did I say?”

You’re never one to beat about the bush, and the way you keep hesitating has him nervous.

“You said you liked me,” you finally answer, and Haechan’s world stops.

The memories flood back into his brain a few moments too late. Your parents choosing to rest early, Haechan saying he wanted to stay on a little more-

Oh God.

“It’s three am, Donghyuck. You’re going to wake everyone up,” you scolded, but there was a grin on your face. He had been singing some ridiculous rendition of a carol at top volume, causing you to look away, embarrassed. The staff working the graveyard shift had barely even batted an eye at his antics.

“Huh. You’ve never called me Donghyuck before,” Haechan noticed, blinking slowly. The alcohol was really getting to his brain now, making it foggy. It’s nice, having you call him a name that’s solely reserved for close friends and family. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to,” you say, looking caught.

“Of course you can. We’re close.” Haechan tries not to coo when he sees your cheeks warm slightly, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze, instead focusing on getting to the correct hotel room.

Just as you pull out the keycard, you feel someone come up right next to you, and you look up in alarm. “Is something wrong?” Haechan shakes his head, leaning down towards you. He’s not sure whether you’re one for physical affection, but he can’t help himself when he pinches your cheeks gently.

“Hae- Donghyuck, what are you doing?” You’re confused at his sudden movements, but you don’t pull away, even as he comes closer. Haechan blinks slowly, your face swimming in and out of his vision.

“You’re adorable, you know that? Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you. But you’re also mean to me sometimes,” Haechan whines out, and you’re equal parts flustered and amused by him. “You- you really need to get to bed,” you say once you’ve collected your thoughts, pushing him in the direction of his room.

He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, but there are words fighting to escape, and Haechan rather not think about the consequences when he has you in front of him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. You look pretty like this, and you’ve never let him get this close to you before.

It makes him brave.

Which is why he presses his feet into the carpet to prevent himself from moving, turning around sharply to face you again. He’s determined now, looking at you with a certain sharpness in his eyes that makes your pulse unsteady.

“I like you, Y/N. A lot. I’ve liked you for eight years, and I thought you would figure it out by now, or at least look my way, but-” he hiccups slightly, “you haven’t. Is it because I’m annoying?”

Haechan doesn’t remember what your answer was to that question because he might have fallen asleep on his feet then, and quite frankly, he’s terrified to find out.

“Oh.”

The statement makes it obvious that he remembers everything now, and your eyes widen in incredulity. “Is that all you have to say?” you ask, and Haechan feels like he’s at a crossroads.

Renjun would definitely laugh at him for this.

But Renjun would also tell him to be honest, considering the secret is already out. It’ll be awkward no matter what he does.

Haechan might as well give it a shot. He was too scared in senior year, but he’s less fearful now.

“I wasn’t joking,” he starts, swallowing nervously before looking at you.

“I liked you in junior year, so much that I joined the student council for you. And since then, I’ve just been waiting, and waiting, but I’m not sure how much longer I can go-”

Haechan gets cut off when the collar of his hoodie is jerked forward, allowing him to finally meet your height. There’s a look of exasperation on your face, and Haechan’s not entirely sure what that means in the context of him confessing his feelings. Maybe you’ve decided you’ve had enough of him, and you’re going to leave his dead body to be found once the snow melts.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

There’s relief that fills him at the lack of murderous intent in your voice, but he doesn't get a chance to respond before you’re tiptoeing and closing the distance between the both of you.

It takes Haechan a few moments too long to register that you’re kissing him before he reciprocates in equal measure. He feels like his heart might burst from the way you’re holding onto him, as if the both of you are the only ones existing at this moment.

When you finally let go of his hoodie, the plain disappointment on Haechan’s face causes you to let out a giggle.

He shakes his head slightly in an attempt to clear it, before looking at you. “Can we do that again?” His question earns him a swat on the back, but you don’t resist when Haechan loops his arms around your waist.

It’s only his second time kissing you, but Haechan’s quite sure there aren’t many feelings that can compare to this.

He might just get hooked on it.

“I can’t believe the holiday’s over,” you sigh, sinking into the armchair. Your luggage is next to you, Haechan looking down with a bemused expression on his face. “Doesn’t this happen every year? Just wait another three hundred and sixty-five days.”

From where you’re seated, you’re not able to reach Haechan’s waist, so you settle for hitting him on the thigh. He looks at you indignantly, but whatever retort he has dies on his tongue when your father calls for the both of you to get into the car.

It’s only when the both of you are comfortably seated at the very back, that Haechan leans over, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You’re not going to get scared on the plane again, are you?” He asks, and you narrow your eyes.

As much as he jokes about it, Haechan was also the one who offered his hand to you on the flight here. “Whatever,” you mutter. “Just hold my hand now.”

You don’t give Haechan time to interject before you intertwine his fingers with yours, missing the way a blush settles at the back of his neck. He forgets that you’re occasionally imbued with bursts of confidence, allowing you to act in ways that have his heart thundering in his chest.

When he finally looks over again, you’re leaning against the side, appreciating the scenery that drifts by. A smile makes its way onto his face subconsciously, and Haechan’s grip on your hand grows imperceptibly tighter.

You’re the best Christmas present he could have asked for.

[holdmytesseract]

Hi beautiful! I have a request!

Loki helping your through a high pain day! I have chronic pain and it would be great

Personal Painkiller

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: When you have a high pain day, Loki knows exactly how to comfort you.

Warnings: chronic pain, fluff, liiiittle bit of thirst

Word Count: 1,6k

a/n: My friend... Again, I'm so sorry you have to go through this pain. 🥺 I hope that I get this story right and especially that you like it. 💚

Also, have this quite sexy black suit Loki gif.

Tags |: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @asgards-princess-of-mischief @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @lou12346789

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

You already felt it when your feet touched the carpeted floor of your bedroom... The dull ache in your left hip. Oh great, you thought. It's not enough that today is Monday and it's raining pitchforks outside, no... The osteoarthritis had to kick in, too.

You sighed and got up with a wince. After stretching your muscles a bit, you made your way to the bathroom - quietly, not to wake your boyfriend, who was sleeping peacefully on the left side of the bed; hands buried underneath his pillow and breath quiet and steady.

The way to the bathroom already turned out to be a challenge. You groaned softly as you sat down on the toilet; burying your face in your hands and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Today wasn't a good pain day.

It took you longer than usual to get dressed. Sure, it was a rainy Monday morning, six o'clock and you were without a doubt, tired - but the pain definitely didn't make it easier for you.

After getting through your morning routine, you had a few Lucky Charms for breakfast, packed in more pain killers in your bag than usual and then left the Avengers compound in order to get to work.

Working as a retail saleswoman was great, really. You loved your job. You loved the customer contact and everything else that came with it. Sure, it could get stressful from time to time, but you had a great boss and wonderful colleagues who made up for this.

You had early shift this week - meaning, a lot of groceries and other products the store was selling, which got through the arrival had to be checked and stowed away. That was, hands down, one of your favourite tasks - but not today. Today, it was rather torture. All the work your legs, back and hips had to do wasn't appreciated by your osteoarthritis. Normally, it wasn't a problem and you got along quite well, but when you had a high pain day it was awful - and this Monday was such a day...

So you went to ask one of your other colleagues - Benji, to switch. He understood, of course and was more than willing to let you cash, while he joined Alex. "Thanks, Ben." The blonde man smiled. "No probs. I hope you'll feel better, now that you can sit." "I hope so, too." "Fingers crossed!" Benji shouted while walking away.

"Hey, Y/N, you good?" Your shift buddy Alex asked, while ripping open another big package, which was filled to the brim with cheese. You shifted; trying to ease the pain by moving. "Not really..." Alex's brows furrowed, as she gave you a compassionate look. "High pain day?" "Yeps." You scrunched your nose as your hip told you that moving wasn't the solution either. "Like... Really high pain day. I feel like I can barely move." "Oh no... I'm sorry. Did you already take your pain meds?" You nodded. "Already took two..." "Oh fuck..."

You worked on for another ten minutes, but it just seems to get worse. Sure, the pain killers weren't probably kicking in yet, but nevertheless... It was not manageable. "Alex, do you mind if I try to switch with Benji? See if cashier likes my hip more?" Your buddy nodded. "Sure thing, Y/N/N. I hope it helps..." "Me too..."

Your colleagues good wishes unfortunately didn't work. The seating position was okay and welcomed for a little while; the pain ebbing away a bit, but after about and hour the dull ache came back full force.

So bad, that you weren't able to work any longer.

You smiled; trying to hide the pain. "Thanks."

Therefore, you spoke with your shift superintendent Diane and she sent you home. She knew of your illness and was very understanding and cooperative.

"Thanks, D. I promise I'm trying to go to work tomorrow. I know we have a lot of stuff to do and-" Your boss interrupted you immediately; lifting a hand. "Y/N... Please. You know I understand. Rest today, see if it is better again tomorrow and if yes, that's great and I'm happy to see you here - but if its not, don't worry. We'll make this a few days without you."

Diane smiled; gave you a nod and home you went.

The ride with the subway unfortunately made it worse. You had to stand, which stressed your legs and hips even more. It was honestly a blessing, when you saw the Avengers compound in distance. Almost there, almost there.

The moment the main door shut close behind you, you were utterly relieved. All you wanted to do, was curl up in bed now, with a nice cup of tea - and preferably sleep, so your brain didn't have to remember you every minute, that your hip was aching.

You slipped off your shoes and jacket, threw your keys on the little shelf beside the door and turned to walk the short hallway to the bathroom. But when you turned the corner, you collided with something firm, yet soft. You gasped - out of shock and pain.

"Darling?!" Two strong arms caught you from falling, so powerful was the impact. Loki. "Oh norns, apologies! Are you okay?" His concerned oceanic blue eyes wandered over your body; checking if the collision did any harm to you. But then his brows furrowed softly. "Why are you already back home?"

Only a few moments later, you felt the soft, comfy bedsheets of your bed underneath you. Loki gently let you down, before he worked on tucking you in. "B-But, sweetie, I-I'm still wearing my street wear." You mumbled in between sobs. The god just smiled at you lovingly, snapped his fingers and caused a green shimmer to run over your body; changing you into the most comfortable, fluffiest pyjamas you possessed.

At this question, you couldn't hold back your tears anymore. It was just a little bit too much. The pain, the frustration, that you had to quit work for today - everything.

"H-High pain day," was all you managed to say, before tears escaped the corners of your eyes. Loki reacted within seconds. He knew exactly what was going on and what he had to do. Without another word, he swept you gently off your feet and carried you bridal style towards your bedroom. That was at least what you anticipated, because your vision was blurry with tears. You clung to your boyfriend; wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head against his black shirt covered chest.

Seconds later, you felt his soft lips press a lingering kiss against your forehead. "I'm so sorry your osteoarthritis is treating you bad again, my love. I'm going to take care of you." He whispered against your skin in a smooth, deep voice, which gave you the feeling of being utterly loved and protected.

"Tea, darling?" You nodded; trying to give him a smile. He knew exactly what you needed on such a day. "P-Please..." "Of course." He said; still smiling softly. "Did you already take some of your pain meds?" You gave him another nod. "Good girl." He leaned down to press another sweet, gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? Try to get comfortable and relax." "O-Okay."

While you tried to get as comfortable as somehow possible, Loki made you a cup of tea; returning with it only a few minutes later.

"There you go, my love." The god gave you the mug carefully and breathed another kiss on your forehead, "Thank you." before he started to unbutton his black shirt.

Loki was about to roll his black slacks down his legs, when you suddenly remembered something. As if struck by lightning, you quickly took a look at your alarm clock; standing on your bedside table. "Sweetie, don't you have a meeting in, um... Now? Go, get dressed again! You have to leave, unless you'll be late!"

You just took a sip of the tea, as you watched him undress with wide eyes. "U-Uh, sweetie, w-what are you doing?" A low chuckle rumbled through your boyfriend's chest. "What does is look like, angel?"

Blinking - and trying to not get lost in the delicate movements of his fingers undoing the little buttons, you watched how the fabric slipped off his shoulders; muscles bulging. "U-Um, I know, but..." You swallowed hard; taking another sip of the tea and almost burning yourself.

Your boyfriend only shook his head; smiling and kicked the suit trousers off his legs, before throwing them on the chair standing in the corner of the bedroom.

"B-But Steve hates it when you're missing out a team meeting..." He shrugged his shoulders, rounded the bed and slipped underneath the covers beside you. "So? You are way more important than Roger's unnecessary team meetings." "But-" "Ah.Ah. No buts, darling." Loki said; wrapping you up his arms; spooning you. "I'll stay with you. I want to help you as best as I can through this. Screw this meeting."

Your heart fluttered at his words. You couldn't help but to lean into his embrace; cuddling close. "Thank you, love." He nuzzled the crook of your neck; inhaling your scent. "No need to thank me. I am doing this, because I love you." Butterflies ran wild within your belly. "I love you, too."

The rest of the day was spent with cuddling, listening to the rain drum against the window panes and even more cuddling. He made you as much tea as you desired and even tried to ease the pain with his seidr - which really helped a bit.

In conclusion, Loki was the best, doting boyfriend you ever had.

[moralesmilesanhour]

idk if this has been done before but Margo braiding Miles' hair? it seems basic but I feel like it would be super cute

thank you <333

Thanks for requesting! <3

No warnings except miles being a #gamer and the fact that I did not proofread this

"Come on, I could finish it in like, thirty minutes!"

"Yeah, after ripping all my hair out in the process."

Miles didn't take his eyes off of his monitor as Margo stood eagerly in the door frame, a clear makeup bag of hair supplies in her arms. The room was dim, the blinds having been shut to avoid any glare on the screen.

Miles wouldn't budge the first five times, but she'd get him today.

He sat with his knees pulled up to his chin in an old but sturdy leather swivel chair. Certainly not a traditional 'gaming chair', but he called it that.

"I'm real gentle, I promise!"

"I've seen you do your own braids,"

Miles executed a winning combo on his controller.

"and I told you I want no parts. Pun intended."

Margo pursed her lips, and thought for a moment.

"You still looking for a copy of 'Dandadan'?"

The boy paused the game, and gave her a sideways look.

"How did you know that?"

She shrugged, "Context clues. But that's not important. I can let you borrow mine--"

Miles lit up. "Really--?"

"--If you let me do your hair. Capiche?"

He paused, glancing at the sharp rat tail comb sitting in Margo's bag. Miles had blown most of his allowance for this week at Game Stop, so any new manga purchases would have to wait until Monday. Unless...

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face.

"Fine."

Miles came to regret this decision as he sat in front of the living room couch between Margo's knees, wincing at every tug and pull.

"Is this the last section--ow!"

"Stop moving," Margo waved her wide-toothed comb around threateningly like a weapon. "You almost done, anyway. See?"

She put down the comb and grabbed a small mirror for him to look into. Save for a small tuft of un-braided hair, his entire head had been neatly cornrowed and shone with grease. There were about four total, and it had only been twenty-ish minutes or so.

After ten minutes more of pain and accusations of 'tender-headed-ness', Margo was finally done.

"You look so cute!" she chirped, clapping her hands together. "I'mma go wash my hands."

Miles rolled his shoulders and reached for the mirror to assess Margo's work. The braids tugged at his scalp as he turned his head at different angles, trying to get used to the look. His brows furrowed.

Miles' hair had stayed in more or less an afro since he could walk, with the exception of his mother's only attempt to sit him down and braid it when he was six.

...It did not go well.

The mass of hair became almost a part of his face. The cornrows made it feel like half of it was now missing. Weird stuff.

"D'you like it?" Margo asked, having emerged from the bathroom.

"It'll have to grow on me. I only did this for the free manga, remember?"

Margo's eyes widened, as if she just remembered something.

Very matter-of-factly, she said, "Oh, I lied about that."

"...What?"

Miles' face fell immediately as she knelt down and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"But you'll forgive me, right? I made you look cooler!"

Margo pulled him into a tight bear hug. He rolled his eyes.

"You might be right, but I'm gonna get you back for that. Better keep a close eye on...what's her name? Kimi?"

"Kuromi, dumbass," she picked up the comb from before and gently smacked him with it. "And don't touch my figurines. You won't walk outta my room alive."

"Count your days, man."

[honeysorwell]

Two hearts can fix everything 

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x fem!Reader 

Word Count: 1,3k

Tag list: @paulsonix​​ @d14n4ol​​ @harknspet​ @strawberryshorttcakkee and if any of you want to be added just let me know!

Summary: Wilhemina Venable. A strange name, but one that has never caused a stir in the redhead's life. However, when a new coffee shop opens near Kineros Robotics, her unusual name is what brings Wilhemina and Y/N together. Charmed by Y/N's sweet smile, Wilhemina doesn't have the courage to correct the barista when she spells her name wrong every time the redhead orders a coffee and, as time goes by, a feeling grows in Wilhemina's heart and she is tempted to almost add an I and an L to her register.

But one day, this little misunderstanding has to end.

A/N: Hello! i'm back with something new! 

fuck… I miss good fanfiction, so I got inspired and finally fell ok with writing again for this social network after all this time, and nothing better than writing about this pretty redhead who lives in our hearts... 

I have in mind five chapters to this fanfic (to be really specific), but if you all like this I can extend the fanfic to 7 or 8 chapters, just like I did with (a very unprofessional) game changer . 

As I said last time, English is not my first language so something might sound strange, but as always, I did my best.

Anyway this is basically a coffee shop au (mix w 5 times +1) were the cute barista keeps mispelling the other persons name but it's been too long now so the person don't even know how to tell them that without it being 100% awkward BUT happy ending included! And they are cute!! 

Enjoy!

Synopsis of the story + Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Chapter 1

The first time that it happened, Wilhemina was supposed to go home after a really long day of work, because she couldn't be more irritated on a Monday. Jeff and Mutt started the week smelling like cheap booze and both extremely tipsy, stumbling between the rooms of Kineros Robotics while laughing for no reason at all. Even though the redhead knows that their brains are absolutely useless for anything, she still finds herself getting irritated by their lack of professionalism. And this irritability gives her a headache right away.

The redhead took an antibiotic for the pain, even though her back wasn't bothering her, silently and uselessly wishing that the relaxing medicinal effect would be directed at the throbbing pain in the middle of her forehead. Her primary instinct is to simply get into her car and go home, but as she leaves the building where she works, a sign shines in the sunset across the street and consequently catches Wilhemina's attention.

The sign had been ready for a few days now, full of green plants and eye-catching flowers to the point that the redhead believed it was a flower shop. But now it is clear, thanks to the colorful and festive letters that basically scream “Gardenhouse Coffee”, that it is a coffee shop.

And the redhead simply knows that she will not like it there.

Wilhemina can see, just through the ornate glass of the colored windows, that this is not the kind of place she frequents. It is a mix of shades of green, yellow, purple, pink and blue that contaminate the redhead's vision. She knows that she cannot call it ugly, because even though it is confusing it does not seem ugly. It is just not for her. Definitely not for her.

But when the redhead's headache worsens, as a reminder of her current situation, Wilhemina imagines that, perhaps, there is no harm in visiting the place. After all, the cause of her headache could be the lack of coffee in her day. It made sense since she did not drink coffee in the morning and also did not stop her work for it at any time during the day.

And suddenly, getting rid of this pain quickly turns out so important to Venable that she crosses the street and enters the coffee shop right away.

The inside is not as bad as the facade. There are wooden tables with several plants in different colors, but with green and brown staying everything seems to make more sense. The place is busy, but everyone is already seated at their respective tables and engaged in parallel conversations, and knowing that she doesn't have to wait for anyone to place her order or stand under the gaze of strangers while waiting for a measly coffee makes Wilhemina calmer.

The coffee shop is not as small as Wilhemina imagined looking from the outside, and part of the redhead is surprised to discover that only one woman works there. She wears a light brown apron with some plants printed on it, as well as the name of the coffee shop and a name tag.

Y/N.

The name is written clearly, in a size acceptable to be seen from a distance and with beautiful handwriting. But what really catches Wilhemina's attention is her face. Y/N has bright eyes and a smile that seems to shine in the middle of the coffee shop, as if she were a being oblivious to all the evils of the world. And Wilhemina almost gets scared when her eyes shine with a kind of natural affection directly in her direction.

“Hello, welcome to Gardenhouse Coffee! How can I help you?”, her voice is also soft, full of joy and Wilhemina can’t decide if she likes it or not.

“Just the menu.”, the redhead didn’t mean to, but her voice came out less inviting than she anticipated.

“Here. Just let me know if you need anything, or if something on the menu is confusing.”

“I believe I can find myself on a sheet of paper. Thank you.”

Y/N doesn’t answer her, just nods and focuses her gaze on her own counter, as if looking for something to do besides looking at the redhead. When Venable focuses her gaze on the menu, she notices that the names are absurd. Full of lame puns, or ingredients that are not very inviting to her, and Wilhemina has absolutely no time for any of that, especially when her head starts to hurt again. So, she doesn't bother to look at the entire menu to turn her attention to the waitress in front of her.

"I'll just have a strong coffee, medium size. Black, no sugar or anything else.", as the words slip past her lips, Wilhemina slides the menu to the counter again, and as she does so she can see that Y/N notices that she is not available for any silly conversation in the middle of this sale, and the redhead feels grateful for that since her head continues to hurt more and more with each second.

"It's on its way! What's your name?", the waitress's smile is there again, but the question confuses Wilhemina.

Why does she want Wilhemina's name if she is the only one inn line there waiting for a coffee? And honestly, a simple, regular coffee doesn't take long to make so there's no chance that Y/N will forget what to do or to who it is directed before it is ready.

The redhead thinks about being unpleasant and asking questions in a loud and clear tone for everyone to hear, questioning the attendant's IQ until the incessant smile disappears from her face, but her head is about to throb without pause so Wilhemina just answers quickly before watching Y/N work.

"Venable. Wilhemina Venable."

Maybe it would be better for her back to just sit down, because the idea of ​​the pain in the center of her forehead being accompanied by a much more unpleasant one in the middle of her spine made her saliva taste bitter. But sitting carefully in chairs that seem too low, and then having to get up to leave with the same care, both to avoid hurting herself and to avoid attracting curious looks, is so exhausting that perhaps the first option is actually the best on a comparative scale.

It's official, she prefers to stand and only sit down when she is really comfortable and without pitying looks on her, in her car.

Trying to use the time she has in a profitable way, the redhead takes her wallet out of her bag and then her card, but as soon as she looks up, she sees Y/N writing something down in a cup filled with a dark liquid that Wilhemina could swear is hers.

It really was fast.

The cup is handed to her with a sweet smile, and Wilhemina almost feels obliged to mirror it, even if it was with a slight robotic lift of her lips, but then she sees it.

Wilhielmina.

At another time, Venable would have stared at the striking and beautiful line of the barista's handwriting on the glass, or even the two drawn hearts that accompanied it, but the error in her name screams so loudly in her ears that she can barely think of anything else while staring at the hot drink.

If the redhead were living an ordinary day, her first reaction would be to complain to the person in charge and ask the bright-eyed barista if she was illiterate. After all: an I and an L, really?

But her head hurt so much, her body was really tired and crying out for a shower, and her knees were now tired of supporting her weight.

Wilhemina really just wanted to go home. And so the redhead just grabbed the cup and gave the barista a polite nod before heading out of that rainbow-shaped nightmare, not caring if Y/N had said a word to her.

After all, Wilhemina wouldn't go back there.

The coffee must be bad, so she doesn't care if her name is spelled wrong.

She wouldn't go back there anyway.

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 9)

Word count: 2100

Warnings: mommy kink, rough sex, bondage, spanking, oral, overstimulation

Taglist: @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos

You don’t hear from Agatha after that for a day and a half. 

You can’t help but feel like you did something wrong. Was it making her pull over on the side of the road because your needy cunt was begging to be filled by her cock? Was it taking her hand with yours and holding it for the rest of the drive to get pizza? She didn’t seem to mind in either moment. 

Nothing else had happened Monday night once you two had come back to the house. She had given you a chaste kiss in the car, telling you to behave, and you had. The hug you’d given her before you left for the night was the picture of appropriateness. 

Everything had been fine, so why was she icing you out like this? 

It’s sixth period on Wednesday when you finally get a response from her. 

You’re sitting in Biology, textbook standing straight on your desk to hide your phone, staring at your messages with Agatha. 

You’ve sent probably close to thirty texts since Monday night, all of them going unanswered. You were confused at first, then angry, then sad, these emotions spilling into your various messages. 

I had a really nice time with you tonight ;) 

Hey, everything okay? 

Agatha what the fuck 

I’m sorry for whatever I did, please just talk to me. 

You’re wondering if you should send another one now when suddenly, the bubble with three dots pops up. 

She’s typing. 

For the first time in a day and a half, she’s not actively ignoring you. You hold your breath, almost afraid to keep watching. 

Sorry I haven’t replied. Come over after school? 

No explanation for the radio silence. You feel bitter and debate not answering just so she gets some kind of semblance of the hell you’ve been going through. 

But it’s Agatha and she has you under her spell. You can’t imagine not obeying.

Okay. You type back. 

You get a gut feeling that tells you something is wrong. 

Fuck. Did your dad find out about you two? The thought sends your heart racing and nausea climbs into your throat. 

You tell yourself that surely your dad would’ve said something to you if he had found out that you and his wife were fucking. This rational thought helps a little bit but you know that something isn’t right. So if it’s not that, then what is it?

You completely pour over every single interaction you’ve had with Agatha and this consumes you until the last bell of the day rings. You don’t even remember walking across the hall to seventh period but you clearly must have. 

On the drive to your dad’s house, a pit grows in your stomach with every turn that brings you closer to an inevitable confrontation. You absolutely hate conflict.  

You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. Your palms are sweaty and your heart feels like it’s pounding in your throat. You remind yourself to breathe. 

Agatha opens the door and moves to the side to let you in. “Hey,” she says quietly. 

And that sets you off. “‘Hey?’ That’s all you’re going to say? I haven’t heard from you since Monday! I texted you like a million times and you say ‘hey?’ What the actual fuck, Agatha?” 

Pain flashes in her eyes and then it’s gone. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Things were happening, I was busy.” 

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Were you also busy when you fucked me in your bed? In your car? When I went down on you on the couch and made you cum harder than my dad ever did?” You wish you hadn’t brought up all those memories because now you’re angry and turned on. 

At the mention of your dad, she grabs your wrist with a bruising grip and drags you upstairs. She brings you into her room and shoves you against the wall with unnecessary roughness, her lips catching yours in a harsh kiss. She bites your lip so hard that your mouth fills with blood and you hate how hot you find it when she licks it off her own lips. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, seeing the black glint in her eyes. Something is off. 

But she doesn’t answer, only slides her hand up to clasp your throat. Your breath hitches in spite of yourself and her eyes darken. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” you say without thinking. You know you shouldn’t let her touch you until she explains herself, but you are too desperate to feel her hands on you again. Her face lights up in a wicked way and she leads you to the bed and shoves you down so your stomach is on the bed, ass in the air. She flips your skirt up and you shiver at the cold air on your bottom. 

You can almost hear her grin as she slides her fingers up and down your covered slit. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve become from her practically manhandling you. 

“Good,” she says and her hand cracks down on your ass. You gasp and lurch forward on the bed, the sting clearing all the thoughts in your head. 

“Fuck!” 

Her hand tangles in your hair and she pulls you up so your back is now flush against her front. “Count for me,” she whispers lowly in your ear and then lets you go so you fall back onto the bed. 

“One,” you say weakly. 

She spanks you again and your hands grapple with the bed sheets. 

“Two.” 

Again. 

“Three.” The pain has started bleeding into pleasure and you begin slowly rocking your hips against the bed to release some of the tension building between your legs. 

“Ah, ah,” she tuts, hands grabbing your waist, holding you still. Her fingers dig into the skin and you inhale sharply. “Don’t move.” 

“Mommy,” you beg, panting for more. You have to tense your muscles so you don’t start grinding again after she slaps you again. “Four.” 

“Almost done, sweetheart,” she coos, rubbing her hands on your ass cheeks, soothing the burn. Agatha literally has to peel your underwear off because of how wet you are. She then spreads your thighs even more and takes in the sight of you. “Oh, baby, you like this a lot, don’t you? You’re dripping onto the bed.”

You keen and nod your head pathetically. 

“Last one. You’re being such a good girl for mommy.” 

You arch your back in preparation, but this time, she smacks her hand straight on your pussy, fingers landing directly on your clit. You cum from just the bit of stimulation with a guttural moan and she watches in awe as your body contorts. 

“Five,” you say weakly, once you’ve come down from your wave of pleasure, just in case she wants you too. She laughs and flips you over, not giving you any time to recover before burying her head between your legs. Your back shoots off the bed and your hands immediately find purchase in her hair when her tongue gives you a filthy lick but she stops. 

“No touching,” she warns. 

“But, mommy!” you protest. 

She stands up and walks to her nightstand, your cunt cold against the air now that she’s not near you. 

Agatha pulls something out and walks back over to you. “Move to the top of the bed,” she instructs. You do without hesitation. She climbs on top of you, showing you the two lines of rope that were behind her back. You whimper involuntarily. “Are you okay with this?” 

“Yes,” you rasp, too quickly and she chuckles evilly. She leans down to give you a quick peck on the lips and then she makes quick work of tying you to the bed banisters. 

“Not too tight?” She checks and you move your wrists experimentally. You feel like with the right amount of force, you could free yourself if you needed to. 

“They’re good,” you say, voice clouded with lust. “Can you–” And then you stop, unsure if it’s okay to ask. 

“What do you want, baby girl?” Her fingers stroke your thighs reassuringly. 

“Canyoufuckmewithyourcock,” you spit out. She raises an eyebrow, silently prodding you to slow down. You try again, forcing yourself to pause after each word. “Can you fuck me with your cock?” 

She groans out loud. “Such a good girl, using your words like that. Since you took my spanking so well, I think I can arrange that.” She goes back to the same drawer where the restraints were and pulls out her harness and strap. She shimmies out of her pants and hastily gets ready for you. Your hips have started undulating ever so slightly in anticipation. 

She climbs back on the bed, rubs her strap-on against your opening to lube it up, and then slowly pushes in. You immediately feel better with the fullness, your anxiety at Agatha’s weird silence the last few days ebbing away. She gives you a second to adjust to the size and then starts fucking you like an unhinged woman. 

She snaps her hips with every fast thrust, pulling a strangled noise out of you each time. You’re both panting with the exertion and one of her hands finds your throat again. She squeezes and your cunt clenches around her cock, making it harder for her to move. 

“Mommy, fuck, yes,” you sob, the pleasure making you lightheaded. All of your senses are completely overridden by her. All you can feel is Agatha and you wish more than anything you could touch her. But being tied up and completely at her mercy is driving you absolutely crazy. “I’m so close.” 

You can feel her smirking against your skin where she’s leaving bite marks and then soothing the spots with her lips. She keeps fucking you just right. 

“Don’t cum yet,” she says, voice gruff. You whine and she grabs your chin with the hand that was around your throat and turns it roughly so you’re making eye contact with her. “Who do you belong to?” 

She picks up the intensity of her thrusts, if possible. You’re teetering on the edge. “You, mommy, only you!” You wail. 

“Good girl,” she purrs. “Cum for me.” As if you’d be able to stop yourself. 

Your second orgasm hits you much more intensely and you can’t stop chanting her name as she fucks you through it. Your mind goes blank for a second in the bliss. 

She pulls out slowly, leaving a gaping emptiness inside you. It doesn’t stay that way for long, though, because after she takes the strap and harness off and throws them across the room, Agatha moves down the bed and thrust her tongue into you. She sucks your clit into her mouth and you gasp at the stimulation. It’s too much as she eats you out with renewed fervor.  

“Mommy, fuck,” you mewl and strain your wrists against the ties. “It hurts.” 

She pauses for a moment to look up at you through hooded eyelashes. “You can give me one more, can’t you?” 

You nod meekly and she grins, diving back between your folds. It doesn’t take much for her to coax you back to the edge and a few minutes later, you’re crying out her name when you cum for the third time, her hot mouth knowing exactly what to do to make you scream. 

You wince as she gives you one last lick and then she climbs up to pull you into a deep kiss. Her tongue moves into your mouth with raw hunger and you go to put your hands around her before you remember that you’re tied up. Agatha notices that you’re struggling and smirks before untying you. You move your stiff arms around to get the blood flow back. 

“How was that?” Agatha murmurs. 

“Really good,” you answer honestly. Your brow furrows. “Are you okay? You seem a little off.” 

She doesn’t say anything, just lies down on her back on the bed. She motions at you and you cuddle against her body, head resting on her shoulder. Her arm comes around you and you draw soft patterns on her stomach, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin. 

You almost forget that you asked her anything and you’re about to drift off to sleep when she whispers, “Your father is having an affair.” 

[gummimn]

Chicago Road-trip Diary

{an old story it posted; the site seems to be offline, so it is reposting here} By gummimn.

Part 1: introductions and prologue.

I was really looking forward to the coming weekend. LatexIL and I had been chatting for quite some time about the chance of getting together for a weekend of some serious play. I had taken extra days off, so we’d have all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday to play; I didn’t have to leave until Monday afternoon. I still got hard just thinking about his profile entry.

“Latex, rubber, leather bondage: intense inescapable, short or long term. Can top, SM optional. Have equipment including sleepsacks, hoods and gags, lots of restraints, can have multiple guests in playroom at once. I like to travel too. Looking for hot safe bondage players who want it tight, inescapable, with headgear controlling sight, sound, speech and air…ESPECIALLY in head to toe latex/rubber. All holes plugged, tubed, and cath’d. Layers: leather over rubber; sacks over leather; sucked down in rac. Hobbies: rubber, catsuits, sleepsacks, straitjackets, vacrac, hoods, gags, and tight, effective restraints. Keeping bottoms tied up for as long as they like it; stored out of sight, out of mind. Favorite Quote: Maybe you need another layer of rubber and you definitely need those straps tightened up…”

Even after 12 years together, Peter still didn’t get the whole bondage/rubber/sense-dep SM scene. He did his fisting and watersports, played with guys who wanted bears, and loved me. Me? I did WS as well, but man, I wanted my rubber too. Waders, suits, sheaths front and back, hoods, gags, gasmask hoods, industrial gloves and rubber work boots; my rubber English riding boots to go with the Vex Chicago cop shirt and tight cod-piece jeans; the rubber BDU from Invincible; did I mention my home-made 1piece? It was a cross-country ski suit until I got my pervy hands and 3 quarts of liquid latex on it. Add some bondage: straitjackets, ropes, chains, restraints, collars, frames, racks, sacks, locks-and I’d be a happy pig. Leather? Oh hell yeah! I never got on my rocket without full gear: suit, boots, gloves and helmet…such a terrible thing; a gear pig required by his lover to wear gear just to go riding. Sucks to be me! My first piece of leather-a biker-hippie approved biker jacket; my knee-high Red Wing loggers-black laces for formal, white for play; leather jeans and cargoes; hoods, restraints-give me my Mr. S. 4 buckles any day; padded fist mitts; padded posture collar (Thanks again Mr. S!); padded sense-dep hood, the only connection to the outside world the grommet at my mouth. Gags-can I count the ways I like to be gagged? Yes, I can. Floggers and crops; pummeling and beating; yeah, I can take the pain, and make it a ticket to that place only a Dom and his sub can go when they’re in a scene: time stops, space expands, 2 souls commune without a spoken word-nirvana in a dungeon with pain and pleasure the mantra that lets them into the garden.

Peter doesn’t get it, but he doesn’t get in the way. One of the first “big talks” we had before living together had settled that. We discussed all the mundane things that will kill a relationship when times get tough. Times always get tough. One of you gets sick, or fired; or you see someone really hot who wants you too; the weather gets too hot or too cold. Crap happens. You work out the little details beforehand, you can get through them. So we talked. Monogamy got talked over as well: go out, have a good time, remember your heart stays at home, don’t bring home diseases. It had worked for 12 years; he had his kink or two, I had my laundry list of pervs; we shared each other and our hearts and our home.

So, I was off to a long weekend in Chicago. I’d shipped some gear ahead, but not much. LatexIL assured me that he had everything that was needed, and I wasn’t going out to the bars. So I sent on my favorite waders and boots, my favorite gags and the posture collar. The only gear in my saddlebags was a rainsuit-never leave home without it; my meds and toilet kit; and bottles of Boost for the trip down. He’d asked, and I’d readily agreed, to a liquid diet starting a couple of days before hand. No need to make a trip to interrupt the scene; the external cath would take care of the rest.

Peter and I had talked over breakfast; his bowl of cereal, my bottle of Boost. We confirmed I’d call when I got there and when I left Monday. He made sure once again that he had LatexIL’s phone and address. We clarified once again the secret code I’d use if I thought the scene was bad and I needed out. Peter can be a pain in the ass when it comes to crap like that. He’s mister “plan everything out, double check the plans, confirm the details, annoy the partner with more plans and details.” I’m a bit more impetuous and spontaneous, mister “hey, that sounds like fun! Let’s go!” He was off to work; I was off to get ready.

First on the list were a trim, then shower and douche. I got out the trimmer, and worked it over my head once again. The smallest guard left only bristly fuzz that felt soooo good to the touch. Latex had sent a liquid soap for me to use; it had an intense chemical scent, but it left my body as smooth and clean as a baby’s behind. The enema was quick; three days of liquids saw to that. I rinsed off the hair from the trim, soaped up and rinsed down. Brushed, flossed, dried off, time to get dressed.

Now was the make it or break it moment. LatexIL had sent me a really cool locking gag and a custom 1-piece suit. The gag was some sort of carbon-fiber head harness with a tube to connect to my CamelBack, and another to use as a straw for Boost on the trip down. Once I locked it over the suit, I had only one way out-I had to see Latex for the key. I took the suit, and admired it once again. Sheaths front and rear; socks with toes, gloves with grippy marks on the fingers, an attached hood the only way in; stretch the mouth wide, let it swallow me whole. It was fairly thick, but still thin enough to flex with me so I wouldn’t get fatigued on the ride. It had been cut like a SlickSuit so it would conform to my every curve. It would slide up crack of my ass so the sleeve behind could slide in with the plug I was going to wear, and stretch snug across my broad shoulders while hugging my small, slim waist. It would be my skin for the weekend, if I didn’t bug out and call the whole thing off.

I got out the lube, opened the suit, and started to pour it in. I started at the feet and worked it into the toes. Up the legs, into the crotch and over the sheaths hanging inside. Starting at the fingers, I lubed up the sleeves, then across the chest. I applied a very thin film to the back of my neck, and my lower face. I wanted the hood to slide on comfortably, but I didn’t want lube in my eyes when I started to sweat under my leathers. Now it was time to slide it on. Cold at first, it quickly warmed. My toes settled in their homes, and I slid it up my legs to my crotch. I worked my dick and nut into the sack and sheath, and then used the plug to seat the sheath in my ass. That old familiar feeling began to settle in-that horny tingle that started out on the skin and worked its way into my bones and took over my brain as I felt the rubber grip my legs and transform my skin. I pulled it up my chest, and worked my hands down the sleeves until they popped into the gloves. For a moment, I had to stop and stroke. Looking at myself in the mirror, I began to grope myself. The squeak of rubber on rubber tuned my senses to the feel of the latex as it became my skin; the warming rubber gave off that heady scent of latex and sweat and my own rubber body. I was lost in the smell and the sound and the sensation. It took all my strength to pull myself back from the edge; that would have to wait until LatexIL let me go over. I pulled the hood over my head, and smoothed the eyes and mouth into place. All that remained was the gag and the last of my freedom.

I looked at the rubberman staring out from the mirror. The light caught every curve and ripple and nook and cranny of my body under its shiny new skin. I felt up my cock, worked my nipples, pushed on the plug, pulled my nut. I could still call it off, jack off, and go for a ride. Or I could put the mouth-guard with its tubes onto my teeth, pull the strap around, and place the lock. I stood there for a long time, stroking my dick, holding the head harness. Finally, I took a deep breath and pushed the guard into my mouth. I worked my tongue around to make sure the tubes on the inside were properly seated between my back molars so I could work the bite valves for the tube that would be my drinking straw and the CamelBack connection. Looking myself in the face in the mirror, my blue eyes the only evidence of a human being within the latex man staring back at me, I pulled the straps to the back of my head…and closed the lock. Now I was in for it-he had the key and my only way out.

I stood there a while longer, worried and afraid about what I had gotten myself into; more horny and lust-demented than I had been in too long a time. My misgivings were too late now. I took one last stroke of my dick with a strong tug on my nut, and left the bathroom.

I went to the bedroom, sat down, and slipped prolyprop socks over my feet and UnderArmor glove liners over my hands. A thin silk balaclava was next; I made sure it rested on my chin so the tubes from the gag were out for use. I lifted the CoolMax liner off the bed. It was my summer salvation; it kept me dry enough in the heat I could wear my leathers in the worst of July and August. It gave my body a shield against the leathers, and kept my leathers clean and free of my sweat. The lightning bolt graphics swirling over the bodysuit gave me a shiver of power and desire as I looked it over, and took in its sweet scent. I slid into the open chest, pushed my feet down the legs, my hands through the sleeves tucked the balaclava under the neck and zipped it shut. My latex skin was now armored against the leathers to come.

It had been a sacrifice, but I now had the racing suit of my gear pig wet dreams. The A-stars SX-1. Asymmetrical chest zips, molded poly-therm armor melded onto the knees, elbows, and shoulders. The same molded poly-therm cast into an armored hump down my back to protect me from whiplash if I crashed and to guide the wind over me as I lay on top of my Daytona. A vivid sky blue, white accents, black woven stretch Kevlar in the crotch and down the arms, perfed almost like mesh, memory foam armor across my chest and abs and lower back. It looked hot, the brilliant blue contrasting with the bright sunshine yellow of the bike, meeting on my A-Star Super Tech boots of blue smashing against yellow fading to white at the toe of my boots. Next was my Arai-a white star on a blue field with gold trim. I slid the Foggy Respro over my rubber face without snagging it, made sure the tubes from the gag hung free, and cinched it snug. I reached inside my suit, grabbed the hose from my hydration pack and hooked it up to the left tube so I could drink as I rode. Last, but not least, my Icon Ti-Maxx longs: blue with bling; gold plated titanium on blue gloves, gray palms with gold studs on the heel of my palm, the wrist strap snugged, the gauntlet straps firmly closed together.

I took another look in the full-length mirror on the closet door. Under the leathers, my dick stretched further up my abs. Blue, gold, white and yellow-from head to toe; armor over my shoulders, across my elbows and down my forearms; more armor over my knees and down my shins; the armored aero-hump running down my spine; it was worth every bit of overtime. The mere sight of my skin-tight leathers alone would have gotten me off in a heartbeat if I weren’t under orders to wait. My wallet was safely under the seat, the saddlebags were packed and strapped, it was time for take-off. Sense-dep breath control head-trips, utter immobility and complete helplessness waited 7 hours away. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed my keys and locked the door behind me. In the garage, I threw my leg over and started the motor. The bike safely walked out of the garage, I did the door remote and tucked it in a saddlebag pocket. I closed the golden-blue mirrored shield, slipped it into vent-lock, and launched my rocket.

Part 2: my trip and arrival

I had gotten a semi-early start. Early enough to get there before rush hour in Chicagoland, late enough to be after the morning rush here in Minneapolis. I’d only have to stop for relief and Boost breaks, so I wasn’t worried about the time. Late May can still be a roll of the dice for weather. It can be the perfect warmth all day, and still drop to freezing after sundown. You can start out dry, and end up soaking wet. Lady Latex favored the bold. It was a perfect temp to be riding skinned in rubber and encased in armored leather. Just warm enough that a layer of sweat let the latex slide over my skin without binding or chafing, no more, no less. I took the freeway just long enough to get out of town, then took my exit, and got on the 2-lane. More fun, less dangerous than the interstate, it was my preferred way to make long rides. After all, you get twisties on 2-lane, not the interstate, and I do love to put a knee down; the sound, the feel of my puck skimming asphalt gets me almost as hard as the feel of rope wrapping around my body.

I felt every bump in the road through my plug. Each crack and ripple was transmitted from the plug to my prostate, transferred to my dick, and buzzed into my brain. Once I was safely alone, away from stoplights and stop signs, crosswalks and city speed zones, I knew I wouldn’t have to shift often, so I got into my cruising position. I lay down on the tank and tucked my boots up against the passenger pegs. To corner, I would simply shift to one side or the other; to shift, I would slip my left food down to the gear shift long enough to click it, then lift it back to the rear peg. My cock and nut and taint melted into the seat sending the motor’s hum directly to my heads, both of them. The memory foam padding on my chest absorbed bumps from the road, protecting me and allowing me to breath. The rocket merged with its pilot, the two became one, and the miles slid by.

It’s strange when you’re out on a bike. Even though a car’s air-filter doesn’t really filter out all the aromas from the air coming in, there is an exponential difference when riding. You can taste each scent as it comes: the cows in the pasture, the cottonwoods by the stream, the lilacs by the farmhouse. You see it, you smell it, you taste it all in the same instant. Combine that with the hum from the motor, the buzz from the tires, and the utter bliss of being out on your own magic carpet, and you can go into sensory overload. It’s like being high without the down or the expense of weed. It’s like being born again each and every second, the whole of your being a clean slate every moment. No past, no future, only now, forever and ever amen and amen. Sometimes you just have to stop, get off the rocket, and shake your head to clear out the joy and release the beauty. Then it’s back on the magic carpet and off to the horizon again. Four times I stopped; twice to fuel my Daytona, twice more to fuel the pilot as well. Before I knew it, I was on the outskirts of Chicagoland. Taking the two-lane meant I hadn’t had to worry about tolls, but it also meant I had to heed the directions from my Garmin to twist my way into the city. Even so, it was going to be perfectly timed. I’d arrive just after LatexIL got home, so he’d be there to open his garage and I could ride right in.

After that, my freedom so real and so perfect while on two wheels would be over. My freedom freely given and utterly taken would be transformed into complete slavery in total bondage. In my servitude, I would achieve a new bliss, a different joy, a deeper beauty. I could not wait to be utterly confined and perfectly helpless. The thought of the total freedom of the ride taken to become the utter submission of my captor’s bondage made me so hard and horny I could barely focus on the road ahead.

Finally, I arrived at the address I’d programmed into my digital map. As I rolled up to the brownstone, I saw the tuck-under garage left open for my entry. I settled my rocket into the berth gently; I don’t think any of the neighbors noticed. To them I was just another sport bike rider parking my toy for the night. I stood up stiffly, and stretched, then stood off my bike. The door from the garage to the house stood open, as he said it would be. I unstrapped the saddlebags, threw them over my shoulder, and entered, closing the door and my freedom behind me.

Part 3: the scene begins.

As I shut the door, I heard a voice behind me.

“Hello blue.”

The same deep voice I’d heard so often on our Skype chats, but wrong; it’s Bryce, not blue. Suddenly, my world shifted as my mind spun. Vertigo like from a harsh fever swept through me; even as I stepped away from the door, my body came to a complete stop. I swear, for a moment, I couldn’t even breathe as every muscle in my body froze. I tried to turn to face him; my chest didn’t shift an inch. I tried to turn my head; I stared straight ahead at the closed door. I tried to lift my hand to raise my face-shield; it hung stiffly at my side. I gave one last effort to try and see him in the corner of my sight; my eyes were fixed, looking at the peephole in the door. Even my dick froze in mid-twitch! Something inside my mind had hijacked my body; I was more subdued than I had ever been in any amount of rope, restraints or chains. My mind raced, What the fuck!? What just happened? What’s with that word? Why has it paralyzed me?

Minutes passed while I struggled to move any muscle in my body. Nothing shifted the least bit. Sweat broke out over the whole of my skin as I panicked. The only motion I had was my breathing; as the vertigo swept past, it had returned. Now I was sucking air like I’d run the quarter mile as I went into full flight mode. I should’ve been tearing out the door and onto the street, the way my mind was racing. Instead I was a leather and latex statue, an armored mannequin of flesh and bone. Finally, I heard him step up behind me.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to turn around and say hello?”

That same deep sexy voice, now laced with sarcasm and menace.

“Oh wait, that’s right, you can’t. I’ve said the magic word.”

Fuck, the vertigo, the frozen breath, the swirling in my mind, only stronger and deeper somehow.

“Blue, turn around and face the mirror.”

Before, I had struggled with all my might to turn and face him; now I willed every muscle, every fiber, every bone in my body to stay where I was. As paralyzed as my body was before, now it moved on its own; against my will, I turned around. Looking across the entryway, a small mudroom and laundry, there was a mirror on the far wall. Like I was on a leash, my body stepped forward, crossed the 4 paces to reach the mirror, and came to a complete stop. Not like I normally would stop, you know, slowing down as I approached, then bringing my rear foot forward to rest beside the front. No, my body strode across the room and STOPPED; I almost pitched forward into the wall it was so abrupt. If I had been scared before, this display nearly shut me down with terror.

As I came back to my body, my thoughts crashed around my skull, “What the Hell? What is in that word? Why can it move me, when I can’t move myself?”

He had followed me across the room. I could see him beside me as I stared straight ahead into the mirror. Even the normal movement of my eyes, back and forth, up and down, was frozen. I could only look straight ahead, eyes perfectly level, no left or right. If he had stepped even one step to the side, I would not be able to see him, because he would be out of my direct line of sight.

“Blue, examine your reflection in the mirror. Enable sub-routine Bryce to access optical sensors without security filter 421. Apply. Bryce, can you see everything?”

Damn, that voice of his; so strong, so commanding over Skype, was beyond strong, beyond commanding when in the same room. Even as I relaxed into his voice as I had so many times before, my mind swirled again, and my vision shifted. I stared; my breath caught in my throat. I could see everything.

“What the Fuck? There’s a padlock through the chinch rings on my chinstrap; where did it come from? When had it been put there? What the hell? Why is there zip ties cinched from my suit’s zipper pulls to the D-rings on my collar? What the Fuckity Fuck is a collar doing around my neck? What the Fuck is it made of? It looks like carbon fiber! Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck! There’s another one of those freaky zip-ties around each wrist, strapping my gloves to my arms! My Boots! There’s some sort of carbon fiber strap wrapped around the top of my boots! From the top of my instep to the top of the wedge-shaped shin-guard, there’s a fucking carbon fiber strap snugged around my boots! What the hell is going on here? Why am I locked into my leathers? Who did this to me? When!?!? What is in that word!? Why can’t I do anything unless he says blue!?”

I screamed-but it was only in my head; not a sound came out of my throat.

My eyes flickered back up from my boots to look at the face of the man beside me. The open inviting smile I had seen on cam was now a malevolent grin. He was obviously getting off on my terror and confusion. He was looking at me in the mirror as I was looking at him. Waiting for me to see everything there was to see in my reflection.

“Do you like what you see, Bryce?” His deep, strong voice could make my breath stop in my throat, even in my stark raving terror. Even in my stark raving terror, I did like what I saw. The vision in the mirror, a crotch-rocketeer locked in his leathers, gloves, boots and helmet, had me hard. If I was a leaker, I’d have been dripping; but I’m not. Instead, my dick tried to crawl up out of the codpiece and into my throat. I was trembling now not in fear, but in stark raving horniness. Carbon fiber straps shone like gloss black paint over my boot tops. Wide carbon fiber straps cinched my gloves to my arms, gloss black over matte blue and gray and shiny gold. A carbon fiber collar gleamed between the collar-less top of my racing suit and the bottom edge of my helmet. The shiny chrome of the D-rings were reflected on the collar, and made the strap connecting the suit zip to the D-ring seem like a glossy ribbon of black light. There were 2 tubes hanging from under my helmet; I could feel something in my nose, I realized it must be the tubes. I could see the top of a rubber suit rising from my leathers; I was now aware it continued as a hood. I was completely sealed in rubber, from head to toe. There was a tube sticking out from the top of my leathers that disappeared into my helmet; I could feel it was attached to the gag in my mouth, and it was leaking. I could feel a catheter in my dick; that must be what’s leaking. There was a MONSTER plug in my ass; I estimated at least a 3-inch diameter. Everything his profile promised had been delivered. Every opening was tubed, cath’d, gagged and plugged. I was so horny, so hard, so turned on, I was vibrating.

As I came back to earth, I wondered what had gone through people’s mind as they had seen me at the gas station. It was very obvious to anyone who looked that my suit was locked on me. The thought that I had ridden all the way to Chicago from Minneapolis in obvious bondage for everyone to see sent my mind into another horny tailspin and made my dick twitch. At least that muscle could now move on its own!

As my mind cleared, my eyes bore into the reflection of his. Not that he could see mine through the mirrored visor. But still, they did. The horniness had given way to terror had given way to rage.

“What the fuck have you done to me? Why can’t I move? When did I get locked in my gear? Who locked me up? What the HELL is going on? What’s in the word blue that it controls everything I do?”

All what I would have shouted, loud enough to crack the mirror in front of me... If I could have spoken... but there was that gag...

“You must be a bit confused.” “A Bit!?” “Would you like to know what happened?” “HELL yeah, I want to know what happened!” “Blue…Remember this morning.”

If my body hadn’t been stone cold paralyzed, I’d have collapsed to the floor as another wave of vertigo swept my mind. I remembered this morning; oh Hell, did I ever remember this morning.

Next: “Memories Light the Corners of My Mind….”

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Can I request Xavier taking care of sick fem reader please

Here you go anon. I hope you enjoy <3

You look like someone ran you over

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis: You come down with a cold, so Xavier takes care of you.

warnings: none, literally just fluff

word count: 0.7k

You had felt it coming for days. Creeping up on you until had you in its clutch. The revenge for underestimating what a sick roommate could do to you and yet you couldn´t so anything to fight it off. Not all the tea and sleep in the world could have possibly helped to prevent the runny yet at the same time stuffy nose, the coughing and the resulting sore throat, it did nothing against the ache that spread throughout your whole body. What was worst of all though was the general feeling of sensitivity, physically and mentally. It was just the worst. You had made it your mission to get better over the weekend, but all the effort was to no avail. Come Monday morning you were feeling worse than ever. As a consequence of all the suffering you also didn´t answer your phone to any incoming texts or calls. Your friends knew you were sick anyway so who could possibly want anything from you.

Well despite all your friends knowing about the state your health was in at the moment, one person didn´t know and you neither showing up to the lessons you shared on Monday nor answering any of his messages worried him out of his mind to say the least. So in the afternoon Xavier made his way over to Ophelia hall to see if you were still alive. Knocking on the wooden door he heard shuffling and your weak voice cursing under your breath before you greeted him.

“What happened to you? You look like someone ran you over.”, he ignores your warning to better stay away from you right now and steps in the room.

“Thank you… Truly. Remind me to never take care of anyone sick ever again if I ever have that idea like ever.”, you pulled the blanket around your shoulders and over your head tighter when a shiver runs through your body.

“Will do. Now come on, you need to lay down again.”

“I´m sorry I didn´t answer my phone. I just couldn´t bring myself to.”

“No need to apologize. I no you are alright now. Well relatively.”, that stupid half smile on his lips makes a small smile spread on your face too. “Now you´ll stay here and don´t move. I´ll be back soon.”

Xavier pulled another blanket over your shivering figure, before he stands  up to leave. What was his plan now?

As it turned out you wouldn´t need to ask yourself that for long. In record time he made his way to wherever he was going and back to you. This time it was your roomie who opened the door to him as he made his way over to put all the stuff he brought on the little bedside table, almost knocking the cup of tea over with the plastic bag.

“What is all that?”

“First of all tea with honey.”, he hands you the warm cup. “And then about all the pain killers I could find.”

You take all the pills he gives you and set the now almost empty cup aside. He even stays with you until you fall asleep from the medicine working, overhearing the weak protest as he gets into bed with you skillfully.

That´s all you do in the following week. Drink tea, sleep and occasionally protest your loving boyfriend spending too much time around you. You were convinced he was gonna get infected next, but whatever you said fell on deaf ears.

Secretly you were a little glad about it. Cuddling Xavier always helped you feel better. There was just something about being spooned by him, his arms wrapped so tightly around you… All of it had you back on your legs by the end of the week.

Your nurse however couldn´t say as much. Just like you had predicted Xavier now was the one coming down with the worst case of a cold you had seen him suffer from ever since you gotten to know him. Of course you nursed him back to health like he had done with you, but not without giving him a little shit, because “I told you so, Xavi. Now drink your tea and stop whining.”

[marierg]

Biscuits and Beskar: 3

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC Kaylee Manu

Rating: PG-13 (just for the last little tense parts and the action)

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, language, mentions of past traumas, SNAKE!, semi nakedness, naughty-ish thoughts, TENSION. No actual naughtiness or schmexy-ness but lots of thoughts running wild.

A/N: I apologize now, I know I'm not writing very fast but I hope what comes out is worth the wait. I wanted to give these two a few little moments but also I wanted the Pike incursion to be felt. I have given names to a few of the characters we know. The Gamorean guards are Ro and Weem and the Rancor handler is Vol (pronounced Val). Our girl Kaylee grew up on a star cruise liner (think Princess cruise) and I picture her having been around entertainers and dancers a lot as a kid. One of whom I picture as a very young Jimmy Buffet.

PS- Kaylee is a shit magnet (doesn't mean to find trouble, it just seems to find her) and a klutz. Lots of heart and spirit, but lots of boo boos. Lets just say I hope that the Daimyo's insurance is good.

Words: 4700ish

Song credit: Come Monday by the great Jimmy Buffet! (Don't tell me Margaritaville doesn't exist in Star Wars)

Masterlist Next

Tags are open, just drop a line

“PAPA!”

You woke in a cold sweat, hands scrubbing the last of the horrible memory away. You could still see him, hear his last words.

“Free men built this galaxy and free men will have their day again.”

Celsus Manu had died as he lived, bravely standing for what he believed. How many souls had he smuggled on those cruises, how many had Papa saved from a fate worse than death? To be bound to a life of forced servitude until their very spirit extinguished even while their bodies remained.

Nothing could have saved him that day though. The shots ringing in your ears...

Heading down to the kitchen you pulled your robe tight. At each of the dormitory doors you paused to listen, just to be sure the sand scrappers slept well. Turbo was still recovering from the crash to catch that slug majordomo that was sleeping in the dungeon. And it was right where the slemo belonged. It had shaken you to see the boy hurt. The little motley crew was all that you had, and now you could count two hunters to that small group. The Daimyo had done something you couldn't, seeing the kids well cared for, it pleased you beyond words. Starting a kettle you heard Ratty boop and beep as he popped around the corner, following you like a shadow.

There was a balcony just off the hall between the throne room and your domain. It was peaceful there, with not but the wind off the dunes and canyons to break the silence. Sipping your tea there was another sound that came not from the vast wilderness, but the tower above. A shadowy figure moving in smooth, controlled motions. You couldn't help to wonder what specifically caused the Daimyo to be up at this hour?

Then again what wouldn't, given the mess at hand. Finishing your tea you rose, patting the little droid on the head. Glancing again to the tower above you went back to the kitchen and pulled out another mug, “Ratty would you be so kind as to deliver something for me?”

The gaffii's weight was a comfort in his hands as Boba moved about the floor. It was a steadfast and strong weapon, it served him well. The dreams had returned with a vengeance causing many a restless night. Practicing always acted as a bit of a balm. People say that time heals, Boba always thought it a foolish saying. No what healed was not simply time, it was affection, closeness, family. The Tuskins had taken him in, made him part of the tribe. They had given him much needed perspective after years of burying himself in hunting.

Years of running from his past... of ignoring the pain.

Boba was a different man than the one who had been swallowed by the Sarlacc. He had done his job and done it well, hoping to be as good a hunter as his father if not better. Jango had once told him that the more proficient he became the more he could pick and choose the jobs he took, but even Jango wouldn't have been able to avoid the Empire. Those hunts were never satisfying, the quarry rarely worth the price on their head.

Boba's philosophy was much like Jango's; he did the job, he got paid, end of contract. Even still Boba regretted parts of his past. He wondered sometimes what had happened to his daughter, if Ailyn ever thought of him. He had stayed away to keep her safe and maybe that was how it should stay. Hearing a tap at the door his attention shifted. He hadn't send for anyone, “Yes?"

Crossing the floor he opened the portal to find no one, just a tray with a cup of tea and a piece of flimsy. Cautiously picking up the mug Boba read the fine scrawl.

You should get some rest.

Seems he wasn't the only one awake. Taking a sip of the herbal tea he could faintly taste the black melon that was part of the brew. A faint smirk crossed his face. Boba sometimes wondered how you actually felt about him, good or bad. You were ever a puzzle, keeping well behind the curtain of formality yet still doing small kindnesses like this. Something a friend would do for another. Maybe you were waiting for him to seek you out? He hummed at that thought, sipping on the warm decoction. Whatever the case he still felt glad of your presence, even if it was from arms length. “Dral runi.”

“Skad aren't you all supposed to be patrolling?” You looked over the middle counter to where the young man was hovered over his breakfast.

Finishing a bite of hash the scamp nodded at you. “Jus' waiting on Nikita and that Gamorean, Ro, to get back.”

“And here we are,” Nikita strutted in followed by Ro, who grunts at you. The other Gamorean, Weem, was with Drash in the hangar taking a delivery.

Turning to the counter where dishes are drying you gesture to them. “Get some food you two and tell Vol to come eat too.”

Vol never came up until after he had seen to the Rancor. He was a quiet man, said only what was necessary, had a hard edge about him. He was considerate in his own way though, you'd seen him a few times help the kids here and there. But mostly he kept his own company and you respected that. As your thoughts wandered a favorite tune came over the speaker, a smile spread on your face as the old sweet song brought back happier times. Reaching over you raised the volume.

“Oh no,” Skad tried to make a run for it.

“Oh yes.” Grabbing the boy's hand you start to dance and sing. It was something you'd done with Papa in the kitchen growing up. For a moment when you moved across the floor you thought maybe he was there, laughing with you. Most of the kids would dance along when this would happen, knew which songs you loved.

Fennec had gotten back to the Palace when it was still dark, her head buzzing. Whether it was from Fwip's hospitality or the lovely female whose warm bed she had shared was undetermined. What a sweet distraction it had been though. Fennec stepped into the kitchen, an amused chuckle escaping her. You were twirling around and dancing with one of the Gamoreans, looking over to her with a puckish grin. “Don't even think it cookie.”

You rolled your eyes and instead went to the counter to retrieve a Bloody Mary. Handing the drink to the master assassin you continue singing.

“...Come Taungsday it'll be alright. Come Taungsday I'll be holding you tight. I spent four lonely days in a brown Bespin haze and I just want you back by my side.”

Fennec took a sip of the drink and couldn't help smirking at your flirtations. “Sweetheart I would eat you alive.”

“Hmm but what a way to go...” Making a flirting face you swayed your hips to the music.

Bumping hips with Fennec you threw a towel over your shoulder to get back to work. The assassin had a wicked sense of humor you found. A sense of humor that struck in the form of your belt loop getting hooked to pull you to her side. Fennec tutted you like a naughty child, “Ah ah ah, the song's not over cookie.”

She tugged, guiding your movements while holding her drink in the other. You continued to sing and sway as the song hit the last chorus. Fennec tapped her fingers under your chin then stepped away as the final chords rang. You laughed and felt genuinely happy, feeling safe enough to let down your guard. Which was funny if you thought on it... feeling safe in the palace of the Daimyo of Tattoine. Looking at Fennec's smug face you couldn't help but be a little bit of a brat, “Such a tease Mistress Shand.”

Fennec smirked, glancing back at the hallway, “Oh, you have no idea...”

Boba had stepped back where you couldn't see him, still watching you. Observing as you joined his second in command at the table, making notes on your data pad. It annoyed him that Fennec would toy with you like some dancing girl. Walking into the kitchen he saw you look up at him with a small smile.

“Good morning.” Tracking as he moved to sit at the head of the table by Fennec. You take a fortifying breath, kark you were tired. “Omelet with bacon for the Daimyo or just toast and coffee like this one?”

“Careful cookie, remember who's in charge.” Fennec gives you a light warning. There's no real threat behind it, especially with how she saw Boba looking at you. What these two needed was a solid nudge, still now may not be the time. “By the by, Garsa was asking about you.”

“How's she doing?” You ask concerned. Moving to the buffet you started making up plates and readying the omelet pan.

“Just fine, the Sanctuary was booming last night.”

“And I bet Troy was the bartender,” You smirked at her expression as you passed her a plate of hash. “They have a heavy pour and always work race days, better tips.”

Boba watched as you bustled around making his plate. He was used to eating rations and quick meals on the fly, not often indulging in the slow enjoyment of a meal. It was something that he was still not used to. As you placed the plate and utensils down he glanced to where you sat, keeping his tone even, “You're not eating?”

“No.. I'm...” a flush rose in your cheeks as the man looked at you. Something in those eyes that saw too much. Swallowing thickly you tried to find your words again, “I'll eat later.”

“You should eat,” Boba tilted his head, suspecting that you had never returned to your quarters after making his tea. He gave a slight waive of his hand, “Please.”

“Yes Lord Fett,” Grabbing another plate you put an egg on a slice of toast and refilled your Kaf cup. His gaze was on you like a warm summer sun until you took that first bite. Glancing over you saw the man's lips turn up just slightly as he ate his meal. “I hope it's to your liking.”

“Quite good, thank you.” Boba could think of a few things he'd like to consume much better. Still he did not want to startle or distress, you always appeared flustered when he was near. There were more pressing matters that his mind needed to tend to, business always before pleasure. “Did the prisoner receive a meal.”

“Yes Lord Fett.” Rolling your eyes and giving a grunt, your tone was flatly annoyed.

Well that was a first he thought. “You don't much care for the majordomo?”

“Not particularly,” you bit out the words as though you had swallowed a bug.

Boba gave a huff of a laugh at that. So you had a temper.

“Anyone willing to deal with the Pikes is a damn fool,” Lips hovering on your mug you dared look the Daimyo in the eye, “But while also attempting to assassinate the new Daimyo... dead man walking.”

Boba couldn't help give a slight nod at that, even if his pride was a tad hurt. And foolish he had been, so distracted by his dealings with the syndicate so certain of the profits. All while his tribe was massacred by that speeder gang. But that was then, this was now. “At least he was smart enough to give me the information.”

You huffed, mind turning to more immediate concerns. The rotation on security had changed again, but most of all no audiences. “I didn't see anything on the schedule today.”

Boba didn't raise his head to reply, “Nothing worth mention.”

“Is that why you were awake?” You shouldn't poke the bear, you really shouldn't poke the bear.

Boba looked up from his omelet, seeing the softness of your eyes. You were concerned and curious. “Cleaning up messes.”

“Putting out fires,” You kept your tone easy as you pulled up your data pad to show a message from a friend in Mos Eisley. Partly about parts for your speeder and partly about an increase in unfriendly traffic. “Those fin heads are coming Lord Fett.”

Fennec watched you two dance around one another like a pair of tookas. She knew you had an edge to you, most did living on the outer rim. It did amuse her that you were finally relaxing around them enough to let your teeth show. “No need to worry your pretty head Cookie.”

“They're blood thirsty little piranhas.” You well remembered problems with them during the drought years. How ruthless they could be towards people who couldn't pay their protection.

“Yes but they can occasionally be dealt with,” Fennec kept a calm tone, watching you.

“Rather it ended quickly so that people could get back to living. But what do I know,” Tone low and sad you got up and headed to the sink, tone sharper than intended. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

“Cookie...” Fennec sighed taking a last drink. “I'm going to town, comm if you need anything.”

“Fennec, be careful.” You watched as she gave you a nod and left. Your thoughts were dark, grumbling in your throat you scrubbed harder at the last of the dishes. You hadn't meant to be moody, it was not like you at all. “I'm sorry...”

“For what?”

You jumped not realizing he had come up behind you. You were so startled that you dropped a glass. The shards sliced your finger, not badly but enough to be annoying. “Shit.”

“Here,” Boba started the faucet, placing your hand under it. “I didn't mean to...”

“No it's... I should be more careful.” Keeping your head down you weren't sure if you could meet his gaze. “I shouldn't have snapped.”

“I think Fennec will survive,” Boba could see your face flushing as he sprayed some bacta on your hand. His tone turning soft, a rarity, but you seemed to bring that out. “There, doesn't look bad.”

“Thank you,” You tried not to stammer as his hands held yours, strong and larger than your own. Glancing up to meet his gaze you almost froze, “Lord Fett.”

“Boba,” He smirked and raised your hand to his lips, giving a light brush of his lips to your knuckles. “My name is Boba.”

“Boba,” you nodded dumbly as he slowly released your hand.

“Kaylee,” Boba inclined his head to you.

Your heart thundered in your ears. Watching as he gestured for you to sit again. He nodded for you to at least finish your Kaf and so the two of you sat like that for a time. It was companionable, without the need to fill the silence.

Boba waited till you had relaxed again, speaking quietly so not to startle. “The tea last night, you put black melon milk in it.”

“Helps settle the nerves,” you shrugged sipping at your drink and not quite looking at Boba. It was such a short name for a man who cast such a large shadow. “and I didn't want to waste the melon on just my tea.”

Boba hummed at that. “And what is it that keeps you awake Kaylee?”

“Things better left in the past...”

“I over stepped...” then he felt your small hand take his own, just holding it lightly.

“S'alright. My Papa would say that honesty is good for the soul.” You sigh with a sad little smile, “Sometimes memories aren't always pleasant and come when we least want them.”

“He sounds like a wise man.”

Patting his hand you study the inside of your mug, tone a little bitter sweet, “He was.”

Screaming and several squeals rang through the halls of the Palace, causing both of you to jump. Boba got to the throne room first. There was Ro, Weem, and Drash standing next to an ornate wood box on the floor. Nikita stood frozen several steps away, a dune sea asp staring her down. The large serpent baring its fangs at the girl.

“Don't move, be still.” Boba began to approach the viper his helmet display lighting up trying to target the creature. It was just too close, still in range to strike the girl before he could shoot.

“Fuck!” Drash could shoot herself for accepting the damn shipment, it was her fracking fault it should be her. “Nikita it's gonna be ok. I swear it'll be ok.”

Nikita cried silently, tears trailing her cheeks as she tried to remain still.

“Nikita cat, look at me sweetie.” Stars and maker help you, no please don't let this happen. Your heart was in your throat and you wanted to scream. But that wouldn't help any, “'Kita Cat, come on look at me, look at me.”

The young woman glanced at you finally getting her eyes off the snake.

“Good girl, just... you remember what we used to say? When you kids would hide,” you stepped just a bit closer holding out a hand as if to grasp hers, “Far and away we won't be afraid. Just keep your eyes on me.”

“Far and away we won't be afraid. Far and away we won't be afraid...” the girl whispered the words over and over still looking at you.

“Good, keep her calm,” The snake was a message, a very clear one meant for him. Boba knew the asp could kill with its fangs as well as blind and maim by spitting its venom. If he could get the snake to go for him instead the armor would protect him.

“Mama Kay,” the high pitched terror in Nikita's voice ripped you in two, “I don't wanna die.”

“Kark it...” Swallowing hard you got ready to do something really stupid. You had given your word to protect the kids and that was one thing you would not break. Even if their parents were long dead, you had given your word. “Drash get to the drop switch.”

Boba's helmet turned to you, gut dropping to his boots. “What are you...”

Throwing a dish rag at the snake you ran between it and Nikita. The snake hissed furiously and slithered fast as lightning forward to strike at you. “Now Drash!”

“Haar'chak!” The floor went out, sending you to the rancor pit. Boba shot the viper, spraying it with the flame thrower for good measure after. His temper flared, how could you be so foolish? Looking over at Nikita she appeared no worse for wear, Drash had her well in hand. Angrily striding across the room he barked at the Gamoreans, “Clean up this mess! And find out where that came from.”

It was dark, barely any light came down from above. You could hear Drash though, sounding more like the scared girl you had first met and less the confident young woman you knew. “Mama Kay?!”

“I'm alright,” It was a huge lie. Your leg hurt, kark it hurt so bad. It had been a longer drop than you thought and you had heard crunch on landing. This job was getting more and more hazardous to your health. “Ahhhh!”

“Raaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

“Oh dank....” looking around the dark beady eyes of the Rancor met your own. The breath froze in your lungs, body throbbing in pain as the ground vibrated with its roar.

The beast uncurled from where it slept coming to a crouch over you. It's lumbering head turning this way and that studying the new visitor. One large clawed hand came to paw roughly at your hurt leg.

“Hrrgg...” You couldn't help grunting in pain, but the large animal didn't move to harm you further, just studying you. It's large head lowering to sniff and snort, drool falling from it's large fangs. Vol had said that Rancors could be quite sweet. Reaching up to stroke the big beasts muzzle, it huffed a high pitched sound and blinked at you. “You... you like that? Ok we can... we can do that.”

“Open the cage.” Boba kept his voice low, striding into the dark space carefully. While he was confident the beast would not harm him, he did not wish to place you in further danger by startling it. He could hear the deep grunts of the Rancor's breathing, but couldn't see you. “Kaylee?”

“Down here,” it came out pained. You continue stroking and cooing at the rancor, trying to keep calm. In all honesty if your leg weren't on fire this would be infinitely enjoyable “Whose the most fearsome rancor? Such a tough looking fella, just a big sweetie aren't you? Yes you are, yes you are! The best boy aren't you.”

Boba crossed his arms over his chest tilting his helmet to the side. He wasn't sure which outweighed the other, his anger at your reckless behavior or the amusement of seeing you treat the Rancor like a massif puppy. “Miss Manu, you are a hazard to yourself.”

“I'm in no position to disagree,” Glancing to the side and giving a weak grimace you could tell the man was steamed, voice turning sheepish, “It was dumb. I know it was dumb. Please don't fire me... Gaaahh!”

The Rancor accidentally brushed your leg again sending pain shooting. Nausea rose in your throat and your breathing came in little gasps. Oh it was definitely broke.

“Alright boy, easy now go to Vol.” Boba patted the beast and directed it to where the handler stood in the corner. The beast whined and lumbered off, giving him a clear look at the damage. Boba scooped you up easily, carrying you silently up the tower. Partially he was silent to let you stew a little, you deserved that a bit for scaring him. A deeper part of him though simply wanted to absorb the feeling of you in his arms again. The way your chest rose and fell as you breathed, the soft curves of your body in his hands. How you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and neck.

“I'm sorry.” He heard you whisper.

You were toast, so freaking toast. Closing your eyes as Boba walked with you up the stairs, head laying in the crook of his neck, tears fell. It had been nice while it lasted, shouldn't have gotten used to it anyway, maybe Garsa would let you moonlight again. At least Nikita was safe and the kids were cared for, Boba would see to them even if you weren't here. All the worst thoughts running through your mind. You didn't realize at first where the big man had placed you down.

“It's going to hurt when this boot comes off,” Boba's temper had eased seeing the tear stains on your cheeks, you wouldn't even look at him just keeping your eyes down. Taking his gloves off and placing them in his helmet to the side, Boba used just the tips of his fingers to raise your head. Your lip quivered and his face softened. Giving you a ghost of a smile he gently stroked your jaw. “Who would make me tea if you left, hmm? Just have to keep you around... though I may have to take away anything sharp from the kitchen.”

Snorting at the joke you let out a shuddering breath, relief flooded your body. Giving him a weak smile and wincing as he eased the boot off. “Thank you, Boba.”

“Lay back mesh'la, this is not going to be pleasant.”

“Pain I'm used too,” A droid came over and scanned you. Boba cut into your pants-leg exposing the area. The droid gave you a shot of medication and with a few quick movements reset the limb. Even with the drugs it hurt like a mother kriffer.

“Fuuuuuck!”

“Here drink this,” Handing you a glass of whiskey he watched as you downed the amber liquid without a flinch. The droid had suggested putting you in the tank, but Boba watched as you shook your head no. He assisted in the removal of your coveralls, you wore simple small clothes beneath. The droid placed bacta wraps on your leg and a splint, finally leaving you be. He couldn't help noticing you relax when it left. “Rest now Kaylee, you're safe here.”

It would be so easy to get lost in those tigers eyes of his, to forget your place. The man was dangerous... very, very dangerous to you. Because you trusted him so readily, believed when he told you it was safe. You had seen too many dancing girls fall for the crime lords, officers and tycoons on the cruiser growing up. Even here in Mos Espa, you knew that it was a fairy tale. As you continued to hold his gaze, your brain had finally registered where it was he had brought you. The silk sheets, the quiet wind off the dunes, the warm spicy scent.

The man had placed you in his own bed.

You should run to your room this instant, broken leg or no. You felt far too much for the man to begin with but now... The seductive feeling of the soft bed beneath you as he gazed down was just too much. The slide of the material against the bared skin of your body, the way you wanted his scent to linger. Stars he had barely touched you to help get your clothes off, but you never wanted his hands to leave.

Oh, there be danger here. Shaking your head you tried to get back to reality, “I should go...”

“No.”

Boba placed a finger to your lips pausing your words and giving you a stern look. His fingers eased down your lips to your neck, watching as you swallowed hard. A faint smile tugged at his lips as his fingers finally came to press against your collar bones to make you lay back. He didn't miss as the goose flesh rose, nor your pupils dilating.

It all made sense to him now. The way you shied away, the nervousness, the little smiles. You liked him, in some small way you felt something for him. Boba relished as part of this puzzle finally fit. He would let you lead this little chase of theirs, because in the end he knew he would win. First things first though, “Rest Kaylee.”

You shivered as he placed the blankets over you, methodical and deliberately keeping eye contact. As his hand slid down the material you took hold of it. He didn't pull away, simply letting you hold his hand. Calluses and scars from a lifetime of work, a strong and even lethal grace to their dexterity. All that you could tell from the touch of his hand. Your tone was a whisper and some small part of you knew you should still run. But your heart had ever been the foolish sort and there was something there in the gruffness, the controlled tone. A sadness in his eyes that called to you. “I'm sorry if I scared you.”

“I don't frighten, cyar'ika.” He tilted his head, such a perceptive little thing. This woman so wise beyond her years. Soft yet strong, and so very sweet. A tough little cookie. He brushed his thumb affectionately over your palm before placing it on your stomach. “Close your eyes Kaylee, sleep.”

“Yes Boba.” The pain medication had been lulling you there already, but it was his deep tenor that made you obey the command. Your last thought before sleep took hold was how nicely your name fell from his lips.

Boba watched you, only for a moment to be sure that you were comfortable. Rangir, who was he trying to fool? He may as well admit that it pleased that hungry part him to see you laying in his bed. Seeing your soft body wrapped in his sheets as a faint smile curved those plush lips. Next time though it would be different, you would be here of your own choosing. Next time you would beg him to stay.

Rising he replaced his gloves and tucked his helmet under his arm. Pausing to glance down on you one more time. “Nuhoy jahaala Kaylee, jate vercopa.”

Translations:

Dral runi- Bright Soul

Cyar'ika- Sweetheart

Mesh'la- Beautiful

Haar'chak- Damn it!

Rangir- To hell with it

Nuhoy jahaala, jate vercopa- Sleep well, good dreams

Tags: @acatalystrising @pickleprickle @daimyosprincess @kimiheartblade

[babycherrycola]

I’m finally in the 70s!!!

I should’ve posted an update sooner, but life got in the way.

I’ve started doing a plan that’s been working absolute wonders for me, so I’m gonna share it with you :)

Firstly I’ll start by explaining what I used to struggle with. I used to really struggle with eating small portions. I’m a volume eater and I like having hearty meals, not just stuffing myself with low cal vegetables. I was never satisfied with portion control and calorie counting was just way too exhausting.

My second issue laid in the fact that I was never home for lunch or dinner and I ate out a lot as a result. I tried taking lunches to uni, but they all got soggy and gross by the time I wanted to actually eat them so I hated doing it. Even if I ate that lunch, I’d still feel unsatisfied and crave sugary snacks.

I also had a non-diet related problem regarding my schedule which was that I never had the time or energy to study outside of lectures. I was always rushing to get out the door in the morning and the near 4 hour total daily commute to school drained all the energy I had by the end of the day. Plus I got home at around 7-8 if I was lucky.

My new diet and schedule fixed all of those issues.

1. I started going to sleep at around 9-11 pm and waking up at 5-7 am depending on the day. This gave me plenty of time to get in my 7-8 hours and also have time to study in the morning BEFORE school. I’m definitely a morning person now that I’ve gotten into a comfortable rhythm.

2. I only eat one meal per day. I KNOW HOW THAT SOUNDS, but hear me out. I don’t restrict myself and I eat a lot of food in that one meal. I fill a big plate like so: 40% vegetables, 40% hearty high protein meal like curry or stroganoff (that I love) and 20% bread/ crackers / carbs. At the end of the meal I feel fully satisfied and energized.

3. I drink a LOT of water, tea and coffee throughout the day. I was never a tea or coffee person and I never remembered to drink water, but mow that I get hungry at around 3-4 pm and my stomach starts craving something warm, I drink a ridiculous amount of liquids. It’s really made a difference in my metabolism and I’m actually starting to like tea.

4. Don’t just sit around all day. Get a little bit of movement in. I don’t have the energy to work out on days when I know I have to study a lot, but I am planning on scheduling 2 gym days per week on days when my schedule is light. My campus is big so I do a lot of walking anyway.

5. Track your progress. I know it’s not recommended that you weigh yourself every day, but weighing myself keeps me motivated and in tune with my body on a daily basis. I have a hard time actually knowing what I look like and how big I am so having a number confirm my progress is reassuring.

6. I don’t do this every day. I eat one meal per day six days a week, but on Mondays I know it’s not realistic for me to only have one meal because my schedule is so hectic. I’m realistic about what I can handle, so if I know that a practically 24 hour fast on top of a busy day will make me cranky and fatigued, I don’t do it. Set realistic expectations for yourself and accept the consequences of them.

7. Last but not least, Have a solid reason for why you’re doing this. For me, I have multiple reasons. Number one is to prove to myself that after letting myself down so many times and quitting on so many weight loss journeys, I can actually do it. I’m doing this to teach myself discipline. I’m doing this for my health, since I am insulin resistant and fasting helps make you more insulin sensitive. I’m also doing this to feel prettier and fit into the clothes I want to wear. Keep in mind that the pain of hard work is better than the pain of disappointment. It’s a myth that a magic product or procedure will make you lose weight painlessly, weight loss is not easy for a human body and it will take resilience to lose it and keep it off. But it will be worth it if you’re doing it for the right reasons.

Let me know if you guys want to see what I eat for my one meal a day!!!

[linosbundles]

7pm || hoshi

Genres : fluff

Word count : 1.2k {1215 words}

warnings : established relationship, mentions of food

a/n : i seriously suck at this whole warnings thing. if i have to add any or if something is unnecessary please let me know 😭 i wrote this because i was inspired by the song and my recent walk to the beach but seriously. isn't 7pm just such a wonderful song 🥺🥺💗💖

Summary : just another date with your longtime boyfriend

written in reader's pov

it’s wednesday. my favourite day of the week. oh, I’m not crazy… yet. I know that it’s a day that most of the working population hates, well other than monday. but wednesday…

we chose this day for a reason, of course. the very same reason that everyone dislikes the day for. since it’s right in the middle of the week, unable to have hope for the weekend but also unable to loosen up because the week just started.

to not hate the day like the rest, and to have some motivation, every wednesday is our recharge day.

wednesday 7pm is the one moment I wait for every week. I get to see my tiger baby. well, I was forced into calling him tiger baby and then it kinda grew on me, but no, I will not admit that in front of him… getting back to the point, it’s 5:50pm right now, I’m stuck at my desk for 10 more minutes for me to clock out. all I have to do is check some data and mail it to seungkwan and I’m done.

y/n : baby y/n : babe y/n : babbbbbbeeeeeeeeeeeee y/n : babyeyeeyeyye y/n : baaaaaaaaabeyeyey tiger baby <3 : I’m assuming ur not drunk yet and ur juz missing me y/n : bingo y/n : can’t wait to see u later tiger baby <3 : same babe tiger baby <3 : i’ll pick u up at 7 y/n : luv u tiger baby <3 : luv u too tiger baby <3 : now finish up soon and leave tiger baby <3 : need to see u at 7 sharp y/n : can’t even waste a moment without me eh? tiger baby <3 : bingo y/n : not u using my “bingo” when u say it’s weird all the time tiger baby <3 : sometimes I like to flatter u y/n : right tiger baby <3 : see u soon y/n : see u luv

okay. I’ve got this.

using 7pm as my motivation yet again, I checked the data pretty quickly and mailed it too. but the thing is, I’ve mailed it to seungkwan. and he’s definitely going to be here in 3, 2, 1—“missed me already?”

rolling my eyes in the most noticeable way, i replied coldly.

“it’s a work mail, seungkwan. get over it.”

“oh come on, we all know you love me.” he said with playfully shiny eyes and smug all over his face.

as much as he was cute, he was annoying too and he was fixated that I was in love with him, despite the fact that I made it very clear that I had a boyfriend, multiple times at that.

“in your dreams.”

“at least there then.” he winked and left.

not having enough time for seungkwan’s drama, I packed up quickly and headed home, right as it ticked 6.

getting all excited for the date, I couldn’t erase the smile off my face. seems like the obvious little smile was too obvious to go unnoticed, I could feel people staring. but who cares, I have a cute boyfriend to see at 7pm.

it’s been over 2 years since we started this tradition, a bit more than 2 years since we started dating, not to mention the painful 1 year of secretly pining over each other in the name of being friends. yet I’m always excited when it’s date day.

oh no, we don’t have any special story behind how we met though, isn’t it important how special our love is instead?

we just met at vernon’s party 4 years ago. yes, nothing special. we just randomly danced together and seemed to find each other interesting and became friends.

man, little did I know that night, that he would be the love of my life.

alright, let’s put the thoughts away for a while.

tiger baby <3 : it’s 6:59 and I’m at your doorstep tiger baby <3 : open the door exactly in tiger baby <3 : 6 tiger baby <3 : 5 tiger baby <3 : 4 tiger baby <3 : 3 y/n : hi love tiger baby <3 : 2 y/n : oh tiger baby <3 : I see you luv y/n : I see you too luv

standing there, my boyfriend, my love, kwon soonyoung, handed me flowers. now that’s a surprise. he rarely buys me flowers. but these are so pretty! I love it!!

“right on time love.” he smiled brightly.

I received the flowers and returned his bright smile. “baby, thank you, I love them.”

knowing what more he needed than those words, I pulled him into a hug and gave him a small kiss on his ear.

we left for our date.

it’s usually not very grand. we just walk along the long road that leads to the beach since my house is pretty close to it.

strolling through, we also have a lot of snacks while we’re headed towards the beach and light dinner on our way back.

there’s nothing much to it but doing this, even if it’s repeated and could be boring if done alone or with someone else, since it’s with him, it feels like a new experience every time. even if it’s once every month, and it’s like the 19th time we’re doing this together, still feels new.

“so, how was your day?” he asked.

I started ranting about my whole day and then it was my turn to listen to him rant. and once we were done with that, we had some light talks about random topics or about our friends or our future while eating those snacks.

but once we reach the beach, we switch our silent modes on.

literally, on our phones yes, but also our mouths. we don’t talk there for half an hour, it’s just us, laying down on the sand, listening to our beach playlist and the waves, and looking at the sky.

we’ve done this so many times but I don’t think I’ve asked him what he thinks about during that half an hour. I spend the whole 30 minutes thinking about how pretty he is and how much I love him and how grateful I am to have this wonderful person in my life, as the love of my life.

by the end of the 30 minutes, we both get sleepy so we leave for dinner.

then we go on a long walk to ease the digestion.

once back at home, we get ready to sleep.

we can’t afford to stay up late when we’re both working adults. having an evening off every week is fairytale-like enough for our economy.

snuggling into the sheets he wrapped his arms around me, “good night love.” he whispered in my ear and hugged me tighter.

“it would be a goodnight if I could breathe babe.” I joked, making him loosen his grip a bit.

it wasn’t even a few minutes after that I already find him asleep.

the way his eyes were closed and his hair had fallen towards his sides as he laid down next to me, the way his breath was also a nice sound for me, oh how hopelessly in love I was with him. I smiled and whispered into his ears,

“good night tiger baby.”

[americasass81]

A Not So Chance Encounter

{Warnings:- 18+for the following - Brief Mentions of Pregnancy, Mental and Emotional Neglect, Oral, Use of Pet Names, Fingering, Teasing, Manipulation, Minor Stalking, Kidnapping and Possible Stockholm Syndrome, Minor Partner Smut at the end.}

Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason.

Pairing:- Bucky Barnes x reader

Author’s Note 1:- As only the second fic I ever wrote and posted, I have since learned so much about writing and have finally found the time to edit this and hopefully make it more inclusive.

Author’s Note 2:- The end result of this fic is a knight in shining armor Bucky.  Hope everyone who reads this enjoys.

Author’s Note 3:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics​ for creating and giving me permission to use the included Bucky divider.

Run-Through:- Lurking in the shadows, a silent observer as life went on around you, you took your pleasure in quiet moments before slinking back to the safety of the reclusive world you were familiar with. Delighting in activities that allowed you to heal from your once turbulent life, little did you know that waiting for your meal in the farthest corner of a familiar restaurant would change your new life in ways you never expected.

Total Word Count:- 10,651

Stretching that Monday morning with the summer sun streaming through your bedroom window, you rose quickly and after a refreshing shower, began to prepare for the day ahead.  Having gone through hell the past few months, well years really, today had been the one thing that kept you hanging on … your little oasis in the desert.  Having spent most of your young life dealing with family issues and your own mental fragility, this day’s outing at the start of life in your new home was a balm to the turmoil wreaking havoc on your once miserable life.

Having spent a lifetime being mocked, ridiculed and treated like garbage by those who were supposed to love you unconditionally, you often wondered how you had managed to remain the functioning adult you saw every time you looked in the mirror.  As it was, the whole of you seemed to be much stronger than the pieces they had tried to destroy with their bitterness and neglect and having finally managed to get away from your toxic family and the pain they had caused you, your one desire now was to rebuild your life and become the fun-loving, carefree individual you knew was hidden deep down beneath the years of silent suffering.

Hoping one day to be strong enough and happy enough to allow someone special to hold your heart and trust them with your hopes and dreams for the future, right now your plan was basically simple.  Deciding on a month’s break where the only requirement was that you do whatever made you happy, your weekend had consisted of nothing more taxing than unboxing the bare essentials to get your home and body working in harmony.  After that, you figured a little fun was in order before you faced the monumental task of unboxing your life and setting up a routine that kept you relaxed, happy and healthy.

Putting on some music while getting dressed, you checked your emails before heading downstairs to collect the morning post.  Sorting through each piece and disposing of the rubbish accordingly, you then went about preparing your usual breakfast.  Sitting down and enjoying the peace afforded by finally having a place to call your own, you took out your phone and booked your ticket for the movie you were dying to see as you ate your cereal.  Once done, you rang your doctor to confirm your appointment before washing up your bowl and heading out.

Living so close to all the amenities necessary to live a comfortable life, the greatest treasure you always felt was the one that greeted you this day as you stepped outside.  With a beautiful sun shining down on you, accompanied by a light breeze, you were able to set off walking at a leisurely pace to your first engagement of the day.

Your appointment with the doctor, though simply routine, was one you had been putting off until you were no longer allowed to.  Not having a particular love of the medical profession, yet also not hating them, you simply had other things you’d rather be doing with your time while also not looking for problems that didn’t exist. After a brisk fifteen minute walk, you arrived at your destination, went through the now usual yearly routine and once getting a clean bill of health said your goodbyes and took your leave.

Walking out the door while looking at your watch, you realized that even with the distance between here and the movie theater you still had an hour and a half to kill which meant you had plenty of time for some quiet reflection at your favorite spot.  Walking through its arched entrance ten minutes later, you found the place relatively empty while marveling as always at the beautiful wooden benches and medieval light fixtures scattered throughout this peaceful space.

Stopping by the plant area just to the left of the main entrance to purchase a plant for those who had no one to remember them, you then headed off towards the mini waterfall at the very back and kneeling down to add your flower to the many glorious blossoms already growing there, offered up a thanks to anyone listening for finally affording you the peace you had long been missing in young life.  Staying in quiet reflection until it was once again time to move on, you exited this area through the back wall arch before heading through the local park which would bring you out directly in front of your main destination.

Though not your usual action flick, you felt like something light and the movie in question definitely qualified.  Based around four senior women who held a book club every week for thirty years, hi-jinx and comedy is what was being offered and that is exactly what the stellar cast and refreshing script provided.  Enjoying yourself more than you had in a long time, you left the theater almost two hours later feeling in high spirits and ready for a bite to eat.

Walking the short distance to a nearby hotel whose restaurant served some of your favorite meals at a reasonable price, you found your usual spot in a discreet corner and waited patiently for a staff member to arrive to take your order.  Taking out your phone to do some reading to pass the time, you didn’t register how much time was slipping by without anyone coming to deal with you or that someone important had just entered the restaurant.

So engrossed were you in your own world that you failed to notice the commotion that was being stirred up all around you by the new arrival.  This all changed quickly however, when a shadow fell across your table and you looked up to see a waiter standing before you empty handed.  Saving your place in the book before setting your phone aside, nothing in the world could prepare you for the complete lack of professionalism that followed when the man before you opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry Ma'am, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We have a very important guest staying in the hotel who has just stopped by for a quiet meal and requires a table.” he said, before looking over in the direction of the newcomer who had just stopped talking to some child at a nearby table.  Unable to tell much about who this V.I.P. was, you quickly looked back towards the waiter when he resumed speaking again.

“Though management is aware that you are a regular here, you are alone and since we are fully booked we are prepared to offer you a full complimentary meal here whenever it suits you, if you would just kindly and discreetly vacate this table today.”  Then as if to drive home his request, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a gift token which he extended towards you.  This gesture proved useless however when the stranger in question finally arrived, caught hold of the waiter’s arm and lowered it to his side before turning his icy gaze on you.

“Miss,” he said, looking you over while reaching out his hand to you. “My name is Bucky Barnes.  If you’re not waiting for someone, would it be too bold of me to ask if I might join you?” he inquired as all eyes in the restaurant fell on your location. Knowing who you were dealing with, and thus all too aware of his reputation, you looked between the two men standing before you, before shyly nodding your acceptance.

Letting go of your hand and taking the seat opposite you, Bucky turned his disapproving glare on the waiter and took the gift token from him before speaking in a low tone that still showed it’s authority. “Perhaps since this young lady has yet to be served, you might be so kind as to order us two lamb dinners with your finest bottle of red wine.”  Glancing over at you while the waiter wrote down the order, Bucky smiled slightly at your innocent and perplexed expression before continuing.  "Then for dessert, you can bring us the cheesecake and put it on my bill.“

As the waiter walked away you finally found your voice, even if there was a slight tremor to it.  "Thank you Mister Barnes, but you don’t have to pay for my meal.”  This whole situation seemed unreal to you and despite trying to be upbeat, a lifetime of mental mistreatment, had left you with a serious case of trust issues.

“Nonsense,” he said, smiling across the table at you before continuing, “it’s the least I can do since this lot seem to be lacking basic manners, and please call me Bucky.”

“Well again, thank you Bucky.” you replied while trying to ignore the smile that graced his features at his name rolling off your lips, as well as the obvious stares from the people all around you.  This time round it didn’t take long for your food and wine to arrive and though you tried to decline the drink, Bucky wasn’t having any of it.  Slowly enjoying both the wonderful food and good company, you failed to notice the time slipping by or the fact that slowly but surely the restaurant had started to empty out.

You were enjoying yourself so much in fact, that by the time the waiter delivered the dessert, you had divulged your whole life story to Bucky while learning that he was relaxing here for two weeks after a mission before returning back to the Avengers Compound.  You also had to admit, if only to yourself, that not being a frequent drinker, the wine, now almost two bottles, had kind of gone to your head.  But perhaps, looking back, that was part of Bucky’s plan.  Having finished up your food, you prepared to stand up so as to finally take your leave, only for Bucky to take your hand and apply some light pressure before speaking.  "Any chance you’d consider hanging out and keeping me company?  I don’t know anyone here and it seemed like we were having a nice time.“

Looking over at him as he laced his fingers with yours, you couldn’t understand the warm feeling traveling throughout your body and as your eyes locked with his you were shocked to find yourself giving in to his request.  "Okay, I guess I can spare an extra hour or two.  What did you have in mind?”

“Well, if you really are willing, maybe we could head out and walk off the meal.” he suggested while smiling over at you.  Agreeing easily as he helped you with your coat, you headed towards the doors unaware of the possessive look that crossed Bucky’s face as he finished up his drink before catching up to you.

Slipping into place beside you and matching his stride to yours, you only made it from the hotel to the town plaza before Bucky had slipped your hand into his.  Looking between your laced fingers and his gorgeous face, the noticeably raised eyebrow indicated that while he was expecting you to challenge him, he had no intention of letting go.  This perception was further rammed home, when ten minutes later, as you entered the park, Bucky increased his hold as you tried to pull your hand away.

Stopping by a drink vendor just inside the park’s main gate, you became a bit more irritated when Bucky chose and paid for both your drinks before handing one to you.  Then taking your hand again, he walked you further into the park until you reached the fountain in the center. Sitting you down on the bench opposite, you sipped your drink in silence until Bucky finally spoke.  "You’ve become awfully quiet Y/N, is everything alright?“

Looking over at him while suspecting his intentions, you chose your words carefully before answering.  "Sorry, I’m just not used to having someone paying for my food and drinks.  Or … ”

“Holding your hand?” he interrupted questioningly.  "You’ve never been with a guy, have you?“ he quickly added before you had a chance to answer.  Looking straight ahead towards the fountain and focusing on the sound emanating from it, you tried to let the tranquility calm your nerves as Bucky continued.  "It’s okay, you don’t have to answer.  You also have nothing to be nervous about.  I simply wanted to treat you.”

“But why and what about the hand holding?” you asked, tearing your gaze away from the fountain to finally look at him.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” he inquired, taking a sip from his own drink.

“I guess not.  It’s just weird considering we only met about three hours ago.” you stated while hoping not to offend him, though you really couldn’t say why.

“I totally understand.” he said, reaching out to remove a small bug from your shoulder.  "But I guess if I’m being honest, it’s the result of when I was brought up and all I’ve seen of this world.  It seems with all the things this new time has given us, basic human decency is the price we’ve paid.“ Totally agreeing and foolishly relaxing at his words, in time you would look back on this fateful day and curse yourself for not listening to the voice in your head that screamed at you in this moment to run.  As it was, you simply tried to relax and returned to your drink.

Enjoying some further walking, while answering any questions Bucky had about the area, you suddenly realized how late it had become when upon exiting the park, you were greeted with night time revelers and the glow of the street lights.  Not sure how to extricate yourself from a famous Avenger and former Hydra assassin, this decision was taken out of your hands, when the Winter Soldier’s voice brought you back to the present time.  "Would you allow me to walk you home or perhaps you could stay with me.  Only for safety reasons, of course.” he quickly added, having seen the deer-in-headlights look that clouded your features.

No longer thrilled with spending time with James Buchanan Barnes, but damn sure you didn’t want him knowing where you lived, you grudgingly agreed to spending the night, while making plans to leave the next morning.  Surprisingly chipper at your acquiescence, Bucky again took hold of your hand as both of you headed back towards his hotel. Once safely there in the confines of his rather spacious suite, Bucky seated you at the table while presenting the sandwiches and drinks that he had ordered upon entering the lobby.

Realizing how hungry you were, you graciously tucked into them while you tried not to think about the sleeping arrangements.  Once the food was eaten and cleared away however, this task proved impossible when Bucky took your hand and led you towards the bedroom.  Staring at the large opulent bed before you, all the ways things could go horribly wrong flashed before your eyes.  So preoccupied was Bucky with closing, and though you failed to notice, locking the doors that you were the first to bring up the giant elephant in the room.

“Okay so I’m just gonna use the facilities and then settle down on the couch for the night.  Hope you sleep well.” you added, heading for the bathroom.  You were stopped in your tracks however when Bucky turned to face you and uttered the one word that sent a shiver down your spine.  

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, looking over at him as he walked towards the side of the bed.

“You’re sleeping in the bed.  My Ma didn’t raise me to allow a lady to sleep on a couch.  No matter how comfortable it looks.”

Smiling slightly at the reference to his mother and the obvious affection it seemed he still held for her, your mind quickly brought you back to the present problem.  "That’s sweet, really.  But let’s be honest, I’ll fit better on the couch than you and Avengers deserve to sleep in proper beds.“

Raising an eyebrow at your inference that his job made him somehow better than you, Bucky easily turned your argument on its head while throwing another curve ball your way.  "Actually, unless at HQ, Avengers are used to bunking down wherever the opportunity presents itself.  Besides there is the other option where we each take a side like two reasonable adults.  What do you say?”

Looking at the huge bed once more and realizing that he probably wasn’t going to give up this particular idea, you still tried to think of a way out.  "I guess we could.  If you don’t mind me sleeping with my clothes on?“ you asked.

"Nonsense. Use your bra and panties.  I promise to behave myself.” he smirked, hoping to put you at ease.

It had the opposite effect however and you couldn’t hide the embarrassment that crept through you at your next statement. “That’s a problem since I’m not wearing any.”

“Not wearing any what?” he inquired, though you suspected he knew exactly what you were referring to and simply wanted you to hear the words pass you lips.

“Bra and panties.” you replied tersely, looking everywhere but at him as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Oh not to worry doll, how about I supply you with a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in?”  Shocked by both his suggestion and the use of a pet name, you thought through your options and deciding it was the most favorable choice, grudgingly agreed.

“Great.” he said, heading for his suitcase and returning to you with a royal blue top and black boxers.  "Here you go,“ he added, handing you the garments before continuing, "now do you like to sleep on the left or the right?”

“I always sleep alone,” you foolishly admitted, “so it doesn’t really matter too much.”

Smiling broadly as both your hands held his clothes, he quickly and easily settled the situation.  "Fine then, I’ll take the right side by the window, since I’m pretty much set up there anyway. That leaves you on the left side by the bathroom.“

"Cool.” you said, fully taking the clothes now and heading for said bathroom.  "Do you mind if I go first?“ you asked, indicating what you were up to.

"Oh of course not.  Ladies first.” he insisted, as you walked away and closed the door.  Locking it quickly and quietly, you did what you needed to do while wondering how you had gotten yourself into whatever this situation was as well as contemplating how you were going to get out of it.  Little did you know how hard this was going to be however with a world class assassin in the next room thrilled that something he always wanted was finally within his grasp.

Exiting the bathroom finally, you were stopped in your tracks by the sight of an almost naked James Buchanan Barnes standing before you in nothing but the same black boxers as you now wore.  Gazing at the sculpted back in front of you, you were still standing staring at him when he turned around and acknowledged your presence.  "Oh hey doll, you done in there?“ he asked while ignoring the fact that you had been very clearly checking him out.

"Wh-what?” you stammered, flustered that you had been caught all but ogling him.

Coming to stand in front of you, Bucky reached out and lifting your chin to look into your eyes, repeated his earlier question.  "I asked if you were finished in the bathroom.“

"Sorry, of course.  It’s all yours.” you stated as he released you and headed off to use the facilities.  Trying to clear your head, you quickly headed towards the bed and burying yourself under the comforter, hoped to be asleep before Bucky came back.

Returning from the bathroom to find you snuggled in bed with your eyes closed, Bucky smiled to himself as he headed towards his side of the bed. Pulling back the covers and gazing down at your body wrapped in his clothes, he couldn’t hide the tightening in his boxers or the urge to turn you on your back and pound into you until you screamed his name for everyone in the hotel to hear.  He fought the urge however, knowing that the first time he had you, it would be with your consent.

Laying down next to you, back to back, he smirked when your heartbeat betrayed you and told him sleep was so far evading you.  Making sure to keep as respectful a distance between you that the bed would allow, Bucky settled himself in and waited patiently until your soft breathing and slower heartbeat indicated sleep had finally come calling.  Then exiting the bed, he made a start on his plan to claim you.

Waking the next morning from one of the most restful sleeps you could ever remember having, all sense of peace went out the window once your body acknowledged the new position it found itself in.  Resting comfortably against a warm, strong body, you somehow woke up on the opposite side of the bed with your head on Bucky’s flesh arm while his metal hand was resting on your pussy, having been shoved down your, or rather his, boxers.  Wanting so badly to be out of this situation, but not wanting to wake the man who now held you in his grasp, you willed yourself to calm down.  Fate however had other ideas.

Just as you tried to think of a possible way out, Bucky brought his lips to your ear and kissing just below it tenderly, whispered words of comfort to you.  "Good morning Y/N, glad to see you slept well.  How about you remain calm please, I promise you’re perfectly safe.“ he tried to reassure you though his words had little effect as your heart rate increased.  Bringing his flesh hand around your front to rest on your breast, your squirming attempts to get away from him, only resulted in his holding you tighter until you felt something poking your ass, which caused you to stop completely.

"Oh come on doll, don’t stop now, things were just getting good.” he moaned as he squeezed down on your breast and pussy.  Moaning yourself as he lazily pinched your nipple through his top, while running his metal fingers through your folds, you were both shocked and confused when he chuckled softly.  "Guess who’s wet, Y/N?  Tell me what you’d like me to do.  How can I satisfy my girl, hmmm?“

"I’m not your girl, now please let me go so I may use the toilet.” you said forcefully while trying to fight the fear crawling around your insides.  Kissing your neck some more as his fingers continued their dance, he grudgingly released you, before picking up the phone to order breakfast.

Heading to the bathroom, you hurriedly did what you needed to while you tried to figure out what someone like you had done to capture the attention of a world famous Avenger.  Finally unable to quiet the thoughts running riot in your head, you headed back out to see what awaited you.

Stepping foot back in the bedroom, you were surprised to find Bucky simply sitting on the bed, looking at nothing in particular. Approaching him cautiously, you sat down next to him carefully while worrying about what to do when he failed to acknowledge your presence.  Slowly reaching out your hand and placing it on his, he gave a slight jerk when he felt your touch and you called his name.  Though he didn’t pull away, you could see the light in his eyes was a little dimmed and remembering who exactly sat next to you, your heart broke a little as you recognized another lost and frightened soul.  "Bucky,“ you repeated in the same gentle tone, "is everything okay?”

“What?” he questioned, as if only now fully realizing you were there. “Oh yeah, sorry.  Just got stuck in my own head a bit. Are you doing alright, doll?  Do you need anything?”

Smiling a bit that he could be so concerned about you while obviously dealing with his own issues, you reached your other hand up and carefully pushed some hair behind his ear to clear the view of his face. “I’m all good, thank you.  Did you want to maybe use the bathroom before breakfast?” you gently inquired as you didn’t want him to think you were giving orders.

Cautiously looking down at the hand still resting on his metal one, his gaze then fell on you and he was a little taken aback to see nothing but concern.  For as long as he could remember fear had been the predominant look he had seen on the faces of humanity, yet even with the way the morning started and your obvious distrust, your ability to see the good in people still shone through like a glorious sunrise.  Coming back to himself, he smiled at you before taking both your hands in his and kissed them tenderly as he spoke. “Yeah, I won’t be too long.  Breakfast will be here shortly.  I hope cereal is okay?”

“Cereal is just fine.  It’s actually what I usually eat anyway.” you replied, getting up to allow him to go about his morning routine.  This proved a tad difficult however when his grip held firm though gentle and you looked at him a bit worried until you saw that he was still in control of himself.

“I’m sorry if how you woke up this morning scared you.  I’m sure it was a lot to wake up to.” he sighed, as if half afraid to mention it.

“It’s okay really.  If you’d like we can maybe talk about it later, as you said breakfast will be here shortly.” you reminded him while hoping your tone remained reassuring.

Releasing you as he nodded his head in agreement, he finally headed for the bathroom, while you sat down on the couch, laced up your boots and tried not to think about the rollercoaster the last twenty-four hours had been.

Returning quickly from the bathroom, dressed in blue jeans and a red henley, Bucky led you out to the living area just in time for breakfast to be delivered.  Pulling out your chair like the perfect gentleman he was, Bucky opened the door for the waiter before joining you at the table.  As the trolley with your food was wheeled it, you were further surprised to see a bouquet of roses and lilies accompanying the breakfast.  Placing all the necessary food items on the table, the waiter then handed the flowers to you before leaving the room.

Though your mind swirled with all the possible implications and the old you would have played the part of a good little girl, this new, home-owning you was determined to voice the question currently swirling in your brain.  "Mr. Barnes, am I missing something here?“ you asked, raising the flowers slightly in order to point out what you were referencing.

"Y/N please, I have asked you to call me Bucky,” he reminded you and reached for the cereal while continuing to speak, “and what exactly is the issue?”

“The issue is that after not even twenty-four hours together, you’re now buying me flowers.  Not to mention the incident.” you called it, not wanting to add the word groping.  "This gives me the impression that you think we’re on a date or something.“

Stalling what he was doing, while not quite looking at you, your eyes widened and the bouquet fell from your hand as your suspicions seemed to bloom into existence in the silence that followed.

"Oh god, I’m right.  Aren’t I?” you asked, trying to keep the terror out of your voice.  Rising from the table when he still refused to answer and heading for the door, you just now realized he was sitting between your escape option when his metal arm shot out, wrapped around your waist and pulled you easily onto his waiting lap.  Screaming and thrashing as loud and as hard as you could, you had to admit defeat, when his metal arm held you tighter while his other hand clamped itself firmly over your mouth and nose.

“Y/N,” he said, speaking so softly by your ear that you could almost picture yourself in the arms of his alter ego, “I need you to calm down so we can have a nice, quiet breakfast.  Then we can clear up this whole misunderstanding.  Nod if you accept.”

Fighting a bit harder, you finally had to agree when he tightened his grip once more and you felt like you were going to pass out.  Happy with your reluctant acceptance, he rose from his chair and after depositing you back by your own empty bowl, added cereal to it before heading to the door and to your complete horror, locked it. Slipping the key card back into his jeans, he then sat back down at the table and continued to prepare his breakfast as if nothing had happened.

Still trying to wrap your head around what had just transpired, you figured dealing with him might be a damn sight easier with some food in your stomach, and so as he began eating, you gave in and tucked into your own breakfast.  Eating in silence, while glancing at Bucky every now and then, you hoped that a chance meeting and a simple act of kindness hadn’t meant you traded one nightmare for another.

Once breakfast was finally over, Bucky cleared up the table and pushed the trolley out into the hall before placing the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door.  Coming back in and once again locking it, he looked at your scared form waiting at the table and sighed heavily as he thought through how best to handle the situation.  

Going to the fridge to get you some water, he brought it over to the table and kneeling down before you, requested that you drink some. Doing as he asked, you downed the whole bottle as he gently reached out his hand to stroke your cheek.  Feeling somewhat less anxious, you couldn’t understand how his touch calmed your fears and you silently cursed yourself as he finally spoke.  "Let’s go into the other room and talk, shall we?  If memory serves, there's a couch there you seemed to think was comfortable enough to sleep on.“

Rising from the floor and taking your hand as you silently nodded, Bucky led you back to the bedroom and sat both of you on said couch.  Sighing again as you scooted away from him to the far end, he gave you a few minutes to get comfortable before trying to alleviate your concerns. "Y/N, tell me what’s bothering you and we’ll figure out how to fix it.” he said, finding it difficult not to reach out and pull you onto his lap.

Seething that he even pretended not to know what was bothering you, you tried to control your temper so as not to provoke his darker side. “What’s bothering me is you acting like we’re a couple. Paying for everything, the flowers, the groping and don’t even think I didn’t see you locking the door just now.  Give me a straight answer, will you allow me to leave here?” you asked, looking directly at him.

“You want a straight answer, fine.  No.” he replied, and his answer actually took you by surprise.  Never in your wildest dreams did you expect him to so blatantly shoot you down and for a few seconds you were actually lost for words.  "Now answer a simple question for me, why did you agree to keep me company?“ he asked, and you realized he had you there.

"Well I … ” you stammered, trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t land you in even deeper shit.

“I’m waiting, doll.” he smirked, seeing quite plainly how flustered you had become.  "Is it possible that it’s your feelings for me and not my actions that scares you?  Has life treated you so poorly, that the slightest bit of affection from someone is something you’re now conditioned to pull away from?“ Moving so close to you that he placed his hand behind you on the back of the couch while you felt his warm breath on your skin, you knew his ability to focus on your heartbeat would give away your secret.

Finally swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked at Bucky and figured the truth was the only option left.  "I agreed because like you said we were enjoying ourselves and I didn’t mind keeping you company for a brief time.  However, I honestly don’t know why you want to keep me around.”

Knowing that he had been right and that you spoke the truth, Bucky’s heart broke that someone as precious as you, thought so little of yourself.  Somewhat afraid to startle you, he slowly brought his hand down to your shoulder before speaking again.  "I want you with me because you possess a kindness sorely lacking in most people.  After all you actually treat me like a human being.“

Never having been used to hearing anything good said about you, you stared around the room, unwilling to look at him.  Bucky however was having none of it and throwing caution to the wind, pulled you securely against his side.  "Doll, you don’t get a lot of compliments, do you?” he asked, reaching for your chin and forcing you to look at him.  Gazing into his soulful blue eyes, you answered “no” so low that only the silence of the room and his super soldier hearing enabled him to hear you.  At last understanding why you were so hesitant of him and your feelings, he now realized he needed to take things slow with you.  Placing a tender kiss on your forehead, he ignored your shocked expression before moving on.  "Okay, so accepting that you promised to keep me company, what would you like to do today?“

Feeling yourself relax somewhat, you thought about what your answer would reveal, but figured being who he was and the friends he had, he could probably always find you anyways.  "I think I’d like to swing by my house and grab a change of clothes.  Would you by any chance be any good at climbing rock walls?” you asked and was greeted with a glorious smile that helped pound harder on the walls you so carefully erected around your heart.

“Ah beautiful girl, I can climb a rock wall better and faster than anyone.” he smirked and as he helped you up from the couch, you couldn’t help laughing at how confident he sounded or the child-like enthusiasm plastered across his features.

“Okay then mister, let’s see what you’ve got.” you said as you released your hand from his and headed towards the doors.

Feeling a bit more relaxed as Bucky unlocked the door, both of you headed downstairs and set off walking towards your house.  Talking somewhat along the way about various topics, things started to get noticeably quieter the closer you got to home.  Sinking back into your own head, you thought of all the possible questions he might have, as well as the implications of willingly opening your home to the Winter Soldier.

Recognizing the signs that you were heading down a rabbit hole of doubt, Bucky reached out and lacing his fingers with yours, squeezed your hand gently while giving you a reassuring smile.  Smiling back at him, you finally reached the two story building you called home and as you made your way through the modest front yard, you wondered what this individual who had seen so much of the world would make of your piece of it.

Unlocking the front porch and ushering Bucky inside, you had no idea what exactly he was thinking when the first question he asked was regarding the composition of the structure.  Explaining that the ground floor consisted of a nicely sized, three bedroom house while the first floor boasted five spacious bedrooms with en suites, you didn’t see the gears turning in his head as you showed him to the lounge on your way to the master bedroom.

Working quickly to change your clothes, while also remembering to slip on some underwear this time, you actually forgot you had a highly skilled assassin for company and so was unaware that your naked form moving around your room was being secretly observed.

Running his hand lazily over his crotch as he watched from the hall, the blue lingerie set adorning your body teased him just so, and it took every ounce of his strength not to throw open the door and take you right then and there.  As it was, he instead tried to focus on what it would be like to see this house filled with laughter and littered with toys and these thoughts, coupled with you pulling on jeans and a plain white t-shirt, slowly brought his raging horniness under control.

Finally dressed, you tossed a few days provisions into a bag before heading into the rest of the house to retrieve the super soldier. Finding him out in the small back yard, you wondered what he was thinking as he turned to face you.  "This is a really nice place you’ve got here.  I don’t imagine you’ve had it long though?“ he questioned and you wondered how someone could know so little and yet so much about a person they had just met.

"What makes you say that?” you inquired while hoping to get some insight into him.

“Well I kinda peeked about upstairs.  That’s a lot of boxes for someone living here.” he smirked and you found yourself laughing along with him.

“Wow great detective skills there.  I guess you really don’t miss anything when it’s right in front of your nose.  I only recently moved in and have kinda just been enjoying my freedom, I guess.”

“Hey now, don’t get cheeky.  I’d hate to have to punish you before we have some fun.” he said, coming to stand in front of you and playfully swatting your ass.

Feeling a mild tingling sensation shoot through your core, your mind wondered how he could have such an effect on your emotions.  Reigning in these thoughts and feelings, you placed your bag over your shoulder and headed back into the house.  Retrieving your jacket, while making sure Bucky was following you, both of you exited the door and locking up asked him if he wanted to walk to the adventure center or if you should take your car.

Reaching out to take your bag, like you he threw it over his left shoulder before extending out his right hand to you.  "How about we walk?“ he suggested, allowing you to lead the way when you placed your hand on his.  "After all, the weather is glorious and it’s definitely one way to limber up.” he added, winking at you suggestively.

Ignoring the innuendo and the tingling still lingering between your thighs, half an hour later your spirits were high as you led Bucky through the lobby of the adventure center to the rock wall which you luckily enough had a standing booking for every Tuesday.

Stepping into the harness and pulling it tightly, you were both touched and annoyed when Bucky came to stand beside you and checked that everything was in order.  "Hey Barnes, just what do you think you’re doing?“ you asked as he then attached the rope.

"Just making sure everything is secure.  This is precious cargo and we don’t want anything happening to you.” he replied as his hands lingered on your shoulders.

“Well as sweet as that gesture is, I have been doing this for a few years now,” you pointed out as you released yourself from his hold to make sure your shoes were still laced up securely, “and I’ve been quite safe.  Thank you very much.”

“Sorry.” he said, as he played with your fingers before both of you turned towards the wall.  Realizing you couldn’t stay mad at him for some bizarre reason, you gently told him it was okay before suggesting both of you get stuck in.  Not sure how you were going to match up to an Avenger, you gave him a tentative smile, took a deep breath and began.

Taking your time and zoning out as if on your own, you matched Bucky hold for hold and was surprised to see he hadn’t skyrocketed to the top. Unsure whether he was taking it easy on you or if he was simply just enjoying himself, he reached the top about two feet before you and waiting until you joined him, stretched out his hand to take yours before asking if you were okay.

Smiling broadly at him, you assured him everything was fine before both of you gently kicked off from the wall and eased yourselves back down to the ground.  Having once again gotten there first, your feet never touched the floor however as Bucky caught you easily in his powerful arms and even you had to admit it actually felt comforting. Releasing you a few seconds later, both of you agreed that since Bucky didn’t have a change of clothes with him, it would be easier and nicer to shower back at the hotel and so headed off there to clean up.  Again walking hand in hand, you laughed and chatted about the other things you liked to do and the next thing you knew, your bag, along with your jacket, had joined his on the bedroom floor.

Getting both of you some water bottles while you sat on the couch and began removing your shoes, you stopped halfway through when Bucky stood next to you and offered you a bottle.  Thanking him and drinking it down quickly as he joined you on the couch, you looked at him dubiously at the words that then left his mouth.   “So sweet girl, tell me, where do you stand on environmental protection?”

“I beg your pardon.  What does that have to do with anything?” you asked, wondering what he was getting at as he scooted closer to you.

“Well,” he grinned, toying with the hem of your t-shirt, “we both need a shower and I know for a fact the one in there will easily accommodate two.” he replied while raising an eyebrow towards the bathroom.

As his meaning finally settled in your brain, you tried rising to your feet to put as much distance between you two as possible, only to find your t-shirt held firmly in his strong grasp.  "Bucky let me go,“ you said forcefully as your hands went to your back to try and release his hold.  "I am not going to shower with you.  Ever.”

“Not even if I make it worth your while.” he whispered by your ear as he ran his metal hand back and forth along your thigh.  Unsure whether or not he knew the effect he had on you, your protests died down as his hand continued to stroke and squeeze your thigh while his lips latched onto your neck and began kissing and sucking as if his life depended on it.

Biting down particularly hard at the same time his metal hand ripped open your jeans and his cool fingers slipped inside to make contact with your clit, the moans that now left your lips were music to his ears. Releasing your t-shirt while his other hand and lips continued to work their magic, Bucky, with what you assumed was all the skill and strength of a trained assassin, moved both of you to the bed, while never breaking contact with your neck or pussy.  Placing you upon it gently, his flesh hand slipped inside your t-shirt and easily unhooked your bra before looking into your face to see lust-filled eyes staring back at him.

Bending down tentatively to capture your lips with his, you couldn’t hide the moan that escaped when, between your legs a long, cool digit breached your folds and worked its way along your channel.  Taking advantage of this opening, Bucky slipped his tongue into your waiting mouth and explored every inch before adding another finger to your now aching core.  Working these fingers in and out at a torturously slow pace, while his tongue now warred with yours, you were slammed back to reality when his lips once more returned to your ear and his next words broke the spell he had been casting. “Did you know when you dressed that blue is my absolute favorite color?”

Realizing with blinding clarity that he had earlier watched you dress back at your house, you somehow took him by surprise and shoved him off you before heading for the bathroom and locking the door.  Sitting on the toilet as you tried to calm yourself down, the fire he lit between your legs threatened to engulf you and to make matters worse, your brain was quick to point out that even if you showered, all your clean clothes were in the same room as the horny super soldier assassin.

Cursing the feelings he was able to create within you, you reluctantly opened the door to find Bucky on the bed where you left him, stroking his crotch while sucking on the fingers that mere moments ago were working on sending you into orbit.  Biting back a moan as he acknowledged your presence and his blue orbs locked with yours, all rational thought abandoned you at his next words.  "Hey doll, let me be the first to tell you, you taste divine?“

Deciding that later you would blame what happened next and the resulting consequences on hormones, you sprinted across the room, crashed into his strong chest and brought your lips down on his as your fingers sought out his hair.  Latching on as he suddenly got with the program, Bucky kissed you back just as passionately as his hands helped settle you better on his powerful body.

Feeling the hardness nestled against your mound as his hands pushed your hips against his, you grudgingly pulled back as your lungs screamed for air.  Looking down on his startled form, you placed your hands against his chest and you tried to get your breathing under control as he smirked up at you.  "Not that I’m complaining, but what has changed in the last few minutes.”

“My head reminded me that I’m supposed to be having fun.” you squealed out as Bucky’s hands continued to squeeze your ass.

“Such a pretty thoughtful head.” he then replied, before flipping you over onto your back and bringing his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna show you just how much fun we can have doll.” he continued as he began slowly moving down your body.  Grabbing hold of your t-shirt as you wiggled beneath him, Bucky quickly divested you of your top, as his eyes got a close up look at the bra he had glimpsed earlier.

“Beautiful.” he breathed out as his palms came to rest on your mounds while his lips explored your now exposed stomach.  Continuing to squirm around as his tongue, lips and facial hair tickled your flesh, all rational thought went out the window again when Bucky looked up at you before grabbing hold of your jeans and peeling them off your legs.

Now standing up and looking down at you, he winked cheekily at you before reaching for the hem of his henley and pulling it over his head. Leaning up on your elbows, you licked your lips as his glorious abs came into view.  Noticing your heated gaze, Bucky maintained eye contact with you as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his pants and removed them easily.

Now stalking towards you in nothing but his boxers, he playfully jumped on the bed next to you before placing you gently upon him. “Like what you see Y/N?” he asked, and something told you that the use of your name and the lowering of his chin meant he was somewhat unsure of your answer.

Knowing what he had lived through while trying to understand the insecurity it obviously fostered in him, you reached for his chin and kissed him tenderly before speaking.  "Absolutely Bucky.“ you said, smiling down at him.  "But keep in mind, I don’t exactly have anything to compare it to.” you smirked.

Laughing gently as he pulled you down on top of him for a tender kiss, he smiled as he thought how lucky he was to have found you. Holding you tight as you nestled against his chest, he reluctantly asked the question he was afraid to get an answer to.  "Doll, are you really sure you want to do this?  Truth please.“

Thinking seriously about this, you reluctantly turned away from him, slightly afraid to answer after the previous exchange.

"Y/N?” he questioned firmly, drawing you back to your current predicament.

“I do, but … ” you stopped and licked your lips which were suddenly dry.  "but I had rather hoped my first time would be in my own bed.  Are you mad at me?“ you asked quietly, still unable to look at him.

"Oh Doll, you’re killing me.” he said, as he sat up while now holding you on his lap.  "Of course I’m not mad at you. I too would prefer your first time to be in our bed.“ he continued, though you were too concerned with his reaction to pay much attention to what he was actually saying.  "Come on you,” he grinned, “let’s get ourselves cleaned up and we’ll head downstairs for dinner.  How does that sound?”

“Fantastic.” you replied.  "But are you really sure you don’t mind?“

"Absolutely doll.” he kissed you reassuringly and standing up, carried you towards the bathroom as his plan to ingratiate himself into every part of your life was unfolding nicely.

Depositing you in the bathroom as he turned on the shower, you sat on the toilet and wondered what had gotten into you when you reached over and grabbed Bucky’s ass.  Looking back at you as you rose to your feet, his train of thought became interrupted when you stood before him and uttered in your sweetest sing-song voice, “Care to help a girl out?”

Staring at you as his hands reached out to remove your panties, Bucky peeled them off carefully before pulling you towards him.  "Doll you’re making it very difficult for me to be a gentleman.  Are you sure you haven’t done this kind of thing before?“ he questioned as his hands traveled up to remove your bra and his lips latched onto yours.

Moaning into the kiss as he divested you of your bra thus leaving you completely naked in front of him, you nodded your head as you leaned into his fit body and worked your hands down the back of his boxers. Massaging his ass cheeks while he placed open mouth kisses along your neck and collar bones, he bit down particularly hard, causing you to wince, when your wandering hands pinched his ass harder than he thought possible.

"Fuck doll, knock it off, or I’ll take you right here on this floor.” he exclaimed while jerking his hips towards you so you could feel exactly what your ministrations were doing to him.  Staring up at him playfully, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slowly rolling them down his legs, waited on bended knees for him to step out of them.  Then tossing them aside, like he’d done with your lingerie, you leaned forward and ran your tongue along his shaft as you stood back up.

Groaning at the feelings you were creating within him and surprised by the level of control both of you were displaying, he quickly came to his senses and opening the shower door, ushered both of you inside. Washing as quickly as possible so as to avoid any further temptation, Bucky now understood why it was a terrible idea for both of you to share the shower.  Smirking over at him as you bent over to wash your legs, Bucky swore that first chance he got you were going to be tied to your bed and teased until an apology passed your lips. As it was, his only option at the present time was to stand under the showerhead, turn on the cold water and allow the frigid temperature to cool the inferno raging in his loins.

Finally clean, both of you exited the shower and returning to the bedroom, dressed in silence before heading downstairs.  Having had the good sense to book a table, Bucky placed his hand protectively on the small of your back as the waiter escorted you to the discrete booth where this whole rollercoaster had started.  Sitting down and ordering your meals, you were painfully aware once again of all the stares directed your way.  Taking your hand and squeezing gently, Bucky’s reassurance eased your nervousness and with his help the rest of dinner was enjoyed in your own personal bubble. Once the meal was over, a game of cards back in his room, also your room now, found you sitting in front of him with nothing but your lingerie while he had only lost his socks, shoes and top.

“You’re not very good at this, are you doll?” Bucky asked, gazing across at your now almost naked form.

“Maybe I’m better than you think,” you smirked back “and this was just the quickest and easiest way to get undressed for bed.”

“Ah doll, if that was what you wanted, I would have only been too happy to oblige.” he replied and neither of you could hide the grins that graced your features.  Finally agreeing that a glorious bed was calling, both of you availed yourselves of the facilities before Bucky returned to find you staring at the bed.

“Y/N doll, is everything alright?” he inquired as his arms engulfed your smaller frame and your head fell back against his chest.

“I was just wondering what the chances are that morning will find me once again wrapped in your arms.” you said and you could feel the rumble in his chest as his laughter gently filled your ears.

“Doll I think we both know the chances are extremely high.  Why do you ask?”

“Well in that case,” you said, releasing yourself from his embrace, “I might as well save you the trouble and sleep by the window now,” you continued, before turning around, kissing him tenderly and walking to the opposite side of the bed.  Lying down and tucking yourself against his body, Bucky made good on his promise to hold you through the night and once again a restful night’s sleep easily claimed you.

Waking refreshed, but alone the next morning, your sense of disappointment surprised you as you not only wondered where Bucky was but how he had now become something you missed when he wasn’t there.  Sitting up in bed, you were just about to get up and look for him, when the bathroom door opening announced his presence.  Looking sleepily over at him, he quickly joined you back in bed before placing his arms around you and kissing your hair.  "Everything alright sweet girl?“

"Kinda,” you replied quietly without looking at him.

Paying attention in a way that only someone with his life experience could, Bucky lifted your chin and noticed quite easily the concerned look clouding your features.  "Tell me what’s worrying you babygirl.“

"I … um … ” you hesitated, wondering how he would react and where this particular decision would lead.  "I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to check out of this hotel this morning?“

"I see,” he answered, not quite expecting this response, “and if I do that, where exactly might I stay for the next week and a half, hmm?”

Laying your head back down on his chest, his steady breathing helped calm you as the next words left your lips.  "Well, there’s more than enough room at my house.“ you quietly replied, though you knew he heard every word.

Staying completely still as your words sunk in, you looked up in time to see sheer wonderment light up his features as the implications of your offer hit home.  "Wait, just so there’s no confusion here, are you inviting me to stay at your place for the rest of my visit?” he asked while sitting you up and placing you on his powerful legs.

“Yes and possibly the rest of your life.” you quickly blurted out before you could stop yourself, though you knew his work wouldn’t allow him to accept.

“Could you repeat that?” Bucky asked, pulling your hands away from your face as you realized with blinding stupidity what you had said.

“Nuh uh.  You know what I said, please don’t make me repeat it.” you begged, but he wasn’t having any of it.  Flipping you easily onto your back, Bucky proceeded to use his lips and tongue to find every ticklish spot on your body and skillfully ravished each and every one until you could no longer stand the torture. “Alright, alright.  Enough.” you cried out as tears leaked from your eyes and you tried to get your breathing under control.  "I said you could stay for the rest of your life.“

"That’s what I thought you said, doll.” Bucky replied as he placed soft kisses on your lips before moving against your ear.  "And just whose bed might I be sleeping in, hmm?“ he whispered as a burst of heat shot through your body and settled firmly between your legs.  Unable to focus on anything but his skillful mouth now pleasuring your pulse point, you let out a moan when his teeth bit down on your shoulder to get your attention.  "I asked a question, sweetie.”

“Mine.” you breathlessly replied, and you swore the smile that graced his features could light up a room all on its own.  Kissing you once more, he lay back down beside you and pulling you flush against his body, asked if you were really sure this was what you wanted. “Absolutely.  I know we haven’t known each other very long, but with you I feel safe and cherished.  It’s a feeling I’d like to hold onto.”

Delighted that his plan was working out, having actually arrived in the area the previous week, he happily agreed to take you up on your offer. Then setting the alarm on his phone to wake you in two hours, he wrapped his arms tightly around you and lulled you back to sleep.

Waking fifteen minutes before his alarm went off, Bucky looked down on your sleeping form and hoped you never had to find out that it was Natasha who had first seen you in this same hotel a few months previous. Having been the day you had finally purchased your new home, she watched from another table as you ordered your food and ate in peace while keeping to yourself.  Not knowing why, she followed you that day and finding you relaxing on a nearby beach, all she could picture was Bucky sitting next to you as the wave crashed around you.  She knew at that moment, the love her friend was looking for, was right in front of her.

Returning back to the present and turning off the alarm, he went about sending a quick email to Sam, Steve and Nat to inform them of developments, before turning his attention back to you.  In time his friends would welcome you into the fold, but for now, his main goal was to help you blossom into the self-confident goddess he knew you could be.  Sliding his metal arm along your thigh, he caught hold of your panties and pulled before letting it snap back gently against your folds.  Doing this a few more times while bringing his lips down on your bra covered nipples, he eventually woke you up with two minutes to spare.

Finding a wet sensation between your legs, not to mention his drool all over your bra, you tried to be pissed at him, but could only manage mild irritation.  Joining him for a quick shower, both of you dressed quickly before heading around the suite and gathering up every stitch of your belongings.  Once all the things were packed away, you once again threw your bag over your shoulder and taking Bucky’s offered hand, headed downstairs to the reception desk.  Closing out his room account while reserving your now usual booth for Monday and Thursday nights at seven o'clock, you and Bucky then left the hotel and set off towards your house.

Planning on enjoying whatever the next week and a half brought, you had no idea as you slid the key into the front door, that Bucky fully intended taking you up on your offer.  Filling your days with all your favorite activities, domesticity and unbelievable sex, as it was, seated in your booth in an unusually empty restaurant almost four months later, your slightly plump stomach hidden beneath a stylish top, the reality struck you instantly as Bucky dropped to one knee and opening a small box, asked you to marry him.

Knowing now that this was his plan all along and you had simply been played and maneuvered to this point, you held out your hand and said “yes” as he slipped the ring on your finger before placing his lips tenderly against yours and then moved down to kiss your growing bump.  Finally having everything he wanted, he sat back down and ordered dessert as he watched you staring at the beautiful sapphire that now rested on your left hand.

“What are you thinking there doll?” he asked as you tore your eyes away from the stone and focused instead at the mundane pattern on the table tile.

“I was just thinking about what happens when the novelty of all this wears off.” you replied, gesturing to both the ring and your current condition without meeting his gaze.

Waiting for the waiter who had just arrived with your desserts to leave, Bucky got up and sitting down beside you, tenderly placed one arm around you, before pulling you close and resting the other on the life growing inside you.  "You two, my love are not a novelty and I never want you to think like that again.“ he lovingly reassured you.  "You are the most important things in my life and I will spend forever proving that to you.  Now how about we finish our dessert and I will take you upstairs where this all began and remind you just how much you mean to me.”

Realizing as his words sunk in, that he had not only booked out the whole restaurant, but also your original suite for the night, a light giddiness eased your worries somewhat as you easily accepted his offer.  Finishing your desserts and heading upstairs with Bucky’s arm protectively around your waist, the familiar setting once he opened the door and led you to the bedroom, brought back all the wonderful feelings and memories that led to where you were now … pregnant, naked and absolutely worshipped by a man you knew you never wanted to live without.  Thus moaning and writhing beneath him as he gently thrust into your sweat slicked body, you let your fears melt away on the orgasms he pulled from you before he joined you in a post orgasmic bliss of tender kisses, cuddles and sleep filled with joyous dreams of things to come.