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ijustmissyouraccenths · 1 day ago

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It’s You

Where Y/N’s chaotic energy clashes with her grumpy, tattooed neighbor, her mission to get on his good side turns into stolen glances, quiet moments, and a connection she never expected.

Au Harry

Word count: 13,395

Content warning: Cursing, smut, alcohol.

The warm glow of string lights illuminated Y/N’s cozy Los Angeles apartment as the sound of laughter filled the air. The small space was a mix of bohemian chic and personal touches—a gallery wall of polaroids, a cluttered coffee table covered with open bags of snacks, and a few empty wine bottles standing like trophies from their earlier indulgence.

Y/N flopped back onto the couch, a glass of red wine in hand, her cheeks flushed from both the alcohol and nonstop giggling. Her two best friends, Harper and Lila, sat cross-legged on the floor, snacking on popcorn and chips, fully embracing the childlike joy of their adult sleepover.

“This feels so right,” Y/N said, her voice slightly tipsy. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

“Because we’re responsible adults now, remember?” Harper teased, adjusting her oversized hoodie. “Nine-to-five, bills, and pretending we know what we’re doing.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lila quipped, popping a gummy bear into her mouth. “I’m thriving in my chaos era.”

Y/N snorted, and Harper rolled her eyes with an affectionate grin. Lila was the wild card of the group, always coming up with unpredictable ideas. And she didn’t disappoint tonight.

“You know what we should do?” Lila suddenly said, sitting up straighter. “Karaoke.”

“Yes!” Harper exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Oh my God, yes. Do you still have that mic we bought for New Year’s Eve?”

Y/N groaned dramatically, but her smile betrayed her fake reluctance. “You mean the mic that nearly got us evicted? Of course, I still have it.”

Lila grinned wickedly. “Perfect. Let’s wake up the entire building with our stunning renditions of 2000s throwbacks.”

Without waiting for further approval, Lila dashed to the hall closet and pulled out the karaoke mic, triumphantly waving it in the air. Harper grabbed her phone, already scrolling through a playlist.

“You’re starting,” Harper declared, pointing the mic at Y/N.

“What? No!” Y/N laughed, holding her hands up defensively. “I’m not ready!”

“Too bad,” Lila said, shoving the mic into Y/N’s hands. “You can’t escape destiny. Pick your song.”

Y/N sighed theatrically before smirking. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when your ears bleed.”

As Y/N queued up Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson, the room erupted in cheers. The first few notes played, and soon enough, Y/N was belting out the lyrics with unrestrained enthusiasm, her friends joining in for the chorus. It didn’t matter that they were slightly off-key; in that moment, they were superstars in their own private concert.

Wine glasses were forgotten, snacks spilled, and every lyric was sung at full volume. It was the kind of night they’d remember for years—a reminder that no matter how grown-up they pretended to be, some things never lost their magic.

The girls were in full swing, harmonizing (poorly) to “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys. Lila stood on the couch holding the mic as if she were performing at Madison Square Garden, while Harper played air guitar with a half-empty wine bottle. Y/N was doubled over in laughter, her cheeks aching from smiling so much.

Just as they hit the iconic, “Tell me why—” part, a loud knock echoed through the apartment, cutting through their drunken fun like a record scratch. The girls froze, their voices trailing off mid-note. Y/N straightened up, exchanging wide-eyed looks with Harper and Lila.

“Uh… did someone order pizza?” Lila whispered, her voice unsure.

“Nope,” Y/N said, setting her wine glass on the coffee table. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

With a mix of nerves and annoyance, Y/N padded to the door. She peered through the peephole and groaned. It was her new neighbor, Harry. She’d only exchanged a polite “hello” with him in passing, but he’d already struck her as the brooding, grumpy type.

Bracing herself, she opened the door.

There he stood: tall, disheveled hair pushed back in a lazy attempt at taming it, wearing a faded gray hoodie and black joggers. His sharp green eyes narrowed as he took in her flushed face and the muffled chaos behind her.

“Good evening,” he started, his British accent dripping with sarcasm. “I just wanted to say how much I’ve been enjoying your concert tonight. It’s like living next door to a live music venue. Only… worse.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by his dry humor. “Oh. Uh, sorry about that. We didn’t realize how loud we were being.”

Harry crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I figured. Thought I’d come over before I lost the ability to hear entirely.”

From behind her, Lila’s voice chimed in drunkenly. “Is it a noise complaint? Tell him to sing with us!”

Y/N turned and shot Lila a glare. Harper muffled a laugh.

Y/N sighed and looked back at Harry. “We’ll keep it down. Promise.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching into the faintest smirk, though his tone remained gruff. “Appreciated. Just… try not to turn it into a full-on festival.”

With that, he turned to leave, but Y/N couldn’t help herself. “You know, you could’ve just sent a passive-aggressive text or something.”

Harry glanced back over his shoulder, one brow arched. “I thought this had more impact.”

And then he was gone.

Y/N closed the door, leaning her forehead against it for a moment. When she turned around, Lila and Harper were staring at her like she’d just walked off the set of a rom-com.

“Um, who was that?” Lila asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Harry. My new neighbor,” Y/N replied, walking back to the couch.

“And Mr. Grumpy Pants is cute,” Harper added, grinning.

Y/N rolled her eyes, picking up her wine glass. “Yeah, yeah. He’s cute and cranky. Now can we please move on before you two start planning a love story?”

But the mischievous glint in her friends’ eyes told her they weren’t letting this go anytime soon.

The karaoke mic had been put away, and the girls now lounged in the cozy living room, passing a bottle of wine between them. The earlier buzz of excitement had mellowed, but the energy was still warm and lively. Lila was sprawled on the couch with her legs dangling over Harper’s lap, while Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, sipping from her glass.

“I mean, let’s just talk about him for a second,” Lila began, her voice dramatic. “The mopey neighbor with the accent? And did you see those tattoos? They were peeking out, Y/N. He’s giving mysterious bad boy energy.”

Y/N groaned, her cheeks warming instantly. “Oh my God, Lila. He was literally just here to tell us to shut up.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not hot,” Harper chimed in, grinning. “He has that whole ‘I’m grumpy but secretly charming’ vibe. Like, did you see the way he smirked when he made that little joke?”

Y/N tried to hide her flustered reaction by taking another sip of wine, but she couldn’t stop the blush creeping up her neck. She’d noticed too—his smirk, his sharp jawline, the tattoos curling up his forearm, just barely visible under his hoodie sleeves. She’d noticed everything.

“I mean, he’s okay, I guess,” Y/N mumbled, keeping her tone nonchalant.

“Okay?” Lila shot up, nearly spilling her wine. “You’re lying. You’re the worst liar ever.”

“Shut up,” Y/N said, laughing as she buried her face in her hands. “Fine, he’s cute. So what? He’s also my neighbor, and he’s probably annoyed with me forever now.”

“He’s not annoyed,” Harper said, nudging her with her foot. “If he were, he wouldn’t have made the effort to come over himself. He would’ve sent an email to management or something. He wanted an excuse to see you.”

“Right,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes. “Because nothing’s more attractive than a drunk girl singing Backstreet Boys at full volume.”

“Exactly!” Lila exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. “You’re memorable. He’ll never forget you now.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing despite herself. “You two are ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Harper said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “But I bet he thinks you’re cute too.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she quickly changed the subject. But as the night went on, she couldn’t shake the image of Harry standing in her doorway, his messy hair, his smirk, and those tattoos. Maybe her friends weren’t entirely wrong.

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of Y/N’s apartment, illuminating the chaos left behind from the night before. Wine glasses, half-eaten snacks, and the abandoned karaoke mic were scattered around the living room. The girls were tangled up in blankets, sprawled across the couch and the floor like a scene from a sitcom.

Y/N was the first to stir, groaning as she rubbed her eyes and sat up. Harper was curled up on the couch with a throw pillow over her head, while Lila lay on the floor in a makeshift nest of cushions, one arm dramatically draped over her face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Y/N teased, nudging Lila with her foot.

Lila groaned. “Why are you awake? It’s illegal to be this alive right now.”

Harper peeked out from under her pillow, her voice muffled. “What time is it? Do we even have the energy to exist today?”

“Barely,” Y/N replied, standing and stretching. “But I’m starving, so I’m making breakfast. Come help me.”

Harper and Lila grumbled but eventually dragged themselves up and into the kitchen, where Y/N was already cracking eggs into a bowl. Together, they whipped up a chaotic but delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and a mountain of coffee.

The girls sat around the small dining table, eating in comfortable silence at first. Then Lila broke the quiet with a wicked grin.

“So… Harry.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, covering her face. “Not again.”

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Lila said, smirking. “Next time we do this, we should make it even louder. Really make him come back over.”

Harper snorted into her coffee. “Yes! Like, full-blown karaoke night but with amps and disco lights.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. “You two are the worst.”

“But you love us,” Harper said, nudging her with an elbow.

After breakfast, the girls cleaned up and packed their things before heading out. Harper hugged Y/N tightly. “We definitely need to do this again.”

Lila nodded enthusiastically. “Louder next time. You know, for research purposes.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing as she walked them to the door. “You’re both insane, but I love you. Drive safe.”

Once they were gone, Y/N flopped onto the couch and opened their group chat. Almost immediately, messages started flooding in.

Lila: Next sleepover, let’s bring a fog machine. If Harry shows up, we’ll just act like it’s a concert.

Harper: Or we could rent a spotlight. Make it an event

Y/N: You guys are unbelievable. No more wine for you next time.

Lila: Admit it, you want him to show up again.

Y/N: …maybe.

Harper: KNEW IT.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at her phone, her cheeks warming yet again. As ridiculous as her friends were, they weren’t entirely wrong.

The day passed in a blur of cleaning and tidying as Y/N tried to get her apartment back to its usual organized state. By the time the sun started to dip low in the sky, the chaos from the night before had been erased, leaving her apartment looking like a picture of calm domesticity. Feeling accomplished, Y/N decided to check her mailbox before settling in for a quiet evening.

She padded down to the mailroom in her building, dressed in a casual but presentable outfit—high-waisted jeans and a simple white top. As she rifled through the usual junk mail and a couple of bills, the sound of someone entering the room caught her attention.

Glancing to the side, she saw Harry walking in, his hoodie replaced by a fitted black t-shirt and dark jeans. His tattoos were on full display now—intricate designs that wound up his forearm and disappeared under the sleeve of his shirt. He barely glanced at her as he moved to his mailbox, unlocking it with practiced ease.

Y/N swallowed her nerves and decided to seize the moment. It was better to make a proper introduction now than to let the awkwardness from last night linger. Turning slightly toward him, she cleared her throat.

“Hey, neighbor,” she began, keeping her tone light. “Figured I should introduce myself officially now that I’m not, you know, half-drunk and screaming karaoke at midnight. I’m Y/N.”

Harry turned his head, his green eyes locking onto hers. His expression was neutral, almost unreadable, as he gave her a quick once-over. “Harry,” he said simply, his voice low and clipped.

Y/N bit back a grin, determined not to let his gruff demeanor throw her off. “Nice to meet you, Harry. Sorry again about last night. I promise we don’t usually host impromptu concerts. Unless, of course, you’re a fan of boy band throwbacks.”

Harry let out a soft exhale that could’ve been a laugh—or just a sigh. “I’ll survive.”

Encouraged by the hint of amusement, Y/N decided to keep the conversation going. “You know, if you’re ever feeling nostalgic, you’re welcome to join us. We could use a fourth member for our extremely off-key girl group.”

Harry’s lips twitched slightly, but his expression remained mostly stoic. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Y/N tilted her head, giving him a mock-serious look. “You’re really hard to read, you know that? Most people at least chuckle at my jokes.”

Harry glanced at her, his gaze steady and calm. “Maybe I’m just not most people.”

For a moment, Y/N didn’t know how to respond. There was something almost challenging in his tone, but it wasn’t harsh. If anything, it piqued her curiosity even more.

“Well, Harry,” she said finally, flashing him a bright smile. “Challenge accepted. I’ll make you laugh one of these days.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead closing his mailbox and tucking the letters under his arm. As he moved to leave, he paused, looking over his shoulder.

“We’ll see about that.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing there with her stack of mail and a strange mix of frustration and intrigue swirling in her chest. One thing was for sure—Harry might be grumpy, but he was far from boring.

As soon as Y/N got back to her apartment, she tossed her mail onto the counter and grabbed her phone, already smirking to herself. She opened the group chat with Harper and Lila, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

Y/N:

Guess who I just ran into in the mailroom?

It didn’t take long for her phone to buzz with replies.

Lila:

Was it… oh, I don’t know… Mr. Grumpy Hot Neighbor?

Harper:

Harry! Tell us everything right now.

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly, typing out her reply.

Y/N:

Yes, it was Harry. I introduced myself properly. You know, as a fully functional adult and not a drunken mess.

Lila:

And? Did he swoon? Did he drop all his mail and propose on the spot?

Harper:

Or at least crack a smile?

Y/N sighed and leaned back against the counter, smirking to herself as she typed.

Y/N:

Absolutely not. He was… well, Harry. Polite but distant. He might’ve almost smiled, but I can’t be sure.

Lila:

Ugh, he’s really sticking to the mysterious moody thing. It’s so hot. What did you say to him?

Y/N:

I told him he was hard to read and said I’d make him laugh one day.

Harper:

Bold move, I love it. What did he say?

Y/N:

He said, ‘We’ll see about that.’

Lila:

STOP. That’s basically flirting.

Harper:

Right? That’s flirty! Subtle, broody flirting.

Y/N:

You two are ridiculous. It wasn’t flirting. He’s just… like that.

Lila:

Y/N, this is your rom-com moment, and you’re living in denial. Grumpy guy + sunshine girl is literally a trope for a reason.

Harper:

Exactly. Next step: get him to join us for karaoke.

Y/N:

Oh, sure, because he definitely seems like the kind of guy who wants to sing ‘Toxic’ with us.

Lila:

You never know. Maybe he has a secret karaoke voice that’ll blow us all away.

Y/N laughed to herself, shaking her head. Her friends were relentless, but she couldn’t deny that their enthusiasm made her smile. As much as she tried to brush off the encounter, she couldn’t stop replaying it in her head—the way Harry’s green eyes lingered just a second too long, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

It had been a couple of weeks since Y/N’s encounter with Harry in the mailroom, and she’d managed to push him to the back of her mind. Between work, friends, and her usual routine, she hadn’t bumped into him in the halls or around the building. Life went on, and the memory of his grumpy smirk became just another amusing anecdote to share with Harper and Lila.

Until one night.

Y/N was jolted awake by the blaring sound of the fire alarm. Disoriented and groggy, she stumbled out of bed and grabbed a sweatshirt, pulling it over her pajama tank top. She shoved her feet into sneakers, grabbed her phone, and headed for the door. The hallway was chaotic, filled with neighbors in various states of sleepiness and confusion, all heading for the exits.

Once outside, Y/N joined the crowd of residents gathering on the sidewalk. The chilly night air bit at her skin, and she crossed her arms to keep warm. She craned her neck, scanning the crowd to see if there was anyone she knew—until her eyes landed on a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost.

It was Harry. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction, and he wore a hoodie over loose sweatpants. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, which, to be fair, he probably had. His expression was pure exhaustion, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he yawned.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She made her way over, her footsteps crunching on the gravel. “Hey, neighbor,” she said, coming to a stop next to him.

Harry turned his head, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he registered her. “Y/N,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. “This is… unexpected.” He waved his hand around.

She grinned, shifting her weight to one foot. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. But hey, at least it’s the fire alarms being obnoxiously loud this time and not me.”

Harry’s lips twitched, and for a second, she thought she’d finally gotten him to crack a smile. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” he asked dryly.

“Never,” Y/N replied, a teasing lilt in her voice. “It’s too good of a story.”

Harry exhaled softly, almost like a laugh, and shook his head. “Fair enough.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching as a fire truck pulled up and a couple of firefighters headed inside to investigate. The air was crisp and carried a faint chill, but Y/N barely noticed. She glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you think it’s an actual fire?” she asked.

“Doubt it,” he said, crossing his arms. “Probably just someone burning their midnight snack.”

“Sounds like a riveting Saturday night,” Y/N joked, earning another small exhale from him.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered, glancing down at her. His gaze lingered for a moment, and Y/N could feel her cheeks warm, though she tried to play it cool.

“Well,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “If it turns out to be a drill, I’m demanding a formal apology from management for ruining my beauty sleep.”

Harry’s lips quirked, just enough for her to notice. “I’m sure they’ll get right on that.”

For the first time, standing outside in the middle of the night with Harry didn’t feel awkward or forced. It was easy, natural even, despite his perpetually tired and broody demeanor. Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the situation, or maybe her persistence was finally wearing him down.

Before either of them could say more, a firefighter emerged from the building, shouting to the crowd that it was a false alarm. People groaned, some laughing as they shuffled back toward the entrance.

Harry pushed off the lamppost and looked at Y/N. “Guess that’s our cue.”

“Looks like it,” she said. “Catch you later, Harry.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable but not unkind. “Night, Y/N.”

As she headed back to her apartment, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a small spark of satisfaction. Sure, he was still grumpy, but she was getting closer to breaking through. And honestly, she didn’t mind the challenge.

By the time Y/N woke up the next morning, she had already drafted the text she knew Harper and Lila would demand. Still half-asleep, she grabbed her phone and opened their group chat, typing out the full story in detail.

Y/N:

So… guess who I bumped into at 3 a.m. when the fire alarm went off?

It didn’t take long for her phone to buzz with rapid-fire responses.

Harper:

Oh my God. HARRY?

Lila:

Please tell me you were both standing there in your PJs like the meet-cute of the century.

Y/N:

No, it wasn’t a meet-cute. We just talked. Very normal. Nothing groundbreaking.

Harper:

What did you talk about?

Y/N:

I made a joke about how this time it wasn’t me being loud, it was the fire alarm.

Lila:

YES. Classic Y/N. What did he say?

Y/N:

He just… smirked. Or sighed. I’m honestly not sure anymore. He’s so hard to read.

Harper:

Smirking counts as flirting. I’m logging it.

Lila:

Definitely flirting. He wouldn’t have smirked if he wasn’t secretly interested. Men don’t waste smirks on people they don’t like.

Y/N:

Or he was just tired and didn’t care enough to argue.

Harper:

Nope. Not buying it. He’s interested. He’s just grumpy interested.

Lila:

Exactly! Brooding types like him don’t wear their feelings on their sleeves, but trust me, he’s intrigued. You just need to keep working on him.

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile.

Y/N:

You two are absolutely ridiculous. We talked for five minutes, tops. Nothing more, nothing less.

Harper:

Sure, keep telling yourself that.

Lila:

Face it, Y/N. This is your slow-burn romance, and we are here for it. We’re already planning the playlist for your wedding.

Y/N:

Oh my God. I can’t with you two.

Despite her protests, Y/N couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in her mind—the way his eyes lingered on her, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Harper and Lila were reading too much into it… weren’t they?

Shaking her head, Y/N tossed her phone onto the couch. She had no intention of indulging their wild theories. But deep down, a small, stubborn part of her couldn’t help but wonder.

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the faint shadows cast by her bedside lamp on the ceiling. The city sounds outside her window were faint but constant—cars in the distance, the occasional murmur of voices. She’d been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, her brain refusing to shut off.

It didn’t help that every time she closed her eyes, all she could think about was Harry.

It wasn’t intentional, or at least that’s what she told herself. She’d been trying to push him out of her mind all day, but now, in the stillness of the night, his image seemed to surface unbidden. The way his messy hair stuck out when she’d seen him by the mailboxes. The tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeves, the intricate designs winding across his arms like a story she desperately wanted to read.

And then there was his face—sharp jawline, green eyes that seemed to pierce through her defenses, and that faint smirk he’d given her last night when she’d cracked her fire alarm joke. It wasn’t a full smile, but it had been enough to spark something in her. Something she couldn’t quite shake.

She groaned, rolling onto her side and burying her face in her pillow. “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself.

But it was no use. She kept thinking about the way his voice sounded—low, calm, almost soothing in its quiet confidence. The way he seemed perpetually unimpressed but not unkind, like he was holding back a part of himself from the world. And the way, despite all that grumpiness, she felt drawn to him.

The worst part was that she barely even knew him. A few brief encounters, a handful of words exchanged—it wasn’t enough to warrant this level of overthinking. And yet, here she was, wide awake at 2 a.m., her thoughts spinning in circles around a guy who probably wasn’t thinking about her at all.

She sighed, flipping onto her back again and staring at the ceiling. “You’re losing it, Y/N,” she whispered into the dark.

But no matter how hard she tried to distract herself—counting sheep, replaying her favorite movie in her head, anything—her mind kept drifting back to Harry. How frustratingly attractive he was. How much she wanted to figure him out. And how, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she kind of liked the challenge.

The next afternoon, Y/N tied her apron around her waist and stepped onto the floor of the bustling Italian restaurant where she worked. The warm scent of garlic, fresh basil, and baking bread filled the air as the sounds of clinking silverware and cheerful conversations hummed around her. It was her favorite kind of shift—steady but not overwhelming, just busy enough to keep her energized.

She loved being a server. There was something satisfying about knowing the menu by heart, from the way the chef perfectly folded the handmade ravioli to the rich, velvety tiramisu that always left customers raving. She enjoyed the rhythm of it all: taking orders, making guests laugh, weaving between tables like she was part of a well-rehearsed dance.

By the time her shift ended, the sun was low in the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the city streets. Y/N slipped her bag over her shoulder, said goodbye to her coworkers, and began her short walk home.

The evening was warm, the kind of weather that made her glad she’d chosen this neighborhood to live in. She liked the convenience of being close to work, the charm of the old brick buildings, and the occasional vendor selling flowers or roasted nuts on the sidewalk.

But as she rounded the last corner toward her apartment building, the sky darkened suddenly. Heavy clouds rolled in overhead, and before she could process what was happening, the first fat drops of rain began to fall.

“Seriously?” Y/N muttered, looking up at the sky as if it might offer her an explanation. Within seconds, the light drizzle turned into a full-on downpour. She didn’t have an umbrella, of course—it had been sunny when she left for work—and now she was too far from the restaurant to go back.

She quickened her pace, pulling her bag closer to her body to shield it from the rain. Her hair was already plastered to her forehead, and her clothes clung to her as the rain soaked through. She groaned in frustration but couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

By the time her apartment building came into view, she was drenched. She jogged the last stretch, her sneakers splashing in puddles, and darted toward the lobby entrance. As she reached for the door, it opened from the inside—and there, standing in the doorway, was Harry.

Of course, it was Harry.

He was holding a takeout bag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. His green eyes widened slightly when he saw her, taking in her rain-soaked appearance.

“Rough night?” he asked, his voice dry but laced with faint amusement.

Y/N brushed a wet strand of hair out of her face, shaking water from her arms. “You could say that. Apparently, the weather decided I needed a shower.”

Harry stepped back, holding the door open for her. “You’re dripping everywhere.”

“Thanks for the observation,” Y/N said with a wry smile as she stepped inside, water pooling around her feet. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He smirked, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary before he nodded toward the elevators. “You should probably get upstairs before you flood the lobby.”

“Wow, you’re so thoughtful,” she teased, her sarcasm barely masking the warmth in her voice.

Harry didn’t reply, but his lips twitched like he was holding back a comment. He stepped aside, letting her pass, and as Y/N headed toward the elevator, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. He was still standing by the door, his attention now on the rain outside, but she could’ve sworn she caught him sneaking a glance at her as she walked away.

Y/N stepped into her apartment, water dripping onto the floor as she kicked off her soaked sneakers. She stripped off her rain-soaked clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket before heading straight to the bathroom. The hot water of the shower was bliss, washing away the chill of the rain and the lingering frustration of getting caught in it. By the time she stepped out, wrapped in a fluffy towel, her skin was warm and her mind was clearer.

Slipping into her favorite pair of soft pajamas—shorts and an oversized t-shirt—she towel-dried her hair and grabbed her phone from the counter. She hadn’t checked it since leaving work, and the screen lit up with a few notifications. Most were unimportant, but one text made her freeze.

Unknown Number:

Hey, it’s Harry. Got your number from the resident book. Hope that’s okay. I, uh, ordered way too much food. If you’re not busy and don’t mind eating with someone who’s terrible at small talk, you’re welcome to join me.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Harry had texted her? She stared at the message, rereading it a couple of times, unsure what to make of it. The grumpy, brooding neighbor had gone out of his way to invite her over for dinner?

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she thought about what to say. She could easily come up with an excuse, blame the rain, or even politely decline. But something about his message—how he’d gone through the trouble of looking up her number and even made a self-deprecating joke—made her hesitate.

Finally, she started typing.

Y/N:

Hey! I’m surprised you didn’t mention how loud I was running through the lobby earlier. I’d love to join, but fair warning: I’m in my pajamas. I’ll bring wine to make up for it.

She hit send before she could second-guess herself and immediately got up to rummage through her small wine rack. She picked out a bottle of red, grabbed her favorite corkscrew, and texted him again.

Y/N:

Give me five minutes to make myself look less like a wet dog.

His response came almost instantly.

Harry:

I wouldn’t have said anything about the lobby, but now that you’ve brought it up… five minutes works. Apartment 4D.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. She quickly towel-dried her hair a little more, tossed it into a loose bun, and grabbed the wine. As she stood by her door, nerves fluttered in her stomach, but she pushed them aside.

Whatever this was—neighborly dinner, an olive branch, or something else—she was curious enough to find out.

Y/N stepped out of her apartment, the bottle of wine in hand, and made her way to the elevator. As she descended a floor, her nerves started to tingle, though she shook them off. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just dinner with her neighbor. Her very attractive, grumpy neighbor with tattoos and a British accent. Nothing to overthink at all.

When she reached Harry’s door, she raised her hand to knock—but before she could, the door swung open. Harry stood there, leaning casually against the frame, one eyebrow raised.

“I could hear you coming down the hall,” he said, his tone dry but his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

Y/N let out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “I’ll take that as your way of saying you’re happy to see me.”

“Something like that,” he replied, stepping aside to let her in.

Y/N walked in, glancing around as she entered. Harry’s apartment was similar in layout to hers but had an entirely different vibe. The walls were painted a deep, moody gray, with shelves lined with books, records, and a few small plants that looked suspiciously well cared for. A guitar rested in the corner by the window, and the faint smell of takeout wafted from the small kitchen.

“Nice place,” she said, setting the wine on the counter. “Very… broody chic. Fits you.”

Harry arched a brow as he closed the door. “Broody chic? Is that a compliment?”

“Depends how you take it,” Y/N shot back with a grin.

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he moved toward the kitchen. “Hope you’re hungry. I may have overestimated how much I can eat on my own.”

She followed him, glancing at the spread on the counter. There were containers of what looked like Thai food—pad thai, green curry, fried rice, and spring rolls. Definitely enough for two, if not three.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said, grabbing a spring roll. “Planning on feeding the whole building?”

“Only the loudest resident,” he said, smirking again.

She gave him a playful glare before grabbing plates from the counter and handing him one. “Lucky for you, I came prepared,” she said, holding up the wine. “This should balance things out.”

As they settled at the small table, Y/N couldn’t help but notice how relaxed Harry seemed. He wasn’t smiling, not really, but there was something softer about him tonight. Less guarded. And as they started eating, trading sarcastic comments and occasional small talk, she realized she didn’t mind the challenge of cracking through his tough exterior one bit.

Harry handed Y/N two wine glasses, their fingers brushing briefly as she took them. He didn’t say anything, but his lips moved slightly as if he was trying not to smirk. Y/N poured the wine, filling each glass just enough before sliding one over to him.

Meanwhile, he plated the food, carefully dividing the dishes between two plates. His movements were deliberate, almost methodical, and Y/N found herself watching him for a moment before realizing what she was doing. Shaking herself out of it, she grabbed her glass and followed him to the bar counter.

They sat side by side, the warm glow of the pendant light above them casting a cozy atmosphere. Y/N took a sip of her wine, her gaze flicking to Harry as he started eating in silence.

For a while, she stayed quiet, enjoying the food and the unspoken rhythm of their shared meal. But her curiosity got the better of her. Setting her glass down, she turned toward him slightly, resting her elbow on the counter.

“So,” she began, her tone light but probing, “why are you always so grumpy?”

Harry paused mid-bite, his fork hovering over his plate as he looked at her. His green eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but as if he were trying to decide how serious she was.

“Grumpy?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, grumpy,” she said, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You know, the whole emo, barely-smiling, ‘I don’t have time for your nonsense’ vibe you’ve got going on. Is it like… your thing?”

Harry leaned back slightly, taking a slow sip of his wine as he considered her question. “Maybe I’m not grumpy,” he said finally, his voice calm. “Maybe you’re just too… cheerful.”

“Cheerful?” she echoed, laughing softly. “That’s your explanation? I’m cheerful, so that automatically makes you grumpy?”

“Something like that,” he said, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling. “You’re deflecting.”

He raised his glass, meeting her gaze over the rim as he took another sip. “Maybe.”

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning in slightly. “There’s got to be a reason. I mean, you’re not actuallymiserable all the time, are you?”

Harry sighed, setting his glass down and leaning his forearms on the counter. For a moment, he seemed to be debating whether or not to answer. Finally, he shrugged.

“I’m not grumpy,” he said, his voice quieter. “I just… don’t see the point in pretending all the time. People put on this front like everything’s great, but most of the time, it’s not. I’m just… honest about it.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. There was something in his tone—something unspoken but heavy, like he was revealing more than he intended.

“Well,” she said softly, “for what it’s worth, I don’t think being happy is the same as pretending. And I’m not pretending.”

Harry glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “I noticed,” he said simply.

Her cheeks warmed, and for a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of the conversation settling between them. Then Y/N picked up her glass and raised it toward him.

“To being honest,” she said with a small smile.

Harry’s eyes flicked to her glass before he picked up his own, clinking it against hers. “To being honest,” he echoed.

And for the first time that evening, his smirk softened into something closer to a smile.

Harry swirled the wine in his glass, staring at the deep red liquid for a moment before setting it down and looking at Y/N. His expression was more open now, his usual guarded demeanor softened.

“You seem nice enough,” he said, his tone casual but sincere. “I could use a friend around here.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the admission. For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Then a warm smile spread across her face.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” she said, her voice light with humor. “I thought for sure you hated me after the whole karaoke fiasco.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his lips twitching in amusement. “Hated you? No. Annoyed, maybe. But hate’s a strong word.”

“Good to know,” Y/N said, laughing softly. “Because I was convinced you’d written me off as the world’s loudest neighbor.”

“I’ll admit,” Harry said, smirking now, “the karaoke was… a lot. But it’s hard to hate someone who sings ‘I Want It That Way’ with that much enthusiasm.”

Y/N covered her face with her hands, laughing harder. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember the song. That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s unforgettable,” he said with mock seriousness, taking another sip of wine.

When her laughter died down, Y/N looked at him, her expression softening. “For what it’s worth, I’d be happy to be your friend. You don’t seem as scary as you pretend to be.”

“Scary?” Harry echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” she teased. “You’ve got the whole ‘grumpy lone wolf’ thing going on. It’s a little intimidating.”

Harry shook his head, but there was a faint smile on his face. “I’m not scary.”

“No,” Y/N said, grinning. “You’re not. You’re just… Harry.”

He didn’t respond right away, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. Finally, he nodded, his tone soft but certain. “Yeah. Just Harry.”

As they continued eating, the conversation grew lighter, the initial tension between them fading into something comfortable. By the time they finished their meal, Y/N realized that beneath Harry’s gruff exterior was someone she genuinely wanted to know better. And judging by the way his smirk had softened into something warmer, she suspected he felt the same.

After finishing their plates, Harry leaned back in his chair, resting his forearm on the bar counter as he glanced at Y/N. There was a comfortable silence between them, one she hadn’t expected when she first showed up at his door.

“Thanks for coming over,” he said finally, his tone quieter but sincere. “I don’t usually… do this.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, swirling her wine in her glass. “What? Order too much food or invite people over?”

He smirked faintly, shaking his head. “The second one. I’m not exactly the ‘neighborly dinner’ type.”

“Well, I feel special then,” she teased, tilting her head at him. “Although, if you’re not usually this social, why’d you invite me? I mean, not that I’m complaining.”

Harry shrugged, glancing down at his glass. “You seemed… different. I don’t know. Most people I meet just seem fake, like they’re putting on a show. But you’re…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Real.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty of his words. “Oh,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “Well, thanks. I think.”

“I mean it,” Harry added, looking at her directly now. “You’re… not what I expected when I moved here. In a good way.”

Her cheeks warmed at his words, and she tried to play it off with humor. “Careful, Harry. You’re starting to sound like you actually like me.”

“Don’t push it,” he said with a smirk, though his eyes were softer than usual.

They fell into another comfortable silence, sipping their wine and letting the moment stretch out. Y/N felt herself relax more with each passing second, realizing how easy it was to be around him now that some of his walls had come down.

After a moment, she broke the quiet. “You know, for someone who claims not to be social, you’re pretty good company.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” she said, her grin widening. “You should let yourself be social more often. You might surprise yourself.”

He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “One step at a time.”

They shared a small laugh, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was a turning point. Whatever Harry had been holding back before, he was letting her in now, even if only a little. It felt… nice.

Eventually, she glanced at her phone and realized how late it had gotten. “I should probably head back,” she said, setting her empty wine glass down. “I’ve already overstayed my welcome.”

Harry stood as she got up, shaking his head. “You haven’t. But… thanks for coming. I mean it.”

She smiled, grabbing the bottle of wine. “Anytime, Harry.”

As she walked to the door, he followed her, leaning casually against the frame as she turned back to face him. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at her, a softness she wasn’t used to seeing from him.

“Goodnight,” she said, her voice lighter now.

“Night, Y/N,” he replied, his smirk returning.

She headed back to her apartment, her heart unexpectedly lighter. Maybe Harry wasn’t as grumpy as he seemed—or maybe she was just getting used to it. Either way, she found herself smiling as she closed her door behind her. And for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t overthinking anything.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sunlight filtering through her blinds and a faint smile lingering on her lips. The night before with Harry had been… unexpected, but not in a bad way. She stretched, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and immediately opened her group chat with Harper and Lila.

Y/N:

So, guess what? Harry invited me over for dinner last night.

It didn’t take long for her phone to explode with notifications.

Lila:

WHAT. DETAILS NOW.

Harper:

DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?!

Y/N rolled her eyes, her cheeks warming despite being alone.

Y/N:

No, I didn’t sleep with him. Calm down.

Lila:

Boring. But continue.

Harper:

Okay, but like, did it feel like it was going there?

Y/N:

No! It wasn’t like that. He said he had too much food and could use a friend, so I brought wine, and we had dinner. That’s it.

Lila:

You brought wine. That’s a date move.

Harper:

Right? Totally a date.

Y/N:

It wasn’t a date. We ate at his bar counter, talked a little, and that’s all. But…

Lila:

BUT WHAT?!

Harper:

Spill, Y/N. Don’t make us beg.

Y/N sighed, biting her lip as she typed out her next message.

Y/N:

Okay, fine. I wouldn’t mind if something happened, but it’s not like I know much about him. I don’t even know what he does for work.

Lila:

Oh my God. You want to bang the mysterious, tattooed neighbor. I KNEW IT.

Harper:

This is your grumpy/sunshine romance, and we are living for it.

Y/N:

You two are ridiculous. I’m just saying he’s attractive, okay? That doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.

Lila:

It’ll happen. The sexual tension alone is probably unbearable.

Harper:

Agreed. You just need to ask him questions about himself. What he does for work, what his favorite food is, if he’s single—

Lila:

Definitely ask the last one. For research purposes.

Y/N groaned, shaking her head but smiling despite herself.

Y/N:

You two are impossible. But fine, if the opportunity comes up, I’ll try to find out more about him. Happy?

Harper:

Ecstatic.

Lila:

Can’t wait to hear how this unfolds. We’re already planning the wedding playlist.

Y/N laughed, tossing her phone onto the bed. Her friends were relentless, but they weren’t wrong about one thing—she was curious about Harry. And as much as she tried to deny it, she wouldn’t mind getting to know him better… or seeing where this strange connection between them might lead.

Later that month Y/N walked into her apartment after a long day, expecting the usual cozy warmth to greet her. Instead, an icy chill hit her the moment she stepped inside. She frowned, rubbing her arms and heading straight for the thermostat. She fiddled with it for a minute, but no matter what she did, the heater refused to turn on.

“Great,” she muttered, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. It wasn’t unbearably cold outside, but inside her apartment, it felt like a freezer.

With no other options, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She didn’t know many people in the building—just Harry, really. And as much as she hesitated, her fingers hovered over his name before she finally sent a text.

Y/N:

Hey, random question. Do you happen to have a small heater or something I can borrow? My heater’s broken, and it’s freezing in here.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed.

Harry:

Why don’t you just stay here tonight? I’ve got heat, and I don’t own a portable heater.

Y/N stared at the message, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t expected that. Borrowing something was one thing, but staying at his place? She hesitated, her fingers tapping lightly against the screen. Before she could overthink it, she typed out a response.

Y/N:

Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

His reply was quick.

Harry:

You’re not intruding. Besides, it’s better than you freezing to death in your apartment. Bring whatever you need.

She bit her lip, a mix of nerves and curiosity swirling in her chest. Finally, she grabbed a bag and threw in some essentials—pajamas, a toothbrush, and a few other things—before bundling up and heading out.

When she reached his door, she knocked softly. It opened almost immediately, and there was Harry, leaning against the frame with his usual calm demeanor.

“Figured you’d take me up on the offer,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Yeah, well, hypothermia didn’t sound appealing,” Y/N replied with a small smile, brushing past him into the warmth of his apartment.

As she set her bag down by the couch, she glanced at him. “Thanks for this, by the way. I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, closing the door. “No problem. It’s just one night.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Wow, Harry. That almost sounded like you’re happy to have me here.”

He gave her a dry look but didn’t respond, instead gesturing toward the couch. “You can take the couch if you want, or I can grab some extra blankets for the guest room.”

She looked at the couch, then back at him. “Guest room? You have a guest room?”

“Barely,” he said with a shrug. “It’s more of a storage room, but there’s a bed in there.”

“Well, as long as it’s warmer than my apartment, I’ll take it.”

Harry nodded, heading toward the hallway. “I’ll grab some blankets.”

As Harry disappeared down the hallway to grab blankets, Y/N called after him, her voice light and teasing. “By the way, I brought some wine as a thank-you! You know, for saving me from my frozen wasteland of an apartment.”

She heard him chuckle faintly, his voice drifting back from the other room. “Thoughtful of you. What kind?”

“Red. A classic, nothing too fancy,” she replied, smirking as she started to take the bottle out of her bag. “Figured you’d prefer something a little understated, given your whole ‘mysterious and broody’ vibe.”

Harry reappeared in the doorway, carrying a thick blanket over one shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at her. “I think you enjoy calling me broody a little too much.”

“Well, it fits,” she shot back, grinning. “Speaking of which, I realized something earlier—I don’t even know what you do for work. So, enlighten me, oh mysterious one. What is it that you do?”

Harry paused for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I own an art gallery,” he said simply, setting the blanket on the couch.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “You own an art gallery?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “Small place over in Silver Lake. Nothing flashy, just local artists and smaller exhibitions.”

She stared at him, her curiosity piqued. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“What did you see coming?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, laughing softly. “Something more… I don’t know, corporate? Like sitting at a desk all day and brooding at spreadsheets.”

Harry actually laughed at that, a low, warm sound that surprised her. “Sorry to disappoint. No spreadsheets involved.”

“No, it’s not disappointing,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s just… unexpected. I mean, you own an art gallery. That’s cool. Artistic and grumpy? You’re full of surprises, Harry.”

He shook his head, but there was a faint warmth in his expression, like her enthusiasm had caught him off guard. “It’s just a business.”

“Just a business?” she repeated, tilting her head. “Don’t undersell yourself. That’s impressive.”

He looked at her for a moment, his gaze steady. “Thanks.”

They fell into a brief silence, and Y/N felt the air shift slightly. It wasn’t awkward—if anything, it felt… comfortable. She gestured to the wine. “So, should we open this or what?”

Harry nodded, stepping into the kitchen to grab two glasses. “Why not? You’re my guest, after all.”

As he poured the wine, Y/N couldn’t help but think that for someone who seemed so guarded at first, Harry was slowly becoming an open book—one she was eager to keep reading.

Y/N leaned against the counter, swirling her glass of wine as she watched Harry pour his own. “So, how did you end up owning an art gallery?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “I mean, that’s not exactly the most common career path.”

Harry took a sip of his wine, his gaze thoughtful as he set the glass down. “I’ve always loved art. Painting, sketching… that sort of thing. But it’s not exactly the easiest way to make a living.”

Y/N nodded, understanding the struggle. “So, the gallery was a way to stay involved in the art world?”

“Something like that,” he said, leaning his hip against the counter. “I came into some money after my mom passed a few years ago. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to make me think about what I really wanted to do. I didn’t want to sit in an office or work for someone else. I wanted something that felt… personal. The gallery felt like the right choice.”

“That’s incredible,” Y/N said, her voice soft. “I mean, turning something you love into a business? Not many people can say they’ve done that.”

Harry shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “It has its challenges, but I don’t regret it.”

Y/N smiled at him, feeling a new layer of respect for her neighbor. After a moment, he tilted his head, his eyes flicking to her. “What about you? What do you do?”

She hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Oh, nothing nearly as impressive as you,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just a server. I work at an Italian restaurant a few blocks from here.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?” she asked, frowning.

“Like it’s nothing. You said you’re ‘just’ a server,” he said, taking another sip of his wine. “You’re in food service, right? That’s an art in itself. Just… a different kind.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his perspective. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”

He nodded, gesturing with his glass. “Think about it. You’re part of creating an experience for people. The way the food’s presented, the way you interact with customers—it’s all part of the artistry. Doesn’t matter if it’s a painting on a wall or a plate of pasta. It’s still something people connect with.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over her. “That’s… actually really nice of you to say.”

“It’s true,” Harry said simply, his green eyes meeting hers. “Stop selling yourself short.”

She smiled, feeling unexpectedly lighter. “Thanks, Harry. I guess I’ll try to keep that in mind the next time someone complains about their breadsticks not being warm enough.”

He chuckled at that, shaking his head. “Breadsticks or not, it sounds like you’re good at what you do.”

Y/N sipped her wine, the corners of her lips curving up.

Y/N swirled the wine in her glass, glancing at Harry over the rim. She hesitated for a moment, then decided to push the conversation a little further. “You know,” she began, her voice softer now, “you have a really nice way of thinking about things. The way you look at art, even food… it’s kind of impressive.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with an amused expression. “Is that your way of saying I’m not just a grumpy neighbor?”

“Maybe,” she said with a small grin, her tone almost teasing. “But seriously, you’ve got a smart mind, Harry. You see things in a way most people don’t.”

He tilted his head slightly, his green eyes studying her as if trying to figure out her angle. “Are you flirting with me, Y/N?”

She laughed, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. “And if I was?”

Harry’s lips curved into a faint smirk, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow sip of his wine, his gaze never leaving hers. “Then I’d say it’s about time you stopped pretending you find me intimidating.”

“I never said you intimidate me,” she shot back, her grin widening. “I said you have a grumpy vibe. Totally different.”

“Right,” he said, his tone dry but his smirk giving him away. “Good to know I’m not scaring you off.”

“Not even close,” Y/N replied, her voice confident now. She leaned her elbow on the counter, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at him. “You’re not as scary as you think, Harry. In fact, I think you’re kind of… interesting.”

Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

“Right back at you,” she said, her gaze warm.

For a moment, the air between them shifted. The playful banter was still there, but beneath it was something quieter, something unspoken. Y/N didn’t know what exactly was happening, but she wasn’t in a hurry to break the moment.

Harry finally set his glass down, his expression softening just slightly. “Careful, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but with a hint of amusement. “You keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

“Maybe I do,” she said simply, holding his gaze.

The corners of his mouth twitched, and for the first time, he didn’t deflect her comment. Instead, he just looked at her, something unreadable flickering in his green eyes. Y/N felt her heartbeat quicken, but she didn’t look away.

The mood in the room shifted as Harry leaned forward, his green eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice low and teasing as he said, "You wouldn't be able to handle me."

Her breath caught, but she wasn't about to let him have the last word.

"Try me," she challenged, her voice steady but laced with anticipation.

Harry's eyes darkened, the playful smirk on his lips giving way to something deeper, something more raw. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and placed his hand lightly on her throat-not gripping, just resting, his thumb brushing the edge of her jaw. The warmth of his touch made her heart race, and she felt her breath hitch as he leaned in closer.

For a moment, the world around them seemed to disappear, the only sound her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Then, without another word, Harry closed the gap between them, capturing her lips in a deep, searing kiss.

It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rushed either-it was deliberate, like he'd been holding himself back and was finally letting go. His lips moved against hers with a confidence that left no room for hesitation, and Y/N melted into the kiss, her hand instinctively reaching out to grip the edge of the counter for balance.

She kissed him back just as fervently, tilting her head to deepen the connection. His fingers slid from her throat to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as though he couldn't get enough of her. The heat between them was undeniable, and in that moment, nothing else mattered-not the chill of her broken heater, not the wine, not the playful banter that had led them here.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads nearly touching. Harry's green eyes searched hers, and for once, his usual guarded expression was nowhere to be found.

"Still think I can't handle you?" Y/N whispered, her voice a little breathless but tinged with humor.

Harry smirked, his hand still lingering at the nape of her neck.

"Guess I underestimated you," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "But l'm not done yet.”

Harry's hand slid down from Y/N's neck to her wrist, his grip firm but careful as he led her through his apartment toward his bedroom.

Her heart pounded in anticipation, her breath catching when he opened the door and gently but deliberately pushed her onto the bed.

Y/N gasped softly, propping herself up on her elbows as she looked up at him. The intensity in his green eyes made her pulse race, and the energy between them was electric, the room feeling heavier with every passing second.

Harry stepped closer, his movements slow and controlled, like he was savoring the moment.

He placed a hand on her throat again, this time with a gentle but deliberate squeeze that sent a shiver down her spine. His thumb brushed along her jawline as he leaned in, his voice low and commanding.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he asked, his tone dripping with authority and heat.

Y/N's breath hitched as she nodded slowly, unable to look away from his piercing gaze.

Her voice was caught somewhere in her throat, so she let her actions speak for her, tilting her head slightly into his touch.

Harry smirked, leaning down until his lips were just a breath away from her ear. His voice dropped even lower, a whisper that made her skin prickle with anticipation.

"I knew you would be," he murmured, his tone both teasing and possessive.

The words sent a jolt through her, and she felt her body react instinctively, her cheeks flushing as she surrendered to the moment.

Harry's lips brushed against the corner of her jaw, trailing down her neck as his hand stayed firmly but gently in place. Every movement felt deliberate, like he wanted her to feel every second of his attention.

Whatever control Y/N thought she had going into this was slipping fast, and the way Harry's touch consumed her made it clear—he knew it, too.

Harry paused, his intense green eyes meeting Y/N’s as he leaned over her. His hand lingered on her throat, his grip light but enough to hold her attention completely. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, didn’t move any closer. He just looked at her, his gaze softening slightly, as if he were silently asking her a question.

It wasn’t just a look—it was a pause, a chance for her to stop him if she wanted to. His eyes, usually so guarded, were now open and searching, silently asking for her consent.

Y/N’s heart raced as she looked back at him, feeling the weight of his unspoken question. She swallowed, her breath shallow as she gave him the answer he was waiting for. Slowly, purposely, she nodded.

Harry’s lips curved into a faint smile, a mixture of relief and satisfaction crossing his face. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an edge of tenderness.

He leaned down again, his lips brushing hers as his hand on her throat tightened just slightly, enough to make her feel both safe and completely at his mercy. And as the space between them disappeared, Y/N felt herself giving in fully, her trust in him unwavering.

Harry's piercing gaze never left Y/N's face, his touch as light as a butterfly's wings. He slowly pulled her to the edge, his hands on her hips. The soft rustle of sheets filled the room as she sank into the bedding, eyes darting up to meet his.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him undoing his pants, revealing his hardness beneath. She gulped audibly as he climbed onto the bed with her, their bodies pressed together from chest to knees. His hand trailed down her side, stopping just above her thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. His touch sent shivers of anticipation up and down her spine.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against her earlobe, his hot breath causing goosebumps to form on her skin.

She bit her lip, hesitating for only a moment before whispering back, "I want you to take control."

Harry's smirk was both predatory and reassuring as he nodded once in understanding. His hand slid underneath her shirt, tracing patterns across her stomach before moving higher till it reached its destination: her lacy black bra. He palmed one of her breasts through the fabric, eliciting a moan from deep within her throat that echoed around them. His thumb circled her nipple roughly, making it harden into a tight bud underneath his touch.

His lips followed suit, kissing along her jawline and trailing down towards that erect nipple. He flicked it with his tongue teasingly while simultaneously tug

His smile was wicked as he leaned back, a glint in his eye. "Is that so?" He trailed kisses down her neck, his stubble grazing against her sensitive skin, making her shudder with pleasure. His hand slid between their bodies and brushed against her center, indulging in the wetness there. She gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch.

"You're so ready for me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He pushed her shorts aside and slid one finger inside her slowly, feeling the tightness surrounding him. Y/N moaned softly, her hips grinding against his hand in encouragement.

Harry removed his finger, teasing her as he lowered his head to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. He growled softly against her skin, sucking gently as he began to thrust two fingers inside her in short, quick motions that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She cried out softly, gripping the sheets beneath her as he continued his ministrations. He quickly undressed her and stared at her body. Y/N felt hot under his eyes.

They quickly lost themselves in each other's touches. The squeak of the bedframe echoed in the room as Harry positioned himself at her entrance and pushed inside her slowly. She gasped at the fullness but welcomed it, urging him on with a nod of encouragement.

He slowed down, taking deep breaths to regain control as he braced himself above her. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked hoarsely, gaze locked onto hers.

Y/N nodded fiercely, signaling him to continue. With a low growl of approval, he began moving inside her slowly but steadily, their

bodies meeting in a dance of desire. Every thrust sent ripples of pleasure through them both, their skin slick with sweat under the dim light of the bedside lamp. The air was thick with an almost palpable tension as they moved together, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the room.

Harry's grip on her hips tightened, his rhythm becoming faster and harder, mirroring the desire that flared in his eyes. Y/N met him stroke for stroke, their eyes locked on each other as if they were the only two people in the room. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the silence beneath the duvet, broken only by their heavy breathing and soft moans.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she neared her climax, his name falling from her lips in a whispered plea. Without missing a beat, he quickened his pace, his cock driving into her with urgency. Their connection was intense, overwhelming, everything she could have asked for and more.

As she cried out in ecstasy beneath him, feeling her orgasm wash over her like a wave, Harry followed close behind. His body tensed as he groaned loudly, filling her with his warmth and love. Their hearts raced in unison as they finally collapsed onto each other, panting heavily but content.

He rolled off her slowly, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before rolling onto his back beside her.

Harry lay on his side, propped up on one elbow as he looked down at Y/N. His green eyes were softer now, a flicker of mischief dancing in them as he smirked.

"So," he said, his voice low and teasing, "are you going to text your little girl chat and tell them we fucked?" Y/N let out a surprised laugh, turning her head to look at him.

"What? No! They'd never let me live it down."

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself.

"You should. Tell them the hot, mysterious guy was really grumpy the whole time."Y/N laughed even harder, covering her face with her hand.

"Oh, right. That'll really sell it. 'Hey, girls, just an FYl, my grumpy neighbor is not only hot but also excellent in bed. Highly recommend.'"

Harry chuckled, his grin widening. "Not bad. Make sure you add in the part about how I stayed in character the whole time-grumpy and all."

She rolled her eyes, still smiling as she nudged him playfully. "Fine. I'll throw in that your scowl is even sexier up close. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he said dryly, though the amused glint in his eyes gave him away. YN shook her head, the laughter subsiding into a warm smile.

"You know," she said, her tone softening, "you might be mysterious and grumpy, but you're also a little cocky. Just saying."

Harry leaned down, his face inches from hers.

"Maybe," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "But I think you like it."

Her cheeks flushed as she looked up at him, biting back a grin. "Maybe I do."

"Good," he said simply, before capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss that made her forget about everything else-including her friends waiting for updates in the group chat.

The week passed in a blur of near-misses and brief encounters between Y/N and Harry. She saw him in the mailroom once, where he gave her a small nod and the faintest hint of a smirk before disappearing upstairs. Another time, they crossed paths in the hallway, exchanging quick hellos but nothing more.

Neither of them brought up the night they spent together, and while Y/N tried to brush it off as a casual hookup, part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he was deliberately avoiding the topic. She didn’t want to push, figuring Harry would open up if and when he was ready.

Then, one evening, as she was curled up on her couch with a glass of wine and her laptop, her phone buzzed with a text.

Harry:

Hey. Sorry I’ve been so distant this week. The gallery is getting ready for a new showing, and it’s been… a lot.

Y/N stared at the message for a moment, her stomach fluttering. She hadn’t expected him to reach out, let alone apologize.

Y/N:

Hey, no worries. I figured you were busy. New showing sounds exciting though!

A moment later, her phone buzzed again.

Harry:

It is. Stressful, but worth it. You should come by. It’s this Saturday night. Bring your friends if you want.

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Harry inviting her to his gallery? That felt… significant.

Y/N:

I’d love to. Are you sure you want me to bring my friends? They’re a little… loud.

Harry:

If they’re anything like you, I’m already prepared for chaos.

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

Y/N:

Fair warning: chaos is guaranteed. But I’ll be there.

Harry:

Good. I’ll send you the details tomorrow.

Y/N set her phone down, a small smile tugging at her lips. For all of Harry’s grumpiness and guarded demeanor, this felt like his way of extending an olive branch—a step toward something more. And she couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing him in his element, at the gallery, intrigued her.

She grabbed her phone again and opened the group chat with Harper and Lila.

Y/N:

Ladies, clear your schedules for Saturday night. We’re going to an art gallery.

Predictably, her phone exploded with responses almost immediately.

Lila:

Wait, is this Harry’s gallery?

Harper:

The grumpy tattooed neighbor has an art gallery?

Y/N:

Yes. He invited me. And before you ask—no, we’re not talking about the other night.

Lila:

Boring. But fine, we’re in. Is there wine?

Harper:

And snacks?

Y/N:

I’ll ask. But behave yourselves. He already thinks I’m loud.

Lila:

Oh, honey, we’re just getting started.

Y/N laughed, already imagining the chaos her friends would inevitably bring. But deep down, she was looking forward to Saturday more than she cared to admit.

The week crawled by as Saturday approached, each day slower than the last. Y/N found herself obsessing over small details—whether Harry would be too busy to notice her, what kind of people attended art gallery showings, and most importantly, what to wear. She wanted to look effortlessly put-together, like someone who appreciated art but wasn’t trying too hard.

By Saturday afternoon, her room was a battlefield of discarded outfits. Finally, she settled on a sleek black jumpsuit paired with a cropped denim jacket and ankle boots—stylish but not over the top. She added a few gold accessories and a swipe of lipstick before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

On the way to Silver Lake, she picked up Harper and Lila, who were already buzzing with excitement when they climbed into the car.

“You look hot,” Lila said, eyeing her outfit. “Very ‘I like art but I’m too cool to talk about it.’”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, laughing as she started the car. “I’m going for low-key, not intimidating.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” Harper chimed in, adjusting her blazer.

Y/N glanced at them in the rearview mirror, grinning. Harper wore a bold red jumpsuit, while Lila had opted for a metallic skirt and leather jacket.

By the time they pulled into Silver Lake, the sun had set, and the neighborhood was alive with energy. The gallery came into view, its windows glowing warmly against the evening sky. People were milling about on the sidewalk, chatting in small groups with glasses of wine in hand, while others filtered in and out of the bustling space.

“This is it,” Y/N said, parking the car and taking a deep breath.

“It’s so fancy,” Lila said, practically bouncing in her seat. “Look at all these people!”

Harper leaned forward, peering out the window. “I’m already picturing Harry brooding in a corner, glaring at anyone who talks too loud.”

“Probably,” Y/N muttered, her heart fluttering as she got out of the car. She grabbed her bag and adjusted her jacket before turning to her friends. “Okay, let’s not embarrass me too much, yeah?”

“No promises,” Harper said with a grin, looping her arm through Y/N’s as they headed toward the gallery entrance.

Inside, the space was even more vibrant. The walls were adorned with bold, eclectic pieces of art—paintings, sculptures, and mixed-media pieces that immediately drew attention. Soft music played in the background, and servers wove through the crowd with trays of wine and hors d’oeuvres. The hum of conversation filled the air, blending with the occasional burst of laughter.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room, searching for Harry. She didn’t spot him right away, but she noticed how carefully curated the space felt—each piece arranged with intention. It was a reflection of him, she realized, meticulous and thoughtful.

“This is amazing,” Harper said, grabbing a glass of wine from a passing server. “He really knows what he’s doing.”

Lila nudged Y/N. “Speaking of, where is Mr. Grumpy Art Dealer? I want to see him in his element.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, glancing around again. “He’s probably—”

Before she could finish, her gaze landed on him. Harry stood near the back of the room, dressed in a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing his tattoos. He was talking to a small group of people, but his eyes flicked toward her as if he could feel her presence.

Their gazes locked for a moment, and he gave her a subtle nod before turning back to his conversation. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt Lila squeeze her arm.

“Oh, he definitely saw you,” Lila said, grinning. “And I’m not imagining the way he looked at you.”

“Stop,” Y/N hissed, her cheeks flushing. But she couldn’t deny it—there was something in his gaze that felt personal, even in the middle of the crowd.

“Go say hi,” Harper urged, giving her a nudge.

“Not yet,” Y/N said, grabbing a glass of wine for herself. “I’ll wait until he’s free. Let’s just look around first.”

As they wandered through the gallery, admiring the artwork, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Harry’s eyes were on her—even when she wasn’t looking his way.

Y/N wandered through the gallery, sipping her wine as she admired the artwork. Each piece was so different—some abstract, others intricate and detailed—but all of them carried a sense of purpose. It was easy to see that Harry had a good eye for curating.

She glanced across the room and saw Harper and Lila chatting animatedly with a group of women, likely bonding over their outfits or the wine. Typical, she thought with a smile, shaking her head.

As she moved to the next painting—a striking piece of layered colors and textures—she felt someone step up beside her. There was a shift in the air, a quiet presence that made her turn her head.

It was Harry.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the painting. His black shirt, with the sleeves still rolled up, contrasted sharply against the warm tones of the art, and his tattoos seemed to blend seamlessly into the aesthetic of the space.

“It’s acrylic and resin,” he said, his voice low but steady. “The artist used palette knives for the texture and then poured resin over it to give it that shine. Took weeks to cure properly.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard for a moment before she found her words. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, turning her attention back to the piece. “I love the depth in it. It feels like you could reach in and get lost.”

Harry glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “That’s the idea. The artist wanted it to feel immersive, like stepping into an emotional landscape.”

She looked at him, her curiosity piqued. “Do you know all the details of every piece in here?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted, his smirk growing. “Part of the job. I like to understand the process—it helps me connect with the artists and explain it to people who come through.”

Y/N smiled, sipping her wine. “It’s impressive. You’ve created something really special here.”

Harry looked at her again, his green eyes studying her for a moment. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “It means a lot, coming from you.”

She tilted her head, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “Why me?”

He shrugged slightly, his gaze flicking back to the painting. “Because you actually look at the art. Most people just see it, but you’re trying to understand it.”

Her cheeks warmed at the unexpected compliment, and she turned back to the painting to hide her flustered expression. “Well, you make it hard not to appreciate it. The way you talk about it… it’s obvious how much you care.”

He didn’t respond right away, and the silence between them felt comfortable, almost intimate. Finally, he leaned in just slightly, his voice softer now.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

Y/N turned to look at him again, her heart skipping a beat at the closeness between them. “Me too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the bustling crowd around them faded into the background, leaving just the two of them standing there, the art surrounding them as if it were part of their story.

Harry slipped his hand into Y/N’s, his fingers warm and steady as he gently tugged her through the gallery. She followed without question, her curiosity mounting as they weaved between groups of people. He didn’t say a word, just led her down a quieter section of the space where fewer people were lingering.

When they stopped, Y/N noticed the piece in front of them was a painting—bold yet delicate, with strokes that somehow conveyed both strength and softness. She tilted her head, studying it, drawn to the way the light and shadows played across the figure in the painting. There was something familiar about it, something that tugged at her memory.

She took a step closer, her heart beating faster as the realization slowly dawned on her. The painting wasn’t just beautiful—it was her.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned to Harry, her eyes wide. “Is this…?”

He nodded, his gaze steady but unreadable. “It’s you.”

Y/N stared at the painting again, her mind racing. The details were unmistakable—the way her hair fell, the soft curve of her face, the hint of a thoughtful expression she’d never realized she wore. But it wasn’t just her likeness; it was the way the he had captured something deeper, something vulnerable and raw.

“How?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “I started it a few weeks after I moved in. I didn’t even know your name then. I just… saw you.”

Her chest tightened as she turned to him again. “You saw me?”

He nodded, his green eyes softer now. “In the mailroom. In the hallway. On your balcony once, drinking coffee. I didn’t know why, but there was something about you that I couldn’t get out of my head. So, I painted.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, a mix of emotions swirling inside her—flattery, disbelief, and something she couldn’t quite name. “Harry, this is… incredible. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I just thought you should see it. This is the first time I’ve shown it to anyone.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she took a step closer to him, her voice soft. “Why me?”

Harry’s gaze locked on hers, his expression open and sincere. “Because it’s you, Y/N. I couldn’t have painted this if it wasn’t.”

The noise of the gallery faded around them as she stood there, her hand still in his, staring up at the painting of herself. For the first time, she saw herself through someone else’s eyes—not as the loud, chaotic neighbor, but as something worthy of being captured in art.

And Harry, the grumpy, mysterious neighbor, was the one who had done it.

556 notes · View notes

4linos · 3 days ago

Text

they call you clingy pt. 2

ot8 x fem!reader

genre: slight angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. (mostly) happy endings.

wc: 8916

(read they call you clingy pt. 1 first)

bang chan

When Chan returned home later that night, he was overwhelmed with guilt. He expected to be greeted with a warm embrace, maybe even a soft joke about how awkward he had been earlier. But when he entered your shared bedroom, he was greeted with silence. The lights were dark, and you sat on the edge of the bed, back to him. "Y/N?" He called out quietly, almost pleading.

You did not respond.

Chan's heart fell as he got closer, but you flinched when you felt him behind you. He stood there for a while, unsure of what to do, before finally speaking, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I said. It was a terrible joke. Please… please look at me.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough for him to see the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were red and swollen, and your expression was tight, like you were holding everything in. The sight broke him, and he stepped forward, kneeling in front of you, trying to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I was frustrated, and I let it all out in the worst way. I’m so sorry, I should’ve never said that. You’re not clingy. I don’t think that at all. I was wrong. I never should’ve made you feel that way.”

You shook your head slowly, your voice cold. “No, you meant it. I heard the way you said it. You don’t want me around. You think I’m suffocating you.”

“I don’t,” Chan whispered urgently, his hands reaching out to touch yours, but you pulled them away. “I don’t think that. I swear. I don’t want you to think that at all. I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

But you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to believe him, but the words still stung too much. The way he had looked at you with indifference, how he dismissed your presence like it was something burdensome. It wasn’t just the words it was the way it made you feel so small, like you weren’t wanted.

You stood up suddenly, avoiding his touch. “I just need some space, Chan. Please. Just leave me alone tonight.”

Chan flinched, but he didn’t argue. He nodded, his heart breaking as he quietly walked out of the room. He knew he had crossed a line, and the weight of that reality hit him hard. He didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning on the couch, feeling the distance between you both like a wall that couldn’t be scaled.

The next morning, Chan woke up early, with his mind still filled with guilt. He'd apologized the night before, but he knew it wasn't enough. He needed to express how sorry he was and how much he cared. He crept quietly into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast, hoping to get it right for once. When the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the apartment, he returned to your bedroom, gently knocked on the door before opening it slightly.

You sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window. Your back was still turned to him, but when you heard him enter, you had stayed still.

Chan took a deep breath, his voice soft. “I made breakfast… for us. Please, can we just eat together? I want to talk.”

You didn't say anything at first, but eventually nodded and stood up, following him into the kitchen. You both sat silently, the tension hanging between you like a cloud. Chan pushed the dish of pancakes toward you, his hands shaking slightly. He took a breath and spoke again, his voice full of earnestness.

"You were not clinging, Y/N. I was wrong. You aren't suffocating me. I adore having you around; I always do. I… I'm not sure why I said that. My frustration clouded my judgment, and I hurt you. I'm really sorry."

You didn’t answer right away, but the tightness in your chest slowly loosened. You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

You sighed softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “It just hurt, Chan. I… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You’re never a burden,” he said quietly. “You’re my partner. I want you to be with me. Always. You nodded, the words finally sinking in. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “No, I deserve it. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you both ate in silence, the unspoken understanding between you filling the room with a quiet comfort. The hurt was still there, but you knew you could heal it together.

lee know

The warmth from the burns on your leg persisted, but the coldness in your chest stung the most. You sat on the edge of the bed, carefully placing a cold compress against your skin, hoping that the discomfort sting would ease.

Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what had just transpired in the kitchen. Minho, your Minho, had yelled at you, and the words cut worse than anything physical could. You couldn't understand how it had come to this.

You had tried so hard to help, to lighten his burden, but instead you had made matters worse. The kitchen was a wreck, your leg was on fire, and your heart felt like it had been ripped open by the very person who had always made you feel safe. You wanted to believe it was just a moment of frustration, something that could be forgiven, but the distance between you both felt insurmountable.

When Minho’s voice called from the living room, it felt like the world’s weight pressed on your chest. “Hey... can we talk?" He sounded tired, but there was an undertone of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen.

You didn’t respond, hoping the silence would send the message you weren’t ready to face him just yet. But moments later, the sound of his footsteps in the hall brought you back to reality, and before you could register, he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom.

His expression shifted from confusion to panic when he saw you sitting there, the cold compress against your leg, and your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened, a rush of guilt flooding over him.

"What... what happened?" His voice was quieter and more uncertain now. He took a step forward, peering down at the reddening skin on your leg. "I—oh God, did you burn yourself?" His eyes scanned yours for a response, his hand quivering slightly as he reached out to touch your leg. You didn't say anything. You couldn’t find the words. The burn hurt badly, but the heaviness of his words in the kitchen made it intolerable.

Minho's hands shook as he gently led you to lie down on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His voice cracked slightly as he rubbed a cool cloth on the burns, the chill alleviating the sting slightly.

You finally let yourself to cry, tears rocking your chest and the emotional weight coming down on you. You didn't understand how much you were holding back until the tears started pouring freely. "I-I'm sorry for the soup," you said through sobbing. "I didn't mean to ruin everything. "I just... wanted to help."

Minho's face softened, expressing regret and disbelief. He wiped your tears away with his thumb, his voice barely audible. "Stop. I don't care about the soup. Not when you're hurt. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

His words felt like a balm to your wounded heart, but they didn’t erase the ache. You buried your face in his chest as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You don’t deserve that... you never deserve that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten even more. You clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, needing his warmth, his presence. “Minho... I just—everything went wrong today. And then you... you made me feel like I was a burden.” Your voice trembled, and the weight of your emotions finally broke free.

Minho’s arms tightened around you as he whispered into your hair, “I never meant to make you feel that way. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. But you are not a burden. You never will be. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You could feel his hands softly comb through your hair, comforting you as you kept crying into him. The tears weren't simply over the soup, the burn, or the day's failures. It was all about trying to keep things together, to be strong, and not show how overwhelmed you were. And everything came tumbling down in his arms. "I should have been there for you today." "I should have seen how much you were struggling," Minho said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm not upset at you. I should never have said that. I'm so sorry."

You nodded into his chest, the tears slowly subsiding as his comforting words washed over you. Despite everything, despite the mess and the hurt, there was still love between you two, even if it was lost in the chaos for a moment.

“I love you,” Minho whispered, his hand gently wiping away the last of your tears. “Please, forgive me.”

You pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. There was nothing but tenderness there now, no trace of the frustration that had clouded his expression before. “I love you too,” you said, your voice still shaky, but steadying. “I know you didn’t mean it. I just... I just had such a bad day. Everything went wrong, and I was just trying to fix it... and I ended up making it worse.”

Minho kissed your forehead again, his lips lingering for a moment. “You don’t have to fix everything. You don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me help you.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief settle over you as his arms wrapped around you again. “I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, hugging him tighter. “I just... I wanted to help you. To make it better. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

“I know,” Minho whispered back. “And you didn’t make it worse. I promise.”

As the silence between you two grew, the storm within you began to calm. It wasn't entirely mended yet, but for the first time that day, you felt like you weren't going through it alone. You felt at ease in his embrace, and you gradually began to hope that things can get better again.

changbin

Changbin's breath came out in weak, raspy gasps as he stood there watching you walk away. Every instinct in his body shouted for him to go after you, to draw you back and explain himself, but something in the air held him still. The severity of his own words resonated in his thoughts, a jarring reminder of the damage he had just done. You were hurt. And now, so was he.

He watched as your form disappeared through the exit, the door closing softly behind you. The gym suddenly felt suffocating. The weight of his own anger and frustration, which he had not yet fully comprehended, seemed to settle in his chest like a stone. He turned over, and his face flushed, his head dizzy with regret. He never wanted to make you feel like this, never wanted you to feel like a burden. His mind was spinning with confusion, but one thing was painfully clear: he had messed up. Badly.

He stood there for a long time, eyes fixed on the door, as if begging you to return, but he knew it was pointless. He had said too much. The damage was done.

You'd never felt smaller than you did at that time. Changbin's words felt like a hefty blow to the chest, knocking the air out of you. You weren't expecting him to snap. Sure, he'd been distant before, but this was different. The sharpness in his voice, the way he stared at you with irritation and anger, hurt in ways you couldn't articulate.

You didn’t know how long you had been walking for when you found yourself in the parking lot, your car now looming in front of you like a silent reminder of what had just transpired. You stood there for a moment, your hands trembling as you fumbled to unlock the door. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the chill in your chest felt much worse.

Why was he so angry?

You understood that sometimes people needed space, but you had no idea that your presence, which you expected to bring you closer, would make him feel overwhelmed. The realization hit you hard: He had been letting you to follow him about because he didn't know how to express his need for space. And, in the end, when he exploded, it broke the fragile link you had formed with him.

Your eyes stung with the promise of tears, but you pushed them away. You weren't sure if you were ready to let them fall yet.

You got in the car and drove aimlessly at first, wanting to get away and clear your mind. The drive seemed to go on forever, but you couldn't escape the agony in your chest. You eventually pulled over onto a quiet street and parked. You allowed the silence to settle in, the only sound being the faint hum of your car's engine.

Your phone buzzed, and you looked at it nervously. It was a message from Changbin. Your finger hovered over the screen, unsure whether to open it or not. But the yearning for an explanation, some attempt to make sense of it all, was overwhelming. So you opened it.

Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. Can we please talk?

You bit your lip, your eyes scanning the words over and over. His apology felt sincere, but it didn’t erase the sting of what he had said. How could it? And yet, a part of you still wanted to hear him out, to understand where he was coming from, even if it hurt.

You debated texting him back. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to hold onto the distance you felt was needed right now. Another part wanted to reach out, to explain that you weren’t trying to smother him, that you just wanted to be close.

Instead of responding, you did the one thing you never thought you’d do: you called him.

The phone rang a few times before he answered. “Y/N?” His voice was soft, hesitant, almost nervous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Can we talk?”

A long silence passed. You could hear him take a deep breath on the other end. “Yeah. I think we need to.”

Back at the gym, Changbin had barely managed to collect himself before his phone buzzed in his hand. When he saw your name on the screen, he almost couldn’t believe it. He had messed up so badly, and yet, you were still willing to talk to him. His heart beat faster as he swiped to answer, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

“Y/N?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t imagining this.

“I… I’m still upset, Bin,” you said, your voice shaky. “I don’t know what to think. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was invading your space. I just… I wanted to be close to you.”

“I know,” he whispered, guilt flooding his chest. “I should’ve told you sooner. It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel like that… like I’m pushing you away. But I just… the gym was the one place where I could just be by myself, clear my head. And when I didn’t have that anymore… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you’d like it. That maybe it would be something we could do together.”

“I do like spending time with you,” he said, his voice steady now, more sincere. “I really do. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking it out on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m sorry for how I said it. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You’re not a burden to me, Y/N. You’re the last person I want to hurt.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “I just wanted to be close to you. I didn’t realize I was making you feel suffocated.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I know. And I should’ve communicated better. I just didn’t know how.”

“I understand,” you replied softly. “I just… I need a little time. To process this.”

Changbin’s heart sank, but he understood. “Yeah. I get that. Take the time you need. But please know I’m here. I don’t want to lose you over something that should’ve been a misunderstanding.”

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t fixed, not yet, but you could feel the tension easing a little, the sharp edges of the pain starting to soften.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk more when I’m ready.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Changbin replied, his voice full of warmth despite the distance between you. “I’ll be here.”

The call ended, leaving a quiet, uneasy space between you two. You were unsure where this would lead or what would happen next. But perhaps, just maybe, you can find your way back together.

hyunjin

The next morning, you woke to a cloud of confusion still hanging over you. Hyunjin's remark from last night, as well as the way he pushed you away, played on an unending loop in your memory. The hurt was still fresh, but you were beginning to wonder why. Why had everything changed so dramatically? Why had Hyunjin, who you had always trusted, suddenly become distant?

You'd barely slept, your mind knotted in a web of despair, confusion, and betrayal. Everything seemed odd as you tried to get through the day. The calm hum of your daily routine had been replaced by a heavy silence in your chest. Your phone remained silent, and you weren't sure if that was a relief or something else entirely. You couldn’t decide whether to hope Hyunjin would reach out to explain himself or whether it was better to just forget it all.

But then, in the late afternoon, your phone buzzed. It was a text from him.

Hyunjin: Can we talk? I need to explain.

Your stomach twisted, both nervous and cautious. You stared at the message, weighing the possibility of opening the door to this conversation. You didn’t know if you were ready to hear whatever he had to say. Still, part of you needed answers, even if they were painful.

After a few moments of hesitation, you typed back.

You: Where?

Hyunjin: Meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Please.

You took a deep breath and, despite everything, found yourself getting ready to meet him. Part of you was angry, but there was another part, the part that still missed him, that needed to understand. You had always believed in the strength of your friendship. You didn’t want to just throw that away without knowing what had really happened.

When you arrived at the park, the air felt cool against your skin, and the trees around you swayed gently in the breeze. The park was quiet, mostly empty, with only a few scattered joggers. You found him near a bench, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his posture tense. He stood as soon as he saw you, but neither of you moved closer at first. There was an awkwardness between you two that felt thick enough to cut.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice almost faltering. "You wanted to talk?"

He nodded but didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, staring at you as if he wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice low and unsure. "I know I hurt you last night, and I—I need you to know that wasn’t my intention. I’ve been… I’ve been a mess, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.”

You furrowed your brows, the confusion growing. “Feelings? What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin seemed to hesitate, as if he was unsure whether to voice the words out. But after a moment, he added, his voice breaking slightly: "I—I like you. More than just a friend. I had for a while, but I wasn't sure how to deal with it. So I tried pushing you away. I figured if I detached myself from you, it would go away. That I could let go of these feelings."

The words struck you like a thunderclap. For a while, you just stood there, your mind spinning, trying to make sense of what he had just revealed. Hyunjin... liked you? Was it why he had been so distant? All the time you'd spent wondering what had changed, what had gone wrong… it was this?

He looked at you, his eyes full of vulnerability, guilt, and something else that you couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I thought… if I pushed you away, I could just forget. But the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got. And last night, I just… I didn’t know how to act around you anymore. So I lashed out. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stood there, silently absorbing his words. The knot in your chest relaxed, but it was replaced by something else: a rush of feelings you couldn't quite describe.

You had no idea how to handle this revelation. You had been wondering what had happened to your friendship, why things seemed so tense, and now it all made sense. But it was overwhelming. You never saw it coming.

"I don't know what to say," you confessed gently. "I did not..." I didn't realize you felt that way. All I saw was you slipping away, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. I didn't realize it was about this."

“I should have told you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I was so afraid of ruining everything, of losing our friendship. But instead, I ended up pushing you away. I thought if I could stop being close to you, I could stop feeling this way. I was wrong."

You felt a mixture of emotions rise up relief, anger, sadness, confusion. But beneath it all, there was something else: you understood now. He had been trying to protect himself, even if it meant hurting you in the process. It didn’t make his actions right, but it made them a little easier to comprehend.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice softer than before.

Hyunjin took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were immediately. I don’t know how to fix this. But I want to try. I want to be honest with you now. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I couldn’t keep pretending anymore. I couldn’t let you think you didn’t matter."

You paused for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you still felt hurt, but another part of you your heart, maybe was softening. You had always cared about him. The idea of more than just friendship… it was a lot to process, but you realized that in some way, you were willing to listen, to figure out what this meant for the two of you.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “But I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care. I do. I care a lot. We just need time. To figure this out.”

Hyunjin nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet hope. “I’ll give you time. I won’t push you. I just needed to say it. To be honest.”

The two of you stood there for a while, neither of you moving, but there was a shift a change in the air. For the first time in weeks, it felt like there might be a way forward. Maybe it wasn’t simple, maybe it wasn’t easy, but at least you had the truth. And that, you realized, was enough to begin again.

HAN

The silence lingered for what seemed like hours, the kind of silence that enveloped you both like a thick cloud. You hadn't moved, still curled on the bed, eyes locked on the wall, as if it might give some answers. You couldn't get the idea that something inside of him had permanently shifted, that whatever had cracked tonight had been building up for a time and was now beyond your control.

Jisung said nothing, did not try to pull you closer, nor did he give his usual soothing words of regret. But he had not left either. His presence next to you, despite its normal comfort, suddenly felt like a distant recollection, a piece of him that had vanished.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard him shift on the bed beside you. His voice was barely a whisper, but you could tell he was struggling, his words thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the weight of the apology, like he had been holding it back for so long it had become a raw, painful thing.

You stayed silent, not sure what to say. He had hurt you, and though you wanted to forgive him, you couldn’t shake the sting of his words. His harshness had cut deeper than anything he’d said before, and you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion of the day, or something more, something that had been building up between you two for a while.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N,” he continued, his voice shaky, as if the apology itself had become difficult to express. “I’m just… I’m just tired. I don’t know how to deal with everything. But that doesn’t excuse how I snapped at you. You don’t deserve that. You never do.”

You eventually allowed yourself to turn towards him, your gaze scanning his face, and you saw the weakness there, the same vulnerability you had always seen beneath his normal confidence. His fists were clasped in his lap, and his shoulders bowed, as if he were bracing for the impending storm.

"You are not a burden, Y/N." "You're not clingy," he continued quietly, his voice much lower now, as if the apology was gradually peeling away the layers of irritation and hurt. "I just.. I'm not always sure how to let you in. I am so overwhelmed that instead of accepting your help, I push you away."

Your heart squeezed. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was battling with himself, trying to figure out how to make it right without knowing how.

“I’ve been so used to dealing with everything on my own,” he continued, looking at the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems. I didn’t want you to see me as weak. But instead, I ended up hurting you.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and it took everything in you not to reach out and wrap your arms around him. You knew he had been struggling, you knew it. But hearing him admit that he had been keeping things from you, afraid of showing his true self, only made the ache in your chest grow.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I think you're strong. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself, Jisung. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

He shook his head, eventually meeting your eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness, but there was also a quiet desperation in them, as if he didn't know how to mend the rift between you two.

“I just... I'm so sorry. I don't know how to ask for help," he said, his voice full with sorrow. "But when you try to help me, I... I push you away because I'm not sure how to let you in. But you aren't a burden, Y/N. You have never been one. I just didn't know how to handle anything on my own, so I ended up pushing you away when all you wanted was to be there for me."

The honesty in his words was almost too much to bear. You had always known Jisung to be someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, someone who could make light of even the darkest situations. But now, seeing him like this, so raw and open, made your chest tighten.

“I don’t want you to push me away anymore,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to help you. But I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out.”

Jisung's lips twitched, as if he wanted to say more but couldn't find the right words. Instead, he simply nodded, the impact of his quiet screaming loudly. He didn't need to say anything else because you could feel the pain in his chest and all the frustration he'd been carrying around for too long.

For a long time, the two of you merely sat there, your quiet now distinct. It wasn't the crushing stillness of earlier, but one filled with empathy, even if neither of you understood exactly how to mend anything.

After a while, Jisung reached out, his hand hesitating before softly stroking your arm. The warmth of his fingers across your skin brought back memories of how simple things had been between you two. He didn't say anything unnecessary, but you could sense his apology in the way he held his hand there, letting you know he was sincerely sorry.

"I'll try to do better," he answered simply and softly. "I will try to let you in more. I do not want to push you away anymore."

You nodded, your heart still heavy but not as broken as it had been moments ago. “I just want to be there for you, Jisung,” you said softly. “I don’t want you to have to go through everything alone.”

The quiet stretched again, but this time, it felt different. It felt like a beginning. Neither of you knew how to fix everything right away, but you both knew that you wanted to try. And sometimes, that was enough.

Jisung shifted closer, his hand still resting on your arm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so distant from each other. There were still things left unsaid, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to try again.

felix

The hours passed by in agonizing silence, the kind that made everything seem more impossible than it actually was and stretched and clawed at your thoughts. Nothing could take away the icy emptiness that had descended between you and Felix, even as you lay there, wrapped up inside yourself, listening to the gentle buzz of the night.

When the world got too much, he would wrap up with you and reassure you with soft touches and quiet words. You recalled the warmth you had previously enjoyed. Now, it felt like a lifetime ago. His distance was more than just physical; it was something that made your chest hurt since you didn't know how to make it better.

But as much as you wanted to lie there, to let the hurt consume you, you couldn't. You couldn't just wait and wonder if things would somehow improve on their own. You were the kind of person who needed closure, who needed to understand what was happening. And right now, Felix was slipping through your fingers, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

You sat up, wiping at your tear-streaked face, and glanced towards the living room. The faint glow from the TV still flickered through the hallway, casting a cold light on the darkness of the apartment. You could feel the weight of the choice pressing down on you: Should you leave him be, give him the space he seemed to want, or should you push through, confront him, and demand answers?

You hesitated for quite some time. But then you made a decision. You needed answers. You needed to understand why the person you loved had abruptly shifted into someone you didn't recognize. You moved along the hallway, the apartment's silence more oppressive than before.

Felix kept his position on the couch, his eyes looking blankly at the TV, his posture tight and walled off. You stayed there for a moment, studying him, trying to determine whether he noticed your presence.

His eyes didn’t leave the screen. His face remained unreadable.

"Felix," you said again, your voice steady but laced with emotion. This time, there was no hesitation in your tone, no softness. You needed him to hear you.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel the tension in the room shift slightly, as if he knew you were waiting for him to say something. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter than before.

“I told you I don’t want to talk,” he said, almost in a whisper. But this time, the words weren’t as sharp. There was something else in his voice, something you hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t anger, but a deep exhaustion, a weariness that seemed to go beyond just physical fatigue.

You didn’t take a step back this time. Instead, you closed the distance between you, sitting on the arm of the couch, your hand brushing lightly against his. It was small, a gesture that once would have meant nothing, but now it felt like everything. You needed him to know you were still here, that you hadn’t given up.

“Felix,” you repeated, softer this time, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “I know something’s bothering you. And I get it. You don’t have to talk right now, if you’re not ready. But I need to know—am I the problem?”

When you asked the question, his head snapped towards you, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he had never considered it before. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, and you thought you caught a glimpse of the old Felix, the one who used to share everything with you, the one who would always turn to you when the world got too much.

"Of course not," he said gently, his voice husky. He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his palms before running them through his hair. "You aren't the problem. "I just...I’m a mess right now, okay? I did not mean to push you away. I didn't know how to deal with it, and I thought if I could draw back, maybe it would get better.”

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in what felt like days, you understood. Felix had always been the strong one, the person who seemed so capable of handling everything on his own. But now you saw how much he was struggling beneath the surface, how much he had been hiding.

"You don’t have to carry it all alone," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Felix, we’ve always been a team. You can lean on me. You don’t have to push me away just because you’re having a hard time."

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze flickering to the floor, then back up to you. The tension in his shoulders finally seemed to ease, and he let out a long breath. It was as though a weight was slowly lifting, and for the first time in days, you saw a glimpse of the Felix you had known and loved.

“I’m scared,” he admitted softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m scared of being a burden. I’m scared that if I show you how much I’m struggling, you’ll leave. I’m scared you won’t love me if I’m not always the one who has everything together.”

The rawness of his confession hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you just sat there, your heart aching for him. You had always known Felix to be strong, but in this moment, you realized just how vulnerable he was beneath it all, and how much he had been carrying alone.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Felix,” you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “I love you, all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”

Felix finally looked at you, his eyes wide, his expression almost disbelieving. The walls that had been built up around him seemed to crack ever so slightly, and you could see the relief in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his grip tightening around your fingers. “I’ve been pushing you away for no reason. I was just so scared.”

You shook your head gently, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, Felix. You don’t have to be scared. We’ll get through this together.”

For a minute, you just stood there, the two of you having an unsaid understanding. There was still a lot to sort out, and the path ahead would be difficult, but you knew that if you were both ready to try, you could do it.

As Felix drew in closer, resting his forehead against yours, you felt the warmth of his presence return, as well as the relief that you hadn't lost him despite everything. Not yet.

And for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe that things could be better.

seungmin

The morning light filtered softly through the kitchen windows, casting a dull glow over the room. Seungmin walked in, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he poured himself a cup of coffee, his mind still half-occupied by the rehearsals and everything waiting for him outside the walls of this apartment. But as he sat down at the breakfast table, he was immediately hit with an unexpected shift in the air.

There was no cheerful greeting from you, no attempt to share a quiet moment together before the day began. Instead, you sat across from him, silently eating your breakfast, your gaze fixed on the plate in front of you. Usually, you’d be making something small, even if it was just a quick toast or coffee, a gesture that made mornings feel connected. But today, the stillness felt suffocating.

Seungmin frowned, the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He didn’t quite understand why you weren’t speaking, but he knew something wasn’t right. He set his cup down, meeting your eyes for the briefest of moments before his voice broke through the quiet.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone a bit strained, not sure if he was even ready to hear the answer.

You did not respond immediately away, keeping your gaze fixed on your food and your jaw tight as if the words you wanted to say were locked between your teeth. But they didn't come, and your silence spoke louder than any argument. Seungmin waited, his patience dwindling as time passed.

Finally, you scoffed, making a little but harsh sound that seemed to cut through the air, and you stood up from the table, pushing your chair back with an audible scrape.

"I don’t know, Seungmin," you shot back, your voice tinged with frustration, barely holding back the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I don’t matter to you."

He blinked, taken aback by the intensity of your words. Before he could respond, you stormed off, the door to the bedroom slamming shut behind you with a force that rattled the still air. Seungmin sat there, the taste of the bitter coffee suddenly unfamiliar in his mouth, his mind spinning. He hadn’t expected this. Not after everything that had happened last night.

The rest of the day felt like a blur. He went through the motions work, meetings, rehearsals but your words lingered in his mind, a constant hum of unease. By the time he returned home that evening, the tension was unbearable. He hesitated by the front door, unsure of what to expect. Normally, he would have found you sitting on the couch, or you would have greeted him with a small smile, asking about his day. But tonight, there was only silence.

He walked into the apartment, his footsteps faltering slightly as he noticed you in the corner of the living room, avoiding his gaze completely. You sat curled up on the couch, eyes fixed on the television but not really seeing anything at all. He stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you, and the hollow feeling in his chest deepened.

"Can we talk?" he asked carefully, his voice laced with concern. His eyes searched yours for any sign that you were ready to listen.

You didn't respond immediately, your body rigid and remote. His heart fell as he saw the look on your face, as if a part of you had closed off, trapped behind a door he couldn't open. "Please," he said, getting closer. "I don't know what's going on, but..." "I can't fix this unless you tell me."

You snapped your head up, your eyes burning with a mix of pain and frustration. Your voice was more emotional than usual. "You don't get it, do you, Seungmin?" You stood up abruptly, raising your voice with each word. "I have tried. I've been trying for days to get you to come see me and realize that something is wrong! But all you have done is brush me off, make me feel like I’m too much for you, like I’m just… clingy."

His eyes widened in realization, the words you had uttered earlier in the morning returning to him with a crushing force. He had no idea it had gotten this bad, nor did he realize how much his words had hurt you until now. And it stung when the weight of his own stupidity fell on him. You carried on, your voice cracking as you talked.

"You've been really distant, Seungmin. And when I try to talk to you or look for your attention, you just push me away. You make me feel as though I am a burden. And I can't keep pretending that I don't feel it.”

Seungmin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stood there, completely stunned, his chest tightening with regret. He had been so wrapped up in his own stress and exhaustion, so focused on his own battles, that he hadn’t realized how far apart you had grown, how much pain you had been quietly carrying.

He swallowed hard, stepping closer, his voice small now, barely a whisper. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I… I didn’t realize how much my actions were hurting you."

But your anger had already started to bubble back up. You shook your head, arms crossed tightly against your chest. "How could you not realize, Seungmin? How could you not see how much I’m struggling with this? I needed you, but you’ve been so… so cold." You paused, your breath shallow. "I needed you to care. To see me."

The words stung like salt in an open wound, but Seungmin couldn’t deny the truth in them. His heart clenched, and without thinking, he moved toward you, pulling you into his arms before you could step away.

"I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible, or like you were too much. I’ve been so caught up in everything that I forgot to see you, to notice what I was doing to us." He held you tighter, his grip desperate now, like he was trying to hold onto something he feared was slipping away. "Please forgive me. I don’t want to lose you."

Your body trembled against him, but for the first time in what felt like ages, you didn’t pull away. You rested your forehead against his chest, letting out a shaky breath, your emotions swirling but slowly softening under his touch.

"I just need you to be present, Seungmin," you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. "I need to know that you’re here with me. That I matter to you."

"I hear you," he whispered softly, gently touching your face and lifting your head to meet his gaze. His embrace was raw and vulnerable in a way you had not seen before. "I hear you, and I promise to do better." I will make you feel seen. I will make sure you understand how much you mean to me."

You nodded softly, your heart aching but glad for his genuine remarks. The path to healing would take time, but for the first time in a long time, you felt confident that he would accompany you on it.

I.N

The next day, Jeongin arrived at your apartment, his normal bright smile on his face as he walked through the door. It was as if yesterday had never happened. His aura was light and carefree, as if he hadn't just disrupted the peace you had previously enjoyed in your relationship.

You, on the other hand, were still reeling from his cold demeanor the night before. The hurt persisted, and you couldn't shake the weight of his words. Stop being so clingy. It wasn't the first time someone had made you feel small, but it hurt more than you expected, especially coming from him.

You didn't answer as usual, and you didn't greet him with the warmth he had grown to expect. Instead, you kept your distance by giving him short, clipped answers. You preoccupied yourself with little things in the apartment, refusing to make eye contact in the hopes that the stillness would bridge the gap between you. The tension in the room, however, was palpable.

Jeongin didn't seem to notice right away. He went about his usual business, jokingly discussing his day and laughing as if everything was alright. When he reached for your hand, you automatically pushed it away, indicating that something was wrong. His smile faltered, and the warmth in his eyes was gradually replaced by confusion.

"Hey," he said, voice soft, the smile still not fully gone but now laced with a hint of concern. "What's wrong?"

You looked up at him, saw the real confusion in his eyes, and almost let it go. Almost let go of your pain for his smile, for the Jeongin you adored. But the words you'd been keeping in all day sprang to the surface. "What was that yesterday?" You snapped, your voice filled with emotion. The anger, hurt, and confusion you'd been harboring all night had finally bubbled over. "You were an entirely different person. One minute you were fine the next you were pushing me away, telling me I was too clingy. What was that?"

Jeongin blinked, taken aback by your strong tone, his eyes wide as if he had not expected such an outburst. His posture tensed, and for a brief period, you could see the walls he had built to protect himself from whatever discomfort was brewing inside. But that didn't erase the fact that his actions had harmed you more than he knew.

"If you want to act like that, maybe we should just break up," you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, a mix of hurt and frustration in your voice. "I don't want to be with someone who suddenly treats me like I'm a burden just because they're worried about what others think.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jeongin’s expression faltered, his brows furrowing as if the idea of you breaking up was the last thing he expected. His eyes softened slightly, and his voice became almost breathless as he spoke, not quite believing what you’d just said.

“Wait… what?” His voice wavered, the hurt in his eyes clear now. "No, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

You crossed your arms, feeling the burn of frustration building again. You needed answers. “Then what was it, Jeongin? Why did you act like that? I thought we were fine, but now… now I don’t know where I stand with you.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands running through his hair as he paced for a moment, clearly struggling to find the right words. After a beat of silence, he stopped in front of you, meeting your eyes, this time with a vulnerability that was both unexpected and painfully familiar.

“I… I love you," he began, his voice steady but filled with an edge of fear. "I love you so much, but I was afraid… I was afraid that if we showed too much PDA, the members would tease me relentlessly. They’re always joking about stuff like that, and I didn’t want them to make fun of me, of us."

The explanation hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, stunned. Was this actually the reason? Was he so concerned about what his members thought that he distanced himself from you, his girlfriend, in front of them? You struggled to wrap your head around it.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" The question fell out of your mouth before you could think. The thought of it twisted something inside you, the possibility that he might consider you as something to hide rather than something to be proud of.

Jeongin’s face immediately morphed into one of panic, as if the very suggestion cut him deeper than anything you could have said. “No! God, no. I would never—” He stepped forward, his hands reaching for you, but you instinctively took a small step back. He stopped, his hands falling to his sides, the hurt in his eyes obvious now.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his confession hanging between you two. "I never meant for you to feel like that. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want the members to think I was soft or that I couldn’t keep my cool. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m sorry for pushing you away, for making you feel like I didn’t care about you."

His words were a mix of regret and sincerity, and as he spoke, you could feel the depth of his struggle, the dread of being judged and ridiculed that kept him from completely being himself with you. It wasn't that he didn't love you; it was just that he hadn't understood how to balance his feelings with the demands of his life.

You stood there, silent for a moment, contemplating what he had just said. Your heart was still raw, but you could see remorse in his eyes and feel it in the way he stood, as if he was waiting for you to decide what to do next.

Finally, you spoke, your voice quieter than before, but the hurt remained beneath the surface. "I don't care what others say, Jeongin. I care about us. I want to be able to express my love for you without having to worry about what others might say."

He nodded quickly, his stare focused, and took a slight step toward you. "I promise I won't do it again. I will never make you feel that you are too much, or that I am embarrassed by you. You are more than just someone I care about; you are someone I am proud of. And I will do better. I will."

You held onto his gaze, seeing the honesty in his eyes and sensing the truth in his words. It was not a simple fix. There was work to be done and trust to be rebuilt, but you could tell right away that he was eager to give it his all.

"I just need you to be honest with me," you muttered, feeling the tension between you begin to ease. "That's all I want."

Jeongin's expression softened as he made one final step forward, closing the gap between you. His hands met yours, and his contact was warm and grounded. "I'm here. I'm actually here. And I will make sure you never feel that way again."

(❌ proofread)

masterlist.

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no-144444 · 2 days ago

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soft launching (hard) -d.riccardo

summary: you and daniel decide it's time the world know about you

pairing: daniel riccardo x fem! illman! mechanic! reader

(for context, kym illman is an f1 photographer from australia)

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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were livid. You wanted to scream, to sob, to shout, everything. It wasn’t fair. You were exhausted, hours and hours of practice, hours and hours of expertise, and yet, Daniel had just crashed the car into the wall. You were usually quite good at turning off the ‘mechanic’ side of you to turn into the ‘girlfriend’ but it was hard today. You’d worked overnight. You’d worked until you were practically falling asleep at the side of the car.

And he crashed it. Again.

You knew it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault.

You kept repeating that in your head. The looks on the faces of the other mechanics were… unwelcoming to say the least. You didn’t want Daniel to see them, or you. You walked on, ready to hide in the bathroom until Daniel got into his room.

Then he saw you. Daniel had a certain way he liked to calm down after races. Shower, relax in bed for an hour with you, then back to the hotel for some food.

You couldn’t do it. You knew you’d blow up on him. You knew you’d freak out.

“Baby-” he started, running up to you and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart stopped. ‘Mechanic’ you, was gone. Replaced whole-heartedly by the need to comfort him and make sure he was alright. Yes, you still felt bad for the other mechanics and yourself, thinking about how you’d have to put it all back together in Milton Keynes. But Daniel needed you.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, holding him close. “You’re alright baby.”

He nodded, his eyes wet with tears. He knew if he’d talk he’d break.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, pulling him into his driver’s room. He shook his head. “Did you get checked out?”

He nodded. You sat him down on the bed.

“It’s alright darling,” you whispered. “It’s Lance’s fucking fault anyway-”

“I don’t want to lose you if I lose this,” he responded bluntly, his hazel eyes filled with tears. “I know I can be better, I just… it feels like a classic case of old dog, new tricks, and I just can’t get the hang of it. If I could just get one shot at the RedBull seat, I know I could do it. I just… it feels like shit battling it out at the back for one point. I used to stand at the top of podiums, and now I’m… this,” he sighed, discouraged.

“You won’t lose me,” you assured him, running your hands through his hair and he leaned his head against your stomach. He loved sitting like this, his head on your stomach as you stood in front of him. “I’m not going to let you go, don’t ever worry about that.”

“I do,” he admitted.

“Then talk to me about it,” you told him, pulling his chin up so he had to look at you. “I am here for you no matter what. Always and forever, Dan.”

“You swear?” he asked.

"I swear."

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ You were there when he got the call. He sobbed for hours. You were both there, just laying in your bed, holding him as he cried. For the first week, it was rough. He barely got up. You helped him. You made him food, made him get up and walk, made him shower. He was grateful to have you there, because he didn’t know what he would’ve done without you. He probably would’ve sulked for months. But you, you brought him out, brought him home, brought him to see Josh and Hailee. You even bought him a hat (his new favourite) that says ‘retired!’. You made him happy again. Yes, there were still down days, and yes, he still looked at his trophies longingly. But he had other things in mind too. He wondered a lot about how you’d look in a wedding dress, or how you’d both look with a baby in your arms. He was finally thinking about the future for once, and he felt like slowing down, for the first time in his life, was just as exciting as going fast.

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Being in F1 when Danny wasn't was hard. He was your boyfriend, and it meant you didn't get to see him all the time anymore. You still adored your job, so you weren't going to quit, just... step back a bit. The season came to an end, you were 7th in the constructors, and off you went skiing with half the grid.

The funny thing about the fact that you were a mechanic, was the fact that your father was one of the main photographers in F1. You'd picked up that skill from him, and you usually jsut took photos of your friends, but to cut costs RedBull had asked you to be their on-track photographer as well, and you'd gained quite the reputation.

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ynillman

liked by pierregasly, jackdoohan, landonorris and 4,987,736 others

ynillman: 2024 is over and done with! I cannot wait to have a regular sleep schedule for three months!

comments

kymillman legendary photos this year! see you at christmas, and enjoy skiing! liked by yourusername

landonorris PLZZ LET US BORROW YOU NEXT YEAR -> ynillman maybe... but even I can't make papaya look good 🤷

lancestroll time to hit the slopes! -> ynillman bro i broke my fucking arm last time wtf -> lancestroll let's hope you break both of them this time! maybe then you won't capture another video of me falling!

oscrapiastri thank u for your service, lily is very happy with our couples photos! -> ynillman anything for lily! so happy for the two of you! -> user89 did we miss something...? ->user829: oscar did say he'd rather get married than get a tattoo...

user88: when's the next yt video queen??? -> ynillman tomorrow!

nicohulkenberg amazing work this year!

olliebearman thanks for the great photos this year!

jackdoohan thank you for making me not chop all my hair off again! (oh, and the photos were cool as well ig) liked by ynillman

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ynillman

liked by pierregasy, charlesleclerc, danielriccardo, and 8,098,364 others

ynillman didn't break an arm this year, only my ego!

comments

user8 lance serving boyfriend in this so hard

user99 hear me out, lance and y/n... -> user7 yes officer, it's this one -> user882 me when i'm clinically insane -> lancestroll prolly not.... -> ynillman please guys I have some standards

oscarpiastri i swear i was so surprised you didn't kill yourself

landonorris you're genuinely a danger to society on a snowboard -> ynillman because of my skills? -> landonorris because you can't fucking use one. I have the bruises to prove it

user83 lando, lance, oscar, and y/n????? what the fuck is this multiverse of madness

user0 still serving with the photos OMG QUEEN

estebanocon remind me to never go skiing with you again -> user82 estie bestie!!!!!!

mickschumacher who tf let her out of her cage? -> jackdoohan you did. you gave her the vodka.

user9: jack, mick, esteban, lance, lando, oscar, and yn? who else??? -> charlesleclerc i was there too -> alexalbon same -> carlosainz same -> francocolapinto me too! -> danielriccardo same... -> user9: and all of their wags were there too! what a cool friend group!

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lilymunihe

liked by alexalbon, ynillman, alexandrastmleux and 890,876 others

lilymunihe guess who took these photos? @.ynillman

comments

landonorris that's actually a normal sized bear in Alex's hands -> alexalbon so you're calling me tall? thanks??? -> landonorris fuck no, i meant a regular sized teddy bear

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ynillman

liked by robertirwin, pierregasly, francocolapinto and 9,987,625 others

ynillman new video out with robbie! (my sleep schedule is still fucked someone save me) (i love australia(ns))

comments

danielriccardo what a group of legends -> ynillman aka you're jealous i didn't invite you? -> user8239 y/ndaniel CRUMBS !!!!!

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danielriccardo

liked by ynillman, francocolapinto, fernandoalonso and 987,253 others

danielriccardo she's looking beautiful these days. missed home :)

comments

user8240 yall know who else is in australia this week... -> user247 i am picking up what you're putting down... delusion!

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danielriccardo

caption: you think she likes the bay?

dms

landornorris SOFT LAUNCH?

oscarpiastri taking the soft launch approach?

alexalbon BOO HARD LAUNCH YOU'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOREVER

lewishamilton mate if you don't hard launch her i'll do it wtf is this bullshit

yukistunoda bro... try harder.

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Daniel had decided something, which was almost always a dangerous idea. It was the off-season, you were in Australia to see the sights, see family, and catch some waves. He'd made his mind up about something days ago, and you'd been trying to figure out what, but he wouldn't budge. He was secretive and giddy, and slightly more childish than usual, so naturally, you started to panic.

That all changed when he brought you down to the beach. There were candles set up everywhere, he was smiling, and you were crying already.

"Y/n, you have made me the happiest man in the past four years," he smiled, despite the way his voice cracked with emotion. "You've been with me through everything. You've held me on the nights I've been my weakest, and championed me on the days I've been my best. I never asked you to love me, but you do it like it's breathing. You make the ups and downs feel like goosebumps on my arm, instead of mountainous waves. You make me smile. You make me laugh. You make me feel so fucking stupid when you start explaining something to do with engineering, and I realise I couldn't do that. The way you dedicate yourself to things is incredible. The way you treat others with kindness and respect even when they don't deserve it, is commendable. I love you with every bone, every nerve, and every cell in my body. I love everything about you, inside and out. I can't wait to get to sit in a front porch someday when we're old and wrinkly, and still get to tell people that you're my wife. So, Y/n, will you marry me?"

You nodded through tears,. pulling him up off one knee and kissing him harshly, only pulling back to look at the ring.

"I love you too," you smiled through tears. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much more," he smiled, elated that you'd said yes. "You saved me."

And that was that. You were were engaged.

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danielriccardo

liked by landonorris, ynillman, liamlawson, and 893,273 others

danielriccardo she was there for me through thick and thin, and she still likes me years later. you swore you wouldn't get rid of me, so i'm here to stay! love you more than anything, my love, my life, my (future) wife!

comments

landonorris HARD LAUNCH

robertirwin So happy for you guys!

oscarpiastri must come and visit you two oldies

maxverstappen man had been stolen... kidding! (not) Very happy for you two! (not).

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navigation for my blog :)

redbull and vcarb masterlist

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megamindsecretlair · 3 days ago

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hey i just need something real nasty between husband and wife with mr.aaron (i say it key and peele😂😂) with some angst before the actual plot🤭

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, beautiful.

Made You Fall For Me

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem and male receiving), PIV, oral (female receiving), Reader is able to be picked up, use of pet names, angst. Mentions of death of a loved one, trauma. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: It had been two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death and Terry still beat himself up over it. Tired of Terry not letting you in, you join him in the shower and show him that he has a life to lead right here and now with you. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog

Word Count: 5,371k

AO3 Link

A/N: Thank you so much for dealing with my hiatus. I'm stronger mentally than I have ever been. Definitely worked on myself and stopped being so hard on myself. The kind asks really helped me find my way back, so have this smutty fic as a giant thank you! Thank you so much for all your continued support! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry sighed as he entered the bedroom. You looked up from your phone to watch your husband.

His tall frame moved fluidly around the space, taking off of his pants and his shirt. It was soaked through having just finished at the gym. He sat on the edge of the bed to fling off his socks and toss it in the knit hamper.

“Hey babe,” you said.

“Hey baby,” Terry sighed.

You stared at the back of his head as his shoulders drooped the longer he sat on the bed. He looked so…dejected. Like someone sucked the air from his tires. You leaned up and let your powder blue throw blanket fall from your shoulders.

This was the second week in a row that your husband was still in this funk. Two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death where it seemed like Terry relived it all over again. It started with a dream, the very moment he ran into the hospital carrying Summer. Hopped up on adrenaline, a bullet in his shoulder, and him looking for the next threat.

Then he would slowly withdraw mentally, checking out of conversations. Floating through the motions of going to work and getting back home. You were worried that he would get into an accident but he was able to operate on auto-pilot, navigating the world just as he normally would.

It was both sad and amazing that he was able to do so. But this wasn’t your husband. This was a guilt ridden man who sometimes realized that he had no family. You were his family, of course, but he had no living blood relative alive. Mike was his one and only connection and that was severed by hate and pride.

“Baby, will you please talk to me?” You asked. You fiddled with the edge of your phone. He wasn’t facing you, but you were still nervous to look at his face. You didn’t know which would be worse. Hearing you and choosing not to speak or not hearing you at all because he was lost somewhere you couldn’t reach?

“I-I’m trying,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. You longed to comfort him, hold him, console him in some way. But every time you reached out, he would stare at you as if he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel you.

You didn’t know how to help him through this. You’ve lost people, sure, but you always had enough family and friends to fall back on. You didn’t know what it was like for him and he was too stubborn to let you take some of his pain.

You moved forward and crawled on the bed towards him. He stiffened as you got closer and you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You held on and placed your hand over his heart. It beat rapidly beneath your fingers and you inwardly sighed in relief. He was still in there. His heart still beat.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about this. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself forever,” you said. You kissed his back and rested your cheek on his skin. He was always so warm, like your own personal fire pit. But due to the sweat, he was cold and clammy.

“I was supposed to protect him. That was my one and only job,” Terry said.

“You were supposed to love him. But what happened was out of your control,” you said.

Terry sighed and stood up, breaking your embrace. He hung his head as he walked to the bathroom. The door closed decisively and you flinched from the harsh sound. The light turned on underneath the doorway. The shower turned on and you didn’t hear anything further.

Some days you wanted to knock your husband’s teeth in. His overprotective instincts went into hyperdrive, past the point of what was healthy. He refused to think of himself and the consequence be damned. Other times, you just wanted to wrap him in a floofy blanket and never let him out of your sight. You couldn’t very well fault him for wanting to keep you safe when you were the exact same way.

But this…it varied on when he’d be able to pull himself out of this. Sometimes you’d say or do something to bring him back. Sometimes he’d take a deep breath and release that dark cloud. And sometimes, he’d disappear for a whole day and return back to the sweet, loving man you married.

But fuck this. You missed your husband. And you were tired of seeing him walk around like a zombie. You got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Steam rushed out and passed over your exposed skin. You closed the door behind you and noted the discarded underwear on the floor and a red towel on the edge of the sink. Terry’s silhouette moved just behind the foggy glass doors.

You quickly stripped, flinging your lavender sleep set to the ground with his briefs. You stuffed your bonnet beneath a shower cap and slid the glass doors back. Terry looked over his shoulder at you and you entered the spacious shower behind him.

The custom shower with tiles painted in different shades of brown was roomy enough for about three people comfortably if they were all intimate. Water cascaded down from a waterfall shower head, pouring down over Terry’s strong body. Water dripped from the edge of his wide nose, his full lips, and his well-defined chest. You followed the trail of water down his belly and over his long, thick dick. Water fell down in his long legs and huge feet.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m taking a shower,” you said. You shoved past him and grabbed your wash cloth, pulling it under the spray of water to get it wet.

Terry huffed. “Had to be now?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. Instead of grabbing your favorite soap, you grabbed his and lathered up the wash cloth.

“C’mon,” Terry said. He tugged on your arm for you to turn around.

You did so and slapped the wash cloth against his chest. “I miss you,” you said, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He closed his mouth and grimaced, jaw flexing.

You flattened both of your hands against his chest and stepped closer. Water hit your back at a lukewarm temperature. You had no clue how he could shower like this but that wasn’t the point. “I miss my husband and I need you to come back, right now,” you said.

Terry closed his eyes and his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something but the words never came. Whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat and he couldn’t choke it out.

“So after this shower, you better step out of it and remember that you did everything right for Mike. And he made his own choices. That’s not your fault. It has never been your fault. And it’s time you accept that,” you said.

You moved the wash cloth over his skin, scrubbing him down. Soap transferred to his body in thick suds, falling down his skin. He watched you and shut his mouth as you scrubbed him all over his chest and moved on to his arms.

His eyes never left yours as you massaged the cloth between his fingers. He sighed and hummed as you found tense spots. You rubbed him deeper in those areas, working out the tension.

You maneuvered behind him so he could rinse and then washed his back, creating big circles of soap. You moved down to his ass, teasing him a bit. He grunted and then chuckled. Well, that was a good sign. If he was chuckling then at least he was starting to relax.

You washed down his legs, tickling him in areas. He danced out of your way and you warned him to be careful in this slippery ass shower.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back and kill you again,” you warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and smirked.

You worked your way back to his front. His dick twitched and bobbed in your face. You looked up at him and his head was tilted to the side as he looked down at you. Fuck, he was pretty like this. Above you, staring at you, and in all his naked glory.

He needed to walk around like this more often. For your eyes only. That beautiful male body needed to be on display 24/7.

You looked at his dick and then slowly dragged your eyes up his body and back to his striking ocean eyes. He took in a deep breath as his mouth curved upward. The rise and fall of his chest had an answering throb in your clit. You dropped to your knees on the hard flooring but it barely registered in your mind.

Your husband worked his way back to you in the best way you both knew how. Sex was everything to the both of you. The one way you knew you were on solid ground. From the moment you two met, it had been electric and consuming. Always finding ways to touch each other or be near each other and breathe each other’s air.

You dragged the wash cloth over his dick. At the first press of your hand, he hissed and jerked his hips towards you. You steadied your left hand on his hip and then stroked him with your right.

He lifted his head towards the showerhead and let the water run down his face. Since he leaned back, water fell on top of your head and face but you kept looking towards him and the look on his face.

He was hands down the most beautiful man you had ever met. And the kindest. He wasn’t always nice. He had more than enough words to say about folks that crossed him. But he was always kind, always treated people with respect. And he was a gentleman on top of it. Always opened your doors, always stood on the side of the street closest to danger. Every day, you found new ways to fall in love with your man. You only wished he’d forgive himself.

“I love you. And I miss you. I need you to come back,” you told him. You increased the pressure, giving him long, slow strokes. All the way down to his base, squeezed, and then worked your way back to his tip.

He groaned and rolled his neck, moving his hips. Your pussy throbbed seeing cum leak from his tip. He leaned one hand on the side of the shower, fingers pushing into the grooves.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“You have to let me in when things get dark, Terry. I don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside,” you told him.

Terry nodded his head and his eyes turned darker. But he didn’t look so far away now. His eyes were clearer, more present. “I hate feeling like I failed,” he said. His jaw flexed and you matched him stare for stare.

“You did everything you possibly could. You deserve a life too. Not to punish yourself for the life Mike doesn’t have,” you said. You paused stroking and let the sound of the shower fill the room.

Steam rose to the ceiling in wispy clouds. Soap and water rushed down Terry’s body. His chest rose and fell in heaving sighs but then evened out. Once his breathing returned to normal, you began stroking him again.

He groaned and dropped his head as you increased your strokes. You watched his face and watched the emotions play across his features. His lush lips parted and he moaned, deeply and guttural. “I’m gonna bust,” he moaned.

“Give it to me,” you whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the spray of water. You kept your same pace and three strokes later, Terry’s dick throbbed and his cum splashed onto your neck and titties.

Terry’s moans were sweet music to your ears. You grinned evilly and kept stroking. He jerked and stuttered with chuckles and reached out to still your hands. He huffed and chuckled, giving you a saucy wink.

He pulled you up by your arms and crushed his lips to yours as soon as you were within reach. He grabbed the cloth from your hands and hung it on the lip of the shower door. He cupped your neck in both hands and angled your face to meet his rough kisses. You moaned into his mouth. You missed this. You missed him. So damn badly.

The ache in your chest finally lifted now that your man was back. He healed and soothed with every kiss, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his thumb on your wet skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered between kisses.

“It’s okay,” you whispered back.

Terry pulled back and looked into your eyes. He narrowed his and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will call and get help later today. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You deserve better from me,” he said.

You tilted your head and kissed his wrist. “I do. But I also know we’re in this for life. So I need you to let me in more,” you said.

Terry nodded. “I promise. Thank you, for sticking with me through this shit,” he said.

“That’s what wives are for,” you said with a giggle.

Terry took a deep breath and then a mischievous gleam made his hazel eyes twinkle. A smirk curved his lips and he began to massage your neck. You hummed and your eyes drooped. “Husbands are for protecting you and taking care of you, right?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said slowly, eyeing him. He was up to something…

Terry flipped you around and pressed your chest against the glass shower doors. You cried out from the sudden cold on your nipples as he pushed until your titties flattened against the doors. He kicked your legs wider to spread for him and your body shivered from his casual roughness.

“T-Terry,” you sighed.

Terry locked your arms behind you, hooking his arm around your elbows so that you were unable to move. Terry licked the shell of your ear and you shuddered. He slipped his free hand around your throat to pull your neck back and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna make up for my bullshit,” he promised with heat laced through every syllable.

“Terry, you don’t–”

Terry cut you off by moving his hand from your neck to his dick. He ran the tip through your dripping folds and then plunged inside with a rough thrust. “Oh shit!” You cried out, twisting your hands to try and slow him down. But because he had your arms trapped, you had no choice but to take his dick.

He angled your hips into a more comfortable position and then he slipped his hand back around your throat. He grunted with every deep thrust, filling you up, and making you take it.

“Too much, too much,” you whined, trying to lean away from him. Terry pushed into you harder, pinning you to the door, while he continued to fuck you. Your forehead leaned on the doors and your breath fogged up the glass with your moans and sighs.

“You can take it, baby,” he said, sinking you deeper and harder onto his length. He kissed your neck, licked and nibbled in areas, and moved upwards to your ear. “I love you so much. And I know I’ve been an ass. I haven’t been fair to you,” he whispered in your ear while he continued to dig into your guts.

You weren’t quite prepared for him to be so sweet and so nasty all at once. He gave you no time to fully hear his message or fully focus on his dick inside you so you were stuck in a twisted limbo. Suspended between absolute pleasure and your heart swelling with emotions.

“That ends today, okay? I’ll prove that I’ll do better,” he said. He grunted and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned.

“That’s my job as your husband. And it’s a job I take seriously,” he said. He smiled against your neck and then pulled you into a rough kiss over your shoulder. Your lips danced and played with each other as your orgasm rushed to the surface.

You began to cry and stutter as it washed over you. Terry moaned as you squeezed around his dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he panted into your ear.

When you came down, Terry let your arms go. He slipped out with a grunt and stepped back. You missed the heat of him instantly. He rubbed the feeling back into your arms from having them bent back for so long. He grabbed the discarded wash cloth from the top of the shower and rinsed it out.

He lathered up with his soap and then carefully washed down your back and your ass. His finger slipped between your cheeks to tease as he washed you down and you giggled with him.

Terry turned you around and washed down your front. Washed the cum from your chest that didn’t rinse off from the water. You smiled at each other, finding your way back with every swipe of the cloth across your titties, your tummy, and down your thighs. He ran the cloth between your legs, careful not to get soap in between, and you moaned just from having his hands on you again.

His lips on yours. His eyes seeing you again after weeks of zoning out. Hints of your husband poked through that barrier he erected and now you were let in behind the wall. You grinned at him and leaned on your toes for a kiss.

The kiss was meant to be innocent and sweet, just something to show that you loved him. That you were there and never letting him disappear again. But Terry kissed you deeper, grabbing you about the neck once more and crushed his lips to yours.

His tongue slipped inside and then he gently nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Terry,” you sighed. Your stomach flipped with desire. Pussy throbbing. Once wasn’t nearly enough.

“I know,” he said. He lifted your chin and brought you in for a sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss even as he maneuvered you towards the shower wall. He lifted you by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips.

“Fuck,” you cried out. It never ceased to amaze you that he was so strong. He worked hard in the gym to take care of himself but also to lift every pound you had. He lifted without effort, without strain, and grinned when he caught the look on your face.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Terry said. He stared into your eyes as he pushed back into you. Back into your warm, wet heat and you both groaned as he pushed in slowly, all the way down to the base.

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, clutching on for dear life. He was huge and thick. Long. He pulled back and then sank in once more, repeating this over and over to make you feel every last inch of him. Feel his mushroom head push against your soft, spongy walls welcoming him in.

Your mouth dropped open, needing to release something. A cry, a moan, a word. Nothing came as he stroked into you, increasing with each one. Soon, he was slamming into you. His wet, loud strokes echoed in the tiled shower and your cries soon joined it.

“You feelin’ me?” He asked.

You nodded. You adjusted your arms around his neck and he dropped his forehead to yours.

“Look at me,” he whispered. You locked your eyes with him and it somehow made his strokes even more intense. He throbbed inside you.

“You feel me. Right here and now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going away again,” he moaned while he stroked.

“Terry,” you sniffled.

Fuck, this was all you ever wanted. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to be a textbook definition of a husband. You just wanted him present and with you. Sharing his pain and his joys. Sickness and health. Better and worse. Those were the vows you swore before a room full of your close friends and family.

“I feel you. I feel you right here,” you promised.

Terry switched up his strokes, getting deeper than before and bottoming out. You both groaned and threw your heads back, getting lost in the sensation of him filling you up. Connecting the both of you. As close as you could possibly be to another human being.

Terry leaned down and kissed you, playing with your lips, even as his hips slammed into you over and over. Pressure built in your belly, making your thighs quake and your arms tremble. “Terry, please, I can’t,” you begged. It was too much. It felt like you were out of control, out of your norm, unrooted.

Terry only continued exactly what he was doing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You can keep going,” he said.

Your eyes swam and your vision turned blurry as you clung to him and came undone on his dick again. Your cries were loud enough to echo and bounce off of the tiled walls and ceiling, giving you a feedback loop of your own pleasure. It amplified your orgasm and you shut your eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling.

Terry kissed you all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He pumped you into you until his own hips stuttered and shot loads of thick cum into your pussy. You whined and shivered as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper.

He slowed to a gradual stop and you stayed connected like that while you both recovered. Water still pelted the both of you and you kissed on each other, soaking up the moment. Terry leaned over and turned off the water, still holding you.

He smiled and kissed your lips. He nuzzled your nose. “Missed this,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. You kissed his cheek.

Terry carefully stepped out of the shower with you still wrapped around him like a spider monkey. You were glad. Because now that you had him back, you weren’t ready to let him go. As if you would keep him here with you by sheer force of will.

He moved the towel from the edge of the sink and placed you down, slipping out of you. You kissed and loved on each other while he dried the both of you off. Greedy for more, you reached between you to play with his heavy balls.

Terry groaned and tilted his head down at you. “You sure you wanna do that?” He asked.

You continued fondling his balls, rubbing them between your fingers, and making him moan. His hips canted towards yours and you bit your lip, needing him back inside. Two orgasms weren’t enough. No number would satisfy you.

“It’s been too long,” you pouted and looked at him.

He chuckled and kissed you, taking possession of your poked out lip. He suckled on it and you moaned, feeling your pussy respond and ache from just this small action.

“Get that sexy ass on our bed. Let me clean up in here and I’ll take care of that,” he said.

You pouted again and whined but he bit your lip. “Now.” He deepened his voice and arched a perfect eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes and his eyebrow lifted higher. You grinned and hopped off the sink. While being punished for your attitude would be fun, you just wanted him right now. No extras, no games. You wanted to enjoy him and enjoy his body.

He smacked your ass as you walked out and he chuckled after you shrieked and hid your ass behind your hands. You skipped to your bedroom and laid down on your bed. Cool air blew across your damp skin but it wasn’t freezing or uncomfortable.

The temperature was just right to make you hyper aware of your body. Of the feel of your skin and the thorough fucking Terry just gave you. Your pussy was still sensitive but you couldn’t resist teasing your clit. You ran your other hand along your skin, your belly, and your titties. Squeezing your nipple between your fingers and moaning from the dual sensations.

“Terry…” you called out, drawing out his name. If he didn’t get in here soon, you were about to take matters into your own hands.

The afternoon sun was setting low, rich oranges and golds slanting through your curtains and casting a warm glow about your room. Most days, you hated that your place faced east and west, but on lazy days like today, it was perfect.

Terry moved about the bathroom, you had no clue what he was doing. So you closed your eyes and continued to play with yourself. You grew wetter by the second, your mind filling in with images of Terry’s broad chest. His narrow hips. That monster he had between his legs and the unbridled pleasure he managed to provide every single time.

God, you loved that man. In every which way you were able to get him. You didn’t have the words to convey it but you’d spend the rest of your life trying to find them.

You moaned as your imagination took over. Replaying what happened in the shower, the look on his face, the fire in his hazel eyes. You sighed as Terry entered the room.

“Oh, you bold,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t stop though. You spread your legs further and shifted on the bed so that he could get a clearer view. “All warmed up for you,” you teased.

Terry’s eyes dropped to the core of you, at the way you held your pussy lips open. Your other hand teased around your clit in figure eights, dipping into your pussy every so often to gather up more essence.

Terry’s tongue swiped out to lick from one side to the other. Your fingers lost their rhythm. “Keep going,” he commanded.

You whined and started up again but you couldn’t think straight. Not with him leaning against the wall looking at you like you were a five course meal and he was a starving man. When you just couldn’t find that spot again, Terry smirked and walked closer.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You,” you said.

Terry smirked and took his time kneeling at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your thighs and pressed his thumbs to your inner thighs, massaging them. “Fuck,” you moaned and twisted, trying to close your legs and trap his hands there.

“Naw. Open back up. That’s what you get for trying to handle it yourself,” he said.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” you said and smirked. Terry lifted an eyebrow but his eyes were still on your throbbing pussy. He had to see how you were clenching around nothing. Clenching and reaching for him.

He leaned down and kissed your clit. He retreated too quickly for your blood and you whined, pushing your hips back towards his face.

“I’m still apologizing so I won’t make you beg this time,” he said. Without further ado, he dragged his pink, juicy lips through your folds, hunting for your clit. His tongue darted out and teased, dragging the tip through your folds. His tongue was warm as it flattened against your clit and he licked.

“Fuck!” You screamed out.

Terry smiled between your legs before getting down to business. He suckled and licked and nibbled while he feasted on your pussy. Your pussy throbbed and ached while he slurped up your essence noisily.

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you moaned.

Terry locked in to the spot and swirled his tongue around in tight circles. You clutched to the covers, nails digging in for dear life as you twisted and jerked. You reached down to grab onto the back of his head and push his head deeper.

Terry placed his hands to your thighs and pinned them to the bed while he ate you out, never stopping for breath. He just ate like a man possessed until you were twitching and crying out on his tongue, reaching your climax in record time.

Terry continued to eat you out through it, whispering into your pussy how perfect and sexy you were. How much he had to make up for. Your throat was scratched raw from all the moaning you were doing, too spent to respond. To tell him that he didn’t have a damn thing to make up for. His pain was valid and he had a right to see it through, but he had to see it through. Not just disappear into his head.

None of that came through. Your vision swam as you looked at the popcorn ceiling, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence. Terry replaced the view of the ceiling, leaning down on his fists, as he smirked at you.

“Still with me?” He asked.

“Always,” you sighed.

He chuckled as he climbed onto the bed. It dipped beneath his weight, jostling you a bit. His knees pushed your legs on top of his thighs. His eyes sparkled as he slipped into you, meeting no resistance from your pussy.

“Shit,” you grunted. You pushed feebly at his chest. Not necessarily to make him stop, but fuck, you needed time to recover. Time to catch your breath. He stole the motherfucker, the least he could do was let you gain it back.

“Nothing feels better than this,” he said. He sank deeper into you, making you curl into him and squeeze his hips with your legs. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, poking your chest out for his lips to capture your nipples.

He suckled on them, going back and forth between the two, while he fucked into you lazily. Unhurried. Like he managed to pause time long enough to focus on delivering you pleasure. His eyes found yours and he smiled, his dazzling grin turning you stupid and pliant.

He groaned as he felt your body relax and he dug into you, harder, deeper, faster. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you moaned.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said.

You whined and focused on cumming with him like he said. You could feel him throbbing inside you, close, oh so close. You panted, sweating, legs trembling, back bowing. He leaned to one side so that he could slip his free hand between your legs to play with your clit.

Your moans increased to a near panic as your orgasm came running at his beck and call. You cried out and your squeezing pussy milked him. He moaned and dropped his head as he spilled into you over and over, his body trembling from the force.

He kissed your cheek but you otherwise laid there and enjoyed the feeling of him crushing you to the bed. Who needed oxygen anyway?

Your stomach rumbled, breaking the beautiful silence after such a powerful moment. You both laughed as it rumbled again. Terry released your hands and you covered your tummy. He pushed your hands away with his chin and then kissed your belly.

“We’re gonna need another shower and then I need to feed my wife,” he said.

“Feed your wife or feed your wife?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows. You were spent and tired but you could find another round in you for him. Always for him.

“Both, nasty ass,” he said. He stood up and then pulled you with him to stand as well. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss and promised over and over with both his tongue and his actions that he would become a man worthy of your love.

The end.

I love you all. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

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@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

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thecutestmonkeygirl · 21 minutes ago

Text

She watched as he glanced to the couch. “Go find it and come back to me. I don’t mind you texting him while we cuddle and wait for lunch.” She encouraged knowing he wouldn’t be fully happy or relaxed till he had some closure on this.

She knew he was right and she wasn’t exactly sure what to say about it so she sat quietly in thought for a long moment. “It’s much harder for me to think you’ll run away with Raphael. I know you like him but he is a guy, for one and for two he works with Echo. Echo isn’t going to allow him to leave just because of love or something.” She sighed softly. “But it will be harder for me if you come back exhausted but it might happen and I’ll have to see it through. We are mates and I wouldn’t have mates with you just to turn and run. “ she explained.

“I know but…he said he was going to spend time with Bastien.” She sighed. “I think I should explain this but it’s between us, okay? Bastien is in love with Echo and I guess Echo uses Bastien as his ummm personal pet.” She explained and glanced up to her mate to make sure he understood her meaning. “Nobody else is even allowed to touch Bastien either so today I found out the Echo hasn’t slept with anybody but me in a good while. He hold back and waits for me even if I never asked or expected it. I only ever asked if be his first choice when I am in reach but if I’m not around …” she shrugged. “So Bastien is touch starved and hurting and after some talking I agreed that Echo should spend time with Bastien now… so I’m not even sure I’ll be alone with Echo again the remainder of the trip. It just depends on the fairy I suppose.” Clearly not trilled about any of this but understanding why it was the way it was.

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

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lorasdolly · 3 days ago

Note

Can i ask for Pregnant Wife!reader x Wife Ambessa. Reader is pregnant and Horny and goes and interrupts ambessa in her war meeting or some kind of meeting with like generals and important people, and Ambessa is very firm and kind and obeys her wife and just smut please 🌸

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀

You're early in your second trimester and to summarize it plainly; it's horrible. Legs cramps, swelling, headaches, backache, heartburn, and so much more. Additionally, you've have some increase in energy and lack of sleep.

Ambessa has been nothing but obedient since your pregnancy was announced to her and the rest of Noxus. She'll massage any and every inch of your body, kiss and worship it, shut down ceremonies for you, feed you, and anything that leaves your lips will be granted.

Today, your body was driving you crazy. The aching at your core, the heat pooling at the bottom of your tummy, and the slick from your cunt soaking the panties you had on. Ambessa had been quite busy too, meetings back to back, paperwork, hardly any time for you.

You wanted to fight and argue with her, mood swings tempting you to go storm in there and yell at her with tears trickling down your face. Call her all sorts of names; bad wife, meany, and more immature, childish taunts.

Yet the first time you did that, practically publicly humiliating her, she handled it far better than anyone else. She cradled your face, wiped your tears, and assured you she'd take care of everything you had going on.

Instead, today you decided to wobble your way over to the grand hall. Discussions were loud and sounded even through the thick walls, you could hear Ambessa's powerful voice calling for order and you already knew she was upset with the people gathered inside.

You swung the doors open, eyebrows knitting together as you made your way towards Ambessa at the end of the oval-shaped table. "God, 'Bessa!" You spoke, your heels clacking on the marble floor. Ambessa immediately stood, her arms wide as you stand before her.

"Dear, anything particular that brought you here?" She spoke lightly, not paying any mind to the murmurs in the hall. You nodded, your hands at her biceps for leverage. "Need you, 'Bessa, now!" You whined like a spoiled child and she sighed, her gaze darting around the room.

She grabbed your hand within hers, "Okay, dearest, let us go," She spoke firmly, placing her large hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door without making a grand disturbance. Ambessa was proud that you came in quietly and asked for what was needed instead of causing a scene.

"God, we're talking here!" A man yelled, his fists slamming against the center table. A shiver ran up your spine and Ambessa's jaw clenched. She would've taken care of that man right there, but it could've stressed you out, it might've put strain on your body.

She takes a deep breath and keeps walking before he speaks again, "Can't you control your damned wife? She's like a dog! Always getting herself where she doesn't belong—"

Ambessa thoughtlessly grabbed the man's jaw with her hand, practically lifting him off the seat, her eyes seething. His hand came towards hers, grabbing at it, his eyes pleading an apology. You were there, biting your bottom lip.

You didn't imagine you'd be this much of a bother. The only things running through your head were "Why do you always have to mess everything up?"

You grabbed at your gown and rushed out towards you and Ambessa's quarters, unable to watch the scene you had created any longer. Ambessa released the man without second thought and ran to you, opening and slamming doors till she reached the bedroom.

"Dear, god," Ambessa said, watching the tears developing in your eyes as you clench the covers in your fists. She sat besides you, cradling your body to her larger frame. "Why are you crying? Why'd you storm out?"

You tried to not let the crying turn into blubbering so you held onto Ambessa and took deep breaths. "I— I didn't think my request would cause so much trouble again–" She cut you off, her thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"You caused no trouble. That man caused it for himself, are you listening to me?" You wanted to argue and disagree, yet the firm spark in her eye made you imagine how she'd react to another disagreement.

You nodded, pursing your lips, eyes scanning the room everywhere but on Ambessa. "Now, what was that you wished of me, dearest?" She asked softly, laying you down fully on the bed with tenderness, careful not to give you too much movement.

You whimpered, hands tangling into her hair. "I feel so achey, 'Bessa." You spoke, legs spreading and make room for her.

"God, you are awfully childish with your words," She rolled her eyes yet playfully. "You require of me to help you cum, dear?" She spoke and you quivered at the vulgarity she resorted to. Her hands rested on your thighs, occasionally squeezing. "It's not— I'm not requiring you.."

She laughed, amused that you chose to focus on that segment of her words. Ambessa's fingers were already wandering beneath the waistband of your panties and hiking up your dress. She slipped them down and off your ankles, then neatly placed them on the edge of the bed.

She knew any disorder could spark a mood swing when you were pregnant.

Her hands circled your thigh as she kneeled between them, hearing your anticipatory moans as encouragement. Teasingly, her tongue circled on your inner thigh, never releasing eye contact with you. "Oh my— 'Bessa, fuck," You murmured in a high pitch regard, tugging on her hair and squirming, resisting the need to buck your cunt against her face.

"What happened to avoiding vulgarity? Watch your tongue dear, don't be a hypocrite." She taunted, pressing sloppy kisses on your cunt. You nodded frantically, avoiding the temptation to fuck her face. You trusted her enough to know everything she did had purpose. She attached her lips to your clit, all her tongue movements precise .

You moan softly, back arching off the mattress. It felt good, but you felt as if it wasn't fulfilling, Your moans died out slowly and she removed her mouth, an eyebrow cocked. "What happened, dear?" You tried not to get emotional as you spoke, "Can't see your face. Not.. doesn't feel good when you're not close to me." She chuckles, not expecting that declaration from you.

"Yeah?" She lifted herself to cover your body vertically, her hand then reaching down to your cunt, "Is this better, dear?" She asked, her head dipping low between your neck to add little wet kisses. You nod, arms circling her back and scratching at it. She inserted one finger, slowly and carefully curling it inside, then slipping another one in to match the movements.

Your face nuzzled against hers, huffing slightly with parted lips. She took that opportunity to kiss you, her tongue going between your lips as her fingers pace increased. Your hands traveled from her back to her hair, tugging once again. You could hardly return the kiss, her hand calculated every pleasurable spot. Her other hand rested on your tummy, rubbing it gently.

She began to pump her fingers in and out, the prominent squelching noises adding to the wetness between your legs. One of your hands held her jaw, sloppily continuing to kiss her. Her body engulfing yours was the only thing you needed and her hands pleasuring you added to all of the sensations.

You bucked your hips upwards against her hand and she moaned into the kiss, lips finally parting to catch your air. Her fucking you never stopped, kissing your jawline and cheek, spit all over both areas. "God– 'Bessa, I'm so– so close," You whimpered, hands moving beneath her shirt to knead her tits. Ambessa moaned throatily, quickening the pace and intensity.

Your head launched back against the pillow, cumming all over her hand within a matter of seconds. She chuckled, letting you roll your hips against her palm to ride the orgasm. "Did that cure your symptoms, dearest?" You nodded, watching as she laid down besides you. Your hands nearly immediately came to fiddle with her clothes, tugging at them, basically begging for her to help you remove them.

"Oh? Are you planning to do this again?" You shook your head at the suggestion in her tone. She quirked a brow, removing her top and tossing it to the same corners your panties were at. She then watched you tug your dress fully off and place it on the bed.

Your body came to cover hers, chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin. You whimpered shakily, needing to feel her warmth against yours. She smiled tenderly, engrossing you within her arms. "Here I was letting my mind wander... you're just too sweet." Ambessa whispered, allowing you to nuzzle between her jawline.

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vunblr · 1 day ago

Text

A Cabin for Two

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Desperate for a break from the constant interruptions of their daily lives, Bucky plans a getaway to a secluded cabin deep in the woods. What begins as a peaceful escape soon tests their patience, sparks intimacy, and reveals the strength of their connection.

Word Count: 8.3k

notes: Part of the Roots and Branches AU

The quiet of the mornings was a fragile thing, and it had been shattered almost an hour ago by the insistent chime of the doorbell. Bucky lay in bed, with his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he listened to the muffled voices drifting from the front door. She’d answered it quickly but politely, though the conversation had dragged on far longer than it should have.

He sighed, the comfort and warmth of the bed doing little to soothe the irritation bubbling under his skin. Alone time had become a rare treasure, and lately, it seemed like everyone in town had made it their mission to interfere. He knew the elderly neighbor meant well, but after endless minutes of unsolicited chatter, his patience was wearing thin.

Her polite attempts to wrap things up were obvious, even from here: a gentle laugh, a soft, “Oh, well, I won’t keep you much longer,” but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Bucky’s jaw tightened for the first time in the day as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

With a grumble, he stood and pulled on his jeans, then grabbed his flannel shirt from the chair in the corner. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he crossed to the hallway, shrugging into his coat and grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.

When he reached the entryway, he stopped briefly, flicking his eyes between the two women. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and her expression was somewhere between apologetic and exasperated. He arched a brow, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low but polite, nodding at the elderly woman as he signaled his intention to pass.

“Oh!” The neighbor blinked up at him, clearly startled but recovering quickly. “Heading out so early?”

“I’m going to the workshop,” he almost growled as he glanced at her. Then, turning to Y/n, he softened slightly. “Call you later.”

She tilted her head, and a small frown tugged at her lips. “Oh, And breakfast? Want me to make y-”

“No need, darling,” he cut her off gently but firmly, turning on his heel before she could protest.

The screen door creaked and slammed shut behind him, and he strode toward the truck with purposeful steps. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he let out a deep breath, gripping the wheel as he stared at the empty road ahead.

Enough was enough, they needed a break. A time for just the two of them, away from the endless interruptions and the ever-watchful eyes of the town. The idea took root in his mind as the engine roared to life, and a plan took form as he drove toward the workshop. A cabin, a weekend, and nothing but the quiet woods surrounding them.

---

The workshop smelled of sawdust and varnish, and the familiar hum of machinery was already buzzing in the background as Bucky pulled up. He parked the truck, killed the engine, and sat for a moment, gripping the steering wheel as the plan solidified in his mind. The only problem? It was the height of the season. Every halfway-decent cabin in the area would already be booked.

“Damn it,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the seat with a groan.

Swallowing his pride, he pushed open the truck door and made his way inside. The workshop was bustling as usual, but Sam spotted him almost immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing as he approached. “Morning, sunshine,” he drawled, already a grin tugging at his lips. “You look grumpier than usual. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bucky replied curtly, shrugging off his coat and draping it over a nearby chair.

Sam raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re stomping around like someone stole your breakfast, but it’s ‘nothing.’ Got it.”

Bucky shot him a warning look, but Sam only chuckled, leaning against the workbench with crossed arms.

“Actually…” Bucky started, gruffly, “you know any cabins ‘round here? Something quiet. Away from people.”

Sam’s grin widened immediately. “You mean, like your house?”

Bucky leveled him with a dirty look, “Farther away.”

Sam’s grin widened. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Why do you need a faraway cabin, Buck?”

“Just answer the question,” Bucky muttered, pulling a pencil from behind his ear and fiddling with it to avoid Sam’s knowing gaze.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said, smirking. “There’s a couple of places I know of, but good luck finding one that’s not booked. You’re cutting it close, man.”

Bucky huffed, staring down at the workbench. “Figured. That’s why I’m asking you.”

Sam tilted his head, his grin turning sly. “And why exactly do you need a cabin? I thought you hated leaving your place for anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“Because,” Bucky grumbled, his voice tight with reluctance, “we could use a break. Just us. No interruptions.”

Sam’s grin practically split his face. “Oh, so it’s for her.” He let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying Bucky’s discomfort. “Man, you’re whipped. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Sam,” Bucky warned, already starting to get irritated. “Are you gonna help or not?”

Sam chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. “Relax, big guy. I’ve got a cousin who rents out his place sometimes. It’s a little rustic, but it’s quiet, and I’m pretty sure he keeps a spot open for last-minute bookings.”

Bucky perked up slightly, meeting his gaze with Sam’s. “Think he’ll go for it?”

“For you? Probably,” Sam said, grinning. “But only if you promise to stop scowling at everyone for the rest of the week.”

----

By midmorning, Sam’s cousin had called back, and to Bucky’s relief, there was an opening. Apparently, Sam had pulled some strings, mentioning a few owed favors that Bucky didn’t bother asking about. He wasn’t thrilled about relying on Sam’s connections, but he’d take the win. The cabin was booked for the weekend, tucked deep in the woods with no neighbors for miles, a perfect escape.

The morning passed uneventfully after that. He kept busy at the workshop, occupying his mind with the trip and all the things he’d need to prepare. It wasn’t until just after noon that the door creaked open, and the sound of boots on the wooden floor caught his attention.

“Brought you something,” her voice chimed, light and warm, cutting through the steady hum of saws and chatter.

Bucky looked up to see her standing there, the familiar green tupperware in her hands and a smile tugging at her lips. His heart softened instantly, but with Sam and a couple of others milling about, he cleared his throat and kept his expression neutral.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, stepping closer to take the container.

“I wanted to,” she replied. “Figured you didn’t even have breakfast, did you?”

Caught, Bucky gave her a small, sheepish nod. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, low enough that only she could hear.

She tilted her head, widening her smile. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you eat it before it gets cold.”

He was about to step back when she leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against his stubbled cheek. His muscles tensed on instinct, heat rushing to his face as he shot a quick glance around the room. Sam, of course, was already watching, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Aww, such pampering,” he teased, dragging out the words. “Now I get why he wants to-”

Bucky’s glare cut him off mid-sentence, sharp and unrelenting. If looks could kill, Sam’s head would’ve been obliterated on the spot.

“Shut it, Wilson,” he growled, under his breath.

Sam held up his hands in mock surrender, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “Alright, alright. No need to get your flannel in a twist. Just saying, man, she’s a keeper.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, and his ears tinged pink as he turned back to her, holding the tupper like it might save him from further embarrassment. She caught the faint tension in his shoulders and, more curiously, the lingering echo of Sam’s teasing. Tilting her head, she gave him a pointed look.

“So,” she asked lightly, her voice curious but playful, “what do you want?”

Bucky blinked, his brows knitting in confusion. “What?”

She arched a brow, twitching the corner of her mouth with amusement. “I pamper you,” she said, gesturing toward the tupperware in his hands, “so you want...?”

His jaw tightened, and a muscle in his cheek twitched as he quickly looked away. “Nothin’,” he muttered gruffly. “He just likes to talk.”

Her smile widened, and she folded her arms leaning slightly closer, clearly not buying his attempt to brush it off. He shifted awkwardly under her gaze, fumbling with the lid of the container.

“I should probably eat this,” he said finally, rushed and uneven, “and, uh, get back to the project.” He scratched the back of his neck, brushing the short ponytail he’d tied earlier that morning.

She stifled a laugh, and her eyes softened as she watched him retreat into himself with that signature mix of bashfulness and stubbornness. “Alright,” she said gently, stepping back with a teasing glint in her eye. “Enjoy the casserole, and don’t forget to actually eat it this time, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, turning toward the workbench with a slight hunch to his shoulders, clearly hoping to escape further scrutiny.

Behind him, Sam’s quiet chuckle reached his ears, and he sent another sharp glare in his direction. But as he settled back into his work, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

-----

Bucky parked his truck outside her house. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and swung the door open, but as he stepped down, a sharp pang shot through his left arm.

“Dammit,” he muttered, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulder as he slammed the truck door shut. For the past two days, the damp weather had been wreaking havoc on the mess of titanium and bone beneath his skin. He grimaced, shaking it off as he made his way up the porch steps.

Fishing the spare key from his pocket, he fumbled with the lock for a moment before letting himself in.

The house was quiet, her laptop sat open on the coffee table, the screen glowing with text she’d been working on. She wasn’t in sight, probably in the bathroom or kitchen. Shrugging off his coat, he draped it over a chair and wandered closer to the coffee table, drawn by the colorful streaks of red and green she’d marked across the page.

He leaned in, squinting at the scene she was editing. A heated moment between a widowed heroine and a cowboy -one who, judging by the way she’d scribbled well-endowed in the margins- wasn’t exactly shy about his physical assets.

Bucky’s brow quirked as he read further. The barn. The hay. The cowboy’s intense sense of duty. The way the poor widow…wait. Was this guy seriously using a breeding-

“Bucky!”

He flinched, startled by her voice, and straightened so fast his neck cracked. She stood in the doorway, wide eyes darting between him and her laptop.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, rushing forward and snapping the laptop shut faster than he could blink.

He raised his hands in mock innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Didn’t mean to snoop,” he drawled with amusement. “Just... couldn’t help but notice what kind of ‘research’ you’re doing these days.”

Her cheeks burned as she folded her arms, trying -and failing- to look unbothered. “It’s not research. It’s editing and proof-reading,” she corrected quickly. “And you’re supposed to be grabbing your tools, not reading over my shoulder!”

Bucky smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the back of the couch. “That what you call it? Editing?” She narrowed her eyes “I didn’t say anything about the, uh...” His smirk deepened as her glare sharpened. “...dedication that cowboy seems to have toward the widow and the old breeding stock on the barn.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Chuckling, Bucky pushed off the couch and moved closer. “Relax, sweetheart.” He brushed a hand against her arm, warmly and reassuringly. “I came to grab my tools, but... I’ve got something to tell you.”

She peeked at him through her fingers. “What’s that?”

His smirk faded into something softer, more thoughtful. “How do you feel about a weekend away? Just us. No laptops, no interruptions, no... cowboys.”

Her hands dropped from her face, and her eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck under his short ponytail. “Yeah. Got a cabin lined up. Quiet. Middle of nowhere. Thought it’d be good to... get outta here for a bit.”

Her expression melted into a warm smile, and she stepped closer, resting her hands lightly on his chest. “That sounds perfect, Buck.”

He ducked his head, and his lips twitched into a small, shy smile. “Figured you’d like it.”

She leaned up, brushing a kiss against his lips. “I love it. And you.”

His heart stuttered but he recovered quickly, pulling her closer. “Love you too, darlin’,”

She tilted her head with a playful glint in her eye as her hands slid down his chest. “So,” she began, teasing but curious, “what’s the occasion? Don’t tell me I forgot some special date I’m not aware of?”

Bucky froze for a split second, fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater as his eyes darted briefly away. “I just-” he started, but the words got stuck in his throat. He kicked himself inwardly, forcing himself to man up and meet her gaze. Taking a breath, he straightened his shoulders.

“I want alone time with you,” he said firmly, tumbling out the words with an edge of determination.

Her lips parted in slight surprise, though her smile didn’t fade. She somehow understood where this was going, but knowing how rare it was for him to be this straightforward, she decided to play innocent and coax him into saying more.

“Alone?” she echoed, tilting her head. “But you already sleep here four days a week, and normally on weekends we-”

“Completely alone,” he cut her off.

She blinked at the rare flash of certainty in his voice, but his grumpy pout that followed had her stifling a laugh.

“No boy scout cookie sellers,” he grumbled while his expression darkened at the memory of being roped into buying five boxes last week. “No bored old ladies ringing the doorbell to trap you all morning. And not that friend of yours who always shows up for baking lessons she doesn’t even take seriously.”

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled at his increasing exasperation. “I get it.”

His frown softened slightly, but he still looked serious.

“And...” she ventured, with a sly grin, “what exactly are your plans for those days alone, hm?”

Bucky’s ears flushed red, and his mouth opened as though to respond, but for a moment, nothing came out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, flicking his eyes to the side before landing back on her.

“Well...” he started, “figured we could... I don’t know. Talk. Sleep in. Walk in the woods. Maybe build a fire. Eat something you didn’t have to cook.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just... be.”

Her heart softened, and her grin faded into a gentle smile as she stepped closer. “That sounds perfect, Buck,” she said softly, brushing a hand against his cheek.

His eyes searched hers for a moment, then he exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips as she added, “especially for the part where we could wander around naked at any hour knowing no one would come.”

Bucky froze, tightening his hands instinctively on her waist. His gaze flickered with something darker, primal, as her words hung in the air.

She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks warming as she saw his expression shift, at his blue eyes narrowing with interest. Emboldened, she tilted her head closer, dropping her voice into a sultry whisper. “And… since there are no neighbors... we can be all loud... and naughty.”

The growl that escaped him was low and deep, sending a delicious shiver racing down her spine. His hands slid down to her hips, holding her firmly as he stepped closer “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Am I?” she teased, as she trailed her fingers up his chest, her nails brushing lightly over the fabric of his sweater.

“You are,” he confirmed, tightening his grip just enough to make her breath hitch. “You sure you can keep up?”

Her laughter was soft and breathless as she leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

----

The weekend came by, and they headed off to the cabin. It was nice. The sun was dipping low, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape. The truck rumbled steadily along the winding road, and the soft hum of the cozy heater filled the silence between them.

But as they rounded a bend, the truck jolted suddenly, listing to one side.

“Great,” Bucky muttered, pulling to the shoulder and cutting the engine. He stepped out into the crisp evening air, already suspecting the problem before he even reached the rear tire. The flat was obvious, the sagging rubber was almost completely deflated. He muttered another curse, running a hand through his hair.

He heard the passenger door open and turned to see her climbing out, tugging her coat tighter around herself as the snow began to drift down in lazy flakes.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, frowning as she approached.

“Coming to help,” she replied simply, her boots crunching against the snow as she reached his side.

“You should get back in the truck,” he said, gruffly but not unkind. “You’ll get sick out here.”

She raised a brow, crossing her arms. “The same could be said for you.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, already crouching to pull the jack and wrench from the toolbox in the bed of the truck.

“Bucky,” she said softly, stepping closer. “You’re not fine. I know your arm’s bothering you.”

He froze briefly, before resuming his task without looking at her. “It’s nothin’. Just the weather messin’ with it.”

“And you were going to say something, when? she retorted. “Let me help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He shook his head, gripping the jack with his good hand and positioning it under the truck. “I’ve got it,” he said, firmly. “Go sit in the truck where it’s warm.”

“Bucky,” she pressed, kneeling beside him despite the cold seeping through her jeans. “Stubborn man, you’re in pain, you’re not fooling me.”

He shot her a sideways glance, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I’m not lettin’ you freeze your ass off out here. Go inside.”

She reached out, placing a hand on his arm, not the one that ached, but the other, steady and sure. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly.

His jaw clenched, and his resolve flickered as her words settled over him. Finally, he sighed, easing the tension in his shoulders just slightly. “Fine,” he muttered. “You can hold the damn flashlight.”

She smiled, leaning up to press a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing the flashlight from the truck. As she illuminated the work area, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath.

The flat tire took longer than it should have. His left arm ached like a bitch, and each motion was a reminder of the puzzle of titanium and bone that would never quite work the way it used to. He tried to power through, determined to manage on his own, but his movements grew slower and more strained.

“Here, let me help,” she said softly, stepping forward as he struggled to lift the wheel into place.

“I got it,” he gritted out, but his grip faltered just enough for her to step in, steadying the weight with him.

It stung more than he cared to admit, her intervention feeling like a bruise to his pride. Once the wheel was finally secured, he tightened the lug nuts in silence, his mood darkening with every passing minute.

By the time they climbed back into the truck, the snow was falling heavier. The heater hummed softly, but the tension in the cab was palpable.

Bucky stared sternly at the road, gripping the wheel as his mind spiraled. The sting of the cold on his bare hands, the ache in his arm, the fact that he hadn’t been able to handle the damn tire without her help, it all gnawed at him, feeding the deep-rooted insecurities he tried so hard to bury.

“You okay?” she asked gently, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, not looking at her.

She hesitated, scanning his profile. The stiffness in his posture, the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the wheel like it might slip from his grasp, she knew he wasn’t okay.

“Do you want some coffee?” she offered, lifting the thermos she’d packed. “It’s still warm.”

“No, thanks,” he replied, clipped.

She frowned, and her concern grew as the silence stretched on. His hands, red and raw from the cold, caught her attention, and she wondered if the pain had worsened.

“Bucky,” she said softly, “do you want me to drive? Your hands must be hurting after working in this weather without gloves.”

That did it.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his jaw locking as the words struck a nerve. He knew she meant well, but the offer felt like a confirmation of everything his mind was already whispering, that he wasn’t enough. That he couldn’t even take care of something as simple as a flat tire without help.

“I said I’m fine,” he muttered tensely.

She bit her lip, sensing the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior but unsure how to reach him. “It’s not a big deal,” she tried, her tone gentle. “We’re in this together, remember? There’s no shame in letting me help.”

His grip tightened further, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “I said I can handle it,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration he hadn’t meant to direct at her.

He drove silently, fixing his gaze on the snow-dusted road ahead, while his mind churned with doubts. He hated the way he’d snapped at her, hated that she’d seen him struggle. Most of all, he hated the nagging voice in the back of his head, whispering that maybe he wasn’t enough for her.

---

The rest of the trip passed in silence. She had shifted slightly toward the window, leaning her shoulder against the door, with her gaze fixed on the snow-covered forest rushing past. The quiet wasn’t oppressive, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

Bucky’s grip on the wheel loosened. He hadn’t meant to snap, but the words had come out sharp anyway, cutting through her concern with the jagged edge of his pride.

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as guilt settled in its place. She’d only been trying to help, and he’d let his frustration get the better of him.

At some point, the need to bridge the growing chasm between them grew too strong to ignore. He cleared his throat softly, his voice came low and gruff as he murmured, “A little coffee sounds nice now.”

There was no answer.

Frowning slightly, he glanced over at her, ready to apologize. But the words caught in his throat when he saw her.

Her head rested lightly against the window, her eyes closed, breathing softly and even. She’d fallen asleep.

Of course, he thought, with a pang of guilt. It was late, the air outside was cold, and to top it off, he hadn’t even been good company. He’d acted like an idiot, stewing in his frustration instead of appreciating the woman who had braved the freezing weather just to help him.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in the soft curve of her lips and the way her lashes rested against her cheeks. She looked peaceful, and the sight tugged at something deep inside him, making him tighten his grip on the wheel.

He returned his focus to the road, clenching his jaw briefly as he wrestled with the mess of emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t undo the way he’d acted, but he could make up for it. For now, he’d let her rest, keep her warm and comfortable.

----

As the cabin came into view at last, tucked into a small clearing in the snow-dusted forest, Bucky frowned slightly. It was smaller than he’d expected and not exactly what you’d call visually appealing. The roof looked like it hadn’t been repaired in years, the paint on the shutters was peeling, and the porch sagged just enough to make him hesitate about stepping on it.

He sighed quietly, chastising himself for being so quick to judge. Focus on the goal, he thought. Time alone with her. No neighbors. No interruptions. That’s all that matters.

She stirred beside him as he turned off the engine, and her eyes fluttered open. She sat up quickly, stretching as she glanced at him. “Oh, sorry I fell asleep,” she murmured, her voice still a little thick.

He shook his head, brushing off her apology. “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I was... a grump. Didn’t mean to ruin the start of the trip.”

She tilted her head, and her gaze softened as a small smile tugged at her lips. “You didn’t ruin anything, Buck.”

He gave her a faint smile in return before glancing back at the cabin. “Let’s get inside,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

Getting the door open was another matter entirely. The old lock protested against his attempts, creaking and groaning as he jiggled the key. After a few muttered curses and a bit of elbow grease, the door finally swung open with a loud creak.

He stepped inside first. He’d fantasized that even if the cabin looked old on the outside, the inside would be a pleasant surprise, something rustic but cozy, maybe with modern upgrades to make up for the exterior.

No such luck.

The interior was just as outdated as the outside. The furniture was mismatched and worn, the wallpaper was peeling in places, and the lighting was dim at best. The faint smell of wood smoke lingered in the air, and the fireplace looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

Bucky stood in the center of the small room, crossing his arms as he took it all in. He’d definitely be having a chat with Sam about this cousin of his when they got back.

But for now, he had to find something positive to say, even as the disappointment tugged at the corners of his mind. He glanced back at her as she stepped in, brushing her hands over her arms to warm up.

“It’s... clean,” he finally said, feeling the words awkward as they left his mouth.

She blinked at him, then looked around, and her lips twitched as she fought back a laugh. “Clean, huh?”

He shrugged, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Let’s see... also it’s got four walls and a roof. That’s somethin’, right?” He sighed, glancing at the dingy fireplace. “I’ll start the fire.”

She smiled softly, setting her bag by the door. “I’ll grab the luggage,” she announced, turning toward the truck.

“Wait,” he called, already stepping toward her. “I can-”

“Nope,” she cut him off, spinning on her heel to face him, hands on her hips. “Don’t even start, James Buchanan Barnes.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t be out in this snow. It’s freezing.”

“Exactly,” she retorted, pointing at him. “Which is why you’re not going out there either. Your arm’s already giving you trouble, and I’m not about to let you make it worse.”

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, but she wasn’t having it.

“Fine, huh?” she shot back, raising a brow. “Last I checked, we’re not living in the caves anymore. You don’t have to do everything yourself. I’m perfectly capable of hauling a couple of bags.”

“Darlin’-” he started, but she stepped closer, resting her hand lightly on his chest.

“Bucky,” she said gently. “Let me do this. You’re not proving anything by pushing yourself in this weather. Just... let me help, okay?”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as his eyes searched hers. He hated the thought of sitting idle while she did the heavy lifting, but the concern in her gaze gave him pause. Finally, he sighed, slightly slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But take it slow.”

“Always do,” she said with a small smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door.

-----

Starting the fire was proving to be yet another test for Bucky’s patience. He muttered a string of curses under his breath as the stubborn logs refused to catch, the kindling only sputtering weakly before fizzling out. At this point, he was starting to wonder if this whole thing was part of some hidden camera prank, because damn.

She had reentered the cabin while he was still wrestling with the fireplace, carrying their luggage and moving quietly so as not to disrupt his focus -or, more accurately-, his battle with the firewood. She unpacked their belongings in the small bedroom, making the best of the limited space and creaky furniture.

When she finished, Bucky was still hunched over the fireplace, furrowed brows and lips set in a grim line of determination. Suppressing a smile, she decided to let him be, for now, heading to the kitchen instead.

The tiny space was quaint, with mismatched cabinets and appliances that looked older than she was. She busied herself getting familiar with it, unpacking their groceries, and pulling out a few ingredients for dinner.

After a while, she peeked through the kitchen doorway to check on him. He was sitting back on his heels, rubbing his elbow absently, clearly, the ache in his arm was getting to him. The fireplace remained cold and unlit.

She sighed. She knew a direct approach wouldn’t do any good, not when his pride was already bruised. Instead, an idea formed in her mind, and she couldn’t help the mischievous grin that crept across her face.

“Um, Buck?” she called, with a note of uncertainty. “Can you come here for a second? There’s something about the water heater I don’t understand.”

His head snapped up, furrowing his brows as he stood and brushed off his hands. “The water heater? What’s wrong with it?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied, feigning confusion as she poked her head out of the kitchen. “I just need you to take a look.”

Without hesitation, he crossed the room. “Alright, let’s see what’s goin’ on.”

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, she turned to face him, with wide, innocent eyes. He barely had time to notice that nothing in the room seemed out of place before she stepped forward, grabbing him by the front of his sweater and gently pushing him back against the counter.

“What the-” he started, gruffly with confusion as his ass hit the edge of the counter.

Her hands slid up to rest on his chest, and her fingers curled into the fabric as she looked up at him with mischief. “Gotcha,” she said softly, with a playful smile tugging at her lips.

He blinked, arching his brow as he realized he’d been ambushed. “This ain’t about the water heater, is it?”

“Not even a little,” she admitted, tilting her head as her grin widened.

His lips twitched, quirking upward despite his earlier sour mood. “You think you’re clever, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, leaning closer, and pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw. “Now, let me make you a deal.”

He arched a brow. “I’m listenin’.”

“You come to sit down and rest that arm of yours,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “and I’ll take care of the fire.”

“You?” he asked, his voice skeptical but not unkind.

“Me,” she replied confidently, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Trust me, Buck. I’ve got this.”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as he weighed his pride against the undeniable ache in his arm. Finally, he exhaled a slow breath and nodded. “Alright,” he muttered gruffly, but his tone was tinged with reluctant gratitude. “But if you need help-”

“I’ll call for my big, strong lumberjack,” she teased, brushing another kiss against his cheek before stepping back toward the fireplace.

The thing was, she’d anticipated this exact scenario. Having grown up with the conveniences of city living, she’d given in to her practical instincts at the general store and bought a couple of ignition discs, just in case. No fuss, no frustration. Just place them under the wood, light them, and voilà.

She crouched near the hearth, arranging the wood carefully before sliding one of the discs into place. With a quick flick of the lighter, the flame caught instantly, spreading evenly and licking at the dry kindling.

Behind her, she heard the sound of a chair scraping softly against the floor. She glanced back to find Bucky standing there, arms crossed, one brow quirked as he watched the flames come to life.

“Couldn’t you, you know… have told me sooner you had those?” he asked, with a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation.

She straightened, dusting her hands off on her jeans as she met his gaze deadpan. “Well, you weren’t exactly in the mood for more interventions earlier.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his lips tugged into a wry, self-aware smile. “Fair point,” he muttered, slumping his shoulders slightly. “I’m sorry... again.”

She stepped closer, brushing her hand lightly against his arm. “It’s okay, Buck. We’re here now. Fire’s going, and we’ll be warm in no time.”

He nodded, easing the tension in his posture as he let out a slow breath. “Alright,” he glanced toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you let me take care of dinner? You’ve already done enough. I’ll check it, stir it, and whatever else it needs.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, cutting her off before she could get the words out.

“And you,” he continued, his tone firm but warm, “are going to take a shower and relax. You’ve done more than enough already.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, her hands resting on her hips. “Bucky, I don’t mind helping finishing-”

“I know you don’t,” he said, stepping closer and dipping his head to meet her gaze. “But I want to do this. You’ve been running around taking care of everything since we got here. Let me handle this, darlin’.”

Finally, she let out a soft sigh, quirking her lips into a faint smile. “Alright, fine,” she relented.

With that, she headed toward the small bathroom, and soon the faint sound of falling water filled the cabin. Bucky moved to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he inspected the bubbling pot on the stove. He stirred it slowly, tasting the broth and deciding in record time it was ready. With a satisfied nod, he turned off the burner, set the lid in place, and leaned against the counter for a moment, letting the warmth from the stove soothe his thoughts.

She wasn’t the only one who got to pull sneaky moves, he decided, and he figured it was about time to even the score.

Quietly, he walked toward the bathroom, his footsteps oh so soft against the wooden floor. As he moved, he peeled off his sweater and undershirt, letting them fall into a pile near the bedroom door. His boots and socks followed, then his jeans, until he was down to nothing but a faint smirk as he reached the bathroom door.

The faint creak of the hinges went unnoticed, her voice carrying softly over the sound of the running water. She was singing along to a tune playing on her phone.

The flimsy shower curtain barely masked her silhouette, and he stepped closer, his shadow looming behind it as he reached for the edge.

She didn’t notice a thing, too lost in her song to hear the quiet rustle of the curtain rings sliding along the rod.

Until he stepped in.

“Bucky!” she squeaked, spinning around as the cool air rushed in with him.

He grinned, utterly unrepentant as he crowded into the small space, warm water splashing over his chest. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save some water. Also, thought you liked surprises, like that little ambush in the kitchen” he murmured, as his hands found her waist, pulling her closer under the spray.

Before she could come up with a witty response, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His touch was unhurried but thorough as his hands started to explore the soft, already-soaped curves of her body with an ease that made her toes curl.

She gasped softly against his mouth, curling her fingers instinctively into his damp hair, pulling him closer. Bucky,” she murmured between kisses, though the protest in her tone was faint.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then down the column of her neck, leaving a warm path against her slick skin.

“This is...” She paused, her words faltering as his hands slid lower, steadying her against the slippery tiles.

“This is me,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly, “making up for being an ass earlier.”

A soft laugh escaped her, while her breasts brushed against him as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. “This how you apologize?”

He smiled, tracing lazy circles against her hip with his thumb. “Depends,” he drawled. “You acceptin’ it?”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a slow, teasing smile as her fingers trailed down his chest. “Hmm,” she mused, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know... You were kind of a grump earlier.”

His smirk faltered just slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Yeah,” he admitted softly, his hand tightening gently on her waist. “I was.”

Her heart softened at his honesty, her teasing tone giving way to something gentler. “You know, all you had to do was talk to me,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly up over his collarbone.

“I know,” he murmured, lowering his gaze for a moment. “I just... get in my head sometimes. Don’t mean to take it out on you.”

She cupped his jaw, guiding his eyes back to hers, brushing her thumb against the faint stubble on his cheek. “I know that, Buck. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself. I’m here. Let me be here, okay?”

He held her gaze and slowly he nodded, leaning into her touch. “Okay,” he whispered, the word heavy with unspoken gratitude.

Her smile widened, and she leaned up to press a soft kiss on his lips. “Good,” she murmured against his mouth.

When she started to pull back, he caught her by the waist, his half smile returning as he lowered his voice to a playful murmur. “Still haven’t said if you’re acceptin’ my apology, though.”

She laughed softly, sliding her hands back up to his shoulders. “I guess I could be persuaded.”

“Persuaded, huh?” he murmured, leaning in until their foreheads brushed, his lips barely a breath away from hers. “Guess I better try harder.”

“That so?” she whispered, her voice trembling with amusement and anticipation.

“Mm-hmm,” he rumbled, sliding his hands up her slick back, pulling her closer under the warm spray. “Wouldn’t want to leave any doubt.” He captured her mouth and fisted her hair with one hand, while the other roamed down her back to squeeze the curve of her ass. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, nipping and sucking at her sensitive skin. “Think I can convince you?” he breathed against her ear, as he started to grind his hardening cock against her stomach.

“Uhuh, for starters you were the one who booked this cabin for us to be alone. That adds some points.” She conceded, biting her lip.

“Let’s see if I can score some more”. With a sudden move, he spun her around, pinning her against the tile wall. The cool surface of the tiles against her nipples contrasted sharply with the heat of his body at her back, and she shivered.

She gasped, feeling his full awakened cock pressing against her, as the water drippled over their bodies. "Such a naughty lumberjack" she teased, arching her back slightly to grind against him. “To think you get all flustered and awkward on a daily basis, and then…”

“...and then I let loose like this” he growled, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding his thick length against her ass. He slid up a hand to flick his thumb over one of her nipples as he leaned in to nip at her neck. “Guess I've got two sides to me, sweetheart”. His free hand slid down to cup her pussy possessively, spreading her open and rubbing his fingers on her wet folds.

“Yes, you do" she moaned, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. "I love both sides of you, Buck. The sweet, grumpy boyfriend, and the passionate lover". She rocked her hips into his touch, soaking his fingers with her slick. "Please” she whined, pressing her rear against his aching cock.

He groaned at her words and bit down gently on her neck. “Patience, darlin’. We’ve got all night” he rasped, even as his fingers continued their torturous dance, circling her clit before dipping inside her. As much as he wanted to bury himself balls-deep in her right now, he also craved the slow burn of building pleasure between them. He knew just how to tease her, how to make her squirm and beg without ever quite reaching the edge. “Look at you, so wet and needy already”, he praised, adding a third finger to stretch her further as he pumped them in and out of her tight heat. “Tell me what you want, sugar”

“Oh god, Bucky please...” she pleaded, riding his hand shamelessly, chasing her release, desperate for friction, for more penetration, for anything that get her closer to-

With a low chuckle, he withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty and aching. He turned off the shower and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her out of the bathroom and towards the creaky bed awaiting them. As he laid her down, a little rougher than intended, he stood at the foot of the mattress, raking over her splayed form with appreciation. A smug smile curved his lips as he watched her squirm restlessly, trying to close the distance between them. “Not yet, sweetheart” he crooned, his voice husky with promise. “First, I need to taste you.”

Her body thrummed with pent-up desire as she gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Her pussy clenched at his words, and a whimper escaped her parted lips. "Please, Bucky" she begged, spreading her thighs wider in silent invitation.

His gaze dropped to her exposed folds, and he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to plunge straight inside her. Instead, he crawled onto the bed and leaned down, dragging his tongue up her slit, to swirl it around her needy clit.

She cried out, and her back arched off the mattress as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more contact. He hummed in approval and repeated the motion, increasing the pressure and speed as he worked her higher. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her still as he feasted on her, alternating between gentle laps and firm sucks on her clit. Just when she teetered on the edge, he pulled back, leaving her panting and desperate. “So close, aren't we, darlin’? With a wicked grin, he positioned himself between her thighs, the broad head of his cock nudging her entrance. Ready to leap?”

“If this is your way to ask for apologies, let me tell you-“ she was interrupted by his thick length spearing into her in one smooth stroke, making her cry out.

He stilled for a moment, savoring the sensation, before slowly withdrawing until just the tip remained inside her. Then, with a powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt once more. This time, he set a relentless pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her entire body. “Take it, sweetheart. Take everything I've got for you,” he groaned, as the headboard collided dangerously against the wooden wall again and again.

"Yes yes yes!!" she screamed as he struck her sweet spot repeatedly, digging her nails into his back as her inner muscles clenched wildly around his thickness. She was so close, the tension inside her building to a fever pitch, until finally, she came undone beneath him, milking his cock as he continued to thrust, prolonging her ecstasy. ”Bucky! Oh god, Bucky!”

“Gonna fill you up, darlin’”, he snarled, snapping his hips faster, going deeper as he neared the edge. “Fuck, you're squeezing me so good. So fucking tight and wet, just for me.” He praised, each word punctuated by a harsh slap of flesh against flesh. “Can't hold back anymore baby, I gotta-”. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let go, emptying himself inside her willing pussy. For several moments, he remained frozen, savoring the sensation, until finally, with a soft groan he collapsed on top of her, his body heavy but comforting as his chest heaved against hers. His damp hair clung to his cheeks, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

After a long quiet stretch, she brushed her lips against his temple, “Hey.”

He grunted in response, low and muffled against her neck.

“How’s your arm?” she asked, brushing her fingers gently over his shoulder, breaking through the haze of contentment.

Bucky didn’t answer right away. He shifted slightly, lifting his head just enough to meet her eyes. His blue gaze was soft, still clouded with lingering post-coital bliss and a flicker of surprise there too, as if he hadn’t expected her to bring it up now.

“’S’ fine,” he said, “Doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

“You sure? No lying to me, handsome.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shifting his weight as he propped himself up on his forearms. “I’m sure,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly. “You’re good at distracting me.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she shook her head. “Bucky,” she said softly, her tone turning serious. “I mean it. If it’s hurting, you need to let me know.”

He sighed, dropping his forehead against hers. “It’s alright,” he promised, his voice more earnest now. “Doesn’t hurt like it did earlier. Just... aches a little.”

“Alright,” she said, brushing her fingers soothingly along his arm. “Because maybe I’ve packed some oil for a sexy massage... just in case you needed it.”

Bucky froze for a beat, raising his brows slightly as he lifted his head to look at her. The surprise in his expression quickly gave way to a bloomed blush. “Oh, yeah?”

She grinned, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. You know, for emergencies.” she added teasingly.

“Emergencies,” he repeated.

She nodded, keeping her expression straight despite the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Of course. A good partner always thinks ahead. But I don’t see you very into it, maybe you don’t wanna-”

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbled promptly, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him so she sprawled across his chest. “I’d be a fool to turn down an offer like that.”

“Smart man,” she teased, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips before slipping out of bed to rummage through her bag. “Stay put, honey.”

He ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t quite hear. When she turned back, bottle in hand, his gaze darted to it briefly before flicking back to her face, with a mix of amusement and lingering flustered disbelief. “Darlin’ you spoil me too much”

“Oh, and I plan to keep doing so. Now, roll over and relax.” She playfully ordered. When he complied, she straddled his waist. Her hands started moving expertly over his skin, spreading the warmed oil on his shoulders and upper back and the tension in his muscles slowly began to melt away as her thumbs pressed into the knots, working them loose with deliberate care.

He let out a low, contented groan, turning his head slightly to rest on his folded arms. “Really, you didn’t have to go all out like this,” he murmured, but even he faintly protested, his voice was thick with relaxation.

“Oh, I definitely did,” she teased lightly, moving her hands to his biceps, carefully avoiding his left elbow.

As her hands continued their soothing path, he silently thanked whatever twist of fate had brought her into his life.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #Lumberjack!Bucky

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thefrontmanscockwarmer · 2 days ago

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Ruined

Player 001 x reader [SMUT]

Masterist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Note: takes place during season 1, bc the marble games seemed so prefect for him. Also remember that Korea currency is LESS than American currency.

“Come on (y/n)” young il pulled at your jacket sleeve. You asked him to wake you right as you had to get up for the next game.

“Ughhh, I don’t wanna” you whined.

“(Y/n)(l/n), get out of this fucking bed or I swear to all things earthly, I will drag you by your fucking hair”

“Mmm, you’re gonna pull my hair?” You smile.

“(Y/n) let’s go, come on” he says. You reluctantly get up, dragging your feet as you did so. Scowling at him as he scowled back at you. “Don’t look at me like that”

“Like what?” You yawn and stretch

“Like you hate me. I’m your husband, you like having me around.” You and In Ho joined the games as an opportunity to have fun. Fortunately, this was right before the VIPs formally arrived. You and In Ho were just having some fun.

You passed Oh il Nam, remembering that he also joined the game, he was the that extended the invitation to you. The 3 of you had a one way ticket to freedom town after this game, as the next one was surely a matter of actual life or death (it was the glass bridge).

You and Young il split up to find 2 other players to be partnered with, as it would validate your ’deaths’ following il Nams steps.

You faked a loss at marbles, allowing yourself to get “shot”. You were allowed out of the game room and into the hallways on the outside of the isolated room. Tracking through the hallways you walked into yours and In Hos shared room.

Jumping into the shower and letting the past few days wash off of your skin. You took care of your basic needs, scrubbing your face and hair, removing the dried blood that was caked to your neck. Sighing with relief that you were finally clean. You put on your black silk robe and roamed your way into bed, setting up your skin care routine as tea boiled.

You comfortably sat reading your book, face mask on, tea setting to a perfect temperature when In Ho walked in.

“Hi honey” you said as he threw himself onto your thighs. “How’d your game go?”

“I hate my job.” He declared loudly. You played with his hair as he gripped your thighs, tightly. “You know not having you these past few days has been driving me crazy…” he trails.

“Shower first. I do not want 5 day old ball sweat anywhere near me. You’ll screw up my Ph balance” you say, eyeing him. He sighed dramatically. “Don’t be such an actor, go shower. You can indulge in me later.” Another dramatic sigh.

“Fine.” He said before kissing both of your thighs and getting up “You are so spoiled” he told you as he looked down at you. You smiled widely.

“Oh am I?”

“Yes, you are. Laying in silk sheets, in a silk robe, a ₩50,000 face mask, I bet, reading a book sighed personally by the author that I got you, and probably the most expensive tea someone in Korea could buy, laying in a ₩20,000,000 bed in a trillion won building” he lists. “With me, a man whose net worth is over ₩6 billion.”

“Ohhh my goodness, yes I’m so expensive” you feigned sadness.

“I’m gonna go shower. Care to watch me?” He teased, holding your dainty hand in his.

“Only if carry me to the bathroom” you say. He drops his head with a smile.

“Of course” he picked slid the blanket back, and picked you up, carrying you to the bathroom and gently setting you on the counter. He stood off to the side so he could look in the mirror, some blood was caked onto his collar and he had a streak that ran down his neck and onto his shirt.

He stripped as you watched him, his bare body being scanned by your calculated stare. He chuckled as he stepped out of his boxers.

“Like what you see?” He said with a cocky smirk. He stood between your thigh coming in for a kiss.

“I will after you shower” you say laughing as you pushed him back. He held your hand to his chest and kissed you quickly. Smiling as he moved away before you could slap his shoulder. He entered the shower, you could deny, he was gorgeous. The way water dripped down his abs, and how his hair stuck to his head.

“Use the exfoliation scrub, In Ho” you remind him. “You haven’t showered in like a week.”

“Yes, my love, I’m aware.” He replied, grabbing the container and showing you. The water turned off and he opened the glass door, wrapping a black towel marked ‘his’ on it. A wedding gift from your cousin. You stared at his body, his cock slightly hard and visible through his towel.

“Now, I love what I see” you say as he wraps his arms around, pulling you toward the end of the counter. He lays a kiss on your lips as he presses himself against you. A light hum left your lips. He chuckled into the kiss. Trailing down your neck to your collarbone, sucking and marking you as his.

“Am I allowed to indulge in you now?” He whispered, playing with your clit. He wasn’t asking, he was telling. Not having him for days was driving both of you insane, you were surprised you both made it that far without running off and fucking in a corner.

“Please do, Mr. Front man” you moaned, moving your hand to drop his towel. He wasted no time in pressing his cock into you. You moaned loudly as he did, he groaned into your mouth as your tongues danced together.

“God, I needed this” he says between kisses. He thrusted inside you, but differently than you expected. Not rushed, not rough, but in a love making, I miss you sort of way. “Fuck I love you” he said in your ear before attacking your neck.

“In Ho, I’m close” you whined.

“So am I. I’m so close (y/n)” he replies breathlessly fucking into you. He sped up, racing towards your climax, his threatening to burst. You heard a voice in your room.

“Oh, In Ho. Where are you?”

“Fuck, fuckkkk” he drawled quietly. His orgasm ruined, he looked at you before looking away wanting to avoid your of obvious frustration. Denied an orgasm, and it wasn’t even apart of the sex. He pulled his dick from you, a whine of dissatisfaction left you.

“Babygirl, don’t be upset with me” he said pulling on his towel. Grabbing his mask on the counter. “It’s my boss” he said leaving the bathroom. You followed behind him to see Il Nam standing in the center of your room.

“Ah, Ms. (L/n)” il Nam bowed. You retuned the bow.

“How are today, sir?” You ask. You had already seen him, but you knew better than to interact, you could see that he had a poor soul on the hook for failure.

“very well today, I am getting ready to go to the hospital and live my final days.” He exclaimed. There was no evidence of sadness in his voice, almost like he was happy to be gone. “Watch of Player 456, he has goodness in his heart. I hope he wins.” He says to you before turning to your husband. You turned away from the an walked towards the big screen on the far end of the room, turning it on to watch the rest of the players, Player 456 was shedding tears as he walked back to the common room. You faintly heard conversation:

“I am ready to go, In Ho.” The old man said. “Please meet me in my quarters when it is time to leave” you walked over and said good bye to il nam, vowing to visit him at the hospital when he was all settled in. he gave a gentle kiss on the cheek. In Ho held onto your waist, allowing you to remove his mask.

“I’m assuming there isn’t time now to finish what we started.” You stated lovingly.

“No, my dear, im afraid not. We are officially interrupted and our pleasure for the moment is ruined. I have to work” he says looking deeply into your eyes. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to continue the love making you were both so excited for, but work called.

“Come say good bye before you leave, wont you” you tell him, kissing his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

“ I will. And, I’ll be back to finish what I started with you” he winked before letting go of you and disappearing into the closet.

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nanenna · 2 days ago

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Warning: Implied bodily mutilation.

Okay, so remember how this prompt started and why Danny's dissociating hard enough he's in the next universe over? Kon gets a sudden, visceral reminder. UwU (Nothing graphic, all implied. This time)

-----

It was nice having all of Just Us together again, even if it was only for a pre-mission information gathering meeting. After contacting Wonder Woman about it this was now official League business, specifically JLD business. So here he, Tim, Cassie, and Bart were, sitting in one of the meeting rooms on the Watchtower across the table from Wonder Woman and John Constantine. Tim had a presentation all ready to go, including Danny’s drawings and one blurry photo he somehow managed to get of the boy, as he explained everything they knew so far.

“It does seem this boy is from an alternate universe,” Diana agreed as she looked at the star chart Danny had drawn compared to their own. It seemed about half the stars Danny had drawn were a match.

“And even if not, I can’t help search for him with this,” Tim said.

Diana looked over to Constantine.

“I would need to get a read on him, preferably after I get some supplies and get everything set up.”

Kon sighed, “I’ll talk to Ma and Pa. Promise you won’t do any damage to the house.”

Constantine held his hands up, “I’ll clean up after myself.”

“I’ll put together a rescue team,” Diana said.

Kon and his friends all frowned, “We’re already a team.”

“Kon will need to go since Danny already knows him,” Cassie pointed out. “And since we’re already a team we work best with each other.”

Diana nodded, “Alright, I and John will come with you as back up and to make sure we can make it home. We’ll make arrangements to get his supplies, in the mean time I think it’s best you start introducing Danny to others. Ma and Pa at the least.”

Kon nodded, “Sure, I can do that.” He stood up, since it sounded like the meeting was over.

“Before you lot go running off,” Constantine interrupted, “just wanna say not everything from Earth is human.”

Kon sat back down.

“You mean like us?” Cassie asked with a confused frown.

“Yes and no. There’s Amazons and Atlanteans, sure. But there’s also the Tuatha Dé Danann, Hulder, Vila, Kami, whatever you wanna call them.”

Kon had no idea what Constantine was talking about, he looked over to Tim. “The fair folk, or fairies. Like Morgaine le Fey.”

Kon nodded, he had some idea what Constantine meant now.

“Dream walking isn’t something many humans can do.”

Kon remembered something he hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. “Danny called me Nocturn, the Ancient of dreams. He thinks this is all a dream, I don’t think he even knows he’s astral projecting.”

“Right, so he could be fae and knows it, he could be fae and not know it, or he could be a human who managed to make friends with something that sounds like a fae lord. And depending on what it is it changes the rules of hospitality, so be careful about that.”

Tim sighed, “I’ll give them all the fae crash course.”

“The Bat is surprisingly correct and thorough on that.” Constantine sighed, then looked towards Kon. “Look, mate, I know you won’t like this but it might be best to let him think he’s still dreaming for now, just until we get him out of whatever situation is so bad it has him dissociating into the next universe.”

He was right, Kon didn’t like it.

✧✦✧

It had only been a day, Kon wasn’t expecting to see Danny again so soon. At first there had been a whole week between the first and second sighting, but they had been getting closer and closer together over the last couple weeks. Kon wasn’t sure if that meant he just didn’t always run into Danny or if he was actually astral projecting more often. But he hadn’t seen Danny two days in a row yet.

Except now he had.

Kon had finished explaining the whole situation to Ma and Pa, had helped them pick out which room in the big old farmhouse they would let Constantine borrow, and promised to introduce them to Danny the next he saw him. He’d previously told them about him so they could keep an eye out for him, but it seemed they hadn’t seen him yet. Kon was just heading out to the barn for evening chores when he saw a misty figure out in one of the fields. Kon had almost missed them, due to how misty the fields were with rain coming down, but he stopped and squinted and yeah, that was Danny.

“Hello,” Kon greeted as he approached.

Danny didn’t look over, keeping his face turned up and eyes closed. “I can almost feel it.” The rain was going right through him, leaving misty trails in his translucent body.

“At least you don’t have to worry about getting wet.”

“I miss it.”

That’s it, just miss it, not even a comment about how he wants to go stand in the rain when he’s awake.

“Would you like to come inside? Meet my Ma and Pa? I’ve told them about you.”

Danny did blink, looking over at Kon owlishly with his haunting green eyes. “I suppose I have been too lonely.” Danny lifted off the ground and drifted towards Kon, who also lifted into the air and started leading Danny towards the farmhouse.

“I’m not Nocturn.”

Danny looked over with one of his indulgent smiles.

“I mean it,” Kon said quickly. “I don’t want you to think I lied and said I was him when I’m not.” He may need to let Danny think he’s still dreaming, which technically he’s not wrong about, but Kon wasn’t going to try to pretend to be someone he’s never even heard of.

“If you say so.”

Kon sighed, he’d tried. They arrived at the house then, Kon carefully wiped off his shoes before going in. Danny didn’t have a lower half to bother with. “Ma, Pa, I have a guest.”

“Oh, is it one of your friends or did Diana and John finish their shopping trip already?” Ma asked as she walked into the room. When she spotted Danny she stopped and looked at him for a moment before smiling brightly. “You must be Danny, Conner’s been telling us about you.”

Danny looked up at Kon, “Conner?”

Kon shrugged, “Earth name.”

Danny just nodded, then turned back to Ma. “I am Danny, it’s nice to meet you.” He held a hand out, the arm attaching it to his body barely there.

Pa came in just as Danny introduced himself, then he gave the boy a hearty handshake.

“Well, can you eat?” Ma asked.

Danny shrugged and looked to Kon, who also shrugged. Danny turned back to Ma, “I can smell.”

Her mouth rolled into a thin line, “Well how about I make you a cup of hot cider and we can see how that goes.”

“Sure.” Danny followed Ma into the kitchen. He managed to pull out the chair himself to sit in it, legs still missing and hands barely a suggestion as they were folded in front of him on the table.

Ma set about pouring some of the cider they had into a pot to heat up. While that was going, she bustled around the kitchen gathering enough mugs for everyone.

Pa sat across from Danny at the table while Kon stood to the side, just watching her until she poured the steaming cider into the mugs. Kon picked up two of them and handed one off to Danny, while Ma gave Pa his.

“Thank you,” Danny said to both Kon and Ma when the mug was placed in front of him.

Interesting, according to Tim fairies were allergic to saying thank you. So either Danny was raised human and didn’t know he was a fairy, or he was a human and this was all Nocturn.

Danny closed his eyes and seemed to savor the long sniff he took of the mug he’d pulled closer to himself. “It smells so good.”

“Thank you,” Ma said proudly, taking a sip for herself.

Danny leaned forward and carefully picked up the mug, tipping it to take a sip. Cider splattered on the table. Danny frowned down at it.

Kon quickly picked up one of the kitchen towels and wiped the spill up. “That’s a bummer.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can make myself solid enough. It’s so weird, normally I have to try to not be solid.”

“Well I’m sorry you can’t eat,” Ma said with a sigh.

“It still smells really good.” Danny settled the mug in his hands to be cradled just under his nose.

No one seemed sure what to say to that. It was Pa that tried to change the subject. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself, Danny?”

“I’d rather not.”

Kon couldn’t help wincing, even said in Danny’s soft, dreamy voice that was a bit harsh.

Pa recovered, “Alright then, how about we tell you about the farm? It’s been a real nice year so far. The animals and crops are doing well.”

“It’s been easier since Conner’s been actually staying instead of just visiting,” Ma added.

“What?” Kon asked.

Ma tittered, “Since Danny showed up you’ve been staying the whole time instead of just visiting.”

“I visit every day!”

“You do,” Ma agreed with a wide smile. “Don’t change that it’s been lonely since Clark and Lois moved back to Metropolis, took little Jon with them.”

“They visit a lot too!”

“That they do,” Pa agreed. He gave Danny an exaggerated wink, “We’re real lucky our boys can make the time to come visit us so often.”

Danny smiled gently at Pa, “It does sound-”

Danny’s mug clattered to the table, spilling cider across it and splashing some on the floor. Kon moved to start cleaning it up when he realized why Danny’s mug had fallen.

Danny’s right arm was missing.

Danny looked down at it with his usual passive expression, “Oh, so that’s what that feeling was.”

“What?” Kon asked blankly.

“They’re gonna run outta limbs eventually.”

Kon looked over to Ma, who had her hands pressed over her mouth, and Pa, who was frozen half standing. Then he looked back to Danny, who was still frowning at his shoulder. “W-what?”

Danny looked passively up at Kon. “You already know what’s going on, it’s why you made this waking dream for me after all.”

Kon stared at the arm that wasn’t there, not even a misty hint.

Danny sighed and closed his eyes, a nearly invisible arm and hand reappeared and quickly became as solid (half at best) as the other hand. He picked up his fallen mug.

Kon thought about how Danny’s arms only seemed to be there half the time. He thought about how Danny’s legs almost never seemed to be there. Kon thought about how he wasn’t entirely sure what Danny’s face looked like besides his brightly glowing eyes.

Ma was already sopping up the cider with a kitchen towel, Pa was at the linen closet grabbing bigger towel. Kon was outside, crouched over in a squat with his fingers laced and pressing against the back of his neck. He heard Ma distantly shout for Clark, but he was too busy trying to get his breathing back under control to notice.

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc comics #superman #nenna writes #i've been excited to write this bit #can a kryptonian throw up?#doesn't matter kon's losing his lunch right now UwU #hey remember how danny's limbs have only half been there from the beginning?#Tee hee >:3c

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puddinrin · 1 day ago

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LADY BOSS! > Team Thanos x F!Reader

summary: being thanos and nam gyu's bestie since high school

pairings: abit of semi x f!reader (wlw because we all semi dick riders in the club + will write more about her in the next posts), platonic! thanos, nam gyu, min su & gyeong su x f!reader

warnings: talks of drugs, rehab, yk how it goes

a/n: semi semi semi semi semi semi semi i need to make out with her so bad. (name) is a fashion designer (i'm projecting hehehaha)

yk how even the most notorious gangster has a person they respect the most - yea that's what you are to thanos and nam gyu.

people wonder what did you do to get them to respect you like that

easy that's because you knew them ever since high school

it all started with a group project where your teacher purposely paired you up with both of them, in hopes you'll guide them since they were quote a "lost cause"

you wanted to pull your hair out.

but since you were a cool, demure and nonchalant like that, you decided to do what you could to get them to cooperate for the project.

"tsk, this is a waste of time." nam gyu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. you three were sat around your table when it was time to break into the groups you were paired into. thanos, who was still just choi su bong back then, leaned back against his chair staring into space.

you pursed your lips, before speaking. "well, let's get it done as soon as possible then. any ideas on what to do for this assignment?" the task of this assignment was to create some sort of advertisement for a product of your choice.

"no" "nope." they both replied in sync, uninterested to commit to this project at all.

"i'm a woman of patience. i'm a woman of patience" you said in your head like a mantra, trying hard not to leap across the desk and jump both of them and your teacher for pairing you up with them.

an idea then came up on your head. as cringy as it might sound but it might get thanos and nam gyu to participate in working with you to complete this project. "what about we create a rap music video for this?"

thanos and nam gyu sat up straight at the sound of that. "what do you have in mind, girl."

you got their attention now.

surprise or not. you three got full scores for this assignment

thanos came up with the lyrics, nam gyu produced the music beat while you directed the music video

"congrats, you two. how does it feel to get full scores for the first time in your life? i knew putting (name) in your group was a good idea." your teacher grinned rather smugly.

"no, sir. su bong and nam gyu were amazing themselves. they came up and produced the entire music video themselves. i just supervised from the sidelines." you said with a proud smile, patting their arm as you stood in the middle of them.

both of them looked at you, mouth slightly agape. for the first time in forever, they didn't need anything in their system to feel warmth in their heart.

you wouldn't have ever thought you would have fun spending time with the two troublemakers of your batch but you did

they did too.

when almost the entire school and everyone in their lives made them feel like a failure, you brought them a chance to shine.

"it doesn't matter if others look down on you. as long as you don't look down on yourself, you always have a chance to prove them wrong and slap them in the face." you told them, rather casually as you slurped on the bowl of udon.

you were treating them dinner that you promised if you guys got a good score for the assignment. damn, were you trying to make them all soft for you because it's working.

they're now part of the (name) protection squad.

thanos jokingly once called you their lady boss and they've been calling you that ever since

they would walk you back home after school, making sure you were safe especially when school ended late

would carry your bag for you too because their lady boss shouldn't have to do that!!

guys confessing to you? they have to go through them first

#brother you are scaring the hoes away

to more serious stuff such as them being addicts, they tried to hide the fact that they were until you found out after seeing the bruise on nam gyu's arm.

you tried your hardest, helping them to overcome their addiction

yes it wasn't easy, but they were trying too

overtime, they managed to stop after you convinced them to go for rehabilitation

after that their respect and love for you sky rocketed.

time skip to where you guys are in your twenties

they hate all your situationships/exes

they don't have to know what they did

#their lady boss can never do wrong

but if they have wronged you in any way they're on thanos' and nam gyu's hit list.

they've formed a band called 'black stones' (hehe) with their new friends they met in uni: semi, gyeong su and min su.

you unlocked the door to your two idiots' apartment, a plastic of take out food you bought for them and their bandmates you were going to meet for the first time.

"who are you?! don't just come in without knocking" the man who you later learned was gyeong su, pointed a finger at you.

while you just stood there like🧍🏻‍♀️holding the key in one hand and the bag of food in the other. like hello? i kinda live here in my free time too?

nam gyu knocked his head with his knuckle, scowling "don't disrespect our lady boss like that, you fuck!"

thanos skipped towards you, like a kid running towards his mom after spending his day at daycare. "aigoo, my highness, you should've gave me a call that you're here. i would've personally brought you up."

"i did. you didn't pick up."

he froze, before smiling sheepishly, taking the bag from your hand, settling it down on the counter. "well, now that you are here. we can introduce you to the others."

he then swung his arm across your shoulders, leading you to stand in front of the tv where the others were sitting around the coffee table.

your eyes drifted to the lady with short hair and piercings. the way she carried herself and that charming smile on her lips. damn, she's so your type.

"gyeong su, my boy. you gotta apologise to our lady boss, (last name) (name). no her, no me, no nam gyu. no me, no nam gyu, no black stones." thanos said, wriggling his finger at the said man who nodded before giving you a full 90 degree bow.

"i apologise for the disrespect, lady boss (name)!" gyeong su yelled, showing he was sincerely sorry. you couldn't help but cackle at that, waving your hands at him for him to get up. "you don't have to call me that just because those two stupid idiots does and please get up!"

semi was intrigued with you after that.

you must be one hell of a woman if you managed to get thanos and nam gyu to respect you like that.

and you were just her type too.

you and her are dubbed mama e papa of the team

they don't know you both made it official after a few months of getting to know each other though

you and semi found it fun to see how long will it take till they find out.

min su found out first but didn't say anything to the others because you roped him in into betting how long till the others realises.

when they found out

they acted as if you punched their grandmother in the throat and cooked their pet fish jeffrey for dinner.

"semi how dare you seduce our princess?!"

"(name), how could you?! i thought we were 4lifers we locked in. we're suppose to tell each other everything!"

"you guys can only hold hands when we're here! no lovey dovey stuff!"

semi proceeded to give you a big smooch on the lips in front of them, her hand then never leaving your hips.

you try to attend all of their performances but if you can't due to some plans you have to attend to, they always give you a shoutout at the end of them.

you're like their second manager. it's like your side hustle aside from being fashion designer.

they will wear your brand with pride and joy

it also makes your business boom 2x max

Posts that they will post:

> thanostone4u

liked by namgyu124 and 19k others

thanostone4u best gal 💪🏻

> namgyu124

liked by gyeongsuuue, semilw and 20k others

namgyu124 sister from another pussy

> blackstonesofficial

liked by thanostone4u, minsublackstone and 45k others

blackstoneofficial happy birthday to our precious lady boss! 😘🎉💕

#squid game #squid game x reader #thanos x reader #player 230 #player 194 #player 195 #nam gyu x reader #squid game season 2 #semi x reader #se-mi x reader #player 380 x reader #min su #gyeong su #player 380

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milla-frenchy · 1 day ago

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8k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you Warnings: 18+ mdni. ex lovers reunited, angst, mostly Joel pov, Joel can act cold out of defence mechanism, he has trouble accepting his own feelings, pining, slow burn, pet names (sweetheart, baby), semi public sex, just the tip, soft!joel, oral (f), piv, creampie. Pic for mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

a/n: this is written for @jolapeno 's dear-uary challenge (prompt here) thank you for this challenge Jo, and it was such a cool prompt 😍😍😍 Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for reading this one soooo many times 🥹😘💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

I sent you a script, tell me what you think tell me more just read it, trust me

The informal messages between Joel and his agent, Will, were usual. They had known each other for a long time, they were friends, and Will had always found him perfect roles.

So as always, Joel trusted him- even though the first page of the script, delivered to him by a courier, was not completely filled, making him wonder why.

In the evening he put his cup on the coffee table, and lay down on the sofa, a soft light lamp behind his head. With his back leaning against the cushions, shirt, jeans, bare feet. Always the same ritual, always the same setup, when he was about to read a new script.

He started reading it, taking a sip of coffee from time to time, until his heart leapt in his chest as he got to a particular scene.

He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank.

It could only be you.

That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.

that’s fucked up, Will

*Will calling*

“Yeah,” he grumbled as he picked up, without even trying to hide his feelings, then he got up to pace the room.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, Joel. But she’s a great writer and actress, you know it. We’ve been looking for a good drama movie for a long time. This one’s perfect.”

“It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

“Joel, listen to me and think about it. No one would know. And it can be therapeutic.”

“Thera… jesus, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Joel sighed as he hung up and threw his phone on the couch.

Why the fuck would Will do something so stupid and inconsiderate, giving him a script from you?

At the beginning of his career, his agent sent him one project for a movie in which you were expected to play too. Joel confessed that you two had been together, and added “you don’t bring her up. Ever,” to end the conversation. So Will never did.

Until today.

He sat back down on the sofa, resting his forehead on his fist, resisting the urge to throw the cup of coffee across the room. He was surprised by his own reaction, his nervousness. His anger. Barely able to control his emotions, he felt so weak, like his heart was about to tear in two again, swallowing him whole. He was affected, years later, as if it happened yesterday.

So, sure, a long time ago he asked Will not to talk about you anymore. But they might have been friends, his agent might have known about you, but he didn’t know the details. Didn’t know how profoundly the break up had hurt Joel, how much you had gotten under his skin, back then.

And in Will's defense, it wasn't like you never saw each other again, at parties or ceremonies, under Will’s gaze who thought that it wasn't that bad, after all. It was years after your separation, now having the job that both of you dreamed about, talked about, sweaty young adults in a messy bed where he had just made you come.

Will wasn't aware that it was actually that bad.

Because he didn’t know the way Joel looked at you, when you were together. He didn't know how sweet and caring Joel was with you. He didn’t know how much he loved wrapping his arms around you, and having you curl up against him.

He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more.

He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again.

Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.”

The first time you saw each other again, was in a place full of actors, agents, writers and directors.

You couldn't believe he was here, a few steps away from you. Of course, you knew you'd cross paths one day, but suddenly he was closer to you than he had been in years and you felt your heart racing. He was even more handsome than he was back then, if it was even possible. You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him.

But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal.

So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around.

It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up.

If you had looked up right away, you would have seen guilt sweep through his eyes. But when you finally raised your head, seconds later, he was on the other side of the room. The only thing you could see was his back, which he undoubtedly presented to you deliberately, as if his glare hadn’t been enough to make a point.

All evening, you struggled to keep conversations going, to concentrate, to think of anything other than his dark stare, furrowed brows, and the way he shook his head at you without any hesitation. For years, you had been wondering what he had thought of you, after those years. You just got the most brutal answer to that question.

The second time, a journalist had done some research and discovered that you attended the same university, graduated the same year. He took the opportunity to bring the subject as Joel was walking by. He probably hadn't seen you amongst all those people, because you were sure he would have gone the other way, otherwise. You didn’t have much choice than to kiss, feigning a friendly closeness that had never existed between you. You had been lovers, then strangers. No in-between.

His scent, so familiar, invaded your nostrils. He always wore the same perfume, the one you had given him for a birthday. It surprised you but you didn't have much time to think about it, as he ended the hug quickly.

Joel's eyes were shifty when you looked at him, a fake smile plastered on his lips. Which could probably seem real for people who didn't know him, but not for you. Not even years later. You answered the journalist's questions as best as you could, until Joel leaned towards to give you a hug that was as neutral as his eyes on you, cutting off the questions. Then he walked away, leaving you facing the journalist who was delighted with the exclusive material and oblivious to the unspoken scene that had happened in front of him.

Joel thought back to those two evenings, after he’d hung up on Will and before he’d put the script away in a drawer. He needed to regain control of his emotions, and to do that he couldn't continue reading your words, at least for now.

He went to the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee, and despite him trying, his mind wandered to lazy mornings where he would get up to make two coffees and then come back to the bedroom. He’d put them on the nightstand, before cuddling up to your warm body under the sheets, hearing you moan gently. Sometimes you would fall asleep in one of his shirts, and he loved smelling his scent on you, as if you were marked by him, somehow. It always made him feral, possessive. He didn’t know he had that side in him, until you.

You'd always grab his hand to kiss the tip of his fingers, before sliding them along your folds, feeling his cock harden against your ass and your pussy starting to drool. He would make you come with his digits, his lips against your ear, caged in his arms, then he'd slide his cock between your thighs and your soaked folds, just in time for your last spasms to squeeze his tip. Sometimes he would keep fucking you like that, lying behind you, and sometimes he would roll you on your back, taking his place between your thighs. Until he’d come, grunting, growling, his hair disheveled, and you often fall back asleep, his cock softening inside you, the cups of coffee cold on the nightstand.

He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

The next morning he woke up groggy. He put on a t-shirt and sweatpants, poured himself a cup of coffee, and put aside his good resolutions. He didn’t need the script to think about you, anyway. Time never healed his wounds, he never forgot you or the pain he had felt when you’d left. His thoughts were always hurtful, possessive and raw.

Even years after the break up he couldn’t help but think about you when his wrist fucked his shaft. Even sometimes when he was in a relationship. He hated himself for that but couldn’t help it. He missed your cunt, your hands, everything. But he couldn’t accept the idea that he was simply missing you.

He always thought that your bodies were made for each other, and you always breathed the same words. He knew you meant it, his cock buried in you, his eyes fixed on yours rolling to the back of your head and his ears filled with your moans, barely able to tell his name.

Until it was over.

He knew it could happen, you always told him that you'd have to leave for California one day in hope to live your dream, that you couldn’t do it in Texas. But he brushed it off, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to think about it. He hid it in a corner of his mind, until he had no other choice but to face reality. Until it hit him. That day, he realized that he wouldn’t get to wrap his arms around you for the rest of his life.

He lay down on the couch and started to read. And the more he read the script, the more he realized that you wrote only the moments that had really happened.

The story, background, was slightly different, probably so that no one could ever make a connection to the two of you. But the moments were real, and it made him dizzy.

You wrote that dance in your small apartment, first for the both of you, that you rented after graduation. You worked as a waitress and Joel was a barista, and you two went to as many castings in Austin as you could, dreaming every day about being actors.

That night you put on some music and danced. He kissed your hand and looked at you. He felt warm. He loved you so much that his heart was aching. He made you spin and you laughed, and it was like a spring breeze in the apartment, filling his lungs with fresh air. When you stopped twirling you brushed his hair and then kissed him.

The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

Over the next two days, he took the script out of the drawer regularly. Slowly touching the paper that already bore the marks of repeated handling, him lying on his couch, taking his time before opening it.

He read it all, and the sweetness, the sensitivity with which you described your moments moved him profoundly. The person he had loved, cherished, cradled in his arms, wrote that.

All the intimacy, the love and care you both felt for each other were there. For several years he made everything to forget the good moments, to focus only on the ending to feed his bitterness, but the fact was that there had been so many beautiful moments. And he could read them, feel them again. Couldn’t deny them anymore.

Your words were so familiar, so true to your love story, that his anger slowly gave some place to something else: nostalgia. Finally allowing himself to miss you and what you two had. He was still wondering why you had written the script and sent it to him, but now he was ready to learn the answer. And he wanted to look you in the eye when he’d ask you this question. But he wasn't sure how he’d behave, when you met. Didn't know if bitterness or nostalgia would fill his heart.

So after two days of silence, Joel picked up his phone and sent Will a message.

Ok, set up a meeting

Because of your busy schedules you could meet only in two weeks. The delay was driving him crazy.

He made a copy of the script, his copy, which he filled with annotations, dates. Underlining moments or words erased from his mind, out of grief, anger or self-protection.

He got hard several times, while reading some scenes. And sometimes anger would come back to creep into his thoughts, whispering to him that you never should have sent it to him, when your separation had been so painful for him.

And Will was not the only one Joel said “you don’t…. ever.”

To you, it’d been “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.”

That morning, as he got used to doing several times a day, he grabbed his copy of the script. He had handled it so much that the sheets were already damaged, some pages peppered with annotations.

As he was reading, he remembered how you had loved to run your fingers over his jeans when you were watching a movie on your little couch. Playing with him, your hand going higher and higher, just to hear his breathing slow down, just to hear him murmur a needy and low “sweetheart, what are you doing?”, making you smile widely. Knowing that he would manhandle you two seconds later to be under him, pulling your panties to the side and pushing his thick length into you. He remembered the feeling of your breasts against his chest, how you whimpered in his neck while he was fucking you hard and deep.

He was nervous the morning of the meeting. He took a shower, hoping to get rid of the fatigue and headache from the lack of sleep the night before. He put on a shirt and jeans and grabbed his car keys, put on some music when he started to drive, trying to change his mind, but it didn’t work, he was still anxious. He parked near the building. Once inside he found the meeting room and knocked on the door. He heard you say “come in” and took a deep breath before twisting the handle.

You were alone, sitting in a chair, and he quickly pushed aside the thought of how pretty you were. Joel immediately noticed your hands, pressed together nervously, before you stood up to greet him. He stopped when you walked towards him and your smile faded like that time.

“Wait,” he said, his hand raised in front of him, as he was trying to control his emotions. “I just… Why did you send it to me?” he added without any preamble, his tone harsher than he intended.

“Oh… ok. Straight to the point, huh?” you said, sitting back down, and removing an imaginary crease on your sleeve, eyes lowered to the desk.

“I never…” you started to say, before stopping and taking a breath. “I think I needed to write our story down.”

Joel’s sigh stopped you. You tried to keep a low and calm tone, not to show your anxiety. You knew that facing him wouldn't be easy. He had given you a glimpse of his coldness after the situation with that journalist.

“Joel, please, listen to me.”

You looked at him, and yet you had no idea how his name, escaping your lips, tore his heart apart. He never thought he’d hear it again, and the familiar intonation made him shiver.

“I honestly think it would make a great movie,” you said. “And you must think so too, since you’re here.”

“I don’t know why I’m here, honestly. Except that I want to know why.”

“Would you have preferred to discover it once the movie was out, your role played by someone else?”

His gaze on you, dark and possessive, made you freeze.

“No, I really wouldn’t have appreciated our story, my life, played by someone else, Jesus,” he growled.

He put his hands on his hips, a stance you’d seen him do dozens of times before, searching for words, and then he sat in a chair, pinching the place just above his nose with two fingers. Trying to stop the headache that was threatening to come again. It had started off badly, and he knew it was his fault. He was too stubborn, too cold.

“Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally.

“Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

“You?”

A part of him, that he thought was gone the day you had left, woke up with a groan. He couldn't imagine the movie being made, you playing... well, you, and him being played by another man. It was unthinkable and made his jealousy and possessiveness stir painfully in his chest.

Unlike you, he hadn't watched your movies. He tried though, when he saw your face on a movie poster for the first time. He went to the cinema, but he walked out of the theater the moment that actor leaned toward you to kiss you. He couldn't stand to see someone kiss you, when he couldn't do it anymore.

“I’m the best person to play this character, aren’t I?” you said softly, interrupting his thoughts. “Just like you’re the best one to play the male lead. Look, I know you’ve been rumored for a role like this for years. I know you’re not opposed to it. So why not?”

“Because it’s not about playing a role here,” he sighed. “It’s playing in front of a camera, things we said, did, years ago. Intimate things that belong to us.”

“I changed some things, no one has to know it’s autobiographical,” you started to say, before he quickly cut you off.

“I know it is. And so do you.” He walked over to the window to stare at the buildings in front of him. “When you leave someone, you don’t do that. It’s unhealthy,” he said, almost softly. Resigned. He turned to you before adding, “Why stir up something that died years ago?”

He didn't expect to face the sadness that clouded your face, and once again guilt seized him. You were sad, upset, and despite the bitterness he’d been feeling for years, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore,” you answered, standing up and walking towards him. You stopped a few steps away to respect his boundaries, before you'd see his body stiff. “I left because I had to follow my dream, and it wasn’t working in Texas. And you wanted to stay in Austin, to take care of Tommy. We ended it because a long-distance relationship would have been too painful, because I didn’t want us to be unhappy, barely seeing each other, not being able to feel each other often enough. So I left. And I told you all that. You knew it, you knew why.”

You took a breath, after formulating what was oppressing your heart, waiting for him to answer.

“Playing with feelings is dangerous,” he said in a low voice.

“This isn’t a game, Joel. I'm not playing. I’m sure it would make a great movie. And maybe we need to express all that, even years later.”

“Do you remember what I told you that day? The last day?”

“Of course, I do. You told me not to call you. You told me that if we had to meet again… then it would happen. Well, it's happening, Joel.”

He looked at you, confused, and headed towards the door, brushing past you lightly as he passed.

Just before leaving, without looking at you, he said in a low voice, “my agent will give you my answer in a few days.”

Once the door closed behind Joel, you remembered the day you left.

In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

At that moment you were wondering if you had made a mistake. You kept wondering for years. To be honest, you still weren’t sure you made the right choice that day. You followed your dream and succeeded, but it cost you the love of your life.

You didn't know what to think about the meeting. It could have been worse, he could have left after two minutes of being there, you knew it. You could have said more, too, but you didn't want Joel to withdraw more into himself. And for sure, you couldn't have told him that you always thought of him when you were in someone’s else’s arms. That you tried not to let jealousy invade you when you thought of his personal life, knowing that you had no right to be. You gave up on that when you had left.

You knew what he thought, how he reacted. Now he needed time to process everything, and you just had to wait for his agent to contact you. You couldn't do more.

Joel got to his car in a blur. He realized where he was only sitting behind the wheel, too many emotions swirling in his head. Years without seeing you and it had gone by at the speed of light. He blamed himself for being cold, blamed himself for not being cold enough, and he was even more lost than before he saw you. He started to drive, the feeling of having mishandled things weighing more and more on his shoulders.

He took another shower when he got home, as if it could wash off his remorse and regrets, the words exchanged playing over and over in his mind.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore.”

“I had to follow my dream. You wanted to stay in Austin. To take care of Tommy.”

“You knew it, you knew why.”

Did he really start to believe that the events had happened differently, after you left? Had he really done it, to the point of omitting certain things, because he needed someone to blame, to keep moving forward?

Had he really been that guy? Blaming you when there was no one to blame, just life and the choices that go with it, that we all have to do?

Had he really denied for years that you had left with a broken heart, too? That he had told you to never call him, after those wonderful years together? He felt like he was waking up with a monstrous hangover, and guilt gripped him. Truth is he let you down, and reality was hitting him hard.

Because you were right, you didn’t leave just like that. He didn’t want to acknowledge it for years, kept sweeping it under the rug, but deep down he didn’t forget it.

And you were right, he hadn’t been able to prioritize your relationship. Couldn’t prioritize himself either. He had always been protective of his brother, but it reached another level when he came back to Texas after being dismissed. Tommy wasn't the same, and Joel knew that he would have constantly wondered if his brother was okay if he had left for California with you. Worried that he could be in jail after a fight, with no one to bail him out. Or that he could be drunk in an alley, alone, spending the night there. Or worse.

“I can’t leave Tommy here alone, with all his drinking and partying,” he told you, expression determined.

“But you need to think about your future, our future too, Joel,” you replied desperately.

Joel had probably hoped that you wouldn’t have left, that you’d have chosen him, until the end. And you probably hoped the same thing, too.

Right person, wrong time. Fucking sad, but so banal.

So to forget that he was as responsible for the breakup as much as you were, he let his pain turn into anger, and he never let nostalgia set in, or his feelings show up.

And everything blew up when you sent him that script and he started reading it. It was impossible to continue to deny the obvious, to keep thinking that his feelings were stronger than yours and that’s why you had left. It was impossible to forget that he had told you, “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.” That he was the one who had cut everything off, once and for all. To protect himself, of course. But still.

So once you were gone, he did what he had to do, he took care of Tommy. Except that he started going to bars with him, at night. Drinking less than him, but still way too much. He took sleeping pills when he was obsessed with your absence, tired of squeezing your pillow way too tight in his fist, his jaw clenched with anger. He moved to a new neighborhood because he couldn't stand living in that apartment anymore where everything reminded him of you.

When they were children and then teenagers, Joel and Tommy’s father taught them to work with their hands, and it helped them to find jobs on construction sites. And that he finally pulled himself together and helped Tommy the way he had to. It took him months, but he did it, and his parents would be proud of him, of them, if they saw their sons.

He worked hard, kept doing castings when his work allowed it, and eventually it paid off, even if it took time.

He thought about it all, and realized he needed to see you again before deciding on the movie. Needed to behave normally, to let go of his mask. So he asked his agent your number, then texted you:

it’s Joel. Are you still in LA? I have some questions about the script can we meet again? I am. When do you wanna meet? tomorrow night, my place? I’ll cook Sure!

He took a deep breath as he sent you his address. He let his emotions take over on purpose, to dispel the bitter taste in his mouth since you saw each other. Now he had to trust them.

The next day he started to cook during the afternoon, the dish that he hoped was still one of your favorite. He knowingly chose to invite you over to his place, to keep his mind occupied at least while he was busy in the kitchen.

Once the dish was in the oven, he did a running session on his treadmill and showered.

Anything to keep his mind busy.

You arrived right on time, a bottle of wine in hand.

“You still like the white?” you asked.

He did. Some things never changed.

As you approached the kitchen it smelled so good that you stopped there.

“Still one of your favorite meals?” he asked.

It was.

You tried not to show that you were moved. Acts of service had always been his way of showing that he cared, and you weren’t expecting that when you showed up.

You sat down on a high stool in the kitchen and he opened the bottle of wine. You had a few sips, silently. Neither of you really knew what to say, at first. Then everything set into place, naturally, instinctively. A little shyly at first, bringing up things from your respective pasts, or present. You asked him how Tommy was doing, and he told you he was fine, that he was engaged to a woman named Maria and that they were going to be parents soon. You were happy for Tommy, sincerely. You had always liked him.

Joel was trying to act normally, to not pay too much attention to the ease with which you were chatting. How easily he opened up to you, telling you about his years in Austin, then his first ones in LA. His first roles, his doubts.

He was glancing at your hands when you weren’t looking at him. At your hair.

He loved to see your eyes shine when you were talking about something that was important to you.

But above all, he loved to see them sparkle the first time he made you smile, that evening. It hit him, how much he missed it. Making you smile.

His emotions were so familiar that his heart was beating a little too fast, like a horse freed from its reins.

And suddenly he wondered how he had been able to spend so many years without you by his side, when you had always been his sunshine, liberating his grumpy, reserved nature.

A part of his brain told him that he was smiling a little too much, but he felt more alive during those moments with you than he hadn’t been in so long.

Whether in a relationship or not.

And then he felt the atmosphere change, felt that you got nervous, an impression confirmed when you began to scratch your thumb. A habit that dated back years ago, and he'd always take you in his arms, kiss your thumb and tell you that he was there and that everything would be okay. Today, for the first time he couldn’t do all that.

“Are you ok?” he nevertheless allowed himself to ask.

“Yeah, it’s just… listen, I know you wanted to ask me about the script, but ehm... there’s something you need to know.” You took a deep breath before adding “there won’t be any movie if you don’t want to do it. If you’re not comfortable with it. I’m not saying this to put pressure on you, it's just… I just want you to know that your choice is completely free. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it, for whatever bad reason.”

“I appreciate that you’re telling me this, thank you,” he said, in a tone you couldn’t quite define, half defeated, half tender. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

“For what, Joel?” you asked questioningly.

“Yesterday. I didn’t really know how to handle all of it. Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed by a lot of emotions since I read the script. Including anger.” He didn't expect to tell you that, but the need was too much to bear. He needed to make things right.

“I know. I expected it to be complicated, after our two previous meetings,” you said, without animosity or bitterness. Just being factual.

He raised his eyebrows, as if to apologize, before continuing. “I wanted to apologize for that too. My attitude.”

“That’s your way of handling things, it always has been, I should have known. But I appreciate it too, thanks Joel.”

He nodded, then added “do you think we’ll be able to do it?”

“To do what?”

“Work together. To be coworkers on a movie?”

He saw your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you took the time to think before answering.

“Well… the evening’s going pretty well, right? You haven't shook your head at me yet, to show me the door.”

“Ouch!” he replied exaggeratedly.

“Too soon?” you asked, lips curled into a smile.

“A little,” he laughed.

He enjoyed it, that little moment. You’d had so many of them before.

“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen?” he wanted to ask.

“Aren’t you afraid of reliving things, that I’ll fall madly in love with you again and that the scenes we’ll shoot, my acting, will just express the reality of my feelings?”

But he couldn’t ask you that.

He wanted to ask you if you had sent him the script because you still had feelings for him, but he couldn’t say that either.

“It’ll be a low budget movie. I mean, if we do it,” you said. There’ll be some outdoor scenes but not that many. Not many other actors either. It won’t be a long shoot.”

He nodded and said, “can I give you my answer in a couple of days?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Thanks for the meal, it was delicious,” you said as you stood up. “You can text me if you have any questions.”

He thanked you and you complimented him on his house as you put your coat back on. His taste hadn’t changed. The rooms were simply decorated. As you walked toward the front door you glanced inside one of the rooms, and saw a table with a wooden sculpture on it.

“Oh my god, Joel? You still do the carving?”

“Oh… well… yeah. I never stopped.”

“Can I?” you asked.

“Sure,” he opened the door and you slipped through the gap, brushing past him lightly as you passed and you had goosebumps at the familiar scent. Still the perfume you had gifted him once. Reassuring. After all these years, instantly, it was there. Enveloping you.

You approached the table and leaned over a piece he was working on, admiring the figurine that was being carved. A rodeo cowboy on a bucking horse.

“Wow, Joel… you were already very good at this back then, but now it’s incredible. The level of detail is mind-blowing.”

You looked at the shelves, covered with other sculptures. You approached them: bears, deer, wolves, rabbits.

“This is really amazing, you’re so talented. And… Do you still play guitar?”

“Sure,” he answered, nodding at a guitar case. “I usually play in the dining room. My guitars are over there. This one needed a little TLC. I just got it back. It’s… well it’s the one you gave me.”

You looked at him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“You kept it?” you asked, trying to hold back your emotions.

“ ‘ course I did.”

You nodded, your throat tight.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you said. “Tell me about the movie, ok?” You looked at him hesitantly, but when he leaned towards you and wrapped his arms around your torso, your eyes closed at the feeling, so familiar, before you pulled away, told him good night and left.

Driving your car, you replayed the images of the evening in your mind. Of course, you had felt his gaze on you several times during the evening. And sometimes you could see Joel again. Your Joel.

Did he think about you as much as you thought about him? Did he suspect that you had sent him this script in the hope of getting back in touch with him? Did he know how much you missed him, all those years?

You had wondered so many times if he had been thinking about you. You thought about the hug, as comforting as before. You missed him so much.

Two days later, he texted you

“I’m in”

He kept looking at his phone after sending the message. The read indicator appeared quickly, then the writing bubble.

“Great, I'm so glad! I’m sure it’s gonna be amazing!!”

He hoped it would be. Hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

He had to leave LA for several weeks for a shooting, and the organization of the film was put in place.

You sent each other a few messages in the next few days. Then the messages became more and more regular, while remaining purely friendly.

Several months later, the day before the shooting started, he knocked on your trailer to say hello.

You had rehearsed some scenes with the crew, and everything was ready.

The less emotional scenes were shot in the first few days. He didn’t ask for it, but he was glad. Every night he came back to his trailer, played the guitar, and thought about you.

Seeing you every day was a very strange thing that he had trouble to define. He was happy to see you every day, to see the person you had become. And sad that you were no longer his. Filming these moments with you was like constantly reopening a wound that had never really healed.

That night, he took out the script, and reread the scene planned the next day.

EXT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He parks downstairs at their apartment, it’s dark. He knows she’s back from a week at her parents’. He’s eager to get home and see her again, he’s missed her. He quickly climbs the outside stairs and unlocks the door. INT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He puts his keys on the hall cabinet, takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. We follow him as he walks in the apartment, until he sees her in the doorway of the dining room. He smiles, we see love in their eyes as look at other. HER Hey baby He goes to her, they kiss, he takes her in his arms. She closes her eyes. HIM I missed you, baby. He brushes her cheek with his thumb. HER I missed you too. She takes his hand and leads him to their bedroom.

He stopped reading there, before the next scene, that was the most intimate, the one that made him anxious just to think about.

“I missed you, baby,” he said the line. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, like he had done so many times before. His eyes were fixed in yours. He wondered if he was imagining what he was reading in them.

“I missed you too.”

You took his hand and you headed out of the frame.

“Cut, it was perfect, guys! Go get ready for the next scene.”

He picked up his water bottle and took a sip. He felt dizzy.

You were both wearing underwear and bathrobes. Waiting to shoot the scene.

“Ok guys, you’re ready? Great, let’s go.”

The scene was a close-up of both of your faces during a sex scene, at night. You lay down on the bed first, after taking off your robe. He took off his too and lay down between your thighs.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” you smiled.

“Action!”

You started to kiss, tongues quickly brushing against each other. His hands cupped your cheeks as he rolled his hips towards you slowly, careful that your crotches wouldn’t touch.

It was overwhelming to feel you against him, your breasts against his chest, with only your bra between the two of you. It was a whirling moment, to kiss you in such an intimate scene, playing something that you had lived for real before. He groaned and slid his hand to the back of your neck to hold you as close as possible against him.

He felt you shift slightly, turning your hips to face his. He wanted to ask you what you were doing but he couldn’t. He was half hard from the moment he laid against you but now his cock was hard as steel. You pushed your pelvis forward and the tip of his cock nestled at your entrance, pointing against his boxers.

He could feel your wet panties through the fabrics.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you recited your line, and he growled.

He couldn’t believe you would act like that while shooting a scene, couldn't believe you were using him.

He pulled away to look at you and you murmured an unscripted “please.” Eyebrows furrowed, he nodded slightly. His fat head found its way, and his tip pushed your panties in.

It was hot, filthy, forbidden. So unprofessional, but he couldn’t stop. He recognized your moans, and the small team around you probably thought it was perfectly faked, when it was music in his ears. The music he thought he would never hear again.

Your hands tightened on his biceps as you came. So quickly. He felt your walls squeezing his tip and he almost forgot to move, forgot the script, forgot you were shooting a scene. He pulled out, afraid he would come too, and faked his orgasm, neck tense and veins bulging, your hands caressing his hair at the back of his neck.

You said the next line “I love you, baby. I missed you so much.”

“I love you too,” was his.

“Cut!! That was amazing, great job!!”

There was a pounding on your trailer door as you got out of the shower. You quickly threw on a bathrobe and went to open it.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled.

“Keep your voice low Joel, damn… Come in.”

You closed the door behind him, searching for the right words, pressing your hands together.

“I, huh…” you stammered.

“No! No, talk to me. Tell me. You can’t… you can’t do that and stay silent.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he chuckled.

“Having you so close to me, against me… I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. It was overwhelming.”

“Everyone could have seen, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking, that’s the point, Joel! And they didn’t see, anyway.”

“Jesus christ you can't do that. You can’t just use me like that.”

“I know, Joel. I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“What?”

You sighed, and that time he didn't try to rush you. You felt him soften, giving you time to find your words.

“I miss you, Joel.”

“No, don't… Please, don’t say that.”

“I missed you the second I left and it never stopped.”

Hearing the tone of your voice and reading your eyes, this time he had no doubt that you really meant it. And he felt all the tensions in his body relax, as if he were freed from everything that had been oppressing him for years. You approached him slowly, eyes raised to his, and you slid your hand into his, and his large palm gently closed over it. You caressed his cheek with the other, and for a moment he shut his eyes, pressing his face against your hand.

“I miss you,” you said again and he rested his forehead against yours. He gently rubbed his nose against yours, before kissing your lips softly. He heard your breathing hitch for a moment, then you moaned slightly as you pulled away, just to look at him, Joel, not the actor, for the first time in years. He pulled you closer to him and brushed his tongue over your lips, as if asking for permission to push inside. Greedily, you slid yours to his, licking his tongue and lips, until he crashed his mouth against yours. His hands rested on your waist while yours moved up his back, pressing your bodies together. You whined when you felt his hard cock pressed to you.

You pulled away from him again, just to look at his face, and he wanted to pinch himself, just to be sure you were not some dream that would leave him disillusioned and alone when he woke up.

You took his hand and led him to your room.

“Undress me,” you said.

He pulled on the knot of your bathrobe slowly, making the two sides of the garment part, revealing the curve of your breasts that he caressed with his fingertips.

Your chest rose quickly as your eyes were plunged into each other, until he lowered them to your pussy. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he was afraid it would explode.

He raised his gaze to yours, silently asking if you were okay.

“Yes,” you said. As if you knew he would want to hear it, that a nod wouldn't be enough.

He slipped his hands under the fabric of the robe and slid it down your shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving you naked. So vulnerable, and yet you were the strongest woman he ever knew, following your dream by leaving for a city where you didn't know anyone. And made your dream come true.

But now you were here, in front of him. So pretty, so sure of yourself, of your desires.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

He pulled you back, guiding you with his hands on your hips as he kissed you, until the back of your knees touched the bed.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he said. The nickname was so familiar in his mouth, so normal. You did as he asked, moving back until your head rested on the pillow as he watched you, still standing at the end of the bed. Then he took off his t-shirt, unbuttoned his jeans and got rid of them and his boxers.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. “Haven't felt better in a long time, actually.”

“Me too,” he added, laying on the bed, his hand caressing your inner thighs that he kissed, then he spread them with his hands.

He ran his thumb over your folds, covering it in your wetness until he reached your clit and gently rolled it under his finger. You moaned, spreading your thighs wider.

He leaned down, his shoulders taking possession of the space between your thighs, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. He licked a long stripe from your drooling hole to your clit, then placed his hands on the inside of your thighs, pressing your knees against the sheets, and you willingly let him do it, your hands sliding into his hair. He pushed his tongue into your cunt, growling against your folds. He never thought he would taste you again and an overwhelming feeling was running through his whole body. You were leaking into his mouth, down his throat and he pressed you against him, greedy for what you were giving him as your hips rolled towards him. His nose brushed perfectly against your clit, like it always did before. You clung to his hair as your moans were getting louder and louder.

"I'm so close, Joel," you murmured, hands lost in his curls. "Please, baby, please."

“Take what you need, use me, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, Joel… I’m gonna… I’m coming, fuck!”

He didn't let go of you, leaving his tongue buried in your pussy and his nose against your clit, gripping your waist with his hands, as if they were in their natural place, your flesh welcoming them.

“Joel…” you whimpered.

“Another one, please, baby. Let me give you another one, ok?”

“I’m not sure if I can… I don’t know if I can,” you panted.

“Lemme try, ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered.

His tongue left your pussy, licking your puffy folds before teasing your swollen clit. His middle finger slid along your folds before he pushed it in you gently, immediately adding a second digit. His fingers pumped into you, making your wetness flow down to the sheets. He kept you pressed against the mattress, as he had done so many times, drunk on your taste and smell. His cock ached but he resisted the urge to grind himself against the bed, afraid of not being able to hold back and come on them.

“I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,” he added, still pumping your drooling cunt with his thick fingers, then licking and sucking your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you whined, just before you came on his diggits, clit pulsing against his tongue.

He crawled over to you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and smashed his lips against yours, your wimpers now disappearing between them.

“I wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you breathed against his lips, but he shook his head.

“Sweetheart… I'd love it too but I’m gonna come the second you’ll take me in your mouth,” he said. “And I really need to feel you around my cock. All the way this time, not just the tip. You’re ok with that, baby?”

“Of course, need to feel you too.”

“Damn you’re so pretty,” he said, and kissed you.

He grabbed his cock in his hand, the tip leaking, swollen and red, and nestled it at your entrance, pausing there for a moment before thrusting in.

“Oh fuck…” you whined, making him stop.

“No, no no, don’t stop, I’m ok. Need all of you, please,” you whimpered.

Like years ago, he would give you everything you needed from him. So he didn't stop until he bottomed out.

“Shit,” he groaned, feeling his balls tightening, ready to explode. He was struggling so hard not to come, but his breath was hitching with every thrust since he felt your pussy around him.

You kissed, hips rolling towards each other softly and slowly. He loved to feel you around him again, and again he thought that your bodies were made for each other. He was sure of it more than ever. He slid his arms under your shoulders and you licked his neck, right at his pulsating point, then kissed the thin and delicate skin crossed by its veins.

“I won’t last, baby, I’m sorry…” he panted.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, taking him deeper.

“It doesn’t matter, fill me, Joel, please, just like before,” you begged, making him grawl, and he placed his thumb against your clit. It was enough to give you soon another climax and you pulsed around his shaft, digging your fingers into his skin as you came once again. He thrusted in a few times before burying himself, balls deep in your cunt, and shot his cum into your core, filling it to the last drop, his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, sweetheart….”

“I know,” you breathed. “Just like before.”

For a few minutes both of you were panting loudly, waiting to catch your breath.

Then you caressed his cheek and he kissed you until he pulled away and lay down facing you.

“Come here, baby,” he said, welcoming you against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, the way he always liked it so much. You stayed like that for a few minutes without talking. He just wanted to feel you against him, to hear you breathe slowly, to feel your skin against his.

“I should have left with you,” he said suddenly.

You straightened up to look at him then said softly, “hey, no, don’t… Don’t hurt yourself by thinking that. You did what you had to do, and so did I. And we met again, like you said back then,” you added, and kissed him, then curled up in his arms again.

“We did,” he agreed, brushing your hair delicately. “So, that script?” he asked. “Was it to… like… get me back?”

“Of course it was,” you smiled against his torso, and he kissed the top of your head.

“I’m happy you sent it to me, sweetheart.”

Thank you for reading 🙏

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nomie-11 · 2 days ago

Text

First Call Back

masterlist! | part 1 here!

synopsis: after your impromptu move to Piltover, not all of your solutions are solved, but you're finally together again, so maybe this could work out, right?

pairings: vi x reader, powder is lowkey reader's adoptive daughter

“I’m heading out early today, so don’t look for me when you wake up. Breakfast is in the fridge, Powder is At school, and I’ve started the laundry. Don’t forget that ‘how is Powder adjusting to fancy private school meeting’ is tomorrow at 7:00. I promise I’ll shower after work so I don’t scare off the teacher. See you later. Love you, babe.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 3rd, 7:32 a.m.

—————

You hadn’t quite made up your mind about Piltover yet. Yes, you had already moved there, and what little belongings you had were already set and away in your new apartment, but Piltover was weird.

You could tell Powder wasn’t entirely happy about it, too. You and Vi had lined up the move so that Powder would start fresh on her first day of her first year of high school. The two of you (and Caitlyn) had even taken Powder out to get some new clothes, and she appreciated it, but you knew when she wasn’t feeling great.

It all came to a head when, one night for dinner, you were sitting across from Powder, Vi on your other side with her textbooks and notes spread out, headphones pulled securely down over her ears.

“How was school today, baby?” you asked softly, looking up from your plate to her, sitting in the kitchen chair she had claimed as her own, her knees pulled into her chest. Her soft, violet blue eyes were rimmed red as she glanced at you.

“It was fine,” she mumbled, using her fork to push around her food on her plate, immediately shifting her gaze back down. She hadn’t taken a single bite all night—something that used to be foreign, she always used to eat, purely off the knowledge that you had sacrificed something for her plate to be full.

With a soft sigh, you reached across the table, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

“You’ll tell me when you want me to braid your hair, okay?”

She just nodded, dropping her fork onto the plate and pushing it towards you. “Thanks for dinner.”

—————

“Did Powder tell you what’s going on? Those fancy Piltover assholes have been bullying her—saying she’s too skinny, that her hair is weird. They took her sketchbook today and started tearing out pages. When she got home from school, she just went straight to her room, didn’t even say hi. I had to force her to tell me when she finally grabbed a snack and took one of your high protein, high calorie bars that she hates.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, September 28th, 4:39 p.m.

—————

The walls of the apartment were a sterile white. Powder originally was excited to decorate them with you, but the excitement had fizzled out as quickly as it came. Boxes still sat unopened in the corner of her room, her sketches and art supplies untouched. The bright posters you’d picked out to liven up the place remained rolled up on her desk. She spent most of her time curled up on her bed, headphones in, drowning out the world.

It hurt to see her like this. Powder had always been the spark, the light in the darkest days. Now, her spark seemed dimmed, weighed down by the move, the new school, and the unfamiliar faces that didn’t bother to understand her.

That night, as you were tidying up the kitchen, you heard her soft footsteps approach. Powder hovered at the edge of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, looking smaller than ever.

“Hey, baby,” you said, wiping your hands on a towel. “What’s up?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the floor. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Can I… can I have some juice?”

“Of course,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light as you moved to the fridge. “You want your usual cup and straw too?”

She nodded, still not meeting your eyes. You grabbed the juice in silence, the quiet punctuated only by the soft click of Powder’s favorite cup against the metal of her straw. When it was ready, you placed the cup in front of her at the table, sitting down across from her.

For a moment, she just stared at the mug, her hands cradling it for warmth. Then, she took a shaky breath and said, “I miss home.”

Your heart clenched. “I know, baby,” you said softly. “It’s okay to miss it. This is a big change.”

She nodded again, her eyes glassy. “It’s just… everything’s different here. The school, the kids, they don’t get me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, reaching out to take her hand. “I”m sorry I can’t fix this for you, but you don’t have to go through this alone, okay? Me and Vi—we’re here for you. Always.”

Powder sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. Then, out of nowhere, she murmured, “Thanks, mom.”

The words hit you like a freight train. Your breath caught, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her. Powder didn’t even seem to realize what she’d said, her focus still on the mug in her hands.

—————

“I don’t think she even knows she did it on purpose. But it still hit me, Y/n. Like I’ve been trying so hard to make things better, to be there, and she… she doesn’t even see me like that. I guess I deserve it. I left her.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 29th, 12:14 a.m.

—————

The next morning, Vi wasn’t at the breakfast table. Powder had barely touched her cereal, her spoon stirring it listlessly. You decided against pushing her to eat more; the last thing she needed was added pressure.

“Vi’s still upset, huh?” Powder asked, her voice small.

“She’s just tired, baby,” You said, sitting down beside her. “She loves you so much, Powder. You know that, right?”

Powder nodded, but her eyes stayed downcast. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you murmured, brushing a strand of her soft blue hair behind her ear. “It’s just… complicated. She’s trying to figure out how to be what you need. And sometimes, it’s easier for her to feel like she’s not enough.”

Powder looked up at you then, eyes wide. “But she is. She’s enough.”

“I think she needs to hear that from you,” you said gently.

—————

“Can you come home? Powder feels like shit, and I know you said you’re going for a run and I shouldn’t wait up for you, but I need to talk to you tonight.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, October 12th, 11:23 p.m.

—————

Powder had already gone to bed when Vi finally came through the door, her face flushed from a run that went on for longer than was originally planned. You were sitting on the couch, nursing a cup of tea, waiting for her.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Hey,” she replied, toeing off her shoes. She didn’t sit beside you, instead heading for the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

“You can’t just keep running away,” you said, your voice calm but firm.

Vi froze mid-pour. “I’m not running,” she said after a moment, her tone defensive.

“Yes, you are,” you said, setting your tea down on the counter. “Powder needs you right now. She feels terrible about what happened, Vi. And honestly? So do I.”

Vi turned to face you, her jaw tight. “Why would you feel terrible? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Because I should’ve seen this coming,” you said, standing up. “I should’ve talked to you about how she sees me, about how much she relies on me when you’re not around. This wasn’t fair to either of you.”

Vi’s shoulders slumped, her anger deflating. “I just… I wanted to fix things,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted her to see me as her sister again, not some stranger who shows up every now and then.”

“She does,” you said, stepping closer, resting your hand on her arm. “But Vi, you can’t force her to heal overnight. She’s grown up. She’s changed.”

Vi’s eyes filled with tears, and she set the glass down with a shaky hand, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in her shoulder. “I’m not cut out for this,” she whispered.

“You are,” you said firmly, wrapping your arms around her. “We’ll figure this out.”

—————

“I helped Powder with her art project last night. We stayed up until midnight cutting out tiny stars because Powder didn’t like how hers turned out. It was the first time I’ve seen Powder smile in weeks. I think… I think we might be okay.”

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 17th, 10:22 a.m.

—————

The next week, the three of you went out for ice cream. It wasn’t much—just a quick trip to a small shop down the block—but it felt like a turning point. Powder clung to Vi’s arm the whole way there, her sketchbook tucked under her other arm. Vi didn’t let go once, even holding the door open with her foot.

As you sat at a table, Powder flipping through her drawings to show Vi her latest ideas, you caught a glimpse of the sister Vi had been before everything had fallen apart. She laughed at Powder’s jokes, teased her about her favorite colors, and even let Powder draw on her arms around her tattoos.

“Maybe you should get it tattooed,” Powder said with a smile, pulling back her marker to give you a clear view of the intricate lines of flowers crawling up Vi’s mechanical ink.

Vi grinned. “You think so? Maybe we can get matching ones someday.”

Powder’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Totally,” Vi said, ruffling her hair.

You watched them, your chest tight with a mix of relief and undying love. For the first time since the move, things felt… okay.

—————

“I saw Powder hug Vi today. Like, really hug her—not one of those quick, awkward ones. She clung to her, just like she used to. Vi cried when she thought I wasn’t looking.”

—phone call from Y/n to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 28th, 7:48 p.m.

—————

Powder and Ekko had claimed the living room, their laughter spilling into the kitchen where you and Vi were cleaning up after dinner. Powder’s sketchbook and Ekko’s toolbox—filled with small scraps of metal and wires—were spread out on the coffee table, and you could hear them trading ideas for some kind of contraption they wanted to build together.

“They’re loud, but I’m not complaining,” Vi said, drying a plate.

“Neither am I,” you said with a soft smile, handing her another dish to dry. “She’s never had a friend like him before.”

Vi glanced over her shoulder at the two teens, her expression softening. “She deserves to have someone like him. Someone who gets it.”

“Yeah, she does,” you agreed, turning back to the sink. “Genius and madness. Let’s just hope they don’t blow up the apartment.”

Vi snorted, leaning on the counter beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “If they do, at least we know Powder will find a way to fix it.”

You chuckled, glancing over at the living room. Powder was laughing now, a real, uninhibited laugh that filled the apartment with a warmth you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. Ekko was gesturing wildly, clearly explaining some grand idea, and Powder was nodding along, her now short blue hair bobbing with enthusiasm.

“She’s totally doing better,” Vi said quietly, her eyes on her sister.

“She is,” you replied, reaching for her next dish.

Vi’s hand covered yours, stilling your movement. “Thanks for sticking with us,” she said, her voice low but sincere. “I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

You squeezed her hand, your heart swelling. “You don’t have to thank me, Vi. I love you both too much for you to ever have to know what you’d do without me.”

The sound of something crashing in the living room snapped both of your heads toward the noise. Powder and Ekko froze, their eyes wide as they looked at the overturned coffee table and the scattered parts of their project.

“Uh… we can fix it!” Powder blurted, already scrambling to gather the pieces.

Vi groaned, running a hand over her face. “I stand by what I said. They’re definitely blowing up the apartment.”

You laughed, grabbing a towel to clean up the spilled juice. “At least they’re having fun doing it.”

Vi smirked, shaking her head. “They’re lucky they’re cute.”

—————

“Hey, Cait. I know I’m running late for our lab, I swear I’m on my way—I just got a little held up at home. So much is going on. Powder’s smiling more, and she’s made this friend—a kid named Ekko—just moved here from Zaun with his adoptive father. They’ve been hanging out at our place, and for once I don’t feel like I’m walking on eggshells around her.

And Y/n just applied to Piltover University for night classes. Can you believe it? She’s so nervous, but I know she’s gonna crush it. I told her I’d help with whatever she needs. Anyways, I’m on my way! Don’t wait for me.”

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, November 4th, 11:14 a.m.

—————

The day your acceptance letter arrived, Vi practically tackled you in excitement.

“I told you!” She crowed, spinning you around the kitchen. “I told you you’d get in!”

”Vi, put me down!” You laughed, trying to wriggle free.

“No way! This is huge, Y/n!” She said, finally setting you down but not letting go of your hands. “You’re going to college! You’re going to kill it. I’m so proud of you.”

You blinked back tears, your chest tightening at the pride shining in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have even applied if it wasn’t for you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Vi said, pulling you into a hug. “You did this. And I can’t wait for study dates, and walking you to and from class, and complaining about professors together, and—”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I haven’t enrolled yet, Vi. Deep breaths.”

—————

“I booked a reservation at that fancy rooftop place Caitlyn told us about. I figured we deserve a night out, just us. Ekko’s staying over with Powder—don’t worry, Benzo is cool with it. So… wear that dress I like, okay? I want to show you off a little.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n,

—————

The rooftop restaurant was beautiful, lit by strings of fairy lights that twinkle like stars. Vi had somehow snagged a table near the edge (she name-dropped Caitlyn Kiramman and the hostess got nervous), where you could see all of Piltover stretched out below you. She looked good—too good—in her black button-up, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off her tattoos and rippling muscles.

“You clean up nice,” you teased, sipping your wine that tasted like a week’s worth of groceries.

“You’re one to talk,” she shot back, her eyes shamelessly roamed over you. “That dress is illegal. I should arrest you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That line’s terrible. You shouldn’t take pickup lines from an enforcer-in-training.”

“But it worked, didn’t it?” She said with a smug grin.

The night passed in a blur of laughter and soft touches, a reminder of the easy connection you’d had before life got so hard. For the first time since you graduated and she moved to Piltover, you felt like a couple again-not just two people trying to hold everything together.

As you walked home, Vi slipped her hand into yours, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the evening. The streets were quieter now, the usual hustle of Piltover replaced by the soft hum of distant conversations and the occasional buzz of an airship overhead.

“You know,” Vi started, her voice thoughtful, “for two kids trying to figure out how to raise another kid, we didn’t do too bad.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “We did a pretty good job, actually. Powder is turning out great. She’s like this because of you, you know.”

“Us,” she corrected, her gaze earnest. “Powder would’ve run for the hills if it was just me.”

“You’re underselling yourself,” you said, nudging her shoulder. “You're a great big sister. She knows that now.”

Vi’s lips quirked into a soft smile, her free hand brushing over her short hair. “I guess I’ll take the compliment. But I hope you know you’re the glue. Powder and I just cling to you.”

The sincerity in her voice made your heart ache in the best way. “I do. I know.”

The building loomed ahead, its familiar stone facade dimly lit under the streetlights. As you reached the doorway, Vi stopped, turning to face you fully. Her hands found your waist, pulling you just a little closer, her thumb brushing absentmindedly over the fabric of your dress.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured, her voice loud. “And I’m so proud of you. Not just for tonight—for everything. Going to college, always working so hard for Powder, you’ve been carrying all of us, and you make it look so effortless. And I don’t tell you enough how much I… love you.”

The words were warm and steady, her familiar cadence grounding you in a way that nothing else could. “You don’t have to. I feel it every day.”

Her smile softened, her eyes searching yours in the quiet of the moment. Then, slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours with a tenderness that took you back to the first time you kissed on the roof of her dad’s old apartment building. You melted into her touch, your hands sliding up to rest against her chest, to feel the steady beat of her heart beneath your fingertips.

The kiss deepened, a slow, deliberate exchange of all the things words couldn’t express. When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Vi rested her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go home.”

And with her hand still tightly around yours, you did.

—————

“Hey, Pow! Don’t forget to set your alarm! I need you distracting her all day tomorrow so I can get the apartment ready. Time to propose!”

—phone call from Vi to Powder, June 13th, 1:43 a.m.

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

#arcane vi x reader #vi arcane #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #piltover's gayest

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moonchild9350 · 3 days ago

Text

Requiem of the Future

summary: in the future life is dismal as you live day to day trying to make it under the rule of the mega corporations. however, things may change as you and minho are tasked to steal data from a company called Onyx Corp. that can change the world. The only problem is you’re both enemies. in the dog eat dog world of the dystopian future, will you make amends for the sake of humanity or succumb to the feelings of hate.

pairing: Minho x fab!reader

genre: cyberpunk au, acquaintances/enemies to lovers au, sci fi au, angst, smut-18+MDNI

word count: 13.4k

warnings: use of guns, mention of blood, alcohol usage, soft dom. minho, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, multiple rounds, cum tasting, use of term kitten, teasing, other stuff I don’t want to spoil (as usual heh)

notes: my longest fic yet lol. but this was inspired by the video game Cybperpunk 2077! maybe a part two if you'd like? also i snuck hyunjin in here soo enjoy that lol. let me know! as always please let me know what you think of the fic, i love your feedback :)

If you enjoyed, please comment, reblog, and like ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere (or here) without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2025)

divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

You awoke with a start to the raucous of your neighbors arguing in the hall, their loud voices cutting the dream you were having short. You blinked a few times before rubbing your eyes as you groaned. ‘This is bullshit’ you thought as you were fully awake now, any promise of sleep steadily slipping away with each passing second.

There was a rustle next to you as a body turned over, letting out a grunt as they settled in once more.

“Rub it in why don’t you,” you mumbled as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stretched your back, sighing as you heard a few satisfying clicks.

Your ex boyfriend Axel was fast asleep in your bed after a night of frivolities, the soreness between your legs a reminder of the events. Yes, you know it’s not the smartest idea to keep letting him into your bed, but hey what can you say, he just fucks you so good that you feel the effects for at least a few days after.

However, you hated when he slept over, as it was a reminder of your stupid mistake. Locating his clothes, you picked them up and tossed them at him, smirking when he let out a grunt and ‘Fuck.’

“Rise and shine asshole,” you said as Axel sat up disgruntled, holding his shirt and pants to his chest.

“The fuck you do that for?” He grumbled, as he stayed within the confines of your bed.

“Because I want you out. I got shit to do.”

You shuffled through the clothes in your closet, settling on a pair of jeans and a black crop top.

“You better be gone by the time I’m done,” you warned as you turned on your shower, not bothering to look at your ex.

You stepped in the little cube and let out a shiver, cursing under your breath at the temperature. The water was never warm, maybe lukewarm at best if you were lucky. You’re lucky you even have an apartment with running water in the first place. Oh what an extra three hundred Neuro Credits could get you.

You quickly washed up, the dingy bar of soap you rubbed over your body was almost gone, you’d have to acquire some more soon if you wanted to smell decent. You ran water and some of the suds over your hair before rinsing it out, letting out a groan as you accidentally got the suds in your eyes.

Once you deemed yourself clean enough, you shut the water off and grabbed your towel, wrapping your body in the soft fabric. As you dried off, you peeked around the corner, checking to see if Axel was still in your bed, but smirking when you saw he was gone. You slipped into your clothes and then eyed your appearance, deciding how you wanted to fix yourself today.

Your eyes roamed over your wet hair, taking in the midnight blue strands sticking to your face. You’d have to dye your hair again soon. You had modifications to your temple, the metal designs carefully framing your face, adding to your appearance. There were bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep, as you have been picking up extra jobs these days to pay your rent and other things like basic necessities.

Your favorite part of you however were your series of four piercings, set perfectly along your cleavage. You decided on this modification on a whim, the piercing itself hurting like a bitch, but it added to your appeal and have not once regretted your decision to get them.

You pressed a button on the wall, a small panel opening up with a hologram prompting you to enter your command. You chose the makeup option and opted for teal blue eyeshadow and mascara, topping it off with a plum lipstick. Your option appeared on your face, not a smudge present, but the makeup instead perfectly applied.

Satisfied with your look, you slipped into your clothes and combat boots. You made sure your windows were locked and headed out the door into the dingy hallway of your apartment building. The walls were stained, and a light was flashing. You paid no attention to the couple that was still arguing, wraths of smoke filling the air as they waved their cigarettes in each other’s faces.

You took the lift to the bottom floor, stepping out into the bright sunlight as the city moved around you. People flooded past you on their way to who knows what, most looking dejectedly at the ground, mumbling about the lack of work or Neuro Credits.

So was life in Rosora. It was pretty common to have the most recent technological modifications to your body, the best gadgets and appliances, but satisfactory food was hard to come by unless you had rare items to trade or an abundance of Neuro Credits. If you were sick or injured, medicine or seeing a doctor was near impossible unless you knew someone or was someone higher up the food chain.

Rosora was a mega city, with millions of people calling it home. The city was divided into three zones, with most apartment buildings being located in Rosora itself. The business district where the higher ups who worked for Onyx Corp. was part of zone Farlan. Most people have never even been to that zone as only those who are somebody were allowed past the security checkpoint.

The recreation zone was part of Cyberlina, an area filled with entertainment centers, clubs, modifications centers, etc. This zone was pretty popular, the people of Rosora opting to spend most of their time there, wasting the day and night away.

Lastly was Songill, not the safest area which was saying something. This zone was filled with gangs and criminals, the buildings more shabby and rundown. If you weren’t a member of any of these groups, it was best to stay away, especially after sundown as there was a high chance of you being robbed, harassed, or even worse killed.

You were on your way to Cyberlina, as you needed to trade for food, your stash running low back at home. However, you realized you left your ID at Neon Lights, a club that you frequent on a weekly basis. The walk didn’t take long, as you lived on the outskirts of Rosora.

You made your way down the dirty walkway, side stepping others who were bent over the curb, vomiting whatever drink they indulged themselves with overnight. As you came closer to the center of the area, a large purple building came into view, outfitted with a yellow neon sign that read the name of the club.

You greeted the bouncer who let you in immediately, as you were on the list of guests for immediate access. You entered the dark space, only illuminated by the dim lighting that lit the walkway. Some synth beat was blaring over the loudspeakers, even though it was mid-morning and scarcely any people present.

In the center of the club next to the dance floor and various dancing decks, was a bar, outfitted with every type of poison you could think of in this god forsaken city. Wiping down some glasses was a tall man with long black hair and muscular arms, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he tried to get a stain out.

“Hey Hyunjin,” you said as you slid into a stool, placing your head on the palm of your hand.

Hyunjin looked up and smiled, setting down the glass he was cleaning. “Hey y/n, back so soon?”

You chuckled and sat up straighter, “left my ID here last night. Need it to go nab some food. Gotta fuel up before tonight’s job.”

Hyunjin frowned at your statement, his eyes immediately landing on your face.

“You still thinking about going through with that?”

“Of course Hyun. I need the Neuro Credits. I’d be stupid to pass up this job.”

The job in question was a heist with one of your acquaintances who you occasionally go on requests with. Astra was your groups arms dealer, a man who understood anything that had a trigger on it. He was perfect for this job as you two were supposed to nab a security chip from a dealer, as the chip can neutralize any opponent instantly, making it the most sought after security system in Rosora.

You’ve been doing odd jobs like these for years, since you were a teen in fact, after your family died from a virus that attacked their cyberware, rendering them brain dead. In this city, it was either fight for survival or die and the latter didn’t seem too appealing. You were recruited by Chan, the leader of your group who taught you the ins and outs of this life, making sure you knew what was important for your survival.

He also introduced you to Hyunjin, his best friend and also your age. Hyunjin has been there for you throughout the years, leaning a shoulder to cry on when things were bad, providing you a place to stay when you couldn’t pay your rent, and just being the closest thing you had left of family. He worried about you constantly, not necessarily happy with you taking on dangerous odd jobs, even if it paid the bills.

“I wish you wouldn’t, y/n, this could be dangerous. Something is telling me this one may not go as smoothly as the others.”

He slid over a glass filled with amber liquid at that time, your hand catching it instantly before giving it a swirl and draining it in one go. The bitter taste slid down your throat, leaving a burning sensation behind as it settled within you.

“It’ll be fine. We’ll grab the chip and get out. Easy peasy.”

Hyunjin was not convinced. He loved you like a sister and didn’t want to see you get hurt but he knew better than anyone that nothing changes your mind once you accepted a job. Instead of arguing, he reached behind the counter and handed over a small gray card.

You picked it up and smiled, satisfied that you had your ID back. You tucked it away in your pocket and stood up.

“Thanks Hyun. Catch you later yeah?”

Hyunjin nodded and picked up the glass he was polishing before. “Of course.”

He saluted you and went back to work. Now that you had your ID, you could get what you set out to do beforehand. Exiting the bar, you made your way through the alleys, sidestepping mysterious puddles and people lounging against the brick walls.

You eventually came to a little stall, a young woman sitting on a stool by it scrolling through a magazine. As you approached, she grinned and set the magazine down and stood up.

“Y/n! Long time no see. Came to see my wares?”

“Hey Nora,” you greeted as you began to eye her stock. “Need to replenish my food supplies.”

Nora nodded and walked over to a little pile of bars. “Here’s what I have. I’ll even give you a discount since youre a dear friend. All of these for two hundred Neuro Credits. Whadda you say?”

Shit, two hundred Neuro Credits? That would take half of your credits you had in your bank account. You quickly looked through your stash, searching for anything you could trade. It didn’t take long for you to come across an item you knew she wouldn’t refuse.

“How about all of these for fifty Neuro credits plus this medical kit?” You said as you selected the kit in question so Nora could view it.

Nora looked over your trade, her eyes widening as she took stock of what was inside. “Shit y/n, this is a top grade medical kit. Ya sure you want to part with it?”

Nora was right. This was a highly sought after medical kit with supplies that are useful for any type of illness or injury. You hated to have to part with it, but food was equally as important.

“I’m sure. So do we have a deal?”

Nora nodded quickly, not giving your trade a second thought. She accepted the medical kit and credits, before handing you the stockpile of food.

“Thanks Nora,” you said gratefully as you stored the wares in your pack.

“Of course, come back anytime friend,” Nora said as she slightly bowed.

You shouldered your bag and began to walk back to your apartment. The time to rondavoux with Astra was drawing near. You thought over what Hyunjin had said, how he felt this job would not work out how you wanted. You trusted his opinions and felt slightly nervous for tonight, a feeling you rarely felt since you entered this lifestyle. However, you pushed those feelings aside as this job would pay out well if it was successful.

Once back inside your home, you set your bag down before grabbing one of the bars that you acquired. Plopping down on the couch, you opened the packet and took a bite, savoring the shitty taste of freeze dried chicken and a mix of vegetables. Your phone went off then, the shrill tone loud in your otherwise quiet room.

You looked at the ID and saw it was Echo your group’s tech specialist calling. Sighing, you pressed accept and said, “Why if isn’t Echo.”

“Y/n,” Echo said with a chuckle, “ready for tonight’s deal?”

“As ready as I ever am,” you said as you finished off your bar.

“Well let’s go over the details one last time okay? You and Astra will be meeting with Sych at eight oclock sharp. When I say sharp, I mean it. He does not like to be kept waiting. The Neuro Credits will be in your account ready to transfer once you see the chip…only after you see the chip. Got it? Once the transfer is made, get the chip and go, no chit chat.”

“Yeah, yeah, be careful, watch your back, I know the deal Echo,” you responded as you rolled your eyes.

It was always the same spiel with him, warnings, advice, how to do your job. You knew his heart was in a good place, but after hearing it for the millionth time, it kinda got on your nerves.

“Listen, we need this chip so no fucking up. I will be with you virtually, sending you shots of the area so you know what and who’s ahead. Astra has already been briefed. He’ll be waiting for you at the meeting spot at six.”

“Thanks, I’ll be there,” you said before ending the call.

You looked at the clock and noted you had a few hours before you needed to meet Astra. Maybe you’d take a quick nap, get some sleep so you could focus tonight. As you were getting into bed, however, your plan was foiled as there was a sharp rap on your door.

You walked over and opened it, frowning as you noticed Axel was back on your doorstep.

“Hey baby, thought I’d come see you before you had to work tonight,” he purred looking at you expectedly.

Damn he knew you well. Sighing, you let him in, slamming the door behind him. You barely took two more steps in when he grabbed you by your waist, his lips slotted with yours hurriedly before spinning you around and bending you over the kitchen counter.

You let out a moan as he discarded your pants and dragged his finger through your folds and teasing your clit. You could hear the rustle of his pants as he pushed them down his legs to free his cock.

“I’ll make this quick baby don’t worry, just how you like.”

As he pushed in, spreading your walls, you both let out a groan, succumbing to the feel of each other. Axel fucked you hard and fast, not giving you time to adjust, the sting of not prepping before hand turning you even more. You gripped the counter as he hit your spot every time, bringing you closer to your orgasm with each thrust. If there was one thing axel did right, it was fuck you, as he knew what spots to hit, how to get you to your high fast.

He angled his hips so he could fuck you deeper and with this you let go, your pussy clenching around his cock as he unloaded within you with a grunt. He gave a few more thrusts before pulling out and helping you stand.

“There, better?” He asked as he helped you dress.

“Shut up,” you said as you slapped his hand away.

You walked to the door and opened it, waiting for him to leave. Axel shook his head and exited your apartment, saying “you know how to reach me,” over his shoulder.

Once the door was closed and he was out of sight, you rested your head on the door and closed your eyes. That would be the last time you told yourself. It had to be for both of your sakes.

You stole a glance at the clock and noticed you had an hour to get ready. Deciding to take another shower, you made your way to the bathroom and turned the water on. Quickly, you washed yourself off and stepped out, drying yourself and walking to your closet.

You settled on an all black ensemble for tonight’s job, sliding into your leather pants and a black bralette, finishing the look off with your studded, black leather jacket. You slid your combat boots back on and fluffed your hair.

You had a little more time before you had to leave to go meet Astra, so you made sure your cyberware was in good shape and all controls where they needed to be. You made sure to grab your gun and sheath your pocket knife in your secret pocket. Hopefully neither would have to be used tonight.

Satisfied with your look and deeming yourself ready, you placed your earpiece in your ear and switched it on, bracing yourself for the brief static it gave off once on. ‘Time to go,’ you thought as you left your apartment.

The night air was stagnant, the city quiet as many people opted to stay indoors once nightfall hit. The occasional car passed by you, music blaring as it rolled away towards its destination. The skyline was lit up, neon lights everywhere promising more than what it could offer.

You were happy for your jacket as it was chilly, a light wind present as it gently whipped around you. As you approached the meeting spot, you noticed Astra propped up against a pole, his phone in hand. He looked up when he heard your footsteps and straightened up to greet you.

“Y/n.”

“Astra.”

A simple greeting was all you two shared, neither one of you very talkative at the moment. You both understood the importance of tonight’s job and were both a little nervous as to what could come. Astra was a good partner to have, always looking out for you and he was an expert marksman. At six foot even, he towered over most opponents, who cowered away in fear but occasionally, one thought they could challenge him and that’s when his weapons would come out.

You knew he was strapped, his babies hidden in the least expected of places.

“Ready to do this?” He asked, giving you a nervous chuckle.

“Let’s do this.”

You both headed towards a parking garage and stopped at one of the cars. It unlocked as you approached, recognizing your profile. You got in the driver’s seat as Astra got in as a passenger. The car turned on and adjusted its settings to your liking before backing out of the spot and merging onto the road.

The drive to Songill was quiet, neither one of you offering up a single word. The tension was palpable, the air filled with the possibilities of how tonight could go. You watched as the buildings passed by, the lights a blur as the car sped down the street.

As you approached the destination, Echo’s voice could be heard through the car’s speakers, “you’re approaching the meeting spot. I don’t see but three people there, but of course be on your guard as backup could be hiding in the buildings. Remember the plan, do the exchange, get the chip, and get out.”

You and Astra hummed in agreement and opened your doors as you were now at the spot. As you stood up, two men approached you with scowls on their faces.

“Y/n?” The one closest to you asked. You couldn’t help but think he reminded you of a tiger, an animal ready to pounce.

“The one and only,” you responded with a smirk.

“Follow me.”

You followed the two men over to a fire, sitting down on the stump that the man gestured to. Astra sat right next to you, his eyes set on the men in front of you. There was a moment of silence as the other’s sat down, that is until a burly man walked out of the nearest building.

He seemed like one not to mess with as he was buff and his body was littered with scars, including one that ranged from his scalp to his chin. He sat down in the chair across from you with a grunt.

“Well, if it isn’t the famed y/n. Finally get to meet you.”

You narrowed your eyes at the man, not buying his pleasantries. You wanted to get this over with so you could go to bed at a decent hour tonight.

“Cut the bullshit, you got what we want or not?” you demanded.

Sych sized you up as he frowned, clearly not happy that he was ignored. “Now, now, why rush right into business. Why don’t you sit and chat a while huh? Then we can get to it.”

“Nah, we’re gonna get to business now. Unlike you, I like to get to bed early.”

Sych chuckled at this, a loud laugh that echoed in the alley you all were in. “All business and no fun huh? Relax darling, I have what you want right here.”

You watched as he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a small box. He carefully uncapped it and presented the goods inside. It took everything in you to not leap for the box and make a run for it, however, Astra placed a hand on your knee as if he could read your thoughts. You took a deep breath and let it out.

“Here it is, the most high tech security system of our time. Pop this beauty in and anyone within a fifty feet radius will be analyzed and either let through or eliminated. Now my question is, you got the funds?”

“Of course we have the funds,” you scoffed, offended that he would imply that you didn’t.

You readied the agreed amount, presenting the number to Sych. He looked over the details before smiling.

“Excellent, go ahead and transfer it over.”

You nodded and pressed send, the amount immediately leaving your account and ending up in his. As soon as he confirmed the Neuro credits were there, he handed over the chip. You grasped the box tightly and put it in your pocket for safekeeping and made to get up. The job was done so there was no need to hang around.

However, as you began to walk away with Astra in tow, you were stopped in your tracks by two of the men. You were not sure why they stopped you both, but you could feel your temper rising at their actions.

“What the fuck is this?!” You exclaimed, “get out of our way.”

“No, no, no y/n. There seems to be a problem,” Sych said.

You turned around and stared at the man, confused at his statement. He smirked at you, his face screaming ‘I caught you.’

“You thought you could infect my cyberware with that transfer didn’t you? Cause that’s what seems to be happening. Good thing I have modifications to protect against just that.”

“The fuck are you talking about? There’s no virus with that transfer,” you countered, but your voice wavered as you were unsure of yourself.

‘Echo’ you thought. This screamed your group’s tech guru all over.

“I don’t like being fucked over y/n. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to hand over that chip back and then leave or we will kill you. Sounds like a deal?”

Hand the chip over? That would not be an option, you needed the Neuro credits so you could survive, you were banking on it. You could feel Astra begging you to see reason from beside you, but you ignored him and continued to stare at Sych.

“Absolutely not. We had a deal. We trade the chip for 300,000 Neuro credits. You got the funds, we have the chip, so we can leave.”

You turned to walks towards your car when it happened. There was a brief silence and then a loud crack followed by your scream piercing the air. Another crack resounded in the area, causing you to scream again. You fell to the ground, an agonizing pain in your right leg and lower abdomen causing you to howl.

You stared at the sky as more cracks filled the air and men screamed. Your vision went in and out, the buildings above you turning fuzzy with each passing moment. You could hear a ringing in your ears, the sound so loud, it was driving you insane. Your hand went to your belly and you felt something cold and liquid. With what little strength you had, you eyed your hand, letting out a groan as you recognized your hand was covered in blood.

You laid there in agony, thinking this is the end, you were going to die. And as the night sky slowly disappeared, you slipped into the dark, your mind going black and your body relaxing as the pain dissipated. — — You heard soft music playing and you were warm and comfy. Maybe this is what heaven feels like or hell or wherever the hell you go after you die. You don’t want to open your eyes, not yet. You want to stay in this bliss for a little longer before you have to face the reality of your death.

However, you suddenly felt a presence near you, murmuring your name. That voice sounded almost like Hyunjin’s…but it couldn’t be. Not unless he died too. Your eyes snapped open and looked around, recognizing you were back in your apartment.

Hyunjin was sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with concern as he held a wet rag in his hand.

“Y/n! You’re awake!”

“Hyunjin?” You croaked, your voice not quite working.

“Shh, don’t talk. You just rest. I’ll get you some water,” Hyunjin said as he fussed over you.

You watched as he scampered over to the sink and filled a glass with water, just to hurry back to your side. He helped you sit up, your body stiff from lying down.

“Easy now,” he cautioned as he helped you drink.

You groaned as the water went down your throat, quenching your thirst. Once you were done, Hyunjin helped you get comfortable again, fluffing your pillows, making sure your blankets were tucked under you properly.

“Hyun, what happened?” You asked, curiosity getting the best of you. After all, last thing you remember, you were bleeding out on the street after the deal went wrong.

Hyunjin hesitated for a moment before saying, “you were shot multiple times, in the belly and leg y/n. You almost bled out but were able to be saved after reinforcements were called in. You’re patched up for the most part, but things probably won’t be the same for you due to your injuries and not really having the care you need…cause you know it’s expensive and there’s not really many surgeons here in Rosora.”

So you were shot, you thought so but in the chaos of it all you weren’t sure. And you weren’t able to get proper care, of course not, as you were on the bottom of the pole, broke, not anyone of any significance. Despite this, you wondered how the deal went wrong? You remember Sych saying there was a virus embedded in the transfer. Did someone from the group try and hack into his system?

You mind was wandering, going over everything you could remember, so much so that you didn’t hear Hyunjin call your name.

“Y/n!” He said again, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You looked at your best friend and chuckled at the face he was making.

“Don’t worry about that okay? You just focus on resting and recovering. I have to run out and check on my bar, but I’ll be back a little later. Call me if you need me okay?”

You nodded and watched him get up and head out, the door shutting softly behind him. This world was really messed up, so much so you were screwed if you weren’t rich. Your family faced this dilemma too and look how they ended up. You were fuming, your anger rising as you spent the time laid up in bed. You wished you could do something about this misery, help bring down the higher ups. But how? How could you, one person do that?

You were interrupted by your phone ringing, the ID saying it was Echo.

“Hello?” You said, waiting for the man to say something.

“Oh! You’re awake! Good, I was hoping you would pull through after that disaster of a job. It’s okay though cause I have another proposition for you. One that can pay out big and bring down the rich dogs.”

At that your interest peaked, wanting to hear more of what he had to say.

“Go on,” you said, settling in bed more.

“We need you to break in Onyx corp. and steal data, data that can be used to come up with a cure to illnesses, take care of injuries, help ailments in general for all, no matter your status. This could be a huge breakthrough if we can get our hands on this. And the payout is huge. Fifty million Neuro credits. So what do you say?”

This would be a huge breakthrough, you had to agree. A way for everyone to be able to have medical care no matter their status? You were hooked just on that prospect as you sit in your sick bed yourself. You couldn’t help but imagine what your family would be doing today if they had access to such a thing. And all it would take is a simple upload to your cyberware and you’d have instant care.

Also, the payout was a huge bonus. You couldn’t help but imagine all the things you could buy and do with that many Neuro credits. You think you would have learned from taking this high stakes deals, but there was too much riding on this one. You really could be more than a cog in the wheel with this job. You’d regret it if you didn’t take it.

“Okay, I’m in,” you said simply, excitement brewing within you.

“Excellent! I’ll let Chan know. Oh and you will have a partner for this, you haven’t worked with him yet, but he’s good at these type of things.”

A partner? And one you haven’t worked with? Maybe things were too good to be true.

“Who is it?”

“His name is Minho. He joined the group about two years ago but usually sticks to high paying job, like this one. He’ll be good for this job. Only thing is, he can be a little stubborn, but don’t worry, you’ll be able to get around that I just know it. I’ll be in touch with the details of the job soon. Oh and Minho will stop by and visit you soon so you can get acquainted with each other.”

Before you could say anything else, Echo hung up leaving you speechless. Minho. He sounded like he was going to be a pain, but what could you do. You’d have to put up with him no matter what so you can get this data and the credits.

Maybe things were looking up for you. Maybe this would be your second change at life and one to make a difference at that. And hopefully this Minho will see it the same way as you do.

A week passed with you sitting at home recovering, slowly gaining your strength back. Hyunjin stayed by your side, caring for you when he didn’t have shifts at the bar. It was nice to spend time with your best friend, especially when you were sober and not shit faced after a night out of forgetting whatever job you most recently completed.

You had yet to tell him about this new job you took on, knowing he wouldn’t be too keen to accept it. But, he’s your best friend and you’d have to tell him at some point.

Both of you were snuggled on your couch, watching some lame show while snacking on some protein bars. You felt cozy and warm, sleep threatening to take hold as time went by. However, you forced yourself to stay awake as you needed to tell Hyunjin about the job. It was now or never.

“Hyun? Can I tell you something?” You asked, looking up at his face.

He looked down at you and lightly gave you a squeeze, “Of course, what’s on your mind?”

“Well, once I’m healed, I kinda took on a job…”

You let that sink in, the silence getting longer with each passing second. Hyunjin furrowed his eyes at your statement and you’re sure he was trying to make sure you said that you were accepting jobs again.

“Y/n, you just got hurt because of one of these jobs, shot multiple times may I add. Why do you want to continue putting yourself in danger?”

You let out a sigh. Of course he wouldn’t understand but maybe you could talk it through.

“This job is really important. Especially because I just got injured and you know... given my family history. This could help out all of humanity Hyun. I have to take this.”

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, considering your words. He knew how much this meant to you and how much your past has affected you and now this. If you believe this a job that could help not only you but humanity as a whole who was he to stop you.

“Okay…just,” Hyunjin paused for a moment before pulling you closer. “Just be careful.”

“Always Hyun,” you whispered as you held him close, burying your head in his chest, breathing in his scent that has always calmed you.

You’d come back to him. You made a promise to your best friend and it was one you’d intend to keep.

-- --

The next day, you were cleaning up your space and airing out the place. It had been a while since you had tidied up a bit, being out of commission and all. You hummed the song that was playing on the radio and wiped down the table, a soft breeze blowing through your window and cooling off the room.

Your wounds still bothered you occasionally, but for the most part they had healed, as much as they could at least without extensive treatment. You had some additional scars now to your appearance, a wicked scar present on your leg and one on your belly. The faded pink spread across the skin in a delicate pattern, adding to the aesthetic of your appearance.

As you began cleaning your shower, there was a soft but demanding knock on your door. Muttering to yourself, you set your towel down and walked to the door, opening it with a frown on your face.

On the other side was a man with purple hair, the strands long and framing his face. His brown eyes bore into yours as he stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was grimacing, almost as if he realized he was at the wrong apartment.

“Who are you?” You asked in a not so polite tone. He interrupted your cleaning after all.

“Minho,” he said simply as he continued to glare at you.

You regarded this man called Minho, eyeing his muscular arms to his toned legs. He had a scar that spanned from the right side of his scalp and ended just below his eye. He had modifications as well, the metal adorning both sides of his cheeks. He was decked out in black, his black tank hugging his torso and skinny jeans snug against his thighs. He had a couple of piercings in his ears, the silver reflecting off the light coming from your apartment.

He was beautiful, this you couldn’t deny, plus something about him made you want to jump him, squeeze him, fuck…

“Earth to Y/n, you gonna let me in?”

You snapped out of your reverie and stepped out of the way. Minho stepped into your apartment, eyeing your shitty sanctuary with curiosity. Before you could notice though, his face returned to a scowl.

“Well we’re working together and I told Echo I’d stopped by so here I am. He suggested we discuss a training schedule to get you back in the game since you know…” He said as he gestured toward your legs.

This little shit. What was he implying? That your injuries would slow you down? You felt you blood boiling, your face heating up as your temper rose.

“You little…” you began but was stopped mid-sentence as Minho held up a hand.

“He also said you’d most likely be ticked off. Listen we need to work together so we can get this done. I don’t care what happened to you, I just want to train, get this job done and then never have to see you again.”

You crossed your arms at that and huffed. You really didn't like his attitude, his sharp responses and snarky behavior getting on your last nerves. You just met the man, but you knew you hated him and seems as if the sentiment was shared.

“Fine.” You said as you turned around muttering 'asshole' as you went back to scrubbing your shower.

You imagined it was Minho’s head as you scrubbed the tiles, imagining erasing that smug look off of his face. You were lost in your own world when you felt a presence behind you.

Turning around you looked up and noticed Minho staring at your ass.

“Uhh can I help you?” You asked with a smirk.

Minho continued to look at you, not even trying to hide the focus of his attention.

“No, not at all. Keep cleaning.”

You shook your head and turned back to scrubbing, putting your all with each stroke. You decided to tease him, sticking out your ass even more so he could get a good look at something he’d never have. You wiggled your hips and arched your back, presenting for the man standing behind you.

Once you were done, you hosed the shower down and turned the water off. Turning around, you chuckled as you took in the sight of Minho. His eyes were dilated and breathing heavy. Your eyes traveled down briefly to his pants and widened as you noticed a thick bulge threatening to pop out of his pants. Damn he must be big.

Quickly you looked back to his face, blushing as you noticed he saw you looking.

“I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early kitten.”

Minho turned on his heels and exited your apartment, the door closing softly behind him.

What just happened. You stood there stunned, not sure what to think or do after that introduction. This was going to be fun you thought as you walked to your kitchen to grab a snack.

-- --

True to his word, Minho was at your door bright and early, ready to train. You weren’t as enthused, but begrudgingly grabbed your bag and followed him out the door and down the hallway to the lift.

Once on ground level, he walked over to a sleek black car, opening the drivers side and getting in.

“Well get in,” he said impatiently as you stood on the curb.

You opened the door and slid in, ogling the plush leather seats and interior of the car. Everything inside was clean, almost as if it was brand new.

The ride to the gym was silent, Minho staring straight ahead as he drove to Cyberlina. He pulled into a parking spot and got out, waiting for you to exit as well.

He walked up to the gyms door and ushered you inside, and made his way to the front desk.

“Lee,” he said to the receptionist, who nodded and walked away guiding you two to an empty but private practice room.

Minho stepped in and began prepping for your session, his back to you the entire time. Once he was done, he noticed you were just standing there.

“Why are you just standing there? Need some help kitten?”

You looked at him noticing the smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes and began to unpack your bag. This man was going to be the death of you.

Practice went on and Minho helped you rebuild your strength, assisting you with stretches and various drills. You were definitely out of shape and as much as you wanted to admit he was wrong about needing to help you train, you had to say this was needed as you had lost a lot of mobility since your last job.

As practice came to an end, you could barely walk, your muscles sore and tense from the intense session. You were more than happy to sit down and catch your breath for a moment.

Minho noticed your predicament, concern on his face that maybe he worked you too hard.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrow raised as he assessed you.

“I’ll be fine,” you said with a wave of your hand. “Let’s go.”

Minho nodded and you both walked back to his car. He drove you back to your apartment in silence, focusing on the road as everyone was out and about making their way to clubs and bars to get drunk once again.

At your building, you bid him goodbye and made your way home, happy that there was a lift instead of stairs, as you’re not sure you would have made it otherwise.

Once inside, you turned on the water and stripped your clothes off and stepped under the stream. You quickly washed yourself and then got out, dressing hurriedly before collapsing in bed.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out, tired from exhaustion. Hopefully you’ll gain your strength back and then you’ll be back to how you were before the accident.

-- —

Training continued, Minho went hard on you and pushed you to your limits. Everyday you found yourself getting stronger, your stamina building. You didn’t arrive home exhausted anymore but now energized, ready to keep the action going.

Another thing that changed was your relationship with Minho. You both have now developed a tolerable bond with each other, both of you falling in step comfortably. He still pushed your buttons and carried the attitude, but you found a pleasurable feeling was present whenever he smirked at you, his plush lips rising up as he teased you.

The tension was so palpable at times that you felt like you couldn’t take it, needing to get some air to calm down.

Today was one of those days after Minho helped you with your aim, his soft hands helping you prop your arm how it should be. His palms were running over your hips to adjust your stance, the feeling electric as his hands touched your skin.

Your panties were soaked with your arousal, the cotton sticking to your skin. You felt your vision go fuzzy, as you stared at your target, Minho's warm breath tickling your neck as he waited for you to pull the trigger.

You refocused, needing to get him away from you as quick as possible. You squinted your eyes briefly, lining up your field of vision on your target. Taking a deep breath, you slowly let it go before pulling the trigger, your shoulder jerking slightly with the recoil as the bullet hit the center of the dummy’s chest.

“Very good kitten,” Minho whispered in your ear causing shivers to run down your spine.

You swallowed and slowly turned around to face him, blush tinting your cheeks as he stared into your eyes. You set the gun down on the table, so that way no one’s legs would get shot off.

“What’s wrong hmm?” He cooed as he stepped closer. “You’re always so feisty and have something to say, cat got your tongue?”

You shook your head no, words eluding you as he was standing right in front of you. You closed your eyes, succumbing to his scent and his warm hand as it found its way to your cheek, slowly stroking the skin as you took shallow breaths.

A moment passed and then two and then you felt his lips on yours, soft and gentle as if he was testing it out. However, the dynamic shifted suddenly as he bit your lower lip and deepened the kiss, pulling you flush to his body.

You let out a moan as his hands roamed your body and traced every curve as if he was memorizing the dips and turns of your body. He licked your bottom lip, and shoved his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours. He kissed you slow but with passion, his hard on evident within his pants as he rutted into your thigh.

You rolled your hips against him as you clutched his shirt but all too soon he pulled away causing you to let out a whine.

“Needy kitten,” he teased as he ran his thumb along the corner of his lip, collecting any spit that was leftover.

“Let’s get you home hmm,” Minho said as he turned around to pack his bag.

The car ride was tense, neither one of you speaking after your encounter. You watched the buildings pass by out of your window, eyeing the run down corners, filled with crowds of people huddled together with bottles in their hands.

However, as you stared at them, your mind went to the kiss, how his lips felt on yours, gentle yet demanding. How his hands felt on your body like a brand that was searing your skin, leaving it to feel hot and tinglingly once he removed his hand.

Your mind was still on him when you felt a hand on your knee, shaking you out of your thiughts.

“We’re here,” Minho said softly.

You looked out the window and sure enough he was right, as you recognized the tattered building that you called home. You got out of the car without saying a word and made your way to your apartment.

Once inside, you quickly changed and grabbed a glass to fix something strong and taking a sip followed by tossing back the rest, the liquor sliding down nice and easy. You filled your cup up some more right as someone knocked on your door. You knocked the drink back and went to open the door.

On the other side was Axel, smirking as he usually does when he shows up at your doorstep. Maybe it was the liquor that was sitting nicely on your belly or maybe it was just your long, complicated history with your ex or it could also have been the thought of that kiss you shared with Minho but you pulled Axel in your lips locking with his instantly in a heated kiss.

You kicked the door shut and tumbled through your apartment, both of you fumbling to get your clothes off as quick as possible. You succumbed to the lust, as Axel pleasured your body, your mind set on a certain purple haired man instead.

And as your orgasm hit, you felt an ounce of shame as you couldn’t help but wish it was Minho’s name you were screaming instead of this dead beat on top of you.

You let your ex stay the night, needing company. You knew you’d regret it tomorrow but consequences be damned. As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but notice how tired you looked as dark circles were under your eyes, your modifications making you look like a zombie instead of the typical you.

You splashed some water on your face, flinching as you heard Axel behind you, his arms snaking around your waist causing you to cringe.

Right as you were about to escape his grasp, there was a knock on your door. You quickly scampered over, not caring that you were only in a tank top and skimpy panties.

As the door opened, you gasped at your visitor. Minho was standing there, two coffees in hand, and his eyebrows raised at your appearance.

“Well good morning to you too,” he teased, his eyes running down your body and back up.

He stepped in your apartment, ignoring how you were silent as you were still stunned. However, he stopped short, his eyes on Axel who was frozen in place as well.

“Who the fuck are you?” Minho asked, his temper rising at the thought of another man’s hands on you.

Minho knew he had no right to be angry, it’s not like you two were together. However, over the last few weeks, he’s felt a change in his feelings. His heart raced when you walked in the room, your feisty demeanor turning him on as you clapped back at whatever he just said.

You were absolutely stunning too which was icing on the cake. And here you were, in nothing but a tank top that didn't hide anything from the imagination and panties that might as well shouldn’t be there, with a man that’s not him.

Minho glared at the asshole, taking in his piercings and tattoos and his douche bag of a look. He turned to you as he saw panic on your face. Good, you should feel like you just got caught.

“This is Axel….he’s my ex.”

Minho stared at you in shock before looking back at the man in question.

“Him? He’s your ex? Oh kitten you could do so much better.”

You stared at Minho, ready to clap back, but Axel beat you to it. You noticed the look on his face and panicked, knowing that he had quite the temper and you didn’t want a fight on your hands.

“Umm Axel, why don’t you leave?” You said cautiously, putting out the fire before it started.

“Really? Whatever whore. Should have known you were just a piece of good pussy.”

At that Minho handed you the coffees and charged at Axel, bringing back his fist and connecting it to the man’s face. You heard a crunch and a yowl as Axel clutched his nose, blood dripping down his face.

“Get the fuck out.” Minho sneered.

Axel grabbed his stuff and dashed for the door, slamming it behind him. You set the coffees down and rushed to Minho, cradling his hand to your chest.

“Are you okay?” You asked, as you began to examine his hand.

You fussed with making sure there was no swelling, tsking at the scrapes that were present on his knuckles.

“Kitten, I’m okay,” Minho chuckled, tickled that you were so concerned for him. “Are you okay?” He followed up with as he brushed his good hand down your cheek.

You looked up him, taking in his softened facial features as he gazed sweetly at you. It was almost like it was a different Minho standing in front of you.

He bit his lip, pulling at the skin there as he stepped closer to you. You held your breath as he leaned down, slowly, slowly until he pressed his lips to yours. He wrapped his arms around you and deepened the kiss and capturing your moans.

He walked you backwards until you reached your bed, your back falling on the mattress as you let out a huff. You laid there staring at him, neither one of you making a move or saying a word. Instead you both listened to the cars on the street outside your windows, the damn neighbors of yours arguing once more, and the sound of a tv in another neighbors apartment.

Your eyes roamed his body, landing in his bulge that was ever present, leaving nothing to the imagination. Minho smirked when he noticed your attention on him, watching as you squeezed your thighs together as arousal dripped out of your pussy.

Taking a step and another step, Minho reached for his shirt as he said, “Let me fuck you better than your ex ever has yeah?”

You gasped speechless and spread your legs as he lowered his body onto yours, his shirt discarded elsewhere. You placed your hands on his chest, softly drifting them over his tanned skin. His eyes burned into yours as you came to his nipples and circled your finger over the peaked bud, smiling as he let out a low groan.

“Enough kitten,” Minho sneered as he pushed your hands out of the way.

He gripped your shirt and lifted it over your head, your breasts freed and available for him to gaze at. You sighed as he cupped the flesh and messaged them gently in his hands, brushing his thumbs across your nipples occasionally.

You arched your back at the sensation, his gentle touch driving you insane. You let out a mewl and said, “need you Minho.”

“Yeah?” He said as he smirked, his hands reaching for the waistband of your panties.

He pulled them down your legs and spread them wider, his eyes on your wet pussy. He groaned as he eyed your sopping core as he did himself of his pants and boxers, his cock springing free. You held your breath at the sight of his cock, his size the biggest you’ve ever had.

“Gonna fuck you so good kitten, make this pussy mine.”

“Please,” you said as you gestured for him to come closer.

Minho shuffled between your legs, getting comfortable as he slapped his cock against your folds and clit. His eyes were trained on your entrance as he pushed the tip of his cock down and in, moaning as your walls sucked him in.

“You’re so tight kitten, ex must have not been fucking you good,” Minho sneered as he pounded into you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as your walls wrapped his cock.

Minho was losing his mind, you were wet, your slick coating your thighs, the sound heavenly as his hips met yours. He grabbed a handful of your breasts and kneaded the flesh, his eyes boring into yours.

You hated yet loved how his cock felt, hitting your spots just right, sending shocks of pleasure through you. You moaned with each thrust, your pussy letting him know just how good he was fucking you. However, the more he fucked you, the angrier you got, furious at how smug he is and how he thinks he can just waltz in here and take you.

“Fuck me harder Minho, can barely feel you,” you teased, smirking at the shock in his face.

Your gaze faltered however as Minho’s face turned feral, his ears turning red the angrier he got.

“Oh yeah? Can’t feel me huh kitten?”

At his words, he withdrew his cock and flipped you around and maneuvered you on your hands and knees. You barely had time to register the new position as his cock breached your entrance and he began thrusting into you at a fast pace.

Skin slapping skin rang throughout your apartment, your moans so loud you’re sure the neighbors could hear you. Minho let out a grunt as he bent over you and pushed your head into the mattress and bit down on your shoulder causing you to yelp.

“Can you feel me now? Huh? Feel me in this tight pussy of yours? Take it kitten, take every inch.”

Your pussy clenched at his words and a gush of fluids leaked out of your hole, dripping onto the bed and his pelvis, making an absolute mess. You could barely breath as you felt the coil build in your belly before snapping, your orgasm hitting hard and fast as your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

“Did you come? Such a sweet kitten for me,” Minho cooed as he pressed sloppy kisses to your back.

You laid there drunk on his cock, taking what he gave you, listening to him grunt above you. It was becoming too much and you began to cry out at the overstimulation. Minho sped up before stilling his hips, spurts of his cum painting your walls white.

You could hear his moans as he emptied himself inside you, his hands drawing patterns on your back. As he came down, he pressed gentle kisses to your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Finally, he withdrew once more and helped you lay down on your back, pulling you close to his body to cuddle.

“You did good for me kitten,” he said as he pulled the blanket over both of you.

You felt good, which honestly was an understatement, your mind hazy, your body floating as you slowly succumbed to the warmth of Minho’s body.

The next morning you awoke and rolled over while stretching, but stopped short when you ran into a body instead. Your eyes popped open in surprise, confused for a moment on who was in your bed.

But then you remembered Minho and the night you spent together and you could feel the warmth creep up to your cheeks and your pussy clench in longing for his cock. Almost as if he could feel you looking at him, Minho opened his eyes and found yours in his sleepy haze, a smirk on his face.

Minho looked even more beautiful in the early morning hours, his eyes big and filled with sleep as he gazed at you, his lashes blinking away the long strands of hair that fell into his eyes. You thought he would have been gone by the time you woke up, but here he was, pulling you closer to his body as he buried his face in your hair.

“Morning kitten,” he said, his voice muffled as he nuzzled your head.

You whimpered as you clutched onto his shirt, pushing your lower half against his erection, the thought of his length filling you up causing your slick to leak out and coat your thighs.

It’s almost as if he could read your mind because he snaked his hand down between you two, grasping his hard cock just to sheath himself within you. You let out a moan as he filled you, the pleasure and slight sting feeling so good.

You both were a tangle of breathy moans and gasps as Minho rutted against you, his cock hitting your spot just right at this angle. He kept his head buried in your hair, his arms wrapped around your body as you buried your head in his chest.

Ever so slowly, your high built within, the feeling expanding until it built to crescendo, little shocks of pleasure spreading from your pussy to your legs all the way down to your toes.

You moaned Minho’s name as he continued to thrust within you, listening to his breathing increase as he reached his high, his cum filling you up and leaking onto the sheets. As you both came down from your highs, you clutched onto each other, savoring this slow moment together before the day began.

“Kitten, we have to get up yeah?” Minho murmured as he stroked your hair.

You wanted to lay here forever, warm in his embrace, the shitty world forgotten; however, you knew you had to get up, face the world and this job that was looming in the horizon.

You and Minho shuffled around, preparing to get ready to meet with Chan and the others. Neither one of you said a word, both of you understanding the seriousness of the situation that you both would be entering into later today.

You dressed in your black pants and black tank top, pulling on your boots as well. You outfitted your eyes on midnight blue eyeshadow to match your hair, your eyes accentuated by the color.

“Ready?” Minho asked as he stood by the door.

You nodded and followed him out of the door, joining the others of Rosora. The weather was nice which was promising, as completing jobs when it was raining or storming out was not really ideal.

Minho drove you both to your groups meetings spot and joined the others who were gathered around the warehouse, quietly mingling with each other. You stood in the corner, Minho joining you, his hand resting gently on your back.

The chatter died down over the next few moments as Chan entered looking determined. He looked around those gathered before speaking.

“Okay, let’s go over the plan one more time. Echo will hack into the security system and disarm it, giving us an in into the building. However, you will need to neutralize the guards however you see fit, although if we could avoid any casualties that would be best. Echo will also be on the lookout and clear a path for you as you make your way through the building. Astra will help you with any of your enhancements before you go. Let’s get this piece of data and change humanity.”

You shared a look with Minho before Chan approached you two.

“We’re counting on you two,” he said with hope.

You both nodded and watched him walk away to speak with the others. You began to check your enhancements, making sure they were all in working order. You had a variety of different ones that came in handy depending upon the situation, such as enhanced vision, one to help you with stealth, and a cool down after firing your built in weapon-a small pistol you reserved for the most severe of cases.

Minho checked his as well, as his included enhanced vision and hearing which will definitely come in handy for this job. Once done, you both walked back to his car.

The office was in Farlan, the business district, where all the wealthy resided and worked. You looked out the window, watching as the scenery changed from run down and people ambling around with no purpose, to nice skyscrapers with up kept greenery and clean streets. Those who walked the street were put together, dressed nicely as they made their way to their destinations.

It amazed but disgusted you how there was a difference between the two zones, how one lived in luxury while the other lived in squalor.

Onyx corp. was located in a large skyscraper, the sign indicating so big and present. No one was coming in or out, the company being closed today, hence why today was chosen.

Minho pulled to a parking lot a few buildings away, both of you getting out and stretching your legs after the drive. Walking to the building was nerve wracking, both of you dressed in a way that seemed out of place compared to those of Farlan.

As you approached the side door into the building, you heard Echo give you both the go ahead, the door opening automatically for you. Inside the building, it was dark and quiet, the halls empty as everyone was off.

There were no alarms, the security alarms and cameras turned off. Minho gestured for you to follow him, as he walked further into the entry way, walking ahead to what seemed like a set of elevators.

However, half way there you heard a set of footsteps followed by a flash of light. Quickly, Minho pulled you behind a wall, both of you holding your breaths as a guard patrolled the area, flashlight in hand. Minho focused on the guard and took in the guards weak points using his enhanced vision.

Once locked in, Minho gestured to you that he would take the guard. You nodded and watched as he waited until the precise moment the guard approached the area you two were hiding and lounged out grabbing the guard by wrapping his arm around his neck and applying pressure.

The guard stumbled and began to make strangled sounds, his hands clutching at Minho’s arms as he fought to get free. However, Minho had the advantage and increased the pressure on the man’s neck until he slumped down unconscious.

Minho dragged him behind the wall where you both were hiding and went on your way. As you approached the elevator, you gazed around taking in the grandeur and lavishness of the room, tsking in disgust. They really have everything, you thought.

The elevator pinged, the doors opening and you two stepped in pressing the penthouse floor button. The doors slowly closed and the elevator began to ascend quietly. You both stood in silence until a thought came in your head.

“I will be the one who hacks in the system to grab the data,” you said, looking expectantly at Minho.

“Absolutely not,” Minho said not giving your demand a moments thought.

“Why not? I deserve this after everything I’ve been through.” You let out a huff and crossed your arms. Yes you were being petty, but hey you wanted to be the one who nabbed the prize. You owed it to your family and to yourself.

“Kitten, I will be the one to grab the data. Not another word about it yeah?”

You glared at the man next to you, “you son of a bitch. You don’t own me. I will be the one to steal the data.”

You looked straight ahead in defiance, proud of yourself for sticking it him. This was your job after all, he’s just a side character in all of this.

One moment you were staring at the elevator doors, a smirk on your face and next you were pushed against the wall, Minho caging your body in as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Listen here kitten,” he murmured, his voice echoing in your ear. “You are feisty, but bad girls get punished and I don’t want to punish you. You will let me get the data and you will be a good kitten and help. Got it?”

Your breath caught at his words, warmth filling your core at his dominance. Your eyes found his, taking in his dilated pupils and look full of lust.

“No,” you said simply, a look of pure defiance on your face. You would not give into him, doesn’t matter that you slept with him.

Minho’s raised an eyebrow and breathed out a sigh. He leaned away to press the pause button, the elevator coming to a halt. He quickly walked back to you and caged you against the wall once more as he brought a hand to your pants and slipped them inside to touch you wet pussy.

He smirked as he slid his finger through your folds and lazily circled your clit, taking in your strangled gasps as you tried not to moan.

“Why are you wet kitten? You working after all,” he teased as he sped up his fingers, the glide easy as he spread your arousal around your clit.

“Minho…fuck!” You moaned as he slightly applied more pressure.

You gripped his arms as your breath came out in pants, your high approaching hard and fast. Minho bit his lips and watched you fall apart on his fingers, chuckling as you began to rock your hips.

“That’s it kitten, so naughty getting off on the job. Echo is on the other end of this line. He can hear you. Every. Single. Word. “

You mewled out as you released over his fingers, your squeals high pitched as Minho continued to circle your clit, his eyes straight on yours.

You slowly came down, resting your head on his chest and tried to regulate your breathing. Minho removed his fingers and sucked them into his mouth and moaned as he tasted you.

“So sweet kitten,” he sighed as he walked back to the panel and pressed the pause button again, the elevator moving once more.

You were quiet as it continued its ascent. You arrived at the pent house floor, the doors slowly opening revealing a long dark hallway. Minho exited first, with you following closely behind.

The floor was quiet, eerily so. You got an uneasy feeling that someone was watching you, their eyes peering from behind a corner waiting to pounce. You activated your stealth mode, your footsteps becoming light and airy.

Minho came to a sudden stop, his ears glowing as they picked up a sound from one of the many rooms. He turned to the right and coming out of the shadows was a man and woman, dressed similarly, with a belt full of knives and an assault rifle in their hands.

They must be Nyx and Strider, the other guards for the company. You held your breath as they got closer but then stopped in their tracks, guns raised at the ready.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man yelled as he adjusted his gun, ready to fire at a moments notice.

Minho raised his hands up and kept eye contact on the two guards. “We mean no harm, just strolling through.”

“Stop fucking with us, I will shoot no questions asked.”

You knew they would, they seemed more of the shoot now ask later type of people. You could hear Echo telling you and Minho to keep stalling as he worked on a solution.

“Hey now,” you said as you stepped forward, “let’s not be hostile, let’s be friends yeah? Or how about this, I’ll give you a free show yeah? I’m sure you’re interested in what I have to offer,” you cooed.

You could feel Minho bristle in anger behind you but you paid him no mind. The two guards slightly lowered their guns as you started to take your jacket off, revealing your piercings and cleavage.

Their eyes honed in on your breasts as you started to untie the tie on your shirt, areas of skin being revealed inch by inch. Right as you were about to whisk your top off, an alarm sounded elsewhere in the building, loud and shrill in the quiet building.

“Shit,” Strider cursed under his breath.

“Sorry I’m sure you had lots of offer for us sweetheart but duty calls.”

Suddenly, they opened fire causing you to shriek as a rain of bullets pelted your way. There were yellow and orange flashes of lights as the guns went off, the shooters aiming anywhere they could as they swept the area.

Minho quickly pushed you out of the way, both of you rolling slightly on the ground, but away from the parade of bullets. You huddled against him as you listened to the gunfire, your mind going back to the incident with Astra.

Minho wrapped his arms around you to cradle you to him as smoke filled the hallway, providing cover over both of you. He could tell you were scared as you trembled in his arms.

You’re not sure how long you both stayed huddled like that, but minutes passed as the gunfire ceased and the smoke lifted. Minho activated his hearing enhancement, listening for any sign of movement or chatter.

Hearing neither he sat up a little bringing you with him.

“Are you okay kitten?” He asked, concern in his voice as he assessed you.

You nodded yes and wiped a stray tear that had fallen down your face.

“Good. Now don’t ever do that again. You are mine got it?” Minho countered, his voice gruff.

“Okay,” you agreed, still a little shaken up from what just happened.

As you two sat there, Echo came on and said, “you both should be clear the rest of the way. Get the data and get out of there.”

Minho nodded and stood up, offering his hand to you. You grabbed it and pulled yourself up, dusting the soot and dust from your clothes. You tied your top back and started to walk towards Cipher’s office.

As you came to the double doors, Echo made himself known again. “Doors unlocked. Good luck.”

Minho pushed them open and stepped in with you following behind. You took in the large office, spotless and industrial seeming, no ounce of personality in the space. Along one wall was a couch with many pillows, seeming the comfiest spot in the arid room. On the other wall was a large panel with blinking lights, a soft motor running in the background.

As you both approached, you expected an alarm to go off from some invisible barrier, but nothing happened, the area quiet as ever.

“Okay, let’s do this. Kitten?”

You looked at Minho in surprise. He was gesturing for you to walk forward and started the transfer. You smiled and looked at the panel, searching for a terminal to input your device.

Once you located it, you inserted the device, a click sounding as you pressed start. In less than a few seconds, the transfer was done and you logged off and relaxed your device back in your pocket.

“Got it, let’s go.”

Minho smiled at you and took your hand as both of you quickly exited the barren office.

“Excellent work!” Echo exclaimed, “Now get out. We’ll meet back at Neon City.”

You both backtracked your steps, shockingly not running into any more personnel. It seemed strange but stopping wasn’t an option, so you continued to head for the side door.

As you both stepped out into the blazing sun, you shielded your eyes as they adjusted the the bright light. Minho led you to the car, starting it and immediately pressing the gas once you were in.

“Fuck, we did it.” You said in awe, eyeing the piece of data in your inventory.

“Of course kitten, we make a great team huh,” Minho teased.

You chuckled and looked out the window, watching as Farlan disappeared and the scenery slowly turned back into run down Rosora. Minho didn’t stop until he got to Cyberlina, parking in the spot he usually used when he trained you.

You walked to Hyunjin’s bar, smiling big as you approached him. His eyes lit up at the sight of you followed by a look of relief as he realized you were safe. He eyed Minho, sizing him up as you got closer to him. He knew of your feelings about Minho, but he wasn’t up to speed about your little night spent together yet, so you understood his hesitation.

Hyunjin pointed you to one of the private rooms and you both entered the small room to join Chan, Astra, Echo and a few others.

“Welcome back you two,” Chan said as he gave you both a wide grin.

You and Minho sat down amongst the cheers. You picked up a beer and popped the cap and took a long swig, savoring the wheaty taste on your tongue.

“Now where’s the data? Let’s crack this puppy open.”

You transferred the file to Chan who immediately got to work cracking the code to unlock the file. Echo pitched in when needed and between the both of them, the my were successful. Everyone held their breath as they waited to see what the secret was, the one that would make them rich.

However, as time went on, Chan frowned as he didn’t seem to like what he was looking at.

“There’s no code here…it’s not here!” He said, his voice getting louder with each word.

“What do you mean it’s not there?” You asked incredulously.

Chan sat in silence, his face red and eyes murderous as he considered the possibilities of what could have gone wrong. The only thing you could think of was you and Minho were duped and maybe Onyx Corp. knew you were coming, replacing the original code with a fake.

If that’s the case, then who? Who would betray the group like that?

“We will get that code, we have to…” Chan said as he now paced the small room, back and forth, back and forth.

There was silence as everyone looked at the leader, wondering what was going to happen now. The buyer would be expecting the data soon and no one had it.

Chan stopped pacing and stared out at everyone, “We will meet up tomorrow, I need to come up with a plan.”

With that, he walked out of the door, his hands balled up into fists, everyone else filed out after him…everyone except you and Minho. You both sat in silence, considering what had just occurred. What would happen now?

You looked up as the door opened and Hyunjin walked in, a couple of shot glasses and a bottle in hand.

“Figured this was called for,” he said as he sat the items down and then sat on the couch next to you.

He popped open the bottle and filled each shot glass up before handing you each one. You took yours and tossed it back, flinching as the liquor slid down your throat and settled in your stomach. Hyunjin filled your glass up once more and you tossed it back before leaning on the couch, your gaze to the ceiling.

There goes your chance at a better life, the 50 million neuro credits on your mind. You could have upgraded your apartment to a less shittier one. Food would be plentiful as you wouldn’t have to worry about how you would pay. You wouldn’t have had to work for a while if you didn’t want to.

But most of all, the future would have been bright for all, as an enhancement could have been made to help those who were injured or ill, saving their lives as they wouldn’t have to worry about Neuro credits and paying for treatment. All of that went out the window with this dupe.

At first you felt sad, your heart sinking as this dream disappeared, slowly getting further and further out of reach. How many others had to suffer at the hands of the wealthy? They sat in their fancy homes, never having to worry about where their meals would come from, or having to worry about succumbing to illness like your family did. They didn’t have to work dangerous jobs just to afford rent for a shitty apartment.

No, they didn’t care and they definitely don’t want this information getting out, to help society as a whole. Here, you could have anything technologically advanced except for the most basic needs, which definitely was fucked up.

As time passed and you sat there in silence, listening to the bass of the beat playing outside the door, you felt your rage grow, slowly and steadily, the fire lighting in your heart. You were going to get that data if it was the last thing you’d do on this miserable earth.

Turning to Minho, you crossed your arms demanding his attention. He raised his eyebrows at you, his cheeks already flushed from the liquor, as he waited for you to speak.

“We’re going to get that data. We have to. I won’t let them get away with this. Are you with me?”

Minho looked at you for a while, his expression unreadable. You could hear Hyunjin shuffle behind you and clear his throat, most likely feeling unease at your determination. You ignored him however and continued to stare at Minho, waiting his answer.

Finally, Minho let out a sigh and sat up straighter, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You didn’t dare look away, your gaze set on his as you awaited his answer with bated breath.

Minho smirked and leaned over to press a wet kiss to your lips before pulling back and saying with finality, “Absolutely. Let’s go show those bastards.”

You grinned and placed your hand over his, nuzzling your face into his palm. Who would have thought you would fall for this stubborn and demanding man? You’re happy you did and now you have a partner in crime.

You thought for a while and then turned to Hyunjin while still holding Minho’s hand. You had the future to plan revenge against Onyx corp. but tonight, you could be carefree for a little with your lover and best friend right?

“What’s up?” Hyunjin asked, seeing the question burning in your eyes.

You grinned at his response, knowing your best friend always knows what’s on your mind.

So with resolve you said, “Bring out the best stock you have. I think we need to forget what happened tonight and then tomorrow start to plan our attack against those bastards.”

Hyunjin nodded and got up to leave while Minho smirked, satisfied with your plan. Oh Onyx Corp. will not know what hit them by the time you were done.

That’s for damn sure.

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