#and sit on his ass and watch tv or sleep when he's not working | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pirateprincessblog · 4 months ago

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let me help

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after giving birth and getting bored at home, you come back to work. nothing has changed, except the pair of eyes that look at you in a different light in the corner of the room. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: choi jongho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: singlemother!reader, pervy!jongho, needy!reader, dom!jongho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: milf!reader, breastplay, oral fixation, breastfeeding (LIKE TWO DROPS BEAR WITH ME), dry humping

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none? 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this was so NOT inspired by a crazy reddit post i saw on tiktok lmao, also reader is not necessarily big boobed just imagine whatever u want

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

***

being pregnant is hard. giving birth is harder. raising an actual pocket sized human was supposed to be the hardest. yet there she is, your own child, sleeping in her crib without a single care in the world. it's been weeks since you gave birth now, and you don't know what you're doing right, but this baby might be the calmest baby in the world. almost always asleep, and when awake, laughing her ass off until she tires herself to sleep again.

frankly, you are bored. you were ready for crying, screaming, projectile fluids, messes, and whatnot. however, this child appears to be toying with you. it laughs in your face, almost as if mocking you for having to stay at home. besides sleeping, she eats quite well. your breasts are beginning to feel sensitive, but you're not complaining just yet, in case it gets worse.

"mom, i want to-" you start speaking one day, switching channels on the tv as the baby naps on your chest.

"hush! you're gonna wake her up!" the woman on the other couch whisper-yells at you.

"you did not just say that. she's passed out, look at her!" you gently pat her back, seeking a reaction. but when she only exhales in her sleep, you look at your mother with a raised eyebrow. "see? like a little drunkie."

"fine, fine. whatever. what did you want to say?"

"i want to go back to work."

"absolutely not."

"why not?!"

"you just had a baby!"

"yeah, weeks ago!"

the woman sighs, slapping her hands on her thighs in disbelief. "are you crazy?"

rolling your eyes, you sit up straight, picking the baby up and placing her on the blanket on the couch. she yawns in her sleep, and her small hands reach out to search for anything to grab on for comfort. she finds the ends of your sleeves, squeezing the fabric between her chubby fingers before dozing off again.

"mom, i honestly don't know what to do with myself anymore. i cleaned the house so many times for the past few weeks, as if i committed a crime and am trying to erase all the evidence. i have no desire for any hobbies or sports, i just want to go back to work. could you watch her for a few hours every now and then? it's not like it's every day."

just in time, your father enters the living room. seeing that he has helped himself to a bottle of beer your ex has left in the basement, you can't help but laugh.

"what is it?" he asks, noticing the difference in the energy of the room.

"your daughter wants to go back to work."

"oh, my! congratulati-"

"no! you're not supposed to be on her side." your mother slaps his shoulder, causing him to frown at her and gently push her off with that same shoulder.

"come on, mary. she's gonna die of boredom. besides, i'm sure she can adjust her schedule and shorten her working hours?"

you nod, feeling grateful that at least someone understands you. you don't give your mother a chance to protest, you wouldn't listen to her anyway. your fingers are already dialing the company, notifying them of your return.

***

your makeup and hair station awaits you just like you left it: the silly polaroids still taped on the corners of it, along with random bows and flowers. a small bouquet of fresh flowers awaits you, with an attached note and a baby store gift card.

𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽, 𝔀𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾!

𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼,

𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓮𝔃

soon after, you are bombarded with hugs and questions, first from the members then the staff.

"wow, i can't believe a whole baby came out of you! that's so weird."

wooyoung earns himself a smack to the back of his head for that, hongjoong and seonghwa looking at him disapprovingly. "you can't say that, you dumbass."

"what? that's incredible! did it hurt?"

"wooyoung, don't be so-"

"oh, it's fine. let him ask." you come to his defense. "it did hurt, like a bitch. my ex had a big head, you figure out the rest."

the rest of the day goes fast, boys enjoying asking you questions and telling you about what you've missed, and you happily answering those questions and praising them for their progress. one person doesn't speak to you, and instead chooses to sit in the corner of the room, scrolling on his phone. jongho has barely looked at you after giving you a hug and congratulating you, opting for silence instead of engaging in the conversation. you don't talk to him, instead giving him peace.

was he angry that you left? especially during an important time, when they grew as a group and needed as much help as possible? after all, you weren't only their stylist, you were there when they needed help, comforting and whatnot. you're probably the only one who knew of their crushes, secret short relationships and struggles. and you've all kept it that way for a long time, and they still trust you. not once have you betrayed their trust, and being older than them, it makes it easier for them to lay all their concerns in you.

you're sad that you weren't there to experience coachella with them, but they made sure to show you picture and videos, even gave you mingi's bucket hat that had an autograph of other coachella performers on it.

"oh, i can't take this." you try declining, shoving the hat back in mingi's hands.

"sure you can. just take it."

after going back and forth with him, you finally give up, taking the hat and placing it on the corner of the mirror, as if it was wearing it. one by one, they are done with their preparations and leave the room. there's still time until the show, yet the screaming outside is so loud one would think the boys went out already. jongho stays sitting on the couch, not giving you any attention. it gives you time to adjust your bra, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric and giving you a hard time. you wish you could just take it off, but with your luck, you would lactate all over the place.

having a sundress on doesn't make it any easier, your flesh painfully starting to poke out of it. not only did you not fix the situation, you also caused them to become swollen and painful. you sigh, defeated. the only thing left to do is finish jongho quickly and go home. maybe your mother was right. what were you thinking, wearing the dress anyway? guess those oversized clothes during your pregnancy grew onto you. before, you wouldn't be caught dead in a hoodie or a simple t-shirt outside of your home.

"jjong?" you call once you prepare the station for him. when he doesn't reply, your raise your head to look at him through the mirror, and find him already staring at you. "jongho?"

he jolts, cheeks painted pink. "yes?"

"will you come over so i can finish you?"

"yeah, sure."

the young man sits in the chair, squirming for the most of the time. everything seems to go smoothly, until you have to get closer to do his eye makeup. just a hint of eyeliner and eyeshadow seems to be taking ages now, with jongho shuffling and blinking for a worrying amount of time.

"jongho, sweetheart, i need you to stay still if you want to be out of here soon."

by the time he listens, the liquid liner has dried off on the brush, and you turn around to reach into the black bottle to reapply it. a sharp pain goes through one of your breasts, causing you to yelp and drop the brush and spill the bottle all over the counter. jongho opens his eyes, then sits up straight, worry painted on his features.

"are you okay?"

"yeah, just- give me a second."

you hold onto your breasts, back turned to him. still in pain, you don't care if he sees what you're doing. all you want is for it to stop.

"does it... hurt?" he asks carefully, peeking at you through the mirror.

you hum, gently squeezing them in hopes to relieve it.

"can i help in any way?"

"no, there's not much you can do. unless you want to be breastfed so my milk ducts get unclogged." you laugh awkwardly, eyes still fixed on the mess you've created on the counter.

when you don't hear any laughing from his side, you turn around, only to find him dead serious. you stutter, embarrassment flooding your cheeks as you realize you can't really joke about these things with them. after all, they are your clients.

"sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfort-"

"i'll do it."

at that moment, the door opens, san poking his head through. "hey dude, there's like only a handful of snacks left for you, you better hurry up."

"it's fine." jongho replies, as calm as ever.

you still stand there, processing what he said. san shrugs, then the door closes again, and the man in front of you has his full attention on you.

"will that help relieve the pain?"

"i mean- i- i usually just breastfeed my daughter and it goes away. i could try pumping-"

"i'll help." he is persistent, still maintaining a poker face. it makes you lower your gaze, eyes fixed on his hands resting in his lap. he makes it so difficult to read his emotions.

"jongho, you- you can't be saying stuff like that."

you've never stuttered like this in front of anyone. not even your ex husband had you feeling this nervous under his gaze, not at the beginning of your relationship, not at the end. not ever. yet choi jongho looks at you so intensely, making your cheeks hot and your brain a mess.

"let me just finish you off quickly and then i can go home and solve the issue."

the man sits there for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. he looks at your hands, still cupping your breasts, and without a word leaves his chair.

"wait, where are you-"

he locks the door, then tries it a few times to make sure nobody can get in. you stand still, afraid to move or say anything. not until he does something. he seems to take a few moments to think about the situation he has created. he said it so causally. just what was going on in his mind?

is the new state you're in doing something to him? is that why he was refusing to interact with you?

"jongho, just get back in the chair so you can be a free man. come on."

"no. i want to help."

"fine. what, do you want me to just whip out my tits and let you do whatever to them?" you roll your eyes, avoiding to look at him.

you miss the way he smirks, and only look at him once he sits back on the chair in front of you. you yelp, hands flying to his shoulders as he pulls you to sit on his lap. there is more than just wanting to help, you're sure of it now.

his fingers toy with the outline of your sundress, knuckles caressing the swollen flesh along the way. you can't help but shiver, hands still firmly planted on his shoulders.

"sit," he orders quietly, once he notices you're hovering over his lap. when you fail to listen, he pushes you down, right on his hard crotch. "may i?"

you nod, hurriedly, as if he will change his mind if you take too long. you haven't been touched, not even by yourself, for months. ever since your husband left you, right at the beginning of your pregnancy, you were constantly nervous, sick, and whatnot. pleasure was the last thing on your mind. and even though jongho is trying to do a nice thing, your brain cannot help but think of it as a sexual interaction.

which is why you are dripping already, his fingers barely touching you as he unties the little bow that holds the front of the sundress together. he looks at your plain white bra, and both of your realize just how perfect of a choice you made for today. in hooks in the front, and it takes jongho less than a second to unhook it with a single hand.

your swollen breasts now freely spill from the loose fabric, freeing your sensitive and swollen nipples that are begging for release. the dark haired man cups them, gently kneading as if he does that every day. he doesn't squeeze them, and you are thankful that he knows what he is doing. and impressed.

his thumbs swipe over your nipples, and a hiss escapes your mouth.

"hurts?"

you nod, face twisting with pain as he tests the waters and tries various motions on them.

"they're... bigger." he comments.

"yeah... i'm quite sad i don't get to keep them."

he chuckles, and so do you, finally feeling a little relaxed. nothing about your current state should make you relaxed. you should be jumping off that chair, finish his look at go home. not... subconsciously dry hump him.

"you know, i thought my crush on you would go away when you got married. it didn't. i thought it would go away when you got pregnant. it didn't. i thought it would for sure go away when you gave birth. and guess what? it only got worse."

with your jaw dropped, all you can do is stare at him. so there was a hidden motive after all.

"i'm going to put it in my mouth now. is that okay?"

"jongho, none of this is okay." you say, your brain working against your heart. and your pussy.

"it's fine. i'm just helping you. that's all."

"yeah, well, putting my nipple in your mouth isn't what one might consider help- oh!" he swipes his tongue over the hardened nipple, finally making you shut up.

his hand cups your breast, gently squeezing it before he attaches his lips to it. your hands instinctively grab at his hair, almost shoving his head into your chest. he chuckles, enjoying how desperate you are when he hasn't done anything properly yet.

your hips grind on his, and you aren't aware of it until the surface beneath you gets harder and harder. jongho grunts against your chest when you roll your hips properly, and it makes you stop. you try pushing him away, ready to start apologizing over and over again. but jongho simply lets go of your breasts, only to put his hands on your ass and help you roll your hips again.

his lips finally start sucking on the tense bud, causing you to yelp in pain. he squeezes your ass, as a way to comfort you. his tongue swipes over your nipple every now and then between sucking, just to soothe you. one hand cups your breast again, gently squeezing it in hopes that it will help.

this time, he is the one to yelp. you look down, embarrassment flooding your cheeks once again. your fingers have tangled themselves in his dark locks, accidentally pulling a bit harder and causing him pain.

"it's alright," he assures, smiling at you. "should i continue?"

"yes, please."

he wraps his lips around the nipple once again, sucking softly. the sight has your panties drenched; your client sitting on your chair, sucking on your tit, while you hold onto him for dear life and grind on him. the rough fabric of his jeans, combined with the fabric of your underwear, deliciously rubs against your clit, causing the pleasure to start building up in your lower stomach. you've almost forgotten about the pain, jongho's now swollen lips kissing and tugging at both of your nipples, and your crotch getting all the attention.

you no longer care about being quiet, moans and gasps shamelessly multiplying and getting louder, hips working relentlessly and fingers tugging his hair. never getting this close before, you force yourself to stop and pull away from him.

"what, what is it?" he asks, shiny eyes looking up at you.

"nothing, i-" you look down, picking the hem of your dress up and revealing a wet spot on his crotch. "i'm going to... you know."

it feels illegal to say the word.

"cum?" he finishes for you.

"yes."

"why did you stop?"

you sigh. your hands caress his cheeks and hair, fixing his messy state. "it's been a while. i don't want to cum with my clothes on. on my client's lap."

jongho takes a moment to think. you find out that it is not a good thing to let him do that. he picks you up, carrying you all the way to the couch where he sat. you find yourself laying on the soft surface, while jongho places a pillow under your head, and one under your lower back.

"can you hold this here for me?" he scrunches the ends of your dress under your chest, and you listen. "do you feel any better?"

"i mean... it's still clogged. maybe try a little harder?"

he takes it as a challenge, almost jumping on you like a starved animal. your hands now grip at the fabric on his back, nails digging into it. he doesn't protest, instead burying his head further into your chest and leaving a few feathery kisses before he takes your breast in his mouth again. just as you asked, he sucks harder. it hurts, more than before. your moans turn into whines and almost sobs, fingers hopelessly clawing at his back but not yet asking him to stop. tears threaten to spill down your cheeks, and you can barely contain them.

the man uses his hand to massage the other breast, caressing it, and the other to spread your legs so he can fit between them better. instead of going back to cup the breast he is currently working on, he slides it up your thigh, all the was to the outline of your panties. he pushes them aside, then gently brings his fingers to your folds.

"you don't- ah!" he finds your clit, giving it an experimental rub, "you don't have to do that."

"i want to." he mumbles, voice lower and raspier than you've ever heard from him before. sensing that you have stopped breathing for a second, jongho looks up at you, mouth still wrapped around your sensitive bud. he only raises and eyebrow and smirks against you, before continuing his actions, eyes not once leaving yours.

you weren't a fan of keeping your eyes open during sexual encounters. your husband didn't care. but this? jongho seems to be aware of the power his stare holds, mostly because his fingers effortlessly slip past your folds and inside your aching hole. you can't find it in yourself to look away, too lost in the way his lips look on you, and his body fits between your legs.

"harder-" you whine. "suck harder."

he hums, sucking harder and harder, while his fingers slowly start abusing your hole. he graces you with deep strokes, knuckles disappearing inside of you and fingers scissoring. the room is filled with squelching, kissing and sucking noises, along with your shallow breathing and a few moans and yelps. his thumb finds your clit once again, rubbing it as he continues fingering you. a tingling sensation appears in your lower stomach again, this time faster and stronger.

"jjong-" you gasp, liquid spilling from your breast and in his mouth. "fuck!"

he turns to the other one, repeating the process, all while his hand inches you closer and closer to the release you haven't tasted in months. white liquid drips down both of your breasts, nipples now more tense than ever.

he grunts along with you, grinding his hips on your leg. the man doesn't waste a single moment before licking away all the liquid that decorates your shaking body. the sight sends you over the edge, along with his fingers in your hole and his soft panting.

with your head thrown back over the edge of the couch, you find your body twitching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. even after jongho is done cleaning your mess that he caused, you have trouble catching your breath and calming yourself.

"hey, hey. i got you." he speaks softly, cupping your face.

he looks at you with different eyes now; soft and caring. a complete opposite of the lustful and intense one you just saw moments ago.

"feeling better?"

you nod, gulping. "i- thank you?"

he laughs, then plants a kiss on your forehead. "thank you."

"what for?"

"for making my fantasy come true."

"you're crazy," you laugh.

"for you, yes. now, let me help you get cleaned and dressed, so i can feel like i have shred of dignity before i ask you out."

"i- oh. but wait, what about you? did you...?"

he stands up, giving you space to stretch your limbs. he reveals a wet patch on his crotch, and not the one you made. "yeah... no sane man could survive this without cumming in his pants. you can't blame me."

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flippinpancakes64 · 4 months ago

Note

cullens w/ a reader who lovesss to cuddle?

The Cullens with a Cuddly S/O

Currently fighting the sleep demons rn so Idk if this will even make sense but whatever full send

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like this

Edward:

We already know he's down

I mean like half of the first book/movie is him watching Bella sleep

He just likes to be nearby

So cuddling up to your side is no burden to him

He'll ask a lot if you're too cold or if you want him to move

He just wants you to be comfortable

After you've established that you do, indeed, like his cuddles, expect them all the time

If the time or place allows him to be right by your side, he is there

"Hey I just rented a new movie, do you wanna come over and watch it?"

"What movie?"

"Uh-"

"I'm on my way, have my blankets ready."

Alice:

She's a pretty energetic person

So I feel like she'd need to either be doing something or talking

So yes she will cuddle, but she needs the TV on

Or she needs to be talking your ear off

She loves being so close though

She's like a lizard she loves the warmth

She doesn't mind if you fall asleep, she'll keep talking

But especially if it's late at night, she loves being so close to you

Btw she's the little spoon or literally laying on top of you

I would recommend investing in a nice heated blanket

Jasper:

I have a feeling he'd love it

He strikes me as the type to be able to stare at a wall for hours on end and not get bored

So he doesn't mind laying with you the whole night

He would lay in one spot for days if you wanted him to

He would be so happy when you asked him the first time though

He has a bit of a hard time grasping that you actually do love him, so small reminders like this go a long way

Is another one who's hyper-aware

Constantly making sure you're comfortable

He would find your even breaths and calm mind soothing

It's his new favorite couples activity btw

Rosalie:

I've mentioned it before but I think she's active at all hours

Either she's at school, hunting, or working on her cars

She just doesn't like to be bored

So cuddling isn't her favorite

Not to say she won't do it

Just that she won't do it for super long stretches of time

She'll cuddle for a movie, or until you go to sleep

But then she likes to get back to doing something

It's understandable, you can go to sleep, she can't

If you ask her to, though, she will stay the whole night

And she won't complain

She also doesn't have a preference on cuddling position

Emmett:

He's definitely more into like casual cuddling

Does that make sense?

Like he loves holding you close on the couch while he's watching a game

And he loves sitting you in his lap when he's playing a card game or doing homework

But he doesn't really like laying in bed for hours

So sort of similar to Rosalie

He just gets restless

He's squirmy too

He wakes you up throughout the night because he moves so much

Cruel injustice

But on the bright side, if he was able to sleep he'd be a loud ass snorer so at least you don't have to deal with that

Esme:

She would be another snuggle enjoyer

She loves the closeness of it

It makes her feel so connected to you

And she has no qualms about when or where

It's the middle of the day and she's outside working on the garden but you want to cuddle?

Okay just let her shower first

She would prefer to be the little spoon

Idk why that's just how it is

Carlisle:

Carlisle "Cuddle" Cullen

Anytime, anywhere

He just misses you a lot when he's at work

So he loves to make up for lost time by having you right there with him

Loves doing paperwork with you in his lap

Or having his arms around you at all times

And of course he will lay with you for the whole night

He tends to lay on his back

But that's just his natural

He will move however you need him to

He only cuddles fully clothed tho

He knows he's cold

So he knows you will need the extra layers between you two

Vampire! Bella:

She's always down

Sleeping is one of the things she misses the most about being human

So laying there with you while you sleep is the closest she can get to the real thing

She likes to cuddle while facing you

Face to face yk

But her one bad habit is that she forgets that she is freezing

Chronically puts her hands under your shirt or her toes behind your knees

"Ah! Cold!"

"Shit, sorry"

606 notes · View notes

punkshort · 11 months ago

Text

i'll be home for christmas | part two

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)

WC: 12K

A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.

Series Masterlist

Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.

That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.

Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.

He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.

It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.

"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.

"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.

"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.

"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.

"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.

"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.

"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.

"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.

"Go brush your teeth," he said.

"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."

She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.

"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.

"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."

Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered.

"What's the big deal?"

Joel sat up and opened his eyes.

"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.

"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.

"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."

"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.

Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.

"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"

Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.

"I know that look," he said, still grinning.

"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."

"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.

"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.

"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.

"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."

"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.

You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.

Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place

You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.

With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.

You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.

"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.

"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.

"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.

"What?" you asked loudly.

"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?

"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.

"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.

"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.

"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.

"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.

"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"

"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.

"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.

"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.

"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.

"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.

"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.

"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.

"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.

"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.

"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"

"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.

"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.

Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.

Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?

You grinned as you typed out a response.

You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)

Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.

You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off

You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.

Joel Miller: What are you doing later?

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.

You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...

Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.

You: oh? lol

Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.

You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.

You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?

Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.

"Hi," you said breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.

"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.

You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.

"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.

He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.

Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.

"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."

"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.

"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.

He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.

"Everythin' okay?"

You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.

"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"

He smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.

"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.

He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.

"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.

You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."

You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.

"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."

You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.

"What's the story with the nickname?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.

"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.

"Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.

"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.

"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.

"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."

"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.

"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"

"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.

"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."

Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.

"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.

"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.

"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"

"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."

"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.

He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.

"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.

"Brighten my day," he clarified.

You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.

"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"

You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.

"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.

"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.

"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.

"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.

"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.

"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.

"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."

His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."

He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.

"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.

"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.

"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.

As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.

"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.

"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.

He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.

"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.

"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.

"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."

That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.

"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."

Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.

"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."

Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.

"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."

"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.

"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.

"No, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.

He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.

"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."

Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.

"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."

You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.

"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."

He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.

"Joel-"

"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."

"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.

He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."

"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.

He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.

Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.

"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.

Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.

He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.

He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.

You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.

"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.

"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."

He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.

You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.

He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.

He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.

You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.

He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.

"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"

"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.

"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.

"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.

"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."

"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.

"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"

You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.

"Sarah, this is-"

"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.

She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.

"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.

"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.

You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.

"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.

"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."

You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.

"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.

"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.

"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."

"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"

"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.

"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."

"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.

"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.

"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."

You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.

"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."

Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.

"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.

"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."

You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.

"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.

"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.

Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.

"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.

"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.

"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.

Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.

When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.

Fuck, this was going to be so hard.

"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.

"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"

Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.

"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.

"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.

"Then what's the problem?"

Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.

"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.

"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.

"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."

"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.

If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.

Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.

"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"

Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.

"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.

You: good morning :)

Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.

You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing

Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?

You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.

You: I was thinking about you...

Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?

You: VERY ;)

His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.

Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?

You smirked and bit down on your lip.

You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.

Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?

The answer came back almost immediately.

You: nothing

He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.

Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.

You: i'm sorry ;)

You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?

Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.

Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?

He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.

Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.

He sent his second text right as your reply came through.

You: I would love to!

He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.

Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.

Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.

"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.

"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.

"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.

"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.

"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.

Sydney: OMG!!!!!!

You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.

"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.

"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."

"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.

"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"

"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"

"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."

"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"

"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.

"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"

You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.

"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.

"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.

"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.

"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.

Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.

He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.

"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.

"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.

Fuck the camera, let them see.

You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.

"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.

He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.

On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.

As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?

Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.

"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.

You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.

Love? Oh, no.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"

"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.

"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."

"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.

"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.

"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."

You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.

When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.

Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.

The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.

The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.

When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.

He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.

"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.

"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."

"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.

"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.

"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."

"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"

"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.

"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.

"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.

"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.

"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."

"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."

"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"

"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.

"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.

After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.

He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.

He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.

He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.

Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.

"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.

"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.

"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Oh.

"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.

At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.

Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.

"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.

"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.

"What d'you want, then?"

You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.

"I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.

You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.

You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.

"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.

He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?

"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.

"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.

"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.

"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.

You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.

Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.

"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.

You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.

"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"

"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."

His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.

"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."

He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.

You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.

He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.

He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.

He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.

He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.

"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.

"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.

He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.

Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.

"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.

"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.

You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.

You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.

He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.

"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."

You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.

"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.

"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.

You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.

He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.

"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.

"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.

"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.

He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you

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wannaeatramyeon · 4 months ago

Text

DG x Reader: Manager and their Idol

8.5k. G/N. Soft, colleagues to lover (guess I love this trope). Masterlists

You had imagined life as a K-Pop idol manager to be much more glamorous.

You pity your young naive self. The one that envisaged schmoozing with stars and rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers, and instead set you on this horrid, lacklustre path.

What you didn't expect was the amount of time playing driver. Carting that stupid pink haired brat around. Waiting on him hand and foot during shoots and interviews, and being at his beck and call.

You have saved his ass more times than you can recall, ran through scripts with him, practised his stupid dances and moves alongside, protected him from unhinged fans and reporters and scavengers.

And yet you can count on one hand the amount of times he has thanked you.

Actually no, it didn't require any hands because he has thanked you exactly zero times for all your early mornings and late nights and for going above and beyond your duty.

Out of desperation, you had asked your boss if you could manage someone else and the request was declined.

"DG has taken a liking to you," she said, tone impressed as if that was something you should be proud of.

"Great," your smile comes out as more of a grimace.

And goddamn, this agency was so stupidly prestigious and the benefits and perks here really are second to none. Just why did Diego fucking Kang have to be their top idol.

The first time you crossed the threshold into his building, greeting the reception security guard and entering his penthouse keycode like you had been let in on the world's greatest secret, you had tiptoed around like a child in a museum. After all, this was DG's residence. The DG!

You had ooh-ed and aah-ed at every little thing.

Taking delight in seeing his interior design of choice, the type of candy that he snacks on, the shampoo and conditioner he uses, the way he organises his desk. This is the chair DG sits on to eat. This is the sofa DG lounges on to watch TV. This is the bed he sleeps in, the bath he uses, the toilet he-

Any wide eyed innocence and awe evaporated after your first week working together.

Today, you stab in the entry code and let the door shut with a bang.

You set his now cold coffee order on the kitchen counter and rifle with practised fingers through his unopened mail to see if there is anything you should draw his immediate attention to. You pick up his discarded clothes from the floor (and for fuck's sake, this suit jacket was on loan) and make your way to his bedroom where tufts of pink hair peeks out from under the cover.

"Good morning," you announce, locating the remote to open the blinds and letting in some sunlight.

Bedsheets rustle behind you.

"Good morning Diego," you repeat and give one warning, "I hope you're decent." With that, you throw the covers back to find the scantily dressed idol glaring up at you.

You remember the days when this sight would have made you weak at the knees. Seeing him half naked, in the flesh, freshly woken up with bedhead and half lidded eyes. It's what most of Korea dreams of, including yourself once upon a time.

Now all you feel is extreme irritation.

"Good morning," you say for the third time, plastering on a saccharine smile that you know DG sees clearly through because it is insincere as hell to anyone with half a brain cell. You let the fakeness shine through anyway.

For a split second, DG frowns as his eyes drop to your lips and then he pretends everything is good. Smiling back prettily, sharp canines on show and stretching. Lifting his arms overhead, showing a good stretch of pecs and abs and the line of muscle in a V pointing like an arrow straight down to his-

You roll your eyes.

"You're late." You throw the covers back over him and stride back towards the door. "We should have left half an hour ago." You leave out the part where you had been waiting downstairs in the car and after an hour of no show and no anything, you stomped your way up to his home.

DG, sensing your mood, adds oil to the fire with a smirk, "Why didn't you wake me then?"

If that idiot bothered to look at his phone, he would see a number of missed calls and unread messages from you.

Whatever.

"Hurry up."

DG has come across many people like yourself over the years. All cute and bright eyed, way too soft.

He never gave you any special treatment, for better or worse, and assumed that you would eventually burn out or give up and move on to something more worthwhile.

Unfortunately, in a rare turn of events, he had miscalculated.

Of course most people would be starstruck, it's only natural. But he mistook your sincerity and kind smile for ignorance and missed your sharp, observing gaze, and astute mind.

He's impressed, and he really can't remember the last time he was impressed.

In a matter of days of working together, you had managed to cut through the bullshit and within the month got him more compliant and docile than anyone else ever has.

Which should be a huge fucking problem, and raising red flags all over DG's mind.

...Except-

What's really troubling him right now, as he sulks in the passenger seat and you in the driver's, is that you have developed some sort of resistance to his charms.

Maybe a part of him does actually miss the you who he formed the first impression of. Who looked at him in wonder, with the same admiration that everyone else did.

Now that he knows you, he hates that he had thought that initial admiration was insignificant and worthless.

DG has a stash of candy in the car.

Or more accurately, you keep a stash of candy next to him to a) Shut him up and b) Keep him tolerable.

If DG wasn't so aloof, the fact that he has an incurable sweet tooth (and probably cavities to prove it) would have made headlines as a cute K-Pop fact and likely garnered sponsorship and advertising deals with all sorts of confectionary brands.

You had only found out during your adventures as his manager, rifling through his kitchen drawers trying to find his goddamn phone that he misplaced and you stumbled upon his stash of candy.

It really was a disgusting amount, something you'd expect a gaggle of grade schoolers at Halloween to hoard, not Diego goddamn Kang.

And then you also found out if he's not quiet and haughty in the car, making the atmosphere awkward, he likes to comment on your driving.

Who even sits in the passenger seat next to their 'chauffeur' anyway? He complains about you braking too suddenly and not accelerating fast enough. How you drive like an 80 year old with cataracts, and you're too slow when the light changes to green.

The turn in your relationship happened when you snapped at him to shut the fuck up after losing the final shred of your sanity on a three hour drive.

DG, to your dismay, didn’t miraculously lose his hearing and turns to you as you silently berate yourself for voicing the quiet thoughts out loud.

Although, you're in the deep end now. You're gonna get fired anyway, so if he says anything else you might as well give him a flick on the forehead or a pinch or maybe a punch to the face-

Instead, he laughs.

It's nothing like the laugh you have heard on TV and in interviews. The rehearsed and manicured 'haha' or cool chuckle that suits his shiny persona. It's kinda goofy and a lot endearing.

What's even more endearing is the way he does actually shut the fuck up for the rest of the journey. You like him a lot more after that.

So. You digress.

The candy is a way to keep the sweet toothed maniac quiet. Even if it doesn't work, at least it's harder to make out what insults he's slinging with a lollipop rattling around his mouth.

However, he has never ever shared any with you. Any of the candy that you stock, and pay for.

(That you technically claim back on company expenses, but you're trying to be self righteous here.)

Ever.

In all the months of working with him, he gobbles away happily even if your stomach is growling and you refuse to take any yourself out of principle.

Until-

"Here."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of your response and open mouth, DG leans into your personal space and feeds you some chewy strawberry something or another (which coincidentally are his least favourite), fingers lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second.

Three things happen in quick succession.

The burst of sugar hits your tongue.

You nearly choke.

You narrowly avoid swerving.

"Careful now," DG grins when you get the car and yourself under control, and glance at him with a scowl.

Good. That proves you're not completely immune to his charms.

That bastard has now taken it upon himself to feed you candy at every opportunity.

You wonder if he's doing some sort of Pavlov experiment. The sweetness trying to erase any sourness you feel towards him.

It sort of works, and you consider biting his fingers off one of these days.

You hear the crinkling of wrappers, one for him that he pops into his mouth, and one for you that he gives without asking.

You angle your head towards him, and his fingers graze your lips every time.

Neither of you comment on the change but the intimacy drives you a little crazy.

And DG too.

Because intimacy works both ways and damnit his little gesture to keep the pretty blush on your face has backfired.

The only form of intimacy he knows comes from discreet hookups and low key links. Not someone who is around day in, day out. Or anyone that goes deeper than one night stands and booty calls.

You're there, you're always there. Of course you are, you're his manager.

But today, he feels under the microscope with you standing a couple metres away and keen eyes watching the camera monitor.

It's a no nothing day. Standard schedule where he shoots a fragrance commercial and he exits a pool all wet and sultry, white t-shirt clinging to his muscled body.

Then another scene where he writhes around slightly on a sunbed and eye-fucks the camera.

How it sells a fragrance, he never knows. The mystery of showbiz.

"Cut! More powder!" The director shouts out, the crew springing into action and DG knows exactly why.

He feels strangely embarrassed and flustered, which has manifested into his cheeks being flushed, and god he can't even remember the last time he has been like this.

It’s out of character and he needs to get his head together.

As the make up artist hurriedly dabs on some foundation, you make your way over to him.

"Are you sick?" you ask, concerned and reaching out to feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

"I'm fine," He says, turning away from your attentiveness and staring at a point in the distance.

With most people, if DG wants them out of sight, they stay out of sight.

But as his manager, and a very competent one at that, it’s harder to get you to leave.

Not that DG wants you to either, don’t get him wrong.

The only constants he has around him are people who want something from him. And yes, he knows you’re only in his company because you work with him. However, he really can’t doubt the concern he always sees in your eyes. The compassion and empathy even when he makes you want to scream and tear your hair out.

His standoffish demeanour is not new to anyone. It’s part of his appeal to be quite honest.

Yet he feels bad over the next couple weeks as he turns it up to eleven and tries to create some distance. He registers the hurt on your face as he is extra short with his answers and behaviour.

Pandering to overinflated celebrity egos and the insane Korean work ethic often leads to after hour shoots and dinner delayed until past midnight.

Honestly, this wreaks havoc on your sleep schedule and your skin.

"Here." You retrieve DG's takeout from the paper bag.

A double portion of delicious fried chicken with a side of kimchi and pickles. It's a change of pace from what most idols order, yet he doesn't give two shits about calories or sodium intake and to add insult to injury, somehow manages to keep his trim figure.

You lament your soggy salad sitting at the bottom. As if it’s not sad enough right now - once you arrive home, the lettuce will be wilting and room temperature and you will eat it in your dimly lit apartment with nothing to keep you company except the sound of the TV.

DG notices you turning to leave his penthouse, and his mouth moves before his brain can.

"Aren't you staying?"

"What?" You double take at the question.

DG's company is usually worse than your lonely meal for one.

He’s annoying and you frequently want to slap him, but how he has been with you lately has been troubling and you actually feel a sense of relief at his offer.

(You had wondered if you might have been getting sacked up until this moment.)

Nevertheless, in all your time working alongside, you have never had a proper meal one on one together. Nothing more than you driving with one hand and the other hastily shoving a burger into your mouth as he looks on in disgust.

You would have dwelled on this more, wondering what's changed, what’s happened, but then-

"I'll share." DG nudges the box towards you, and the delicious scent of deep fried, battered goodness wafts along with it it

All your misgivings and your salad is forgotten.

Almost.

No, you were wrong.

Eating with DG, without any distractions such as traffic to navigate or other boisterous colleagues around, is unnerving. Disarming.

His haughtiness remains, but how haughty can someone be when munching on a drumstick.

All frostiness from the past weeks melts away as you both eat your way through his chicken.

He’s talking more tonight than you have heard in a while.

You find him funny, and really quite bitchy. Which you did know all along except it's much funnier now his slanderous comments aren't directed at you.

And has he always looked at you with such a piercing gaze? So intensely focused on what you have to say. Even if you're just complaining about your boss, blurring your lines of professionalism, he gives you his full attention.

You really can't remember the last time you have been in each other's company like this.

You loathe to admit that even with what an asshole he is, DG's shine hasn’t dulled enough for you that you don't understand the appeal.

Leaning forward, DG whispers into your ear.

To anyone else, it looks like an over-affectionate idol with their manager. If they could hear his words, "I'm going to kill you," they would think otherwise.

Ok, so this one is your fault.

The good times have to come to an end and maybe you should have been more careful with his pride and joy - some ridiculously overpriced and over-specced vehicle.

Taking advantage of the clear blue Seoul skies, the pink haired menace was the one who drove you today in his fancy imported sports car, but the speed limits and the rest of the traffic was not on his side.

Already running late, even for him, he parked somewhere convenient and illegal then passed you the keys, leaving you stranded on the sidewalk, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, as he strode off to meet his music producer and choreographer and left you to park his baby elsewhere.

Why he entrusted you with it, you're not sure.

You would have done it anyway though, because when else are you going to have an opportunity to drive a supercar, if your boss didn't call at that moment. Questioning your expenses and DG's schedule and confusing you about the fitting at a fashion house and hair styling appointment that you knew like the back of your hand but when someone is so confidently incorrect, you start to doubt yourself.

By the time you got off the phone after pacing up and down the street and checking and double checking DG's timetable, you finally make your way back to the car-

And see it in the middle of being compounded.

You had begged and pleaded with the two men who were having none of it and you left, tail between your legs, to beg and plead with the other man who you knew would also have none of it.

Damn, you hate it when you prove yourself right in these instances.

You know DG won't really kill you, but he will likely make your life hell for the next couple weeks.

A normal person being pissed off at you would probably result in the silent treatment until tempers cool down.

DG does the opposite. Sort of.

He takes pleasure in making things as awkward for you as possible, until you're squirming in your seat trying to stay professional, thinking about your job and your rent and your bills; or torn between wanting the ground to swallow you up.

Around other people, your boss, your colleagues, his colleagues, he sidles up to you all smiles and soft looks. Slips purposely into banmal, and then oopsy, pretends that he didn't mean to be so informal with you around others.

Gossip soon stirs about your and DG's close relationship, if there's something else going on. Only you can see the mischief in his eyes and the malice in his smile and you think about yanking him by the ear and demanding to know what he is playing at.

Alone, he denies any sort of miscreant behaviour. Barely listening to you complaining and snapping at him. Ending with him outright ignoring you and you fume even harder.

This time, you're not sure the punishment even fits the crime.

Any guilt soon dissipates when his car is returned in perfect condition within a couple days but his performance lasts for weeks.

Teasing you has always been fun for DG - when your cheeks dust angrily with pink and your eyes burn with fire.

The equivalent of a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails in the school yard.

Meetings with HNH Group usually do not involve you. If it does, at most you are waiting in the car.

Luckily, there are also an assortment of cafes and restaurants within a stone's throw and it gives you some time to debrief and catch a breather from following DG's hectic schedule.

The downside is you're never sure if a two hour meeting will be condensed to fifteen minutes or if a quick catch up with Charles Choi and other Executives turns into an all nighter.

There's been days where you have ordered a meal, then had to abandon it with a sigh and a longing look as you spot DG striding out of the building looking pissed off that you're not already there, or stayed in the vehicle with the engine running and your stomach rumbling as short appointments overshoot.

Maybe this is another consequence from DG being petty and irate with you for getting his car towed - you're left snoozing at the steering wheel of your runaround, the idol standard-issue luxury minivan, waiting for his return.

It's far too late in the evening for anywhere to be open, only the fluorescent lights of convenience stores and glare of the HNH logo illuminates the streets.

DG opens the sliding door, climbs into the back and slams it hard enough to jerk you awake and rattle the entire van.

He’s sitting by himself in the back, which is odd enough in itself.

As you blink away the dregs of sleep, in the rearview mirror, you notice the stiffness in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. His eyes stare vacantly out the window. DG is clearly upset about something, enough to crack through his aloof veneer.

"Are you ok?" You don't get a response, not even a passing glance.

Obviously something has gone wrong with the HNH Group meeting and the stress has manifested.

You wrack your brains thinking of something that might cheer up this asshole and you think of the only thing that improves your mood when you're on the verge of a breakdown.

(Usually due to the aforementioned asshole in your current presence).

"Tteokbokki and beer?" You offer. It’s past your bedtime but a sulky DG for the rest of the week will also ruin your week too.

DG briefly looks at you before going back to staring at the window. It’s not a no.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night.

At your favourite late night hole-in-the-wall, you eat far more tteokbokki than DG. On second thoughts, you don’t remember him eating any at all. You’re talking and downing beers to fill the silence, trying to perk up this silly celebrity. Loose lipped and spilling far more details than you would if you were sober, with him seated opposite and sipping on a soda.

As the night ticks along, he thaws and a small smile settles on his face watching you gesticulate and ramble about your life.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night-

With DG driving, piggybacking you up to your apartment, and tucking you into bed.

DG can’t stop thinking of the weight of you on his back, arms slung over his shoulders, legs at his waist and his hands gripping your thighs.

You slurring drunkenly into his ear as he climbs the stairs in your building. It’s mostly nonsense. He can’t make out your words but remembers your breath tickling his skin.

And when he wraps your duvet around you, the brief moment of lucidity in your eyes as you look at him, softer than you ever have, you tell him, “Thanks Diego.”

Diego.

Nothing changes between the two of you after this. Not really.

You still find him an enormous thorn in your side. Incredibly stuck up and haughty and you continue to want to throttle him on a weekly basis but you are immensely grateful for him not leaving you a passed out heap on the sidewalk.

You’re in the middle of chastising him once again, dragging him out of bed as he is running late and being an absolute dick about it. Taking it easy as if he has all the time in the world.

Well of course he does. He’s not the one that will be getting an earful from your boss or on the receiving end of the production crew’s complaints, as if trying to manhandle and cart this manchild around is easy.

“Diego Kang, I swear to fucking god-”

"James." He says, interrupting you as he picks out and pulls an eye-wateringly expensive jumper over his head.

"What?"

"Call me James when it's just us.” He checks out his outfit in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with it, before moving onto his hair. “James Lee. That's my real name."

DG, or James Lee, keeps his eyes on his reflection. Inspecting his non-existent roots, styling his fringe to make it fall just so and applying a liberal amount of hair product.

Nonchalant and casual even as he offers something desperately personal about himself.

"James," you say, trying out the sound for yourself. A name that seems at odds with his loud K-Pop shell but you imagine a time before the fame and the celebrity and the pink hair and it somehow fits.

"James," you repeat, and receive a small smile in return. Then it drops as you add, “If you don’t get your ass in the car in the next five minutes I will kill you.”

“James,” you think to yourself before you drift off to sleep that night.

How peculiar.

“James, James, James.”

Celebrities these days are multi-hyphenates.

DG is an Idol-CEO-Actor, or at least trying to add the last one onto his resume. On looks alone, he would have already gotten his foot through the door. Add on his reputation and popularity, he is drowning in offers.

What you personally dislike more with K-dramas scenes though, is how long things take. How much it revolves around other actors and their managers whereas DG being in the studio or filming a music video is pretty much all him.

This K-drama is supposed to be the next big thing.

With the biggest names attached, including DG who is making a cameo. The cameo that was also scheduled to be filmed five hours ago but you have both just been lurking in his dressing room since.

Along with some measly snacks and refreshments, which the crew has been kind enough to provide.

However, the snacks are all but gone (thanks to you) and the refreshments are dwindling and there is no end in sight.

DG, or James, as you have started to call him in your head, is on his phone. He’s always on his phone. Scrolling through news articles, responding to important emails and messages.

There’s only so much news or celebrity gossip you can take. You have exhausted your own social media feeds and you have spent far too much money on your gacha games and the guilt has set in.

You twiddle your thumbs on the sofa next to him as he takes no notice of your presence and you decide to rest your eyes.

Why not anyway? DG doesn’t need anything right now, work won’t be interrupting you, and there’s nothing for you to do. Just for a minute or five. Until someone from the production team knocks on the door and announces that it’s time for his scene.

DG side-eyes you when he notices your breath start to slow and deepen. Falling asleep on the job, really?

Then you let out a snore before smacking your lips together a couple times and he holds back a snort. He reasons that he should let you have some time to rest. After all, you’re the one that drives him around, his life is in your hands everyday and tiredness kills.

He’s on his phone for a few more minutes, reading through more emails on PTJ Entertainment and out of the corner of his eye he notices you drooping.

Body slowly slumping to slouch over him, until your head makes contact with his shoulder and you’re snoozing happily on your newfound pillow.

It’s equal parts inappropriate and cute.

Ugh, DG is 99% sure you’re drooling on him and the wardrobe department isn’t going to be happy when he returns the outfit.

Either way, that’s not going to be his problem. He adjusts minutely, makes it just a touch more comfortable for you and continues to scroll.

You wake up to a wetness by your mouth, and to your horror, DG smirking down at you.

Despite none of this being your fault, you apologise to everyone about having to reschedule DG’s music video shoot due to the previous day’s K-drama delays.

To your relief, the music video goes swimmingly and without a hitch, and the production is wrapped up on time.

You’ll happily bet that his new song will go straight to No.1. If not, then at least the sensual music video will guarantee DG remains top of mind for weeks.

You’re updating your boss and even she seems to be pleased.

"This is just work." DG interrupts as you're mid call.

You look up at him, brows furrowed.

Holding your hand to your phone to mute the speaker, you whisper, "I know."

"Good," and he walks away leaving you as confused as ever.

It's not the first time you have seen him shoot an MV, which thank the heavens is so much more efficient than bloody k-dramas, and also not the first time that there's been scenes that emulate an intimate moment. Lips nearly brushing together. Hands roaming bodies under fake rain.

Even if DG notices that you're watching the scene, eyes glazed over and bored, he still felt the urge to explain to you that there's nothing between you and the leading lady in the video.

Once out of sight of everyone, he facepalms himself for his ridiculousness.

You’re right, and you absolutely love it when you’re right.

The song goes straight to No.1 and holds that position for weeks, fending off competition from boy bands and girl groups and other solo artists. Apparently it’s going to be the song of the summer.

The music video also breaks records for being the most watched within 24 hours.

DG only reviews it once for post-production checks and finds it just fine.

There’s something he can’t quite put his finger on that seems off with it.

He wonders what it would look like if it was you starring opposite him.

“Where on earth is he?” You grit your teeth and grip harder onto the umbrella that is threatening to be swept away by the wind.

And another thing with being DG’s manager: it’s fine if he’s late but not if it’s you.

(Although to be fair, this instance of him being late is likely due to this particular music producer he’s meeting with enjoying the sound of his own voice.)

You were running late exactly one time in the past, during the first couple days of managing him, when the skies opened and drenched the earth.

Heavens forbid DG’s perfect, beautiful, flawless hair is ruined by the rain.

It’s not like he looked like a drowned rat. The paparazzi caught him in a wet t-shirt, fabric clinging to his abs and his pink hair slicked back stylishly. Even the goddamn raindrops were running fashionably down his high cheekbones and dripping off his pout.

For the next week, the tabloids and internet forums went wild with how hot he looked.

(Who knows, maybe that was the inspiration for his fragrance commercial.)

Nevertheless, DG was displeased and it made its way back to your boss how displeased he was.

Ever since, you have been the unfortunate soul waiting in all manners of weather for him. Rain storms, blistering sun, freezing snow.

Today, it’s your favourite. Rain. You shiver against the elements trying to take shelter under the building entrance canopy, the wind whipping the downpour every which way and you’re getting soaked regardless of how you angle your umbrella.

“Hurry up, DG.”

You check the time over and over. He would be early to his next appointment if he exited the building now.

…On time.

…On time if the traffic was in your favour.

…Late, but not terribly so.

…Fashionably late.

… Late enough to piss everyone off in the room.

Shit. Just as you begin to fret, wondering if something has happened to him-

Clicks and flashes from cameras alert you to his royal highness finally making an appearance, ready to exit the studio and making his way over to the car.

He materialises by your side, and you mutter a familiar phrase to him.

“You’re late.”

It’s a mantra you’re tired of repeating, but he relishes if the amused grin is any indication.

Without a word, he takes off his trench coat and drapes it around your shoulders. His right hand covers yours over the umbrella handle, left wrapping around your waist as he guides you through the throng of reporters and fans.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath.

You can imagine the optics now from the papers and your boss. It looks… Well. Not terrible but not the best.

“You’re soaked,” is all DG provides, accompanied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

He opens the driver’s door for you before he climbs into the passenger’s side.

Thank goodness for your gift of the gab.

He’s being a gentleman, you tell everyone that would listen. Isn’t this what Korea wants? An idol with manners and who looks after everyone? Is empathetic and caring?

Think how well it would resonate with the female demographic, who wants a boyfriend like this! The older boomer demographic, who thinks none of the young ‘uns have any manners anymore!

Your boss isn’t convinced until the advertising offers for umbrella companies roll in.

Truth be told, DG doesn’t know what possessed him to do that. Especially in front of cameras.

Though, it’s not like he could just let you get even more drenched could he? You’re standing there, looking pitiful and he was just going to let you hold the umbrella over him when he should be the one taking care of you-

Hold on.

DG frowns at himself.

Damn.

James Lee has never looked after anyone besides himself. You need to look after yourself if you are to survive this dog eat dog world. To make it atop the Pre-Generation, the First Generation and now the Second.

He had unfathomably high expectations of himself (that he managed to achieve) and low expectations for relationships (that hadn’t been proven wrong yet).

People have flitted in and out of the chapters of his life, no-one staying around for long. Definitely no-one staying around long enough to know him, for him to grow comfortable with.

Perhaps it has been the forced closeness that has caused him to let his guard down. Cabin fever, in a sense.

But James Lee, Diego Kang, has himself also been around long enough to know there’s more to you and he wants more of you.

Finding reasons to spend time together isn’t difficult. Actually, finding reasons to spend time apart would be much harder.

You both get on with your jobs and your duties, even as the closeness grows day by day.

And every time when you’re alone and you call him James, his heart grows fonder.

Out of all the seats available in his apartment, James lounges next to you, long legs draping over yours.

It's another night in together.

These seem to be happening with increasing frequency. DG at least used to keep up appearances, networking with his fellow celebrities.

Parties where you used to look at him with distaste as starlets surrounded him, award shows that he couldn't care less about as you hung around in the background.

Now he prefers to stay in with you, using work as a thin excuse. Studying lyrics that he has already memorised, going over dances that are long ingrained in him.

"You're not going to her party?" You ask, you were sure this fan-favourite and DG were an item or had history. At the very least, the who's who of the industry always attended her gatherings.

"No," his eyes continue roving over the lines.

Then when you thought the conversation was done, he looks over the top of his paper, eyes sparkling with playfulness, "I prefer being here with you."

Oh. Your breath catches in your throat.

You think you might never breathe normally again.

No, that’s a lie. Any opportunities for rose-tinted glasses has long passed by. You both know each other too well for that.

You breathe perfectly fine. Actually, this morning you are taking deep breaths to try and centre yourself.

It’s not working.

“You’re always fucking late,” you snap, giving in to your anger.

Sometimes you think it is your fault for not watching over DG 24/7. That instead of going back home, you should just live with him so you can shake him awake when he is supposed to get up instead of when he wants to.

And does it hurt him to look the least bit contrite at making your life a misery?

Why does he have to look so smug with a lollipop stick hanging out his mouth? Seriously, between all the rushing around this morning, when did he find time to look for goddamn candy?

“For fuck’s sake, James.” You’re speed walking towards his front door, looking at the Maps app on your phone and miss his smile at you snarling his name.

You’re already running behind and every route to the recording studio is red due to roadworks or an accident or just plain ol’ congestion. “Shit!”

Your finger jabs at the elevator button multiple times.

“It’s not going to get there any quicker if you do that,” DG speaks lowly into your ear and you get the urge to pinch him.

Instead of prodding some more at the button, you turn around and prod him in the chest.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days,” You growl. “It’s fine for you, Diego goddamn Kang, the star who is pretty much untouchable. I’m not. I’m replaceable. There’s a million people who would take my job-”

DG snatches your hand, holds it still. “You’re not replaceable.” Then adds with an infuriating grin, “So what if we’re late.”

The minivan is skipped, and his answer to your problem is his other pride and joy. A motorbike that looks far too aggressive and a complete death trap.

“I’m not getting on that,” you say as DG hands you leathers that materialised from god-knows-where and a spare helmet.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging and throwing a leg over. “I don’t think your boss will be happy.”

“Fuck!”

If this was any other situation, you would be acutely aware of yourself pressed up against DG’s back. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Except all you can focus on is that you’re going to fucking die. You think you might be screaming.

“Stop screaming!” His disembodied voice calls out. Oh. Turns out you are.

For some reason, DG had thought the helmets with built in speakers and mic would be better for communication. Fun, even. Frankly, you’re just giving him a headache.

(Not to mention the fact that he bought a spare helmet at all. And leathers that he thought would be exactly your size.

He had never rode with anyone before and you certainly had never expressed any interest. Yet he passed by a motorcycle store when he had rare time to spare, and visited on a whim.

If he dwelled on this anymore, DG is sure his headache would turn into a full blown migraine.)

Later that night, when the ringing in his ears finally subside, he will still think about the way you held him.

When public opinion is on your side, then that’s fantastic. Amazing. You tend to get away with all sorts of things.

When it’s not, the truth can become muddied and there’s mental gymnastics from all sides painting you as the villain.

Fortunately, public opinion generally works in DG’s favour, especially in the case of his stalker who got sentenced for more jail time than if she was harassing a normal person, but not long enough to account for all the distress she has caused.

Such is the criminal justice system.

Her date of release looms large and near. DG, despite his talent and fighting prowess, realises certain traumas can’t be erased.

He grows on edge. Skittish. Snaps at any and everything. It’s noted by journalists. Other managers gives you questioning looks

You don’t miss his change in demeanour. To you, the reason behind it is obvious.

You’ve heard about this case, everyone has. It dominated headlines for almost a month: the crazy sasaeng fan who believed herself to be DG’s girlfriend before moving onto another poor soul and was finally arrested.

As he spirals, nothing you do or say to him manages to get more than a nod or a frown. You try to offer that she had fixated on someone else before she was arrested, hoping that was a small consolation to him. And though he managed a weak smile, the black cloud still hangs over him.

In the end, you pack your bags and arrive at DG’s one evening. Instead of letting yourself in like you usually would, you ring the buzzer, smile into the door camera and tell him “It’s me!”

The door swings open to reveal DG looking perplexed (and worse for wear). Head tilting, curious and inquisitive when he sees your suitcase and carrier bags full of snacks.

“I’m staying for a while.”

“According to who?”

You barge past him anyway with a grin.

The date of his stalker’s release arrives and passes without drama.

You miss your home comforts but it makes you happy to see DG’s mood genuinely improve as the days go on.

The luxurious oversized mattress, fancy spa shower, and jacuzzi bathtub also helps to make your stay a bit more bearable.

Not to mention each morning DG actually cooks breakfast for you. Turns out he’s not bad at all at playing a househusband, and it’s also maddening how he manages to get up each day before you when he hasn’t got any place to be.

“Thanks James,” you say, when he presents you with a home cooked meal and his smile grows a bit more each day.

Peace doesn’t last.

Blurry photos of you both leaving and entering DG’s apartment at all hours of the day and night make the front page of certain news sites.

Headlines scream with leading questions.

“Relationship beyond Manager and Idol?”

“How a Manager seduced their Idol.”

“Who is this mystery person that has tamed DG?”

Why anyone deemed it newsworthy is beyond you. You’ve been to his apartment a million times.

Yes, you suppose the closeness of DG and yourself in the photos can look a little suspect.

In this particular one, it looks like you have your hand caressing his chest when in actual fact you were shoving him away for a dismissive comment he made.

And the other photo, of his hand on your wrist, was actually him dragging you away when he spotted a herd of fans in the distance.

More pictures unveil themselves.

A snapshot of you driving and DG feeding you candy.

You and DG, whispering intimately in your ear as his supercar is being towed away in the background.

You red faced and drunk as DG piggybacks you outside your building.

His jacket wrapped around you, hand on your waist and angling the umbrella over you.

Him smiling down at you (ok, you admit that you didn’t realise how soft that looks to other people.)

Finally an exceptionally pixelated image of you both on his bike, that could be anyone really.

Unfortunately, your opinion is in the minority as the articles are inundated with comments and furious, tearful fans shrieking that their idol is betraying them.

Simply unhinged.

The speculation grows. You’re damned if you do deny anything, damned if you don’t. Your talent agency puts out an official statement.

To your ire, the statement is ‘no comment’ rather than anything more definitive. You glare at James when you find out, suspecting he has something to do with this.

He gives you a shrug, and a familiar look of mischief.

To his credit, he doesn’t leave you completely to fend for yourself. You stay off social media for your sanity, and when the paparazzi hounds you, he's the one with his arm around you, cutting a path through the crowd and shielding you.

It adds fuel to the fire. Does nothing to help your case.

Still, you can’t help feeling safe and secure with his hand guiding you - holding onto your waist, round your shoulder, or simply -

Your hand in his.

Outside of the conference room, where DG is wrapping up a press release for his newest album and nothing else, a reporter slinks out and approaches you.

You’re used to being on the other side of the conversation. Part of the staff, herding DG through camera flashes and questions being thrown at him though there was always some sort of camaraderie. Both parties just trying to do their job with deadlines and targets to hit.

This time you just feel a weariness as you see this person making a beeline towards you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They say, holding out their hand for a shake which you take with reluctance.

“Hi.”

A voice recorder is thrusted into your face, and you automatically take a step back. “Hope you don’t mind, but I just have a couple questions for you.”

“Um...”

“There’s been lots of sightings of you and DG together-”

You open your mouth to argue-

“Can you confirm your relationship with him?”

A vacant smile settles onto your face. It’s a practised expression where you follow all the cues to be polite and professional even as internally you wish to be anywhere but here. “I’m his manager.”

“Are you two together? Romantically?”

“I’m his manager.” You repeat through gritted teeth, and you’re surprised to hear your voice calm and collected.

“Is that a no? Or-”

“What even is this question?” You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks heat, and refusing to partake in this circus a moment longer. “This is over.”

You manage to at least catch them looking apologetic, before you stride off into a corner to take a deep breath.

DG, much more adept and experienced at fending off questions, had finished the conference early and caught the entire exchange, watching you both with a bemused look.

Walking towards you with quiet, measured footsteps, his hand settles onto your lower back as he murmurs your name.

He bites back a laugh at your small, startled jolt.

DG tilts his head to signal ‘this way’. You give him a look but follow him regardless. Trailing behind, moving far away from other prying eyes.

Up a flight of stairs, through multiple fire doors, turning left then right then another right then maybe a left. It doesn’t matter. You’re hopefully lost and decide to just put your faith in this wretched idol.

He finally seems to find what he’s looking for as he reaches an empty corridor; stopping mid-step and you collide into his back.

“Ack!” You exclaim, hitting the solid wall of muscle.

He lets out a huff of laughter and whirls around to face you, noting how cute your look of surprise is.

How strange though, that this is his current position. But is it really unexpected that the person that has been by his side for months has finally worked their way into his heart and has somehow learned to read him when no-one else could?

If he really thinks about it, yes actually, it is unexpected. No-one else has managed to grow close to him before. As James Lee, as Diego Kang. Birds of a feather or opposites attract or everything in between, no-one has got him like you do.

There’s still so much more to tell and show you but… First things first.

Fidgeting, you shift your weight from one foot to another, growing self-conscious waiting for DG to talk, only to find him staring intently at your face. Impatient, you give in and speak first.

“What is it?”

“...”

“Diego-”

“James.” He cuts in abruptly, “It’s just us right now. Please.”

You blink in shock at the please and correct yourself at his insistence, lowering your voice so it doesn’t echo down the empty hallway. “James, are you ok?”

“Better than ever,” he says, a smirk now pulling at his lips.

You register his change in mood and narrow your eyes, wondering where this is going. “Why are we here?”

“When the reporter asked if we were together, you said you’re my manager.”

“I am your manager.”

“But you are interested in me.”

It’s not a question. DG, no James, says it like a fact and there’s no doubt in your mind or his. You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Open it once more-

What.

You feel some cogs in your brain misfiring and all you can manage is a feeble, “Huh?”

“You told them you’re my manager, but didn’t say no to being with me.”

“...”

“So. What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“Us.”

“You like me. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

You take a step back. “...”

Another step. “...”

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

And your back hits the wall with an oomph.

DG slaps his hand on the wall beside your head, bends at the waist and leans his weight forward until he’s eye level with you. “Tell me and I promise I’ll stop.”

“...”

You’re cornered and he searches your face for a response.“Y/N?”

“...”

Fuck. Fuck!

How on earth are you supposed to respond when he looks at you like this. When his face is millimetres from yours and his breath is on your skin and his dark eyes pierces into your soul, pupils blown deliciously wide.

With his stupid pink hair and his fringe flopping, framing his face and his high cheekbones.

The stupid canines of his poking out that gives him so much character and is so hot it hurts when he flashes it accompanied with an arched brow and an arrogant smile.

His stupid pout and his stupid lips, that you know is constantly moisturised with a fancy overpriced lip balm to make it look kissable for the cameras.

And Jesus Christ, you hate to admit it but they do. They 100% do because somewhere in the back of your brain you always knew they look kissable but it has been often clouded by just simply how annoying and bratty you found him.

Except right now you don’t find him annoying or bratty at all.

Even as he’s confessing his feelings with complete confidence, no unease, no anxiety or doubts, because he always had a way of worming under your skin and he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Damn it all.

“Kiss me,” you tell James, and he isn’t surprised at all by your reaction, face lighting up at your confirmation.

He shifts.

Hand coming up to cup your cheek. He rubs his thumb twice over your skin, savouring you any way he can before tilting your face towards his. His lips at first brushes against your forehead. Leaves a trail down your nose, peppers both cheeks and then your chin.

He draws back once, takes in your sweet face and gives you a smile so soft it makes your heart hurt.

Then finally, after wanting this for so long, presses his lips against yours.

Diego Kang, James Lee, tastes like candy and sugar.

#might be very ooc but honestly i feel a little insane. your honour i dont even like him #lookism #lookism x reader #diego kang x reader #james lee x reader #dg x reader #kang dagyum #lookism dg #james lee #diego kang #lookism fic #wannaeatramyeon

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luvfy0dor · 4 months ago

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“His Hands are in my Hair, His Clothes are in my Room ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Nikolais and Chuuyas are hardly proofread, Nikolais was rushed, Nikolais nearly got scrapped, I don't like Nikolais, maybe a little ooc

Description; sharing clothing w the BSD boys

A/n; GUYS OH MY GOD I GOT A 5 ON MY FIRST AP EXAM IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF AHHHHHH IM GONNA CRY also I'm sorry posts are so few and far between. It's so hot and hard to function. I know I said the exact same thing to excuse minimal posts in winter but like. its literally hot as balls and all I got is a puny ass 8yro fan and the occasional sip of iced water.

Osamu Dazai ★

• Dazai likes to take your old T-shirts to sleep in when you lend them to him for the night. After a few nights of having Dazai at your house, you wonder why your sleep-shirt collection has nearly cut in half.

ೃ⁀➷

You unlocked the door of your apartment and pushed it open with your unoccupied hand. The other arm held a large brown paper bag filled with gas station food and snacks for you and your boyfriend, who followed you inside. Once you set the bag down on the coffee table, you retrieved your keys from the door and closed it. When you came back to the kitchen, Dazai had already dumped everything out and was sifting through all the options. "The walk back from the gas station was hardly five minutes and I've already forgotten everything we got." He says with a grin, opening a bag of chips and eating a couple. He offered you some, holding the bag out to you. "Want some?' He mumbled.

"Yeah, let me just change into pajamas first, I don't wanna do anything until I'm comfortable." You said, shrugging off your jacket and starting to undo your belt before you even make it back to your room. Dazai followed suit, bag of chips still in hand. "Can I borrow some?" You nodded before taking off your shirt and tossing it in the laundry hamper, going through your closet to find a shirt for your boyfriend and yourself. "Thank youuu~" He plops down onto your bed, keeping the chip bag upwards so he doesn't get any crumbs or dust on your nice blankets. He watches you pull one of your band shirts over your head, admiring your body from his position on your mattress. He's snapped out of his daze when black fabric comes flying at him, but he catches it before it can smack him in the face. "Thanks, babe, you're so kind."

He switches his work clothes for your old ones, the big shirt nearly swallowing his scrawny torso comfortably. "Alright, I want snacks, come on." You gesture for him to follow you back out to the kitchen where the array of snacks was waiting for the two of you on the counter. There were numerous kinds of chocolate, and Dazai had grabbed a couple bags of gummies for himself. There were a few more bags of chips for variety, and you scooped everything up in your arms to bring to the living room. You dropped them all on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Alright, what movie are we feeling?" You ask, turning to the brunette man. "Uhhhhh, how about an action movie. Somethin' that looks exciting." He says, slinging his arm over your shoulder while he munches on sour gummy worms. Eventually, the two of you decide on a Godzilla movie, slumped against the couch with chocolate residue on the tips of your fingers from your candies. Dazai let out a long sigh as the movie came to a close, leaning into you and resting his head on your shoulder.

You ran your fingers through Dazais messy and slightly greasy hair, scratching his scalp and listening to his pleased, quiet hum. "Are you falling asleep or are you up for another movie?" You ask him, watching the credits roll on the TV. "I'm up for another movie, I just think I might be having a sugar crash." He says, groaning as he sits back up. You nod and grab the remote again, browsing through all the film options. Every now and again, your eyes involuntarily flickered over to your boyfriend, and you couldnt help but smile. He looked really cute in your shirt, and it almost made you wanna treat the movie like chopped liver and cuddle up to him.

"You look really cute." You say, playing whatever movie you absent-mindedly started in your daze. "Oh, I know, right?" He grins running his hand over his body. "As a matter of fact, I've never felt sexier." He teases, moving his eyebrows up and down with a smirk. You can't help but laugh at him. "Let's get you on a playboy cover." Before you know it, he's standing up in front of the TV. "Scrap the movie, you have me for entertainment instead." He puts his hands on his hips and strikes a pose, making you laugh some more. "You want some attention? I mean, I guess since you asked so politely." You stand up with an eye roll and pull him in, kissing him and running a hand down his side. He keeps one hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his lips, sighing quietly each time your lips part for a quick moment. Soon, you both need more air then small gasps and have to pull away. He smiles and messes with the fabric of your own shirt. "How about we ditch this mess for now and go to bed, yeah? We can continue comfortably there?" He offers, You glance back over at the piles of snacks, opened or not, scattered acrossed the floor. Normally you'd make him help you clean up before doing anything else, but tonight you really couldn't be bothered and just wanted to follow Dazai wherever he'd take you. "Alright, let's go."

Chuuya Nakahara ★

• Everyone knows that Chuuya adores his hat, but not everyone knows he's got a decently sized collection of fancy hats on top of his closet. One day while rummaging around and trying to find one of Chuuyas button downs for him, you notice them all on the top rack.

ೃ⁀➷

"Chuuya, you didn't tell me you had so many hats!" You called out to him, standing back and staring at them all. Chuuya was currently in the bathroom, shaving his peach fuzz to keep his smooth face. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I've got a ton." He calls back, washing the shaving cream off of his skin. "They're pretty..can I try some of 'em on?" You ask, reaching to grab the one on the top of the stack. "Go ahead." He walks out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, leaning against the doorframe to watch the little fashion show you were about to put on. The first one you grabbed was adorned with flowers of various colors. You placed it on your head and turned around, posing with your hands on your hips.

"What do you think? Vogue worthy?" You ask him. He smiles at you and nods, his arms crossed over his chest. "One hundred percent, that's peak fashion." He says genuinely, standing up straight and walking over to the closet. He reaches up and grabs another hat for you to try, switching it out for the flowers one. This one is a dark, reddish brown color. "This one's cute too." You giggle and head over to the bathroom to see for yourself. "Ooo, I'm not sure this kinda hat is necessarily for me." You giggle. "What do you mean? It looks great on you!" He says, following you in and hugging you from behind. "You only say that because they're your hats." You say, grinning.

"I mean, I guess not everyone is destined to look good in them like me." He says, squeezing your hip. "I gotta actually get ready for work now, I'm probably runnin' late." He says, turning around and dropping his towel. He tossed it into the hamper before getting dressed in his usual attire, spotting the button down that you had forgotten about in favor of his hat collection. "Okayyyy." You yawn, stretching your arms over your head and treading through the bedroom to start your own morning routine. You didn't have to leave for another hour, but Chuuya had to get to work within the next 30 minutes. After brushing your teeth, you notice Chuuya searching the bedroom for his usual hat.

"The nightstand." You point out to him. He sees it and lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing it and plopping it on his head. "Thanks, doll. I gotta get going' now, but I'll see ya tonight, okay?" He says, pulling you in by your waist for his daily goodbye kiss. "Yeah, got it." You smile before kissing him sweetly for a quick moment before he backs away. "Alright, I love you, see ya later." He playfully smacks your ass before letting go of you and heading out to the door. "Bye Chuuya, I love you, I'll see you later!" Once you heard him leave, you smiled to yourself and headed right back to the closet. You didn't necessarily have to get dressed just yet, so that gave you some time to try on a couple more hats on your own.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor doesn't mind letting you borrow his cape if you seem cold, or he'll simply wrap it around you and pull you into his side. He prefers the latter, considering it doesn't take much for him to get chilly.

ೃ⁀➷

Fyodor held your gloved hand in his as you both walked down the snowy streets of Yokohama. It was the winter solstice and you both decided to take a walk down one of the most popular roads and do some window shopping. By the end of the evening, the hand that wasn't occupied with holding Fyodors held a warm cup of hot chocolate that you sipped on periodically. "Have you enjoyed yourself tonight, Myshka?" He asks you, adjusting his ushanka and gazing up at the sky, noticing some snow start to fall. "I did. Thanks for coming with me, I know you have a lot of stuff to do." You respond, bringing the cup to your lips for another sip. He waves his hand dismissively. "That doesn't mean I can't accompany you." His thumb rubs over your knuckles as snow starts landing on his hat and your head, the street lamps illuminating the darkness with a tangerine-colored glow. You nod at his words, leaning into his shoulder and shivering.

"It's so cold, Fedya." You say, your head on his shoulder and your hand squeezing his tightly. He lets go in order to put his arm around your waist, pulling his long cape over your shoulder. "I know, the walk home isn't much further, don't worry." You smile and hold onto the old, worn material to keep it in place. "You're right, thanks." You say, feeling butterflies in your stomach. It never mattered how long you and Fyodor had been together, every affectionate action made you feel like you had just got together. He held you close with his cape still shielding you from the cold and adding a layer of warmth to your jacket. He would peer over at you every now and again, laughing under his breath at all the snow that was getting into your hair. "What's so funny?" You ask him, a smile spread acrossed your face. "You've got a whole bunch of snow on your head." He tells you. "It looks like dandruff."

You roll your eyes and yank the ushanka off of his head, placing it on yours instead. "There, now you won't have to look at it." You hold the fluffy hat on top of your head and try to prevent him from taking it back when he tugs on it. "No, you can get your own, my ears are cold." He says with a smile, eventually pulling it back into his own possession and patting it off. "I will say though, you look better in my hat than Dazai did." You give a proud smirk and rest your head on his shoulder. "I'd hope you'd think so." Your street comes into view and you pull him along as you speed up, wanting to get into the warm, cozy house as soon as possible. "I know running isn't exactly your thing but pick up the pace a little, I wanna get under the covers and cuddle." You tell him, getting closer to home with each passing second.

He picks up speed for you and listens to the sound of your feet hitting the pavement. It's not long before you've pulled him all the way home and you're unlocking the door, nearly spilling inside to get into the warm living room. Fyodor follows suit, unlacing his shoes and hanging up his cape and ushanka. You wait for him in the open doorway that connects the living room and the hallway, ready to curl up in bed away from the harsh cold. "Alright, I'm coming." He says, treading through the hall with you and opening the bedroom door. His hand rested on your lower back as you both walked to the comfortable mattress, crawling under the covers and pulling each other close. "Your cape is really warm and comfortable. You should wrap me in it more often." You say, scooching closer to him and letting his arm drape over your waist.

"Hmm, I guess that wouldn't hurt. You really like it?" He peers down at you, his head propped up on his fist. "Yeah, I might have to steal it, actually." You say seriously, making him click his tongue. "You're welcome to steal it if I'm not wearing it." He says, chewing on the inside of his cheek habitually. "Then expect it to be off the hanger more often then not." He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, laying his head down on the pillow. "Okay, that's fine, but right now you have me and the blanket to keep you warm." He murmurs, closing his eyes. "Well you're not contributing to that as much as the blanket, but whatever you say." You kiss his cheek and brush his bangs out of his face. "G'night Fedya, I love you." You say, resting your head on his chest, ready for sleep. "I love you too, y/n, sleep well."

Nikolai Gogol ★

• You always loved Nikolais outfit and couldn't help but wanna put it in one day. You were sure he wouldn't mind, after all, sharing attire was nothing foreign to your relationship.

ೃ⁀➷

It started with you trying on his blouse for fun, but then you decided the blouse wasn't complete without the vest, pants, gloves, collar, shoes, or hat. Everything fit you a little differently than it fit Nikolai, but it didn't matter, because when you walked over to the nearest reflective surface, you found yourself cute, and you almost couldn't wait for Nikolai to get out of the shower to show him. You just needed one more thing, his cape. You ran out to the coat rack by the door and swung it behind you and then over your shoulders excitedly, grabbing it by the edges and moving it around. You felt really fancy with his cape, swaying your body just to feel the fabric move with you. As a matter of fact, you were so caught up in how good the cape made you feel that you didn't even realize the bathroom door open.

"Oh, wow, dove! My outfit looks so good on you! I've never noticed how much the red gloves pop until now." You turned around so fast, as if you were sitting in silence and all of a sudden a full file cabinet tipped over and crashed onto a linoleum floor. "Wah-! When'd you get out? I mean, thank you, but you scared me!" You say with a nervous laugh. "I thought it looked cute." You murmur, starting to pull off the gloves, but he stops you. "Hey, wait, you should stay in it for a moment, I'm not done admiring you yet!" He tells you, walking over and grabbing your hands gently. He leans in to kiss you, his smile palpable on his lips. You hand falls on his shoulder, rubbing it up and down affectionately before pulling away. "You really like it that much, huh?"

He nods. "Ofcourse! Oh, I'd love to show everyone how wonderful you look. Would you let me?" He asks, squeezing your hands tightly. "Sure, Kolya, go ahead." He quickly skitters off to fetch his cellphone, returning with the camera app already open. "Pose." He says, watching you place your hands on your waist and cock your hip a little bit. "Ah, gorgeous." He says, spamming the capture button. "Okay, I think that's enough." He says, his cheeks a bit pinker than before. He tossed his phone onto one of the side tables and embraced you once again, resting his head on top of yours. "Come on, y/n, I'd like to see you in my whole wardrobe now!" He says excitedly, pulling you along back to the bedroom. You don't necessarily know what you ignited in him, but it was certainly something, and now you were preparing yourself for a god-knows-how-long fashion show for your boyfriend. Not that you really minded, ofcourse.

A/n; another post that was supposed to have sigma and then didn't have sigma because I wanted to watch Jersey shore instead of write. ALSO I WENT TO THE DENTIST YESTERDAY terrible experience I cried but don't tell anyone I said that

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sanspuppet · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 (hyung line)

W/T: explicit content (18+)

- short scenario for each member

- not proofread so sorry any mistakes

A/O: here's some hard thoughts of my fav men, maknae line will be uploaded soon! sorry if the hwa one isn't as long as the others, dragged away a little too much by the yeosang one 🤭

read here the maknae line

✩ 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

He's never tried to make you uncomfortable by mentioning sexual stuff, he wanted you to do the first move so he'd be sure you want it. Can't deny that it was pretty difficult to hold your horses when your boyfriend is a fucking hot guy, his smirk always has a specific effect on you, you also touched yourself a couple times thinking of him, when he was at work. You were quite shy to propose it, but this morning, seeing his boner standing under the blanket got you over the edge, you surely want him and you gotta take what you crave for. You sit on his lap with him still asleep, how can he be so damn gorgeous without even trying? he's fucking sleeping and he still seems a work of art. You start to dry hump yourself against his crotch, your lower lip between your teeth trying to hold back your whimpers. He slightly opens his eyes at the sudden friction, he stretched his arms yawning lazily: "Y/n..." once he realizes what you were actually doing his eyes open wide, his heartbeat accelerating at the sight of you grinding over his hips. "Joong... wanna take you right now, pretty please" you lean over him to leave a small kiss on his lips, your hands caressing his neck. You smile when he giggles, his hands dragging down your body, while kissing you back. "Happy to have you getting rid of my erection, love"

✩ 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Your relationship with Seonghwa was intimate, private times with him never missed, and he also had seen you barely naked a few times, but still you had nothing more than cuddles sessions. You arrive at home at late night, after a date with your boyfriend. You're about to head towards the bathroom to took your makeup off and brush your teeth, when he comes from behind holding your hips still. He approaches your ear, his sweet low voice whispering: "We're not done yet, sweetie" you turn yourself and face him with a smirk: "Oh, what did we miss?" he gets closer to you, noses a couple of inches far. "gotta ruin your lipstick first" you take his hand and drag it down your body, going slower when on your chest and stopping when they are between you thighs, his hand is shaking, you can feel his heartbeat accelerating while squeezing his wrist: "What about ruining something else?" he murmurs a small "fuck" before kissing you on your collarbone, biting your skin slightly. "Can’t wait to be inside you, baby"

✩ 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

He could seem a tall cute baby boy, but in reality he perfectly knows he's a fucking horny man. who goes crazy everytime you wear short skirts and accidentally reveal him the under cheeks of your ass, he immediately develops the need of pin you at the wall and finally feel how good your pussy can take him, despite you looked too innocent to be able to do it. (You looked). You walk towards the living room, wearing only your underwear and one of his sweaters. you lay on the couch on your stomach and start watching tv, after some minutes, you hear your boyfriend walking in and suddenly stop. You shake your head, chuckling: "Stop staring at my ass, man" You hear him gasping from behind, he clears his throat coughing: "uhm... i wasn't..." you turn yourself, laying on your back, staring at him while a smirk took its was into your face: "why don't you just take your girlfriend and mark her?" he doesn't say anything, his body's blocked. "i noticed how you keep staring at me with those pretty eyes" you keep saying. he quickly reaches you, his body on top of yours, his hands wrapping around your waist: "i want you so fucking bad baby" you shake your index finger to him: "you should ask for it first" you tease him. "please let me fuck your pretty ass"

✩ 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

Yeosang has never showed you that side of him, which it quite surprised you, being a grown man just like others. You even thought that he wasn't physically attracted by you, what a silly, he is just a shy guy and he isn't certainly as innocent as you thought. You're walking through the hallway of your apartment, but suddenly stop when you hear weird noises coming through the bathroom. You bring your ear closer to the door, what you can hear now is something that seem apparently a squelching sound. Your breath stops as you figure out what is happening in there, you're about to ask at Yeosang if he's okay, but you can clearly hear is voice now booming inside the room: "Fuck- o-oh God, mmpphh fuck! wanna feel that tight pussy..." you wide your eyes, your mouth hangs open from hearing how hot his moans sound. "Ah... y/n.. f-fuck oh fuck! So close! Working this dick so well... shit!" you can tell that he's speeding up his pace by hearing clearly every single nasty sound he makes while stroking his cock. You can't contain yourself anymore: you shut the door open, finding your boyfriend sitting on the toilet while jerking off. He gasps, his heavy breath making his chest widen intensely, he looks at you with a mist of shame, fear and neediness to finish what he started. "What the fuck Yeo? I'm right here, why didn't you fuck me instead??" without even waiting for him to say anything you undress yourself and sit on his lap, taking his length at once inside you. He moans loudly your name, barely looking at you because already too fucked out. "Gonna let you know how good my pussy feel"

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ja3yun · 7 months ago

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.9 (fin.)

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst(ish), fluff, smut (mdni), masturbation (m.), confrontation, not many warning this chapter since it's the finale, anything i missed lmk! ch. 9 synopsis: nationals are underway and everything hangs in the balance for you as you watch sunghoon and minhee compete. just before the competition, sunghoon gets an unexpected visitor and makes some life decisions. wc: 15.1k previous | masterlist a/n: hi! i can't believe this is the end. i genuinely will never be able to thank each one of you for the love you have given this series. honestly, i didn't expect this series to do that well considering it's a hefty amount, but all of you have been so lovely and supportive! i hope this ending does melting point justice and ties everything up for you all. i will miss mp fridays and ynhoon more than anything but it just means i can work on something new <3 ilysm and thank you again!

Sunghoon’s alarm blares from the hotel’s bedside table, startling him from his peaceful sleep. He tries to twist and turn off the annoying noise but your grip on him stops his movements, your head burying itself into his chest as you stir, your legs tightening around his as a sleep-induced protest to have him stay beside you.

Smiling down at you, he gently pushes you from his body, careful not to fully wake you while he turns off the alarm from his phone. Luckily, you’re so exhausted from the night before’s activities that you simply roll to your side and sink further into the fluffy pillow.

The time on Sunghoon’s phone reads 6am, a horribly early start for such a long day. He digs the soles of his palms into his eyes trying to rid any sleepiness from them in an attempt to wake up. Knowing he has to get prepared for today, he begrudgingly flicks the covers off of his body and sits up at the edge of the bed.

He turns to face you, happily pouting at your sleeping figure. Right now, Sunghoon is the most content he has ever been before a competition and it was all thanks to you. Last night, relaxing with you and Minhee watching TV, fucking you into the morning, and cradling you in his arms as you softly snored on his chest, it was all so perfect. Finally, he felt like his life had some form of normality to it; he felt the same way last night as he used to when his dad took him for food at that cafe you’ve grown to love so much. He’s finally found happiness like he only dreamed of.

Placing the covers back over you as he stands up, Sunghoon quickly makes his way to the bathroom, careful not to trip over the mess on the floor; there is something about hotel rooms that just makes him a slob, the entire place covered in his stuff which could easily be put away.

The bathroom light flickers as he presses the switch, the white light a little too bright for his liking but he has to make do. Inspecting his face in the mirror, he sees a light in his eyes that flashes back to him, a testament to his happiness. If this was a typical competition morning, he would be stressed, the weight of perfection placed on his shoulders by his mother the only thing he truly felt. The constant need to impress and be the best at what he does drained him more than he realised, until you came along he would grit and bear it, trying to keep everyone happy.

But you, you made him realise that you will always be proud of him as long as he does his best and is happy with himself; a desperate structure he needed in his life.

Grinning from ear to ear, he turns on the shower and waits for the water to heat up, using his hand as an indicator. He strips off his boxers and steps in carefully - the last time he brazenly walked into a hotel shower he nearly fell ass first, legs flailing to keep him up right and that is the last thing he needs to happen.

The water is perfect as it cascades over his body, each droplet trickles down his form like a mini blanket, hugging him with warmth. He doesn’t mind winter much, being born in December and all, but he does dislike the coldness. Irony isn’t lost on him, he understands that his whole life has been around a freezing cold ice rink, yet recently, he has been finding it more and more difficult to withstand the cold air.

Probably because he was so accustomed to your warmth now.

For some reason today, more than most days, he can’t shake his mind off you; probably because there is so much at stake today and you’re the only thing that calms down his anxious mind.

After Minhee explained about your mother and her gambling, he knew from then that he had to shield you from it all. He wants to respect your wishes and perform to his best ability, but the nagging part of his heart that lives to protect you is telling him to disobey your request, to just lose the competition on purpose anyway.

Minhee is good, spectacular even, Sunghoon can’t and won’t deny that, but is he really first-place ready? This all must be gnawing at your brother, swaying his head and making him lose focus, Sunghoon knows it would do that to him. And who is to say another figure skater won’t be better than both of them? Was the bet just for Minhee to win over Sunghoon in points or the whole competition? He wishes he got some clarity on that as he ponders all the possible outcomes of today.

All he has to do is lose to Minhee, that’s the safest option.

Squirting some of the hotel soap onto his hands, he glides them all over his torso and chest, rubbing in the suds to wash him clean. Selfishly, he wants to wake you up and have you wash him as you have done so many times before; your nimble hands trailing over his v-line and his toned stomach, always resulting in your back against the tiles while he fucks into you, serving to create a vicious cycle of cleaning one another of your sex only to dirty yourselves up again. The recollection of your soaped-up tits only adds to his yearning for you, but you are so exhausted from yesterday that he needs to leave you be, settling for his memories and hand.

His hand falls to his semi-hard cock as he turns his body to face the showerhead, stroking his shaft a few times, using the pressure from the water to add another layer of pleasure.

Tipping his head back, he opens his mouth as he squeezes his length at the base before pumping a little more determinedly. He knows he doesn’t have lots of time but he can’t help himself, every thought of you bouncing on his cock and the primal moans that escape your mouth every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.

Biting his lip, he jerks himself off faster, trying to keep quiet but the feeling is too good, he can’t help but speak to himself as he imagines you in here with him, “Shit, Y/N, so fucking good,” he whispers, the base in his voice being lost behind the hum of the shower.

He angles his cock perfectly so some of the water stream hits directly onto his slit, giving him the same sensation as when the tip of your tongue swirls around his head, dipping into him as you stare into his eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Sunghoon breathes out, placing his spare hand on the wall to steady himself as he thrusts harder into his hand, searching for a quick release.

Since you came into his life he has started to question how he ever got off without at least the thought of you. The way you touch him, the way you make him feel, it’s like nothing he has ever known before. He hasn’tt tell you that when you rode him in his car for the first time that he genuinely wondered if he had even had sex before you, the way your walls gripped at his cock suddenly made him forget every person he had ever been with.

All he remembers is you.

When he nearly lost you because of your mum, he didn’t know what to do. Of course, he was mad about the skate and that you lied, but without you there with him, even for a few days, it was enough for him to lose any sense of being; it was as if all his limbs had been torn away from his body. Since the day you came home to him, he vowed never to let you go, and he won’t.

Quickening the pace, Sunghoon is close to the edge, ready to spill his seed down the shower drain. His wet chest heaves up and down as his balls shiver with the ache of release, “Y/N, just like that, baby. So fucking good,” he moans, hoping his voice doesn’t carry into the hotel bedroom.

His wrist works harder as he inhales through gritted teeth, his brain running through every orgasm you’ve ever had so that he can feel like he’s cumming with you.

“Shit, shit,” he groans, the first spurts of his cum shooting against the wall, some already being rinsed down the drain. He chants your name a few times, muttering how much he loves you under his breath as he slowly comes down from his climax.

If only it was you he was cumming inside, painting your walls white.

Shaking his head, he rids himself of any more dirty thoughts of you, scared he might have to spend another 10 minutes under the water. Turning the faucet, he changes the water to a cooler temperature while he tries to calm the thumping in his chest and the throbbing in his cock.

Once he is done with the competition, he’s going to take you over and over on the bed, cumming as many times as possible, whether inside you, on you, or wherever his desire leads.

Sunghoon turns the shower off, cleans the remnants of his mess, and steps out, wrapping a towel around his slim waist, the imprint of his now softening cock still pressed against it. You would drool if you saw him like this, you always had a thing for your boyfriend when he came straight out of a shower. There is something about the way his body glistens and how his hair sticks to his face that just turns you on. Perhaps it’s because it’s akin to how he looks after hours of fucking you silly.

After completing his skincare routine and brushing his teeth, he saunters back into the room where you are still sound asleep. He breathes a sigh of relief that he didn’t wake you despite his constant mewling of your name.

Dropping the towel next to his suitcase, he rummages for his usual training gear before slipping into it with ease, each movement he makes is calculated, being careful not to reach a high decibel and wake you. He gathers his competition essentials such as costume, skates, and makeup, slowly zipping his bag once he has double and triple-checked it.

He steals a glance at you before tip-toeing over to your side of the bed. His hand reaches to pet your hair gently, framing it around your face to rid it from your eyes. With a soft kiss on your forehead, he smiles fondly, “I love you, baby.” His words fall on sleeping ears but he says them anyway, hoping they somehow wiggle their way into the peaceful dream you’re having.

Sunghoon heads out of the hotel room, picking up his key from the door and shutting it softly behind him. Just as the door clicks, he hears the same noise from up the hallway. He turns his head to see Minhee coming from your room, hair wet and a singular star pimple patch on his chin; the same brand you buy for yourself.

Now that he’s looking at your brother, he really studies how similar you both are; same nose, same posture, and even your walk is the same.

Minhee approaches Sunghoon with a timid wave and adjusts the gym bag securely onto his shoulder, “Hey, I’m guessing she’s in there?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon nods, still whispering out of habit from this morning, “We…you were snoring so loud last night, Y/N couldn’t sleep,” he offers as an excuse as to why Minhee woke up alone this morning.

It’s a pathetic excuse but Sunghoon couldn’t in his right mind tell him that they left to go back to his room and fuck because Sunghoon was way too horny to keep it in his pants. Some boundaries just cannot be crossed, plus, does any brother want to know that only a few doors down their sister was getting pounded into oblivion? The answer to that is always no.

Minhee holds his hand up in front of Sunghoon, “Mate, shut up, we’re both 20 and I’m not an idiot,” his face turns to disgust despite trying to come across as mature. A shiver runs down his spine at the conversation, not wanting to progress it any further.

Fortunately for him, neither does Sunghoon, “Are you ready for today?” he asks as they walk together to the lift.

Taking a deep breath in contemplation, Minhee finally nods, “Yeah, I think so,” he pauses, pushing the elevator button. He is nervous, this grand plan of his only working if he does his absolute best with no mistakes; all he has to do is perform with the same tenacity as the run-through. He turns to his competitor and braces a smile, “Hey, thanks for doing this, Sunghoon. I know after everything that’s happened between us I shouldn’t be asking you to do me a favour like this,” he says sheepishly.

It was a lot to ask of his then-rival, to be so bold and ask Sunghoon to throw a first place just to save Minhee’s ass after he nearly destroyed his career, no one in their right mind should have agreed. But Sunghoon, despite everything, was as understanding as ever.

Your brother wasn’t accustomed to Sunghoon’s caring nature, Minhee’s impression of him up until this point was his enemy and what the media perceived him as, not the Sunghoon you knew, so when Sunghoon agreed, albeit a tad apprehensive, he was taken aback.

“I’ll do anything for her,” Sunghoon states clearly, his voice firm with determination, “And you, man. I can’t imagine what your mum has put you through up until now,” he admits. It was true that he was willing to do literally anything for you, but it was also true that he wanted to do this for Minhee as well. The more Sunghoon thought about it, it wasn’t Minhee’s fault for all this drama, it was all your mum’s fault. He couldn’t keep a grudge against someone who was only trying to protect their sister; if it was him, he would have done the same.

Minhee flashes a smile and light-heartedly punches Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Getting all gushy over me now, huh, Park?” he chuckles as the boy in front of him rolls his eyes in fake annoyance. Turning slightly serious, Minhee continues, “Y/N is my first priority in this world and to be honest, I didn’t care about winning until all this mess,” he confesses, a hint of anger pointed towards your mother in his voice.

“She’s mine too, Minhee. Just do your best out there and we’ll figure out the rest. I got you, man,” he smiles once again, hoping his sincerity comes through in his words. The lift bell dings as it arrives at their floor, and both skaters descend down to the lobby, on their way to the practice rink.

As they make their way across the street to the ice rink, the reporters are back on their case, shouting useless questions with zero substance. Sunghoon places an arm over Minhee’s shoulder, his lips against his ear, “Wanna hold hands? Really give them something to talk about?” he laughs, pulling him in tighter to his side.

The flashes go rapid at the gesture, “I don’t think we need to, Sunghoon. I think they might have already married us off,” Minhee says as his eyes focus on crossing the road, being the eyes for both of them as Sunghoon plays up to the camera.

“C’mon then, baby, we don’t want to be late for our warm-up.” Both of them laugh loudly, as they walk into the arena, ready to finally take to the ice.

______

The practice rink buzzes with anticipation as aspiring champions gather, each determined to claim National Gold. The distinct scent of ice and rubber immediately greets Minhee and Sunghoon as they step inside, a familiar aroma that stirs memories of countless hours spent honing their skills on the ice.

All eyes are on them, curiously following their every move. Unaffected by the attention, Minhee and Sunghoon enter together while exhibiting camaraderie and confidence. They chuckle lightheartedly at the hubbub outside, their laid-back demeanour in sharp contrast to the intensity of the upcoming competition.

Wonyoung waves at both of them as she skates around the rink, happy that her Belmore buddies are finally there to join her.

With Minhee spending a lot of time at the rink, he and Wonyoung have secretly become vast friends, even going as far as to help one another out when they cross paths. Your brother didn’t have many friends on the ice, the nature of the competition is a lonely one, so it was refreshing to get close to a fellow figure skater. And one as pretty as Wonyoung was simply a bonus.

As Minhee waves back eagerly, Sunghoon raises his eyebrow sceptically, “You’re cheating on me already? Did our 5-second wedding outside mean nothing to you?” he jibs at him, nudging his ‘lover’ with his shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” Minhee asks, never taking his eyes off Wonyoung.

“You’ve got a thing for Wonnie,” he says as a statement rather than a query, already certain of Minhee’s feelings towards the female skater.

Minhee snaps his face to meet Sunghoon’s gaze, “She lets you call her that?” his face shines a brighter shade of red as he realises what he just said, “I mean no. We’re friends, nothing more.” Despite Minhee’s protests, Sunghoon doesn’t buy it, only wishing to poke fun at him further.

“Hey, no judgment here, she’s pretty,” he places a hand on his new friend’s shoulder, “Y’know, she’s single, right? She broke up with that Ricky kid a few months ago,” he informs him.

Minhee nods sadly, “Yeah, she said in passing that she wasn’t getting involved with another figure skater.”

Wonyoung and Ricky lasted a whole 4 months before calling it quits, not exactly heartbreak material, but enough for her to swear off any man that adorns a skate, at least for the time being.

Noticing Minhee’s slumped body language, Sunghoon tries his best to give him some encouragement, “True, but you have one thing that he doesn’t,” he says, dancing his bushy eyebrows up and down.

Minhee tilts his head, “What?”

“You’re older and you’re about to be a Nationals Champion. I’d say that’s pretty hot, hmm? I mean look at me,” he gestures to himself smugly, “That’s how I got your sister.”

“Mate, don’t compare Wonyoung to my sister, you’re making this weird,” he cringes at the thought.

As they both watch Wonyoung practice her toe loops, Minhee spots someone at the corner of his eye, dragging his attention away from his not-so-secret-and-completley-obvious-crush, to the woman walking towards them.

Minhee elbows Sunghoon to grab his attention, eyes pointed towards Mrs. Park as she approaches them both, face void of any emotion.

Sunghoon’s whole body freezes, the last person he expected to see today was his mother; she hasn’t bothered to contact him since their big argument.

The thing is, Sunghoon had debated whether to reach out and try and fix the relationship they had, knowing that his dad would be so mad if he didn’t at least attempt to mend things with her. But it also wasn’t solely his responsibility, she could have texted him or showed up to one of his scheduled practices, he knows she still gets the notifications in her calendar.

Despite not knowing what transpired between the Parks, Minhee knows he needs to make himself scarce, “I’ll see you out there, yeah?” he faces Sunghoon whose sole attention is on his mum as she stands in front of him.

“Yeah, I’ll be on the ice in a minute. Grab me a rack?” still, Sunghoon’s eyes never leave his mother even as he speaks to Minhee.

The other boy pats his back as he goes to the changing rooms, leaving the pair to have what can only be described as a staring contest.

“Why are you here?” Sunghoon asks, tone laced with agitation and defiance. He couldn’t be civil to her, not when she insulted and belittled you so easily. Although her suspicions of foul play were correct, she blamed you without knowing anything or gathering any evidence against you. He can’t stand for it, not then and not now.

And then there were her careless words about his deceased father, words that still reverberated in Sunghoon's mind. The idea that his own father would be ashamed of him was a wound that cut deeper than any other, a wound he was still grappling to heal.

“I came to wish you luck,” she states, voice as monotonous as ever.

Her son crosses his arms, body language standoffish as he goes to speak, “I don’t need your luck. I don’t need your guidance or anything. I fired you, or was that not clear?” he hisses.

“You can’t fire me from being your mother. I still care about you,” she retorts. There is only a hint of emotion in her voice, otherwise, Sunhgoon is looking at his typical stoic mother. If he is to believe anything she says right now, she would need to show some form of depth.

Sunghoon sucks his teeth, “I have a new family now, I really don’t need you,” he states calmly despite the bubbling anger that is rising from his chest. He saw you, and now Minhee, as his found family, people he can rely on and trust without question which is more than he can say about the woman standing a mere 50cm away from him.

Since she has been out of his life, he has felt so free of most negative emotions. The mini panic attack he had the day he kicked her out of the house was enough for him to step back and re-evaluate their relationship. No one in the world should make anyone feel as little as she made him feel that day, so he vowed never to let anyone do that to him again.

“I can’t make you forgive me for how I’ve acted over the years, I don’t expect you to, but I would like to make peace,” she confesses.

Confused, Sunghoon leans back, his arms loosening from their knot slightly, “You had weeks to do that, why pick today of all days?”

Sunghoon’s mother shifts uncomfortably, a sense of awkwardness lingering in the air as she chooses an arguably inappropriate moment to broach the sensitive topic, "Sunghoon, I only want what is best for you," she begins tentatively, her voice tinged with a hint of regret, "And I know it may not seem like it, but I do care about you. Your father was the one with a paternal instinct; what I lacked in love, he made up for."

Her words hang heavy in the air, prompting Sunghoon to pause and reflect. It's a rare occurrence for his mother to admit fault or express any form of emotional vulnerability, leaving him at a loss for how to respond, this was all new to him, a road he didn’t know how to navigate.

“When your father died, I was left to shoulder the weight of showing you love when I couldn’t find it in myself to love you the way you deserved. It sounds cold and I can only apologise for feeling this way, but I think explaining this to you will make you hate me less, maybe even forgive me.”

"So that's it then?" he burst out, his voice edged with bitterness, "You're telling me you never loved me? That showing me any form of love was a burden? And you expect me to hate you less? You’ve got some nerve.” It’s amazing to Sunghoon how she can stand there and say this to her own son, asking for him to forgive her. His anger simmered, a storm raging within him as he struggled to comprehend his mother's words.

“It’s not that I don’t love you it’s just-”

“You are my mother, you’re supposed to love your child unconditionally, no excuses,” Sunghoon's voice pierced the thick air, full of despair and rage. Every fibre of his being shouted for justice, for the love he had sought but never got.

However, as he locked eyes with his mother, a harsh realisation came over him like a tsunami smashing on the coast. He realised with terrible clarity that demanding empathy from someone who lacked the ability to care was a lost cause.

In this moment, a profound shift occurred within Sunghoon. It was a silent acknowledgement, a decision made in the depths of his soul. He refused to play the endless game of seeking validation from someone incapable of offering it. He refused to subject himself to further anguish in a cycle destined for disappointment.

"I'm done," he declared softly, his words carrying the weight of finality, “I have never been happier with you out of my life. I have people who love me, I don’t need you anymore, these past few weeks have shown me that.”

His mother looks aghast at her son’s statement, feeling her own sense of betrayal right now. She had come here looking for reconciliation but instead, she only got kicked to the curb once again. The damage of the past had already been done.

“Sunghoon, please don’t shut me out. I’m trying to learn to be the mother you deserve,” she pleads with him, mustering up any way to make him forgive her.

He watches as her face washes over with something he had never seen before, sorrow perhaps. It twinges his heart to see anyone upset, but she can’t scribble out the past with one sign of regret. If she had approached this conversation differently, he may have seen eye to eye with her but saying she found it hard to love him wasn’t the best way to broach the subject of redemption.

It’s not in Sunghoon’s nature not to be a little understanding, he does know that some people lack the emotional intelligence to form loving relationships. But that isn’t the type of person he needs in his life right now, not in his formative years. He needs more people like you, people who love him and make it look easy, not burdensome.

Stepping closer to her, he gives her one more look over, “When I have kids, I will give them all the love you should have given me,” he spits at her, yet his heart is heavy with the realisation that he has lost both his parents.

“Wait!” she shouts, holding onto his arm.

Sunghoon's muscles tensed as his mother's grip tightened on his arm, her desperation palpable. He hesitated, torn between the desire to break free from her grasp and the lingering flicker of compassion within him.

"What?" he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration and exhaustion, "What more could you possibly have to say?"

His mother's gaze wavered, a mix of remorse and longing clouding her features. "I know I've failed you, Sunghoon," she whispered, her voice finally trembling with emotion, "But please, give me a chance to make things right. I may not have been the mother you needed, but I want to try. I want to be there for you, to support you in any way I can. I’m working on myself, please believe me."

As Sunghoon grappled with the weight of his mother's plea, a tumultuous storm raged within him. Each word she uttered clawed at his resolve, tugging at the fragile threads of forgiveness he dared to entertain.

He met her gaze, searching for any hint of sincerity amidst the tangled web of emotions. And as he looked into her eyes, he saw a vulnerability he had never witnessed before - a vulnerability that mirrored his own.

With a heavy sigh, Sunghoon gently removed his mother's hand from his arm. "I need time," he said softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. He didn’t know if this was the right choice, to at least not burn the bridge to his mother completely, but as he looked at her now, he felt his dad in his ear, begging him to at least consider mending the relationship.

Was there a chance for redemption, for reconciliation, buried beneath the layers of hurt and resentment? Or was this merely another chapter in their tumultuous relationship, destined to end in further heartache and disappointment? Sunghoon isn’t sure, but he’ll try.

With a heavy heart, Sunghoon stamps down his decision - one born from a fragile balance of trepidation and tentative optimism, "I need to think about this, all of it. I have people to consider, including myself, before I can even entertain the idea of letting you back into my life." he confessed, his voice trembling.

Sunghoon's mother nodded, her eyes shimmering with gratitude and a glimmer of hope. "I understand," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting. Good luck today."

His mother gives him one final nod before retreating, leaving Sunghoon with his decision. He sits with the echoes of his mother's plea - a silent promise to confront the demons of their past and forge a new path forward, one step at a time. And though the journey would be fraught with obstacles, he clung to the belief that amidst the pain and turmoil, there lay the possibility of redemption - a chance to rewrite the story of their fractured relationship and embrace forgiveness.

It was either the most foolish thing he had ever done or the start of his healing journey.

Making his way to the locker room, he sees Minhee lacing up his skates, weaving the strings around each of the eyelets. Sunghoon takes the moment to look at him and wonder how Minhee feels about his own damaged relationship with his mum. Was it as conflicting for him or was the decision to rid his mother from your family easy?

Sunghoon sits down on the saved seat next to Minhee, leaning back against the wall, his head thumping.

“You okay?” Minhee asks tentatively, not wanting to poke the bear.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon opens his eyes to gaze at Minhee, “Can I ask you something?” Nodding, Minhee sits up straight, awaiting the impending question, “Your mum, was it easy to, like, disown her?” It’s a strange question to ask someone but he hopes that Minhee’s answer will give him some clarity into his own situation.

Minhee ponders, never having really thought about it before, “I think it was, I mean, she put Y/N in danger, treated us both like shit, and blamed me for a lot of things that I didn’t have any control over. Emotionally, I think me and Y/N were both detached from her, which made it easy.”

Sitting with Minhee’s words, Sunghoon realises that the reason he finds it so hard to let go of the relationship with his mum is because he does care about her. She was cold and cruel, but never harmed him in any way. Her actions weren’t one of a mother but in comparison to you and Minhee’s mum, she was at least a smidge better.

Each mother strives for her kid to succeed, but the stark contrast resides in the motives driving their acts. While Sunghoon's mother pushed him to achieve out of a genuine desire for his success, Minhee's mother's obsession with propelling him to the top sprang from her own selfish gain.

Watching Sunghoon wrestle with his inner turmoil, Minhee places a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I may not fully understand what's happening between you and your mum, but from one disappointing son to another," he says with a soft smile, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere, “If there is a chance to fix your relationship, take it. As much as I’m happy my bitch of a mother won’t be in my life anymore, it doesn’t mean I don’t wish things were different. If you and your mum can sort it out, do it.”

Minhee’s speech is comforting, freeing Sunghoon of some of the tension in his body regarding the situation with his mother. It’s always a risk to forgive someone or give them a second chance, but it can also lead to stronger relationships.

In this moment, Sunghoon can at least say his mother is willing to try and redeem herself, unlike some mums in the world. It’s the bare minimum, but it’s a start.

"Thanks, Minhee," Sunghoon says, offering a grateful smile, "Do we kiss now, or?"

Minhee lets out a snort of laughter, playfully pushing his friend away. "Save those lips for the other Kang sibling, please," he teases, rising to his feet and balancing on his skates. "Although if you ever get bored of her…"

With an exaggerated wink, Minhee saunters out of the locker room, leaving Sunghoon feeling lighter and more at ease. This was exactly the conversation Sunghoon needed, Minhee was the unexpected friend he needed.

_____

You exchange the biting chill of the winter for the bustling ice rink as you step inside the venue. The vibrant atmosphere envelops you like a warm embrace. Excitement crackles in the air, mingling with the sounds of blades slicing through the ice and the chatter of eager spectators. With Nationals in full swing, anticipation pulses through the crowd as they await the next performances.

You arrived early to ensure you caught Minhee before his turn on the ice. As the women's event concludes, leaving only three skaters left, the arena buzzes with energy

Navigating through the throngs of people, your eyes scan the crowded rink for any sign of your brother. The busy venue makes it tough to find him, and you don’t even know what he is wearing. To be fair, he probably wouldn’t be out in the open arena, but rather residing backstage as he awaits the start of the men’s competition.

You walk up to one of the event staff and ask if you can go backstage to see Minhee, but of course, he doesn’t let you, “Sorry, Miss. Only skaters and coaches are allowed back there,” he says sternly. At least he’s doing his job, you suppose.

"Luckily for her, she's with me, right, Y/N?" Coach Kim's smile is infectious, and you nod eagerly, grateful for his timely intervention.

"Yes, that's right," you chime in, your mind racing to concoct a plausible explanation. "I'm a... a meditator! Yes, a meditator. I help the competitors find their zen before going on stage." You realise your impromptu lie sounds feeble, but you press on, hoping to convince the staff member.

The staff eyes you both sceptically, his scrutiny unnerving, "Then why do you have a family badge?" he questions, his tone heavy with suspicion.

Feeling the weight of his scrutiny, you look to Coach Kim for support, silently pleading for assistance in salvaging the situation.

Coach Kim steps in smoothly, his easy smile never faltering, "Ah, you see, Y/N is an important member of our team so she is practically family. Her position as a meditator is critical to my skater’s performance. She calms and focuses him before he goes out to the rink."

You give Coach Kim an appreciative look, quietly thanking him for his fast thinking. The staff member appears to examine his thoughts for a time before nodding in agreement.

"Alright then, you can go through," the staff member concedes, standing aside to allow you and Coach Kim access to the backstage area.

You walk beside Coach Kim, thanking him over and over again for getting you in. You didn’t just want to see Minhee to wish him luck, you had a surprise for him and Sunghoon, “You’re the best coach, has anyone told you that?” you beam at him.

Laughing, he nods, “A few times, yes, usually you or Minhee when you both want something,” Coach Kim points in front of you, “He’s in there.”

“Thanks, Coach!” you go to wave him off but he stops you in your tracks by gently grabbing your shoulder.

“Y/N, Minhee told me about your mum,” he sighs, troubled by the information. Surely Minhee didn’t tell him about the gambling or the skate incident, so what could he possibly know? “I’ll be candid when I say that I never enjoyed your mum’s company, not for my sake, but for yours and Minhee’s. Her deciding to leave you both high and dry like this is unforgivable,” his voice laces with disgust.

Coach Kim obviously only knows a twisted version of the events that went down recently, Minhee clearly careful with his phrasing.

“I just want to say, if you both ever need anything at all, a place to live, some extra work, a homecooked meal, whatever it is, you come and find me, okay?” His offer is generous.

To be honest, you hadn’t thought about the repercussions of your mother no longer being by your side. Where would you and Minhee live now? How would you manage to make ends meet without her support? The questions swirl around in your mind, each one more daunting than the last.

“You and Minhee, you’re both strong kids. I have faith that everything will work out for you, so don’t think too much about it. Just enjoy today,” he says as if reading your anxious mind.

Coach Kim's reassurance offers a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty. His belief in your strength and resilience reminds you that you're not alone in this, that there are people who care about your well-being and are willing to help you navigate the challenges ahead.

With a final ruffle in your hair, Coach Kim leaves you in the corridor, his words of encouragement resonating in your ears. It was nice to have his support, it makes you feel like maybe you and Minhee had a support system all along, all you had to do was shed your poison of a mother.

Your feet carry you to the door to the locker room, chapping it rapidly. You can’t wait to see him and wish him luck. Although your apprehension weighs strongly regarding the skate and how important it is for him to win, not just for his pride but also for your safety and future.

You haven’t had a lot of time to come to terms with how much trouble you could be in if your brother loses this competition; the foolish bets your mum has made in your name, taking money from some shady guys to make them, and how you’re somehow on the firing line in this situation - it’s a lot to deal with mentally.

Telling Sunghoon to just skate to the best of his abilities wasn’t because you aren’t scared of what could happen, you just wanted Minhee to know that he can win this on his own, no cheating, no Sunghoon letting him win, absolutely no interferences. After everything that has transpired with your mum, he needed this.

Of course, you need to be safe, if these bets fall short and you’re left with the debt, you can say goodbye to university and any of your tiny savings. If the men are as brute as Minhee made them out to be, you’re fucked with no way out of it.

Curiosity got the better of you this morning and you checked the odds for Minhee winning this competition which was 15:1. According to Minhee, she put on £50,000 which would mean she would get 750k. It’s more money than you could imagine having in your entire life and it makes you angry that not only has your mum put you in danger but that you wouldn’t see a penny of it.

The money isn’t important to you but the fact that she was essentially putting money above her own daughter's safety is a crazy, rage-inducing thought that you don’t think you will ever get over. How could you? And to make Minhee feel like he couldn’t win on his abilities alone? She has destroyed both of your self-worth and confidence over the years.

So today, your sole focus is on being there for Minhee, rooting for him and believing in his ability to shine as the extraordinary skater you know him to be.

As you knock again, you hear rustling around as someone comes to answer the door. The metal swings open to reveal your boyfriend, hair dishevelled as if he’s just combed his fingers through it and his costume twisted.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” he asks, poking his head out the door to check if anyone saw you coming backstage. Quickly, he pulls you in, “How did you sneak past?”

Your eyes swiftly trace the room to see the skaters all getting ready, some in just their boxers and others applying the last sparkles of their body mist. One guy is strutting around with tighty whities, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Sunghoon notices your eyes stuck to something before swivelling his head to catch sight of the well-endowed man, “Sweets don’t make me knock fuck out of every guy in this room,” he warns as one of his hands pinches your chin to drag your eyes away from the half-naked men and focus on him.

Honestly, the tint of jealousy etching onto his face is so hot, you wonder if you should start oggling at others more often. Sunghoon raises his brows, waiting for you to explain, “Sorry, Hoonie. I’ve never seen so many guys in their underwear before,” you try to use it as an excuse, as if the unfamiliar sight warrants your interest but Sunghoon isn’t buying it.

“It will be the last time you see it, I can promise you that,” he scoffs, taking your hand and pulling you towards the back of the room, clear out of everyone’s line of sight, or more, everyone out of your sight.

He places you so your back is against the sea of skaters, “So what are you doing here?” he asks again, this time a little more playfully, “Want a quickie before I go on?” he leans down to your lips, kissing you softly, “I can bend you over and show all these losers who you belong to.”

Shivers run across your spine as he kisses you, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. Someone walks by behind you and Sunghoon pulls you closer to him, eyeing the boy as he devours you in front of him.

Sunghoon was only half joking about fucking you in the middle of the locker room for everyone to see. He wanted everyone to know you were his and only his and no one should even look at you for longer than a second. If anyone dares to stare too long, he’ll make sure they can’t ever look at anything again through the black eyes and blood.

You give into his kiss and press your body against his, your tongues licking one another as you moan into his mouth.

“You’re both disgusting. Are you seriously going to fuck in a locker room with loads of people around?” Minhee comes up behind you, arms crossed as you and Sunghoon separate your bodies from one another.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Sunghoon murmurs into your ear, his lips brushing against your lobe as he reminisces about the countless intimate moments you've shared in Belmore. Suppressing a laugh, you feel a playful squeeze on your ass from Sunghoon, much to your brother's chagrin.

Minhee recoils, his expression contorted in disgust, "Guys, I might vomit if you keep grinding on each other while I'm right here," he pleads, his voice tinged with both embarrassment and humour.

With an affectionate eye-roll, you approach Minhee and envelop him in a tight hug, "Sorry, we forgot that displaying affection around you is considered a crime," you quip, injecting a touch of playful banter into the moment.

Minhee feigns annoyance, but you can see a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "I have a weak stomach," he retorts, trying to maintain his composure despite the teasing. As he lets go of your embrace, he notices something Sunghoon failed to, “What’s that?”

He points to the rolled-up A3 piece of card in your left hand. Through Sunghoon’s displays of affection, it’s slightly bashed at the edges but no real damage has been done.

“Oh! I made you both something,” you scurry around, pushing Minhee to stand next to Sunghoon as you unravel the white card, “Ta-da!”

While they were gone this morning, you took it upon yourself to make a sign. Typically, you always make a sign for Minhee at each competition, so the gesture is nothing new, however, this time, you had two people to support.

Sunghoon and Minhee both resemble puppies as they tilt their head in curiosity, reading the sign.

“Minhoon?” your brother reads out, “Is that…”

“It’s both your names merged! I thought it would be fun to support my two boys together this time,” you smile widely, holding your artwork proudly.

The sign took you approximately an hour and a half to complete, ensuring that each of their personalities was represented perfectly. On Minhee's side, you incorporated his favourite colour combination of black and blue, adorned with stickers of stars, Pochacco, and dainty white bows. This aesthetic is quintessentially Minhee, and he adores it, especially because you add a star for every gold he's earned.

On Sunghoon's side, you opted for a sleek white and black backdrop, accentuated with pink hearts to symbolise the number of months you've been together. To complete the symmetry, you included two little pictures of Tuxedosam, perfectly mirroring each side of the sign.

As you step back to admire your handiwork, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you've captured the essence of both Minhee and Sunghoon in this thoughtful gesture.

Minhee and Sunghoon exchange a glance before erupting into laughter, the absurdity of the earlier debacle and their playful charade of a secret love affair only amplifying the hilarity of the situation.

However, your heart sinks as you mistake their laughter for mockery. A small pout forms on your lips as you gaze at them, hurt evident in your eyes. "Is it not good?" you ask, your voice tinged with disappointment.

Instantly, Sunghoon and Minhee's laughter fades, replaced by a solemn expression as they see the hurt reflected in your eyes. Without hesitation, Minhee reaches out, his voice gentle as he reassures you, "No, no, Bubs, we love it, don't we, Sunghoon?" He looks to his friend, who nods earnestly in agreement. "See? We were just laughing about something else earlier," Minhee explains softly, wrapping an arm around you for comfort.

Feeling reassured by Minhee's words and his comforting embrace, you let out a relieved sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Oh," you say, a small smile returning to your lips as you realise your misunderstanding. "Well, as long as you both like it, that's what matters."

Sunghoon nods in agreement, his expression sincere. "It's perfect, Sweets. Thank you so much" he says softly, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. This is Sunghoon’s first sign brought by someone he loves and he could not be more thankful that the first one was handmade by the love of his life.

“C’mere,” Minhee wraps his other arm around Sunghoon, forming the three of you in a huddle, “Whatever happens today, I just want you both to know that I really am sorry for everything that’s gone on and I would take it all back,” he says sadly, knowing that his actions have caused distress and pain to the one person he loves in the world.

“I wouldn’t,” Sunghoon says suddenly, causing you and Minhee to look at him, “I don’t know, I think this has just brought us closer together, who wouldn’t want that outcome?”

Nodding, you both agree with his sentiment. This troubled time has been a rollercoaster but you’ve found strength in one another through it all. Would you wish your mother’s implications weren’t a part of it all? Sure, but look at the three of you now. You’ve bonded in ways you would never think possible.

And your boyfriend and brother are becoming friends, that is all you could ask for in a situation like this.

Minhee stares into Sunghoon’s eyes as he tries to communicate with him. He doesn’t know you know about their plan, and he certainly doesn’t know about you requesting Sunghoon to go against your brother’s wishes.

Nodding once as if answering Minhee’s internal question, Sunghoon steps back, sighing, “Now can one of you please help me with this costume? I’m tangled at the back and I don’t know how,” he begs, turning to show his dilemma.

“Mate, you’ve got your arm inside out,” Minhee says with a snort, solving the problem with one gentle pull of the sleeve and turning it the right way around. He buttons it up for him at the back before slapping his back roughly, “Okay, I gotta go, I’m on in 30 minutes and I wanna see what it’s like out there.”

“Good luck, Minhee,” Sunghoon says, a smile on his face as he brings him in for a hug, “Do well,” he squeezes him tighter.

Reciprocating his hug, Minhee smiles, “You too. And watch that skate,” he jokes as he pulls away to hug you next.

Sunghoon playfully huffs and crosses his arms, "Not funny, okay? It's too soon," he retorts, a smirk tugging at his lips. Despite the jest, there's a genuine camaraderie between them, a shared understanding of each other's quirks and humour.

You playfully punch Minhee's arm for his remark, eliciting a laugh from him before he waves you both off, heading towards the side of the rink to prepare for his performance.

As Minhee disappears from view, you're left alone with Sunghoon once again. He picks up the sign, a fond smile gracing his features, "I've always wanted one of these," he admits wistfully, his gaze lingering on the sign with a mixture of appreciation and affection.

You smile at Sunghoon's words, touched by his genuine sentiment, "I'm glad you like it," you say softly, stepping closer to him and resting your hand on his arm, "I wanted to do something special for you, sorry it was tied in with Minhee but I always make him a sign so,” you explain, stroking his forearm.

“I don’t care, I love it regardless because you made it.” Sunghoon’s eyes reflect warmth and gratitude as he gently places the sign against the wall.

“I promise, next competition when it’s just you, I’ll make one for only you,” you beam up at him, fixing his tussled hair as best as you can, leaving a kiss on his nose. Sunghoon looks deeply at you as if coming to a realisation about something, but you miss it, too busy focusing on the parting of his hair.

He holds your hips as you reach up to fix the back, his fingers squeezing you tightly as his heart flutters at the simple gesture. With the nape of your neck bare and in teasing Sunghoon, he leans down and places soft kisses upon it, savouring this moment.

The sudden affection makes you close your eyes, your hands now leaving his hair to hug him around his shoulders. His heart is thumping so loud you can hear it.

“Are you nervous?” you ask, nuzzling your nose into his hair. He doesn’t verbally respond, opting for a quick shake of the head but you can feel it in your bones that he is lying, his body betraying him, “You don’t have to be. Everything will work out whatever way the universe intends.”

Removing himself from you, Sunghoon gazes into your eyes once again except this time they’re filled with doubt. He is petrified of this skate because he knows if he accidentally wins, you’re in danger and that scares him because the threat is much more than he can handle. He doesn’t want to go against your request but for your health and safety, he will, he just has to do it sneakily so no one is mad at him. “You are going to do great, everything will be fine, and no offence but I really do think Minhee can win this,” you reiterate the words you’ve been saying to him since yesterday, only further proving your belief in your brother.

Sunghoon nods, but there's a hint of resignation in his gesture. "I wish I had someone like you in my corner while I was growing up," he confesses, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he looks away. His gaze flickers to the ground, weighed down by the weight of his past.

"You did have someone – your dad," you remind him gently, reaching out to bring his forehead to touch yours. "And you still do. He's been watching over you this whole time, and he is so proud of you."

Sunghoon closes his eyes, allowing your comforting words to wash over him like a soothing balm. In that moment of vulnerability, he finds solace in the warmth of your embrace, the love and support you offer serves as motivation to keep you safe.

He nudges your nose with his as he speaks in a hushed tone, “Are you proud of me?”

For years it was his parent’s love and pride he fought for, his father giving it up so easily in comparison to his mother, but now it’s only you who he needs reassurance and love from. Sunghoon wants to make you proud in every way he possibly can.

Your eyes sparkle with love for him, “Sunghoon, my body is bursting with how proud you have made me. There is not a fibre of my being that isn’t proud of you,” you try to convey your genuity, knowing he needs to hear it most right now.

Sunghoon's heart swells at your words, a wave of relief coming over him as he hears the sincerity in your voice. Your unconditional support means everything to him, and in that moment, he feels a sense of peace knowing that he has you by his side.

Tears well up in his eyes as he pulls you into a tight embrace, cherishing the warmth and comfort of your presence. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you. I love you so much, Y/N. I feel like I can’t breathe without you.”

As you hold Sunghoon tightly, his words sinking deep into your heart, you feel overwhelmed by the depth of your love for him. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, mirroring his own, as you realise just how deeply intertwined your lives have become.

"I love you too, Sunghoon," you whisper back, your voice barely audible, but filled with unwavering conviction, "You're my everything and I promise you, you don’t have to worry. I'll always be here for you, through every moment, every challenge. You're not alone, and you never will be,” you whisper into his ear.

With those words, you offer him the reassurance and comfort he needs, your promise of unwavering support echoing in the space between you. In this embrace, you find solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, you can weather any storm that comes your way.

______

Settling into your seat in the designated family and friends area, you turn your attention towards the entrance of the rink, where Minhee is seen stretching. His expression is a mix of anticipation and apprehension, the weight of expectations palpable on his shoulders.

Minhee may have struck a deal with Sunghoon to secure a win, but with that agreement comes the added pressure of not making any mistakes. One wrong move could unravel everything, turning his carefully laid plans into chaos. As he prepares to take the ice, the intensity of the moment hangs heavy in the air.

Flicking his blade protectors off, Minhee glides onto the ice, circling the rink to warm up and familiarise himself with the surface beneath his skates. Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, his mind is filled with positive affirmations, each one a silent plea for a flawless performance.

With every lap, he pushes himself to perfection, knowing that this is his moment to shine. All he has to do is skate flawlessly, and everything will fall into place. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, he tries to brush off the pressure with a casual "no pressure."

You watch him with a mixture of pride and hope, wishing you could convey your unwavering belief in him. You long for him to channel that same sparkle and determination that captivated everyone during his run-through at Belmore. As he takes his position in the middle of the rink, you silently send him all the positive energy and support you can muster, hoping some of it can be injected into him as he performs.

Shutting his eyes, the music begins and a hush falls over the audience, anticipation crackling in the air like electricity. With each breath, he channels his nerves into focus, his determination evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes.

Minhee launches into his routine with precision and grace. His movements are fluid, each step and turn executed with meticulous precision as he glides effortlessly across the ice. The audience is glued to him from the start, paying close attention following his every movement with rapt concentration. Minhee pushes himself to new heights with each jump and spin, blending his skills with his artistry, only making your heart swell with immense pride.

You hold your breath, slowly hiding your face behind the sign that you made as you know which part of his routine is coming next.

As the music crescendos, Minhee approaches the most difficult part: the quadruple axel, the one move he has based this whole routine on. He takes a deep breath, collects his strength, and throws himself into the air, spinning faster and faster until he completes four full rotations before landing with perfect elegance, leaving the audience breathless.

Standing up in amazement, you tuck your sign under your arm and clasp your hands, knowing it’s impolite to scream out of pure joy when an athlete is competing. Minhee’s quadruple axel today might have been the best you’ve seen in your entire life; the move is deemed one of the most difficult to accomplish and he just made it look like he does it every other Saturday.

Minhee expertly transitions into the last section of his performance, his confidence surging as he executes each element with accuracy and delicacy. His movements are filled with emotion, and his passion shines through in every beautiful gesture as he narrates a tale with each stride. He knows now is a straight run of easy manoeuvres he carefully choreographed to make sure the axle was the shining star of the performance.

It also means he can finally spare you a glance as he finds you in the crowd, a smile creeping on his face as he sees you standing with pride. You look hopeful that he might win and with your backing, that’s all he needs. He wishes he could win this without Sunghoon performing with the intent of losing, but he still has time to achieve that - your safety is all that matters.

As the music fades to its final notes, Minhee brings his performance to conclusion, his arms outstretched in triumph as he basks in the adulation of the crowd. The cheers that erupt from them are so loud you swear the glass might break. You can see the commentators also getting up in excitement, clearly enthralled by his performance.

And when Minhee makes his last bow, a sense of fulfilment sweeps over you, knowing that he had not only met, but exceeded all expectations that he and others had set for himself.

Gliding off the ice, he is met with the bone-crushing embrace of Coach Kim who adorns a wide smile on his face and tears in his eyes. The weight of their shared journey is evident in the strength of their embrace and Coach Kim's words of praise and encouragement are lost in the roar of the crowd, but the pride shining in his eyes says it all.

You want to be at Minhee's side, to share in the excitement of his triumph and to lavish him with praise. However, as you watch from the sidelines, witnessing Coach Kim and Coach Lee wrap him in a cocoon of love and praise, you can find comfort in knowing that he is receiving the ovation and admiration he deserves.

Minhee's heart expands with pride and delight, filling his chest with an incredible sensation of accomplishment. The excitement of the moment envelopes him like a warm hug, putting him on cloud 9.

Coach Kim leads him to the seating area where he must sit to see his final score. You sit with ease, knowing that this will be his highest mark to date, an accomplishment in itself.

As Minhee awaits the display of his scores, a nervous energy pulses through him, his heart pounding in his chest with anticipation. Every muscle in his body tenses as he fixates on the screen, his breath caught in his throat as he waits for the verdict of his performance.

Then, in a flurry of movement, the numbers appear on the screen, each category receiving high points for technicality and artistry, and Minhee's eyes widen in disbelief. The numbers on the screen read 298.5, causing both you and Minhee’s faces to mimic one another despite being on opposite ends of the arena.

Having never before topped a score of 213.74 - an incredible accomplishment in and of itself - his new record catapults him to a whole new level, putting him alongside figure skating giants like Nathan Chen and Yuzuru Hanyu.

You don’t even think Sunghoon has scored that well before.

Minhee stands frozen for a moment, absorbing the weight of his achievement, before a radiant smile breaks across his face. It's a culmination of years of dedication, sacrifice, and unwavering determination.

“Fuck me!” he shouts, jumping up to hug Coach Kim once again. There are more elegant ways to celebrate than swearing on national television, but you can’t blame him for being completely besotted with himself.

The crowd’s cheers die down and the atmosphere returns to a calm-like state, only chatter filling the silence as people discuss their amazement over your brother's skating. You could not be more proud of him if you tried.

Now you just need to wait for Sunghoon, hoping the tremendous score Minhee got would serve as enough influence to just do his best and not throw it for the sake of your mother’s stupid consequences.

An hour passes after Minhee's electrifying performance, the energy in the arena is crackling with excitement as the crowd eagerly awaits Sunghoon's turn on the ice. He is the golden boy of the figure skating world, and there is a lot of pressure on him to succeed, however, if he fails this one time, no one will be able to blame him or bat an eye at it; the score your brother set is almost impossible to beat.

You sit on the edge of your seat, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him lumber up, his movements cautious as he tests his ankle to ensure it's ready for his performance.

He glides onto the ice, warming up with some jumps and simple stretches. His ankle, still tender from the previous injury, protests with each turn and twist, but Sunghoon pushes through the pain. This was a 2-minute and 40-second skate, it’ll be over in a flash and he just has to get through it.

Sunghoon won’t admit it to you, or anyone for that matter, but being in front of all these people is terrifying him. The last time he performed this skate, in this outfit, in front of this many people, was the day he snapped his ankle. Not only the injury from it but the emotional damage it caused was hard to live with, and now it’s almost as if he is living that day all over again.

He glances around the family area to find you, sitting in your seat with adoration spread across your entire face. It’s like you have him under a spell, how his worries and fears seem to melt away as his eyes meet yours; the love between you casts a blanket of protection over his worries, the thoughts of making a complete full of himself gone so quickly, simply because of the sparkle in your eye.

Sunghoon skates over to your side, flashing you his beautiful smile, your favourite canines on full display. He looks so beautiful right now, the pressure normally placed on his shoulders by his mother has now vanished. This is the first competition he has participated in without the nagging of being perfect gnawing in his brain.

It’s comforting to know that even when he loses today, he has someone to run to who will show him love and appreciation for his efforts.

However, the words of his mother's promise from their earlier conversation twirl in his brain. Sunghoon wonders if they really could reconcile through all of this, after everything they’ve been through. He wanted love and his mother couldn’t provide him with that. But maybe she really is willing to make an effort, perhaps all they needed was some time to mend their relationship.

Once Nationals is over he’ll deal with that, but for now, he needs to focus. He might be set to lose but he will be damned if he comes anything but second.

Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon puts his arm in the air, gearing up for his performance as he stands in position. He looks like a vision in his costume, the spotlight on him makes the jewels shine brighter and the silhouette of his trimmed figure under the shirt is more evident than the first time you saw him in it. Rina had a talent for creating clothes but perhaps she should consider a career in designing skating costumes.

As the haunting melody of "Ocean Eyes" by Billie Eilish fills the arena, Sunghoon begins his routine. You don’t realise you’re holding your breath and your hands are clasped so tight together that they’re turning white. You want him to do well, to show everyone that even with an injury still looming under his taped up ankle, he is still miles above the rest.

Sunghoon launches into a flawless triple axel as the music swells, his body soaring through the air with precision and grace. He lands it clean, a small smile on his face despite his ankle pulsing. He hadn’t realised how sore it had been over the past few days, perhaps all that rehearsal time and coming back too early had finally done some damage. But that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is finishing the routine.

And to have fun.

With each beautiful turn and twist, Sunghoon's is reviving a passion that had laid dormant for far too long. It's a revelation, a flashback to his old self, a child consumed by the pure excitement of skating.

In the rink, he's letting go of his inhibitions and embracing the moment, a contrast to the stoicism that has defined almost all of his past competitions. The judges can see it too, with the joy he is showcasing through each glide of his blades across the ice, they are mesmerised. This is the Sunghoon that the people fell in love with, the skater that made them proud.

When he reaches the finale of his skate, performing a stunning combination spin that leaves the audience breathless, Sunghoon realises he has accomplished something far better than any medal or acclaim could ever provide. In this moment of perfect bliss, he reconnects with his passion, purpose, and the simple joy of skating.

You had shown him how to love skating again throughout your relationship, now added with the lack of pressure to win, he can finally breathe.

He’s home.

You are the first one to stand up, applauding your man for his flawless skate. It was perfect, he was perfect. The crowd follows suit, cheering and yelling as he bows, letting the praise wash over his body. You could not be prouder of him, the tears in your eyes are a testament to your feelings.

This is your first time seeing him in competition as his girlfriend which probably adds to the swelling of your heart, but it’s more than that. You have been a fan of Sunghoon for a lot longer and as a fan, there is nothing more fulfilling than seeing your favourite person achieve something, even if the accomplishment is happiness, you want him to be bathed in it.

However, with Sunghoon performing possibly one of his best skates in the past couple of years, it does set in the back of your mind that he still has to lose. You told him to go out there and give it everything he has but now the moment is getting closer and closer to determining your fate, you’re a little on edge.

You’re trying not to think about it because you know Minhee has done amazing and if he truly does beat Sunghoon today, you can breathe easy knowing you made the right call and that Minhee did this all on his own.

Your brother needs this.

Sunghoon stands straight and skates around the rink, lapping up the crowd's adoration. You’re too caught up in your head you almost forget your surprise for him; it wasn’t just the sign that you had planned.

Traditionally, skaters get things thrown into the ring; plushies, roses, the whole lot. Minhee was partial to receiving little dog plushies and yellow sunflowers - the perfect accompaniment to his brand. And Sunghoon would always receive roses and penguin toys, but you wanted to throw something that as he saw it on the ice, he would know instantly that it was from you.

Delving into your bag, your fingers close around the familiar packaging of Haribos. With a proud smile, you launch them onto the pristine ice, a playful gesture laden with significance. For you and Sunghoon, the colourful sweeties hold a special place in your hearts.

It was a reminder of not only you but of his dad. It’s something so silly but sacred to you both, the first knot in your invisible string. His father had been the bridge to connect you both when you were younger and if he could see you both now, he would be filled with unfiltered happiness.

Gliding gracefully toward your side, he spots the sweets nestled within the sea of roses and looks up at you, his eyes widening in glee.

With the Haribos clutched to his chest, he silently mouths 'I love you,' to which you reciprocate with a beaming grin, watching fondly as he skates back towards the rink's exit.

Coach Lee is the first to greet him, ruffling his hair and patting him on the shoulder as he sings his praises. It’s a little strange not seeing his mother there but Sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, too busy basking in the love from his coach.

Walking to the couch area, he sits and awaits his score. It just has to be under 298.5, that’s all it has to be. He grips the packet of sweets tight as he rethinks his whole performance. Perhaps he skated a little too well and that scared him because that can only mean you’re in danger of having those men after you.

He can defend you from a hockey player, but against a literal loan shark, he's out of his depth with that one.

As the scores begin to round up on the giant screen, your heart races with anticipation. Each number revealed feels like a drumbeat, echoing the beating of your heart. Usually, you would be begging it to slow down, your heart typically adorning a rapid pace in events like these, yet it is so still you think it might stop. It only seems to beat as each individual score is revealed.

Sunghoon is the same, fondling the Haribos like a stress ball as he sees the high scores, some seem higher than Minhee’s which nearly puts him into cardiac arrest. If he wins over Minhee, he might vomit all over his coach.

Then - as if the world has stopped - the final score flashes on the screen and materialises itself before you and Sunghoon.

Gasping, you drop your sign and shoot up, mouth hung open as your eyes stay glued to the numbers before you.

296.21

Minhee won.

“Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself, a smile splits your cheeks and your knees shake under you. Your brother won, through all his hard work and determination, he beat Sunghoon. And not only that, he bet him with his highest score to match. Sunghoon’s performance was awe-inducing, clearly indicated by the momentous score he just received, yet Minhee still managed to overtake him.

As Coach Lee offers Sunghoon a consoling pat on the shoulder, the atmosphere is thick with tension. Yet, Sunghoon can't feign disappointment. At this moment, there's only one thought racing through his mind.

You're safe.

Once the commotion settles down around the arena, the final scoreboard is unveiled to reveal your two boys at the top, miles above the others. It’s a moment you never want to forget, seeing their names beside one another with their respective medals makes you feel a happiness that you know comes few and far between.

The staff set up the podiums on the ice which are soon to hold your brother and boyfriend in pride of place. This is new, they’ve been battling each other for the top spot their entire careers yet this one feels slightly different.

Perhaps it’s because if your mother holds her end of the bargain, you’re free of the debt that you didn’t even create and she is hopefully nowhere to be seen after today. You want to be sad about it, but regardless of how strange it will be to no longer have her there, you’re thankful that Minhee can be free of her burden and you free of her deceit.

You watch on as Minhee and Sunghoon skate to their places, carefully stepping on the white boxes as the triumphant music plays through the speakers. They have done so well, much better than anyone could have anticipated.

With each medal ceremoniusly placed around their necks, the weight of the accomplishment settles upon Minhee. He thinks about what this means for you both and tears well up in his eyes.

You’re both going to have to start from scratch and find a new home to call yours. But he is also going to the Olympics, something he has dreamed of since he was a little boy, something you have wanted for him since he incessantly started talking about it.

His heart is filled with bittersweet symphonies as he looks ahead but he knows one thing is for certain - he will make sure you’re both happy.

“You can cry, y’know,” Sunghoon whispers beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing tight. When Sunghoon won his first National Gold, he wept like a baby in front of everyone and the pictures snapped became memes on Twitter by the next day.

Sniffling back his emotions, Minhee shakes his head. He refuses to let the floodgates open, fearing he won't be able to stem the tide once it begins. Each tear would symbolise the myriad of emotions he's bottled up over the past few months.

Instead, Minhee leans in close to Sunghoon, his words a soft murmur against his ear. "When I asked you to throw it, I didn't mean by the skin of your teeth. I almost lost," his voice carries a hint of frustration, though it's tempered by the overwhelming happiness of their victory.

Though Minhee is elated at the win, there's a simmering undercurrent of anger towards Sunghoon for nearly jeopardizing their chance to resolve the situation.

"But you didn't," Sunghoon responds with a playful grin, though Minhee finds little amusement in the situation. With a sigh, Sunghoon explains, "Y/N asked me not to, okay? You've known her your whole life, you understand how hard it is to say no to her."

Your brother can't help but agree; there's an undeniable sway you hold over others. Minhee nods, straightening up as the photographer captures a few shots of the medalists.

Turning to face Minhee, the silver medalist offers reassurance once the pictures have been taken, "You did this on your own, that's all she wanted, okay? You have a sister who believes in you more than anything else in the world. In a way, it's her trust in you that propelled you to this moment. People would do anything for that kind of support," Sunghoon whispers the last sentence, acknowledging the depth of his own longing for such unwavering belief.

Minhee knows he is lucky to have you in his corner. Often, he wonders what it would have been like to not have you by his side, and looking at Sunghoon’s dejected face now, he sees what it’s like.

“You have her too, Sunghoon. She’s got enough room in her heart for both of us, to watch us both succeed,” Minhee smiles softly, nudging his old rival with his arm, “Just don’t steal her from me, she’s all I have now.”

“You’re wrong,” Sunghoon wraps his arm around his newfound friend, “You’ve got me! Some would say that’s better than Y/N,” he exclaims with enthusiasm.

Rolling his eyes, Minhee fights a smile as he pushes Sunghoon off of him, a laugh escaping his lips. Sunghoon will fit right into his life, that much he’s certain of now.

_____

You stand amidst the bustling crowd, eagerly awaiting the arrival of your boyfriend and brother. The arena is alive with excitement, vibrant with the chatter of spectators praising both Sunghoon and Minhee's impressive performances.

As people stream past you, caught up in the post-competition buzz, you can't help but feel a swell of pride washing over you. It's almost as if you were the one receiving the accolades, so deeply invested are you in their success.

Then, you spot them making their way towards you, their medals gleaming proudly around their necks even as they've already changed into their regular clothes. To be fair, if you had won a gold or silver medal, you know you wouldn't ever want to take it off either.

With a quickening of your heart, you jog up to meet them halfway, your body colliding with Minhee’s as you hug him tight, squeezing him so hard that he could pop. But instead of complaining, he reciprocates with the same amount of enthusiasm.

“I can’t believe I won,” he says quietly, scared that if he says it too loud someone will pull him from this dream he is living in.

"I knew you could do it, Mini,” you mutter into his chest, your face squashed against him.

Kissing the crown of your head, he pushes you away, “Sunghoon told me you know about everything, what I asked him to do for me,” he says almost ashamed, holding your head close to his chest so you can’t see his face. He doesn’t want you to think less of him for having to beg Sunghoon to help him get you out of this mess you were unknowingly a part of, “He also told me that you told him to go against my plan.”

“I believed in you, Minhee,” you finally fight to pull your head from his embrace, gazing into his eyes as you try to project the belief you have onto him, “I knew you could do this on your own. No underhanded tactics, just you and your skates. I have always believed in you like that,” you pout as you see the words sink into his brain, a soft glow rushing over his face as your words instil him wil self-belief.

“Thank you, Bubs, for always being here for me,” he closes his eyes, a determined expression painting his features, “If she tries to come back and hurt you in any way or if she doesn’t keep her word I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe,” he says, speaking about your mother. It was hard for him to even call her that anymore.

Minhee says the words with conviction as he stares deep into your eyes. In some weird way, your mother's shenanigans have helped you and Minhee grow a bond stronger than ever before, something that should be deemed impossible, yet here you are.

Feeling the warmth of Minhee's embrace, you nod against his chest, your words a solemn promise, "Me too. I'll make sure you're living the life you want, the life you deserve."

The sentiment hangs in the air between you, a shared understanding of the depth of your commitment to each other's happiness and fulfillment. For a few precious moments, you simply hold onto each other, drawing strength from the connection you share as siblings.

But as your boyfriend coughs softly, attempting to subtly regain your attention, you gently pull away from Minhee's embrace, though the warmth of his presence lingers with you.

Turning towards your boyfriend with a reassuring smile, “Are you jealous you’re not getting attention?”

You finally throw yourself into Sunghoon's arms, a wide grin spreading across your face as you greet him with a deep, passionate kiss. You’re so full of love that if you don’t pass it onto him through your tongue sweeping into his mouth, you might implode.

As you break away, a sense of elation fills the air around you. Sunghoon's arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you close as if he never wants to let you go. His eyes sparkle with pride and affection, mirroring your own emotions.

"You did amazing, Hoonie," you whisper, holding onto him tighter as you pass your affection from your body to his. "Thank you so much." Your gratitude flows freely, a testament to your appreciation for his trust in your judgment that Minhee was more than capable of succeeding on his own.

Sunghoon sets you down gently, his hand cupping your cheek as he places a feather-light kiss on your nose, "You're welcome, Sweets," he murmurs affectionately, "Although, I did get a bollocking from Minhee back in the locker room," he adds with a laugh.

Minhee grunts, crossing his arms in mock annoyance, "Well, he deserved it, skating so well and all that," he says with a playful pout, eliciting laughter from you and Sunghoon.

"I'll take the compliment, Baby," Sunghoon retorts, making exaggerated kissy faces at Minhee, the playful banter between the two filling the air with warmth and joy.

“Yeah yeah, look, can you stop hogging my manager for a minute,” Minhee rolls his eyes as he speaks.

But you’re confused by his statement, "Manager?" you repeat sceptically, withdrawing from Sunghoon's embrace to face your brother directly, "What do you mean, manager?"

Minhee shrugs nonchalantly, but you can see the flicker of anticipation in his eyes, "Well, Mum's no longer in the picture, so I'm in need of a manager. And I thought you would be perfect," he explains, his words carrying a mix of hope and excitement.

The weight of his request settles heavily on your shoulders. You've never managed anything more than closing up shop at work, and the idea of being in charge of Minhee's entire career feels overwhelming. Even though you’re at Uni studying Events Management, it wasn’t exactly heavy on the management part, it certainly hasn’t equipped you with the skills to handle such responsibility.

Minhee senses your hesitation, and he steps closer, his expression earnest. "Bubs, I trust you more than anyone else in the world," he says softly, his voice pleading, "And just think of all the travelling you'll get to do, all the contacts you'll make. Please, Y/N. I can't go to the Olympics without you."

The mention of the Olympics sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. The event is being held in Paris this year which is a dream destination you've longed to visit since you were a little girl, and the opportunity to be a part of Minhee's journey to the Olympics fills you with both fear and exhilaration.

"Manager?" you repeat, still trying to wrap your head around the idea. The thought of being responsible for Minhee's career is daunting, but his trust in you is undeniable.

Minhee nods, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation, "Yeah, manager," he confirms, his voice tinged with hope. His confirmation of words hit you with a newfound gravity, you realise just how much this means to him. The thought of being by his side, supporting him on his journey fills you with a sense of purpose.

"Okay," you say finally, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach, "I'll do it. I'll be your manager."

A wide smile breaks across Minhee's face, relief flooding his features. He pulls you into a tight hug, his gratitude palpable.

"Thank you, Y/N," he murmurs against your hair, "You won't regret it, I promise."

Minhee pulls back from the embrace, his enthusiasm obvious, and you can't help but feel a burst of determination rush through you. You're going to attempt to be the best manager this world has ever seen. But when the reality of your new responsibility settles in, a question arises in the back of your mind.

"What about you, Sunghoon?" you inquire, turning to face your boyfriend, "What are you going to do now that you don't have a manager either?"

Sunghoon shrugs casually, though there's a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "I'm figuring it out," he replies with a nonchalant smile, "I don’t know if I really need one."

You can sense the unease lurking beneath his easygoing facade, and it tugs at your heartstrings. While Minhee's proposition has filled you with a sense of purpose, you can't help but worry about Sunghoon navigating the uncertain waters of his career without the support of a manager.

But before you can voice your concerns, Sunghoon reaches out, squeezing your hand reassuringly, "Don't worry about me, Sweets," he says, his voice soft but resolute. "I'll find my way, just like you and Minhee will."

He has a weird look on his face as he rattles his brain, wondering whether to let the next words slip out of his mouth. You stand patiently waiting for him to speak.

“I uh, I think the Olympics is going to be my last big competition,” he says quietly but the words ring in your and Minhee’s ears as your expressions fall into disbelief.

"What do you mean?" you reply, your voice laced with concern. The idea of Sunghoon giving up skating, the very thing he's dedicated his life to, feels unfathomable to you. After all the years of relentless training and unwavering determination, it seems unthinkable that he would consider walking away from it all.

Sunghoon had thought about it for a while, about giving up this life for a more simplistic one but the plunge always seemed too deep. But skating today without worry or fear and no pressure to win, gave him the courage to take the jump.

“I’m gonna ask Coach Kim if I can study under him and coach the kids. I’ve enjoyed doing it when I can and I think it could be good for me,” he explains.

"But this is your dream, Sunghoon," you protest softly, unable to shake the feeling of disbelief, "You've worked so hard for this."

Sunghoon shakes his head, offering you a gentle smile as he squeezes your hand in reassurance, "I found my dream," he says earnestly, his gaze softening as he looks at you, "And it's not about winning first place at competitions. I don’t need to chase anything else when everything I need is in front of me.”

You could melt at his words, the depth of his love and contentment washing over you like a comforting embrace. Sunghoon's clarity and conviction fill you with a sense of awe and admiration, even as you grapple with the weight of his decision.

In that moment, you realise just how much love this man has for you and how grateful you are to have him by your side. Although you need to make sure this is exactly what he wants.

"But what about all the years of hard work?" you find yourself asking, unable to shake off the concern that gnaws at your heart, "You've sacrificed so much to get to where you are."

Sunghoon's gaze softens, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand, "It wasn't all for nothing, Y/N," he reassures you, his voice tender, "Every moment on the ice, every win and loss, has led me here, to this realisation. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world."

You want to cry as a fan and mourn the loss of one of the best skaters in the industry, but as his other half, you are so immensely proud of him for following his heart and not just doing what others tell him to do.

"And besides," Sunghoon continues, a playful glint dancing in his eyes, "I'll still be skating, just in a different capacity. And who knows? Maybe I'll even finally teach you to do an axel.”

"In her dreams!" Minhee interjects with a booming laugh, breaking into your warm moment with his characteristic humour.

You shoot your brother a playful glare, flipping him off, but your attention remains firmly fixed on Sunghoon, "Okay, if this is what you want, I'll support you," you say, your voice filled with unwavering commitment.

Sunghoon's smile widens at your words, a wave of gratitude washing over him. "Thank you, Sweets," he murmurs, his voice soft with emotion as he pulls you closer, "I love you so fucking much, Y/N."

"I love you too, Hoonie," you reply, your heart swelling with love. "Forever."

With Minhee's career taking off and Sunghoon embarking on a new journey, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement for what the future holds. Everything has fallen into place, it just took reaching melting point to figure it all out.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops @aloverga

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #melting point #aj writes

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buckybarnesisdaddy · 7 months ago

Text

Meet Cute

Summary: You stumble upon a pottery TikTok account and the creator is super hot. When you win his contest for a custom piece, well sparks start to fly.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warning: Sexual innuendos, Smut (Oral, PiV), talks of fighting as kids, talks of alcohol use and being drunk. No protection sex (but it’s okay, they talk about it.) Minors DNI

Idea came from this post

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Another Friday night with nothing better to do than sit on your phone scrolling Instagram while a forgotten movie plays in the background. You really should be writing, you have a deadline coming up soon but you just can’t bring yourself to write about romance and love. You can hear Natasha saying goodbye to her date on the doorstep, and she has been for the last 20 minutes. Finally Natasha comes stumbling in, face flushed and giggling away, which is odd because Natasha never giggles. “So I take it the date went well?” You ask from your perch on the couch, covered in blankets and a bowl of popcorn cooled on the seat next to you.

“If you must know, yes!!” She gushes and runs over to sit beside you. “He is so sweet and such a gentleman-”

“What he as doing to you out there didn’t sound too ‘gentleman like.’ In fact it sounds down right scandalous.” You tease and Natasha rolls her eyes and gives you a playful shove.

“He was an absolute gentleman,” she doubles down before she blushes and admits, “well that was till I said all the right words and had him ready to eat me alive.” Natasha laughs as you pretend to retch. “Oh hush! If you ever got off this couch you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out and begging for you to talk dirty to them.” Natasha winks, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you sink further down into the couch.

“I have Bridgerton, and my own fictional men that I write, I don’t need a man.” You shoot back at her slightly insulting but meant in good fun jab at your non-existent dating life. “Anyway, where did you meet this guy again?” Natasha picks up a handful of popcorn before she realizes it’s cold. She wrinkles her nose but commits anyway to eating it.

“Tiktok!” Natasha answers over a mouthful. A loud laugh escapes for you and she gives you another play shove before taking the popcorn for herself. “We talked a lot online before we met up. He’s great, in fact i have made lots of friends from TikTok! You should give it a try!” Abruptly standing up and shaking your head, you walk to the kitchen to retrieve a drink.

“No way, I know myself and I’d end up sucked Down the rabbit hole and I’d never get anything done. And for the sake of my job, I can’t have that.” Natasha sighs a unmutes the tv.

“What a waste of a good ass and ‘I'll beg for it eyes’.” Natasha teases and you can’t help but laugh again as you enter the room with your water and a drink for Natasha.

“What kind of videos did you think A) I would be watching and B) potentially making?!” Sitting down next to her giving her a hard stare. Natasha stares straight ahead, purposely not meeting your gaze as she shrugs.

“Anything you wanted, Bunny.” She looks over and winks, using the old nickname you got back in college after too many drinks and a spin on a pogo stick.

“Wow you must really be worried about my good ass and ‘beg for it’s eyes’ going to waste if you’re baiting me with that name!” You lean back and prop your feet up on the coffee table. Natasha leans her head over and eats it on yours.

“All I’m saying is the first step in dating is getting yourself out there. Why not start with a stupid video app? Connect with others from the safety of a screen, and see where it goes.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before she yawns and stands again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower,” she blushes, “My man got me pretty worked up.” She winks and dashes off. You shake your head and just laugh as you turn back to your movie. That night you toss and turn, unable to sleep. You can’t stop thinking about what Natasha said. Maybe it would be fun, it’s not the pressure of a dating app and you can give out as much information as you are willing to. What could go wrong? Knowing Natasha is still awake as you quickly send her a text.

‘Fine… make me a page but keep it generic.’ About as soon as you put your phone down it dings. You pick it up to find multiple messages from Natasha. ‘Yay! I already did! Here is the login! Have fun!! 😉’

**********************************************

Bucky is setting up in his garage studio when he hears the bike rev outside and then turn off. Steve walks in and lays his helmet down on one of his work tables.

“So? How did the date go?” Bucky asks as he sets down a bucket of water next to his wheel and sets a sponge out next to the bucket. Steve leans against the table and grabs a chunk of modeling clay. He starts to knead it in his hands, treating it like a stress ball as he smiles.

“Honestly? Amazing! I mean, really Buck. She’s great!” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. “You know you’re never gonna find a women unless you actually get out there and try to date.” Steve teases and Bucky just throws a rag at him.

“Yeah yeah, hand me that clay and let me get paid, okay?!” Bucky jokes and Steve tosses him the clay. He slaps it down on the wheel and Steve laughs.

“See, that right there would have women lining up and down the street for you!” Steve turning Bucky’s harmless actions of slapping his clay into sexual jokes and Bucky returning the favor is something Bucky hopes they never outgrown.

“Yeah, and the boys would be lining up to have you handle their wood, we’d be making bank if we started charging.” Steve laughs and shoves Bucky.

“Woodworking is a noble hobby.” Steve rebuts.

“Noble and as old at time!” Bucky had the last say. “Now, shut up and press live for me.” Bucky smiles and Steve pretends to be annoyed as he does what was asked.

**********************************************

You want to be upset that she did it before you gave her permission, but you know she means well. Your last relationship did not end well and you haven’t dated since, honestly you’ve been sacred to. Natasha just wants to see you happy. You download the app and use the login information Natasha sent you. Apparently she’s been following people for you and set up the whole account. She was nice enough to not include a picture of you, instead she added the generic pictures everyone can choose from when they start a profile. She put that your name is ‘Bunny’, you she’s your head and just laugh, reminding yourself to change that later. You see you username ‘talkdirtytome’. “Oh Nat,” you groan. Becoming a master at TikTok in a matter of minutes you find where to change your username, but seeing as Natasha had changed it 5 times in less than 2 hours, your account is locked to more changes for at least a week. Thankful that the username you ended up with wasn’t so bad considering one of the last names was ‘fckbunny'. “Oh my god, Nat. You are so dead!” You take a deep breath and sit up against your headboard. You remind yourself it’s not the end of the world and it’s just the internet, it’s only forever. Ready to give it a rest for the night you lay your phone down when you get a notification.

*Buchananclaymates is going live*

“Who the hell is that and why does it sound like porn?” Even as you ask yourself that very important question your thumb has already clicked on the notification. You are taken to the live screen on TikTok. On your screen sits the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blue eyes pop against the blue henley he is wearing and his hair is short. Theres a boyish charm to him even though he is clearly in his early late 20’s maybe even early 30’s. He is sitting in some kind of garage and on the shelf behind him sits a dozen or so pots, pitchers, mugs, plates, all of them handcrafted. What gets you the most is his little New York accent slipping through his words. Not too much but enough that you can pick out the Brooklyn in him. His voice is so smooth, you could fall asleep listening to him talk about pottery. And his laugh, it makes you smile and you want to hear it again, so light and free, beautiful. As the shock of how beautiful this man is finally resolves, he says something that makes your heart drop straight to your stomach.

**********************************************

Bucky is having fun as all his followers sign on and begin requesting stuff. He starts to work the clay and begins his steps on making a pitcher. He is taking a moment to read some of the chat when a new user pops up. He memorized all his regulars, and yes there is about 100-200 of them but he has a good memory, against all odds and every concussion he had as a child. But his is one he has never seen before. He cleans off his hands and moves the camera closer.

“Hey, I see some new people here tonight,” He gets a better look at the username and he can’t help but blush and laugh as he teases his new viewer. “User ‘talkdirtytome’ I feel like you might be on my wrong account.” He winks. “I’m just messing with you! I do have another account and it is a little more… well-“ **********************************************

A voice from somewhere behind the camera shouts, “thirst trappy!!” The man Blushes but also nods, “yeah, I guess Rogers is right. It’s full of pottery thirst traps. But nothing more than that. This is a pg-13 page so, ‘talkdirtytome’ save it for the DM’s” he winks and laughs again. You look at the comments pouring in as the live continues, some are asking about buying some of his work. Others are asking if he makes custom pieces. Other ask what’s his favorite type of clay to use, you didn’t know there were different types. But overwhelmingly the comments were asking ‘take your shirt off!’ The man didn’t seem bothered by the comments at all, in fact he ate it up. Flirting and teasing the viewers with movements that showed little sections of his stomach or leaning forward and letting his shirt dip enough to see down it. He truly is a showman because you are entranced and before you know it you’ve spent an hour on this live watching him talk about pottery, and getting to know a little about him. You find yourself wanting to know everything, he seems so sweet and his eyes are kind. You don’t even realize you’re drooling over him until he starts rapping up the live. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re sad when he finally says goodnight and cuts the live off.

**********************************************

Bucky is pleasantly surprised with how well this live went. He got 15 orders while on live and he got about 1000 new followers. He knew he was pulling out all the stops tonight and flirting hardcore. Making sure he didn’t wear an undershirt so when he raised his arms the comment section went wild with the tease. Putting his hair in a half up half down bun that he knows drives his followers crazy. He was playing for keeps and thankfully it paid off. Especially with his most interesting new viewer. Why this new user caught his eye he will never know, ‘talkdirtytome’ was probably some 59 year old bald guy who found Bucky hot… but he couldn’t help hoping that maybe the user was really some really beautiful women in her late 20’s… a guy can dream, right?

**********************************************

You quickly click to his profile and do a little stalking. You can’t find this other page he talked about, probably because it’s some onlyfans or something like a cam sight. He was probably keeping it PG so the TikTok police didn’t flag his video. You’ve only been on it for about 2 hours but you’ve heard all about people getting banned or blocked because their videos were “too mature.” You give his page a once over again you finally clock his name. “James, huh. How very.. normal.” You blush and quickly jump back to your page, feeling exhilarated you change the profile picture to one of you. It doesn’t really show much, in fact all it shows is your hair and a hidden side profile… but it’s a step. You then find James page again and quickly, before you can second guess yourself, you follow him and set up notifications. You don’t want to miss seeing this beautiful man. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. You lay your phone down and drift off to sleep, happier than ever.

**********************************************

Right before Bucky is about to go to bed he sees a new notification,

*New Follower- Bunny*

“Who the fuck is Bunny??” Bucky asks out loud as he clicks on the profile. He sees the username at the top ‘talkdirtytome’, “Ahh so Baldies name is Bunny, great.” Bucky groans. But then he sees the profile picture. “I wait, that’s a women. Wait- that’s?! FUCK YES!” He about yells from the comfort of his room, and only bring his voice down because he remembers Steve is on the other side of the wall. He messages you and then Bucky goes to sleep one happy man.

**********************************************

The sun streams through your window and you wake up to the soft buzz of your phone. You stretch and start your morning routine before actually checking the said phone, because you know the time suck that will happen if you just sit and scroll instead of getting up and ready. A text from Natasha saying she’s meeting ‘her man’ and will bring you back a coffee. You start to set your phone down when you notice a little red bubble on the TikTok app. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find your way back to your bed before you open it. The butterflies that burst in your stomach and travel throughout your body leave you breathless when you see that you have 5 messages from ‘Buchananclaymates’ aka Bucky.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!” You start screaming as you take deep breaths and try to calm down. “Okay, it’s okay. He’s just a dude. He’s hot! But he’s just a guy, just read the messages.” You click them open and one by one your face heats up more and those butterflies become stronger lower and lower in your body.

*Messages*

Hey!

I see I have a new follower 😉

Glad I didn’t scare you off with all that teasing.

Hope to see you around again!

Maybe even here, 😏 ‘claymatesbuck’

“Oh my god,” you groan at the innuendo of the second username. “So it’s definitely porn!” You exclaim, not sure how you feel about this. “Of course the guy I find attractive is the one with a porn page.” You groan. “You really know how to pick em!” You pout for a moment and then you realize that you’re home alone. Natasha is out and will be for awhile. Your curiosity pushes you to click on the username and you are taken to another tiktok page. Every thumbnail for each video is of Bucky shirtless and working with clay. “He wasn’t kidding about the thirst traps.” You blush as you click on one video. It start to play and there is a semi sexually suggestive song playing as Bucky works the clay in his hands. Molding it and shaping it just how he wants. His biceps are on display and his abs, he ends the video with a little wink and lip bite.

“Oh my god!!” It comes out as more of a moan than it did an actual exclamation. “Oh Natasha, what have you done?!” You groan as you lay on your bed, ready to spend the morning watching every video on his page.

Before long you end up pressing that follow button and closing the app before you can do anything else to embarrass yourself.

**********************************************

Bucky sees your follow on his other page and if he sits down and plans out the next few videos to be exceptionally dirty, well maybe there was a correlation. Or maybe not.

**********************************************

The next two weeks you find yourself watching James new videos he posts and viewing his lives whenever you have a chance. He really does work great with his hands and half the time you forget that he is shirtless until he’s winking at the camera or he’s flirty and teasing everyone saying ‘You guys need some water.’ You wish you had the courage to message him and get to know him a little more but your nerves get in the way each time before you can press send. James will send you flirty messages and you will like them but you can never bring yourself to respond. You interact just enough to let him know to keep doing it.

It’s Friday night again and you see he is going live, like always you join and just watch. “So I have recently reached almost 10,000 followers on here, which is a huge milestone and I wanted to celebrate it!” He sits closer to the phone screen and you get a better glimpse of his eyes. Even. Bluer than you originally thought. He has little creases by his eyes that crinkle when he smiles too big and his nose scrunches up. He’s perfect. “Anyone that wants to be added into the drawing leave a comment on my last video saying so. This drawing is for a custom pottery piece of your choice. So if you win I will make you whatever you ask for,” he smirks, apparently knowing some of his followers a little too well. “Well within reason. No ‘life art’ sculptures.” He winks and you feel the blush start to rise. Would someone really be that bold to request that of him? “Anyway, the drawing will happen tomorrow at noon! So go comment now for the chance to win.” He signs off with a little wave and wink. Without even thinking, because if you think about it you will back out, you comment and ask to be added in. Within minutes he has liked your comment and sent another message to you.

*message*

I was gonna add you in regardless. 😉

The heat is almost burning in your face, he doesn’t even know you. How could he be this good at getting a rise out of you?! Your brain won’t shut off that night, thinking and even dreaming about this man behind your phone screen. “Damn it!” You grumble and end up having to watch some old Disney movies just to keep your mind off the filthy things you wish James would do to you instead of the clay he usually is holding. You finally drift off to sleep to the sounds of Cinderella.

****************************************************

“Hey!” Natasha pulls you out of your thoughts as you look up from your morning coffee.

“Hey, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she looks you over. “Man you were really out of it. Didn’t even hear me invite you out.”

“Huh?” You hum in acknowledgment and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“I said I am going out later with my TikTok boyfriend and he has a friend that he can invite if you wanted to join.” She explains for the second time.

“Oh umm now? I-“ you try to think of an excuse, not wanting to miss the drawing on James page. “I actually have plans. With someone online.” Natasha shoots up straight and about squeals in excitement. “Okay okay, calm down.” You laugh. “It’s not a date but this guys been super flirty and I- I don’t know, maybe today I will finally make the move and message him back.” You shrug trying to play it off.

“Tell me everything, now!!” Natasha demands as she sips her coffee. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” You debate on lying, or just making it juicier than it is, but you decide against it.

“Okay, just don’t laugh.” You remind her before you tell her everything. She already has his page pulled up and is drooling over him too.

“He is hot!! Wow, and he said all those things to you?!” Meaning the messages he had sent.

“Yeah, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to drum up business-” Natasha shakes her head.

“No, absolutely not. He is flirting hardcore.” She keeps looking through videos and one seems to catch her eye as her eyes widen and then a big smirk crosses her face before she exists out of the app and lays her phone down. Super quiet and worrying you even more than she does when shes asking you a million questions. “You said there is a drawing today?” You nod and you can see the wheels turning already. “At noon?” She asks and you nod again, she checks her watch and then opens her phone, obviously sending a message to someone.

“Natasha if you are messaging James, so help me-“ she cuts you off.

“And so what if I am?” She teases. “I’m just doing the hard work for you, the correct response is ‘thank you’.” She blows you a kiss as she leaves the room, leaving your stomach in knots and even more worried about this drawing.

**********************************************

Steve is in the garage with Bucky, getting ready for the drawing for his page and starting to film some more content for his own carpentry and woodworking page when he gets a text. He looks over at Bucky and then just laughs and quickly answers back.

“What’s so funny Punk?” Bucky asks and Steve smiles.

“Nothing, Jerk. You need help with the drawing? Where’s the bowl?” Steve asks as he slides his phone back in his pants. Bucky points to where he sat it and Steve grabs it to help.

**********************************************

“Okay everyone, it is noon and we are ready to get this show on the road!” James says happily. You refused to let Natasha sit and watch with you. She can watch on her own phone, but she won’t have a front row seat to your blushing or your disappointment when you inevitably lose. “I had over 500 of you enter, which is just incredible! Next time I should make each entry like $3 and send all the proceeds to wounded warriors.” You gently smile at the kind idea. It’s sweet, thinking of others instead of finding a way to make a bigger payday for himself. “Okay, let’s draw! The bowl, Rogers!” A hand comes into frame and the bowl is above James head. He lifts an arm up and reaches in pulling one slip of paper out. And as soon as the arm appeared it disappeared. James opens the paper and smiles before it turns to a laugh and then a smirk. “Well, user ‘talkdirtytome’, I am looking forward to making that custom piece for you.” You swear he stares right at you as he bites his lip and smiles again. “To everyone else, there will be more in the future! Oh and ‘talk dirty’?” You sit up and answer him like an idiot.

‘He can’t hear you, moron.’ You shake your head.

“I’ll be in touch. Bye everyone!” And the live ends. You lay your head down on your bed and just smile at the thought that James will be making a custom piece of pottery for you. When Natasha speaks she scares you half to death, not having heard her sneak in.

“WOW, you’ve got it bad!” She teases and you toss a pillow at her.

“Leave me alone!” You laugh and yell as you look down at the message that just came through.

**********************************************

When he read your username he had to remind himself that he can’t be partial, at least not on camera, but he couldn’t help the smile. He is gonna do this right and he refuses to mess it up, he’s got just the plan. He grabs his phone from his stand and quickly messages you.

**********************************************

*Message*

James- Idk how you feel about exchanging numbers, which I’d be fine with but I understand if you’re not. So zoom? Maybe later this afternoon?

You blush and quickly write back. Saying that you can’t wait and you will “see” him then. James likes your message and then sends a picture of binoculars. It’s so random and weird but you can’t help but laugh. Maybe Natasha’s right, you do have it bad.

You check your hair about 10 times, make sure your make up is okay, not too much but just enough to make it look like you’re not wearing any at all. Your sundress that you were already wearing perfectly accents your figure and makes your eyes pop. You check the lighting in your room and play with the blinds. With 10 minutes to spare before the arranged time for the zoom you sit down as your computer notifies you that you are in the “waiting room.” Whenever Jane slogs on the camera will turn on and that will be it. As you wait so many thoughts cross your mind. ‘He’s probably gonna be short and keep it super professional.’ ‘He may flirt for the camera but there’s no way he’d actually like me.’, ‘Calm down, he’s probably gonna be on and off as fast as he can.’ You start to doubt yourself and you suddenly feel self-conscious for looking nice. Right as you’re about to throw your hair up and grab a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, the screen goes black and then lights up, James is right in front of you. He doesn’t look right at you, still messing around with his notebook and taking a drink of water, obviously not realizing that you two are already connected. At first when he sees you his eyes just glance over. But then the realization hits and his eyes widen

**********************************************

“Wow,” Bucky is breathless. You’re not just beautiful, you’re stunning. He’s never been mesmerized by a single thing or person in his life, until this moment. “I- uh I’m-“ he lightly laughs as he smiles, he can’t stop smiling. “Hi I’m James,” he laughs and blushes as he hangs his head for a moment. “Um but people who have seen me stutter and stumble over my words, like an idiot, get to call me Bucky.” Your smile is contagious and your eyes sparkle brightly as Bucky talks more and more. Your laugh is sweet and music to his ears.

“Hi Bucky, I’m Elizabeth but people who can make me laugh this much can call me Lizzy or Bunny.” You lean forward a little and Bucky laughs.

“Bunny? There’s got to be a story behind that.” He presses lightly. You nod and hide your face for a moment as you blush and giggle.

“There is, but all I can say now is, it was college and I was very drunk, and someone dared me to use a pogo stick… and it turns out I was VERY good at it.” You laugh and Bucky is amazed as he laughs.

“Well so am I so maybe we will have to have a competition to see who is better.” He winks and you laugh.

“Tell me when and where! I’ll just need a few shots first then my balance will be perfect!” You lightly joke as you both laugh. It gets quiet for a minute and Bucky is just taking you in. “So,” Bucky’s eyes go wide as he remembers the whole reason for the zoom.

“Yes, right! Well how about we start by you telling me what you would like.” Bucky says as he grabs his notebook, looking down and starting to write, maybe if he focuses on writing he won’t embarrass himself even more. But then you start to speak and Bucky can’t help but look up and meet your gaze, your voice so sweet and soft. Your eyes kind and warm, ‘how could the username ‘talkdirtytome’ belong to the picture of purity and kindness.’ He smiles at the thought and tries his hardest to listen as you talk.

“I’m not picky at all, so maybe a vase?” You suggest. “Yeah, I’d like to have a gift that means something to me.” You finish explaining. Bucky just stares and then realizes you are done, he quickly looks down and starts to scribble some notes. He is so handsome, you think. The way his brow furrows as he’s concentrating and how the subtle but noticeable blush spreads across his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and you can tell he is solid. His voice, deep and warm, catches you off guard and you hope he didn’t catch you looking starry eyed at him.

“A Vase? That I can do!” Bucky says happily. He didn’t miss how your voice turned ever sweeter when you said ‘a gift that means something.’ He tells himself not to bet too excited. “Colors? Designs?” He wonders what all is hiding in your mind and if you will share it with him now for this vase. If he can get a picture of who you are.

“I love wildflowers, if I’m being honest. But not bright and bold. More subtle and muted. Almost watercolor like.” You laugh to yourself and you see Bucky’s eyes light up at the sound. “Sorry I know that probably sounds weird.”

She’s perfect, Bucky thinks. “Watercolored wild flowers? Yeah, I can make that happen.” He doesn’t want this to end but he has all he needs. How to make this go longer?! “So- I’m local to Brooklyn- and you by no means have to tell me where you’re from or anything- unless you want to!” He cringes at his awkwardness and your giggles let him know it’s alright.

“I am too, well close enough.” You explain. “So maybe we could meet up?” You see Bucky’s eyes light up and then you shoot yourself in the foot. “When it’s time for me to pick up the vase.” His eyes look a little sadder but his smile doesn’t fade.

“Yeah, I’ll send you a message on TikTok when it’s ready and we can find a place to meet.” Bucky says as he sits back in his chair. “I’m excited to get started on it, it looks like a fun one.” He continues as he looks down at his notes.

“I know it will be wonderful, all your work is.” You compliment, wanting to make up for your error that cause the light to dull in those incredible blue eyes. “I do have a question,” He leans forward again.

“Shoot.” Plan and simple.

“Well, what’s up with your two different accounts and the one username? Because at first I thought it was a porn page.” You explain, hopping to get a laugh. And you did. Bucky laughs, his hand over his pec and head thrown back with abandon.

“Oh no! Were you disappointed?” He teases and you laugh.

“Well maybe I was!” You tease back, not quite sure where the courage came from.

“Well as you know now, I go by Bucky. So I just used the ‘Clay mates’ and my name which does sound a lot like-“

“Yeah! So why?” You press again, smiling even bigger.

“It was a dare from a friend and it kinda stuck. I get tons of people asking so it also generates conversations around my business and what not. So it works! Is it crass? Kinda. Do I care? No.” He laughs again and messes with his hair a little. “So you know I make pottery but what do you do, Bunny?” He smirks and your face is aflame at the use of your nickname.

“I’m a writer, I write romance novels.” Suddenly feels quite bashful about your job. Bucky nods and rubs his chin as he watches you.

“So? Is this a meet cute worthy of one of your books?” Bucky asks. You look behind the computer at your wall where you storyboards are. A gentle smile washes over you as you look back at an expectant Bucky.

“Yeah, I’d say it is.” You admit. An alarm goes off on Bucky’s side of the screen and he curses under his breath.

“Sorry, Bunny. I’ve got to go. If I’m being honest I really wish I didn’t. I’d love to stay here all night getting to know you, I promised a friend I’d go out tonight and I never break a promise. So with that knowledge handed to you on a silver platter,” you laugh and he smiles brightly again. “I promise I will make you a gift that means something.” Your breath catches and you nod slightly.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say before you both wave goodbye like dorks.

**********************************************

Your chance, gone. Like a lot of chances in your life. Watching them go by because you don’t have the courage to ask for what you want. Natasha walks into your room and pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, we are late.” You finally agreed to go out with just her when you started to come down from the high of getting to talk to Bucky. “I promise, you will have fun. In fact this will be the best night of your life.” She hugs you and leads you to the door. As it opens you come face to face with Natasha’s ‘tiktok boyfriend’

“Hiya Stevie,” Natasha coos as she leans in and gives him a sweet kiss. Steve meets your gaze when he pulls back and offers his hand.

“Hey! I’m Steve Rogers,” he motions beside him, urging someone to move in closer. “And this is my friend Bucky Barnes.” You meet those blue eyes and melt, Bucky’s painfully awkward smile turns genuine when he sees you. He almost shoves Steve out of the way to get closer to you.

“Oh my god- Bunny?!” Bucky exclaims. “So your friend who made your TikTok account is the same one my friend has been dating for the past two months,” he smiles and laughs. “What a small world! God, I’m glad to see you.” You blush at the nickname, Natasha bumping your arm and Steve giving you both a questioning look when he hears the name.

You are just as shocked as Bucky and honestly can’t find the words.

“I’m stunned,” you laugh and look at Natasha. “Did you know?!” You ask her and she smirks as she pulls Steve into her arms.

“I would know my man’s voice and hands anywhere, so when I saw and heard him on one of Bucky’s videos I quickly texted Stevie and we worked our magic.” She winks. “I mean out of 500 entries for the pottery and you won! How lucky was that.” She winks again and you gasp.

“Did you two rig the drawling?!?” You exclaim and Bucky shoots a glance to Steve who is blushing bright red.

“I may have added a few extra slips with your name.” He admits. Bucky turns and faces him as he crosses his arms.

“How many?” Bucky asks and Steve laughs and sheepishly admits,

“Like 200 extra slips. She had a very good chance at winning.” Steve looks at Natasha and then you and Bucky. You both laugh and Bucky turns back to you.

“Well I’m sure as hell not mad,” he reaches out for your hand. “Are you?” He questions and you shake your head no as you put your hand in his. “Good,” Bucky leans in closer and pulls you in, your lips almost brush when you hear your apartment door close and lock. Looking back you see that Natasha and Steve have slipped inside. “So I guess it’s just us tonight,” he laughs and you agree. “What would you like to do? Cause I have no idea what they had planned.” You think for a minute and then turn back to the door and knock. Bucky lets go of your hand and you quickly grab it back giving him a wink. A slightly irritated Natasha opens the door, lipstick gone and smeared all over Steve’s face.

“What?” She asks and you push past her headed to your room. Bucky stands in the hallway watching and praying you come back.

You emerge with your purse that’s pretty big and Natasha knows that’s your “just in case I spend the night.” Purse. You wave goodbye as you grab your keys and close the door behind you. Turning to Bucky and pulling him in, you kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around one of his.

“Where to?” You ask.

**********************************************

Steve drove them there so you offer to drive wherever.

“Would it be too forward to invite you back to my place? I’d really like to show you my studio.” He asks so sweetly, you can tell he is nervous. You tease him a little

“Is that your line for all the girl?” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nope, I never bring girls back to my studio. But if love to have you there.” The double meaning is not Lost on you or Bucky. The blush giving you away, Bucky laughs and pulls you closer before kissing your forehead and taking your keys. “You okay if I drive us?”

“Sure, just promise not to murder me.” You joke as you climb in your car. Bucky sits and gets it started before he looks at you and shrugs.

“No promises, my art has been described as deadly good.” He winks and you laugh at his horrible joke. Soon you are pulling up to a little house with a detached garage.

“You know, it really does look like you’re about to kill me.” You tease but also look around and check the area.

“I know, it’s not the best house but it works and it’s clean. A good neighborhood and lots of space so Steve and I really try hard for our personalities to outshine the murder aesthetic our house gives off.” He takes your hand and walks you to the garage as you laugh. The garage lights up and on every wall is a shelf full of pottery projects. Some half done, some completely done.

“Wow! Bucky, these are amazing!” You exclaim as you look at the intricate detail on each piece. You turn to meet his gaze and he is leaning against his work table just watching you. Moving through the room with Grace and admiring his work, it’s really doing something to him. He hopes you feel the same way.

“So? How did you get into pottery?” You ask as you run your finger along one of the freshly finished pieces.

“I was in the army, when I got out I needed a hobby that I could turn my mind off and just work. Pottery gave me a place for that and it also gave me a place to rediscover my creativity.” Bucky explains. You turn and look at him, gentle as in your eyes.

“That’s why you said that comment about wounded warriors. You wanna support your fellow vets.” You hope your assumption is correct. Bucky nods and smiles, staying firmly where he is.

“Yeah, I nearly lost my arm before I got out. Others aren’t so lucky. So any way I can give back, I try to.” He picks up a piece of clay and start to mold it while talking, mindless work that helps settle his nerves and al the feelings he is having about you.

“That’s amazing.” You say simply, not wanting to push more.

“How did you get into Romance writing?” Bucky asks, a teasing smile across his face. You laugh and continue to walk around the room, looking at the pieces.

“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic,” you look up and meet his gaze. “So I guess I just write about the things I hope would happen to me.” You shrug, your explanation seems simple enough. Bucky is mesmerized by you, how such a beautiful and sweet woman would be single blows his mind. And so sincere too, none of that fake humility he sees in the women he meets who are as beautiful as you, with you, it’s all real and sweet. It’s refreshing.

“How long have you and Steve Been friends?” You ask, wanting to change the topic from yourself.

“Since childhood, he was always getting his ass beat behind the school and I was always there to step in and finish the fight he started.” You laugh and so does Bucky.

“So Steve was a bully?” You ask.

“No!” Bucky laughs. “Just a little punk who wanted to ‘stick up for the little guy’ but he was the little guy, so.” Bucky lightly laughs and you nod. “How about you and Natasha?”

“Since high school. Her family moved here and she was all ‘cool and steely’ that none of the other kids wanted to talk to her,” you laugh at the thought. “I made it my mission to become friends with her. By senior year we were going to go to the same college and we’re going to room together.”

“She seems like a pretty great friend.” Bucky comments, “And Steve adores her but I’m sure she already knows that cause Steve wears his heart on his sleeve.” Bucky teases and you laugh. For a moment it’s quiet, Bucky just watches you and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and a heat settle even lower. This man is so sweet and kind, not to mention incredibly hot. He is absolutely making you regret not wearing your sexy underwear tonight. You see some clay and the wheel sitting in the middle of the floor. You walk over and run a finger over the clay. Looking up and see Bucky’s eyes raking over your body, you feel invigorated. As sexily as you can, you sit on the stool and toss a look over at him.

“Teach me, please?” You demand and then ask. You see the moment Bucky melts and is all in. He smirks and walks over, pulling up a chair behind you and straddling your body. He places his hands on your and shows you where to plant your feet. He leans forward and whispers against your ear.

“This is a little too ‘Ghost’ for me.” He teases and you giggle as you turn and look at him. His eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. Clay forgotten, you spin in his arms and crash your lips to his. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer. You moan against his lips, desperate for more, but he pulls away. Breathless and blushing he asks. “I hope this isn’t too forward, would you like to stay the night?” You smirk and move back, away from his arms to grab your bag. Reaching your hand out for him to take again.

“Lead the way.” You coo. Bucky has you in his arms and pressed against his chest so quickly. His lips capture yours again and you giggle against them. Bucky lifts you into his arms and expertly makes his way into the house, never leaving your lips longer than a Quick Look at the doors to make sure they are locked.

Stumbling down the hallway, backs pressed against the walls as you both fight for dominance. Giggles and moans filling the air as you grope each others bodies, seeking flesh rather than clothing. When your back finally presses against Bucky’s door, he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. “This isn’t too fast, is it? You feel this too, right? This connection- this pull.” You bite your lip and nod as you place your hands firmly against his chest, the muscles beneath your fingers, firm and hard, drool worthy.

“Yeah, I feel it too.” You admit before kissing him again and moaning against his mouth. Bucky opens the door and kicks it closed with his boot. He walks you backwards to the bed and in utter abandon you allow yourself to fall, fall back, fall in, fall deep. Pulling back slightly, Bucky caresses your cheek and meets your gaze, your heartbeat quickens as he gently smiles and an exciting peace washes over you. You’ve never felt this safe, this fast. Slowing the pace, Bucky takes his time with you. Kissing down your neck and nipping lightly at your collarbone before his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt. Your hands slips under his shirt and your fingers draw line over his back as he moves above you. First to go his his shirt, tossed behind him and across the room. He sees your eyes trailing down his body and he gives you a moment to take it in. His chest is sculpted yet still soft under your touch, the tasteful amount of chest hair along his pec and sternum tickle your fingers as you memorize his body with your finger tips, and the trail of dark brown hair leading down from his bellybutton and disappearing below his waistband sends your mind into over drive. You lean up and kiss along his chest as he moans at the feeling of your tongue grazing along his nipples. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, tossing it with his. Leaning down and kissing the tops of your breast, he is in heaven. The straps slip down and before you know it you are uncoupling the back and tossing it off, needing as little clothing between the two of you as possible. Bucky reaches for his pants and has them shoved down and off as you remove yours. Standing above you in only black boxer briefs you see the outline of his cock, hard and aching against his boxers. Your mouth waters and yet you are slightly afraid because you can tell he is big. Bigger than any man you’ve been with. Bucky settles on the bed between your legs and slips his hands in the waistband of your panties, waiting for permission, you nod and he has them down you leg and scattered with the rest of the clothes. You sit up and kneel in front of where he kneels on the bed, pulling you closer by the small of your back, Bucky kisses you. You wrap your hands around his waist and slip one hand down his boxers, squeezing his ass before waiting for permission to pull them down. He nods, not wanting to release your lips. When nothing is left between your bodies you lay back in Bucky’s arms and he settles between your legs. Rolling his hips against yours and giving you both friction where you desperately need it. Your moan echos off the walls and he smiles, knowing he is the cause. Bucky kisses down your body and ends up laying between you legs as he licks and sucks on your clit, gently teasing your pussy with a fingertip before pushing all the way in and devoting himself to making you cum on his face. You hands play with his hair as his other hand palms your breast. It’s so fast and so good, you can’t help but moan his name as you cum, squirting on his tongue. “Bucky!! Oh-fffffuuuuc- yes!!” He smirks up at you which makes you cum again. He moans and hums against you as he brings you down. He kisses up your body and settles between you legs.

“I can grab a condom if you want.” Bucky says as he is already reaching into his bedside table to grab one.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year.” You explain. Bucky nods and takes a shuddering breath before he kisses you again.

“I’m clean too, and it’s been even longer for me.” He gives a weak little smile and you caress the side of his face before you gently kiss his lips.

“Never would have guessed with what that mouth just did to me.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood while letting him know he’s still got it. Bucky laughs and kisses you again as he lines himself up with you. Slowly pushing in and watching your face for pain as he bottoms out. “Mmhm ffffuc- yyyeeesss!” you moan at the stretch. Bucky kisses you again and slowly starts to move his hips, in and out, making sure to hit that spot inside of you over and over again. At first he is laying on top of you, your bodies moving together and against each other, it was sweet and sensual. Then Bucky sits up a little and you take that moment to flip him over, pinning him to the bed with a giant smile on his face. You ride him as you brace your hands against his pecs. His moans growing louder and louder as you get him close to the edge. You sit up and play with your breast and you snap your hips back and forth, ready to bring him over. But apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because suddenly you are on your back and your legs are over his shoulders as he drills into you while one hand plays with your clit. You gasp and moan as you writhe beneath him. “Oh! BUCKY?!?! Yesyesyes!!!”

“That’s it, Bunny. Come on, I’m not cumming till you have cum on my cock. Come on, baby girl.” That did it, his dirty talk and care. You melted beneath him as you cum, squirting again and feeling better than you’ve felt tin years. “That’s it Good girl,” Bucky coos as he chases his high. Pleasure washes over his face as he buries himself inside you, cumming hard and deep. “Mmhmm squeezing my cock so well,” he is in utter bliss and he lets your legs go and just lays down next to you, his softening cock still inside. He kisses your forehead and hums. “Good girl.” You beam up at him, the praise doing something new to you that it’s never done before. He kisses you before he pulls the covers up and over you body, still entangled and coming down from heaven.

“Mmhmm that was definitely the makings of a meet cute.” You admit and Bucky laughs as he kisses you again.

“Come on, let’s go ‘meet cute’ in the shower, huh?!” He pulls you up and into his arms you nod and he carry’s you away.

**********************************************

You stand at the door to you car, the sun rising beautifully and creating a glow around you two. “I wish you could stay longer but I understand why you have to go.” Bucky says as he kisses you again.

“My book won’t write itself and if I stay here I will end up participating in smut and not writing it, which is the chapter I am currently working on so.” You explain as Bucky lightly laughs before he smirks and kisses you.

“Well, feel free to use last night in bed as inspiration. Or the shower last night, or the midnight hand play we had, or ever the slow morning sex we just finished.” He beams as he retells the all the adventures you got up to last night. You blush and burry your head in his chest as he hugs you and laughs.

“I will call you tonight and see about dinner, okay?” He nods and you kiss him again. As you are about to get in your car, Steve’s car pulls in. He honks loudly and gets out cheering and clapping. Completely embarrassing Bucky and you, but you know it’s in good fun.

“Were you two safe?” He asks, adding more fuel to the embarrassment fire.

“Nope, not at all!” Bucky shoots back and you decide to tease too.

“Yeah, totally pregnant over here. It worked that fast! Get ready to move into the garage, Stevie, the baby is gonna need your room.” Bucky laughs and pulls you closer. He kisses you again and then sends you on your way. Bucky turns to Steve and you see them “fighting” as you drive away.

**********************************************

When you get home Natasha is dead to the world and you decide to leave her that way. You see a notification on your phone, it’s Bucky’s TikTok. Opening the app to see a new video.

“Hey guys! Sorry about no live last night.” He blushes, “I uh I met a really amazing Women and my night ended up going a little too well. And it may continue that way, so there may be a change in the live schedule as well as the posting schedule. She’s a writer and our ‘meet cute’ inspired quite a lot in her and I need to be available for any further inspiration.” He winks and then laughs. “But seriously, I’m still around, just maybe not every night anymore. Love you all!” And with that the video ends. You smirk and quickly send Bucky a text.

Message

Hey James, your new Women friend needs some inspiration 😏😉

Within seconds your phone is ringing, as you answer his voice is soothing and so low it’s almost like a purr. “Well, what did you have in mind, Bunny?”

Taglist: @georgiapeach30513 @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @cadencejames87 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @welp-heregoessomething

#bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #tiktok pottery Bucky Barnes

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lilasamaaa · 6 months ago

Text

Ignorance is bliss | Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3K.

Warnings | Brief mentions of sexual activities, panic attack, Max and reader get in a fight.

Summary | Max and you have been dating for several months, and everything is going well. Except when paparazzi start chasing you for no reason. Is your boyfriend hiding something from you?

Author's note | This was requested by @butterflyexe ! Thank you lovely for the great idea! I tweaked it a bit though, so I hope you like it! I loved writing this piece but again, sorry for the crippling angst lmao 🥲 Not proofread as usual, oopsie

The doorbell of your apartment rings, and you leap off your couch, opening the door and throwing yourself into your boyfriend's arms.

"Oh, wow," Max says, pressing a kiss to your head. "Did you know it was me or do you throw yourself into the arms of everyone who rings your doorbell?" he adds, laughing.

"Of course I knew it was you," you reply, laughing too. "I've been waiting for you all week. And I noted that your flight was landing an hour ago, so it lined up," you explain, taking his hand and leading him to the couch, where you both sit down.

Max looks tired, the bags under his eyes casting blue and gray shades on his pale skin. He moves to lie down on the couch, resting his head on your thighs, closing his eyes.

"How was the work trip?" you ask, playing with his hair.

"It was great," he finally replies, opening his eyes and meeting yours. "Quite tiring, but interesting. It was nice to, erm. See my colleagues again," he says.

"I still can't believe your company paid for the trip all the way to Australia," you whisper as Max closes his eyes again under your caresses. "If I had known the automotive industry required you to travel that much, I would have applied for the job."

Max doesn't respond, simply taking one of your hand in his and gently stroking your knee with the other.

"You must feel so out of it with the jet lag..." you continue, concerned. "It's a good thing they gave you a few days to rest. When are you expected back at work?"

"Not until next week," Max says, playing with the rings on your fingers.

"And you said you're going to Japan after? That's such a weird ass schedule," you say, making him laugh. "I feel like you travel more than most influencers... Or even athletes," you state, making him open an eye.

"Perks of the job," Max says before planting a soft kiss on your lips, and standing up. "Can I borrow your shower?"

"Of course! You know the way," you wink at him, heading towards the kitchen. "I'll fix us something to eat in the meantime."

Sitting at the small table in your kitchen, illuminated by a few candles and the lights of the city outside, Max devours the plate you placed in front of him a few minutes ago. You silently observe him, both fascinated by the man before you and disturbed by a thought that has plagued you in his absence.

"I've been thinking," you start, making your boyfriend look up.

"Yeah? Tell me," he says, covering your hand with his.

"How come I've never been to your place?"

Max stops chewing, his light eyes fixated on yours.

"I didn't know you wanted to?" he replies, brows furrowed.

"Well I've never asked to, but isn't that how it usually works in a relationship? Once at mine, once at yours?"

"I'm sorry," Max replies. "I didn't realize it was important to you."

You suddenly feel guilty and squeeze your boyfriend's hand, giving him a warm smile.

"Forget it, sorry," you say, getting up to rinse your plate. "That was stupid. You're right, we're fine here."

After dinner, you and Max settle on the couch again, watching some show on Netflix. When you notice Max fighting against sleep, his eyelids heavy and his breath short, you grab the remote before turning off the TV. The sudden silence jolts him awake, and you laugh before pulling him by the arm and leading him down to your bedroom. You make a quick stop in the bathroom to remove your makeup and brush your teeth and, when you come back to the room, you find Max fast asleep under the covers. The sight is endearing. You press a kiss on his forehead before settling next to him, your cold body against his already warm one.

The next morning, you wake up alone in a cold bed. A familiar smell tickles your nostrils, and you make your way to the kitchen, your eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning!" Max says, already dressed up, and looking much fresher than yesterday. "I made us breakfast."

"Wow, that's so sweet of you," you say before sitting at the table, taking a hot pancake from the plate in front of you.

"I'm sorry for falling asleep so fast yesterday," your boyfriend starts again. "To make it up to you, I'd like to take you out to lunch."

The offer takes you by surprise, and you stare at your boyfriend, mouth agape. It's been five months since you started seeing each other. Five months since you bumped into him by chance at the Monte Carlo casino while you were out dining with friends. Five months of being inseparable, but also five months of very limited outings. Max travels a lot for work, and you don't necessarily have the means to go out regularly in Monaco. Most of the moments you share therefore take place within the four walls of your apartment, and you're thrilled to get some fresh air with him for once.

"You seem happy," he says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"I am!" you say, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Where are we going?"

"What about Nobu?" Max says.

"What? Max, that's way too expensive," you reply, furrowing your brows.

"It doesn't really matter, given I'll be the one paying."

"No way," you say. "We're splitting the bill. And I'm not paying three grands for some sushis, as delicious as everyone claim they are."

"They really are. So please, let me do this for you. Just this once? I can afford it," your boyfriend says, making you frown.

His words remind you that you don't know what your boyfriend does for a living. He's talked to you about cars, mechanics, but you're having trouble understanding what kind of job in the automotive industry requires so much traveling around the world. A job that apparently pays very well, given the restaurants he frequents. Realizing there's no point in arguing and not wanting to pick a fight with Max, you simply nod, lips pressed together. However, you're counting on one last point to escape the pricey restaurant and hopefully eat elsewhere. Somewhere more affordable.

"Well, if you insist," you finally say, popping a strawberry in your mouth. "I doubt we'll get a table for noon, though," you add. "I heard you have to book months in advance."

"Don't worry about that," Max says, stroking your cheek. "I need to stop by my place real quick before, can we meet there?"

Two hours later, you're sitting at one of the finest tables at Nobu, facing the sea. The fuck just happened, you think, watching your boyfriend immersed in the menu with a raised eyebrow. How? Before you have time to question it further, a waiter brings two champagne flutes and a bottle in a Nobu-stamped ice bucket to your table before hurrying away, thanking you two profusely for coming.

"Did you order this?" you ask Max, making him look up.

"No, I didn't. That's so kind of them."

"What the actual fuck, Max?" you snap, eyes wide. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" your boyfriend asks.

"Did you somehow not notice how everyone's been bending over backward for us since we walked in? I think the waitress behind you hasn't taken her eyes off us for the past thirty minutes. And since when do they bring champagne to people who haven't ordered anything?" you say with a worried look. "Are they confusing us for someone?"

"Why are you so worried?" Max asks, giving you a look that's meant to be reassuring but just looks uncomfortable. "Just enjoy the moment. And the view."

You sit back in your chair, biting the inside of your cheek. Something isn't right. You can feel it. Max adjusts one of his hair strands, and the sleeve of his shirt slips down slightly, revealing a watch you've never seen before. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the model, and when you do, your heart skips a beat.

"Is this a new watch?" you ask, trying to act nonchalant.

"What? Oh, yeah. Bought it in Melbourne."

"You casually bought a Rolex Daytona?" you ask, tilting your head.

"I didn't know you knew about watches," Max says, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

"You don't need to know about watches to know that this model costs almost a hundred thousand euros," you say, eyes boring into his.

The tension at the table has risen a notch, none of you uttering a word. As an anxious waiter places several plates in front of you, you glance around, suddenly realizing something you hadn't noticed before, absorbed in your conversation with your boyfriend.

"There's no one here," you say, still looking around. "It's noon on a Saturday, and the restaurant is empty."

Max sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he finally says, carefully meeting your gaze. "I wanted us to have some peace."

"What? What did you do?"

"I've privatized the restaurant," he says.

"How did you do that?" you ask, unintentionally raising your voice.

"I paid," Max simply says, grabbing a sushi.

"How much?"

"Several thousands!" Max almost shouts, making you wince. "What's up with all your questions?"

You're completely lost. You don't recognize the man you've been seeing for the past five months. The man who comes to your place by foot, usually in sweatpants, who spends evenings watching Netflix with you. Taking baths with you. Passionately making love to you. You have no idea who this new man is, covered in expensive clothes and accessories, on whom all heads turn and who raises whispers as he passes by.

"Who the fuck are you?" you simply ask, feeling your eyes start to water.

"Baby," Max says, finally realizing how uncomfortable and lost you are. "Please, can we just enjoy the meal? I'll answer all your questions at your place. I'll explain everything, but please. Let's not make a scene," he implores.

You swallow hard, staring at the ceiling to dry the tears in the corners of your eyes. For the rest of the meal, Max talks, telling you about his trip, about his life. You politely answer the few questions your boyfriend asks you, remaining silent the rest of the time. You don't even have an appetite anymore, having swallowed three sushi pieces before your stomach threatened to turn.

At the end of the meal, Max slips a credit card into the folder that a waiter has placed on the table, then adds three hundred-dollar bills. Tip, you think. More than what I earn in a day of work. The price of discretion, probably. The waiter leaves with the folder before coming back, and just as he's about to ask for something, Max shots him a look that makes him close his mouth. Your boyfriend thanks the young man before walking around the table, extending a hand that you grasp to rise as well. You thank the still-empty restaurant staff, giving them a genuine smile despite the anxiety twisting your stomach. Max opens the door for you, and you walk out on the street, thanking him.

For a moment, you curse yourself for forgetting your sunglasses at home, as the Monaco sun blinds you instantly. You blink in surprise, but your blindness persists as Max grabs your wrist and pushes you behind him. You try to open your eyes, but flashes keep assaulting you, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that they're coming from huge cameras pointed just inches away from your face.

"Max?"' you ask with a high-pitched voice, starting to panic.

Max turns around, pressing you against him and covering your eyes as he guides you through the screaming crowd. People push you in all directions, pressing against you, touching your arms, your face, crumpling your clothes. Screaming. At first, you can't make sense of what the voices are shouting, with all your senses being overwhelmed. But suddenly, you hear it. Max. They're screaming his name. Max looks up, and a new series of flashes burn your retinas as your boyfriend holds you even tighter against him, one arm around your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," you hear him say among the voices.

"What's happening?" you ask, panting.

And, then, you feel it. The panic attack. Even though you've never experienced one before, you immediately understand what's happening to you. You recognize the signs. Your legs give way, and you have to cling to Max to keep from falling to your knees. Your heart rate and breath quicken until they're suffocating, while tears stream down your cheeks.

"I can't breathe," you croak, so weakly that you're not even sure if Max heard you.

"Hang on, baby," your boyfriend says, still walking. "We're almost at the car."

The flashes continue, and so do your tears. Max grips you as tightly as he can, shielding your face, lifting you halfway to help you walk. After a few seconds, the longest of your life, you hear a car door open, and Max gently pushes you into his car before closing the door and jumping in. He wastes no time in starting the engine, cutting through the crowd, disappearing into the alleys of Monaco.

You don't say a word. You're unable to speak. Unable to breathe. Still trembling. Crying. You don't realize it, but Max struggles to tear his eyes away from your body, which seems so small, so battered at this moment. He doesn't speak either, biting his lips until it draws blood. He hates himself. He knows he'll regret making you go through this for a long time. But now, all he can do is explain. Lay all the cards on the table. Something he should have done a long time ago.

The journey seems to last an eternity until you catch sight of a gigantic building, and Max drives into an underground parking. He parks the car and rushes out, opening your door, helping you out. You're still in shock, and Max supports you as he guides you to an elevator. A few seconds later, after twist of his keys, you find yourself in a vast penthouse overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. You don't even have the strength to ask questions anymore. To ask where you are. You sit down on the large couch, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Trying to calm your breathing.

Max watches you, standing at the foot of the couch. Bewildered. Not even daring to come close to you. The two of you stand in silence a few moments, until he finally speaks.

"I know it won't fix anything. But I'm truly, sincerely sorry."

You don't reply, head low. playing with the rings on your finger.

"I owe you some explanations."

No reply.

"I'm a Formula 1 driver."

You finally look up, and the mascara streaks on your cheeks squeeze his heart in the worst way.

"I should have told you earlier. I should have warned you, but I couldn't. With you, I discovered normalcy. Anonymity. I discovered what it was live to have an ordinary life, away from the hustle, the stress, the constant judgment."

"So you knew how precious it was," you say, squinting your eyes. "And yet, you chose to expose me to all of those things."

"I hadn't planned for it to happen. I didn't want it to happen. I tried."

"I can't do this," you reply, feeling fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

Seeing you cry again, Max sits on the couch, pulling you close to him as another sob shakes your body.

"Why?" you ask, crying. "Why did you let me fall in love with the person I thought you were?"

Each of your words, each of your sobs break his heart a little more, but he takes it. He knows your anger is justified. Deserved.

"Because I loved you too. And I didn't want this to stop."

"You lied to me," you say between two sobs. "I trusted you. I trusted you so much."

It's too much. Even for him. A tear runs down his cheek. Max wipes it away angrily.

"If you never want to see me again, I understand. I'll come get my things. I'll erase your number. I won't stand in the way of you living a normal life, of finding love with someone normal. You deserve the best, even if it's not with me."

You hate him.

You despise him for having been himself, his most vulnerable self, with you. For charming you with his awkwardness, his foreign accent, his somewhat strict manners. You hate him for being the perfect man for you. You hate him for making your heart beat so strongly. But above all, you hate him for building your love on a lie, on fragile foundations doomed to collapse and sweep you both away in the wreckage.

"I hate you," you sob, making his heart stop. "And I hate myself even more. For not being able to let you go."

"Baby", he says, moving to kneel in front of you. "If you give me this chance, a chance to rebuild everything with you again, I swear that nothing will ever happen to you again. I won't let anyone near you, anyone touch you. Not even a glance. I will rebuild everything around us. We'll be untouchable. Indestructible."

One month later.

"Are you ready, baby?" Max asks, meeting your gaze. "Once I post it, there's no going back."

"I think so," you say, biting on your fingernails. "Let's get this over with," you add, sitting on his knees while the driver presses a kiss to your neck, softly stroking your leg.

"Okay. Let's do this."

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x female reader #mv1 #mv1 x you #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 x you #mv33 x reader #lilasamaaa #slowly working my way up all the requests lmao

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