#and him saying yeah! when he’s only met him briefly once before! I know he means it in a ‘kid my age who I’ve met and get along with’ way

[blue-eli]

Ink October day 27: Seldom

Not often; infrequently or rarely.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Sitting on Toji's lap, watching TV together as he knocks back a couple beers. He keeps the bottle nestled between your legs when he's not sipping on it, his arm resting on your upper thigh area while his other hand mindlessly rubs and grabs at your tummy over your shirt. Every once in a while he leans in close to press a kiss to your temple and checks in on you. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, but he's pretty well behaved for being intoxicated, you think.

You don't know if he's occasionally rubbing the bottle against your crotch on purpose or if it's something he's unknowingly doing. Maybe he's fidgeting with it to give his hand something to do. You scoot back, away from the bottle, just incase he isn't doing it on purpose.

He stills the movement of his hand when you shift in his lap, moving away from where he keeps his bottle. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asks, his warm breath fanning against your ear. His free hand moves down to squeeze your inner thigh, the joint of his thumb grazing your pelvis.

"No, you're okay," you respond, putting your hand on his, turning briefly to smile at him before facing the TV again.

Toji progressively moved the bottle so that it ended up back between your thighs, the body of it rubbing up against you again, causing you to jolt at the sensation.

"What's wrong, pretty?" he murmurs, into your ear, his lips curled into a devilish smirk.

"The bottle..." you mumble, coy about addressing what's had your firm attention for a while now.

He peeks down at the evidence, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looks at the way the bottle is pushed snug up against your cunt.

"You're dirty, mama," he teases, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest. "You're liking it, aren't you?"

"What? You're the one trying to get me off with your-"

"Shh..." once again you're met with a whiff of the alcohol lingering on his breath. You can taste remnants of it through the sloppy, wet kisses he steals from you. "You're liking it, aren't you?" He repeats, grinning at your flustered expression. "Look at her, look at her," he says, which only makes your cheeks burn even more, when he laughs, mockingly. "You are."

You sigh. He may be drunk, but he's not wrong.

"Say it, baby," he purrs, into your neck. "Say it and i'll make you cum sooo hard." He teases you with a rub of the bottle against your clothed clit.

"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, feeling pathetic for giving in to his game. "Fine. I liked it. It felt good. Is that what you wanna hear?"

"Fuck yeah. Wanna make my pretty girl cum in her shorts," he says, immediately rubbing the body of the bottle against your crotch.

"I-If i'm dirty..." you release a sharp breath. "Then you're a pervert."

"Mhm. All for you, sweetheart." He palms at your chest over your tank top, squeezing while moving his hand in circles. He can feel your stiffened nipples through the thin material. He takes turns rolling the clothed buds between fingers to make sure that they stay stiff, but also because he knows how turned on you get when he plays with your breasts. "Such a dirty girl," he says, sultrily, into your ear. "Letting me get you off with a beer bottle. Little freak." You arch off his chest, in his lap, a short barrage of whimpers reaching his ears. He pulls you back into him, his arm firm over your chest. "Doesn't take away from how pretty you are." His voice is so deep, you can feel it in your guts.

"Toji-"

"No, it fuckin' doesn't," he growls, into your ear. "'S why i've always got my hands on you, tryna fuck like some filthy dog. Mmm... baby, just can't help myself around you. I'm not gonna stop. Can't do it."

You whimper, writhing against him as he continues to grind the bottle against your cunt. His rambling shouldn't be as hot as it is, but god, you don't want him to shut up. It's fueling how close you are to cumming because of how he maneuvers the stupid bottle.

"You wet for me? Soaked?"

"Fuck- Yes, Toji," you moan, hands gripping at his thighs.

He hums, content with your response. "Yeah? Gonna cum?" His hand goes beneath your shirt to feel your bare skin on it. He drives his palm up your torso, towards your chest, his fingertips meeting your left nipple, rubbing until it's stiffened like before.

"Mhm," you nod. "Please... Please!"

"Such a loud, needy little thing. I can feel your heat making its way up the bottle." He laughs, again, like he's making fun of you for being so turned on for his perverse actions. Like he wasn't the one who started this. Scarred lips attach to the nape of your neck, kissing gently like he's apologizing for being mean. "Cum for me, baby," he says, speeding up the movement of the bottle against your clit. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, and your body instantly reacts.

"Oh fuck, T-Toji, fuck, oh my god," you cry out, falling into the void of pleasure produced by this unorthodox object. You trap the bottle between your thighs and grind against it, greedily taking control of your pleasure. Toji holds the bottle still and just watches you, his tired eyes absorbing every one of your movements and expressions as you shamelessly ride out your entire orgasm.

"Fuck..." you whimper, eyes shut as your hips stutter to a halt.

He pulls his hand out of your shirt, entirely speechless for a few seconds. You didn't even notice, too far into your post orgasm bliss.

Toji sighs, feeling as tired as you because of the alcohol. He turns the TV off and takes the bottle out from between your thighs, setting it down on the ground before putting your dazed self into a more comfortable position to sleep in—curled up against his chest. "You're so hot, baby... Too bad I can't fuck you like this," he mumbles, tiredly.

"Mhm," you hum, already dozing off. Toji lays his head back on the couch cushion and shuts his eyes. In less than a minute, he falls asleep, too.

[themultifanshipper]

Poker? I hardly know her!

You and Oscar stared at Lando, who was peeling his shirt off before anyone had even put any chips on the table.

Maybe Lando didn't understand the rules of poker after all...

Warnings: Not quite proofread I just needed to get it out of my drafts before people started bringing pitchforks to my house, some of this is insane, i'm warning you, brief poker jargon, fucking on a jet, oral sex, male and female recieving AND giving, canonically bisexual landoscar, a bit of a humiliation kink, strip poker turns dirty very quickly, bad dirty talk, cum, Lando is a TEASE and a WHORE, finger sucking (inspired by something someone actually did to me once)

“Lando why are you taking your shirt off?” Oscar frowned in confusion.

“This is strip poker. You bet your clothes, don't you?” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You'd known Lando a long time, and he was a bit of a dim bulb (affectionate) sometimes.

Oscar you'd only met when he became Lando's teammate, but you got along like a house on fire, and despite you not knowing each other very well, one of your favourite bonding activities was making fun of Lando.

“Lando!” you laughed “that's not how it works. You bet your clothes but you only take them off if you lose”

He looked offended at the implication that he didn't already know that and tried to defend himself, but he had a slight tint of red quickly spreading over his cheeks.

“I knew that! I just think it's better to put my bets on the table is all...”

You and Oscar dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Okay whatever you say, it's not like you'd be keeping it on long anyway” you teased and winked at Oscar.

“Oh fuck off!” he gave you the middle finger before picking up his cards that Oscar had been dealing. “and since when do you play poker? You’ve never mentioned it to me...”

Oscar shrugged, picking up his own cards.

“You know what boarding school is like. There's nothing to do except play poker, and ... uhh...” he trailed off and you looked at him questioningly.

“Well, you know. It's boring” he said quickly, his cheeks going slightly pink as he avoided your gaze.

Lando narrowed his eyes at him. “Yeah, I do know what boarding school is like. But we never played poker”

“Okay what did you play then mister wise guy?” Oscar's tone was off, like he was trying to accuse Lando of something.

Lando's face went blank, and you could tell he was going through the options one by one, not wanting to say any of them out loud.

“I can't remember?” he tried.

Oscar scoffed in disbelief and you decided to intervene.

“Right, are we playing then?”

“Gladly” they both muttered in sync.

You weren't naive. You knew exactly what boys got up to in boarding schools.

You'd been to an all girls boarding school yourself, and had your fair share of... experiences.

But both of them seemed to be a bit embarrassed about theirs as they settled in their seats like big birds that had just gotten their feathers ruffled.

The game went just about as well as expected.

Lando ended up in his boxers after only 3 rounds, while you and Oscar hadn't taken a single item of clothing off.

His nipples pebbled in the cool conditioned air, and you could see goosebumps erupting all over his skin.

Your eyes scanned his thighs briefly and you gulped. They were thick, and he was in tight black boxers that really didn’t leave much to the imagination.

As enticing as the sight was, it didn't help your concentration.

Oscar was once again dealing cards, and you noticed him side-eyeing Lando a couple of times.

“Are you sure you're not cold, mate?”

Lando shivered but didn't relent in his stubbornness.

“No I'm fine. Besides, I am determined to beat at least one of you”

“You'll be fully naked long before that happens” Oscar chuckled but it sounded hollow.

You also forced out a laugh. Lando naked was the last thing you needed right now.

But with an ace and a jack in your hand, how could you possibly lose?

And you were right. Lando could go all in if he wanted to (and he did) but on the table were a king, a queen, and a ten. And he was a terrible bluffer, he was way too cocky.

Oscar had already folded so it was up to you to get Lando's pants off.

You put your cards down face up.

“Sorry mate, I've got a straight” you said in mock- sympathy. “Someone's getting naked and it ain't me”.

You smirked at him.

“Not so fast” Lando tutted at you and showed his cards.

He also had an ace and a jack.

But they were the same colour as the cards on the fucking table. All spades.

He had a royal fucking flush. The highest hand possible.

Oscar gasped softly.

“Well well well, looks like someone else is taking their shirt off!”

You felt your face heat up immediately.

You only had a T-shirt on.

As in, you only had a T-shirt on.

“Ummm...” you flushed and picked at the edge of the table. “about that...”

You looked at Oscar but quickly averted your gaze when your eyes met.

“What's the matter?” he asked curiously.

“let’s just say that if I take my shirt off, Lando won't be the only one with his tits out”

Comprehension dawned on their faces and they both went fully red.

It all became suddenly very real. It was all fun and games until one of had to actually do it.

“Uh- well you don't have to, you can uhh” Oscar stuttered his way through an excuse “you can take your pants off or- or something. Or like just not do it. It's just a game. No pressure to actually get naked”

You looked at Lando and he smirked.

“If you're not uncomfortable with it you can do it if you want. We're all adults here, we've all seen boobs before, no biggie”

You hesitated. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever you're comfortable with!” his voice was weirdly high pitched but he nodded reassuringly.

You worked up the courage and grabbed the bottom of you shirt, slowly lifting it up over your head.

When your vision became unobstructed again, Oscar was staring at a spot on the ceiling, and the Lando's smirk had been wiped clean off his face.

Despite being your best friend for a long time, he'd never seen you topless, even though (and he would never admit this out loud) he'd fantasized about it many times.

You could tell he was struggling to maintain eye contact with you, his eyes glazing over slightly.

You chuckled nervously.

“It's okay you can look. Like you said they're just tits, right?”

Oscar glanced at them quickly, then did a double take and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly and looked away again.

Lando’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but his words died in his throat as he also just stared unblinkingly.

It was objectively quite funny how you'd rendered them both utterly speechless.

After a good thirty seconds though, it started getting a bit too weird.

“Okay this is getting creepy now, do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No!” they answered wayyy too quickly. “Its fine we're just a bit surprised is all”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay horndogs, shall we get back to it, then?”

They nodded almost absentmindedly, and Lando dealt the cards.

“I'm now determined to get Lando naked to take some of the attention off of me, now” you joked lightly and the other two laughed.

The atmosphere became a bit less charged over the course of the next round, but Oscar was seemingly very much off his game suddenly, because he lost two in a row.

In the name of fairness, he took his pants off, and his black hoodie, so he was still left in a T-shirt that thankfully hid the raging boner he was currently trying to make go down with sheer force of will.

He had an almost naked Lando inches away on his right, and a magnificent pair of breasts in front of him.

How was he supposed to concentrate in these conditions? He was living a bisexual's wet dream.

But he was determined to win, so he dealt the cards.

Lando was getting a bit antsy. He was already pretty turned on by the sight of you, but now, he couldn't stop staring at Oscar's thighs.

They were so thick. He wanted to touch them. Maybe give them a lick and a bite.

His fingers twitched on his lap, where he was trying his best to hide the ever growing problem in his underwear, that was unfortunately not covered by a T-shirt.

But he wanted to touch Oscar's thighs. He wanted to feel the thick muscles under his large hands.

“You doing okay there, guys?” you asked.

The two men in front of you were unconsciously squirming in their seats, doing their best (and failing) to not check each other out.

“Yeah, i'll start at 200” Oscar said, taking a single chip from his enormous pile.

It wasn't his turn, but it didn't matter, none of you were truly focusing on the game right now.

“I'll go all in” Lando said, voice cracking.

Oscar sucked in a breath.

“You sure you want to do that? You've only got one chip left”

“Absolutely” the older man said defiantly, his eyes dark as he stared at you.

A shiver ran down your spine. He was going to lose, you could feel it. He was going to lose and he was going to get naked.

“I'll fold” you muttered.

It was all between Oscar and Lando, now.

“I guess it's all in then”

The atmosphere was tense once again as Lando showed his cards first.

Full house. There was no way Oscar hadn't been bluffing.

“I think you're gonna need to take your shirt off mate” he tried to sound cocky but it wasn't very convincing.

A slow smirk took over Oscar's features, and he grinned evilly at Lando.

He slapped his cards down, face up, and the colour drained from Lando's face.

“Four of a kind. Mate”

You glanced down at Lando's boxers.

There was a small wet patch forming at the front.

Looks like being humiliated was getting him going.

You decided to try and save his dignity, but you knew Oscar had also noticed, if the way he was currently looking at Lando like he wanted to eat him, was any indication.

“You don't have to Lando, if you don't want to”

But his mind seemed made up and he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers.

“No it's fine, a bet is bet” he was very red in the face, but true to his word he pulled his underwear off and let it drop to the floor under the table.

You didn't look. You swear you didn't look.

“You can look guys” Lando said, you could hear the cockiness dripping from his words. He knew what he looked like naked.

“Nope, I'm good” you replied. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, nah I'm good. Shall we keep going?” he asked you with a forced smile.

“Yep, deal the cards, then”

Oscar picked up the cards and Lando whined.

“Wait, I wanna keep playing too” he sounded so pathetic. It made your thighs clench together.

And Oscar noticed.

“Lando you don't have anything left to wager. What are you going to bet? Your skin?” he mocked, but Lando didn't miss a beat.

“I’ve got a mouth. And I don't have a gag reflex”

Your jaw dropped and Oscar choked on his spit.

“Jesus, Lando” you breathed.

But the silence that followed was deafening as everyone seemed to be thinking about it.

You looked at Oscar, who looked at Lando, who looked back at you defiantly.

Well, it seemed this game was taking a turn. But you weren't complaining, and neither was Oscar.

“okay” you and Oscar said at the same time.

He dealt the cards, and you had a particularly shit hand so you folded, almost dissapointed that you wouldn't be winning Lando's mouth.

Lando refused to fold, despite having a shit hand as well, so he lost, naturally.

“So uhh... you want to uhm-“ Oscar gestured vaguely in front of him.

You took pity on Oscar. “You going to put your mouth to good use?” you translated for him, and Lando nodded.

“Yup” he chirped, and promptly dropped under the table. He was so eager, you were starting to think he'd planned this all along, and was losing on purpose.

But no, he wasn't that manipulative.

You could barely see what was going on but Lando dragged Oscar's underwear down and groaned.

Then it was Oscar's turn to let out a pathetic little noise as Lando's head sank downwards.

“Lando, fuck-“ he squeezed his eyes shut, the sudden heat of Lando's mouth overwhelming him. “Your mouth, Jesus Christ”

The sight was quite erotic, Oscar fingers threading through Lando's hair as the obscene sounds sounds of his mouth working Oscar's cock filled the cabin.

Oscar looked down at him with a furrowed brow and his mouth open in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You certainly couldn't. Oscar had always seemed quite reserved to you, yet here he was, getting deepthroated by your friend, in front of you.

“God, yeah. Take it. Good boy” he lifted his hips to meet Lando's mouth and Lando moaned wantonly around him.

One of Lando's feet knocked into yours under the table, making you look down.

You gasped in shock. Not at how fucking round and peachy his ass looked, although that was worth noting, no, what turned your world on its axis was the fact that Lando was wearing socks.

The absolute whore.

Turns out he was that manipulative.

“Oscar!” You called, and he looked back up at you with lidded eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Lando's still wearing his fucking socks!”

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he looked down to where Lando's face was red and covered in drool and tears already.

“Lando...” he let out a shuddery moan “If you wanted us to treat you like a little slut, all you had to do was ask.” He cooed, stroking Lando's tears away.

The older man suddenly did something with his tongue that made Oscar throw his head back and tighten his hold in Lando's hair.

“Christ Lando, where did you lean to do that?” he panted, and Lando pulled off of him for a second to reply.

“Boarding school” he rasped, voice hoarse.

You and Oscar chuckled breathlessly. Of course, stupid question, really.

It didn't take Oscar very long to reach his end with how Lando was swallowing around him, throat tightening rythmically.

You were very wet. Rubbing your thighs together wasn't quite enough so you pulled down your own pants and underwear and slid a hand down your body.

The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. You spread your thighs, which caught Oscar's attention, and he gasped and unexpectedly came with a shout down Lando's throat.

Lando, the whore, swallowed every last drop.

His hair was a mess and he turned around, wondering what Oscar was staring so intently at.

The sight of your legs propped up on the table and your fingers pumping in and out of you as your cunt drooled onto the seat made his mouth go very dry.

He crawled over to you under the table and pulled your hand away.

His hungry gaze made your thighs clench, but his large hands came to hold them open as the flat of his tongue licked a long stripe up your soaked folds.

Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair, like Oscar had, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

“Pull it” Oscar said and you glanced at him before doing as he said.

You tugged sharply and the reaction was immediate.

The moan that came from Lando's mouth was downright pornographic, and you grinned, pushing his head down to where you were dripping onto the seat.

He wasted no time lapping up every drop and soon he slid a finger inside you, and then a second one, crooking them upwards and making you see stars.

Turns out Lando wasn't just good with his mouth, his hands were also a goddamn gift to humanity.

By the time you'd stopped shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Oscar was hard again and languidly stroking himself at the sight of you.

Lando stood up, his back cracking after being hunched over for so long.

You properly took him in for the first time. His cock was big, bigger than you'd expected, and his thighs were covered in what you assumed was precum.

You instinctively wrapped a hand around him and swiped your thumb over his tip.

He hissed and batted your hand away.

“I want to see you two fuck” he said, as if that wasn't a totally insane thing to say.

You looked at Oscar, who didn't look opposed to the idea, then back up at Lando.

“What about you?”

He grinned at you mischievously.

“I'm going to watch. And then I'm going to come on those lovely tits of yours”

You blinked up at him and he bent down, sliding a hand under your jaw to tilt your head up.

He stopped, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke.

“It does hurt a bit. But I really, really want to see my teammate fuck my best friend.” He hooked his thumb over your teeth to press on your tongue, opening up your mouth for him.

“And besides...” he continued “I like it when it hurts”

He pulled away, leaving you completely breathless and more soaked than you'd ever been in your life.

He helped you lie down on the table, and Oscar spread your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your slick covered thighs.

He slid himself through your folds, rubbing your clit and you whined pathetically.

He decided not to tease you too much, and slid home in one go, knocking the wind out of you.

You all moaned at the slick sounds coming from where you and Oscar were joined, and he quickly picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours.

Lando may have been good with his mouth and hands, but my god, Oscar knew what to do with his hips. Your g-spot didn’t stand a chance.

His abs flexed with every expert roll of his hips, one of his hands planting itself next to your head to hold himself up, the other wrapping around one of your thighs to pull you back against his thrusts.

Whatever poker chips were left on the table were digging into your back but you could barely feel them, you were high on the feeling of Oscar splitting you open on his cock.

Lando couldn't help himself, he turned your head to the side and tapped your lips with his pointer finger.

“Open up, darling. I want to see what you look like with a mouth full of cock”

Yes the line was pretty cheesy, but you stuck your tongue out anyway, and he grinned as he slid his tip along it. He shuddered at the stimulation, and gave an experimental shallow thrust into your mouth.

“Such a good girl... like you were made for it weren't you? Getting stuffed full of us” his fingers danced along your collarbones and you shuddered at the touch.

“So responsive as well...” he looked at your breasts, heaving and bouncing with the force of Oscar's thrusts. He pinched a nipple harshly and you cried out, voice muffled by his cock. “Would you believe me if I told I've dreamt about these quite a bit...”

You rolled your eyes and gave him the middle finger, but he just grabbed your hand and stuck said finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks at the lewd action, and then he put a second finger in his mouth and shoved them all the way back.

You were going to combust on the spot.

When he pulled his mouth off it with an obscene pop, he looked down at you condescendingly, your mouth still firmly wrapped around his leaking cock.

“Why don't you put those fingers to better use, and make yourself come with them”

You did as you were told and pressed them to your clit, rubbing very slow circles.

Oscar was losing his sanity watching the two of you interact. The bickering, and acting as if he wasn't there, was making him hornier than anything and his hips stuttered as he felt the beginnings of an orgasm creeping up on him.

“Oh come on” Lando drawled, picking up the pace of his own hips “You can do better than that”

You rubbed faster, matching the rythm of his thrusts, and very soon you were thrown over the edge of extasy, back arching and toes curling as you clenched around Oscar.

Lando desperately wanted to hear your pretty moans so he pulled out and finished himself off by hand, on your tits, as promised.

Oscar collapsed on top of you, groaning into your neck as his hips stuttered to a halt, and you could already feel his cum seeping out of you onto the table.

You panted into the now stifling air of the cabin, wondering how the hell you got to this point in your friendship.

Oscar lifted himself off you, and glanced at Lando's cum now smeared over the both of you.

He leaned down and licked a stripe up one of your breasts, over a nipple which made you gasp, and then pulled you in for a filthy kiss.

Fuck it was good. Oscar was a really good kisser apparently. The taste of Lando just added to the depravity of the scene.

Lando felt a tad jealous at that moment. He'd lusted over you for years, and he hadn't even kissed you yet.

You and Oscar parted for breath and you saw the look on Lando's face.

“Oh for god's sake, come here!” you made grabby hands at him and he gladly leant down, capturing your lips in a passion filled embrace, his hands going to cup your face as he deepened it.

The cleanup was a nightmare, but you couldn't walk off the plane naked and covered in cum, so you managed.

You did the best you could with bottles of water and some towels, before getting dressed again, just as the pilot announced he was beginning his descent.

“Well what did we learn today, kids?” you said cheerfully once the three of you were on solid ground “Boarding schools teach you very important life lessons, and Lando-“ you slapped his chest playfully “is much better at poker than he lets on!”

The three of you giggled like children, rolling your suitcases on the tarmac of Nice airport, not hearing the pilot mumbling to himself behind you.

“And I learned today that private jet cabins are no where near soundproof....”

Taglist: @teamnovalak

[brunchable]

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 [ 3 ]

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Game of Cat and Mouse. Bucky being stubborn as shit. Summary: Things have turned awkward. You and Bucky hasn't spoken with each other for a few days now. But is the much needed space making things better or worse? A/N: Sorry this took so long lmao. My boy got sick and needed my undivided attention my poor baby but he's better now thank god. A/N: I honestly don't know how to top-up the previous parts but shit, I need them to connect to a deeper level first before jumping into full on smut okay? maybe in the next part. The song sums up the whole fic to be honest lol.

You’d become a master at memorizing Bucky’s schedule, knowing exactly when to leave your apartment to avoid any chance of running into him. But lately, it seemed like Bucky had developed the same strategy, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his presence around the building had become increasingly scarce. It was almost as if he was avoiding you instead.

Today, though, you decided to switch things up by taking the stairs. Sure, it was three flights down, but anything was better than the awkward tension of waiting for the elevator and possibly bumping into him. You clung to the faint hope that the odds would work in your favor, that the stairwell would be empty and uneventful.

But as you descended, the sound of footsteps echoed from below, growing louder with every step. Your stomach flipped, an irrational hope bubbling up before you could quash it. Maybe it’s not him, you thought, though deep down, you already knew better.

Rounding the corner, your heart sank and raced all at once. There he was—Bucky, just a few steps below you, pausing mid-step with his hand gripping the railing. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His expression shifted, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by something guarded, his jaw tightening as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh,” you breathed, your voice softer than you’d intended. “Hi.”

His lips pressed into a tight line before he offered a stiff nod. “Hey,” he replied, his voice low, carefully neutral.

You stared at each other for a beat too long, the air between you thick with unsaid words. He looked almost annoyed—not at you, but at the situation, as if running into you had thrown him off his game. And maybe it had, because for the first time, it wasn’t you avoiding him. It was him avoiding you.

“So…taking the stairs now?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed a hint of tension, a wall firmly in place.

You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your own ears. “Yeah, um… decided to switch things up. Exercise, you know.”

He nodded once, his grip tightening briefly on the railing before loosening again. “Right. Exercise.”

Another awkward silence settled over you, the sound of distant voices from above faintly filling the void. You shifted on the step, clutching the railing a little too tightly, your mind scrambling for something to say—something that wouldn’t make things worse. But before you could speak, Bucky cleared his throat and took a step to the side, making way for you to pass.

“Alright,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll… see you around.”

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, hesitating for a moment before you stepped past him. “See you.”

As you descended the stairs, your pulse pounded in your ears, each step feeling heavier than the last. You risked a glance back, only to find him already climbing upward, his shoulders tense, his head down. The image lingered in your mind, the sight of him retreating, the weight of his silence pressing down on you like a stone.

You reached the bottom landing, gripping the railing as you let out a slow breath. Part of you wanted to turn around, to call after him. But the words stayed stuck in your throat, tangled up with your own doubts and fears.

If he didn’t want to talk, you wouldn’t force him. But that didn’t make the ache in your chest any easier to bear.

× × × ×

You arrived at work, your mood sour and your thoughts tangled up in that awkward encounter with Bucky on the stairs. The usual morning chatter of the office greeted you. Trying to focus, you went to your desk, arranging your things in a futile attempt to bring some order to your day.

But then you heard them—Trish and Amy, huddled at the corner near the coffee machine, voices low but still clear enough to reach you.

“I just don’t get it,” Trish was saying. “It’s been days, and there’s still no new uploads from SergeantBarnes. Maybe he’s got a new project or something?”

“Or maybe he’s seeing someone?” Amy added with a conspiratorial tone. “I mean, think about it. He’s been off the grid lately. That’s got ‘new fling’ written all over it.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to block out their conversation. It was the last thing you wanted to hear today, and every word just stoked the frustration simmering inside you. You took a deep breath, attempting to rein in your annoyance, but they just kept going, their words grating at you.

“Honestly, it’s like he’s gone quiet for no reason,” Trish went on, sounding genuinely disappointed. “What am I supposed to watch while I’m waiting for Dan to finish his gaming marathons?”

“Is that all you two talk about?”

You couldn’t help it; something inside you snapped. Before you knew it, you turned around, your voice sharper than you intended.

Both Trish and Amy blinked in surprise, their expressions shifting from confusion to embarrassment. You continued, unable to stop yourself now that you’d started. 

“You both have partners, for crying out loud. Do you really need to spend every second gossiping about some guy online?”

They exchanged glances, clearly taken aback. “Jeez, sorry,” Trish muttered, looking both defensive and a little hurt. “We didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It is when we’re supposed to be working,” you replied, more irritated than you’d intended. “Maybe keep the fan talk out of the office? Or, I don’t know, find a hobby that doesn’t involve obsessing over someone else’s life?”

Silence fell as they looked at you, wide-eyed and a bit stunned. Realizing how harsh you’d sounded, you took a step back, immediately feeling a pang of regret. But the frustration from this morning was still fresh, and you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize just yet. Instead, you turned back to your desk, jaw clenched, hoping the tension in the office would dissipate as the day went on.

At the end of your shift, the weight of the day felt heavier than usual. The tension with Bucky hung over you like a cloud, lingering in your thoughts despite your best efforts to shake it off. It shouldn’t even be this deep—so why were you so affected? It’s just a casual thing, you reasoned with yourself. We’re barely even… whatever this is.

Yet, no matter how many times you told yourself to move on, the thought of Bucky—the way he’d looked at you, the frustration and hurt in his eyes—gnawed at you. You found yourself mentally bargaining, trying to find some middle ground, some way to keep your guard up but let him in a little, too. Maybe if I didn’t overthink it… if I just let it be whatever it is, I wouldn’t feel this way.

As you gathered your things, ready to head out, Trish and Amy approached with hesitant smiles. 

“Hey, you okay?” Trish asked gently, her earlier excitement replaced with genuine concern.

You managed a small, apologetic smile. 

“I’m so sorry about this morning,” you said, glancing between them. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you both. Just… a rough few days.”

They nodded in understanding, exchanging a quick look before Trish turned back to you. 

“No worries, but hey, if there’s something bothering you… maybe we can help? What do you say to grabbing some dinner with us? We can talk or not talk about it?”

Amy’s face lit up as she chimed in. “Yeah! You shouldn’t have to stew over whatever it is alone. Come on, let us treat you to some comfort food.”

Their unexpected warmth and support tugged at something in you, and you felt the weight on your shoulders ease just a little. 

With a small smile, you nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice. Thanks, guys.”

They grinned, and without missing a beat, each linked an arm through yours on either side, leading you toward the door as if they were determined to help you shake off every ounce of stress you’d been carrying. As you walked together, their chatter filled the air, and you let yourself settle into the easy companionship, hoping that maybe tonight would give you the reset you needed.

× × × ×

Across town, Bucky was pouring everything he had into the punching bag in front of him, each hit landing with a force that reverberated through his whole body. The gym was nearly empty, giving him the space to unload, each punch fueled by the frustration and confusion that had been building inside him for days. His jaw was clenched, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he moved, his muscles tense and coiled with pent-up energy. The sharp sound of his fists colliding with the bag echoed through the room, filling the silence as he worked to dump every complicated thought he’d been grappling with.

He had no reason to be as affected as he was, but the whole situation with you had hit him harder than he expected. He’d thought he could brush it off, ignore the strange ache that crept up every time he thought about your last conversation, but it stuck with him.

After a final, powerful jab, Bucky took a step back, breathing heavily as he let his hands drop to his sides. His mind was still a storm of thoughts, the adrenaline from his workout doing little to clear his head.

When he wasn’t working off steam in the gym, Bucky’s day-to-day was far less chaotic than most people would assume. As an automotive engineer at Ford, he spent hours each day under the hood, designing, testing, and refining high-performance engines. His focus had always been on innovation, on precision, on building something that could withstand any test. It was work he loved—real work, with real meaning, where every bolt and every part had a purpose.

The other job, his work in front of the camera, was different. It was an outlet, a separate side of himself he’d chosen to explore. People saw it for what it was on the surface, but it never felt like the core of who he was. You, however, had somehow managed to blur the lines between the two worlds in a way that left him unsteady. And for the first time, he found himself wondering if keeping his other job had been the right one.

The memory of your face—surprised, hesitant, almost wounded—came rushing back to him, making his chest tighten with something more complicated than he was prepared to face. 

Why did it matter so much? She’s just my neighbor, he thought. 

He sighed, pressing his gloved fists to his forehead as he tried to shake off the ache that had settled there. For now, all he could do was keep hitting, keep moving, hoping that maybe, at some point, the weight of it would finally start to lighten.

Later that evening, Bucky found himself in his kitchen, mindlessly stirring a pot on the stove. The rhythmic motion and steady bubbling should have been enough to distract him, but his thoughts kept drifting—inevitably back to you.

He remembered the first time you’d crossed paths in the building, how you’d barely glanced at him as you carried a pile of boxes through the hallway. It had amused him, how determined you were to act unaffected, especially after that sudden recognition flashed in your eyes. That little double-take when you realized who he was had been priceless. He’d leaned into that reaction ever since, throwing little teases and comments just to see your reaction, to see the way your cheeks would flush or how your gaze would flit away, only to sneak back.

There was something refreshing about the way you seemed to care so little about the reputation attached to him—so different from others he’d met. And maybe that was why he couldn’t resist teasing you, why he went out of his way to bump into you, to throw in a bit of banter just to see if he could make you smile or throw him a comeback.

But he never expected it to go beyond that. He didn’t expect that somewhere along the line, those little interactions would turn into something he looked forward to. And now, somehow, it had gotten tangled up with feelings he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

Bucky stirred the pot a little too vigorously, and a few drops splashed over the edge, hissing as they hit the stovetop. His hand stilled as he sighed, feeling the frustration bubble up all over again. This is my fault, he thought, jaw clenching slightly. I shouldn’t have come onto her too strong.

He hadn’t realized he was stirring so absentmindedly until the pot suddenly began to overflow, the liquid spilling over the edge and sizzling against the hot burner. With a muttered curse, he quickly grabbed a towel, lifting the pot off the heat and wiping up the mess, the sharp smell of burnt food pulling him out of his thoughts.

As he turned off the stove, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to make things right with you.

× × × ×

After a long day, you found yourself standing outside Bucky’s door, nerves twisting in your stomach. Just apologize, you told yourself, trying to gather the courage. Get it over with and clear the air. But as you stared at the door, words rehearsed in your mind, you found yourself hesitating. You’d been standing there so long that you’d lost track of time, each second stretching as you cycled through a list of possible things to say, none of which seemed quite right.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand to knock when a light, feminine laugh floated through the door, catching you off guard. You froze, your hand mid-air, as the laughter was followed by a familiar deep chuckle. Bucky’s.

"Alright, alright,” you heard him say, sounding more relaxed than you’d ever heard him with you. There was a warmth in his voice that sent a pang through your chest, the kind that came from comfort, closeness.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you didn’t miss me,” the woman teased, her tone playful and affectionate. “I know you. You’re never this nice to anyone else.”

You swallowed, something tightening in your chest as you listened.

"Alright, guilty," Bucky’s voice softened, almost shy. "Guess you’ve always been a bit of a soft spot."

Your heart twisted, her words and his response echoing in your mind, each line pulling you deeper into a sense of unease. Soft spot? Nice to her in a way he wasn’t with anyone else?

Your mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion, and your cheeks heated as your throat tightened. You felt silly for standing there now, silly for even considering coming over to apologize. What were am I doing? Of course he's with someone.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching the door, and panic flared. You turned, bolting toward your own apartment, fumbling with your keys as you heard Bucky’s door open behind you. Just as you managed to close your door, you caught a glimpse of him glancing down the hall, his gaze lingering on your door with a curious look.

Bucky’s sister, Becca, caught him glancing toward your door, she raised an eyebrow, nudging him with a knowing smile. 

“What’s up with you?” she asked, a touch of teasing in her voice. “Is everything okay?”

Bucky gave his head a quick shake, trying to dismiss the worry that had settled there. 

“Yeah, yeah… it’s nothing. Just thought I saw something,” he replied, though his gaze lingered a moment longer on your door before he finally turned back to Becca.

She didn’t look convinced. Folding her arms, she tilted her head, giving him a look that only an older sister could manage—the kind that saw right through any attempt to hide. 

“Are you sure? You’ve seemed a little off tonight, Bucky. I don’t think it’s nothing.”

Bucky held up his hands defensively, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips as he tried to brush her off. 

“Nothing! Really, it’s nothing. Now go home, seriously,” he insisted, ushering her toward the elevator with a slight push.

Becca rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it for a second. 

“Right. Nothing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gave him a knowing look. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, a bit more forcefully this time, though he couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Go on before you start reading my palm or something.”

Becca laughed, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” she said as she stepped into the elevator, though she gave him one last pointed look as the doors began to close. “But, Bucky? maybe figure out what you want before you drive yourself crazy over it.”

With that, the doors shut, leaving Bucky standing in the quiet hallway, he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he glanced back toward your door.

Later that night, Bucky found himself slumped on his couch, phone in hand as he stared at the search bar. He let out a huff, rolling his eyes at himself as he typed: signs you’re into someone.

The results loaded quickly, and he clicked the first article, skimming the list with a mixture of skepticism and, admittedly, nervous anticipation.

Sign #1: You can’t stop thinking about them. 

He paused, frowning at the screen. “Okay, that’s… kind of obvious,” he muttered, mentally ticking off that box with a begrudging sigh.

Sign #2: You go out of your way to see them.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at his phone, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“That one’s just stupid. I mean, we live in the same building. I don’t go out of my—” He paused, remembering all the times he’d “accidentally” found himself in the hallway when you’d get back from work, or when he’d gone to the laundry room at oddly specific times. “Okay, fine. Maybe sometimes.”

He kept scrolling, and the list grew more absurd—do you get jealous when they talk about other people? Do you go out of your way to impress them? By the end of it, he’d mentally checked off nearly every box, his expression morphing into a blend of reluctant acceptance and amusement.

Bucky sighed, tossing his phone onto the couch beside him. 

“What am I, sixteen?” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. Here he was, a grown man, looking up articles about crushes and ticking off boxes like he needed some random website to validate what he already knew.

But as he sat there, he realized it wasn’t the checklist itself—it was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, he felt like this. Like he actually cared about where things went, enough to drive him to ridiculous measures for some kind of clarity.

With a sigh, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of realization settling in. Bucky stared at the ceiling for a few more moments, letting out a deep sigh before grabbing his phone again and pulling up his contacts. Scrolling down to “Steve,” he hesitated for a beat before tapping the call button.

It rang twice before his friend picked up with a cheerful, “Yellow?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. “Hey, punk.”

“Bucky!” Steve’s voice was light, clearly amused. “What’s up? It’s been a while since you called just to say ‘hi.’”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I… actually had a question. Kind of. For… a friend.”

“Oh, a ‘friend,’ huh? Sure, I’m listening.” Steve chuckled on the other end, and Bucky could practically hear the grin in his voice.

Bucky cleared his throat, leaning back into the couch. 

“Right. So, uh, hypothetically speaking… how do you know if, you know, if you’re into someone? Like, in a way that’s… not just friendly?” His words tumbled out, each one feeling more absurd than the last.

“Your ‘friend’ wants to know how to tell if they’ve got a crush, huh? Didn’t realize we were back in high school, Buck.” Steve snorted, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Bucky sighed, feeling his face heat up. “Look, if you’re gonna be annoying, I’ll just—”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry,” Steve said quickly, though he was still chuckling. “Okay, seriously. Well… I guess if your ‘friend’ can’t stop thinking about her, or if he finds himself looking for reasons to be around her, that’s usually a sign. Or if he’s, you know, protective, feels that weird jealousy thing… you know how it goes.”

Bucky was silent for a second, swallowing as he mentally ticked off each of Steve’s points. “Right. Yeah. Hypothetically, that makes sense,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“And,” Steve continued, now sounding suspiciously entertained, “if your ‘friend’ is calling up his actual best friend in the middle of the night to figure it out… well, that might be a bit of a giveaway, too.”

Bucky groaned, falling back into the couch with a scowl. “Alright, alright, I get it. Thanks, Steve.”

But Steve wasn’t finished. “Hey, Buck? If you’re asking for yourself—which we both know you are—maybe just tell her how you feel. You’re not as subtle as you think, and if she’s worth this much thought… she’s probably worth the risk, too.”

Bucky was quiet, swallowing the mix of nerves and excitement that Steve’s words stirred up. “…Yeah. Thanks, pal.”

× × × × 

The next morning, you were practically sprinting down the hall, head ducked and heart racing, when you heard him call out, “Hey! Y/N—wait up!”

You didn’t dare look back, only quickened your steps, praying he’d let it go. But his footsteps grew closer, and just as you reached the lobby, you felt a hand gently graze your shoulder.

With an awkward yelp, you dodged sideways, almost colliding with a potted plant as you called over your shoulder, “Sorry, Bucky—gotta go! Late for work!” 

You bolted through the doors, ignoring the bewildered look he gave you as you disappeared into the morning rush.

You turned off your phone completely, just to avoid the constant notifications. His messages had started out simple—Hey, can we talk?—but quickly escalated. Each ding had become a taunt, a reminder that, even though he seemed persistent, there was no other reason to face him now. You left your phone off for nearly a full day, and by the time you turned it back on, there were over a dozen missed calls and messages waiting for you, each one a pinch of guilt you tried to ignore.

And just when you thought you’d mastered the art of dodging, fate had other plans.

Untik one bleary-eyed morning, as you rushed out of your apartment with a coffee in one hand and your bag slipping off the other shoulder, you came face-to-face with Bucky at the end of the hallway. There was no escape route this time; he was standing right in your path, his arms folded and an expression somewhere between concerned and utterly frustrated.

You tried to step to the left, but he mirrored you, stepping right into your path.

You shifted right, and he stepped left, blocking you again.

You both paused, sizing each other up. Then, in unison, you both moved left, only to collide shoulders. You exhaled in frustration, darting to the right, but he sidestepped with you again.

“Bucky, please,” you groaned, your patience wearing thin, feeling the minutes tick closer to being late. “I have to go.”

His eyes softened just a little, but he didn’t budge. “Not until you stop running away from me. Can we just talk?”

You scowled, giving him one last sidestep to the left, only to be blocked again. With a frustrated sigh, you finally did the only thing left: you placed both hands on his chest and gave him a firm push, slipping past him before he could react.

“I’m late,” you muttered, not looking back as you all but jogged down the hallway, leaving Bucky in the wake of your retreat, his gaze following you with an expression that told you he wasn’t giving up. Hell no.

× × × ×

Until one day, when you were in the middle of work, a receptionist from the ground floor called up to tell you that someone wanted to see you. Curiosity and irritation flared as you made your way down, a frown already forming on your face. And the second you spotted him—standing in the lobby, arms crossed, looking as frustrated as you’d ever seen him—you felt your heart drop.

You turned on your heel, muttering to yourself, “Unbelievable…” But before you could make it far, he called out.

“Y/N!” His voice echoed across the lobby, and you turned back with a glare.

“What the hell are you doing here, Bucky?” you hissed, stepping closer so your conversation stayed private, though part of you just wanted to get him out of the building before anyone noticed.

His jaw was set, his gaze determined. “Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Nothing should have happened between us. Let’s just… leave it at that.”

He frowned, visibly taken aback by your bluntness. 

“How can you say that?” he demanded, his voice low but intense.

Your throat tightened, but you held your ground. 

“I need to get back to work,” you said, not meeting his eyes. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you once again.

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly. “I’ll wait right here until you clock out if that’s what it takes. We’re going to talk, Y/N.”

You groaned, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Bucky, go home.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he took a seat in one of the lobby chairs, crossing his arms and settling in as if he were prepared to stay all night. Despite the receptionist’s raised eyebrows and curious glances from passing employees, Bucky stayed put, a stubborn expression on his face that only grew more determined with each hour that passed.

Throughout the afternoon, you tried to focus on your work, but every so often, curiosity and frustration got the better of you. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself messaging the receptionist, unable to resist asking, “Is he still there?”

The reply was quick and confirmed what you feared: “He hasn’t moved. Just sitting there, staring at his phone.”

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt despite yourself. “Could you… maybe offer him a drink or something? He’s not going to leave, is he?”

The receptionist’s response was amused. “Already tried. Said he’s fine, but he appreciates it.”

The next day, he was there again, seated in the same chair, his arms crossed and his expression set like stone. This time, he came prepared—there was coffee waiting on the front desk with your name on it. When Trish and Amy teased you about the mysterious admirer, you convinced them to sneak out the back exit with you after work.

The day after that, he stepped it up. Roses. A beautiful arrangement of vibrant blooms appeared on your desk, the receptionist delivering them with a knowing smile. Your coworkers were relentless, whispering about your "secret boyfriend" and giving you sly grins every time they passed your desk. Again, you dodged them and Bucky, slipping out the back exit before he could catch you.

But no matter how much you avoided him, Bucky didn’t give up. Each morning, he was there, as stubborn as a mule—or more appropriately, as stubborn as Bucky Barnes. His persistence was unwavering, his resolve impossible to break.

Finally, on the fourth day, the receptionist herself came up to your floor, pulling you aside with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone friendly but firm, “you’ve got to talk to him.”

Your stomach twisted as you glanced at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She arched a brow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. 

“Your man. He’s down there again. Same chair, same determined look. And he’s got flowers. Again.” She folded her arms, her expression softening slightly. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he’s been here every day for the past four days. He’s polite, patient, doesn’t bother anyone, but... it’s obvious he’s waiting for you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you felt the weight of her words settle over you. “He’s not my—”

“Y/N.” She cut you off, giving you a pointed look. “Just talk to him. If for no other reason than to put him out of his misery. I’ve worked here for five years, and I’ve never seen anyone that persistent. Trust me, most guys wouldn’t even wait an hour.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s... complicated.”

The receptionist chuckled, shaking her head. “Aren’t they all? But the way he’s sitting down there, looking like a kicked puppy one minute and a stubborn bulldog the next? That’s not complicated. That’s someone who cares.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Don’t let something good slip away just because it’s messy.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing in the hallway, your heart thundering in your chest. You peeked toward the elevator, debating whether you could sneak out through the back again. But deep down, you knew she was right.

Bucky was waiting. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your things, bracing yourself for what was bound to be another conversation you weren’t sure you were ready for.

× × × ×

You stepped into the lobby, your pulse quickened. There he was, sitting exactly where he’d planted himself hours ago, looking a little rumpled, maybe even tired, but every bit as determined as ever. His gaze lifted the moment you appeared, and for a second, his whole expression softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Relief, warmth, maybe even something more—it was all there, clear as day, and somehow it made this moment feel… different.

Bucky rose, a small, boyish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he approached. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you, letting the silence between you speak. The noise of the lobby faded away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a quiet, invisible bubble.

You forced yourself to stay steady, trying to keep the upper hand. Arms crossed, you raised an eyebrow at him. “So… you camped out here all day?”

His smile turned a little sheepish, but there was no hint of apology in his tone. 

“Told you I’d wait. Figured you’d come down eventually.” He took a half-step closer, his voice soft and warm, laced with that casual mischief that made it impossible not to smile.

You rolled your eyes, biting back the smile creeping up. “Could’ve just… I don’t know, texted? Called? Like a normal person?”

He tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to make your heart trip over itself. 

“I tried that, remember? Didn’t seem to work on you.” He shrugged, completely unfazed. “So I figured I’d go old-school. Sometimes persistence pays off.”

“Persistence,” you muttered, pretending to sound exasperated. “You mean showing up uninvited?”

Before Bucky could answer, the unmistakable chatter of Trish and Amy echoed from the elevator behind you. Your heart jumped into your throat. Oh no. Absolutely not.

Without thinking, you stepped closer to Bucky, practically pressing yourself against him as you yanked your bag off your shoulder and lifted it up like a makeshift shield to block both of your faces.

Bucky froze, his body stiffening at your sudden proximity, but his expression quickly shifted to pure amusement. His lips twitched as he looked down at you, your bag wobbling precariously on the side of your faces.

“Um… what are you doing?” he whispered, his breath brushing against your forehead.

“Shhh!” you hissed, tilting the bag slightly to peek over it. Trish and Amy were slowly walking toward the front doors, their voices growing louder. “Just… don’t move. They can’t see me with you.”

“And why’s that?” Bucky asked, his voice low and teasing, though he didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned down a fraction, his face hovering closer to yours. “Afraid they’ll get the wrong idea?”

“No, I’m afraid they’ll get the right idea,” you snapped under your breath, glaring up at him.

His eyes sparkled, and his grin widened. “Oh, really? And what idea would that be, sweetheart?”

“Bucky,” you warned, the heat rising in your cheeks as you tilted your bag higher, completely covering his smirking face.

But Bucky didn’t seem fazed. If anything, he seemed more amused, his gaze dropping to your face like you were the most fascinating thing he laid eyes upon. His voice softened, the teasing edge replaced by something warmer. 

“You know, you’re really bad at hiding.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating lightly against you. “Not gonna lie, this might be the highlight of my day. You, using me as a human shield. Very flattering.”

“Oh shut up,” you whispered, but your voice wavered, betraying the way your pulse was racing.

Trish and Amy finally passed by, oblivious to the two of you tucked against the corner. You let out a breath of relief, slowly lowering your bag. But before you could step away, you realized how close you were—Bucky’s face mere inches from yours, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

His voice dropped, soft and almost reverent. “You can hide from them all you want. But you can’t keep hiding from me, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare back at him, caught in the pull of his gaze. The noise of the lobby faded again, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“I told you,” he murmured, his tone steady but impossibly gentle. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

You tried to ignore the thrill of butterflies that his words sparked. “Like I said, there’s nothing to talk about, Bucky. We should just keep our distance from each other okay?”

He took a steadying breath, his brows drawing together, his voice losing that playful edge. 

“How can you just decide that?” he asked, his tone almost pleading. “You don’t even know…”

You shifted, heart pounding. “Because I know you’re already seeing someone else. I don’t need to be another complication in your life.”

He blinked, visibly taken aback. And then, just as quickly, his face softened, an incredulous, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him. 

“Seeing someone else? Where did you get that idea?”

Heat crept up your cheeks as you tried to hold your ground. “I—I heard her, okay? When I was at your door the other day. The laughing, the… the way you sounded with her…” You bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him.

“Oh.” 

He let out another breathy laugh, shaking his head as if you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. 

“Y/N… that wasn’t a date. She’s not—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of exasperation and utter amusement. “She’s my sister.”

Your mouth dropped open, the realization hitting you like a freight train. “… what?”

“Yeah, my sister, Becca. She was just in town visiting.” He gave you a look of pure, amused disbelief, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “God, you really thought I was seeing someone?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” you muttered, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Bucky’s smile softened, and he took another step closer, until there was hardly any space between you. 

“You should’ve just asked,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Instead of. . . I don’t know? Avoiding me like the plague?”

You tried to summon a retort, but your heart was racing, your thoughts jumbled by his proximity and the way his gaze seemed to hold you captive.

Bucky chuckled, the sound soft and full of affection as he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“All this because of a misunderstanding?” His voice was low, his hand lingering, fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out why you’re dead set on ignoring me.”

You managed to look up at him, heart pounding as you searched his eyes, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

“There’s only one person I want to see,” he murmured, his hand dropping from your face and now brushing against your arm. “And I thought I’m making that pretty clear?”

Your mouth opened and closed then opened again, “Okay. . .”

“Okay. . .” Bucky chuckles and steps back, “Shall we. . . restart?”

A flicker of surprise crossed your face, and a warmth bloomed in your chest at his invitation. You’d spent so many days tangled in your own assumptions, convinced things between you were over before they even began, and here he was, offering an olive branch with that disarming smile.

“Restart?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat as you met his gaze.

He nodded, his expression softening even more. “Yeah.”

You gave him a small, hesitant smile, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. “Yeah… I think I’d like that.”

Bucky’s grin widened, relief and something warmer sparking in his eyes. “Great. Let’s go home?”

“U-Uh, sure.”

× × × ×

The streets were alive with the hum of the city—cars rushing by, distant chatter from groups of people, and the occasional burst of laughter from passersby. But despite the liveliness around you, there was an unspoken tension in the air.

You noticed the way women’s heads turned as you passed, their gazes lingering a little too long on Bucky. It didn’t help that he looked effortlessly handsome, his casual outfit somehow drawing more attention than it should have. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes, but another part couldn’t blame them.

Bucky didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care. His focus remained on you, his stride matching yours, though there was a slight hesitation in his step.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured, glancing up at him as you adjusted the bouquet in your arms.

He let out a soft hum, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Just thinking,” he said, his voice low.

“About?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally spoke. “About that night.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you instinctively looked away, focusing on the ground ahead of you. 

“I thought we weren’t going to bring that up,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both unease and curiosity.

“We have to talk about it eventually,” he replied, his tone steady but gentle. “I don’t like leaving things unresolved, Y/N.”

When you finally reached the corner of your block, you slowed your steps. Bucky noticed, his own pace matching yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The two of you moved to the quieter steps of your building, sitting side by side. The soft hum of the city buzzed around you, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely. Your bag rested on your lap, your face soft under the streetlights, but the tension in the air was anything but light.

Bucky broke the silence first, his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“I’ve been wanting to say this for a while,” he started, his voice low but steady. “That night… I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself.”

You blinked, turning to him in surprise. “Mad at yourself?”

He nodded, his jaw clenching for a moment before he continued. “Yeah. I thought I’d scared you off, made you feel like I wasn’t taking you seriously. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to think I was just… using you.”

Your fingers tightened around the bouquet, the ache in his voice tugging at something deep in your chest. 

“Bucky, it wasn’t just about you,” you admitted quietly. “It was me, too. I panicked. I wasn’t sure if I could handle…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Handle what your life looks like.”

His head tilted slightly, his blue eyes softening as he looked at you. “Because of my job,” he said gently, not as a question, but a statement.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. 

“It’s hard, Bucky. I hear my coworkers talking about you—about SergeantBarnes—all the time. They don’t know it’s you, but it’s constant. They treat you like… like you’re this fantasy, this unattainable thing. And it’s not just them. It’s everyone who sees you online, who only knows that part of you.”

He stayed silent, letting your words settle, his gaze never leaving your face.

“And then there’s me,” you continued, your voice wavering slightly. “I don’t want to be another name on a list or someone who gets overshadowed by… by the version of you that everyone else thinks they know.”

Bucky leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he turned his head to look at you. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

“I get that,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “And I hate that you feel that way. But Y/N, you’re not another name on a list to me. You’re not someone who gets lost in all of that… noise.”

You held his gaze, the weight of his words settling in your chest. His patience today, his persistence—it wasn’t the action of someone who saw you as fleeting or inconsequential. It was the effort of someone who cared, deeply.

Bucky sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I’ve kept my work and personal life separate for a reason. It’s always been easier to compartmentalize, to keep everything from bleeding into each other. But now? Now I realize that I didn’t think about what would happen if someone—if you—became significant to me.”

Your chest tightened, his words chipping away at the insecurities you’d been holding onto. “Bucky…”

Bucky turned toward you fully, his blue eyes locking onto yours, raw and unguarded in a way that made your heart ache. 

“If I told you that I want to spend every day and night with you—not just because I like you, but because you’ve become the one constant person I can’t stop thinking about. If I told you that you’re my sanity when the world feels like chaos, my laughter, my desire, my comfort, my day and my night, my cold and heat—If I told you that, would you think that translates to only wanting you as ‘one of my girls’?”

Your breath caught, the raw honesty in his words shaking you. “Bucky…”

“I know my job makes things messy,” he continued, his voice quieter now, like he was almost ashamed. “But I get it—I get why it’s hard for you. I hate that it’s something that puts distance between us.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “If I could go back and change things, I would. I’d do whatever it takes to make this easier for you.”

Your throat tightened, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to speak. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to change who you are for me,” you said softly.

“It’s not about changing who I am,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s about making sure I don’t lose something.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, his hands fidgeting as he leaned back against the step, staring up at the night sky for a moment before turning his gaze back to you.

“I’m gonna be really honest with you, Y/N,” he started, his voice low, hesitant. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do about the… other stuff yet. It’s not as simple as just walking away. I’ve got contracts, commitments—it’s not something I can just drop overnight.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you nodded, appreciating his honesty even as the knot in your stomach grew. 

"And that means... what exactly?" you asked, even though deep down, you already knew.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he let out an exasperated chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Do you really want me to say it? Do I have to say it?”

You didn’t flinch this time, your voice cutting through the tension with unsettling clarity. “It means you have to keep having sex with other porn stars… right?”

Bucky winced at the bluntness of your question, the words hitting him harder than he expected. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground as he wrestled with what felt like shame.

You sighed heavily, pressing the heel of your hand against your forehead as you shut your eyes tightly. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t untie. Out of all the men that could catch your interest, why did it have to be him?

“You are the most complicated guy I’ve ever met,” you said, letting out a short, humorless laugh that carried no amusement, only exhaustion. “Oh my gosh, I honestly don’t even know—” You paused, your voice faltering as you opened your eyes and looked at him, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “How would you make it easier for me, Bucky? How?”

Bucky swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his lips parted, his gaze flickering over your face. He was clearly thinking, his mind working furiously to find a solution, any solution.

"Do you… not like the idea of me with other women?" he asked tentatively, his tone cautious.

You snorted, narrowing your eyes at him. "That’s a stupid question, Bucky."

"Just say yes or no," he pressed, his gaze intent.

"Yes, I do not like the idea," you snapped, your tone sharp with irritation. "But I can’t prevent it, can I?"

Bucky took a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he stared at you. Then, his next words came out carefully, almost testing the waters. 

“What if. . .you do it with me?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief flooding your expression as his suggestion hung in the air. 

Slowly, a startled laugh escaped your lips. 

"Are you joking? You’re out of your mind if you think I’d showcase my body to the world like that!"

"I’m not saying you have to," he said quickly, his hands raising defensively. "I just thought… maybe it’d feel different. Less like I’m with strangers. Maybe it’d feel like I’m with you."

"Bucky," you said, your voice heavy with disbelief, "that’s not a solution. That’s… whatever that is, it’s insane."

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the roots in frustration. 

“I know it sounds insane,” he muttered, his tone rough. “But I’m trying to find a way to make this work. To make this easier for you.”

You shook your head, letting out a long breath. You stared at Bucky, your frustration and disbelief simmering just beneath the surface. 

“Me… doing that with you? Just so I can handle this better?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know. But I hate the thought of you being upset every time I have to perform. And yeah, maybe it’s a selfish thought, but if it were with you… at least it’d feel real. Like it means something.”

You bit your lip, his words tugging at something inside you. But the idea of putting yourself in front of a camera, of having your body displayed for the world—it made your stomach churn. "Bucky, that’s not… I don’t know if I could ever do that. It’s not me. It’s not what I want people to see of me."

He nodded slowly, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "I get that," he said softly. "But if it’s the only way to make this easier for you… I just thought—"

"You thought what?" you interrupted, cutting him off. "That I’d suddenly be okay with the idea of putting my body out there for millions of people to see? That I’d somehow be okay sharing you like that, even if it’s just on-screen?"

Bucky flinched at your tone, his jaw tightening. "I don’t want you to share me. I don’t want any of this to be a problem for us. But you don’t trust that I’m serious about you, and I’m just trying to find a way to show you."

You let out a shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. He wasn’t wrong—it was hard to trust, hard to believe that someone with a job like his could be serious about anyone, let alone you. But his suggestion… it wasn’t the answer. Was it?

For a moment, you considered something that had never crossed your mind before. The idea was ludicrous, insane even, but it lingered in the back of your thoughts like a whisper. Your lips parted hesitantly, the words tasting strange on your tongue as you said them.

"If I agreed… hypothetically," you started, your voice faltering slightly, "would I… would I have to show my face?"

Bucky blinked, taken aback by your question. For a moment, his expression softened, a mix of relief and regret washing over his face. 

“It’s only a suggestion. . . you don’t have to do this, if you’re uncomfortable." he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I just… I threw it out there because I’m desperate to find a way to make this work.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. 

“I don’t know. But the thought of you with someone else… it makes me sick. And now I feel like I’m stuck, like there’s no winning in this situation.”

Bucky studied you for a long moment, his blue eyes filled with understanding. You could see him weighing his next words carefully, as if they could tip the balance in either direction.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft yet steady. “You know what? Forget I said any of that,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, almost sheepish smile. “It’s too much for tonight. For both of us.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. “Bucky—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, shaking his head. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to feel like this has to be some big, impossible decision right now. We’re both exhausted from this conversation, and I don’t want to mess it up any more than I already have.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, a mix of relief and guilt swirling in your chest. He was giving you an out, a way to step back from the overwhelming weight of it all, and you weren’t sure whether to thank him or cry.

“How about this,” Bucky said, leaning forward slightly, his tone softer now. “Let’s just… hit pause for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll do something normal. Something simple. Let’s go on a date—no heavy talks, no complicated feelings. Just us.”

Your eyes searched his, finding nothing but sincerity in his gaze. It wasn’t an easy fix, and it wouldn’t erase the doubts or the fears that still lingered between you. But it was a step forward, a way to reconnect without the weight of everything else pressing down on you both.

“A date?” you asked, your lips twitching into a hesitant smile.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile growing a little. “Somewhere fun, somewhere we can just… breathe. No drama, no cameras, just you and me.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You make it sound so easy.”

Bucky’s grin widened, and he shrugged, a teasing glint in his eye. “That’s because it can be. We don’t have to solve everything at once, Y/N. We just have to take it one step at a time.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the tension in your chest loosen ever so slightly. 

“Alright,”you said, your voice steadying. “Tomorrow, we’ll go on a date.”

Bucky’s smile was warm and genuine, and for a moment, the weight of the evening lifted. 

"Awesome," he said, standing up and offering you his hand. "Now, let me walk you up. Can’t let you carry bag on your own."

You laughed softly, taking his hand as he helped you to your feet. As the two of you walked back into your building, the night air seemed a little lighter. Although at the back of your thought, a question lingers. Should you agree to his suggestion?

tags: @bohoooitsme @barnescamboy @strangefunthornqueen @mayusenpai666 @seven0714

@rabbitrabbit12321 @alexsl-universe @xunquish-blog @hzdhrtss @winchestert101

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@mochiclouds @yesiamthatwierd @skywalker0809 @19jammmy @quinquinquincy

@morganlolitta @openup-yourmind @urbanleftovers @fallout-girl219 @awenita

@red22wolf @lostboys1987girl @tenmaabnesti @elloredef @daddylorianisastateofmind

@leighta @formulas-bitch @waywardhunter95 @cereal6666 @gg-trini

@ohdrey89 @theboysfanficmaker @clintsupremacy @whatislovevavy @okeypoteto

@lilynotdilly @byunleedy @mrsalexstan @jamesbarneswife @chiseplushie

@antiartemis @imagoddessinmystories @let-it-sn0o0ow @mostlymarvelgirl @crdgn

[headlinerkwan]

whispered - c.hs

pairing: vernon x gn!reader

genre: nonidol!au, mutual friends to lovers, secret dating, featuring the rest of svt, reader & vernon are whipped for each other, slight comfort, suggestive.

summary: vernon had always been the guy you saw across the room but never spoke to, until you did. who could blame you for keeping your relationship quiet?

warnings: profanity, mental health, alcohol, implied family problems, highly suggestive - MDNI!!

wc: 4.4k

a/n: i hope you guys like this!! i've always loved the secret dating trope and vernon's so sweet sooo. song rec for this fic is leonard cohen - boygenius ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎

The night that you met Vernon was ordinary. Or, at least, it was meant to be ordinary. Another party at Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s place, no different from the one they held last Friday - chaotic as always, right? You had seen Vernon around before, it was impossible not to notice him. There was something that drew you to him, something that made you curious. Maybe it was the way his dark eyes sparkled under the low kitchen lights, or how he really didn’t seem to care what was going on around him, focusing only on the music and the drink in his hand. 

“Everyone! Listen up!” Seungkwan yells, standing on top of a chair. You lift your head to watch him, catching Vernon’s eyes briefly as you do. “Who’s up for a game of suck and blow?” 

As soon as he says that, you know there’s no escaping. Your friend grabs you by the arm, already sensing your hesitation. 

“Pleaseee” Lia babbles into your ear, leaning against you “Just this once. One game, then I promise I’ll let you return to your dungeon, come on! It’ll be fun.”

Absent-mindedly, your gaze drifts to Vernon. You stifle a smile whilst you watch Chan and Jeonghan hassle him similarly. You sigh and reply to Lia, “Fine, one game.”

Seungkwan has always been methodical when it comes to games. Everything has to be just right from the set up to the number of players, it’s all a process. You’re standing with your friends, and a few strangers, waiting as Seungkwan creates the ‘perfect’ formation. 

“Kwan, hurry up!” Mingyu whines. 

“Ugh you don’t get it, fine.” He starts pulling people out, each one of your friends lined up and, like the child that he is, he puts you behind Vernon of course. 

He turns to you, adorning an awkward smile before he offers his hand.

“I’m Vernon.”

“Y/N” You say, shaking his hand. 

“I know.” 

Your eyes widen, he knows?. He turns around, a smug look on his face, chuckling to himself. 

The next time you see his face, he’s holding the card to his lips and bending down slightly to meet you. It’s like everything goes quiet once his eyes look into yours, like it’s the first day of your life as he leans in closer, and closer. 

And then, he drops the card. 

And his lips are on yours. His lips are on yours. Oh shit. 

You pull away quickly, your heart fluttering as the party hollers around you. 

“And… you two are out!” Seungkwan yells, pointing at the both of you, as if you needed more of a reason to blush. 

Keeping your eyes on the floor, embarrassed by your shy smile and red cheeks, you immediately walk towards Lia who, after being sat in front of Chan, had already lost the game. 

“I’m gonna go home now.”

“Huh?”

“You said one game, and I’m tired so…”

She sits back in her chair, sighing “Ok, I’ll keep my end of the deal, text me when you get home.”

“Mhm, stay safe, I’ll see you later!”

“Yeah yeah I know.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Stepping out onto the street, you finally feel like you can breathe. The night sky, a gathering of stars to guide you home and the wind blowing gently through your hair. 

“We shouldn’t have lost, you know. Seungkwan’s a bad referee.”

Huh? You freeze. Is that…

You turn around to confirm your suspicions and there he is. In the middle of the road, Vernon is stood waiting for you to respond, hoping you’ll respond. 

“Huh?” 

“That wasn’t a real kiss,” he says, stepping closer to you. His eyes are soft as he scans your face as if he’s trying to memorise every freckle and blemish, “this is.”

He places two fingers under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. His lips crash into yours, he tastes like sweet vanilla and beer, his hands move gently to cup the side of your face. You’re still for a second, still frozen in place until you finally come to your senses and begin kissing him back. His tongue licks over your lips, and you part them in response, leaning into him as his tongue smooths around your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair as he teases and smiles into you. 

Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, opening his eyes to look at you with a breathless grin. “Better?” he whispers against your lips and you can’t manage anything but a nod in response. 

His hand drops from your face to find your hand, warm and strong. You find yourself speechless as he turns away from you, dragging you along the street as he giggles to himself like a small child, “C’mon, I’ll walk you home”. 

You don’t live far from Jeonghan’s apartment, but the walk with Vernon feels almost like a lifetime as you trade anecdotes on your mutual friends and daily lives.

You learn he works at the record store downtown, he’s been friends with Seungkwan since they were teenagers and, just like you, he had been dragged to the party by his friends - your friends. 

Between you two, you note at least six times that you had just missed meeting each other at group hangouts, four times that you had seen the other but been too shy to approach them. A multitude of missed chances, all the times you had gone against the strings of fate.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

As you shut the door to your apartment, you can’t help but smile to yourself, thinking back on the last hour.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were… somewhat of a pessimist when it came to romance. The whole dating thing, to be blunt, you had grown sick of. The back and forth, the chasing, the disappointment. You’re not sure you have the energy for more disappointment. 

Vernon, though, manages to slip past you somehow. Manages to slip past the walls you’d built over the years. The way he makes you laugh, his heart-shaped smiles, his chestnut hair perfectly framing his face, the way he views the world with a pure curiosity.

Fuck. Tonight might have been the first time in months that your smiles have been real. Tonight your smiles weren’t products of politeness but real, genuine happiness. 

God this can’t be good. You’re going soft. You’re letting a man turn you soft.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Maybe: Vernon [13:12]: I know we JUST saw each other but I can’t stop thinking about that donut place we saw last night.

Your phone vibrates on your desk and you immediately catch yourself smiling. It’s almost embarrassing how he has you giggling at your screen from such a simple message. 

Ok. Compose yourself. You still need to respond. 

Y/N [13:15]: It’s like you can read my mind. 

Vernon [13:16]: I’ll be there in 15.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“I should tell you something.” You say, walking down the street hand-in-hand with Vernon.

“Out of the blue?” 

“Mhm, out of the blue!” You respond, nudging him playfully.

“Go on…”

“I just… I’m not like, ashamed of you. I’m just, I like it like this, just you and me, I like us.”

He chuckles quietly at your sudden candour and timidity.

You hit his arm softly “Bro! I’m being serious.”

“Bro! I know!” He pulls you closer, “It’s nice with you, peaceful, like everything else fades away. I like having you to myself I guesss.”

“Hmm, maybe I should be ashamed of you, I can still change my mind” You say, laughing. 

“You couldn’t even if you wanted to” 

You respond with a pouty smile, he giggles, his mouth moulding into the heart shape that always manages to melt you. 

“Ooo! Wait let’s get ice cream!” He says, his hand leaving yours as he runs to the food stall across the street, still grinning from ear to ear.

You find yourself smiling again. If someone had told you two months ago that you would fall for a film nerd who has the Wikipedia app downloaded onto his phone you might’ve punched them square in the face - and yet, here you are.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Cheers!”, your friends call out, clinking their glasses together. All of you are crowded around a small table, you’re sandwiched between Seokmin and Lia who are in the midst of an intense conversation about film adaptations. Vernon is sitting silently at the other end of the table, listening to Chan and Seungkwan rambling on about a lost bet. His eyes meet yours and a quiet smile appears on his face in time with yours. 

“Y/N! You’re the literature nerd, can you pleaseee explain the phenomenon that is the 1996 adaptation of Romeo and Juliet” Seokmin says, pulling you away from your silent exchange.

You clear your throat and prepare yourself to give somewhat of a lecture on what you think may be the best modern retelling of Shakespeare.

Almost an hour later, Vernon pipes up, seeking an opportunity. “Anyone want another pint?”

A mumble of yes’s respond as empty glasses are lifted into the air. 

“Y/N, mind giving me a hand?” He asks, impressively casually. 

“Oh, uh yeah of course.” You say, shooting up from your seat (not so casually).

Standing at the bar waiting for the bartender's attention, Vernon leans over to whisper in your ear, “Should we just… run away?”. 

“So tempting Mr. Chwe but I think they might catch on.”

“Hmm I’m not sure, I think they might be too caught up in their own conversations to piece it together.”

“A good point.”

“Wait five minutes, I’ll be outside.” He says assuredly, slyly reaching to squeeze your hand. 

And then he’s gone, returning to the table to bid your friends goodbye, glancing at you one last time before he leaves and turns the corner.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Finally” He whines jokingly as you exit the bar after escaping the tipsy grasp of your friends. 

You laugh, throwing your head back at his dramatics whilst he pulls you in by the waist, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. 

“I missed you.” He whispers.

You can’t stop yourself from giggling again, “We’ve literally been together the entire night.”

“Sure, but now you’re all mine.” He replies, pressing soft pecks into your skin. 

“Can’t deny that.” 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Y/N [23:17]: Are you free rn?

Vernon [23:17]: For you? Always.

Y/N [23:19]: Can you come get me? 

Vernon [23:21]: Are you ok?

Y/N [23:21]: Yeah, I just need to get out of here

‘Y/N’ shared their location with ‘Vernon’. 

The rain is sharp and cold as it falls on you, staring at the puddles forming by your feet. There isn’t a thought in your head as you watch the raindrops fall.  Dinner with your family has always brought out the worst in you, always wearing you down, leaving you empty. Your heart is heavy with exhaustion, anger, sadness. Exhaustion. 

Then his hand slips into yours. Warm and strong as always. 

“Y/N?”

You turn to him, slowly lifting your head to look at him, tears in your eyes. His expression immediately softens, “Come on bub, let me drive you home.”  he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and opening the car door for you.  

“Do you wanna talk about it?”  

“I don’t know ‘non, can we not go home yet though? I just need some time to think.”

He nods, starting the engine, “Of course.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The sand falls from the gaps between your fingers, you sit beside Vernon, resting your head on his shoulder and letting the sea’s mist kiss your face. 

Vernon is the first to break the silence, “I come here a lot, to think.”

“Mm,” you hum “it’s nice here, quiet.”

He kisses the top of your head and returns his focus to the waves crashing against the rocks. 

“Sometimes I feel so out of my depth, like I don’t know if i’m doing the right thing or what the right thing is,” you admit quietly, his hand finds yours to show you he’s listening, “It all just feels so out of my control, like everything’s happening around me and not to me and that’s … not fun.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, “I know bub, and it’s not like there’s an easy fix. It’s just- you just have to feel it, the sadness, the anger, the happiness, that’s the best way. Just like how some waves pass and others break apart, and some mountains seem impossible to climb, that’s just how it is, even if it’s shit. And when it’s overwhelming, that’s okay too because I’ll come and rescue you, we’ll climb the mountains together.”

There’s a moment of silence before he lifts his pinky finger to yours. 

“Promise.” he says softly. 

You loop your fingers together and seal it with a shake. The sea air carrying your whispers into the night. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Okay, options are ramen or takeout.” He calls from the kitchen.

“Hmm, I think we definitely deserve takeout.”

“How come?”

“For being the power couple of the century, what do you mean?”

His laugh echoes through his apartment, “Brooo, you’re so right I can’t believe I even asked.”

He runs over to you, lazily splayed across his couch, lying on top of you he continues to giggle as he buries his face into your neck. 

You love lazy Sundays with Vernon, they had quickly become your escape from reality, a sanctuary for yourself, your happiness and your love.

“What movie are we watching today then ‘non?” You ask sweetly, your hands subconsciously playing with his hair.

“I was thinking… academy award winning classic ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’?”

Ah yes, the film you and Vernon had watched ten times over, the one you would never get sick of, “LETS FUCKING GOOO!!” you yell, excitedly punching the air. 

He sits up, looking at you with a cheesy grin, laughing and mirroring your fists, “LETS GO BROO!!”

As much as you love the film, staying focused on it proves to be a struggle - especially with Vernon next to you. You can’t help but watch the intense sparkle in his eyes as he’s entirely consumed by the screen. You find yourself mesmerised by the way he watches and laughs along like it’s the first time. 

“It’s hard to focus with your eyes on me” he states abruptly, refusing to tear his eyes away from the TV.

Your cheeks burn red from embarrassment, “Oh, sorry.”

He turns to you then, a blend of concern and mischief on his face, “I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his sudden confidence, a part of him that always makes your heart flutter. You don’t even get a chance to respond as his lips capture yours, melting into him as he kisses you passionately, stealing the air from your lungs. One of his hands cups your face gently, a direct juxtaposition from the other which finds its way to your waist, gripping firmly as the two of you move against each other like ocean waves. 

Tangling your fingers in his hair, he pulls you onto his lap, moving his lips to suck and nibble at your neck as your breath grows heavy with desire. The moans he releases against your skin echo through you, his hands running up and down your body as you throw your head back, getting hungrier by the minute. 

And then he stops. 

Huh? 

You immediately open your eyes, slightly concerned by the suddenness of his actions, to find his eyes back on the TV whilst his hands continue to fiddle with the hem of your shorts. 

“I love this scene.” He whispers, breathless and fascinated.

“Vernonnnn” you whine, throwing yourself back down onto the couch. It’s sweet, honestly, endearing, you find yourself giggling “are you kidding?”

He looks down at you, an innocent smile plastered on his face, his hand still caressing your thigh. He raises a curious eyebrow before breaking into a loud chuckle and leaning back towards you.

“Dude… Of course I’m kidding. I think the film’s gonna have to wait until I’m done with you.” He whispers against your skin, trailing kisses from your lips to your collarbone.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Five months in, you and Vernon had mastered the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ routine. Even around your friends, you cherished every moment with him, every smile, secret touch, knowing look. Even on bad days, your heart feels lighter with Vernon around. 

It’s another chaotic Friday night, just like when you had first met Vernon, except this time your friends hadn’t dragged you to Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s apartment but to their favourite karaoke bar. The table you’re sitting at is littered with empty soju bottles and beer cans, you listen intently to one of Jun’s famous anecdotes as BooSeokSoon serenades your friends loudly.

“How do they still have the energy for that?” Wonwoo asks, astounded as the three men jump around, microphones in hand. 

‘They’re machines, you know that.” Minghao replies.

“Mm, you’re right.” 

Watching your friends, wrapped up in their own little worlds, you’re almost emotional - so happy to see them having fun, so proud to have watched them grow, and then there’s Vernon of course - maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you’re not sure you’ve felt so happy before. 

“We should play a game,” Seungcheol slurs, “Should we play a game? Yeah we should play a game.” You laugh at the conversation he’s having with himself, watching as Vernon, grinning stupidly, walks over to his friends to lead them down from the stage and back to the table. The boys around you cheer for the others as they stumble to their chairs, bowing dramatically to their new ‘fans’. Once the havoc settles down, Mingyu taps his ring against his glass “Ok,” he points his finger, scanning the group before landing on Joshua “Shua, what game are we playing?” 

“Uh… 365?” Joshua replies, being met with drunken agreement from the rest. 

The time passes quickly as you drink and play. Growing tipsy, you hardly notice the change in Vernon’s demeanour when Soonyoung rests his head on your shoulder. It’s nothing new to you, he’s known to be an affectionate drunk - and a light weight, you’re used to his drunken skinship.

Vernon’s patience is running low as the minutes pass, his leg shaking as he watches Soonyoung cuddle up to you. He stands up from his seat across the table, walking over to your seat and taking your hand, leading you outside. Confused, you look back at your friends as you walk with him, finding them all too drunk to notice you and Vernon’s absence.

“Non? Is everything okay?”

“Can we go home now?” He asks softly with hurt eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

“I should be sat over there with you, I just don’t want to watch Soonyoung be all cuddly with the person I love.” 

“Non, you know he’s just a sleepy drunk, we can go home if you want-”

Wait. 

“The person you love?” you question, your eyes soften as you process his words. 

“Oh uh, you, I mean… you.” he breaks eye contact, fidgeting nervously. 

“For real?” you smile.

He laughs to himself, “Yeah dude, for real.” 

You giggle again, smiling wide and throwing your head back. As you do, his hands cup your face, bringing you back to him matching your grin. You reach up to move a strand of hair out of his hair. 

“I like jealous Vernon.” you whisper.

“Shut up.” he says, his lips finding yours in a soft and wanting kiss. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · 

You’re lying in bed, glowing with sweat, tangled up in your sheets and wrapped in Vernon’s arms. The calmness that washes over you in these moments is immeasurable, the comfort and contentedness you feel is something that you wish would last forever.  

There’s a knock on your door and you both shoot up from the bed. 

“Y/N, are you home?” Your roommate calls from the other side of the door. 

“I thought…” He whispers with wide eyes.

“Yeah… Lia’s not meant to be back until tomorrow” You reply, scrambling to throw some clothes on. 

“What do we do?”

“Y/N?” Lia calls again.

You search your room looking for some kind of escape plan before it dawns on you, there was only one option. 

You point to the closet.

He shoots you a questioning look.

“I don’t fucking know bro” you whisper, rushing to make yourself somewhat presentable.

You open the door, Vernon finally hidden, “Hey, you’re back early!” you say to Lia, trying your best to hide the fact that there was a man hiding in your closet.

“Yeah, we finished early so I got the train this morning. I was just wondering if you wanted to get lunch later?” 

“Sounds good! Give me like 30 minutes?”

“Yep that works for me” Lia says as she disappears into her room. 

You shut the door, letting out a deep breath. 

“You can come out now.”

Vernon pokes his head out of the closet, scanning the room before stepping out. You stare at each other in silence before bursting into laughter. 

“I swear I almost shat the bed!” Vernon says, throwing himself down on the mattress.

“Bro, that was crazy…” you agree, joining him on the bed.

Your laughter slowly fades into a comfortable silence.

“Should we just…” you begin.

“Tell them?” Vernon finishes.

You hum in agreement. 

“I mean… why not? As long as you’re with me, I think… I think It’ll be okay.” You speak softly, he’s quiet for a few seconds until he starts peppering kisses all over your face, smiling sweetly against your skin. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

A couple days later, you and Vernon stand in front of the restaurant, you can see your friends chatting inside the building. Your hand is in his, his thumb caressing yours. You look at each other, sharing an anxious but determined look, before nodding and walking towards the door. 

When you enter the restaurant, it’s almost comical the way that your friends turn to look at you, their eyes dropping to your interlocked hands. 

Anticipative silence fills the room as you exchange looks. 

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU GUYS!” Seungkwan yells excitedly, standing up from his chair and pointing an accusatory finger at your friends, inciting a blur of exclamations from the rest of the group. 

Vernon looks at you, smiling, before you sit down beside each other and prepare yourself for the abundance of questions coming your way.

taglist: @christinewithluv

[wikiangela]

you know when you know (I think I do)

rating: G words: 1.4k

[read on Ao3]

___

“So, you and Buck.” Eddie finally gets on the topic he was clearly inching towards the whole evening. Tommy’s lips involuntarily turn up into a smile.

“Yeah. What about us?” He asks, still turned towards the TV, then takes a sip of his beer.

“You guys are, uh, together. Dating.” Eddie fiddles with the label on his beer bottle, sounding a little hesitant and awkward.

“Have been for weeks now.” Tommy nods, smile widening at the mere thought of Evan. He leans his head back against the back of the couch, then turns more towards Eddie. “Any particular reason you’re bringing it up now?”

“Uh, not really. I mean, I’m so happy for you guys, and, uh, it’s none of my business, I just-” He takes a deep breath. Tommy waits, curious about what his friend might have to say. “Listen, Tommy, I don’t wanna be one of these friends who’s all ‘if you hurt him, I’ll kill you’, that’s not me.” Eddie starts, cringing at the words. “Besides, he’s a grown man who’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”

“True.” Tommy nods. He can already see where Eddie’s going with it. Tommy finds it sweet how much people in Evan’s life love him and care for him, and are protective of him, but not to a weird or unhealthy degree. He can appreciate that.

“But he’s my best friend.” Eddie continues. “And I just worry.”

“Okay?” Tommy prompts when Eddie falls silent, a frown on his face, like he’s considering his next words.

“He’s been through a lot. In general, but also relationship-wise. I’ve seen only part of it, but I’ve heard it all. And I just- I don’t want him to get hurt again.” 

“I’m not planning to hurt him, Eddie.” Tommy says softly. It’s obvious, and he knows what Eddie meant, but he wants to voice it anyway. He would never, ever, in a million years, do anything that could even remotely hurt his Evan. And if he did so unknowingly, he doesn’t think he’d forgive himself. Evan is such a ray of sunshine, he’s so good and sweet, and genuine, and Tommy would do anything just to keep that radiant smile on his face. 

“I know that.” Eddie shakes his head briefly. “People rarely do. It’s just that, Buck always gives a thousand percent of himself into everything.” A fond smile appears on his face, and Tommy is once again witness to the amazing bond those two have. This kind of friendship is so rare, they’re both so lucky to have each other – and Tommy is lucky to be let into it, even just a little bit. “Once he’s in, he’s in. And, Tommy,” Eddie looks him in the eyes, “Buck is definitely in, all the way, no turning back. He’s falling for you so hard and so fast, and letting all his guards down. Because that’s Buck, that’s what he does. And I just don’t want him to get too deep before you’re ready, before you’re both ready, and I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I get it.” Tommy nods once, because of course he sees where Eddie’s coming from. “But you have nothing to worry about, Eddie. With Evan…” His lips curl into a smile around the word. “I’m already so far gone.” He shakes his head a little. “I know it’s soon, but I’m really falling for him.” He says quietly, but surely. He’s not used to this, talking about his feelings, about dating, about a person he’s seeing, especially not with someone he’s only known for such a short time. But he and Eddie became fast friends, and he’s Evan’s best friend, and Tommy feels safe enough to say it. He’s also honest and straightforward, and he likes to say it how it is, and this is how it is. He’s falling – or, to be honest, has fallen already – very fast and very hard for Evan Buckley, and he doesn’t feel the need to hide it. Evan is it for him. And he’s going to tell him that soon.

“Good.” Eddie says, tone serious, but a soft smile is forming on his lips. “He’s very lovable. You’d be an idiot to not fall for him.”

“I know.” Tommy grins. From the moment they met, he knew there’s something about Evan, something that pulled him in, got his attention right away. They laughed about it later, after they officially started dating and talked about that whole situation, how Evan put so much effort into trying to get his attention, but he had it anyway, from the start. Tommy was just more subtle about it, and he couldn’t figure out if Evan was flirting that day he gave him the Harbor tour or not. Seems like even Evan didn’t know. He’s so adorable, and kind, and bright and happy like sunshine personified. How was Tommy supposed to take one look at him and not develop a crush, that only seems to keep intensifying the more he gets to know him?

“And, for the record, I don’t want you to get hurt, either. We’re friends, too. Unless you break my best friend’s heart, that is.” He adds, his tone a little teasing, before his smile changes into something fond and genuine. “I’m really happy you guys found each other, truly. I’ve never seen him like this.” He chuckles quietly, shakes his head. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but I can already tell you two just make sense. So, take good care of my best friend, Kinard.”

“Of course. I plan on it.” Tommy says, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. 

“Just, not too much PDA when I’m hanging out with you guys, yeah?” He grimaces. “I don’t wanna feel like I’m third-wheeling a boys' night.” He laughs, and so does Tommy.

“Well, I’m not really a big PDA guy anyway.” He shrugs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But who knows, I can’t really keep my hands to myself around Evan.”

“And it’s time to change the subject,” he shakes his head furiously, “I don’t wanna hear more than I have to. Buck already tells me way too much.” Eddie says quickly, and Tommy laughs again. 

But the subject changes, and their attention is mostly back on the game playing on the TV. They spend the rest of the evening like this, watching sports, drinking beer and chatting. That’s how Evan finds them when he lets himself into Tommy’s house later, since he left the door unlocked.

He walks into the room, says hi to Eddie, then unceremoniously plops down in Tommy’s lap, giving him a long, sweet kiss, smiling into it. Tommy’s free hand circles around his waist, the other still holding his beer.

“Hello to you, too, Evan, how was your day?” Tommy chuckles when they pull away, his nose rubbing against Evan’s. He was spending the day with Jee-Yun, giving Maddie and Howie the day to themselves.

“It was good, we went to the playground, and then to help Bobby and Athena with unpacking, and then had coffee at Hen’s.” Evan grins, his face still so close to Tommy’s he almost looks blurry. “But I missed you so much.” He presses another kiss to Tommy’s lips, which Tommy obviously reciprocates. When he pulls away and glances at Eddie, expecting him to have an amused but annoyed look on his face, or maybe a faux-disgust, but what he finds instead is the fondest, proudest look he’s seen from him, as he looks straight ahead at the TV, giving them a semblance of privacy. Eddie looks just genuinely so happy for his best friend, for both of them. It warms Tommy’s heart. Eddie glances at them, and their eyes meet, and he just rolls his eyes fondly, but is still smiling.

“Okay, baby, I missed you, too, but let’s leave that for later or Eddie won’t want to hang out with us anymore.” Tommy says, and Evan pulls away further, chuckling.

“Eh, we always have each other.” He teases and shrugs, and Eddie scoffs loudly.

“You know I can’t watch basketball with you. Or do Muay Thai.” Tommy raises his eyebrow, giving Evan a knowing look. He can barely watch any sports with Evan, actually, because he never really gets into it, and whenever he gets bored, somehow they end up making out through the whole thing. Evan’s really good at distracting Tommy from just about anything.

“Oh, that’s all you need me for?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Fine, then I’ll just leave you two-” he starts getting up, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Sit down and drink your beer.” Buck laughs, as he climbs off Tommy’s lap and pulls out a phone out of his pocket. Eddie sits back down, laughing as well. “I’m gonna order pizza for dinner. Any preferences?”

[read also on Ao3]

[princessbrunette]

okay random thought, but ik you mentioned that kitty’s older sister briefly dated barry. so kitty and rafe probably met through barry im assuming? like one day kitty’s and her sister are over at barry’s and rafe walks in and kitty’s probably tryna convince herself he’s just a smug asshole 😒💔

🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚

you’d only tagged along to get out the house for a little while, too cooped up — and there’s only so many tarot readings a girl can give herself before she gets bored. the lovers, four of wands — you’re going to meet someone soon! whatever.

your sister is smoking with barry out on the porch and you’re exiting your sisters boyfriends bathroom when you hear a semi-familiar voice. you try and be sneaky about it, something you can usually get away with — notorious for creeping up on people and slinking about undetected, and yet as you casually stroll the kitchen, peering out the patio doors you lock eyes with rafe cameron, stuffing his hands into his pockets. his eyes jump all across you as he attempts to identify you.

barry is rattling off about something to him, complaining about rafe overcharging unnecessarily and shooing off customers when the kook interrupts him, waving a hand as his eyes follow your form through the house, seeing you in that black mini skirt reaching up to get a glass from the cabinet. “yeah, yeah-yeah look shut up a sec. who’s that in the kitchen?” he drawls, and if your sister wasn’t so high she’d have been quicker to snap at him.

“nah, nah you’re not gonna go botherin’ that lil ass girl rafe. you’ here on business, act like it.” barry dismisses, putting his joint out in a half empty beer can and listening to it sizzle. your older sister lifts her head from the couch, frowning in disorientation at the sandy blonde.

“i didn’t say shit, okay — i just wanted to know who she is.” rafe defends irritably, ripping his eyes off you to blink at barry, wiping clammy hands down his shorts. not even a second passes before he asks another question. “how uh— how old is she anyway?”

“old enough for a real man, aka — not you.” your sister pushes her hands into the worn down patio seat and forces herself to her feet. “on that note we’re getting out of here. gonna get food.” she has the decency to alert barry of her plans for once, turning her head to watch you enter the patio with a nearly empty glass in your hand, looking a little wide eyed and curious as you swallow down your drink. you set it on the table, furrowing your eyebrows at barry.

people always thought you were fiesty, but compared to your sister you always seemed pretty meek and inoffensive.

“you finished the joint already?” you huff in a whiny tone, directed mostly towards your sisters boyfriend who lazily shrugs and gestures at your sister — pinning the blame. rafe huffs out an awkward chuckle, making his presence known and holding a hand out to you to shake.

“hey uh, i don’t think we’ve met — rafe cameron.” he introduces in that rich boy drawl. curiosity gets the better of you, and you slowly reach out to shake his hand only for your sister to smack your wrist away from his.

“c’mon. i’m hungry. don’t waste your time on him.” she rolls her red eyes, swaying her hips as she sashays off the patio somewhat elegantly for someone wearing chunky stompers.

you grab his hand before he can pull it away, muttering something along the lines of “i can shake his hand if i want to.” before rushing off to follow her without a glance behind you. rafe doesn’t miss certain things about you; the way your skirt has ridden up your ass cheeks a little as you bounce away, the slight brattiness in your tone that he couldn’t help but wanna correct, and the way his smirk lingered, only to warrant a long stare from barry.

“whatever you thinkin’ bro i suggest you don’t.”

“shit, i can’t just look at her? m’not doing anything.” rafe smiles simply, going to sit down opposite his friend on the patio seats. something about his tone made barry believe the opposite.

🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚

[strangelyunfinshed]

A quiet evening in, having drinks with your boyfriend and his roommate leads to a tempting proposal.

Part 1 of 2? WC: 1367 TW: kissing, voyeurism, alcohol

Sugar and smoke cling to your tongue as a frozen fire burns in the back of your throat. Warmth spreads inside you, sending a shiver to your skin. Lip gloss coats the rim of the tall shot glass when you place it on the scarred coffee table next to the bell-shaped bottle. Your tongue collects the remnants from your lips as you lean back, melting into the lean chest of your boyfriend behind you.

“I don’t know how you two drink that stuff,” Steve grimaces, rotating the crystal tumbler full of whiskey in his hand. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, his big hand splayed high on your thigh, toying with the edge of your skirt where you sit with one leg tucked beneath the other.

The dim light from the lamp casts a golden hue through the living room, accentuating the haze of the evening. Eddie, sprawled out on your other side, smirks as he watches you. His dark eyes glint with amusement and something else—something that has your stomach clenching.

“‘Cuz it tastes like candy,” you explain, leaning forward to run your thumb over the plump bottom lip of the chocolate-eyed boy, brushing off a gold flake only to have the wet tip of his tongue peek out and chase your finger.

Steve’s skeptical snort vibrates against your back.

“It’s not so bad,” Eddie murmurs, voice low and steady, as his unwavering gaze holds yours. Your inhale is sharper than usual, and his eyes flicker away, dropping to the floor before searching the room.

"Don't listen to him." Steve's lips are warm on your ear. "He never drank that shit before I started bringing you home." He places a kiss on your temple before trailing his lips lower, tilting your head to find the spot that has your toes curling into the carpet.

A moan so soft it’s barely above a whisper finds its way past your lips. Eddie's gaze snaps back to you. His eyes flare as he smooths his palm down his jean-covered thigh.

Heat rises from your neck to your cheeks, not entirely due to Steve or the liquor. You clear your throat with a shallow breath. “Well, I like having someone to take shots with me.” Leaning forward, you reach for the bottle, dislodging Steve’s lips as you fill the two glasses to the brim.

You nudge the other glass toward Eddie, looking up at him from under your lashes. The way his stare follows your movements has a shy smile tugging at your lips.

A huff comes from behind you. “Not that we mind you third-wheeling it, Munson, but it might be nice if you had a date every once in a while,” Steve says, downing the rest of his glass.

When you first met the roommates at a bar on campus, it was Eddie who was the shameless flirt. But after a few weeks, it hadn't amounted to anything. So when Steve asked you out, it was an easy yes. A few months later, and Eddie still hasn't brought anyone home. Steve has mentioned a time or two that he still isn't over the last girl who broke his heart.

Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes as he reaches for the glass. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on that,” he mutters, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he takes the shot.

“I’m serious man…”

A sour taste fills your mouth and you down your shot hoping the cinnamon will overpower its bitterness. 

“We were just talking about it the other day. It would be nice to see you with someone new. Instead of sitting around here shooting brooding looks at the plant.” Steve gestures at the potted fern you brought over a few weeks ago. 

“I don’t brood.” Eddie places his glass back on the table with a little more force than necessary. 

“Dude, you're like the poster child for 80’s rock ballads. Look, we just want to see you happy. Isn’t that right, angel?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, meeting his gaze, “I want you to be happy, Eddie.”

The look he gives you in return is heavier than you can hold. Your eyes lower to your hands twisting in your lap. “Isn’t there anyone you like?”

The air is trapped in your lungs while you wait for him to answer.

“No.” His reply is quiet but firm, making you swallow hard.

“Well, maybe it’s time to–” Steve makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “–Get back on the horse. Stop waiting on Miss Right and find Miss Right Now.”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s shoulders slump as his gaze drifts, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am. We’ve all been there before. All you need is a little confidence boost,” Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh, “Maybe you can help him out, angel?”

Eddie’s mouth drops open as he sucks in a breath. Your head whips around, eyes impossibly wide as you stare at Steve.

“What?” Steve asks his face the picture of innocence. “Oh,” he says after a moment, the light in his eyes turning on. “I meant maybe you could introduce him to one of your friends.”

Your shoulders relax, but tension still simmers in your stomach. Eddie clears his head with a shake, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he reaches for the bottle.

“I mean unless you two were up for it,” Steve throws out, leaning closer.

Eddie freezes his knuckles turning white as he grips the bottle. 

“Steve!!” You react the way a nice girl should but shock doesn't explain the heat pooling low in your belly or the dampness in your underwear. 

“You told me you think he's‐” 

You muffle Steve's next words by slapping your hand over his mouth, but he pries your fingers off and turns to Eddie, “She thinks you're hot.”

“I said cute,” you correct, but the clarification doesn’t stop Eddie’s lashes from lowering bashfully or the rose blooming on his cheeks.

“Same thing,” Steve grips your chin, turning your face towards him. “And anyone with eyes can see how beautiful you are. I’ll never forget how damn lucky I am to have you.”

His mouth is an irreverent caress of lips and tongue that has your heart swelling. Your thumb traces the twin freckles on his cheek, his hazel eyes lit up with warmth for you that he's never attempted to hide.

“So let me get this straight,” Eddie's gravelly voice cuts through the moment. “You, Steve Harrington, are offering for me to make out with your girlfriend?”

“You're my best friend, dude. I trust you. Besides,” His index and middle finger run along the bare skin of your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “I've always liked to watch.”

“You've never told me that,” you can't hide the surprise in your voice.

“You never asked,” he replies with a wink. He searches your face as his fingers continue their journey, lightly tracing your collarbone, down the swell of your breast, and over the hard outline of your nipple. “There are so many things I want to do with you. We haven't even scratched the surface.”

In the span of a breath, you’re clutching at the front of his shirt, your lips crashing together in a way that’s only happened behind closed doors. One hand tangles in your hair, heavy breaths and the wet sounds of your mouths fill your ears. His other hand seems to be everywhere, leaving little fires under your skin.

Eyelids heavy, you follow his hands as he turns your jaw toward Eddie. “Look at him, angel. He wants you. Don’t you, Eddie?”

Eddie’s dark eyes are almost black, his pupils blown wide, a flush heating his skin. “Yes,” he admits, loosening his grip on the couch to run a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He looks away, then his gaze locks with yours. “I do. I want you.”

The flames in you rise, chasing the butterflies into taking flight. Your breath catches, lips parting.

“It’s your decision,” Steve’s lips are at your ear. “You say no and it all stops. It’s over. Forgotten. Just say the word and we’ll give you anything you want.”

Eddie sits with tension pulling his shoulders tight, the muscles in his neck cording. His lip is caught between his teeth, his expression unguarded, eyes a silent plea, hoping not to regret his confession.

The solitary word crystallizes on your tongue, the sweetness of your drink turning it sticky, making it impossible to pass your lips.

The static charge freezes the air. Steve's fingers tease under the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your hip. His question is soft but insistent. “So, angel, what’s it going to be?”

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want a second part. Torn's chapters are just so big, I wanted a break with something short and sweet.

[chahnniesroom]

in sickness and in health

pairing: kim seungmin x female reader

summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)

a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Seungmin loves being an idol. 

He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.

But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.

He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.

It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.

The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.

You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.

—

The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately. 

He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious. 

"They keep calling," he says under his breath. 

"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.

Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.

Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.

You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.

[sent - 3:12 pm]

sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?

His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.

“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”

Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.

“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.

Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.

Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.

"Hello?"

"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.

"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”

"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."

“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”

“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.” 

There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.

“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”

“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”

“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.

—

Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.

“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”

“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.

“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”

“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”

You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.

“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.

“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”

Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.

“Mm, I wanna go home.”

“Let’s go home then.”

The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.

“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.

“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.

“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”

Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in. 

He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.

“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.

Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead. 

He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.

“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”

“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.

“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”

“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”

“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”

“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.

“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”

“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.

“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”

“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”

Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.

“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”

Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.

“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.

“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”

“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”

“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.

He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.

Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.

Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.

When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.

“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[sunsburns]

just saw your recent post!

can you write yandere dick grayson? (can be a drabble, heacanon, fic or anything i will eat it up because your writing is mwah) it's okay if you don't want to write it, just wanna say this in case you do :)) thanks for taking the time to read this!?

oh my god. (18+, voyeurism)

yandere!dick grayson has a terrible dread knawing in the pits of his stomach whenever he sees you. it comes from his gut, twisting and turning everything in its wake as it slowly crawls up, up and up into his throat, having it close up the second you look his way.

you send him soft smiles and shy waves. he crumbles into dust every single time.

but you're friends. good friends who met through a mutual friend at a bar. friends who get along well, who get brunch together once a week if life doesn't get in the way.

he's your friend and he looks out for you, keeps tabs on you, and remembers the stories you tell him, all the little details. (the chipped nail polish on your left thumb as you wave your hand around while the two of you were grabbing drinks one night. the slight twitch of your lip when you briefly mention how the guy who used to bother you at work suddenly leaves you alone.) dick likes to remember those things about you.

he likes to walk you home, to hug you before you turn around. he likes the way your body presses against his, how your arms wrap themselves around his shoulders and next, his own holding your waist closely. he thinks you fit against him perfectly.

dick only wants to make sure you get home safely, because who knows what could happen in the streets of gotham if a pretty thing like you walks alone in the dark?

there can be creeps lurking, eyeing you, following you. watching, waiting for that split second you turn around—your dress fluttering in the late breeze, the peek of your ass before you push the skirt down and hurry up the steps to your apartment building, waving at dick before stepping inside.

yeah, it would be terrible.

dick never would have considered himself a pervert, he would never call himself that. oh, but that dread that claws at him whenever you're around has him doubting himself sometimes. because how can he excuse his lingering eyes? how can he excuse the bruises on his knuckles after he beats a guy because you mentioned, barely, how he gave you a bad feeling.

well...

maybe he can brush it off because the next day you're huffing over his wounds, touching him, cleaning the crusted blood off of them, kissing the bruise.

maybe he can brush it off as taking care of you. watching you through your wide-open blinds, he can see you sleeping during those late nights on patrol. he just wants to make sure you're okay.

he just wants to make sure that there's no one hiding in the shadows of your bedroom whenever you step out of the shower, skin still wet when you toss the towel aside.

dick thought you were gorgeous. and you are. of course, other people were going to stare, but during the night, late into the after-hours, when you're alone in your bed, he makes sure that no one else can see you.

that no one else can hear the quiet sighs and moans you make when you touch yourself, how flustered you get, how your skin glows in the faint moonlight of gotham while you quiver under the sheets, lips parted and shaking, brows furrowed deeply.

dick makes mental notes of everything you do, every little detail marked to memory.

and yeah, he feels guilty. this clearly isn't how friends work, and there's probably someone getting mugged down the street that he should be helping, but staying by your window seems like a better way to spend the night.

[piedinthepiper]

Liked ★

Yandere!Seokjin x fem!reader

Summary: You liked him, liked as in past tense. Liked as in you didn’t like him anymore. He didn’t believe it for a second, and he’ll do anything to make you like him again.

Warnings: Cursing, stalking, Jin is kinda narcissistic?, he’s also mean and delusional, possessiveness, jealousy, voyeurism, smut, drugging, implied kidnapping

Wc: 5.9k

A/n: based on this req! Love the idea, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

He met you through Jimin. You were one of Jimin’s best friends, it seemed like he had known you for a long time.

So who were he to ruin Jimin’s image of you, and tell him that you were just so annoying. You were pretty yes, but it was something about your laugh. Something about the way you talked. It just rubbed Jin the wrong way. There are some people you just don’t click with, he thought to himself. As he looked at you from across the table. Some people are just not meant to be friends, and that’s ok. The only problem is that Jimin brought you with him no matter what. It was always “can y/n come?”. He asked Jimin once why he brought you around all the time.

“She just broke up with her boyfriend. Cut her some slack man.”

He had answered. But it had been eight months. Which, in his opinion, was more than enough time to heal from a breakup. But you still showed up. Every. Single. Time.

“What are you going to order, Jin?”

You asked him, looking back at him from across the table. You were slightly blushing for some reason. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, waiting for his response. In all honesty, he had been too busy thinking about you, to even read the menu.

“I don’t know yet.”

He answered in a stern voice.

“I really like the lobster here, it’s really good.”

Jin almost rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Really? Well I guess I’ll order that!”

He said with an overly excited tone. Not being able to control the sarcasm in his voice. Thankfully the waiter came before you could answer him. Everyone started saying their order, before it was his turn.

“I’ll have the salmon.”

He said and looked briefly over at you. To see if you’d have a reaction. You looked puzzled down at the menu for a second.

“I’ll have the salmon as well.”

“Wait! Jin, wait for me!”

You yelled after him, trying to run in your high heels. He had finally been able to leave. And thankfully he was able to mostly converse with Namjoon during the dinner. He had almost made it into the taxi, but you caught him. He couldn’t just shut the door in your face. He’s not directly mean to you, at least he tries not to be directly mean to you. But god, you were so annoying! Why couldn’t you just take a hint and leave him alone?

“What?”

You were a little out of breath, and needed a moment to catch your breath before talking.

“I was just- I live on the way to your place. Maybe we could, you know, share a taxi?”

He mentally cursed himself for not shutting the door in your face. Cause now he had to actually be alone with you for at least 10 minutes.

“Oh come on, I’ll pay for myself don’t worry.”

You said when you saw him hesitating.

“Fine.”

He simply answered and jumped in the backseat. Not caring to find an excuse.

“So, did you have fun tonight?”

You asked him once the taxi started moving. He sighed. Now he had to small talk with you as well.

“Yeah it was alright.”

He shrugged. He could see in his peripheral view that you were looking at him.

“The salmon was so good! You were so right about that one.”

You tried again, once he didn’t take the conversation further.

“I didn’t say anything to you about it. You just copied me.”

You laughed, thinking that he was just joking.

“You’re so funny!”

You said in between laughs, and even went as far as leaning over him in a fit of laughter. He sat completely still. Not engaging with you what so ever. Once you realised, you sat back up.

“We should go out for dinner more together. I think it would-“

“Please y/n! Just shut the fuck up!”

He suddenly bursted out. He didn’t mean to. It just came out.

“You don’t have to talk all the time. You’re so annoying!”

He looked at you, your smile was no where to be seen. And for some reason he missed it already.

“I’m sorry.”

He quickly mumbled, hoping that your lips would turn at least a little bit upwards. But they didn’t. You looked away from him, turning your face completely towards the window. Your entire body was trying the get the furtherest away from him as possible, and it hurt him for some reason. He sighed. Your place was coming up, he would probably feel better once you left the car. Out of sight, out of mind.

“I talk so much because I like you, Jin.”

You said, barley above a whisper. He looked back at you. The taxi stopped, signalising for you to get out.

“I really liked you.”

You gave him a last devastating look before opening the door and stepping out. You shut the door in his face before he could answer. It didn’t matter, he was left speechless. And he did in fact not feel any better now that you left the car. He felt even worse.

“Liked” you said you “liked him”. As in past tense. As in you didn’t like him anymore. He was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, and when he can’t sleep he starts thinking. It had been a week since the incident in the taxi. The incident where you said you “liked” him. Whatever that meant.

He would give you an apology next weekend. Pull you aside before you sit down at the table. Explain that he was just tired, that he didn’t mean it. In the moment he meant it, but he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He was amazed by the fact that he actually felt sorry for you. He didn’t like you, so why was he so obsessed with getting you to like him? Maybe he liked you more than he thought? Nah. He told himself before rolling over and closing his eyes. Trying to think of something or anything else.

Friday came around eventually, and he was ready to meet the boys (and you) at a restaurant. He walked in, a little earlier than usual. He had to pull you aside before you sat down, just so it didn’t get awkward.

“You’re early today, what’s up bro?”

Jimin lit up once he saw Jin approaching the table. He sat down beside Jimin, briefly looking at the empty seat next to him.

“Where’s y/n?”

He asked once he realised it was only the two of them. You always arrived with Jimin. He always picked you up, even if it was a longer route. Jin felt weird just thinking about it. What if Jimin had feelings for you? Why would he go to such lengths if he didn’t? The feeling in his chest couldn’t be described as anything but jealousy.

“She’s not feeling well.”

He simply commented.

“Why?”

He asked with a smug face, slightly poking him in the side with his elbow. Jin rolled his eyes, leaning away from him.

“She’s always with you, it’s not weird that I’m asking.”

He scolded his younger friend. Jimin stopped, but giggled slightly at his defensiveness.

“Whatever you say man.”

Jimin said, before changing the topic. Jin wondered if you truly was sick, or if you just didn’t want to face him. You didn’t strike him as a cowardly person. You would probably show up if you could. So the only explanation to why you wouldn’t show up to hear his apology, must be that you were sick of course.

But two weeks after that, you didn’t show. Two months passed and still no sign of you. Jin wanted to ask Jimin, but he didn’t want Jimin to think he actually cared. But he did care. He wanted to apologise for being a dick, that’s all. His conscience needed to be cleared for him to move on. At least that’s what he told himself. The first weekend after the two month mark, (not that he kept track of the time or anything), the boys went to watch a football game. It was weird that you didn’t show, considering that you loved football. You wouldn’t miss out. So Jin decided to ask again.

“Is y/n still sick? Did she fucking break her leg or something?”

He asked Jimin once they had found their places.

“I don’t know man. I asked her if she wanted to come, she said she was going with someone else.”

He said and shrugged. Someone else? Why was he hurt that you would rather go with someone else?

“Ok, I’ll go get a beer. Anyone want one?”

Namjoon was the only one who raised a hand, small excuses of work in the morning was heard from the others. He squeezed out of the row of seats. He needed to clear his head, he had to stop this obsession he had with you. After the game he would call you, and if you didn’t pick up he would go to your house. Enough was enough, he had to see you.

“Jin?”

Your voice made him turn around. There you were, two beers in hand and the familiar blue shirt of your favourite team. Your hair was in a ponytail, so he could clearly see your entire face. And you were smiling. Smiling at him like what happened two months and a week ago was ancient history.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

He mentally face palmed himself for asking something so obvious. You looked down at your shirt and back up at him.

“The same reason you are, I suppose.”

He laughed awkwardly, before you both went quiet.

“Look, y/n. I just wanted to ap-“

“Hey, babe. I’ll hold these for you.”

A man’s voice interrupted him. He looked at the man who approached you take your beers. You looked at him as well before looking back to Jin.

“I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend Hoseok.”

Jin was left speechless at your choose of words to describe the man. You had a boyfriend now?! The feeling of jealousy started to spread through his chest again.

“This is Jin, Jimin’s friend.”

You told this Hoseok, when he didn’t answer. Jimin’s friend? That was it? He was offended by the fact that you didn’t view him as more. You had a crush on him for gods sake!

“I’d shake your hand man, but you know.”

He raised the beers in his hand awkwardly. Jin still kept quiet. Not wanting to utter a simple word to the man you dared calling your boyfriend.

“I’ll catch up with you, just go back to the seats, ok?”

You told your boyfriend, and he happily complied walking away from the uncomfortable situation.

“Why are you acting so strange?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know. I just- I thought you had a crush on me. But now you have a boyfriend, so.”

You smiled at him.

“I liked you, yeah. But after you rejected me in that taxi, I moved on. It’s not that deep, some people just don’t click.”

His stomach turned into knots, he hated the way you sounded like him. He hated the way you spoke about him. That it wasn’t that deep? Well, it was really deep to him. Extremely deep actually.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really am. I should’ve never said those things to you.”

He managed to apologise, regardless of the burning anger he felt inside. How dared you reject him? He rejected you first.

“Jin, it’s ok. Seriously. It’s all in the past.”

You patted his shoulder before taking a step away from him.

“Tell the boys I said hi.”

You said before walking away. This was not how this was going to end. He had spent two months and a week thinking about exactly how you would respond, and what would happen after. You were not supposed to be so nonchalant and run away to your new boyfriend. You were supposed to accept his apology and run into his arms. Maybe even give him a kiss and a blowjob for his effort to be so empathetic. He was going to make things right.

He couldn’t sleep again. How could he after you basically dumped him? So he started thinking. Why would you do such a thing? Why would you hurt him? He knows that he hurt you, but he apologised. So you should stop whatever prank you got going on and come back to the group. Come back to him. He really didn’t know why he felt this need for you. Before all this he literally couldn’t stand you. But now it’s like he yearned for you. And it was baffling to him that you didn’t feel the same.

Maybe you were just using that Hoseok guy to make him jealous. Yeah, that’s it. This was your payback. He laughed at the thought and sat up in his bed. Turning on the lamp on his nightstand. Might as well pay you a visit.

He payed the taxi driver before closing the door carefully. It was the middle of the night, not a soul to see in your neighbourhood. He looked up at your apartment building, he knew you lived on the seconds floor. The light in your living room was on. He quickly looked down at his phone. 02:38 am. You should’ve been asleep already.

He walked over to the other side of the road to get a better view of your living room. Trying to get a glimpse of you in your natural habitat. And to his surprise you were there. Completely naked. He felt a familiar feeling in his groin once he saw what was going on behind those walls. You were on the sofa on top of your new boyfriends dick. Your back was turned towards the window, giving Jin a perfect view of your ass bouncing up and down. Jin ripped his eyes away from you to check if anyone else was seeing this. But no lights were on, and no bystanders. What a freak you were, having sex right in front of a window where anyone could see.

Or maybe you were doing it for him? The curtains were slightly open, just enough open for him to see you. Maybe you didn’t shut them completely, for him? Maybe you hoped he would show up after the two of you met the same day? It was working for him. Mesmerised by the way your body moved in pleasure, he slid his hand into his pyjama bottoms. He couldn’t help himself. You looked so good, and you were so perfectly placed that he could see the dick going in and out of you. His only wish was hearing you. He wanted to hear you moan so bad. Suddenly you slowed down. Jin’s hand moved faster, trying to reach release before the show was over. Just one last bounce before you sank down beside him. Now facing the window. He continued, now seeing your heaving naked chest sprawled out on the sofa. He was close, very close. And once he saw you get up and walk towards the window completely naked, body glistening, tits slightly bouncing, he couldn’t help but feel a euphoric release.

Reality hit him immediately after. In the time it took for him to ride out his orgasm, you had made it to the window. Now staring directly at him. He quickly pulled his hand out of his trousers, turning around to face the wall immediately. The sticky wet spot that made the fabric of his pyjamas stick to his skin, was a shameful reminder. He didn’t know if you had seen him. He didn’t know if you were calling the police, or still looking at him. But he stood completely still, awaiting his destiny. After a few minutes he pulled his phone up from his pocket, calling for a taxi back to his place.

It wasn’t until he heard the taxi pull up he dared turning around. His eyes flickered up to the window. No sight of you, no sight of nothing. The curtains were shut completely this time.

It was Saturday, Jimin had invited the boys to his house for a few drinks and some food. Jin hadn’t gotten drunk in some time and quite frankly needed it to forget whatever madness happened the weekend before. So he gladly accept once Jimin proposed the idea in the group chat. Something he would regret.

“Can you get the door? I can’t let this burn man.”

Jimin asked and pointed to whatever he was making on the stove. Jin, being the first to show up that night was more than happy to welcome one of his mates, and walked over to the door.

“Jin! It’s so nice to see you again.”

You said and gave him a small hug as you stepped into Jimin’s apartment. He was left speechless. By you, but also by the man that followed you inside. You brought your boyfriend?

“Hey man!”

Hoseok said and stretched out his hand for him to shake. Jin just stood there looking at his hand. He couldn’t move. Too terrified that this was your way of revenge. You were going to expose him as the creep that jerked off outside your house to all his friends. And on top of that you brought your boyfriend to rub it even more in his face.

“You know what, I’m a hugger anyways.”

Hoseok laughed and pulled him in to a tight hug once he didn’t shake his hand. Once he pulled away from the hug, Jin smiled at him. He couldn’t risk getting on the bad side of Hoseok either. Maybe you told him?

“Sorry, Hoseok right?”

He asked and took his hand in his. Your boyfriend chuckled and nodded. What a ray of fucking sunshine of a boyfriend you got. Not completely different to himself, he thought.

“Oh please, just call me Hobi!”

He smiled before walking past Jin and following you inside. Jin continued to stand by the door for a second as he heard both you and your boyfriend greet Jimin in the kitchen. He had to talk to you. He had to pull you aside before you got the chance to reveal his big dirty secret. The boys would think he was disgusting, a creep, a weirdo. What the hell was he doing here? He had to run away. Run far far away and never come back.

“Are you ok?”

He got ripped out of his thoughts and realised the tall figure standing in front of him.

“Ah, Namjoon. You scared me.”

He tried to play off. As if he wasn’t standing in front of the open entrance door just staring out into the hallway.

“I’m ok yeah, but what about you? What have you been up to?”

He said and threw his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders, leading him into the apartment.

“Woah, ok. It’s only been a week since we last saw each other.”

An hour had passed. You still hadn’t said anything. Not even mentioned that night. He had taken a few shots out of agony and suspense. He couldn’t get drunk. No, not while you were a ticking bomb ready to ruin his image forever. He had to stay sober so he could defend himself whenever the situation arose. Or if he was lucky enough to get you alone so he could convince you, hell maybe even beg for you not to say anything. He would do anything for you. For you not to say anything, of course.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

You announced, slightly intoxicated. You were so cute, your face a little red and your words a little slow.

“I have to go to the bathroom too!”

Jin quickly said, getting up quickly. The room got quiet. He realised he had said that a little loud and with a little too much excitement.

“Ok.”

You shrugged, walking away from the table. Everyone started talking again, meaning he was in the clear. He stumbled after you.

“After you, princess.”

You said as you proudly held the bathroom door open for him. He would’ve smiled at your joke if this wasn’t a serious situation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go first.”

You mumbled and started unbuttoning your trousers. He nodded. He didn’t even have to pee.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“I’m not drunk enough to pee while you’re watching me.”

He panicked at your words and didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Oh- uh. Do you want me to leave?”

You laughed.

“No silly. Just turn around.”

He did as instructed.

“I’m sorry, ok? I should’ve never done that! Please, just don’t tell the others y/n. I won’t recover from it.”

He started pleading, still facing the door. You went quiet for a few seconds. He gulped, anxious of what you would answer.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You said and flushed the toilet. He turned around knowing you were finished. You were struggling with the button of your jeans, but looking at him with a confused look.

“Are you playing with me? Please if you are, don’t, I can’t handle that right now.”

You started washing your hands.

“No, Jin. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is this about that time in the taxi again? Cause I told you it’s ok.”

“No. I mean- uh. Yes?”

He didn’t know what to say. Did you really mean it? Had you not seen him that night? A wave of relief washed over him. If you were telling the truth he was the luckiest man alive.

“What?”

“It’s about last weekend.”

He tested, seeing if you would remember.

“And?”

You asked puzzled. He let out a breath of relief. You were completely clueless.

“I didn’t mean to be so awkward with your- ehhh, Hobi.”

He managed to get out, not wanting to call him your boyfriend out loud. Now that he wasn’t caught and labelled a total pervert, he still had a chance to win you back.

“My Hobi, huh? You’re cute Jin.”

You said as you unlocked the door.

“You’re forgiven by the way.”

You closed the door behind you, and he quickly locked it. He had never felt more relieved in his entire life. Maybe you weren’t looking at him, maybe you were just looking around to see if anyone saw? And maybe he was fortunate enough to be well enough hidden that night to not get caught. Well, he knew he would be more careful the next time. He shook his head, baffled by his own words. The next time? He thought as he flushed the toilet. He didn’t understand what he felt towards you, but he wanted there to be a next time. He wanted the next time to be him underneath you, not your stupid boyfriend. He unlocked the door and started walking down the hallway. He didn’t want to admit it to himself before, but maybe he actually liked you. Like, liked liked you. He sat back down at the table. Taking another shot now that he could actually get drunk.

“Ooo, where are you going?”

Jimin asked you. Jin hadn’t heard the first part of the conversation, but pretended he had been here the entire time.

“This very fancy spa hotel. He said it was an early birthday present.”

You said and looked lovingly at your boyfriend.

“Wow, you’re lucky! You must really love her, Hobi!”

“You’re leaving?”

Jin asked you, ignoring Jimin’s hilarious comment, and quite honestly he didn’t want to hear Hobi’s answer to that. You nodded.

“Yeah, next Friday.”

He took another shot, drowning the jealousy that was starting to bubble inside him.

“I just don’t know what to do with the cats. I’ve asked a bunch of people, but everyone’s busy.”

“I’ll watch them!”

Jin blurted out, almost too excited.

“Are you sure? I’ll pay you if you want to-“

“No, no need to pay me. Don’t have anything happening next weekend anyways.”

“Weren’t you going out of town to see your parents next weekend?”

Namjoon asked with confused brows. Jin mentally cursed him for almost ruining his plan.

“No, that’s the weekend after. I’m completely free next weekend, ready to watch some cats.”

You smiled at him, he had missed that smile so much. To ever think that he didn’t like your smile was insane. What was even more insane was the fact that he blindly said yes to watch your cats, just to be in your house. But he’ll happily feed those little fuckers if it meant that he had full access to your home.

“Again, thank you so much. You’re a life saver!”

You yelled out the window of your car as you and your boyfriend drove away. He waved goodbye as he watched the car slowly disappear in the horizon. Once you were gone he hurried into your apartment, ready to snoop around. He only did it to get to know you more of course. He wanted to know every single little thing about you that only your home could reveal. He sat down on the sofa on the exact spot where he saw you have sex. He felt the soft fabric between his fingers, thinking of that night. He slowly laid down face first, wanting to be close to the spot where you sat completely naked. He rubbed his cheek on it, slightly smelling hints of your perfume. He could stay like that forever. Just frolicking in your scent.

But one of your cats jumped up beside his face, ruining the moment. He got up, annoyed at the grey fluffy animal. He silently pushed the cat off, but when it once again jumped up beside him he decided to look around somewhere else.

He found the bathroom, opening up the cupboard next to the mirror. Some makeup, some skin care, tweezers, tampons. Nothing exciting. He opened the door to your shower, nothing but numerous soaps. He looked over at the bin for a second and wondered if he was willing to go that low. Once he saw your dirty laundry he decided against it. He opened the lid and started digging, a mixture of your perfume and your natural scent hit him. He had never been happier. He suddenly stopped and pulled out a singular thong. It was baby pink with lace. He imagined how good you would look in it. He stuffed it in his hoodie, deciding to venture off to your bedroom.

He immediately opened the nightstand, hoping for something good. And you delivered. Toys of all kinds in different flashy colours. He smiled as he picked up the hot pink dildo. He wondered if you ever thought of him while using it. The thought alone making his pants feel tighter. He walked back to the sofa, he knew what he wanted to do now.

Jin was watching tv in your house once he heard the door open. He knew you would be arriving that day, so he managed to be on his best behaviour and not jerk off in every room of your apartment that day. Small things to make you happy. He quickly got up to welcome you.

“You got home quite late, I was starting to worry.”

No he wasn’t, he knew exactly at what time you would be home. He found a copy of your reservation at the hotel and calculated the time it took for you to get here. But he wanted you to know that he cared.

“No need, I’m home.”

You gave him a forced smile. Something was wrong. A feeling of excitement rushed through him. You came home alone, did this mean that-? Did you really break up with Hobi? He held back a smile.

“Here let me help you.”

He said and reached for your suitcase. Your grip tightened.

“No it’s fine.”

You simply said and rolled it into your apartment. He headed you sigh. He wanted to wait a little longer to see if you would break. Hoping that you would tell him the good news and not let the suspense kill him.

“Can we talk?”

You asked and looked back at him, removing your coat. He nodded understandingly as he took your coat before you could protest and hung it up. You walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Putting your head in your hands.

“Do you want something to drink? I can make you-“

“No, Jin. Please just sit down.”

You were visibly upset, so he followed up on your request. Sitting down opposite of you. You took a few seconds before you started talking.

“Do you care to explain why you did what you did while I was gone?”

You asked and looked up at him. He froze. This was not the good news he was expecting. This wasn’t happening. How could you know?

“What are you talking about?”

He said and tried to laugh it off. You shook your head.

“So you’re telling me you have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You asked strictly. He gulped.

“No, y/n. I’ve just been watching your cats. Did I do something wrong?”

You let out another sigh before you pulled up your phone. You touched the screen a few times before your turned it around, showing him exactly what you were talking about. He watched in horror as he saw himself in your bed with his hand around his dick. The other hand was holding your underwear under his nose.

“There are many more of these videos.”

You said as you retracted your phone.

“I don’t need to see them.”

He quickly answered as you put your phone back in your pocket.

“Fine, but I want to know why, Jin.”

His mind was racing. How the fuck was he supposed to dig himself out of this one? You had physical proof now. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

“I didn’t know I was being filmed.”

He muttered as a poor excuse.

“Me neither. I set those cameras up when I didn’t think I would find someone to watch the cats. Unfortunately for you I forgot to take them down.”

He went silent again, slipping his hands into his deep pockets. Feeling around, trying to come up with a solution.

“Please tell me you have a logical explanation for all this. Why did you masturbate every single day with my stuff while I was gone?”

You seemed more upset that you couldn’t make any sense out of it, compared to what he actually did. Maybe if he just confessed you would forgive him.

“I like you, y/n. No, I actually think I love you. I’m in love with you.”

He blurted out. You were taken aback at his sudden honesty.

“I don’t understand why, I used to hate you. I never liked you. But ever since the incident in the taxi I haven’t been able to take my mind off you.”

He reached for your hand over the table, but you quickly pulled away.

“I love you, y/n!”

“So why didn’t you tell me? Why did you do this instead? You realise how fucking crazy you sound right now, right?”

You snapped back at him. Coughing slightly afterwards at your sudden outburst.

“Let me make you a cup of tea, it’ll help with that cough.”

He said calmly. You shook your head.

“I don’t want tea, I want you to leave my house right now!”

“Please, can we just talk about this like adults? I don’t want to fight with you.”

You stopped, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“Let me put the kettle on, and I’ll tell you everything. Just please, I care about you.”

You touched your throat as you slowly nodded. He quickly got up and started the kettle.

“I did it because I didn’t want to ruin your relationship. I saw how happy you were with Hobi. I thought this was my only way to be close to you.”

He tried his best to get you to feel sorry for him. He knew you would be much better off with him than that excuse of a boyfriend you had. He just wanted to pull on your heartstrings. Even if it was completely a lie.

“I just- sorry. I’m sorry. But I’m crazy about you, y/n. I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know what to do.”

You looked down at the table as he prepared your tea.

“Do you want sugar and milk?”

He asked carefully.

“Just sugar.”

You answered after a few beats of silence. You were clearly fighting some sort of mental battle. But it was alright, he was going to make that decision for you.

“I really care about you. I’ve been nothing but a dick to you, I know. But I want to make it up to you.”

He placed the tea on the table before you. You stirred it a couple of times as you waited for the tea to get ready.

“It’s just really uncomfortable, Jin. Yes I used to have a crush on you but that doesn’t give you the right to do such things.”

You scolded him as you brought the cup to your mouth slightly blowing at the hot beverage.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

He said and bowed his head in fake defeat. This wasn’t his loss. Sooner than later you would be his.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I need time to think about all this. It’s all too much for me right now.”

You took a sip, feeling the sweet warm drink soothe your sore throat. You immediately took another big sip to get the feeling back.

“I get it. I’ll give you all the time you need when we get to your new home.”

He said bluntly. You crossed your eyebrows at his comment.

“My new home?”

He nodded.

“You’ll love it there. Just you and me. We can spend as much time as you’d want to heal all the shitty things I’ve done to you.”

You shook your head.

“What? What are you talking about?”

You felt your sight getting blurry, your body suddenly felt really heavy.

“What- what have you done to me?”

You slurred as you fell back in your chair. Tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself loosing control of your body.

“It’s ok, baby.”

Jin got up from his chair and walked over to you. In your last efforts you slung yourself off the chair and onto the floor, trying to crawl away from him.

“I’m sorry, but I had to do this. I’m sure you’ll forgive me once you realise what an amazing life we’ll have together.”

He bowed down and grabbed you. Making you look at him. Finally you would be his and his only.

“Fuck you.”

You managed to say before the drugs made you close your eyes and fall limp in his arms. You looked beautiful, he thought. Like sleeping beauty just waiting for him to save you. It would probably take some time for you to forgive him, but like he said, he would give you all the time you needed. And eventually you would realise that you were made for each other. He would make sure of that.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[the-froschamethyst4]

Big Dick Energy

𖤐Pairing: Mafia! Alejandro x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, eating out, P in V, fingering, blowjob, smoking, drinking, flirting, tatted up Alejandro, married couple, mention of nudity, drunk love, dirty nickname (slut),

𖤐Summary: Alejandro was cruel and he just gives off big dick energy, I mean you should know, you’re his wife, so how big is it?

————

————

Alejandro sat on a velvet red couch watching people dance around in his club. He hated these people, they came, they go, what can you do, but he hates the people that only use him.

He swirls his glass around and looks at the man talking to him from the corner of his eye, he hated this guy. He always got on Alejandro's nerves, every little thing.

"God don't you ever shut up?" Alejandro mumbled to himself, the guy wouldn't have heard Alejandro, the music was too loud.

"I mean come on, I should have won my bet, but of course that stupid card had to take it all away," all Alejandro knew this guy was talking about poker.

He couldn't give two flying shits about poker, Alejandro is running an empire here, he makes money all on his own and along with hiring some people, he doesn't need to waste his time on stupid betting games.

He already owns a club that makes millions when he's here or not. He looks on the dancefloor to see someone, his wife. She liked to join Alejandro when he comes to the club for business. Tonight was like any other night, he did his job and she danced and had fun.

Everyone knew not to mess her because if they did, Alejandro would have their head and heart on a silver plater.

Her body glide across the dancefloor as she had fun, Alejandro kept a close eye on her. Y/n made eye contact with her husband slowly moving off the dancefloor and walking towards him, her hips moving from side to side.

She moves closer to him and sat on his lap, he just looked up at her his hand moving to her bare thigh.

"Can you go?" He asks the guy next to him.

"Me? I-I guess," the guy left and Alejandro looked at Y/n giving her a smile, his left hand going to her cheek cupping it and kissing her jaw.

"You look so beautiful," he says kissing her jaw some more.

"I know you told me before we left the house," she giggles.

"Y/n..." she looks down at him.

"Yes?"

"We should head home...I'm tired here, bored here, let's go home," he says. She got off his lap and he grabbed her hand pushing through the crowd and heading to the front doors, pulling them open and a black McLaren pulled up, the valet got out of the car and gave Alejandro his keys.

He opens the door for Y/n and she gets in. He drove them home, his hand rested on her thigh and the other gripping the stirring wheel. Y/n played with his big fingers as she looks out of the window watching the buildings pass by.

"Did you have fun?" His voice broke the silence.

"Yeah, I did, I didn't get a chance to drink though."

"I'll make you something at home," he says.

"Good," she smiles at him.

--------

Once home Alejandro helped Y/n out of his car and they headed inside the mansion. Alejandro twirled Y/n around her heels in his hand and a big smile on his face.

Alejandro always kept his heart close to the world and never thought he will EVER find love, he deemed it as impossible for himself to ever find love or fall in love.

Once he met Y/n his heart was open and he fell in love, he married her a year after they started dating and the wedding happened within a week, Alejandro wanted everything perfect for her and once married, Alejandro and Y/n wanted their time together before the thought of children ever come into their lives.

Y/n plops on the couch kicking her feet onto the coffee table and Alejandro went to the bar pouring her a mixed drink. She fluffs up her hair and then took the drink from her husband.

"Thank you, love."

"Anything for you, mi amor (my love)," he kisses her lips, holding her chin and started to briefly make out.

"Alejandro, please..." she says as his lips attacked her neck. She brings the glass to her lips taking a sip of the drink.

Alejandro then stops and starts pulling at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt completely showing off his toned body. She smiles at him, placing her drink down on the coffee table and she starts moving to his pants.

Unbuckling his pants and unbuttoning his pants as well. She gets a full view of his bulge in her face. She licks her lips as she looks up at him, gently kissing his bulge and slowly moving her hand up to his boxers next, but he holds her wrist from stopping her from going any further which made her groan.

"Come on, baby," she says, looking up at him.

"You'll have your fun in a little bit," he says, kissing her lips. "First off, I'm fucking hungry, you want anything?" he asks, before walking to the kitchen.

"I want you," she pleads.

"No, food," he says as he opens the fridge.

"Fine," she groans rolling off the couch and grabbing her drinks and she walks to the kitchen. "I want spaghetti," she says.

"Alrighty then," he says, grabbing noodles, two pots and some sauce.

"Can I help with anything?" She asks.

"Just sit there and look pretty, I got this," he says, cupping her face and kissing her lips again.

And she did just that, sitting on the marble counter, her short dress riding up to her thighs exposing a bit of her lacy underwear, she crosses her ankles leaning forward as her hands were planted on the counter.

"Can I try the sauce?" Alejandro usually made it homemade.

"Sure, mi amor," he dips the spoon in and brings it to her mouth.

"Good, very good, like usual," she says, kissing his lips.

"I'm glad, I didn't do anything different but I get worried that I may have missed an ingredient or something."

"It probably would still be good anyways," she smiles getting off the counter and hugging his waist.

After a while Alejandro and Y/n were eating dinner at their dinner table, Alejandro was drinking whiskey as Y/n was drinking wine like usual. Alejandro just stares at Y/n as she eats.

"Do I have something on my face?" She asked, taking the napkin and going around her mouth, all she got off was some lipstick.

"Nah, nothing, you're just so...sexy."

"You're a flirt."

"I'm your flirt," he smirks, leaning on his palm and still staring at her.

Alejandro then smirks before sliding down his chair and he's never done this before but crawled to Y/n's legs that were crossed, when he gets to her knees, his rough and calloused hands touching her made her jump.

"A-Ale-" she was soon cut off by his tongue licking a stripe up her wet panties. She tossed her head back and her fingers started to go through his soft hair.

"F-Fuck," she moans as he hooks his fingers around the helm of her panties and pulled hem down taking them off and licking between her wet folds now.

Her legs wanted to close so badly but his hands were holding her thighs open, she whines and grips his soft hair. Her right hand went to his hand holding open her legs. His large tatted hand made her look so small.

Alejandro then looks up at her through his long sweaty hair, she moans and leans her back, Alejandro then proceeds to move his mouth causing her to groan.

Alejandro smirks licking his fingers and then sticking them inside of her and his mouth went back around her lower half licking at her bud, and moving his fingers quickly in and out of Y/n.

She could feel herself about to cum soon, Alejandro smirks moving his mouth again and this time just his fingers.

"Come on, mi amor, come on," he groans moving his fingers faster in and out of her, she was a moaning mess. She ended up coming on his fingers, he smirks before licking her clean and then picking her up.

Taking her up to their shared bedroom, placing her on the bed, he lifts up the bottom of her dress and takes it off her completely. He smirks seeing her breasts on full display for him, she smiles and her face is a little heated up from embarrassment.

"Don't feel embarrass, amor, we've done it before."

"I know," she says, running her hands down her thighs feeling how smooth and soft they were. Alejandro started to unbutton the rest of his shirt and she helps him unbuckle his pants.

He looks down at her when his dick sprung out of his pants. Y/n licks her lips and then kisses his tip, he tosses his head back, hand going behind her head. Her mouth now around him, in a way of repaying him.

He smirks knowing how good his wife is. She looks up at him, she sits on her knees, hands on his thighs and her nose sometimes touching his lower stomach, he moans.

"God, you're s-so good at this," he says, licking the corner of his mouth and smirking down at her. Alejandro knows he's big, and thick, and he also knows Y/n can take him like it's nothing.

He doesn't want to say he 'trained' her to take his cock, but he did. She's gotten so use to him that taking him was no problem whatsoever.

"God, you are such a slut, taking me so well," his hand cupped under her chin as she continued to suck him off. She moved her mouth and starts pumping him quickly. She opens her mouth as cum squirts from his tip into her mouth.

"Fuck, mi amor," he says.

He lays in the middle of the bed, legs semi spread, arms resting on the headboard of the bed, Y/n looking at him between his legs. Before anything else starts, Alejandro leaned over into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a cigarette lighting it and then looking back at Y/n.

"Come on, amor, one more," he says, she crawls on top of him. Taking his dick and aligning it at her entrance. She slowly sinks herself onto his dick, slowly bouncing at first.

Her hands resting on his shoulders, his cigarette going between his lips and his hands holding her waist helping her pick up the pace just a bit.

Her moans tossing her head back her body had collapsed on his chest, he smirks and then sits back up looking at him now.

"Am I-I going to fast?"

"Amor, go as fast or slow as you need," he says, moving the cigarette from his lips tapping the burnt end into his little ash tray next to the bed and proceeding to kiss her neck.

Y/n didn't mind the smoking, she lowkey thought it was hot, and sexy, he didn't do it all the time which also made Y/n not mind it.

She starts to move fast, Alejandro smirking when hearing her moans come from her lips. He leans forward taking her lips into his, it became a heated make out session now.

Alejandro cupping her face, and kissing her lips. His rough hands held her waist and his tongue soon passed her lips. Y/n moved her mouth to be able to breath now, his lips attacked her neck. His hands cupping her breasts.

Y/n looks down at the cigarette and taking it from his fingers and putting it in her mouth, Alejandro knew she didn't smoke and it caught him by surprise when she took it and blew out smoke with no issue.

"Amor?"

"You have shitty taste in cigarettes," she said through a slightly disgusted look.

"But I have good taste in women," he says, laying Y/n on her back taking back is cigarette putting it back between his lips and starts picking up the pace. Her arms go around his neck, and he leans down taking her left nipple into his mouth suckling on her and flicking her bud with his tongue.

"G-God, I'm g-going to cum," she moans.

"Do it, amor, I can feel you squeeze around me," he says, putting his head back.

She let's out another moan before she felt herself coming, Alejandro sits up placing his hand on her lower stomach feeling his dick bulge in her. He then ends up coming inside of her.

----------

Alejandro was against the headboard and holding Y/n against his body. He put his cigarette out and rubbed Y/n's waist.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Yes," she says back, bring up the blanket over her shoulders.

Her naked body, was so warm while his was burning hot. Alejandro looks down at Y/n rubbing her soft body with his rough hands, she looks up at him.

"What?"

"Nothing...I just want to hold you for a little bit," he says, before kissing the top of her head.

Y/n smiles up at him.

"I love you."

"I love you too, mi amor."

[drabbles-mc]

Out of Practice

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: milf/dilf

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, steamy things, reader is a mom, bucky hasn't dated in like 70 years

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: I had no idea what I was going to do for this prompt for the longest time but then tonight this all fell outta me in one sitting lmao. enjoy some cameos from Sam and Tony! And thanks again to @buckybarnesevents and @rookthorne for putting this event together 💖

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Bucky was standing at the bottom of the walkway that led to the main doors of the school. Despite the warmth that came from the late spring weather, he still had on his leather jacket and gloves. He was far from the only person standing out and waiting for the final bell to ring, but he still felt like he stood out. No matter how much time went by that was a feeling he had yet to shake.

He pried his eyes off the cracked concrete beneath his boots when the bell rang, shortly followed by the front doors of the school being pushed open by dozens upon dozens of kids desperate to get out and head home. Many of them were sprinting off towards the buses, but some were making a direct line right where Bucky was standing with the rest of the parents and other family members. He kept his eyes peeled, but he still didn’t see who he was looking for.

A couple minutes ticked by and for a moment he wondered if he had shown up at the wrong place, or on the wrong day. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket when the front door opened up again. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Morgan walking out, jacket tied around her waist and backpack settled on her shoulders. She was looking up at the woman next to her, the two of them talking as the woman balanced a child who looked like she was just barely old enough to be in kindergarten on her hip.

When Morgan looked away, she immediately saw Bucky. A smile broke out across her face as she threw a hand up to wave, an expression and gesture that he returned. He took a few steps so that he met her right where the walkways met. She walked right up to him, holding both hands out in closed fists. Bucky’s grin widened slightly as he held his fists out as well, tapping their knuckles together before the both pulled their hands back, making an exploding sound and gesture as they did.

Once they completed their ritual, Bucky turned his attention to you. You were smiling at the sight of the two of them, but he could see the questioning look still lingering in your eyes. “You must be Uncle Bucky, then?” you asked, although the answer seemed fairly obvious.

He chuckled, looking briefly at Morgan before he returned his attention back to you. “Yeah, but just Bucky is fine.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did so carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping child on your hip as you gave him your name in return. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing her out.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Just like to make sure that everything’s alright when someone new is picking up one of my students.”

“I tried to tell her you weren’t new,” Morgan interjected, her sarcasm making her sound so much like her father despite only being nine years old.

You shook your head with a knowing smile. “New to me, then,” you corrected.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said with a small shake of his head. “I get it.”

“I appreciate that.” You looked back and forth between the two of them, an odd but fitting pair. “I’ll let you two go. It was nice to meet you, Bucky.” You shifted your gaze to the young girl standing beside him. “And I will see you on Monday, Miss Morgan.”

Morgan was already saying goodbye and turning to head off towards Bucky’s care by the time the words left your mouth. Bucky, however, was still staring at you, looking at the way you were balancing the little girl on one hip while you had her backpack on the opposite shoulder, your own bag hanging in the crook of your arm. He knew that this was probably far from the first time you left the school building with your hands full but he still felt like it was wrong to not at least offer to help.

“Do you need help with—”

“I’ve got it,” you reassured him with a smile, taking a step towards the parking lot, “but thank you.”

He didn’t try to offer again, taking your word for what it was worth. Turning, he easily collapsed the distance between himself and Morgan in one stride, and the two of them started walking off towards his car. You heard the two of them talking as they walked away. Or, rather, you heard Morgan talking about her day and Bucky chiming in with a word of acknowledgment. You cast a couple brief looks at them as you walked over to your car, smiling at the sight of them.

You returned your focus to the task at hand as you tried to get your daughter into her booster seat in the back of your car. You weren’t too worried, since she had luckily been a heavy sleeper ever since she was born, but you still tried to be extra careful. You were clicking her seatbelt into place when you heard Bucky’s car engine rumbling to life.

You caught a glimpse through your own car’s windshield as they drove by, Morgan sitting behind the empty passenger seat of Bucky’s car. They were out of you line of sight as quickly as they’d entered it. When they were gone again you set both your bag and your daughter’s on the floor by her feet.

~*~

“Ew, no,” Morgan said as she shook her head, her and Bucky looking at each other through the rearview mirror, “he’s gross. All the boys in my grade are.”

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Your dad will be happy to hear that.”

“I don’t even want a boyfriend.”

Bucky fought to the urge to give his knee-jerk response which would’ve been, “Well, yeah, you’re fucking nine.” Instead, he asked, “You tell him that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “He went and asked Chrissy instead.”

“Worked out for you,” Bucky said, throwing his directional on before turning onto the main road away from the school. “You don’t need a boyfriend—you’re fine.”

“Dad says that you need a girlfriend.”

Bucky nearly choking on the breath he was pulling in. His eyes drifted from the road and back to the mirror to look at her. “What?”

“What?” she parroted back to him, blissfully unaware of why he reacted that way. “That’s what he said.”

Bucky was shaking his head, gaze fixed back on the road once more. “Yeah? Well your dad’s a—”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, a genuine sound. “Ever? Yeah.”

“This century?”

His eyebrows raised, surprised but also not. “You gotta stop listening to your dad all the time.”

A wide grin blossomed across her face. “But have you?”

He shook his head. “I thought we were cool,” he said sarcastically.

Morgan laughed hard enough at that to usher them into another topic of conversation with the rest of the drive home. Bucky went the long way, swinging through McDonald’s on the way since he was told that was fine this time around. It killed a little more time anyway, which was really what he needed. The only reason that he has the one enlisted to go and pick Morgan up in the first place was because Tony and Pepper were both running late with work. Not terribly so, but late enough that they didn’t want to ask her teacher to stay and wait.

Even with the extra stop planned in, and the most scenic route as possible taken, it still didn’t take them very long to get home. Before either of them could think much of it Bucky was rolling into Tony and Pepper’s driveway.

Bucky had just put the car in park when Morgan jumped out of the car, backpack strap in one hand and happy meal in the other. Bucky shook his head at her, laughing as he got out of the car much slower than she had. He finally felt comfortable enough to take off his gloves, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked towards Tony’s porch.

Morgan had left the door opened behind her, so Bucky walked through and closed it as he did. When he looked around the room he saw that Morgan had already made her way over to her father and gotten swept off the ground in a hug.

As Tony was setting her back down on the floor, he asked, “You got some extra fries for me, right?”

Morgan laughed. “No way.”

Tony faked deep offense at her response. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Bucky piped in. “I didn’t get you any either, for the record.”

Tony smirked. “That much I expected.”

Morgan looked around the room a little more, and when she didn’t see Pepper, she asked, “Where’s Mom?”

Tony gestured deeper into the house. “She’s out back.”

Morgan tossed both her backpack and her McDonald’s box of food onto the counter. “I’m gonna go say hi!” She pointed at Tony. “Don’t eat my fries.” She turned and pointed at Bucky. “Don’t let him eat my fries.”

Bucky gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am.”

When Morgan had scampered out of the room, Tony’s full attention shifted to Bucky. “Thanks for picking her up—I know it was short-notice.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Went okay?”

He nodded. “Teacher came out to make sure I wasn’t some kidnapper, but yeah, it went okay.”

Tony chuckled as he opened the fridge. “Figured she would.” He grabbed a beer for himself and offered one to Bucky, when he declined he shrugged with a suit yourself expression and let the door fall shut.

“Why’s your nine-year-old telling me I need to get a girlfriend?” Bucky asked as he watched Tony pop the cap off the bottle.

Tony didn’t miss a beat. “My guess is because you need to get a girlfriend.”

“Tony—”

“You met her teacher then, right?” Tony shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “She’s single. And cu—”

Bucky’s tone shifted drastically as he repeated himself. “Tony.”

The hand that wasn’t holding the beer bottle was held up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“That why you sent me to pick her up? Is Happy even busy?”

Tony laughed. “Like Happy would ever be too busy to get Morgan from school.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh my fuc—”

“Watch it.” Tony lifted the hand he was holding the bottle with, pointing accusingly at him. “There are little ears in the house.”

Bucky sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need you playing matchmaker.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the smooth dark stone-top of the island. “And I definitely don’t need you roping in your nine-year-old to help.”

“I actually didn’t tell her to say anything to you.”

“I don’t need you talking to her about my love life at all.”

“I was talking to Pepper about it. But hey,” he took another sip, “little ears hear everything.”

He watched as Bucky chuckled in disbelief. Tony knew that it wasn’t his place to say or do anything, that out of everyone he was probably close to the bottom of the list when it came to people who had the right to give dating advice. Even with that being the case, though, Tony had been watching Bucky muddle through and get along without ever really learning to get close to anyone since everything happened with Steve. He was gone now, and while Bucky might’ve accepted that, he still hadn’t really made any moves to let new people in. A girlfriend wouldn’t solve all of those issues, as Pepper had swiftly told him. But it probably also wouldn’t hurt, as Tony had told her in response.

“Gonna make me go to parent-teacher night next?” Bucky asked, his tone light enough to let Tony know that it wasn’t going to turn into an argument for the time being.

“Don’t be ridiculous—you’re not ready for anything more than an open house.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

They both had plenty more comments to make about the topic but they let it drop as Morgan re-entered the room, Pepper in tow right behind her. Bucky and Tony exchanged a knowing look, one that confirmed that their conversation as on hold for now. Pepper caught it, but knew enough to know not to ask. Instead, she started a new conversation by thanking Bucky for picking Morgan up. He stayed long enough to make a little small talk before excusing himself, making sure to give Morgan another double fist-bump before heading for the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony said, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the counter.

Bucky knew exactly what Tony was doing, but didn’t say anything. The two of them slipped out the door, and Tony followed him down off the porch and all the way to his car.

When he realized that Bucky wasn’t going to say anything about any of it, he spoke up himself. “I could probably get her number for you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not? You don’t think she’s—”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know it,” Bucky cut him off. “Just leave it alone, Tony.”

“Mmm.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I can do that. Matter of national security at this point—you’re left unattended an awful lot.”

“And you think I need an elementary teacher to keep me company?”

“She knows how to wrangle kids and keep ‘em in line—sounds perfect for you.”

“Don’t say anything to her.”

Tony stared at Bucky for a long, hard minute. “Fine.”

Bucky didn’t believe it for a second but be also knew that continuing to argue about it wasn’t going to fix anything either. “Thanks.”

They exchanged a quick handshake and a brief goodbye, and soon enough, Bucky was on his way. The drive back to his apartment felt longer than usual, his thoughts wandering in the silence of the car since he didn’t make any move to turn the radio on. He thought about you, not that he would ever give Tony the satisfaction of knowing that, the way you smiled as you balanced your daughter on your hip. He thought about the apparent ease there was between you and Morgan. He thought about your dress and the way it fell just above your knees, the way the bright colors looked so nice and seemed so fitting.

Then he shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Tony was just in his head now, having him overthink about a woman he’d met for all of two minutes. The likelihood of him seeing you again wasn’t very high, not unless Tony started asking him to play chauffer for Morgan a lot more often, and somehow he didn’t really see that happening.

When he walked into his apartment, Bucky was immediately greeted by Alpine running up and rubbing against his legs. He chuckled, crouching down so that he could give him a light scratch behind his ears. Part of it was because Alpine was happy to have his owner home, Bucky was sure. But the other part was about the fact that it was definitely past Alpine’s usual dinnertime. Bucky understood all of that.

“I know,” his metal fingers can down Alpine’s spine, causing him to arch and purr, “I’m late.”

The next few minutes was just Bucky hanging up his jacket, giving Alpine his dinner, and then pulling something out of the freezer to cook for his own dinner as well. While he was waiting for the oven to finish pre-heating, the only sound that could be heard was Alpine crunching on his kibble as he stood above his bowl. Bucky watched him for a moment, a small smile on his face at the simplicity of the life he had now. Something that for a long time he didn’t think he would ever have.

It was a good life. It was quieter now than it had been for a long time—he was almost used to it. But maybe Tony was right, not that Bucky would ever tell him as much in so many words, but there might’ve been something to what Tony had been trying to tell him. A truth that was simpler to ignore because continuing on as he had been required far less work than trying to get to know someone, trying to let someone get to know him.

He pulled his phone out, tempted to search your name just to see what would pop up, what he would be able to learn about you. Then he stopped himself, shaking his head to try and dispel the thoughts. What good would it do? Why was he thinking like you were someone he knew already? Or like you were someone that already knew him? For all he knew, you’d forgotten him already. Hell, for all he knew you had no desire to get to know anyone, let alone someone like him. The beeping of his oven saved him from going down that spiral any further.

~*~

Sam was sitting on the stool to Bucky’s left. The music in the bar was loud, but not so much so that they had to shout to talk to each other. But once Bucky processed the sentence that Sam had just spoken to him, he instantly wished that the music was loud enough so that he couldn’t hear the other man at all.

Bucky pulled a long drink from the beer bottle in his hand, gloved fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of it. “Can’t believe he got you in on this shit too.”

Sam shrugged, unfazed by Bucky’s blatant annoyance. “I’m just sayin’, I think the guy might have a point.”

“Since when do you agree with Stark?”

Sam laughed. “I’ll agree with anybody if I think they’re right!” He paused, studied the look on Bucky’s face and then added on with a laugh, “Well, yeah, not you. But other people.”

Bucky tried to keep his annoyed expression but then chuckled. “Fuck you.”

Sam wasn’t going to let the conversation get derailed. “Alright, so you don’t like the girl he was telling you about, so why don’t you—”

“I didn’t say—”

“They got apps for that now. Oh, sorry,” Sam held up his hand in a pausing motion, “Apps are things that you can put on your pho—”

Bucky’s brows knit together. “I know what apps are.”

Sam allowed himself a minute to laugh at his own joke before saying, “So it’s not the girl. Then, what? Afraid you left all your game back in the forties?”

He shook his head, eyes suddenly glued down to his beer bottle. “Sure, yeah. Something like that.”

“Want my advice?”

“No.”

Sam gave it anyway. “Get over it.” He ignored the increasingly annoyed look on Bucky’s face. “Go buy a girl a drink. Ask her for her number. Use whatever corny line you used back in the nineteen hundreds the last time you had to pretend to have some game.”

Bucky didn’t want to laugh but he couldn’t stop himself. Sam might’ve been oversimplifying but Bucky was also vaguely aware of the fact that he was overcomplicating things for himself. “I’ll think about it. But,” he paused to point at Sam accusingly while he grabbed a sip of his beer, “I didn’t have to pretend to have game. I had it—have. I have it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Riiiight.”

The topic dropped, and they moved onto talking about other things. There were frequent pauses in the conversation, both of them turning to look at people coming into the bar. Neither of them ever thought they would fully break that habit, no matter how often they went out into the world as civilians.

The door let out a quiet chime, and Bucky’s head instinctively snapped in the direction to see who was coming in. His eyes widened and he stopped himself in the middle of the sentence that he was saying to Sam. There was no brain to mouth filter as he let out a quiet, “Shit.”

Sam’s face contorted in confusion as he turned to see what it was that had Bucky reacting that way. He looked over, his confusion immediately shifting into a smug grin when he saw you standing in the doorway. Bucky hadn’t even given Sam a description of what you looked like, but he could tell from Bucky’s reaction that there was no way that you could possibly be anyone else.

“Talk about good timing,” Sam joked.

Bucky was still staring at you, not that you’d noticed, as he spoke to Sam. “Shut up.”

“Now’s the time.”

He fought the urge to shove him off the stool. “I said shut up.”

You were only a couple steps inside the bar, you phone clutched tightly in one hand as you looked around the semi-tight space. The focused furrow of your brow said that you were looking for someone. The tight black jeans and lacy grey top you were wearing said that you were probably looking for your date. There were five million reasons Bucky felt his mouth go dry and none of them were doing him any good.

He saw the rise and fall of your shoulders as you let out a sigh. You typed on your phone for a moment before making your way over to the bar, carefully weaving your way through the clusters of other patrons. The closer you got, the more Bucky hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. You were so focused on getting to the bar and snagging a rare empty seat, that you didn’t even notice that the seat was next to him until after you’d ordered your drink. You wouldn’t have looked in his direction at all if you hadn’t heard someone laughing.

When you turned, the first thing you saw was Bucky, the familiar face and leather jacket. The next thing you noticed was the man on the other side of him, the source of said laughter. You tilted your head as your eyes made their way back to Bucky. You allowed yourself a laugh of your own. “Bucky?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “H-hey. Yeah, hi.”

“So funny seeing you here!” You paused, looking back and forth between him and the man next to him. “How are you?”

He nodded again, pulling the words up one by one. “Good. I’m good. You?”

“I’m, um,” you chuckled awkwardly, “I’m alright, I think? Supposed to be meeting someone here but,” you glanced around, “I don’t see them yet.”

The man on the other side of Bucky leaned across him and held his hand out. “I’m Sam, by the way.” He flashed you a charming grin. “Not the person you were looking for, but figured I’d introduce myself anyway since this guy wasn’t going to.”

You laughed as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The three of you chit-chatted, and you tried not to think too much about the way that Bucky was looking at you. You were putting too much thought into it, you were certain. Maybe you were just projecting, taking all the growing disappointment you were feeling about your supposed “date” still not being there and channeling it into the way that Bucky seemed to be so attentively listening to you.

Taking another sip from the straw in your drink, you checked the time on your phone one more time. Letting out a deep sigh, you looked over at Bucky, and Sam too. “I’m glad I ran into you two tonight, because from the looks of it the person that I came out to see is not showing up.” You shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jeans with a shake of your head.

“He’s an idiot,” Sam chimed in without hesitation.

You laughed and nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment.” You finished off your drink and you didn’t try to dissuade the bartender who was grabbing your glass and heading off to make you another. Looking back at the two of them, you said, “My friends were the ones who convinced me to get on those stupid dating apps anyway.” You shook your head. “Lotta good it did, huh?”

Bucky nodded, shooting a pointed look at Sam as he said, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Sam was laughing, but Bucky noticed the way that he was moving to throw some cash down on the bar. He gathered up his jacket as he got off the stool. “Well, not to be the bearer of more bad news, but I gotta take off.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulders as he walked by. “But you two crazy kids stay out and have some fun. It was very nice to meet you.” He flashed the two of you another grin. “Call if you need bail money. Not me, but, you know, call somebody.”

You laughed as you and Bucky each said goodbye to him. The two of you watched him as he practically skipped out of the bar and out onto the street. Bucky was caught between wishing he could chase Sam down and tackle him, and wishing he could skip right out the door alongside him. There was no buffer between the two of you anymore, and Bucky felt so strangely exposed.

“Sorry about your date,” Bucky finally offered up.

You smiled good-naturedly. “I’m not that heartbroken over it,” you said honestly as the bartender set your fresh drink down in front of you. “My expectations were pretty low, but, you know,” you took a sip, “not so low that I assumed he wasn’t gonna be here.”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s fair.”

“Honestly, I’m just more pissed off that I wasted one of my few free weekend evenings on some guy who didn’t even bother texting me to cancel.”

“Few?”

You smiled as you said, “My daughter. Every other week she’s with her dad. I miss her when she’s gone, so I try to stay busy. Usually with friends, but every now and then it’s some pipe-dream of a date.” You took another sip. “They usually do show up, though, at the risk of making myself sound horrible desperate,” you joked.

Bucky laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Your smile softened a touch, but it was still there. “Well, thank you for that at least.”

You had every intention of finishing off your drink, paying your tab, and heading right home. You weren’t typically one for staying out all hours in a bar or a club somewhere, even when you were out with your friends. And, as nice as it was that you had a chance run-in with Bucky when everything else seemed to be going wrong, you were still ready to turn it in and go home. Back to your pajamas and fuzzy blankets.

That’s not what happened, however, despite your best intentions. Somewhere along the way you switched from cocktails to soda just for the sake of being able to stay longer without getting too much of a buzz as you talked to Bucky. He wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, per se, and you hadn’t really expected him to be. The two of you managed to keep up a good pace of back and forth regardless of that. He did a little more listening than he did talking but it didn’t seem to bother him. It also made you realize that even though you had your friends, and your fellow teachers at school, there weren’t a whole lot of times when you went out to socialize with other adults. It also didn’t hurt that Bucky was so nice to look at, that he seemed to be just as interested in looking right back at you.

You’d both lost track of time as you sat there, and when you were both finally making your way towards the door of the bar, it was much later than either of you had bargained for. The two of you walked, and Bucky pulled the door open for you. The two of you were mid-conversation when you landed back out on the sidewalk. It was only then that you realized you probably weren’t going to be heading in the same direction.

Bucky watched as you motioned back over your shoulder, the opposite direction from the way he was heading. “I’m parked this way, but, it was really good seeing you. What are the chances, right?” You laughed lightly.

He smiled, nodded. “Yeah. It was, um,” he could feel the words that he wanted to say resting on the tip of his tongue and he was conflicted about whether or not he wanted to actually say them, “it was good to see you again.” He paused, hating every bit of hesitation that he was feeling. “Do you, um, I was wondering,” he was reaching for the pocket of his jacket for his phone as he fumbled his way through the question, “I mean on your next free weekend…”

You felt your face warm as he continued on. You knew where the line of questioning was going, and part of you knew that maybe you should put him out of his misery. But it was sweet, and you were enjoying that. Finally, you nodded. “That’d be nice.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he took his phone out. “Great. Okay, yeah. I’ll…I’ll call you. You know,” he managed a smile with a little more ease, “save you from all the apps.”

You laughed as you typed your name and number in. “You’re a lifesaver.”

In the back of his mind he knew that he should be making some sort of move now. Walk you to your car, give you a hug, something. But if asking for your number was as difficult as it had proven itself to be, he didn’t know what it was going to be like trying to manage anything else. So he took the win, and bid you goodnight.

Over the course of the next couple days, he was caught between wanting to tell both Tony and Sam separately that he’d gotten your number. He thought maybe it would help get them off his back. What he didn’t want, though, was for them to just get on his case about a whole new slew of things. He also didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they’d been right.

So, instead of reaching out to either of them, he texted you instead. It was casual at first, just brief messages here and there. Texting wasn’t his favorite way to stay in touch with people, but he at least recognized that it was what people did now.

He called you once, when he wanted to actually try and make plans to see you. That conversation wasn’t one that he wanted to have over text, and he told you as much. You also found that to be sweet as well. It wasn’t a long conversation, one taking place while you made dinner and your daughter was busy with her toys in the living room. But the two of you settled on a date, a time, and that he would come by your place to pick you up. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much while making pasta.

~*~

“Tony is never gonna let you hear the end of this when he finds out,” Sam said as he sat down at Bucky’s kitchen counter.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky grabbed drinks out of his fridge. “That’s why I haven’t said anything to him about it.”

“Nothing?!”

“No!” Bucky said, breaking down into laughter after a moment. “You gonna tell him?”

“What, you think that we’re texting about you all the time?” Sam shook his head. “Get over yourself.”

Bucky was about to come back with something snarky as per usual when his phone chimed on the counter. Sam looked, too nosey to stop himself. The grin that spread across his face when he saw your name on the screen. At the look on Sam’s face, Bucky’s instinct was to reach and flip the phone over, but he stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed his phone and messaged you back before setting it down.

“You wanna call me while you’re getting ready?” Sam joked. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit. Tell you how to do your hair.”

Bucky chuckled. “Fuck you.”

~*~

He didn’t call Sam before the date. He also hadn’t heard anything from Tony which led him to believe that Sam had been kind enough to keep his mouth shut. That was all well and good, but he wished that it did anything to soothe the nerves that he was feeling as he stood outside your door.

He felt like an awkward sixteen-year-old again as he stood on your front step. He rang the doorbell, flowers clutched tightly in his hand as he waited. He’d spoken to you earlier, and you had seemed excited about it all still. That gave him hope. But again, it still wasn’t enough to eradicate the lingering feelings of anxiety he had.

Another few seconds passed by and then you pulled open the door. You were smiling at him as you were trying to do the latch on your necklace. “Hey! Sorry, I still have to get my shoes on and stuff. Please,” you stepped back and nodded for him to step inside, “come in. I’ll be ready in like, two minutes.”

He smiled as he somewhat nervously followed your instructions, stepping just past the threshold of your house. “Take your time,” he said calmly as he shut the door behind him.

He looked around while you finished putting on your jewelry and went to grab your shoes. He wasn’t sure what he had been picturing your house looking like, but what he saw felt fitting. It was tidy considering how young your daughter was. There were some toys scattered about in patches, framed photos on the walls and drawings tacked onto the fridge by magnets. It was a home in a way that none of Bucky’s places since he came back had ever been.

“Okay,” you said as you reappeared, smoothing out your blouse, “I’m ready. Sor—” you stopped short when you finally noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The smile on your face was wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. “Those are beautiful.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment, like he’d forgotten that he had them. He held them out to you. “Just figured, you know…”

You smiled as you took them, flitting off to the kitchen so that you could put them in a vase with water. “Thank you.”

As the two of you drove, you could feel him slowly starting to relax. The two of you talked, and you could see the way that his grip on the steering wheel started to become less vice-like. There was something refreshing in the way that he opened the car door for you, and the door to the diner that the two of you had agreed on. He sat down across from you in the booth and you noticed the way that he still had his gloves on as he looked through the menu. You wanted to ask but you didn’t—if he wanted to say something about it you had a feeling that he would.

The conversation felt easy, the same way it had been that night at the bar. The only difference now was the feeling in the air. There was a different kind of tension now that hadn’t been there before. Sure, you’d been attracted to him even then, but that hadn’t been a date. Not like this.

Every now and then if one of you shifted in your seat and your feet or legs would brush. Neither of you said anything about it, but you could feel the upward curl of your own lips as it happened, the occasional pink flush of Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes it’d make him stumble in his sentence and you’d do him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

The two of you were splitting a piece of pie for dessert, something you insisted on because you knew the woman who baked them for the diner. It wasn’t as though Bucky put up any great fight about it. The closer the two of you got to finishing it, the more you engaged in low-stakes warfare, dueling with your forks over the pieces with the best crust-to-filling ratio.

“You can have the last bite,” you conceded with a laugh, leaning back in the booth.

“Oh, come on,” he joked, “it doesn’t feel good to win by forfeit.”

You laughed, warmth blossoming up your neck and across your face. “It’s not forfeit. Think of it as, I don’t know,” you drummed your fingers against the tabletop, “me being nice since it was your first time here.” You paused, studying the amused look on his face. “That better?”

He shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Little bit.”

The two of you walked back out to his car, and you found yourself walking much closer to his side than you had been on the way in. Your arm brushed against his as the two of you walked, and you found yourself about half a step away from leaning into his side.

He reached to open the car door for you, but before he could you leaned back against it so that you were facing him. You let one arm hang by your side, with the other you brought your palm so that it rested against his chest, pads of your fingertips pressing lightly against the leather.

Bucky almost pulled away out of reflex, but he didn’t. “Yes?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing, nothing.” You let your hand drop, the pads of your fingers dragging for a moment before your arm was back at your side once more. You moved just enough so that he could open the door again for you. “Thank you.”

Bucky walked you up to the door of your house, and he felt like his heart was beating clean up into the back of his throat. He didn’t remember dating being this nerve-wracking before. You seemed perfectly unfazed, though as you sauntered up and slipped your key into the lock.

“You wanna come in?” you offered as you opened the door. “Have a drink?”

It took more effort to swallow than it should have. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

You chuckled. “If you don’t want to—”

“I do,” he reassured, his voice earnest.

Your smiled grew. “Okay.” You stepped and waved him in with you. “C’mon.” You noticed the way that he still had his jacket and gloves on when you came back out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. You handed one over to him. “Nothing fancy, but it’s also usually just me drinking them, so…”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

There were a few beats of silence, each of you sipping out of your bottles before you said, “You don’t do this a lot, do you?”

His eyes widened for a moment, slight panic. “What?”

Your smile was warm as you gestured with your hand that held the bottle. “This. Dates. Not…not your thing, is it?”

He held the bottle between both his hands. “I’m…out of practice, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “That noticeable?”

You shook your head. “Not really. You just seemed, I don’t know, a little nervous. And I don’t know why a guy who looks like you would have any reason to be nervous on a date other than…”

“Other than I don’t go on them,” he finished with a soft laugh.

Your face heated up as you smiled. “Kinda.”

“How’d I do?” he asked, mostly joking.

You stepped in closer to him, noticing a different kind of tension in his body. “You’re doing great.”

He huffed out a laugh but it was much softer than he intended, betraying more of his real feelings than he bargained for. “This part?” He made a small gesture between you. “This part I’m really,” he forced out a puff of air through his teeth, “yeah.”

There was a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Want some help?”

He laughed but he didn’t say no, didn’t move away. He swallowed hard as you took the bottle from his hand and set them both on the coffee table in your living room. He was fighting hard to say something—ideally something smooth but at this point he would’ve settled for just about anything. Within seconds you were standing close to him again, bodies a breath away from being pressed flush against each other. Your hands rested on his chest for a moment, and you waited to see if he would change his mind and pull away—you were giving him the chance. But then you felt his hands tentatively land on your hips and you smiled, your body easing against his. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“Not so bad,” you asked softly, “right?”

He shook his head, finally forcing out a quiet, “No, it’s not.”

You smiled and leaned in, lightly pressing your lips to his. It was delicate, fleeting—you were pulling away as quickly as you’d leaned in. The sliver of space left between your lips and his was the silent ask for him to let you know if this was the end of the night or not. He could pull away from you, no harm no foul, or he could lean in and kiss you again and figure it out from there.

It felt like you were both holding your breath for a moment, faces just too close to be able to get a good look in each other’s eyes. You were about to pull back to really look at him when he leaned in and kissed you, more conviction than the quick gesture from before. You readily gave into him, hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his head to keep him pulled to you. As his lips moved against yours, one of his hands slid so that it was resting at the center of the small of your back.

The two of you stayed like that in the middle of your living room, all locking lips and wandering hands. You would’ve let the entire night fall away spent just like that and been more than fine with it. When the two of you finally came back up for air, when Bucky pulled away from you enough to really look into your eyes, you saw that more than anything he was surprised. Maybe it was at you, maybe it was at himself, but regardless it was there. Underneath that, though, you could see that there was something more. His hand that wasn’t on the small of your back came up to cup your chin, the leather of his gloves smooth to the touch against your skin. He tilted your chin just slightly and then your lips were back on his again.

Out of instinct you tugged down the zipper of his jacket. Your hands came up to his shoulders, getting ready to push his jacket down off of them. It was only then that he pulled away from you again, breathless as he desperately searched your face.

“What?” you asked gently, pausing your movements.

“Nothing, nothing. I,” he pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting…I just…”

“If it’s too much,” you said, taking a small step back, “we can—”

“No,” he stopped you short, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He took a breath. “Do you know? Who I am?”

You chuckled. “You’re friends with Iron Man and Falcon. I,” you shrugged, “I connected some dots along the way.”

He laughed, a sound of relief. “A lot of people don’t…you know…”

“A lot of people don’t have people from The Avengers dropping off school snacks once a week.” You paused and let both of you laugh. Allowing your tone to get a little more serious, you said, “I know, Bucky,” you moved once more to push his jacket down off his shoulders, “and it’s okay.”

He allowed you to do it, allowed his jacket to drop to the floor. Even with the long-sleeve shirt that he had on underneath, you could see the difference between his arms. You brought your hands to his, helping him pull the gloves off next. He was holding his breath—you could tell. When his gloves were off you ran your fingers along each of his palms, skin and metal, with equal delicate care.

When you looked into his eyes again you saw the way he was looking at you—bewildered, eager. You brought one hand back to his face again, urging him back towards you. It was a cue that he gladly took, kissing you with fervor. His hands were on your sides, and when he felt the way your other hand was running up his arm, he couldn’t stop himself, from letting his hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

It’d been so long, he realized as his hands roamed your sides and back, since he’d last felt someone like this. When your fingers slid underneath the collar of his shirt, splaying across what they could reach where the nape of his neck turned stretched into his shoulders, he also realized that it’d been a long time since he’d let someone feel him like this too.

All the nerves, the tension of the night, it all started to melt away as he felt you reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt to pull off over his head. He didn’t want to stop you, and he knew that that meant something. Maybe they’d all been right—maybe there was something to letting someone else in again. As he felt the warmth of your palms against his skin, he could only hope that the rest of it felt this good too.

[kurokawaia]

❛ UM, WHAT? ❜

Yandere! Illumi Zoldyck X Fem!Reader

| YANDERE CONTENT |

WC; 1.5k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: in the pre timeskip, i imagine it to be younger illumi there (so when he's around 18-19 and has the short hair), reader is aslo 17-18 before the timeskip. after the timeskip illumi is 26 and you are 25, stalking!!! death

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Could you pls write yandere illumi who has been stalking reader for years now, he finally decides to make his move, bumps into you, casually invites you for a date. But as you start talking to him, he's so in love and obsessed he lets creepy things slip during casual conversation eg. Reader: yeah I go to dance classes, though recently I haven't been enjoying them as much because our teacher keeps complaing about his life problems! Can you believe it! And Illumi replies "Yes, that idiot should've left his cheating wife months ago haha" and Reader's like, how did you know that *sweats* Anyway just creepy illumi pls:3 - ANON

m.list | hxh m.list

You were just a high school student when you first noticed him, but only just briefly.

It was one of those ordinary days, but if only you had paid more attention to how this man looked, maybe your life would have turned out different. The man you noticed had quite noticeable features: tall, solemn, a young man who watched you across the street with a curious expression you quickly ignored.

He was dressed in a simple jacket and slack pants, though, his eyes were pericing into your back. You were scared, more or less, the way he was observing you.

With just a headshake, you pretty much forgot the man in your mind, manipulating yourself that he isn't looking at me.

Illumi took an interest in you, for what reason, he did not know. You were just some average girl, not an assassin, and more than likely didn't even know how to use Nen. But you caught his eye.

Your simple life and usual happenings were so different to his own so much that his curiosity was piqued. You looked so innocent that he wanted to taint you to something darker. 

It wasn't very long before curiosity did turn darker and into something more obsessive. 

He started following you more often, always remaining out of your field of sight, and never once approaching you directly. He learned your schedule, your favorite spots, and your friends. He watched over one like a ghost through every mundane task, every joyful moment, and every sorrowful sigh.

Years passed, and that addiction only grew bigger and bigger. The feel of watching you, the satisfaction of knowing everything that happened in your life, made him feel good.

You were his secret obsession, his hidden treasure that no one else could touch.

Then, it happened. You walked down that street, busy with your thoughts, when he decided the time was right. Casually, as if he had suddenly bumped into you, he came towards you. His heart racing from the thrill not of the encounter but of just revealing himself a little.

"Pardon me," he said, his tone silky. You looked up with a jerk since his sudden appearance had startled you. There was something unsettling in the way that he stared at you, yet it was cloaked by a polite smile. "I couldn't help but notice you. We've crossed paths before, haven't we?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you made yourself smile. "I don't think so," you said, trying to keep the subject light.

You had this feeling that you had met this man before but couldn't place with who he was and where you had seen him.

"Perhaps not," he replied lightly, shrugging. "I guess I was mistaken. My name is Illumi. I'd like to get to know you better. Would you be interested in going out sometime?"

"Um, sure," you said hesitantly, unable to shake off the feeling that something was deeply wrong but unable to refuse the polite request. "When would you like to. go out?"

"Would now be okay?" he asks with a tilt of his head, his height was towering over you, you noticed.

"Um, sure," you replied, unable to say no.

You both set off toward a small café in town. You arrived a few minutes early, trying to rid yourself of that strange feeling from earlier. Illumi showed up a little afterwards, his presence still had that air of dread hanging about him which made you uncomfortable, but his smile was warm and inviting.

As you guys settled into your corner booth, you tried to focus on the pleasant atmosphere. Illumi made small talk, his voice smooth and nice. You found yourself slowly opening up, talking about your daily life.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" Illumi asked, never his eyes leaving your face.

Not that he knew of, anyway.

"Well, I've been going to dance classes," you said.

He already knew that.

"Though lately, I haven't really been enjoying them as much. Our teacher just keeps bitching about all his life problems. Can you believe it?"

Illumi's eyes gleamed, "Yes, that idiot really ought to have left his cheating wife months ago. It's pathetic how he drags his personal drama into his classes. Haha."

You felt your heart skip a beat and you froze in shock from his response. "How-how did you know about that?" you stuttered. "I've never told anyone."

Illumi's smile picked up. "Oh, I have my ways," he said smoothly. "I pay attention to the details, you know. It's just a shame he's so miserable. I suppose that's why he hasn't been able to focus on teaching properly."

You tried to compose yourself, forcing a nervous laugh. "Well, I guess you're right. It's just frustrating sometimes."

Illumi nodded, still with that unnerving stare. "I understand. Must be hard on you, dealing with his problems besides your own. I'm sure you are doing your best."

You tried to smile, though the unease in your chest was growing. "Thanks. I guess it just feels like everything's piling up lately."

Illumi's eyes flashed, nay flared, with an eerie serious intent. "Is there anything else bothering you? Perhaps something outside of dance class?"

You felt a little cornered by the intensity of his gaze and hesitated before continuing, "Well, there's this guy at work who's been bothering me. He keeps making these inappropriate comments, trying to corner me whenever I'm alone. It's really unsettling."

Illumi's face clouded for a moment, his frown deepening as he registered your words. "I see," he said slowly. "I didn't realize this. nuisance," he grumbled to himself, cursing himself on how he could have missed something like that in your daily life.

He thought you didn't hear what he said, but you did. A chill ran down your spine at the way he said it.

You hastily tried to change the subject with the urge to get away from the intensity in his gaze. "But enough about that. I'm glad we could meet today. It has been nice talking to you."

Illumi's smile picked up once more, but didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes, it has been. I enjoyed our time together."

You got to your feet, collecting your things and moving to leave. Illumi followed suit, escorting you to the door of the café. Outside, both of you stepped into the cool evening air, you noticed him freeze for a moment, his eyes set on something far off.

Almost as if he was gauging what move to take next.

"Well, it's time to say goodbye for now, I suppose," you said, forcing cheerfulness into your voice.

Illumi smiled reassuringly but there was something beneath that made you scared. "Indeed. I look forward to the next time we meet."

And so you went off in opposite directions, you homeward. You had walked a way when you couldn't rid the feeling that Illumi had looked at you just one beat longer than he needed to.

Later that night, Illumi sat with reflections upon his mind, bothered by the new information about the man that's been bothering you. How could he have missed this-one nuisance? 

He prides himself on how well he watches over you and has always been fully aware of your every move.

This guy slipped under his watchful eye, and that irked him.

Illumi's face darkened as he made his way to the place where you worked. He found the man who had been harassing you. Getting ready to leave for the night, the man didn't notice Illumi approach him.

The man was turning around, startled by the sudden appearance of the tall stranger. Before he could even utter another word, Illumi's hand had closed tightly around his throat. His eyes widened into a fearful expression as Illumi's voice, in low tone.

"You have caused my precious one unnecessary distress," Illumi said softly, his tone chilling. "For which you shall pay the price."

Illumi made sure the man would never utter another word ever again, his movements calculated and cold. 

The threat to you was gone, and your world would never be disrupted by anyone else other than him. 

No one was ever to come between him and the object of his obsession.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[luvismenu]

STARBOY — JJK ,, 05 universe ✎ ,, index

warnings: just them bantering and idk, fluff? (jungkook trying to be romantic ekjwkwja)

note: yay finally!! i will update more often now dw guys (not an empty promise) only 5 more chaps!

“___! can i take a break now? i think everything’s fine.”

you glance around the room, groups of students chatter excitedly, some jittery with nerves as they await the start of the contest, while others treat the event like a casual hangout, their laughter echoing too loudly in the room.

turning back to elena, you let out a sigh. “just a few more minutes, vice. can you help me get everyone to settle down? you’ll get your break once the contest ends and we’re waiting for the results, yeah?”

she looks momentarily disappointed, her shoulders slumping slightly, but she nods.

you offer her a small, reassuring smile. “thank you for sticking with me through all of this. it’ll be over soon, i promise.”

her expression softens at your words, and she gives you a faint smile before heading off to manage the crowd. you take a moment to breathe, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

that’s when you notice kim namjoon weaving his way through the throng of students, his tall frame making him hard to miss.

“looks like you’ve got everything under control,” he says as he approaches

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i wouldn’t say that. it’s more like controlled chaos.”

namjoon smiles. “that’s still impressive. pulling off an event like this isn’t easy, but you seem to have it handled.”

“well, i have all of you to thank for a lot of it,” you admit, glancing towards the vice as she speaks to a group of students. “and honestly, i’m just praying everything goes smoothly once the contest starts.”

“it will,” namjoon assures you, his voice steady. “you’ve planned everything down to the last detail. plus, the turnout’s great. everyone’s excited.”

“that’s what worries me,” you joke, half serious. “the more people, the more chances for something to go wrong.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “classic class president mindset. always prepared for the worst.”

“someone has to be,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “what about you? are you just here to observe, or are you part of the contest?”

“observe,” he says with a shrug. “i wanted to see how this plays out. it’s not every day the english majors get this much attention.”

“true,” you agree, scanning the room briefly before turning back to him. “but i thought someone like you would’ve joined. you’re always talking about writing.”

“i prefer writing stories for myself,” he admits, his expression thoughtful. “contests like these are great, but they’re not really my thing. i like watching people shine in their own way.”

his words are sincere, and for a moment, you find yourself appreciating his perspective. “that’s... nice. i hope the participants feel the same way and don’t faint from all the nerves.”

“they’ll do fine,” he says with confidence, glancing at the other students. “but you should probably take your own advice and relax a bit. you’re doing great.”

you scoff lightly but nod. “i’ll relax when this is all over.”

“fair enough,” namjoon replies with a knowing smile. “good luck, ___. not that you need it.”

“thanks,” you say, watching as he turns to blend back into the crowd.

you wonder where jungkook is.

not that you care, of course.

he was one of the people who helped the student council a lot with the event, so it’s only polite to thank him. nothing more, nothing less.

pulling out your phone, you scroll through the messages he sent earlier.

starboy: should i wear a suit?

you: it’s a contest, not the met gala.

starboy: says the girl who’s defo trying to outshine me

you: i don’t need to try :)

starboy: wow u're so humble 🙄

you: confident, maybe

starboy: r u looking forward to seeing me

you: only because you told me you're participating. nothing more.

starboy: sure. keep telling yourself that, stargirl. i know you wanna see me so bad ;)

you: wtv helps you sleep at night, starboy.

you shake your head, fighting back a small grin that threatens to creep onto your lips. he always had this way of getting under your skin, whether you wanted him to or not.

deciding to refocus, you make your way over to the vice. but to your surprise, she isn’t standing alone.

elena is talking to someone, her hands gesturing wildly, a small laugh escaping her lips. it takes you a second to realize who’s standing there with her, but the sight makes you stop in your tracks.

jungkook.

of course, he’d show up now, looking every bit like he belonged in a spotlight. he’s dressed in a crisp black suit that, while simple, fits him too perfectly to be considered anything but deliberate.

he catches your gaze almost immediately, a smug grin curling at the corner of his lips as if he knew you’d been wondering where he was.

“prez,” he says smoothly, breaking away from elena to walk towards you.

“oh no, they’re gonna argue again,” one of elena’s friends whispers, leaning closer to her.

“let’s hope not,” elena mutters nervously, her eyes fixed on you and jungkook.

“you look... stressed.” jungkook points out.

“and you look overdressed,” you shoot back, crossing your arms as you try not to let his presence throw you off.

“i call it setting the bar high,” he quips, standing in front of you now. “wouldn’t want to disappoint, you know.” he shoots a glance to a group of girls who are already eyeing him like he's the main event.

you roll your eyes, “and i thought you were here for the writing contest, not competing for bestdressed.”

“why can’t it be both?” he shrugs, the grin never leaving his face.

you shake your head. “you’re late, starboy.”

“perfection takes time,” he replies with a casual shrug.

“is perfection in the room with us?” you raise a brow, and he pretends to look offended for a moment.

“my goodness, prez,” he says dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded.

you chuckle despite yourself, and he smiles.

“thanks for helping out, jungkook,” you say, your tone softening just a little. he looks genuinely surprised for a second before his face turns smug.

“oh?” his brows lift playfully. “am i high or did you just thank me?”

“don’t make me take it back,” you warn.

he lets out a small laugh, the sound warm. “don’t mention it. after all, i am the best,” he says, leaning back as if basking in imaginary applause.

your smile immediately fades. “you’re so full of yourself.”

as you follow jungkook to the registration desk, you notice how the girls in the corner giggle louder when he walks by. he tilts his head slightly in their direction, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you’re enjoying this too much,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“what can i say? people appreciate greatness.” he shrugs, feigning modesty.

“greatness? please. you’re just tall and have nice hair. it’s not that deep.”

“you think my hair is nice?” his smirk widens, and you immediately regret your choice of words.

“focus, starboy,” you snap, pointing to the line of participants. “you’re here to submit your entry, not to boost your already inflated ego.”

“don't worry about me stargirl, i can multitask.” he flashes a grin and steps forward to sign in.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner that you were participating?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“surprise, surprise,” he says in a sing-song tone, not even glancing back.

you hum thoughtfully, narrowing your eyes at his back. “i don’t know if i’m more annoyed that you didn’t tell me or impressed that you kept a secret for once.”

“i’m full of surprises, prez,” he replies, finally turning around. “are you perhaps curious about what i wrote?"

“curious isn’t the word i’d use,” you deadpan.

as the two of you walk away from the desk, you glance at his entry form, trying to peek without being obvious. but he notices immediately.

“curious isn't the word i'd use.” he mocks you, holding the form just out of your reach.

“i was just checking if you spelled your name right.” you roll your eyes yet again.

“i’ll have you know, it’s going to win.” he says.

“oh, it’s definitely going to win something,” you say with a smirk. “most mediocre attempt, maybe.”

“keep talking,” he laughs, “but when my name is announced as the winner, i want you in the front row, clapping louder than anyone.”

“i am not a seal, you know,”

the banter continues as you both head towards the seating area, your playful digs turning heads as others watch the dynamic between the class president and the self proclaimed starboy.

the chatter in the room quiets down as the head of the event steps forward, holding a small glass bowl filled with folded slips of paper. “to kick off the contest,” she announces, her voice echoing slightly in the room, “we’ll randomly select one of our participants to read their submission aloud.”

a murmur spreads through the crowd. your eyes flick to jungkook, who leans back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be unbothered. but the way his posture stiffens as the name is drawn doesn’t escape you.

“jeon jungkook.”

you swear you see his confidence falter for just a split second, his eyes widening ever so slightly before he quickly recovers

“well, well,” you say, unable to resist a jab. “didn’t think the universe would humble you this quickly.”

“humble me?” he scoffs, standing up and dusting off his pants as if preparing for a performance. “please. this is nothing.”

the crowd shifts, a few participants nudging him towards the makeshift stage at the front. he lets out a dramatic sigh, walking forward with a nonchalance that feels just a little too forced.

“don’t trip,” you call out, earning a few chuckles from the students around you.

jungkook turns just enough to throw a glance your way, his eyes glinting. “enjoy the show, prez.”

as he steps up to the mic, the room falls into an expectant hush, the silence settling over everyone. jungkook takes his entry, he scans the words, his expression unreadable, before finally beginning to read.

“the story,” he starts, his voice steady yet soft, the kind that makes everyone lean in just a little closer. “it’s about… how one person can change everything, even if they don’t know it.”

he takes a pause, eyes scanning the room briefly before settling somewhere in the distance, as though he’s speaking to a ghost only he can see.

“she’s not like the sun, burning too bright for anyone to hold,” he begins, his voice growing quieter, more deliberate. “she’s more like the moon.. steady, always there even when you can’t see her. the kind of light that keeps you grounded on the darkest nights.”

you hear a few soft sighs from the crowd, and you can’t tell if they’re swooning or genuinely moved. you shift in your seat.

“she’s… not perfect,” he continues, a small, fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “but that’s what makes her real. she’s messy, stubborn, maybe even a little mean—” there’s a flicker of amusement in his tone, “—but somehow, she’s still the most beautiful thing i’ve ever known.”

your throat tightens, and you don’t know why. it’s just words, you tell yourself. just another story for the contest. but the way he says them makes your stomach twist.

“she doesn’t know,” jungkook says, quieter now, almost like a confession. “she doesn’t know how much space she takes up in my universe. how, even when everything else feels like it’s falling apart, she stays constant. the one thing i never want to lose.”

the silence in the room is deafening. you can feel your heart thudding against your ribs.

his voice is steady, but there’s an undercurrent of vulnerability that catches you off guard. the story he weaves is vivid and poetic, describing a brilliant, infuriating force of nature who constantly challenges and inspires him.

“she’s impossible to ignore,” he says, his eyes scanning the room but never quite meeting yours. “like a star in the night sky, guiding but distant, always just out of reach.”

his eyes finally meet yours.

“she's my universe.”

your heart stutters.

is this about—

the applause is immediate, loud and thunderous. jungkook gives a small bow, his usual smirk creeping back into place as he steps down from the stage. but for a split second, as he glances your way, you think you catch something else in his expression; something raw, something different.

“woah,” elena whispers beside you, nudging your arm. “that was… something.”

“yeah,” you murmur, but your voice sounds far away, your mind still caught on his words. “definitely something..”

note: took me a while becuz I AM NOT POETIC— 😓 but anyway lol do u guys think he could win? 🫢

📜 series taglist: @rrosiitas

📜 permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

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[joonieskinks]

somewhere in italy, 2002

simon 'ghost' riley x reader | fluff, swearing, some small hints of past smut but mostly just a happy reunion inspired by cmbyn lol | 800-ish

You could feel his eyes on you before you set yours on his. 

At first you believed he approached you due to the minimal seating available on the patio, hoping to steal a chair to rejoin his rather loud group of friends. But instead the masked man asked for a seat beside you. That's when you glanced up from your novel, taking the cigarette out of your mouth. 

“This seat taken, love?” He asked, his voice husky but softer than you imagined it would be at first glance of the man. 

“No, you’re welcome to it.” You boldly insist, eyes lingering on him briefly before disappearing back to the pages in front of you. 

He pulled the seat out from the table, angling the chair towards you, and there he sat. Searching for words, perhaps just enjoying your presence. You couldn’t quite decide.

After a few moments, you looked back up at him as you heard the rambunctious murmurs from his little group. “Go on, LT, go!”

You smiled, gesturing a hand over to the boys.

“You with them?” The man nodded, eyes never leaving your face, your figure, you.

“Yeah, but they mean well.” You could see a small smile under the mask form.

“This a dare?” You poke, but his smile dropped an instead sincerity followed.

“No, just haven’t seen you in a few years, thought I’d say hello.” His voice fell quiet at the end of his sentence, his gaze finally leaving you to twiddle with his hands.

Then it hit you-

From all those years ago. Italy.

A simple vacation where you were both young and needed some time to find yourself. Met on a night out, he charmed you within a minute and you were wrapped around his finger, his body. From then on, you two were inseparable, days out in the sun and nights under the sheets. A summer never passed by so fast. 

“Simon?” The name not having left your mouth since he had to depart, head home, pack and begin his life in the military. That was his decision, his calling, to go. Yet, here he is before you once more. 

“Hi, lovie. It’s nice to see you again.” His eyes met yours once more. You quickly close your book and put out your cigarette, pushing up from your chair and into his arms. He’s taken aback, but doesn’t hesitate to hold you tightly. Simon’s face lands in the crook of your neck and you can hear him slowly inhale and exhale in relief.

This is what home feels like, he thinks.

“My God, I didn’t even recognize you with that on! Simon, I’ve missed you!” You pull back, your hands cradling his face and searching his eyes. “How are you? Where have you been? What’re you doing here?” He only chuckled as he could see your mind race. 

“Hoping to run into you, of course.” His hands slide up and down your back, soothingly. It was like no time had passed at all. His first love, his only love, his last love. He decided here and now, he wants this till he dies.

“You never left.” Simon notes.

“And you came back.” You smile, pressing your forehead to his and your eyes fluttered shut. You haven’t felt this comfort in years, oh how you ached for this, for him.

His grip on you loosened and you feel his hand come towards his face. He pushes up the mask, just enough for his mouth to show. You look down at the sight, those lips, the ones you know and love, rightfully yours. Although the years have not been kind to them, not with the visible scars on and surrounding them. Your mind rushes to ask a thousand questions, yet you hold back. Another time.

I wouldn’t have let that happen under my watch, you think.

“Y/N…” He whispers and you feel your knees start to give out. Look how you’re still so needy for him after all this time. 

Your thumbs push the mask up to his nose and he presses his lips to yours. Running your hands down his shoulders, across his jaw, touching him just how you’ve wanted to for years. 

His hands find perch at your waist, pulling you in close to him and deepening the kiss. 

You only break as his boys behind him start whistling, hollering, shouting his name in both astonishment and utter confusion. 

"How the hell did he get her that fast...?"

You look back at them as you laugh, Simon only pulls you in closer. 

“This ones’ mine, lads. Piss off.” Your attention turns back to your lover, eyeing the lipstick that resonates lightly on his lips. 

“All yours.” You whisper into his ear, bringing him close to you once more. Simon holds your face sweetly in his hands, so delicately, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“After all this time?”

“Always."

//