#and you can just make a fucking custom signature brush with it

[foervraengd]

you know its fun (and furstrating) to see ppl finally accept that the inly actual useful way to “protect” your art online is the stuff i have done and recommended over and over; dont post hi-res. include both a visible and hidden watermark. But nooooo yall gave me 100000 reasons to why you dont wanna add even a signature on your works until now. I told ya to watermark your art. “its not gonna stop thieves :(“ WATERMARKING ISNT ABOUT THEFT ITS ABOUT LETTING PPL KNOW WHO TF MADE THIS RANDOM ARTWORK THEY FOUND IN SOME OBSCURE FORUM.

you should watermark your art even before we had to deal with ai scraping. No excuses. If you want ppl to find you via your art, you add your fucking signature (a READABLE signature). People will not know you from just your art style alone.

[beforeimdeceased]

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Chapter 4: Step 4: Almost Kiss And Gay Panic

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-worked. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came it Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

This fic is actually just me writing about gay panic for Larissa Weems. Anyway enjoy more tension and useless gays 🦐❤️

Also lmk if you want me to tag you in updates.

Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay

Chapter 3

Cross Posted on AO3 here

HTWAHP Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------

“You work too much.” You hummed.

“Good morning to you too darling,” Larissa mumbles, typing away at her laptop.

You snort, rounding her desk to stand beside her and putting her coffee next to her. She thanks you, picking it up and sipping it, still typing away.

You watch her for a moment, admiring the way her nose scrunches when she reads something she’s not happy with. You also never tire of seeing her wearing her glasses, she just looks so cute.

“I think you should take a break. What are you working on anyway?” You ask leaning over her shoulder to get a look at her screen.

“It’s just final preparations for the Poe Cup. Checking team rosters and such…” she trails off, furrowing her brows as she continues.

“Isn’t there someone else who can do this? When was the last time you did something fun?”

“Work is fun…sometimes” she mumbles.

“Please Rissa, let me take you to lunch or something. Please.”

“What did you just call me?” She asks, finally looking away from her laptop and up at you.

You really hadn’t meant to let that one slip, that was a nickname you had used in your head and was meant to stay there. You feel your face heat up as you open and close your mouth. Your blush worsens when you notice she’s smirking, the smug little-

“Hmm, darling? Don’t make me ask again.”

Jesus fucking Christ how are you supposed to breathe after that? You shift uncomfortably and do your best to ignore the heat building between your legs. You find yourself looking everywhere but at her, nervously fiddling with your fingers. You go to speak when all of a sudden she stands and grabs your chin between her fingers, turning you to face her.

And oh god you never get to look at her so closely. You’re sure she can feel how your heart is racing. But god she is so beautiful. And her eyes are so very blue, so deep and mesmerizing. You could spend hours just staring into her eyes. Her lips look so damn kissable, in her signature red. You could lean in just a little closer and your lips would meet. 

And she’s still smirking, it’s a little infuriating and a lot attractive. You feel her thumb brush over your bottom lip. You instinctively part your lips at the contact and you swear you hear her suck in a breath. She glances down to your lips, then back to your eyes. You can’t tell which of you is leaning in, you think it may be both of you. You close your eyes. You can feel her breath on your lips. You-

“Principal Weems! I’d like to talk to you about my team lineup for the Poe Cup?” Enid interrupts, knocking on the door.

And just like that Larissa is on the other side of her desk, far away from you, looking composed and put together as she dusts off her blazer.

You, on the other hand, feel the opposite of composed. You know you must look rather funny, standing at Larissa’s desk, blushing like an idiot and staring at where Larissa was standing just a moment ago with wide eyes.

You really can’t blame Enid for interrupting but right now you are groaning and pouting internally.

Larissa opens the door for Enid, who’s beaming ear to ear. She launches into some story and you don’t take in much besides the words “Wednesday” and “co-pilot” and “Isn’t that so cool?” 

She suddenly stops, noticing you. She looks between you and Larissa a few times before speaking again.

“I’m sorry did I…interrupt something?”

“No!” You and Larissa both say at the same time.

You look at each other and notice she’s blushing as she looks away, clearing her throat.

“Nevermind, you were saying Miss Addams will be joining your team for the Poe Cup?” Larissa says.

“Oh! Right yes! Isn’t it great?” Enid starts up again, explaining how Wednesday had asked her to join the team.

You take this time to admire Larissa again (you do that a lot it seems, you goddamn gaylord). You can tell she cares for her students when you see her with them. She always seems so focused on them and like she’s listening intently to whatever they say. And the small, motherly smile that lights up her face when they tell her about things makes your heart melt.

“You’ll be coming too right?” Enid asks you, breaking you from your gay thoughts.

“Hm? Oh I- I wouldn’t want to impose-“

“Can she come Principal Weems? She’s like, the only normie in Jericho that’s nice to us.” She begs.

“Miss Sinclair I’m sure our guest has better things to do than-“

“I would love to come to watch…if it’s not a problem for you that is.” You interrupt.

“Oh, you- well I mean we would love to have you of course.”

“I mean I wouldn’t want to impose-“

“You could never impose darling.”

Throughout this interaction, you and Larissa had almost forgotten Enid was there. That was until she giggled at the two of you, causing you both to face her questioningly.

“You two are like so cute.” She says, grinning.

Larissa clears her throat at that, blushing again. “Yes well, I will add Miss Addams to your team roster and look forward to seeing you compete.”

“Thanks Principal Weems! You’re the best!” Enid smiles, waving as she exits the office.

The two of you stand there for all of ten seconds before you burst into laughter. Larissa turns to look at you, bewildered at first but then she smiles fondly at you.

“That girl is such a gem, I think she may be my favourite. Don’t tell Wednesday that.” You wheeze out.

“I’m sure she’d be devastated.” She snorts.

“I happen to think she likes me thank you very much.” You joke, earning a chuckle from the white-haired goddess.

“So I’ll see you at the Poe cup then?”

“You’re here so often we might as well hire you as staff.”

“Maybe,” you hum, walking toward the door. You turn before leaving and smile at her. “But I don’t want any money for spending time with you. Besides, the Weather Vane wouldn’t survive without my sparkling personality.”

You blow her a kiss as you go, smiling like an idiot. You don’t notice her pause at your words, nor the way her bottom lip trembles a bit.

______________________________

You really needed to stop agreeing to things with no idea of what they were just because it meant spending time with Larissa. To be fair the first time had worked out pretty well, besides the potential kid dying in the woods (turns out he’d been fine, but left the academy soon after, you didn’t ask why).

But here you were, standing by the lake in Nevermore Academy (you didn’t even know they had a lake) listening to Larissa explain how the Poe Cup actually worked.

If you were honest, the whole thing sounded like a violent and dangerous version of Capture the Flag. You thought about bringing this up to Larissa but she looked so excited you didn’t have the heart to question the safety of the event (plus you were sure Larissa would never let anything bad happen to the kids).

You really had never seen Larissa so excited before. She was almost like a kid on Christmas morning. It was fucking adorable and you were resisting the urge to fawn all over her. She was talking with her hands a lot, using grand gestures while she told you about her days at the academy and the Poe Cup she had won(with someone named Morticia whose name seemed to stir up much annoyance and frustration in Larissa).

When she went to start the festivities you couldn’t help but stare at her. Standing up on the temporary platform in her far too fashionable for such an event outfit and hair done to perfection. She really was an ethereal goddess among men.

You’re startled out of your reverie when a redhead comes up to you. She’s obviously one of the teachers, wearing a pair of red boots and sporting a friendly smile.

“Hi! I’m guessing you’re the Outcast Friendly Barista Enid’s been talking about?” She asked.

“Oh uh yeah! That would be me, it’s nice to meet you miss…?”

“Oh! Right, how silly of me. I’m Marylin Thornhill, you can call me Marylin. It’s so lovely you could join us today.”

“Well, Enid did break out the puppy dog eyes. I couldn’t exactly say no to that. I was worried she may actually cry if I did.” You joke.

She laughs at that, placing a hand on your arm.

“She is delightful, isn’t she? It’s so nice to see a fellow normie supporting these kids. It’s not very common here.”

“That’s so weird to me. I mean they’re just like regular kids mostly. I would’ve killed to be able to like  turn into a werewolf or something cool like that when I was younger. It would’ve beat the fainting and blackouts I got by a mile.”

“Yes, well, if only other normie’s were as open-minded as you.” She smiled. “Well, I better go check on the students. It was lovely meeting you!”

You watched as she made her way over to one of the tents. As she arrived you noticed none other than Wednesday Addams appearing, wearing what you could only describe as a cat suit (complete with ears). She made eye contact with you, and Jesus Christ you tried so hard not to grin. You were obviously unsuccessful judging by the harsh glare she sent your way. You laughed at that sending her a thumbs up before she was dragged away to the canoes by Enid (also sporting a cat suit though hers had pink in it. Very on brand.)

You watch as Larissa raises a gun into the air, and for fucks sake how does this woman make that look good. As soon as the cup begins the teams speed off across the lake. Larissa waves you over and you come to stand next to her.

“I saw you spoke with Marylin earlier.” She hums, watching the teams.

You think you could be imagining it but you sense a bit of almost frustration in her words.

“Yeah, she seems really sweet. I didn’t know Nevermore has normie teachers.”

“Just her. I thought it might help build better relationships with other normies but well” she sighs, “nothing I do seems to be helping.”

“Hey,” you start grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Things like this take time, and you’re doing your best. You’re the best principal this school could ask for, Rissa. Plus, let’s enjoy today and worry about all that shit tomorrow yeah?”

She chuckles at that, glancing from you back to the lake.

“I suppose you’re right,” she hums, squeezing your hand.

“I usually am. It’s a talent.”

She snorts at that and the two of you go back to watching the cup. You stand so close your arms are touching, and neither of you lets go of the other’s hand. So you stand there, hand in hand, grinning like teenagers in love.

[makarovni]

WIP Wednesday PART TWO

Ok I lied when I posted my first WIP tagged by @adelaidedrubman (thank you again!!). I'm gonna share part of Got You Where I Want You chapter 2 because I can. I feel bad posting something for Kent/Nonia and not Reese/Nonia. Well...here ya go.

While Luisa was out dealing with the credit card lady, Nonia flipped on the TV and put it on Speed network. By now, they'd gotten tired of covering last night's race, and were making predictions for the next one. Nonia watched in boredom, but was shaken from it when she heard an especially loud motor outside.

Then the door opened, with its little ding sound. The customer walked in.

It was Reese.

Nonia nearly choked on her own spit, having to slam a hand against the counter to control herself. Reese smiled at her, tilting his head to get a better look.

"You okay, darlin'?" He asked. 

This immediately set her on fire. Nonia nodded and swallowed hard, giving a thumbs up and a smile. 

"I am doing great! Shit, Reese, it's nice to see you again," she said, so infatuated she could easily have cartoon hearts swirling over her head. 

Reese nodded in agreement. "It's nice to see you too, Nonia. Sorry I haven't been around, I would've come back, but I was actually at Talladega."

Her eyes widened and mouth dropped open. "Holy shit! You're so lucky! That was a fucking crazy race, wasn't it?"

"Yep, it sure was," he laughed. "Got the chance to make up with my son, too. Went out with the family to Applebee's after the race, but I didn't get kicked out this time 'round."

"Good for you," Nonia giggled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "So you're already back from Alabama? Must've left super early."

"I actually drove up and stayed in Atlanta last night, then drove up from there this mornin'," Reese explained. "Soon as I got back, I wanted to come see you. I, uh…actually got you somethin' from 'Dega."

Her heart began beating a million beats per minute. He got her a gift? He wanted to see her as soon as he got back? There was no way this was real. She wanted to punch herself in the face to check if it was a dream.

Reese fished in his pocket and pulled out a small object– a little die-cast car emblazoned with the number '02 and "Talladega Superspeedway." It was still in the box, and scribbled on the top of that box was a signature from Ricky Bobby.

"Holy fuck," Nonia gasped, holding the toy car gently in both hands, admiring it. She just acquired a new prized possession. "Reese, thank you so, so much!! This is such a sweet gift, I'm…I don't even know what to say."

Tell him you love him, her inner voice said, but Nonia knew not to go that far. Instead she placed the gift on the counter and stared at it in admiration, then flicked her eyes up to Reese. They were certainly full of hearts and stars and glittering with enchantment. She had her elbow on the counter and face resting in her hand, and she could feel the heat coming from her cheeks.

"You don't have to say anything, darlin'," he replied with a grin, knowing how happy this made her. "I also wanted to ask you somethin'."

Nonia nodded, her chin still resting in her hand, that infatuated smile still on her lips. "Ask me anything, Reese."

For just a second, Reese seemed to become…shy? He reached behind his head and scratched his hair, eyes avoiding hers, then finally meeting them. 

"I was, uh…wonderin' if you'd want to go out later. When your shift is over. We can go grab somethin' to eat, go for another drive, get drinks…whatever you wanna do. If you want to, that is."

Now both of them were blushing. Nonia nodded furiously, her long hair going flying. "Of course!! Oh my God, yes!! All of that and whatever you wanna do!! Yes!!"

"Good," Reese said with a smile, seemingly relieved. "Alright, what time you get off work?"

"Let's see…it's 5:32…I get off at 7:00. Mind picking me up just a few minutes early?"

He chuckled. "You really that anxious to go out with me? 'Course I'll pick you up early."

Nonia couldn't stop smiling. "Okay, cool!! I can't wait!!"

"Me neither," Reese replied, heading for the door. "Alright, see ya at 7:00, darlin'."

"S-see ya!!" Nonia called after him as he exited. She heard the powerful engine of his Chevelle start, and sighed contentedly as it drove off. 

[binniedeactivated]

whorehouse. || 💦

➥ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➥ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬! 𝐚𝐮, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

➥ 𝐖/𝐂 |  4k

➥ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | 𝐧𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

➥ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱! , 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥!𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲.

multi-fandom ask requested by @light164star​ hope you enjoy this my love!

in any normal university a fraternity represents ambition, passion, and integrity amongst brotherhood. but things were different in your university.

the Sigma Chi (ΣΧ)’s were different. they stayed in this big gorgeous frat house across campus, they threw the best parties and had the best of everything. they had the best selection of everything on campus, even down to the best dining hall. they were very selective to who they admitted. well, judging by the guys you saw leave that building it seemed as if they only accepted the best of the best. the best looking guys, best athletes, the academic powerhouses, the all rounders. every guy on campus wished they were one of them and every girl wished they could be with one of them. but the Sigma Chi’s never dated anyone. that was their number one rule.

and lastly, the sigma chi was rich. not because it was full of a bunch of guys who were spoiled rotten by their parents. not because the university provided them with full ride scholarships. but because the sigma chi house wasn’t what everyone thought it was. of  course it was a house of brotherhood, but they had subscribers all across campus. including you. and the university officials had yet to know that. not that anyone would snitch anyway, they practically had everyone wrapped around their fingers. they even managed to wane off some of the security guards and professors from scoping out their territory, giving them hush money for their loyalty.

i know what you’re thinking. no -- the sigma chi’s aren’t a mafia. despite their ways they’re actually far from a mafia. they were a fraternity. they were a business. and one thing for certain, two things for sure, don’t you ever meddle in the business of the sigma chi’s. no one has ever came back from that little mistake. as far as you were concerned the victims were basically wiped off the face of the earth, complete lost of contact, even their social media accounts deleted and deactivated. no one knew what the sigma chi’s did to them but no one wanted to find out either.

anyway, you held your head low while walking towards the steps of the house. not everyone on campus knew about their little secret but that still didn’t keep you from being embarrassed about yours. you were a happy subscriber and you weren’t going to deny that. sometimes you wondered how your application even got accepted. but it did. you went into the little convenience store they held in the building, waiting for kim seungmin/kang taehyun/ ju haknyeon, either one of them were required to check you in. they worked at the house convenience store but little did anyone know the trio were the brains behind the whorehouse. they didn’t handle much subscribers themselves, but faithfully took care of admissions and payments. oh, and also check in’s. no one could get service or even have access to the whorehouse without going through them first.

the motion detector chimed indicating that they had a customer. you bit your lips looking around a bit, hoping no one walked in right after you. hoping they would think you’re just there to purchase snacks or something. with his sleeves rolled up from handling the store’s stock--coming from the back was kim seungmin. he approaches the back of the counter and does a little head tilt, indicating that you needed to show your identification. you reached your fingers into your wallet and plucked up your student identification card, sliding it on the counter. he reaches for it and opens an app on his smartphone, making sure you were a paying subscriber. lord knows they had enough people behind on payments yet still trying to receive service. even though you knew you were up to date on your payments you still gulped. seungmin never really showed much of any facial expression which scared you. just a sullen, hard expression that made everyone around him think he hated them. 

“you’re all set. sign this slip”.

he grabbed the small notepad full of paper slips he’d printed and specially designed himself, writing the date and his signature signifying that he approved your service. it was your job to sign the bottom line though confirming your consent to anything included in your service. you swiftly grabbed a pen and scribbled your signature.

“room 502. make sure you give them that or else you’ll have to leave”.

you nod and place the slip in your pocket, taking the elevator to the floor. you admit you were nervous as hell, this is how you were each visit. when you’re a subscriber you don’t know what type of service you can get. you’re just assigned to a random room and you’re promised a good orgasm-- several even--- by the time you leave. the way university was stressing you out these days that’s all you needed. your feet finally approach the door and you knock hesitantly. the door opens a bit, just enough to show his face and they grey and black silk robe he was wearing. it was choi yeonjun. fuck. you were scheduled with choi yeonjun today. there was no doubt in your mind that you’ll be fucking ruined.

“slip?”.

you fished it out of your pocket and showed him. he took it and nodded before crumbling it and tossing it in the nearby trash can. he opened the door further, you could see the dark room only illuminated by the deep red lights that lined the perimeter of the room. your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach at the sight of handcuffs, a pack of gummy worms and a vibrator sitting on the edge of the bed.

“come in”.

you nervously slipped through the crack of the door while he shuts it behind you. the room smelled like cherries, it always did for some reason. you stood there and swallowed. you could hear yeonjun faintly chuckling behind you, his hand brushing along your waist.

“you scared baby?”.

“y-yes”. you stammer. he kisses your cheek.

“you should be. take those panties off and get on all fours for me”.

“okay”. you stuttered once more doing as you were told. you came here enough to know that clothes always went on the clothing rack beside the door. fully naked you hesitantly crawl on the bed and remain on all fours just as instructed. you could hear the clashing metal of the handcuffs behind you as yeonjun undoes them and hooks them around both of your wrists and around the headboard. the cold metal ring clung painfully tight around your wrists and you gasp a little at how rough he was.  your back was now arched in the perfect bow and anything he wanted to do he could do it, your body was at his full disposal. you could feel his hand slide down your midsection and your breathing hitched. he removes it and lowers himself to the level of your face just to glare into your eyes. you stared into the abyss of his eyes in fear. he takes two fingers and rub them together, smearing the wetness he collected from you before slipping them in his mouth. he then slides it out.

“you’re not wet enough”.

and on that note he shifts to another side of the room and you heard the familiar sound of goo melt into the palm of his hand. you wince at how cold it was when he coated you with it, getting a good rub on your clit before slipping his fingers inside of you just to coat you that way. a subtle moan left your lips when he did so, unbeknownst to you that yeonjun had other plans when it came to your needy noises.

“none of that today,”. he says in response before picking up a pack of long heavy gummy worms. “that’s what these are for”. he ripped the pack open and grabbed a handful just to go over and shove between your lips. “I don’t want to hear any sounds from you today, you understand?”. you nod with the gummy treats in between your teeth. they were so thick you didn’t know how anyone could ever chew through them.

the buzzing noise of the vibrator rang behind you and your feet immediately grew cold. you couldn’t back out now. you paid for this. this is what you subscribed for. you had to take it.

yeonjun clutches your thighs and slides himself beneath you, face to face with your pussy that was practically begging for him at this point. you felt the smooth, thick grey vibrator slip past your slippery folds pushed deep inside you. in an instant you no longer knew how you were going to keep your legs in place this whole time. you started breathing hard gnawing on the gummies as hard as you possibly could. “shaking already baby? you’re going to have a hard time today”.

he steadily holds the toy, sinking it between your folds and pulling it back out slowly relishing the way your wetness coated it. moans awaited in your throat yet you forced them back down. yeonjun loved the way your pussy looked from this angle but most importantly he loved the way your clit looked. plump and glistening with lube. he softly hums and slides his tongue against it. you gasp but this time refusing to exhale.

“mmm”. he hums again and gives it another cat lick before pushing his face closer and coddling it between his lips. you decided to breathe, as shaky as it sounded at least you weren’t making any noises. but fuck you wanted to. the way he was twisting and moving the toy inside you, the way his wet tongue felt curling against your clit, you wanted to collapse. and he knew it.

he groans after pulling away from your folds with a thin spit string to follow but he couldn’t keep himself from going in for more. he ate you like a hungry tiger, each taste of you is like heaven in the coil of his tongue.  that’s what killed you the most. that’s what made your legs tremor the most. yeonjun didn’t eat pussy as if he wanted to eat pussy. he ate pussy as if he needed to eat it. and that made all the difference.

every lick sent electricity straight to his groin. the fact that you were shaking above him unable to do anything but breathe heavy and take whatever he was giving you turned him on. he thought your little lips were so soft, pretty and scrumptious. he slid his tongue around every crease and fold refusing to neglect a sector. he always had an unquenchable desire to please. your insides burned with agony. he told you that you weren’t allowed to make noise yet he ate you like this? you couldn’t take it. your breathing was already heavy and your legs were already on the verge of collapsing so if he didn’t stop within the next 5 seconds you’d be a moaning mess through the gummies in your mouth.

he fucks you with the toy a bit faster,  twisting it inside you while he flat tongued your clit prior to sucking it gently; hallowing his cheeks in the process. your eyes close and the jolts of pleasure made your tummy cave in. your heart rate soars and now your wrists were writhing desperately inside the cuffs. it felt so fucking good. god, it felt so good. your torso was on fire. his fingers dug into your innermost thigh while his tongue further explored you. he licks a particular spot that you weren’t quite fond of anyone licking, sending a bone shuddering moan through the air.

“ ffuckk! please!”.

yeonjun halts his movements at the sound of it. you mentally cursed at yourself. how could you be so stupid?

“what was that?”.

you swallowed. you agreed to keep silent. that was a bad choice. he slipped himself from underneath you and approached your face, grabbing your jaw roughly forcing his attention on him.  “answer me when I’m speaking to you”.

lord knows you wanted to. but he looked so incredibly scary like this your jaw trembled at the thought of even replying. he lets go of you forcing your head to drop back down in between your shoulders. “you don’t want to fucking listen right?”. you heard a barely audible chuckle but you knew he wasn’t chuckling because anything was humorous. “I got something for you”.

the sound of that made your heart drop. you didn’t know what the hell that meant. your mind couldn’t even grasp what it could possibly mean. all you knew was that you were handcuffed to this bed in this dark red room, your body in the position of complete freewill. after a couple of minutes more of drowning in the fear of your own thoughts the door behind you open and close. you heard not one set-- but other sets footsteps creak the floor. your eyes grew as wide as moons. little did you know though, this was all apart of their plan. yeonjun knew you wouldn’t be able to take what he was doing to you.

“since you don’t know how to shut up, I brought some friends who won’t mind doing it for you”.

squatting to your eye level was lee juyeon, another one of sigma chi’s most honorable members. he does this sly smirk before rubbing your cheek with his hand. “how you doing precious?”. your heart began to pound dangerously fast. sliding his hand through your hair was hwang hyunjin, on the other side of your face wearing the same smirk as juyeon. “damn you’ve got a pretty one jun”. he comments. if you weren’t bound to the headboard you’d run out of sheer nervousness. but you couldn’t.

juyeon grabbed your jaw and glares into your eyes steadily, almost as if he were searching for something. with him doing this you hadn’t even noticed that yeonjun and hyunjin disappeared behind you. “you have some pretty lips. you know that? show me how well you can suck my dick“.

he fiddles with the waistband of his briefs, giving you a gorgeous view of his chiseled body and you wanted to melt right then and there. however someone was groping your thighs underneath you and you realized yeonjun was back in the same position as before. and hyunjin was above him, his hands groping your ass and kneading it. he spills some lube into the palm of his hand and shoves two slendery, slippery fingers inside your ass without warning. you choked on your own spit and wince at the pain. he rubbed his clothed dick against you, biting his lips.

“have you ever done anal before baby?”.

you shudder. “nno i haven’t”.

he hums before scissoring his fingers inside you a bit more, stretching you out so his dick could fit perfectly. you’ll admit, you weren’t too keen on anal before hyunjin stuffed his dick inside you and filled you to the brim. yeonjun attaches his lips to your clit again, and juyeon rubs his dick against your lips forcing you to take him in whole. more than anything you didn’t know you’d be experiencing this. being ruined by three men instead of one.

you hummed against the shaft of juyeon’s dick at the feeling of yeonjun’s tongue licking your soft folds through and through, all the while hyunjin’s giving you soft thrusts from behind. the delicious mix of pleasure made you delirious. your tummy caved in and your thighs were trembling once again. and oh yeah, yeonjun got his wishes of you staying quiet. juyeon was filling your mouth so much a sound could barely be audible. juyeon slips his hands in your hair, jerking your head back just so he could see your mouth filled his precum. he grins.

“a subscriber of the whorehouse gets used like a whore. you like this shit don’t you?”.

hyunjin grips your waist harder and chuckles. “she can’t talk with her mouth full. she’s being a lady”.

juyeon smirks and glances down at you trying to suck him as far as you could possibly reach. “is that true? you’re trying to be polite?”.

yeonjun smirks and licks another stripe up your wet swollen clit before chiming in. “if so, shes at the wrong place. polite prissy princesses don’t get fucked and sucked this good”.

hyunjin slams a hand down on your ass, making it jiggle underneath his palm. “they sure don’t”. you groan against juyeon’s length feeling like you could pass out any second. he thrusted himself between your lips steadily loving the sloppy, messy sounds your mouth was making in the process.

“look at you...you suck dick and take it good. who taught you this?”. juyeon growls.

you softly whine, crying in response. numerous moans left your throat but it was a mystery on whether or not they’d actually be heard. it didn’t even matter though because all three of them was groaning loud enough to drown out the sound of yours. you felt like you were going to lose your damn mind being used like this. the pleasure of it all made your toes curl and body shiver. yeonjun’s wet lips were coated in nothing but you precum at this point and hyunjin speeds up the movements of his waist, snapping into you like he’d never get a chance to do it again. well, considering the system of the whorehouse he just might not. and he was making it evident.

“fuck, your pretty ass”. hyunjin groans while throwing his head back and biting his lips, slamming you back against his waist every chance he got. your ass was pretty like this, stemming down from your cinched waist it was plump and perfect from this angle. hyunjin thought he could watch it bounce against him all day if he could. you unintentionally pushed back on him leaving a hum of approval sputtering from him lips. “oh shit”. he grumbled.

“she’s fucking you while riding yeonjun’s face. shit, I like her”. juyeon licks his lips while holding your hair in up a makeshift ponytail. tears jerk from your eyes as he shoves his dick down your throat again before pulling it back out. you gagged enough to spit his precum back over his tip.

“I like her too”. hyunjin mentions, completely stopping his hips just to watch you desperately fuck yourself to an orgasm. a throaty groan became a murmur as your legs trembled and the familiar wave of electricity washed over your whole entire body. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“she’s pulsating so hard around my tongue I think she’s about to cum”.

“she’s so cute look at her fucking herself. you gonna cream all over us baby?”. hyunjin groans.

your high pitched whine rang through the steamy atmosphere and as if your body listened to hyunjin words you did just that, your juices spilling down his thighs and waterfalls down yeonjun’s chin. hyunjin slips his fingers into the curve of your waist and fucks a bit more until your ass was filled with his cum, and the sticky contents of juyeons fluids were already slithering down your throat. your body spasmed and jerk so hard and yeonjun licks the aftershocks out of you before getting up and fucking your throat until he got a fix of his own. he grunts and roughly pulls your hair while he does so, letting his hot cum spill down your throat after he was finished. your limbs felt so weak. you wanted to just stay there and sleep. but unfortunately you had to walk back to your residence hall in this condition. it was fucking worth it though.

after you were freed from the handcuffs you could see the bruised rings on your wrist from them both. “put your clothes back on, go back to your dorm and take care of yourself baby”. yeonjun speaks just before they all vacated the room.

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

  Taglist: @kirbykook​ @kleritata​ @taestannie​ @jenotation​ @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban​ @speed-of-wind​ @kawaisoraya​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

���Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.  

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.  

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

.

.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

.

.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.  

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

.

.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

.

.

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ahoney--girl]

Keishin Ukai

Triggers !!

Daddy kink

Tattoos 

mentioning of collars 

A little soft but smut .

“Sure about this doll?” Keishin questions again, eyes soft as he searches mine. “Just as sure as I was ten minutes ago when you asked.” Smirking back at him, he scoffs. “Don't be a brat when I’m about to have a sharp object near your body.” “Wouldn’t be the first time.” I shoot back. Laughing he rises to his full height. Moving around my expanded body on his tattoo chair. Turning his back he starts preparing the machine, his back muscle-flexing beautifully under his oversized shirt. He pushes his hand through his shaggy blonde hair before adjusting my stolen pink headband in his hair. He knows I love it when he wears it due to it being thicker than the average headband and the pastel pink dye. Because of its original usage being for my thick afro curls and his love for the way pastels look in contrast with my dark brown skin. It stands out beautifully on his skin and hair. Making it obvious he was taken. Marking him just how I'm marked. “Keep this up and I’ll punish you when we are supposed to be celebrating today.”

 Turning back to face me, his tattoo gun loaded with the specially mixed blue ink. Walking back to the chair my legs slid open on instinct for him to slide in between. Smirking at how I accept him without question, his free hand slides onto my neck. Pulling on the silver collar a thick heart lock clicking it together with the date of our anniversary. “Three years to the date. You officially became mine.” “And you mine.” Our voices dreamily recall the day. “Here's to three more years yeah?” “And so any more,” I whisper back just as easily as he infers our next three years. “Before we start..” I wander off in my voice. My eyes floating along his white shirt hiding his tattooed and defined body. But I know from many a night in love and passion what is hiding below. Especially over his heart, the same custom blue ink “baby girl” in my handwriting. “Want daddy’s cock in you?” He finishes with a knowing smirk. “Feeling anxious?” He continues, knowing the exact answer already as I push my skirt up further. Moving my panties to the side to show my already wet pussy. “Please,” I beg. Leaning forward his lips connect to mine. Soft guiding me as his hand moves to my pussy circling at first when pushing in slowly. A moan breathes from that he sucks into his mouth. Slowly his finger and lips pull back from me. Just as slowly as he pushed into me his finger push into his open mouth eyes on me as his finger swirls on the finger before closing so he could suck. His other hand now free of the tattoo gun grips his dick aligning it up with me. “Always such a needy slut.” He hums poping his finger from his mouth to grab my collar again. Pulling it so that I move forward to meet his lips but not allowing any pressure just feeling him. “As if I haven't been railing your cunt at least once a day for the past 3 years.” The head of his dick pushes in as I bite my bottom lip. The feeling of being filled with the increased pressure on my neck buzzing my body beautifully.

 “Still so needy for daddy.” "Always." "That's a big promise to make babygirl." "Mean it though." I moan out with him fully inside, heavy and pressing into all my senses. Eyes floating closed at the feeling then a buzzing sound wakes me again. tensing on instinct. "Fuck baby" He groans hand on my collar moving to grab my neck above the thick silver chain. "Behave. This will be over quickly then we can play." Nodding in agreement. "Kiss first." Smiling softly he pecks my lips moving back to slip into his hand into the black latex gloves. Whipping the area over my chest that matches up with his, he starts pressing the gun down. A few minutes later he was done. Whipping the freshly made tattoo I clench and unclench in excitement around him. Laughing he moves to play the gun on the counter next to us. "Someone is excited." He hums, stripping his hands of the gloves and turning to give me his full attention. "Love being marked by you. I Wanna play now." "Of course we can play now." "And always." It was a statement and yet the voice made it into a question. Keishin Smiled leaning forward, connecting his lips with mine. Hand brushing over the new tattoo lightly to not damage the bandages around it. "Daddy's" hides under the bandages matching perfectly to my signature on him. Marking each other to the other. "Always." He hums pulling his hips back before snapping them forward, twisting ever so slightly to his favorite spot inside of me.

[a-smile-hides]

A WARM CUP OF COFFEE - A.H.A.

Pairing: Alex x reader

Warnings: none, just ... not really - that great?

Sum: This was a request (thank you for that!) and I would like to apologize because it took so long and.. Yeah. The request:

"Hi 🥰 do you still take request for Alex Andersen? Something like the OC is alex teacher at university and they fall in love with each other but the age gap is a problem so she broke up with him but BOOM they really love each other!! With some fighting and fluffy 🤤🥲hahah sorry if its bad 🥰 thank you!"

A soft ‘thing’alerted the old man behind the desk, making him look up from today’s newspaper and push his glasses further back on his nose. The small café he owned was somewhat concealed from the busy streets, tucked away in between two large buildings. It created the perfect escape for the chaos of life. Oh, how he was proud to own this little palace. A simple, ‘back to basics’ coffee shop where people could enjoy a good cup of coffee. Where people could talk or just relax, or in your case, find some inspiration to prepare for a new class.

Returning his friendly smile, you easily manoeuvred between the mismatched tables and chairs until you reached the one next to a small window. As usual, a silver sign stood on the table reading ‘reserved’ in a beautiful font. And as usual, you plopped down on the chair that gave you a look out on the street, sliding the sign to the end of the table so that it could be picked up by one of the staff members. Throwing a notebook and different prints out on the table, you breathed in deeply.

It had been a long day already... And it was like... what? – 11 a.m.?

“There you go, honey.”

Without even looking up you already knew who stood next to your side, presenting a large cup of coffee with one of those delicious self-made biscuits.

“Jer, I can’t thank you enough”.

The man laughed, seemingly pleased with himself after seeing the frown on your eyebrows clear up for a second. He waved your gratitude off and returned to his kitchen.

He had grown used to your visits over time. It wasn’t hard to miss you, sitting stressed in the corner of his little café, browsing through pictures and notes trying to decide which was the best one.

It hurt him every time he saw a lost soul enter his little café, in a rush and completely lost to the world around them. In you, he saw one of those lost souls. Busy, busy, busy... Overloading themselves with work.

It seemed as today would bring no exception. And you once again would ignore the beauty and comfort his café hoped to give to its customers. Especially when he saw you fiddling with a large package, no doubt filled to the brim with new photos for a possible lecture, he knew you only came here to work even more. Sighing, the old man turned around, reaching towards the different treats and cakes his little shop offered. He knew you would be there for a while and figured that the need for sweets may come soon. In the background, he could hear the familiar sound of your papers falling onto the ground. Accompanied by some swear words, immediately followed by mumbled apologies. And he could not hold himself back as a laugh passed his lips. It became a routine really...

Still chuckling, he turned around and placed a large piece of cake on a plate, decorating it with an extra piece of dark chocolate. The sound of someone entering his café made him look up momentarily, greeting the young man who just entered with his signature smile. The young man returned his smile warmly, before letting his eyes wander over the place. He had clearly never been in here before. His eyes narrowed once he focused on something in the back of the café, furrowing his eyebrows in worry. Skilfully, he walked between the tables and chairs as if he had decorated the place himself. To a small table next to the big window, where you were still mumbling under your breath about how life seemed to hate your guts. And it made the young man chuckle. Loudly.

Freezing for a second, you immediately collected all the pictures that had fallen off the table, carelessly throwing them back on the table. Refusing to meet the eye of whoever found enjoyment in your clumsiness, you side stepped back to your table. Hoping and praying that they would just go away. But they stayed.

“It’s good to see you’re still as clumsy...”

It was a good thing you were leaning against the table, otherwise you would have been knocked to ground right now.

“Mister Anderssen.” You nodded your head.

The young man pressed his lips together in a tight smile at the greeting, feeling a sting in his heart that he believed to have been long gone by now.

The long silence that followed felt dense and awkward. He was trying to make eye contact, his lips were turned up in a little, comforting smile. He did not know what to say or feel as he looked at how your body seemed to turn away from him. Your arms were wrapped around your middle, your eyes glued to the pictures on the table without truly looking at them. And then, his gaze fell on the smallest amongst them. He could recognize that gloomy setting from anywhere. His heart jumped, he felt overjoyed and the smile on his face grew larger.

“You kept it?” He breathed out, making it sound more like a question.

Slowly, he crouched down, careful not to make you run away. As he took the card from under one of the chairs, brushing some dust of it. Looking up, he waved with the picture he once offered you to use in your classes.

Nodding to himself, he kept his eyes locked with yours as he slowly came up. “You kept it.”

“I did” You spoke out softly.

***

“Fuck”

The curse had left your mouth before you could hold it back, as you watch yet another one of your cards fall on the ground.

It was good that none of your students had the habit of arriving in time for your class. Choosing to rather arrive just in time for the lecture to begin instead of showing some interest and being there before it began. Otherwise, they could enjoy this little comedy show as you desperately tried to stick those cards on a timeline.

You had never thought that one day, you would stand in front of class, as a teacher. Talking about something that had been a passion for so many years. Movies are a piece of art, a way to express and communicate. And now, you had the power to let others see that as well.

And even thought the path of being a teacher had crossed yours rather unexpectedly, it had made you happier than you’ve ever been.

And it had let you to some beautiful and interesting moments.

Looking down at the picture in your hands, a warm feeling overcame you, painting a very small smile on your face. It was a simple photo of a man standing alone in the street. The sky was pitch black; the only light provided by a single streetlight on the far right. The yellow light cast dark shadows on the ground. And on the left, almost completely hidden in the shadows, you could see the silhouette of another man. His back was turned to the man he had left behind under the streetlight. And thus, he missed how the other reached his hand out in a desperate attempt to call him back.

Every year you would collect pictures to show off how a simple setting can bring out different emotions to an audience. This scene would often bring feelings of sadness, grief, loss, misery and heartbreak to your students. Ironically, this scene brought you only a warm feeling. The beauty of the shot together with the memory of how you had come across this movie, cancelled out those unhappy emotions.

Completely lost in the moment, you almost jumped up when two hands sneaked around your hips.

“Morning”

His voice was raspy as he failed to conceal the chuckle that passed his lips.

“Morning, mister Anderssen”

He laughed, rubbing his nose in the crook of your neck. He found it almost amusing how you spoke so formerly to him now when at night...

“Mister?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting your way out of his grip. Without giving one look to the young man behind you, you picked up the card that fell out of your hands. Looking down at it again, you sighed and returned to your desk. The classroom needed to be ready before the students would arrive.

“I thought we made an agreement; you would not visit me this early to avoid suspicion, right?”

Alex smacked his lips, nodding his head slowly. He played with the straps of his backpack as his mind brought him back to that memory. It was around three weeks ago; you were collecting everything to go home after a long day when the young man suddenly sneaked in to share some ‘alone time’. Sadly enough, another student had forgotten her scarf that day and ran back to retrieve it. Even though you tried your hardest to not succumb to his advances, his willpower was way too strong. And the poor girl had almost walked in on you and him kissing. He had pushed his luck too far that time.

Still, if he could, he would not take that moment back. Every second spend with you was worth it.

“It’s nice to see you still like that picture...” He said, pointing to the card in an attempt to effort to change the subject. “After you told me what subjects we would discuss in the future, I immediately thought of that movie and-”

Alex’ voice died once your eyes met his. He was always the first to enter your classroom. In those moments you always could be yourselves. There was no reason to hold back. In that way, these few minutes of privacy would always be filled with love and jokes, stolen kisses and hugs. He couldn’t really recall the precise moment his dream came true, and you returned his affection. The way to earn it had been long and filled with obstacles. The boundaries that needed to be crossed were great. And it felt unlawful, disgusting, wrong... And still, so right.

Now, as he stood only a few feet away from you, it felt like a mile. Your eyes danced across the room, only meeting his for a mere second before quickly darting away again. Your hands brushed some imaginary dust of the picture, while you tried your hardest to breath normally. Little signs of how the nerves started to creep up.

“If you want other recommendations...” He tried, but again... The strength in his voice died before he even finished his sentence. Alex grew concerned as he watched you turn around and hung up the card. The whole thread portraying different scenery throughout film history over the last 50 years shook as you clumsily pined it next to a very bright photo, depicting two children running around at a fair.

Alex frowned when you still did not respond to him. Softly, he moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, trying to turn your body towards him. His head was lowered down a bit, a friendly look on his face as he shakily asked: “What’s on your mind?”. Hoping that whatever bothered you, he could help you solve it.

You didn’t need to see his face to know how his eyebrows were scrunched up with concern. Or how his mouth was slightly twisted as he pondered over who or what could have made you behave so coldly.

But the reason was crystal clear to you.

The adoration you had received from the man in front of you was overwhelming. These past months have been a dream. Almost indescribable. Just as all those sappy quotes on Pinterest say: some things just need to be felt. And this, this felt great.

It had been great.

Felt.

Had.

You bite your lip, feeling nervous all the sudden. Turning around, you tried your best to avoid his blue eyes. They were hypnotizing, demanding for a reason, an explanation.

“Mister Anderssen-” You started again.

“You know, we never did that kind of play, but I am open to anything.” He tried. His attempt to lighten the mood was only met with silence. A silence that felt deafening. And it made his stomach turn.

With his finger and thumb, he slowly lifted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eye. He was a bit taller than you, and he loved that. He used it to his advantage on every occasion he got.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked again.

You sighed, feeling it was better to speak the truth. “This.” You answered, “Us.”

Alex lifted one of his eyebrows, scratching the back of his neck. “Us? What's wrong with us?”

“You’re smart, Alex.” You answered. “Deep down, you know.”

Alex eyes widened. He was speechless, dumbfounded.

“I am a teacher, your teacher to be exact.”

“And you’ve been teaching me amazing things.” He snickered, wiggling his eyebrows.

You snorted, shaking your head. Until you remembered what you wanted to share with him, and your face went blank again. It was almost impossible to not give in, to hold back your laughter when he was around. But you had to.

“Alex.” You said, pushing him lightly away. “The age gap is way too big.”

His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he turned your body more towards him. His eyes narrowed. And although they still sparkled, the hurt he felt could not be hid. The time he could hold back secrets had long passed.

“What made you start doubting us?” He asked.

You sighed, looking down at the ground.

“What if I said... What if the doubt never left? What if it was a thought that always bugged me?”

That made him halter. His muscles stiffened for a second. A millisecond in which he let the guard down and his pain became visible. But just as quick as it fell, the wall was back up again. He stood upright, the hands on your hips now slowly making their way up towards your shoulders. The corner of his lips was pulled up, a fine grin that silently asked you to laugh or say it was just a joke. That it wasn’t the truth.

Alas, it was the truth.

The lingering thought that had been filling your mind with doubts and questions for a while now. Making you question yourself and your choices, but above all, the day on which you gave into his charm.

He was a young, handsome man filled with life and chances. He was almost at the end of the first big chapter in his life, ready to begin a new one, to step into an adventure. After this... Did he want to work somewhere? Move back in with his parents? Maybe he wanted to travel? See the world after being closed off from it after keeping his nose in his books all the time. He could explore, try to discover who he really was. And... Fall in love with someone else. Someone … more of… his age.

How could you hold him back from that?

His thumbs started to stroke small circles of comfort on your neck, while he kept on trying to make eye contact with you. With each passing second, he felt himself grow more uneasy and lost.

“Little one... Love.” Alex winced as he saw you flinch with each nickname that passed his lips. His voice pitched and he sounded in a rush, as he wanted to find a way to ease those doubts. “Y/N, what...?”

The corner of your lip twitched in a weak effort in making a smile appear on your face. It failed horribly, as you felt yourself get overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. “We have to stop this now, Alex.” You managed to make out. “It’s done.”

In the back of the room, he could hear the slow ticking of the big silvery clock. It was only five minutes until the lecture would begin. Any time now, someone could enter the room and walk in on their teacher standing in a, what they would think, romantic embrace with her own student. It only made you more nervous and desperate to get out of his hold. To just say goodbye. To leave this all behind and start new.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head widely. “The age gap is just a number, not even a high one. You want me as much as I want you, right?”

“I do- I- I did. And now, I am ending it.” You said, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the stinging feeling in your eyes. “I am letting you go.” you whispered, finally pushing his arms away.

Alex breathed in deeply, stepping forward as you took a step back. Again, and again, you shoved his hands away. He tried to make contact, to touch your arms, to hold your hands, but every time you slapped his hand away. And his heart broke as you kept on avoiding him. He grew frustrated.

“What do you want, Y/N? Since when are you afraid? So, what if they say something? We- We are the ones in love! They-”

“Alex! It’s done! I don’t want this anymore. I don't want- I-”

At this point, he felt the blood in his veins boiling. His heart clenched. His stomach turned. “So, we-this meant nothing to you?”

“That’s a low blow, Alex” You bit back.

“What do you want, Y/N?!”

“I don’t want this. I don’t want you anymore, Alex! This is done! Over!”

He scoffed, his fists clenched at his sides while his chest went up and down with every heavy breath.

“Over? Why are you acting like this? When have you turned into this scarred shell of-”

“I don’t care if you don’t see the problem. Someday you will. And you will understand I made the right call.”

The clearing of a throat ended the discussion sooner than Alex would have wanted. Another student had entered the classroom. Her eyes were wide open as she stared at her teacher and the class top student. Her mouth was slightly open as she tried to form a sentence, but no sound seemed to pass her lips.

You swallowed, quickly wiping a fallen tear off your cheek, stepping even further away from Alex, whose eyes were still glued to you.

“Good afternoon, miss Tuffin. Please take a seat.”

Alex slightly shook his head from side to side, unable to comprehend the situation.

“So, mister Anderssen. Now that you know your answer, please take a seat.” You said quietly, flinching as your voice cracked a bit. Your eyes did not meet his anymore, even though he was hoping you would look him in the eyes again. He knew deep down you did not mean one word of the things you had said. "Class will begin soon.”

***

The silence that had formed was killing the both of you. No one knew what to say or do. The awkward tension held him back from taking the first step, the fear mixed with the embarrassment from a few moments earlier made it impossible for you to move. It felt strange to be in each other’s presence without having the ability to look each other in the eye for longer than a few seconds. And even stranger to know how different this was only a few months back. You had resorted to dust off the pictures that had fallen onto the ground while Alex let his eyes wander around. He did not know what overcame him as he walked up to you. The little café had never come to his attention before. He blamed the big buildings that flanked the warm place for that. As he stepped in, looking for a place to enjoy a good cup of coffee, he wished he had discovered it a long time ago. The mismatched tables and chairs, the hanging lightbulbs, the old paintings decorating the flower wallpaper… Everything breathed out comfort and safety.

The older looking man had greeted Alex with a warming smile, until both men were distracted by the loud curses of a woman in the far back of the café who had dropped her papers all over the floor. Alex did not know whether to laugh or run away when he saw that you were the poor soul collecting all the different photos of the ground. And before he even knew it himself, he stood in front of you. Trying his best to make a casual conversation, without losing his cool.

He was failing miserably.

He really wished the sudden urge of confidence hadn’t left so suddenly.

Jeremy frowned upon the sight in front of him from his place behind the counter. The large piece of cake he had prepared for you earlier stood abandoned next to him. He had never seen that young man in your presence before. Every day you visited his little café alone. Never were you accompanied by a friend, nor had you ever invited one. He could not help the chuckle that passed his lips as he saw the strange boy fumble his way towards your table. But by the way his steps slowed down with each second and how he now stood before you as if he had committed a crime, the old man could not help but wonder what your relationship had damaged to become so uncomfortable.

“Y/N…” Alex started, sighing as he noticed you close your eyes for a second, turning your body slightly away from him.

“Y/N.” He tried again; his voice sounded a bit stronger, more certain. As if he had found his courage and willpower again. But then it crumpled again, his shoulders dropped as he frantically tried to make eye contact. “I am happy to see you again.”

This made you look up. “Me too.” You nodded. “How are you?”

Alex snorted, looking around the café as he tried to find words. Why had it become difficult to speak to you? “Good?” He nodded, more to convince himself than you, “Yeah, I have been good. Taking pictures, trying to improve my photography-“

This made you laugh, the sound making his heart jump for a second. “As if you needed any more improvement.”

Alex bit his lip, glad that you weren’t paying attention to his red flushing cheeks. He breathed out deeply as he looked down at the different cards. His eyes glided over the different pictures depicting scenes of romance, hope, grief and so on. Without saying anything, he sat down, flipping through them one by one. Some of the pictures made the corners of his lips slowly turn up, while others made his brows furrow.

This gave you the opportunity to finally take a look at him. His hair had gotten longer since the last time you saw him. Back then it was cut short, but now his long locks were held together in a little man bun. His jaw was accented by a subtle beard. It’s crazy how much he changed in a few months time… Yet he still looked as dashing as back then.

“I still think this one is the best.” He smiled, showing you the gloomy picture from earlier.

His words made you snap out of your daze, clearing your throat as you took a seat opposite from him after he arched one eyebrow, pointing to the empty chair.

“That’s a shocker,” you shrugged, “You came to me with that movie.”

Alex nodded, the confident smile on his lips reached his eyes for the first time, making them shine bright. However, that light quickly died. Absent-mindedly, he let his finger wander over the picture, contemplating if he should speak up about the shared past or not.

“I… I knew we would meet again, you know? Well, I hoped”

You looked down at your coffee, once again escaping his eyes while wrapping your hands around the lukewarm beverage. It didn’t offer you much comfort anymore.

“Now that I am older,” He lightly joked, “More mature, more-“

“Alex” You interrupted his train of thoughts. “Don’t- Don’t do that.”

“Maybe now you can give me the real reason as to why you gave up on us so easily.” He continued, his voice was low, almost a whisper but the sneer in it could not be ignored. All of the sudden, it felt as if you were on the artic. The blood in your veins ran cold as he had backed you up in a corner. Alex knew he could have pushed you even further away from him, but simply needed to know. The young man sat there before you with his heart beating loudly in his throat. His jaw was clenched, and his fingers lightly drummed on the table.

You sighed, not daring to look into his eyes. Before you even opened your mouth to answer his burning question, he softly spoke up again. “The truth, please.”

You laughed dryly, now really feeling trapped under his demanding stare and the growing tension between the two of you. “I did not want to.” You confessed, feeling your eyes well up. “I really… I really loved you, you know? The time I shared with you was wonderful, and I want you to know that it wasn’t your fault or anything… I just let myself get carried away by my feeling for you, Alex.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” He asked, not understanding your motive.

You grinned, looking at his confused face. “I was your teacher, Alex. We had this conversation before, I wasn’t-“

His hand immediately flew towards your hand, making you fall quiet. “So what? I never cared. Not then, not now. I am no longer your student, there is no reason anymore to hold back anymore.”

You snorted; he would never change. He would always be this cocky little brat and-

“Wait. What do you mean… ‘no reason to hold back anymore’?”

He grinned, squeezing your hand a bit. “I always hoped we could meet again, so I could tell you should not be afraid of our relationship anymore. Or your feelings. Or… us. Don’t say anything because I know that fear held you back. We can be together, Y/N! Please, just-just leave behind your doubts for once. Don’t give a fuck about other people!” He said, his voice becoming louder with each word, growing with passion. “Put yourself first…” His face sprouted a smile, but it was not one of happiness or relief, no, it was because he felt helpless. He could feel you slipping right through his fingers again as he saw you shaking your head. He saw the doubts written all over your face. The questions rummaging through your mind. Was he being truthful? Was it unethical? Could you just start over again and continue this relationship? Was it worth the risk? “Just, choose with your heart for once. You know my feelings for you, but I am waiting for you.”

His words warmed your heart and made the corners of your lips turn upwards slightly. The worries clouding your minds made it hard to really focus on his words, still… You could no longer deny how he made you feel deep down.

As you licked your lips, the both of you suddenly got shaken out of your little bubble by a friendly voice complimenting the handsome man in front of you.

“My dear boy, you could not have a better timing. She really needs someone to make her laugh and escape that world of hers full of work and deadlines she dares to call a life.” Jeremy laughed, waving off your shocked expression, knowing you were about to contradict him. “You both need each other, children.” He paused, placing down two cups of coffee, accompanied with two large slices of one of his famous cakes. “Listen to an old man’s wise words.” Without any further words, and still ignoring your shocked face and Alex’ gestures that he had not ordered anything yet, he left the table to go back to his counter.

From there, he watched how you both broke into a fit of laughter, figuring it was better to enjoy the food and drinks than let them spoil. As Alex shrugged his shoulders and took a careful first bite of the pie, you took a first sip of your new and cup of coffee, never breaking eye contact with him. And… it felt good.

The old man behind the counter watched proudly as the two of you slowly picked up a conversation, sharing what you had been up to these past months to the finest details. The words suddenly came easily and talking felt comfortable again. Laughs, giggles, and loud exclaims of shock and delight were audible throughout the whole café, often making the other customers look up from their spot in the far back of the café. But you couldn’t be bothered by them. No, you were far off in your bubble. A bubble that was warm and joyful, filled with light and love now that Alex was in it.

And as the hours passed and the second slice of pie had been devoured, Jeremy’s heart filled with joy as he saw how your hand was still in the hands of that handsome boy.

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! xxx

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Surprising Finds

Summary- 1.7k. Ransom Drysdale x You. Bucky Barnes x You. Ransom said you could do whatever you want. So you decided you wanted to go antiquing much to his dismay. Warnings- probably a word or two. But honestly its fluff. Divider made by @firefly-graphics​

A/N- I found out @sagechanoafterdark​‘s birthday is coming up. As its a surprise, I didn't ask but I did take some inspiration from her personal series Held For Ransom and All Good Things. Both fantastic series and should be checked out. I hope you have a wonderful day Sage and thank you for reading all my rambles in your DM’s. 

Ransom perched his sunglasses on the end of his nose as he peered over the frames to the quaint storefront you had him stop at. There was a couple tables displaying some nice dishes and other kitchen appliances, above them in the awning were hanging baskets of morning glories lifting to the morning sunlight and giving the whole store a welcoming feeling. “Here? This is where you wanted to stop Y/N? It looks abandoned.” 

You were digging in your purse and pulling out a few bills to stuff in your pocket before pushing your bag to the floorboard and under the passenger side car seat. “It does not look abandoned. There is an open sign right in the door.” 

“Is that even a legit sign? It looks like something someone plastered it there to draw in unsuspecting tourists so they can trap them and torture them. There is a Saks just another hour away we will be passing. You can find whatever you want there.” He tried reasoning with you, about to turn the car back on when you reached over and slipped the keys from the ignition and smirked at him. 

“Nice try Ransom, but today was about what I wanted to do.” You slipped out of the car, leaving him there huffing at you and pushing his sunglasses back up his nose and following you. He did agree this morning to those terms. Of course you might have coerced him with playful kisses on his chest while straddling him, giving him the look.

That look. 

The cursed look you could pull off whenever you caught him off guard. Fuck it Drysdale, you should have known better. 

“Well if I had known you were going to drag me to the middle of some bum fuck town in the middle of nowhere to look at other people's junk, I would have planned out a trip for us instead.” He complained in a slightly accusing tone as you shrugged while pushing open the door with some effort, blinking in the sudden dim lighting that accompanied antique stores typically. 

“Stay in the car then Hugh, you can't ruin this for me.” Almost flippant sounding, not caring. Oh that tone could drive him nuts.

“Don't call me that.” he snapped. 

“Then quit acting like I'm forcing you to come with me against your will.” You shot back with a smirk, knowing that you could so easily get under his skin. Peering around now that your eyes adjusted. So far no one had come from the counter to greet them, so you just wandered into the building. Ransom was not far behind, picking up random things and rolling it in his hands before setting them back down. You hummed happily while lifting box covers and pulling out old records, reading titles and sifting through a few piles of magazines and books littering the shelves. “See, it's not so bad.” 

Ransom, who was currently glancing in a glass case with some fine gold jewelry and coins yanked his sunglasses off and perched them atop his head. “It's okay, but it's still full of junk.” He made a pointed glance at a gaudy relic of a mime painting leaning against a wall. 

“Sure, you have to seek out the treasures in here.” You countered while sidling up towards him, loping your arm around his waist while looking in the case before moving towards the painting he had so adamantly pointed out. “What do you say, we could always gift this to Linda?” You teased and Ransom moved beyond the glass case to stand in front of it, laughing. 

“Are you saying my mother would enjoy that?” Ransom quirked a brow as you made a move to stand a bit away, holding it out at arms length and making you giggle. 

“Hell I know she would hate it, but how funny would it be to see her attempt to say thank you while we are offering to hang it on her wall?” 

“She wouldn't even try. She would flat out say hell no.” Ransom shook his head and pulled out the painting behind it, grimacing at the next one. Some portrait of a man, looking stoic in the portrait, it actually reminded Ransom of his Harlen's portrait that he was sure Marta still had hanging in memory of his grandfather. “Besides, it's probably haunted or some shit.” 

You were about to point out why it was an even better gift then to torture Linda with when a male’s voice interrupted them. You both turned at the same time to see someone come out the back room. 

Coffee colored hair framed around a warm face, dog tags bouncing off his chest as he grunted with effort dropping off a heavy looking box behind the cash register. “I can assure you it is not haunted. Not that piece at least.” The man brushed the dust off his hands as he came around to greet them. “But I'm afraid I can't tell you the story behind it. I'm just helping today. The store owner happens to be at an estate sale. But anything you have an interest in, I can have her call you. My name is Bucky, if you need any other kind of help.” He smiled warmly, holding his hand out which you shook, then Ransom afterwards, introducing yourselves as well.

You had to admit he had caught you by surprise. Your breath hitched a bit and you felt Ransom stiffen next to you, having heard it as well. “We are just here to look around, not for anything in particular. But thanks for the offer.” You mention while Ransom wraps an arm over your shoulder, you could feel him posturing slightly, a puff to his chest, a rumble of a “We are fine, thanks.” 

Bucky retreated back to his project after you two moved away further into the store, looking over old knick knacks and vases that you had an interest in. Ransom loosened up once you two were alone again. 

“What was that about?” You asked while moving to a clothes rack, picking up an extravagant hat and perching it on your head. 

“What was what about?” he asked, grabbing a scarf and draping it around your neck, pulling you closer. A signature smirk on perfect pink lips upturned slightly. “You look dashing by the way.” 

You narrow your gaze as he drops his head to nip at your lips, pressing your hands to firm pecs under his shirt. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” you whispered while he continued to tease you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulled away. 

“I heard that gasp of yours.” He pulled the scarf off while you did the same with the hat, moving into another section of the store. “You think he’s cute.” 

You paw through some random box of items, picking through mugs and utensils. “So what if I did?” 

Ransom curled the tip of his nose at your response and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, seeing a moment of self doubt that you knew he dealt with, although you two have brushed on the subject a few times, you knew it lingered. You roll your eyes to yourself with a half smile and turn back to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Sure hes cute, but does he drive me insane and fuck me so good I’m screaming his name? Or bring me my morning coffee in bed? Do I wear his favorite sweater around the house to tease him? That's a hell no, only you get that Ransom.” 

“You are a menace.” Ransom shook his head, that doubt melting from his eyes and turning sharp again with your statement. 

“Hell, calling the kettle black their Drysdale.” You grin while taking his hand and leading him to the next table. Ransom was about to follow when he pulled up short, picking up a decanter made from cut crystal. 

“Okay this I want.” He let go of your hand, admiring the rest of the set. You folded your arms over your chest, smirking at him. 

“See, complain the whole time and look who’s the first one to find something they just had to have.” 

You stood at your kitchen counter mixing together some dried tea leaves to pack into a tea ball when you felt a pair of arms circle around your waist and a broad chest press against your back. “Welcome home Doll.” came the Brooklyn accent that made you smile, looking over your shoulder with a quick peck to his lips. 

“It's good to be back. I got some really nice items so that once they are cleaned up they will look excellent displayed in the front there. Did you have any customers?” You turned back to your tea, dipping it in a cup and pouring the steaming water over it. Soon the calming aroma of lavender wafted over you two while Bucky and you retreated towards the living room. He settled first and you curled into his side. 

His fingers smoothed along your thigh while he recounted the day to you. A few small sales, some of the vintage dresses that so many loved finding in good condition, a rather nice dresser you had hoped would find a good home and collectible teddy bears that you guessed would go quickly. 

“... then a younger couple came in. They had a whole mess of stuff they took with them. That decanter set you had laying around went. And the woman found herself a “I’m The Boss” mug she insisted on much to his dismay.” Bucky chuckled softly recalling the expressions. “They were looking at the paintings in the corner. Assuming that mime one was haunted, it is kind of creepy.”

You giggled while sipping your tea. “It is, I hate that thing, but people are really into that shit. Good thing they didn't take that one behind it. That one actually does have a spirit attached to it.” 

“The old man portrait?” 

You nodded while tugging a blanket off the back of the couch and cuddling into it, wrapping the two of you up while reaching for the remote. “Oh yes, he's been with that thing for years. Harmless really, you can catch him when you smell cigar smoke. He just likes to hang out. I offered to move him on, but he insists he's happy right where he is.” 

Bucky was quiet a moment and tugged you in closer. “I can understand that.”

[blackmissfrizzle]

The Barbershop (EZ Edition)

Angel’s Edition

Miguel’s Edition

Pairing: EZ Reyes x black!reader

Summary: The reader gets EZ ready for his patch party.

Warnings: Use of the n-word & smut

A/N: Thank you to @ly--canthrope​ for the EZ fluff prompts!  

A/N (2): I highly suggest listening to El Clavo while listening. Also, I think Nestor and Coco might be getting some attention from me, so be on the look out for that.

Prompts: 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice” 

Person scrunching their nose & other kisses them

When you got your first pair of clippers in high school, EZ was your first customer and ever since you’ve been cutting his hair. Even when he went off to college, EZ came back to Santo Padre to get his hari cut by his best friend. The only time you didn’t cut his hair was when he was in prison for those 8 years, but since he’s been back, he hasn’t missed an appointment.

Now here he was at your house with his hair longer than usual because he was busy with club shit. Luckily, he came by with enough time for you to do his hair before his patch party. “Ezekiel, please come to me before your hair gets this long again.”

He pinched your side as you moved around him. “Hey, you do Angel’s hair all the time and his hair is a shit ton longer than mines.”

“I’m used to Angel’s long locks! You’re supposed to be the clean-cut brother.” You stopped cutting his hair and moved the clippers in front of his face. “Oh, and if you pinch me again while I’m doing your hair, I’ll purposefully fuck up your hairline. Let’s see how many of those hang arounds will want your dick then.”

He held up his hands in surrender and mumbled his apologies, but not really meaning it. As long as you’ve been his best friend his favorite pastime was to rile you up. He loved how flustered you got when you couldn’t come up with a clever comeback. He loved how your hand slapped him across his body even if it was a little painful. He loved how your eyes widened in shock and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how you’ll look when he finally gets the chance to slip inside you.

Everyone was aware of his crush on you, except you. The only reason EZ didn’t tell you was because with the pair of you, timing was awful. When he realized he was in love with you, you had a boyfriend and when you broke up with that boyfriend EZ was with Emily. Then, he went off to prison and when he came back, he didn’t want to involve you with his mess, so he kept his distance. But he couldn’t wait anymore, he had to let you know.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he grabbed your attention by lightly grazing your hip. “Yes, Ezekiel?” He let out a soft groan. He loved when you used his full name. It didn’t matter if you were yelling it excitement, teasing him, or scolding him, he just loved to hear it.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t say anything else because your phone started to ring. It was your sorta boyfriend, Rick. EZ couldn’t stand him. He was a douchebag that gave you more headaches than anything. And it was obvious to EZ that you didn’t love him. It was evident in the way you talked about him like an annoying chore. For the life of him, EZ didn’t understand why you kept him around.

“Oh, so now you’re coming? Well, just meet me there because EZ’s riding with me.” EZ couldn’t help to smile a bit at you putting Rick in his place. He tried to listen to Rick’s response, but he could only make out his tone and from that he could tell he was pissed. “Why? Nigga, I don’t have to give you a reason why my best friend is riding in my car.” Even though you were busy with your little argument your hand never faltered, cutting hair was second nature to you. “Ugh, if you must know its his party and I’m planning to get him plastered, so he needs a DD. That’s good with you? Oh, wait I don’t care,” You hung up the phone soon after that.

“Rick coming?” EZ managed to keep the disdain for him out of his voice. “Who knows? Probably be better if he stays but forget about him.” You turned off the clippers and brushed his hair, then gave EZ the mirror to inspect himself. After he gave his haircut a serious inspection, he started biting his lip and doing his signature pretty boy poses.

“Okay, Lothario if you’re done making out with yourself in the mirror, imma go take a shower to start getting ready.” As you turned to walk away, EZ grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. “Thank you, querida.” He kissed your wrist and gave you those adorable puppy dog eyes. “No problem, EZ,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, then went to your bathroom to get ready and ignored your heart swelling up from EZ’s touch.

An hour later you were still getting ready and EZ was taking a shower. While you were applying on makeup, EZ walked into your room wet, fresh out the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. You knew EZ was ripped, but see it up close, my god there are no words.

EZ caught your staring in the mirror. “Like what you see?” He asked, flexing his pecs. “Ew, no!” You falsely claimed and scrunched up your nose in faux disgust.  EZ came up to you and kissed your nose before snatching your lotion off the dresser.  “You know what, you’re right. You love it.” EZ was so damn close to you that you could feel the heat of the shower radiating off of him.

“Yeah, I love it,” you deadpanned before pushing him away. “Now get ready. I don’t want you to be late to your own party.”

--

While EZ was having the time of his life, you were having the opposite. Rick ended up coming, but he was in a funky mood thus bringing your mood down. When his first words were something about how your dress wasn’t flattering, you made plans to break up with him. Using him as a distraction from EZ was draining your soul and you didn’t need that kind of energy in your life.

He made the breakup easier for you when you caught him in the restroom with one of Vicky’s girls with his dick in her mouth. You couldn’t even muster up any anger, instead you gave the girl and extra $100 for her troubles.

Although, getting cheated on sucked, what pissed you off the most was the girls all fawning over EZ. They were all over him like bitches in heat, rubbing on his chest, arms, and head, commenting on his haircut…your haircut. “Damn chica, just go claim your man.” Coco observed how you were sending death glares at the women.

“He’s not my man! He’s grown and can do whatever he wants.” You sputtered, surprised at being caught. “Exactly! If you weren’t too chicken, then he’d be your man.” Angel commented, taking a sip of his beer.

You ignored Coco’s and Angel’s somewhat encouraging words to look back at EZ. Your face instantly brightened when you saw how at ease he was. It wasn’t too often EZ could let go like this.

EZ felt a pair of eyes on him and when he found out it was you his eyes gleamed, he cracked that boyish smile and raised his beer to you. Excusing himself EZ made his way to you and gave you a hug. “Ezekiel, what’s with the hug?”

“I miss you.”

“You rode with me here, EZ.”

“Its Ezekiel and I barely talked to you since we’ve been here. Is it so bad that I want to party with my best friend?” You scrunched up your face. “I guess not.”

EZ hummed his appeasement and kissed your nose.  “Come dance with me.” He didn’t give you time to reject him. Tightly he tugged your hand and pulled you into the middle of the scrapyard.

Prince Royce and Maluma’s El Clavo began to play. EZ knew how much you loved this song, but since you didn’t know Spanish you didn’t understand the song. It was ironic to him that this song was playing tonight. Earlier, he saw how Angel escorted Rick out and the relief wash over you when you saw him leave. He knew Rick must’ve done something stupid. If it wasn’t for your need to avoid conflict, EZ would’ve beat his ass right then and there.

“What are you doing?” You questioned EZ as he placed his leg between yours and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dancing obviously,” he chuckled near your ear sending vibrations throughout your body.

You decided not to fight him and followed his lead. There’s been plenty of times you’ve dance with EZ, but it was always playful and fun, but this…this was different, this was sensual. A passionate dance only meant to be shared between lovers.

“Eyes,” he ordered assertively. It was his command to you when he wanted you to feel what he was saying.

Si esta noche tu novio te bota (If tonight your boyfriend throws you out) Dile que tú no estás sola (Tell him that you are not alone) Que tú estás conmigo, que yo sí te cuido (That you are with me, that I do take care of you) No como ese idiota (no como ese idiota) (Not like that idiot (not like that idiot) Si esta noche tu novio te bota (If tonight your boyfriend throws you out) Dile que tú no andas sola (que no 'tás sola) (Tell him that you are not alone (that you are not alone) Que yo soy el clavo que saca ese clavo (That I am the nail that pulls that nail)

Y dile que se joda (And tell him to fuck) Maluma, baby

Your breath hitched as EZ began translating the lyrics to English. He had to be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. “There it is.” He pointed out. “There what is?”

“That look.” He tugged your bottom lip that you had tucked underneath your teeth. “What look?” Your breath brushed against his thumb and it took all his control not to pounce on you.

“Eyes blown out, chest heaving. See,” EZ gripped your chin to keep your eyes leveled with his. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. It’s the same look I have when I look at you.”

“Stop playing with me, Ezekiel.” Your heart couldn’t take it if this was some sort of joke. “I’m not.” His voice did not waver.

“What about Emily? Or Gabby?”

“Distractions. Distractions that kept me from the real thing for too long.” You sucked your teeth in disbelief. EZ decided to translate the song for you some more. If you weren’t going to believe his words, then maybe you’ll believe another’s.

Yo llevo la cuenta, esta es la quinta vez  (I keep track, this is the fifth time) Pero yo no entiendo por qué no lo ves   (But I don't understand why you don't see him) Tú estás demasiado buena para estar con él (mamacita) (You're too hot to be with him (mamacita)) Tremenda mujer para estar con él  (Tremendous woman to be with him) Y si te busca a las 4:20 porque te llama borracho  (And if he looks for you at 4:20 because he calls you drunk) Ahora te quiere pero mañana vuelve a hacerte daño (Now he loves you but tomorrow he will hurt you again) Por ese bobo no llores  (For that fool, don’t cry) Deja que yo te enamore (deja que yo te enamore)  (Let me make you fall in love (let me make you fall in love)

Now that you knew EZ’s feelings, the lyrics became much more intense for you. Instinctively, you rested your forehead on his. His lips hovered over yours so much that you could taste the beer on his breath. Your acrylic nails caressed the back of his head caused him to stop his translation and purr against your neck. “You like that, Ezekiel?” You teased, giggling against his neck.

“I don’t know,” EZ pressed up against you tighter so you could feel his hardon. “You tell me if it feels like I like it.”

Now or never, you thought. You brought your lips closer to EZ’s. The both of you fighting for dominance, but ultimately EZ won, claiming you in front of the club. It wasn’t until you heard the cheers of his brothers that he’d stop kissing you.

Instantly, EZ started pulling you in the direction of your car, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait, Ezekiel. I need you now.” EZ’s normally bright eyes darkened and he led you towards the clubhouse. On your way to the dorm room, both you and EZ ignored Angel when he told you, “Don’t be surprised when EZ starts crying.”

As the pair of you made it through the hallway, each of your touches got heavier, more daring. So daring that when you finally got to his dorm your dress was halfway off. The rest of the clothes fly off like a whirlwind except EZ’s jeans. In his rush he tripped over his jeans. “Oh, that’s funny?” He asked when he caught you giggling.

“Just a little.” EZ rushed to you, tackled you to the bed and quickly turned your giggles into soft moans as he kissed you.

Despite your best efforts to keep him close, EZ pulled away. He leaned back on his haunches and admired your body. “I can’t believe I finally have you.” He lifted your leg threw it over his shoulder and started kissing you from your ankle up to your inner thighs. “You know one night when I slept over at your place. I caught you touching yourself. Your hands flew to your face to cover up the embarrassment. “Oh god,” you mumbled.

EZ’s deep chuckle made you peek through your hands. “What are you embarrassed for? For that little 10 seconds, it was the sexiest thing I’ve seen, but it was so damn torturous in the most beautiful way. Do you know how hard it is to have that vividly replaying in my head and not have you?”

The whole time EZ was talking he was getting closer to your core, but you were hyper focused on his words that his mouth on your clit took you by surprise. “Shit,” you squealed underneath his tongue. With your hand you covered your mouth to keep your screams down. EZ lifted his head at your muffled screams. “No, let me hear you. Let me know how good I make you feel.”

Following his instructions, you removed your hand and that earned you an approving smile from EZ. “Good girl.” Before he returned to his meal, EZ grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

This time he added his fingers as he ate you out. The hold he had on you allowed no room for you to run, you had to stay there and take everything he was giving you. Add pussy eating to the long list of things that Ezekiel Reyes is great at.

Your hands shot out to EZ’s head. Scratching it was your best alternative since you had nothing to tug at. EZ raised his head, his mouth glistening from your cunt. “I bet you wish my hair was longer now.” He teased before diving right back in.

“EZ, I’m gonna cum.” You continued scratching the back of his head as he moved his tongue and fingers faster. “Cum all over my mouth, preciosa.” He murmured above your pussy.

An explosion. That was the only way you could describe your orgasm. It busted through your body, leaving you and EZ soaked. The evidence shone on his forearm, highlighting his veins, leaving you in a trance.

EZ noticed your staring at his arm. “Ride my forearm.” He demanded, excited that he’ll be able to get you off this way.

At first you were hesitant, but with EZ’s urging you hopped on it. You were experiencing immense pleasure and wanted EZ to experience the same. Tonight, was a celebration for him and this entire time his focus was on you. Completely selfless as usual. Reaching between your bodies, you began stroking him, smearing his precum all over his engorged head. “What are you doing?” He gasped, flexing his arm a bit more. “Tonight’s about you. I want to make you feel good.”

EZ nibbled at your chin. “I want you to cum all over my forearm, that’ll make me feel good.” You continued jerking him off while you rode him.

Who would’ve thought the rough ridges of his protruding veins and his constant flexing had you cumming a second time for the night? “Fuck we got to do that again!” You tried to nuzzle your face in EZ’s neck, but he wouldn’t let you because he was too busy kissing you all over your face. “EZ, I just came on your fucking arm.”

“Yeah and it was hot! I bet that douchebag couldn’t do that with his measly dick.” Slowly, he began to lay you down. “Now you’re about to cum all over my dick while screaming my name.”

Your now boyfriend made good on his promise. Opposed to Rick’s useless jackhammering, EZ made slow, powerful strokes, ensuring you were well taken care of.

He was tending to your body so well your eyes kept rolling to the back of your head. “Eyes!” He commanded harsher than ever before. When your eyes met his, you could see the struggle in his eyes. EZ wanted to be soft, gentle, and romantic, but deep down he wanted to fuck you hard, show you who you belong to.

“Make me yours, Ezekiel. Fuck me like you mean it.” It took him some time to process the words, but when he did his widened in realization that he got permission to let go. “Fuck, I love you.” He captured your lips in a searing kiss, hoping to communicate how much he loved you. “I love you too.” You told him as he had a bruising hold on your hips.

Gone was sweet soft Ezekiel. He was replaced by EZ, the harsh lover that’s gonna push you over the edge, then bring you back just to do it all over again.

Yours and EZ’s moans accompanied by the sound of bodies slapping together made a symphony that you would never get tired of. This was what you were missing for all those years apart.

“Make me proud. Cum all over this dick, querida.” EZ suckled your neck, branding you with his marks. “Ezekiel!” You cried out as your body combusted, almost feeling every molecule in your body. The newly patched Mayan silenced your cries with his mouth as he came soon after you.

EZ tried to lay in the bed with you but you refused. I t was his party and you were adamant that he enjoys it some more. You two can have your alone time later.

Just as you were sliding up your panties, EZ stuffed his fingers up your cum filled pussy. “Don’t want this leaking out.” He whispered, giving you a cheeky grin as you moaned at his ministrations.

“Okay, that’s enough you nasty ass kids. Playtime is over! Time to get fucked up, baby bro. I’m sure Y/N wants to forget the last 30 seconds.” Angel banged on the door.

“That was nice while it lasted.” You slipped your dress over your head and fixed your hair. EZ hummed his agreeance and led you out the door and ignored the childish jeering from his brothers. They could tease all they want, because as long as he has you, he doesn’t give a damn.

Taglist: @starrynite7114​ @sadeyesgf​ @ly--canthrope​ @woahitslucyylu​ @marvelmaree​ @angrythingstarlight​ @teakturn​ @thickemadame​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @strawberrywritings​ @dearsamcrobae​ @chaneajoyyy​ @spookys-girl​ @bigsisbria​

[lucretia-waits]

Burnin' for you

Honestly this is the product of poor sleep and me having a Thing for Johnny taking every opportunity to sit in V's lap. Yes I was listening to BOC while writing this.

Summary: While on a job Johnny does his best to keep V and himself from being discovered. He takes the opportunity to straddle V and kiss them silly.

Tags/Warnings: *Me putting on my glasses like an old lady* Let's see we got SilverV, NSFW, (pls DON'T read if you are under 18) not full on smut btw just a sudden makeout and grind session.

Note(s): I did do my best to keep V vague so you can imagine your V.

*

The two of them are at a club, waiting for their target to arrive. They’re seated in a darkened corner to avoid detection. One of Johnny's legs is resting over V’s knee as he puffs on a cigarette, his signature shades lying on the table in front of them. V’s hand rests on his leather clad calf, fingers intermittently flexing as they scan the club’s patrons. Johnny’s left arm rests on the back of the booth they’re in, metal fingers coming up to flick at V’s ear. V hisses. “Ouch you jackass! Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” He asks, grinning, twirling a lock of V’s hair around a glinting metal finger. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” V feels their face heat up and they reach for their glass on the table, taking a much needed drink. Johnny gives a quick and affectionate ruffle of their hair before his hand falls back to resting along the back of the booth. V misses the contact as soon as it’s gone. He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table before the leg resting on V’s knee slides to the floor. Johnny scoots closer into V’s side, their thighs touching, his metal arm going around their shoulders.

“Look.” He says, voice quiet and low, gesturing towards the entrance of the club where a small group of people walk in. Their target, a man dressed in a red button up and black slacks makes his way to the bar. The others who follow him are his guards. One stays stationed near the club’s entrance while two go with their boss. The guard stationed at the front of the club begins scanning the establishment’s customers and without warning Johnny shifts beside V. He moves so he’s straddling their lap, knees on either side of their legs, his hands gripping the back of the booth for balance. The table in front of them makes the position a bit of a tight squeeze. V’s hands instinctively fly to his hips. V feels positively hot as he adjusts his weight before sitting so his leather clad ass is seated fully on V’s thighs. They’re very close and Johnny climbing into V’s lap isn’t uncommon but they haven’t done anything quite like this before. V is acutely aware of their heartbeat and the warmth of Johnny’s body.

“Can you see ‘em, V?” He asks, voice a whisper as he leans forward, speaking into V’s ear while giving V a clear view over his shoulder. “They still lookin’?” V swallows, momentarily struggling to find their ability to speak. “Y-yeah.” They reply, tongue darting out to wet their lips. “That’s a real shame.” Johnny says, sounding all too pleased. When he straightens he’s wearing a sinful smile. V finds it incredibly difficult to keep an eye on the guard still scanning the crowd when Johnny is sitting in their lap. “C’mon V, gotta make this look convincing.” He purrs, hands sliding down the back of the booth to rest on V’s shoulders. V nods wordlessly, fingers gripping his hips harder as they guide him to grind in their lap. When he does so V can feel him brush against their lower stomach with the movement and V realizes he’s half-hard. Arousal, heavy and hot, pools at the base of V’s spine. Johnny’s tank top rides up with another slow roll of his hips and V sees a sliver of skin peek out. V quickly slides their hands underneath the fabric to grip at the flesh of his hips, pulling him close. Johnny leans down, mouth pressing to V’s. His tongue, slick and hot, swipes against V’s bottom lip and they let him in. The kiss is searing and even a bit messy but V doesn’t care. Not when Johnny is grinding and wiggling in their lap like this. A string of saliva connecting their mouths snaps as they come apart for air.

“Fuck, V. He still there?” Johnny asks, leaning down, this time pressing kisses to the side of their jaw. V looks toward the entrance of the club. The bodyguard stationed there has since stopped scanning the club’s clients and has walked over to the bar where his boss sits. “Oh fuck…” V mumbles.

“What is it, V?”

“Pretty sure they’re onto us.” Johnny presses his face into the crook of V’s neck, letting out a groan. “Pesty fucker.” He grumbles. V sees the bodyguard lean down and whisper something into his boss’s ear before ushering him to get up. Sometimes having a big reputation in NC can be a real pain in the ass, V thinks. “Alright, let’s get this asshole so we can go home.” V says, patting Johnny’s thigh. He reluctantly removes himself from their lap and stands. “We gonna continue this later?” He asks as they leave the booth and begin making their way out of the club, tailing their target. It’s V’s turn to flash him a wicked smile. “I’m lookin' forward to it.”

*

Yooo I'm back on my bullshit. Like/reblogs/comments are all greatly appreciated y'all make my day better. If you wanna chat about cyberpunk or anything i'm here like, all the time LMAO this is basically my home.

[harryforvogue]

a quick little blurb about faye being anxious about hanging out with timothée’s girlfriend for the first time

***

“You got this,” Harry tells Faye for the hundredth time, brushing her bangs to spread them more evenly on her forehead with his fingers. For the first time in a while, she’s decided not to clip them back, and he tells her he likes it very much. Her cotton candy pink hair is in a braid down her back, some loose strands framing her face. She even has her earrings in.

That’s how he knows she means business. She’s going out to make friends.

“I’m going to enjoy myself,” Faye mutters, looping her arms around his waist. He’s sitting on the arm rest of the couch, Faye standing between his legs. He smiles as he thumbs away some of her lip gloss. “I can do this.”

“You’re going to enjoy yourself,” he repeats.

“I’m going to have a good day. It’s just shopping. I know how to shop. This time it’s… it’s with someone.”

“Yes. You’ve gone shopping with me, right? It’ll be like that.”

“Right.” Faye takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she exhales, her nose a little scrunched. “Just shopping. With a complete stranger.” Her eyes fly open. “Are you sure you can’t come with me?”

“I can, but I don’t think I want to, Faye. Remember what we said about branching out?” He gently cups her cheek, pulling her head up.

“Yes, but maybe this is too much. We should just go on another double date.” She steps on her tiptoes a bit, nodding to herself. “Yes. This is a good idea. I’ll go tell Timmy.” She turns around to knock on the boy’s door, but Harry quickly grabs her arm and brings her back to his chest with a firm shake of his head.

“No, Faye. Timmy and I can’t come with you.”

Her eyes go big and her bottom lip pouts. “Why not?”

“Because you are going to hang out with her and only her. If I go with you, you’re gonna hide behind me.”

“I’ve never hidden behind y--”

“Yes you have. Don’t argue with me on that. You know I’m right. Look, she’s a really nice person. You’re going to love her. She’s very kind.”

Faye closes her mouth and frowns, choosing instead to rest her head on his chest, tightening her arms around his torso. He smells so good, like the shampoo she’s left in his bathroom. Since it’s getting colder, he’s begun wearing sweaters instead of his signature t-shirts. It makes him so much warmer and cuddlier, and in turn, hugging him makes her warmer and sleepier…

“I’m not worried that I won’t like her,” she mumbles against the black fabric. Her hair tickles his neck. “I like her a lot. She’s so cool and confident. I’m worried about…” her voice gets impossibly quieter, muffled against his body, “her not liking me.”

Harry holds her tighter, his heart pained at the sound of her saying such a thing. “Cherry, she’s going to love you. You’ve talked to her before!”

“I stumble over my words. She doesn’t.”

“That’s when you’re nervous.”

“I am nervous all the time, Harry! And she always dresses so nice.”

He looks down at her skinny jeans and tucked in shirt. She’s also wearing one of his rings that he custom fit for her. “Faye, you look lovely. Hey, look at me.”

She reluctantly lets her pull her face away from his sweater, looking up at him with a weird expression. “It takes you awhile to get used to people, and I understand that, but we have to start somewhere. Remember the morning after we first slept together and how awkward it was? Now look at us. I think you farted in front of me last night.”

Faye cracks a smile and his eyes drop to her mouth immediately. “That was you.”

“I know,” he chuckles, bringing her in for a quick kiss. “But it just shows how comfortable we are with each other.”

“It took a long time to get there. I can’t do that again.”

“But we had to start somewhere. This is your chance to make a friend in her, Faye, and if you were able to befriend that guy you fucked for five months, I think you can befriend Timmy’s girlfriend.”

“But girls are different. Girls can be mean.”

“Do you think she’s mean?” He tucks his thumbs under her jaw, even his voice patient and even.

“No,” Faye says after a while. “She’s very nice. She talks about my plays with me even though she’s never gone so see one.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “Maybe… I can invite her to one of mine?”

Harry’s eyes light up with excitement. “Yes! That’s a really good idea, Faye!”

She smiles at his enthusiasm, standing up a little straighter. “Okay. Okay, yes. That is a good idea. You’re right.”

The doorbell rings and Faye flinches a bit, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall and then the door. Harry runs his thumb over her cheeks. Her blush has traveled over to the bridge of her nose and she looks so fucking cute. He bends down and gently kisses her, smiling at the taste of the cherry flavored lip gloss. “You’ve got this,” he mutters, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Take a deep breath. Let me know when you get there?”

Timmy opens the door and greets his girlfriend with a massive hug and kiss, telling her Faye will be out in a second. Harry holds his girlfriend's hand as he walks her over to the door, passing her along. “Have fun girls.”

“We will. Don’t wait up,” Timmy’s girlfriend winks and takes Faye’s hand excitedly, pulling her out the door. Faye manages to throw a wave to Harry who is grinning at her.

He wraps an arm around his roommate’s waist, sighing. “There they go.”

Timmy does the same around Harry’s waist, leaning into him. “They grow up so fast.”

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language. (I had aged up Peter so he’s 18.)

A/N: Flashbacks in italics as usual :) I know it’s been forever, motivation is hard to come by these days. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, it’s long enough to break into two chapters but I know I haven’t uploaded in a while so Merry Christmas lol.

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! Please please if you could just leave a little message of things you like or what you want to see in the future it really helps.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!” You heard your name called as Happy opens the limo door. He extends his hand to help you to your feet.

“Stark, look over here!” The paparazzi screams were almost deafening as Peter exited the car after you. His mask hid more of his features while yours left little to the imagination, they knew who you were already, so no point in trying to hide it.

“Behave.” Happy pointed a stern finger at you.

“Don’t I always.” You feigned offense as your hand clapped over your heart, he raised a brow as your mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Goodnight Happy.” You chuckled, turning and stepping onto the red carpet leading to the venue.

“Who are you wearing?” You heard different questions screamed in your direction. This was a charity gala after all, not the fucking Oscars. Who cares who made your dress?

You slipped your hand into Peters, trying to calm him. This had to be overwhelming, all the cameras in your face, screaming anything they can to get you to look their way.

“Dr. Stark!” One voice called, gaining your attention. Few people addressed you with your appropriate title. You turned to see a young woman, who didn’t look like she’s been on the job for very long. She was holding her own though, against all these ruthless reporters. You thought you saw The Bugle among them.

“Dr. Stark, Glory Grant from the Times.” She smiled once you looked her way. You took a step closer to her, nodding at her to let her know you were listening and she could continue, “Can you tell us why this cause is important to you?”

“Of course, every child’s life we can save is like an investment into our and their future. They’re going to be the ones to take over the world someday. Who knows who will be the next Einstein, or Madam Curie...” You began with a smile.

“Or Y/N Stark,” She smiled. You laughed, shaking your head humbly.

“If we can do our part in donating and relieving some of the financial burdens off of their parents then it’s worth it. This organization not only helps families and children currently fighting cancer, but it helps look for a cure. A permanent solution to help end this disease.” You spoke from your heart.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark.” She smiled as she scribbled the last of your words onto her notepad.

“Are you new at the Times Ms. Grant?” You asked, taking another step closer to her and the barrier between the two of you.

“Yeah, I just started.” She smiled nervously.

“Can I borrow your pen?” You asked, and she handed you her pen and pad.

“That’s my work number. If you’d like to be added to the Stark Industries press board, give me a call. They’re the first ones we call about press releases and announcements.” You spoke as you scribbled it down, handing it back to her with a smile.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark, but why are you helping me?” She furrowed her brows.

“Because it's a man's world, and we can help change that, one woman at a time,” You said, causing her to laugh, “You’re the only one here to actually address me by my title and not ask me about my outfit. I see a bright career ahead of you.” You nodded to her as you took a step back towards the middle of the carpet.

“Enjoy tonight,” she smiled, beaming at the new opportunity. You winked at her as you took Peter’s hand and led him along the carpet and up the stairs towards the venue.

“That was nice of you,” He squeezed your hand.

“I mean it’s effortless for me, but it will help kick start her career. I got this kinda third eye about people.” You smirked.

“That’s not a real thing.” He shook his head with a laugh.

“Sure it is. It’s not always perfect, but sometimes I can just tell when people are destined for something great. Like you, from the moment I met you I knew.” You turned towards him, taking his other hand in yours.

“You knew what?” He titled his head in confusion.

You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, forgetting you were at the top of the stairs and still in full sight of all the photographers. You saw the flashes but you didn’t care. Peter’s identity was safe with his mask, and you wanted the whole work to know how happy he made you.

“That you’re a good person, and you’re gonna do big things.” You beamed up at him as you pulled away from the kiss, turning to lead him inside.

“So what else can this third eye tell you?” He asked curiously.

“It’s kinda like a gut feeling, to trust someone or not trust them. Like fight or flight, something’s not right kinda feeling. I just trust my gut, ya know.” You shrugged.

“I think I know exactly what you mean.” He said, and you turned to him with a raised brow before remembering your conversation from a week ago.

“Oh that’s right, like your spidey senses.” You chuckled, making sure to keep your voice low.

“My what?” His eyes went wide.

“You said you can sense when something bad's gonna happen. Although mine isn’t as specific and can’t be attributed to a radioactive spider.” You chuckled, walking to a secluded corner of the ballroom.

“Shh someone could hear you.” He whispered, you smiled, shaking your head, knowing everyone’s always drunk at these sorts of things.

Turning to face Peter, you raised your hands to straighten his bow tie. Your mind wandered to how great he looked in his suit. The feeling of butterflies swirling in your belly from the moment you saw him step through your door a few hours ago had barely worn off.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Wow,” you both muttered as your eyes landed on each other. You’d never seen him all dressed up like this. He looked good, really good. You gulped, trying to push the dirty thoughts from your mind.

His hair was slicked back, not the mess of curls you were used to. He looked so grown up. You could almost picture him commanding a Stark Industries board meeting or standing at the end of an isle. Wait- slow down Y/N, jesus.

He looked so natural, so dapper, and then he turns and gives you that signature goofy smile- there he is. It brought a smile to your face. How did you get so lucky? How could you have landed a guy as great and handsome as Peter Parker. Were the girls at his school brain dead? You would think everyone would want him. Kind, sweet, intelligent, respectful, and Christ he cleans up well. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Have you just been staring this whole time? Jesus, Y/N say something, he’ll think you’re crazy, you thought.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked, trying to compose yourself. He only nodded, still not able to formulate words.

You were wearing red. His red. No- not his red obviously, but the same color of his suit. And god he loved it. He felt like you were wearing a piece of him. Like he had marked you, you were his.

“You look...” He trailed off, his eyes still wide. He cleared his throat and smiled, trying to compose himself. You could almost hear his internal monologue urging him on - Come on Peter, keep it together..., “You look... God Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” You blushed. Of course that wasn’t the first time someone had told you that, but coming from Peter it felt different, “You look so handsome. Not your usual kind of suit, huh?” You smirked, causing him to chuckle as he pulled on his sleeves.

“I have your mask.” You smiled, still admiring him, holding the mask out to him.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Why doesn’t your mask hide your identity?” Peter asked, as the two of you watched more and more people file into the ballroom.

“Because people will know who I am anyway, and I’m not hiding.” You explained.

“How will they know?” He furrowed his brows, you shook your wrist in response.

“I don’t know anyone else with a custom blaster built into a bracelet. I’m also on the younger side, and pulled up in a ride with Stark Industries plates, so it wouldn’t take a genius.” You smiled, starting to recognize a few faces of regulars as you people watched.

“Do you always wear that thing?” He asked, holding up your wrist and examining it.

“No, I’ve got a watch for day to day wear that does the same thing. Dad may not give me a suit, but he won’t leave me completely defenseless. And it has come in handy.” You trailed off, remembering the not so fond memories of the last time you used it. Your ribs still ached if you thought about it long enough.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to use it tonight.” Peter said, craving one normal night without having to be a hero.

“Someone would have to be very ambitious to attack this place, they’ve got security out the wazoo.” You brushed off, praying tonight would go well.

A hush fell over the crowd as the charity president walked onto the stage and welcomed everyone. You felt Peter’s hand slip around your waist protectively as everyone pushed a little closer to the stage to hear. This part was pretty standard, basically a little speech to kick off the  night, a thank you for coming, and who to make all checks out to. Music filled the ballroom as the band began playing after the applause for the speaker died down.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Peter nodded off towards the open bar.

You nod as he walks off and turn to admire the ballroom. Your eyes soon land on a familiar face.

“Dr. Strange,” You smile, greeting him.

“Dr. Stark,” He nods. You’d met a few times at these sorts of events. You hadn’t seen him for a while though, and there were rumors of an accident.

“How are you Stephen? I haven’t seen you since...” You paused to trying and remember, “Was it that benefit for the hospital a year ago?”

“Had to be, I’ve been... traveling.” He stated ominously. You glanced down to see the long thin scars along his fingers.

“Well it’s nice to have you back.” You smiled.

Peter now rejoined you at your side, slipping a drink into your hands- non-alcoholic of course, per May’s request. His other hand found its way to the small of your back.

“Peter, this is Dr. Stephen Strange.” You introduced him.

“Peter Parker,” He smiled, shaking the doctor’s hand. Something you couldn’t describe flashed over Peter’s eyes as they shook hands. Like a gut feeling he couldn’t quite place. For some reason his spidey senses were going off.

“Enjoy your evening, I need to check in at work.” Strange gave a curt nod and smile as he said his goodbyes. As he walked past you he dropped his voice to a whisper and spoke into your ear, “I like this one much better than the last.”

“Me too,” You whispered back with a smirk.

“So... how do you know him?” Peter asked curiously as the doctor excused himself to call the hospital.

“We run in the same circles, it’s a lot of the same people that come to these sorts of things. His hospital donates a lot of money to these causes and when he pisses off the board they send him to represent them as punishment.” You explained.

“This is a punishment?” Peter asked, dumbfounded.

“For a neurosurgeon it might just be,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m surprised he’s here.”

“Why?” He furrowed his brows.

“I heard he was in an accident not too far back. A bad one. I didn’t know he had gone back to work. Hmm...” You looked off to where the man had disappeared to.

“Care to dance, Parker?” You changed the subject, taking his hand into yours and placing your drinks onto the nearest table.

As the song changed to I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingos, he held you in his arms, swaying slowly. You were lost in him, hours could have passed, or seconds. As your bodies were pressed together you felt a sensation you could only describe as home.

“So has it been everything you dreamed it would be? These stuffy formalities for rich people to get drunk and spend money.” You chuckled as you looked up at him.

“It’s beautiful, but I guess, I mean it seems so glamorous from the outside.” He shook his head.

“Sorry to burst the bubble for you. It’s a little less Gatsby, and a little more, middle aged businessman doing coke in the bathroom.” You quipped.

Peter’s head immediately whipped towards the bathroom door where two men were emerging, one rubbing his nose.

“No way...” He looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’d be surprised.” You chuckled.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a little more dancing and mingling you and Peter made your way out onto the deserted balcony.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he leaned onto the railing next to you. You were hiding it well but he still sensed it.

“A little.” You chuckled, cursing those spidey senses for giving you away.

Peter slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. You thanked him as you turned to admire the moonlit lake below you. It was so quiet and peaceful, untouched by the party going on just on the other side of the glass doors.

“Did you have a good day?” Peter asked.

“Perfect.” You looked up to him and smiled, and you meant it.

“Um, so, Happy told me that you don’t like to celebrate your birthday but,” Peter began to speak, nervously. Your eyes grew wide, how in the world did he know it was your birthday? That was the one day you liked to keep private and out of the press. Only the Avengers, Pepper and Happy knew when it was. “I wanted to give you this. Everyone deserves at least one present on their birthday.”

“Peter you didn’t-” You shook your head, before he cut you off.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark swore me to secrecy so I won’t go announcing it to the world.” He reassured you as he reached into his pocket to pull out a little box.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m sure you have a million other fancy things, but I wanted you to have this.” Peter opened the box nervously, revealing a necklace. It was a single pearl and diamond dangling from a silver chain. Simple, but beautiful. “It was my mothers. Aunt May said that my dad gave it to her on their wedding day.”

Your jaw dropped slightly and your hand went over your heart.

“Peter, I-” How could you accept this? It was probably one of the last bits he had of his mother and he was just giving it away? You knew how much they meant to him, and he’d been through so much. With losing both parents so young and then his Uncle Ben not that long ago. Tears began to pool up in your eyes. Did he really care about you that much to part with something this important?

“Are you sure?” You asked softly.

“Of course I am. She would have loved you. She would have wanted you to have it.” Peter spoke, slipping the necklace on you as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You turned back to him with a smile, he gently rubbed his thumb across your cheek to wipe the tear away. He didn’t know what to say- actually that’s a lie. He knew exactly what three words he wanted to say, but he thought it might be too soon and he might scare you. He absolutely didn’t want that. So he just smiled at you as you leaned in to kiss him.

You pulled away and wiped your tears, trying your best not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Peter.” You sniffled, chuckling at how silly you were being.

“Happy birthday.” He beamed as you heard the band strike up a slow song inside. He extended his hand to you, “Y/N Stark, can I have this dance?”

There was that goofy smile again, causing you to giggle as you placed your hand in his. He pulled you close, you rest your head on his shoulder as you both sway to the music. And for once in your life, everything was perfect.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After everyone had said their goodbyes and they ushered you out of the venue, you and Peter began your short walk through the park to the Plaza Hotel across the street.

“Tonight was like a dream,” You said, as you swung your intertwined hands slightly.

“Haven’t you been to a million of these things.” Peter chuckled and shook his head.

“Yes, but I’ve never been to one with someone I love and it’s a very different experience I’ve learned.” You spoke, causing Peter to stop.

You turned to face him as you noticed his wide eyes, not believing the words that just came out of your mouth. It took him a minute to process. One, that meant you loved him. And two, that meant you were never in love with Thomas, since you’d been to these events with him before.

“Ok, you’re kinda scaring me now Peter,” You laughed nervously at his awestruck state.

“You love me?” He asked, and you answered with a nod and a smile.

He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a sweeping kiss.

“Am I dreaming?” Peter asks, pulling away, looking for any sign on your face that this was all some sort of joke.

“I sure hope not,” You chuckle.

“I love you too,” Peter beams at you, pulling you into another kiss.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Woah...” You and Peter both mutter as you push open the door to your hotel room. Now this was fancy. You felt like you were in a room in Buckingham Palace.

You both walked around, inspecting the room as you dropped your coats. You saw your bags in the corner that had already been brought up. You ran your hand over one of the pillows on the huge California King sized bed as your lips morphed into a smirk and an idea popped into your head. You clutched onto the pillow with one of your perfectly manicured hands as you spun around, whacking Peter with it.

“Hey!” He yelped, eyes growing wide at what you’d just done.

“Come on Parker, let’s see what you’ve got.” You tossed him another pillow from the bed with a smirk.

“O you’re gonna regret this,” He stalked towards you. You kicked off your heels and jumped onto the bed, standing up on your knees.

He swung his pillow as you ducked, it just missed you. You took the opportunity to whack him again. He looked at you with wide eyes, thinking, How had he missed?

“What? Couldn’t see that coming, bug boy?” You laughed. Taking those few seconds to gloat had proved fatal as you felt his pillow attack your side.

“Oof,” You feigned pain as you dropped backwards until your back hit the bed.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, worried, thinking he’d really hurt you. With his super strength he was never sure.

You waited until he was kneeling next to you to jump into action, according to your plan. You jumped up, pushing him back onto the bed as you straddle him, grabbing your pillow and smacking him a few times.

“Ok, ok, you win!” Peter cried out, forfeiting.

“Yes!” You threw your pillow up in the air in victory. Peter looked up at you, still on top of him with your hair now a mess, hanging all around your face. He cherished the genuine smile on your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you, you looked so happy.

You crawled off of him and back onto the floor where you extended your hand to help him up. As he placed his hand into yours and rose to his feet, you didn’t notice his left hand reach for the pillow. Before you knew it, there was a pillow lightly thrown in your face.

“Peter!” You squealed through laughter. He knew you were about to retaliate when you reached for your own pillow on the bed. But he was faster, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you away.

“Come on, truce?” He asked as you struggled against his arms.

“Fine, truce.” You said, shaking his extended hand as he let you go.

“Hungry?” You asked, reaching for the room service menu on the desk and flipping through it.

“Starving.” He said, reading it over your shoulder.

After you had called in the food, you walked over to explore the rest of the room.

“They said it will be about an hour.” You told Peter, as you pushed open the door to the bathroom.

“So what do we do til then?” He asked, but you didn’t hear him.

“Jesus, look at the size of that tub.” You exclaimed, and Peter came over to your side to get a look at it too.

“Wow,” He said when his eyes landed on the giant clawfoot tub, “Um we definitely have to use that.”

You turned to face him with a smile.

“Really? You’d wanna do that?” You asked, who knew Peter Parker was a sucker for bubble baths.

“Absolutely. And do they have those big fluffy robes like in the movies?” He asked, excitedly, like a kid on Christmas.

You walked over to the closet and pulled the doors open, revealing two robes as described. You pulled them out and presented them to him.

“Cool...” His eyes lit up as he felt the material between his fingers.

You started to run the water, adding bath salts and bubbles, knowing it would take a while to fill the whole thing. Your things had already been brought to the room before you got there, so you got to work taking off your makeup and letting your now messy hair down.

You tried to reach for your zipper, as your body cried to be released from this skin tight dress.

“Hey Pete,” You called, and he strolled in the bathroom, now only wearing his dress pants and no shirt... and the butterflies were back. God how could he look that good, you stared shamelessly.

“You called?” He smirked, breaking your train of thought.

“Oh um, can you help me with my zipper?” You blushed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Mhm, turn around.” He instructed, before his fingers found the metal pull tab and he slowly worked it down, revealing more and more skin.

“There you go.” He smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, his gentle action nearly making you swoon. “I think the water’s ready if you want me to turn off the tap.”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.” You nodded. You watched him turn off the spout and slip off his dress pants until he was just in his boxers. He folded them and set them aside before looking up to you. You were still holding your dress against your chest to keep it up, as the back gaped open and the thin straps slipped down your arms.

“Do you need help with that?” Peter asked, pointing to your dress, thinking you might need help taking it off. You thought you could manage, but on second thought you might need help. It was a tight dress and your stylist had helped you into it. You only nodded in response as Peter moved behind you. He gently helped you slip your arms through the straps and pulled the fabric down your body. He gave the fabric a quick tug as it struggled to get past your hips. You were now exposed in front of him. The dress was too tight for you to wear any sort of undergarments. He took you in for a moment before shifting his attention respectfully to the red indentations down your side from where the seams of the dress dug into you.

“Does this hurt?” He asked, gently rubbing his fingers down them.

“Not really,” You shook your head. He reached out his hand to help you into the tub without slipping.

You sank into the warm water as Peter dropped his boxers and joined you. Your eyes went wide at the size of him, and you looked away, a blush slowly crept onto your cheeks.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, a splash of water was hitting your face. You looked back to him in shock, he was sitting back laughing. You flicked your hand through the water, splashing him back.

You moved to do it again, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You knew it was a good idea, if the two of you started going at it again like in the pillow fight, it would lead to a mess and an expensive clean up bill.

“Do they always book rooms this fancy for the galas?” Peter asked, taking in the room once more.

“I don’t know, this was the first time I’ve accepted it.” You shrugged, following his gaze up to the gold crown molding and chandelier.

“Really? I thought you did this all the time.” Peter assumed.

“No, I don’t make it a habit of jumping into tubs with strange men.” You joked.

“That’s not what I meant, and I’m not a strange man, I’m your boyfriend.” He teased as he pulled you towards him. You chuckled and placed your lips onto his quickly before pulling away.

“Say it again.” You smiled. He furrowed his brows for a moment before smiling.

“I’m... your... boyfriend.” He said slowly, placing a kiss on either cheek between words, his lips landing on yours after his last word.

He now had his arms around your waist, pulling you close as your lips collided. When you broke apart for air, he looked down at the necklace around your neck and smiled.

“This is a dream right? I’m dreaming.” Peter shook his head with a goofy grin, not being able to believe his eyes.

“Does this feel like a dream?” You asked, taking both of his hands and placing them onto your breasts. He responded by crashing his lips onto yours, he groaned against your mouth as he pulled you closer.

“It’s nice to know you dream about me Parker.” You quipped with a smirk as you broke apart for air. He chuckled at your cockiness.

“All the time, baby.” He replied, and the pet name rolled off his tongue before he even realized what he said. God you almost melted at the sound. It was your turn to crash your lips against his and let out a moan as his hand traveled down to squeeze your ass.

A knock at the door pulled you both apart as you stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Room service!” A voice called, causing you both to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

The two of you sat at the dining table, both in your white fluffy robes with nearly dripping wet hair.

“God this is so good.” Peter said, stuffing his mouth.

“Mm, I know, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” You said, doing the same. Who knew fancy hotels made burgers and fries this good.

You picked up a fry from your plate, waving it at Peter.

“Ready? Catch.” You said as you threw it across the table as Peter caught it in his mouth.

“Ok your turn,” Peter said, tossing one of his. You leaned to the side, nearly missing it, but catching it in your mouth. You thrust your fists in the air in celebration, causing Peter to chuckle.

The two of you ate and talked, before cleaning up.

“Ugh, I’m so full.” You groaned, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your full stomach, causing Peter to laugh.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Peter asked.

“Oo yeah, we should probably get out of these robes though.” You said, moving from the bed, not wanting to get it all wet.

“Here,” Peter said, moving to his duffle bag and tossing you one of his t-shirts. You slipped it on as he slipped on some boxers and hung up your robes. You glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and smiled. The fabric fell down to the middle of your thigh.

“I like seeing you in my clothes.” Peter smiled as he approached you sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled you into a chaste kiss.

“Cafeul, soon all your sweatshirts are gonna go missing.” You said, making him laugh.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard, and motioned you over to him. You crawled across the bed and laid into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He held the remote in his other hand, scrolling through options on the large screen.

“Have you seen this?” Peter motioned towards the screen.

“That’s my favorite movie.” You chuckled, smiling up at him as he immediately pressed start.

Peter absentmindedly played with your hair as the movie went on. As the credits rolled a few hours later you leaned up to face Peter.

“Thank you for today. As birthdays go, I gotta say this may be my best yet.” You spoke genuinely.

“Well it’s not over yet.” He stated after glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“It’s not?” You smirk, as he pulls you closer.

“I think we were interrupted earlier.” He said slowly, a blush returning to your cheeks as you remembered the events that took place, or almost took place in the bathtub a few hours earlier.

“I think you’re right.” You whispered back, as you climbed onto his lap as his lips intertwined with yours.

You’ve kissed him before, that wasn’t new, but this time something was different. There was a hunger you couldn’t quite describe. His hands began to roam your body, trying to take in every inch of you. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, lifted you, and laid you down onto the bed as Peter now hovered over you.

You gasped at the sudden movement before smiling as Peter lowered his lips to yours once more.

“Y/N,” He said, making you stop and open your eyes, worriedly. Was he ok? Was this too much?

“I’ve never...” He began, nervously.

“That’s ok Peter, we don’t have to-” You tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“I want to, God I want to. I want to make you feel good.” He said, his hand traveling up your shirt and resting on your waist.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

He nodded, muttering a yes as he brought his lips down to you once more, before pulling away.

“Are you?” He asked, making sure this wasn’t one sided.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, taking in the sight of him above you, reaching up to gently move a curl that was falling onto his face, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

And for the first time in your life, you realized why it was called ‘making love’. As much as the phrase made you cringe. As much as you hated when people said that, that was the only way you could think to describe what you and Peter just did. It was sweet but passionate. Peter was gentle yet ruthless in all the right ways. You figured it out together, through the giggles and moans. And as first times go, it was perfect.

For one night you got to be kids. Of course you were adults, just barely. But the two of you had more weight on your shoulders than most adults would ever have. You had responsibilities, that the safety of the city and the world depended on. But for one night, you got to be normal, you got to be kids. For one night you were free, and you cherished it, because neither of you knew how long it would last.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! 

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[vaderssidechick]

Smile Upon The Wretched (Another Boba Fett/Fennec SHand Smut Fic), Part I

I didn’t plan to write another installment of What It Feels Like To Be Queen, but the response I got was so wonderful I decided to keep going with it. Enjoy! Tattoo One and Two were just sinking on the outstretched horizon of the Dune Sea when Fennec Shand glanced away from the silent conversation around the fire pit. The Slave I made for an impressive silhouette against the pink-hued splash of the Tatooine twilight. But she turned her attention back when Boba Fett knocked an armored elbow into her while making an emphatic gesture at the Tusken Chieftain across from them. 

It wasn’t like Shand to get distracted, but without understanding the Tuskens’ sign language, her attention had drifted. The negotiations had been going on for more than an hour, with Fett translating their sign language to her here and there. He’d told her that he explained his offer-- for twenty-five percent of the water located under Jabba’s-- now the Fett-Nec Syndicate’s-- palace, they would serve as their elite Guard on Tatooine. Not only that, Fett offered a sumptuous trading deal as well-- weapons, food, explosives, building materials for permanent domiciles, medical aid. 

But, of course, there were stipulations to the deal besides being their beck-and-call army. No more raiding of “the bare-skins”-- the homesteaders and moisture farmers-- in a four-hundred kilometer radius: The Tuskens would have everything they’d need, there was no need to take. No more killing, and no more kidnapping of the females. Judging from the Chieftain’s volatile signing, Fennec assumed he wasn’t too keen on that part. 

But it was Boba who made the forceful gesture this time, the one that knocked into her ribs. That, and the way he-- quite literally-- put his foot down. She grasped the barrel of her rifle she’d propped between her legs as her eyes darted back and forth between Boba and the Chieftain. “What did he say? Something you didn’t like, I take it.”

Boba blew a breath through his vocoder. “He wants something else on top of everything I offered.”

“What?”

The Mandalorian mask pivoted her way. “ ‘The warrior woman. To breed with. Strong cubs from her’.”

Fennec slit her eyes. “Me?” Fett grunted and nodded once, his shoulders tensing under his spaulders. She clamped down the smirk threatening to spread her lip. “So what did you tell him?”

“I said no, of course,” Fett growled. 

Shand resisted the urge to fondle his thigh, touched as she was by his possessiveness-- but this was a business meeting after all. Instead, she shifted the rifle beside her, leaning it against the rock they sat on, and slowly rose to her feet. “Tell him that while you're flattered, I wouldn’t be much use for that,” she said as she opened her waistcoat, pulled her shirt out of her pants, and exposed the cybernetics embedded in her abdomen.

The Chieftain and his seconds all gestured and grunted wildly at Fennec’s reveal. Fett sighed. “No deal.” The Chieftain signed again, and Fett translated, “They’re still angry about the raid decades ago, when that Jedi-- or whatever he was-- slayed their brethren’s entire encampment. Says he needs females to repopulate the Tuskens. He says the only way he’ll deal with off-worlders is if he gets exactly what he wants.”

Fennec readjusted her garb back in place before dropping onto the rock and blowing out a frustrated sigh. “I thought this would be a lot easier, considering what we’re offering.” 

“They’re a proud, savage people, Fenn. Strength impresses them, not wealth. Why bargain for shit when you can just kill for it?”

She didn’t like that tone in Boba’s gravelly voice, that hint of defeat, it wasn’t like him. But it was clear that he respected these Tuskens, and felt he owed them a debt for saving his life. Not being able to pay it adequately clearly frustrated him. 

But then, she honed in on something he’d just said. “Strength,” she murmured. She turned to him. “What do these people do for entertainment?”

“Fight and fuck,” he answered flatly.

Shand had no intention of doing the latter. “Do they bet on the fights?"

He cocked his helm at her inquisitively. “They do.”

That smirk Fennec suppressed earlier broke through. “Then maybe a wager will persuade them. Go up against their best warrior. If we win, they agree to the deal. If we lose, they get all the water. But nothing more. Either way, it’s a win for them.” 

Boba mulled it over in his mind, but then shook his helm. “Too risky. These aren’t half-assed stormtroopers we’re dealing with here. Besides, I won’t fight these people. They helped me.”

“I wasn’t talking about you,” she said, her stare piercing. 

He shot straight up in his seat and glared at her through that obsidian visor. “You ever fight a Tusken Raider before?”

“Only with a blaster,” she confessed. 

“You know that’s not how they battle,” he growled.

“I know.”

“They fight dirty.”

Well,” she crooned, “that’ll just even the odds, won’t it?”

“Fenn.” The unease in his voice almost startled her. “You don’t have to do this.”

Fennec, despite the Tuskens watching, reached up and caressed the curved lines of Boba’s helmet with the backs of her fingers. “I’ll win, Boba. I got this. You know it.” 

Fett stared at her for a long moment before taking her chin between his gloved thumb and finger. “I know it, cya’rika,” he murmured, brushing that thumb along her jawline. 

She lightly nuzzled her cheek in his hand before snapping away. “Make the bet.”

Suppressing his own grin under his helm, Boba signed at the Chieftain. The Tusken leader looked side to side at his lieutenants, choosing to communicate vocally at them through their signature grunts and howls. After a brief discussion, the Chieftain stood up and signed at Fett. He set his palms on his thighs. “He agrees.”

She grinned. “Excellent.” She got to her feet. Boba rose with her. 

Across the fire, the Chieftain let out a screeching call to the encampment to their left. A scurry of activity followed as the rest of the tribe sought out their best warrior. Fett caught her arm. “Go in the hold and get my gaffi stick,” he rasped into her ear. “It’s custom made, longer with a heavier mace. It’ll give you a longer reach and a wider swing.” 

Fennec nodded… then grasped the back of his helmet and touched her forehead to his. A kesalbe kiss, the custom of the Mandalorian. If the army of their newly formulated underworld syndicate wasn’t on the line, he would have followed her into his ship and bent her over Slave I’s console right then and there. 

Pulling back and giving him her best bedroom eyes, Fennec dropped her hand and made her way to Slave I, the desert kissing her fervent stride with clouds of sand dust.

Boba turned as he heard footsteps come up beside him, finding himself face to rag-wrapped face with the Tusken Chieftain. Normally his hand would go straight to his sidearm when he heard someone approach, but the Tuskens were some of the very few in this galaxy that he trusted: In many ways, he felt more comfortable around them than anyone. They understood each other.

The Tusken just stood looking after Fennec as she disappeared into the Slave’s hold. Finally, the Tusken gestured, “Your woman?” 

The question curled inside Boba’s chest. He’d never laid claim to anyone before, considering himself the sole proprietor of his world. But the Tusken’s blunt assessment made him nod, a gesture known to the Tuskens as ‘yes’. The Tusken glanced back at the ship for a moment, peering at it through his narrow eye-pipes, before turning back and signing, “Strong woman. Loyal woman. Good woman.” 

Fett regarded the Chieftain for a long moment before signing, “Yes.”

[adorethedistance]

Encompassed by You - JJ Maybank x Reader

Requested by @obx-beach​ : “so I love your writing and once you get a chance you should most definitely write a jj maybank x reader soulmate au. I was reading a bunch but have run out and think that you're writing would go well with it!💕 just a thought❤”

Warnings: 1 fuck. That’s it, this is so pg.

Words: 1159 

The luxury of being a kook would mean I work a part time job for a little extra cash, and not to put myself through college since my parents can’t afford all the expenses.

So here I am, the summer before Junior year, finding myself blending apples and juicing lemons, and scrubbing the countertops of a smoothie shop off of figure 8. Don’t be fooled though, working for a dollar above minimum wage isn’t as luxurious as it sounds. I’ve barely reached $3,000. That’s at least textbooks, right?

“Rhoda, I’m not gonna find my soulmate in high school. Do you know how rare that is?” I say to my coworker as I scrub harder on a spot of dried honey.

“My parents met in high school!”

“Well, I’m not your parents,” shrugging sarcastically, I slap the counter with my damp rag. She looks up, unamused, from the spot in front of the counter that she’s mopping.

“All I’m saying is, it’s not impossible.” Rhoda was lucky enough to meet her soulmate last week at the ripe age of 20. I think my parents met at 28, and the average meet-cute age is 27 according to google, so Rhoda got really lucky. I hope I’m just as lucky.

“So what was his symbol?” I ask. Lifting her sleeve, she reveals a blank musical staff that is sitting slightly under her right palm.

“It was seven notes to a melody of the song that was playing when I saw him at the party!” She gushes recalling the night fondly. On a closer look, I can see the time signature reads 6/8 and it sits in the key of E flat.

“That’s seems like it would be an oddly common combination--sheet music--what was the song?”

“Flicker by Niall Horan! Isn’t that just precious?” she says caressing her soulmark in awe.

Glancing down at my own soulmark, the tiny compass frame sits open, sits empty. The center is blank, perfectly framing the ordinary skin of my wrist; the needle and cardinal directions are nowhere to be found. Its position is identical to the image I had 15 minutes ago. Identical to the image I had 15 years ago.

“What if I just never find him? What if my soulmate is halfway across the world, and he doesn’t speak English and he doesn’t have the money to travel to the freakin’ outer banks of all places.”

“Aw, cheer up, buttercup. You’re gonna find your soulmate one day, I promise.” Rhoda’s smile is unfairly contagious and mysteriously always brightens my day. “Who knows, he could be the king of a country- and you could become even more of a queen than you already are!” She cheers. Always looking on the bright side.

When Rhoda finishes her little spiel of excitement, the brass bell above the door rings signifying a new customer. Looking up from the last of the counter-honey residue, I see JJ Maybank. We were table partners for the first week of freshman year environmental science before he was moved to sit directly by the teacher’s desk. Other than that we haven’t really talked ever, which I realize was a mistake, seeing as puberty has done him extremely well.

His blond hair is permanently disheveled, making him resemble Sonic the Hedgehog in the best way. His blue eyes are strikingly contrasted with his sun-kissed skin, no doubt a result from all the time he spends on the open water.

“Oh, I’m sorry we’re closed for the night.” Rhoda looks at me like I’m crazy before stepping in,

“It’s fine, sugar. We can make an exception. What can I get you?” Stepping behind the counter, she logs into her POS and takes down his order. He asks for a medium ‘ocean breeze’ which is coconut water, piña colada syrup, ice, and mango juice concentrate. A fairly simple drink for its price.

As she gives him his total, I turn around to make the drink but I’m stopped by Rhoda grabbing my arm. She gives me a look before suggestively glancing between me and JJ. He doesn’t notice because he’s taking out his wallet-thank god.

She lets go of me and mouths ‘talk to him’ before not-so-subtly throwing me forward towards the register. Then, she heads to the back to grab the ingredients from the fridge and begin preparing the drink. ‘Just because we have destined soulmates doesn’t mean I can’t date around for fun’ was Rhoda’s mantra for the first month and a half that I started working here. College boys are a challenge that slowly changed her mantra over time, but it was still enthusiastically enforced on my life because I ‘don’t have to deal with college boys yet’.

“Uh, 4.09,” I mutter as he hands me a $5 bill. I practically avoid eye contact as I double count the change and hand it to him.

As I reach my right hand forward, I place the change in his left. Our hands brush gently which makes my face heat to 1000 degrees. Why am I so awkward? Pulling my hand back to close the register, JJ’s right hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. The action scares me and I gasp lightly due to fright.

With furrowed brows and wide eyes, I look up to see JJ staring at my wrist. Specifically, at my soulmark. Studying it without a trace of emotion. Following his gaze, it leads to my wrist in his calloused hand. He then hesitantly releases my right arm, and uses the offending hand to pull up the long, white sleeve that covers his own wrist. JJ is probably moving at a normal pace but the tension he’s exuding makes his movements feel like time has slowed to ¼ of it’s normal speed.

He places his left wrist next to my right, connecting them like puzzle pieces. His skin is hot against my cooled arm that hasn’t yet fully recovered from reorganizing the fridge 15 minutes ago.

“What the fuck,” I whisper in disbelief.

JJ’s arm parallel to mine allows me to see his soulmark, as clear as day:

A needle, surrounded by the different markings of the cardinal directions, pointed directly at me in stagnant accusation.

I look up to meet JJ’s crystal blue eyes. He looks calm, at rest, until he sees my shock-consumed expression. His face barely morphs into something like confusion at best. My lips are parted slightly as a remnant of my surprise, but his face does not waver. Neither of us will to speak.

“Alright, we’ve got one ocean bree-” My head snaps to look at Rhoda. When I see her, her jaw is slack on the floor and her eyes are practically bulged out of her skull. She rapidly looks back and forth between my face, our paralleled wrists, and his face.

“Holy shit!” She squeaks nearly dropping the drink. JJ laughs in disbelief as he looks back down to our corresponding soulmarks,

“Fuck man.”

__________________________

A/n: while I love soulmate AU’s this is probably only going to be a 2 or 3 part series just cause I’m focusing my efforts toward YFNS primarily. However, I don’t see why this couldn’t develop into a full series once YFNS is no longer my primary fic. Who knows wtf will happen in the future?

[scrumptious-delusion]

MESS IS MINE [PART 4]

series masterlist

warnings: swearing, some confusing emotions 😳.

length: 3.4k

a/n: this continues straight on from part three. it should also be noted that i know nothing about coney island.

“Look, just forget it alright? Let’s just move on. I’ll see you Friday.”

Your leaving statement replays on a loop inside Bucky’s head, loud enough that he barely registers anything Steve says to him throughout their entire session.

“That’ll do for today.”

Unhearing, Bucky continues to pummel the punching bag.

“Buck, I said that’ll do.”

“Oh.” Dropping his hands, Bucky shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t hear ya.”

Steve hums in response, bending to pick up their equipment.

As his best friend, Steve knew everything, so of course Bucky had told him about what transpired in the parking lot earlier.

His advice had been simple - 

“Listen to her Buck. If she wants to talk about it, she will.”

Just forget it. Move on.

Could he do that?

No.

Bucky couldn’t simply brush over what had happened in the past and act like it hadn’t been wrong, like you hadn’t deserved better. That wasn’t the kind of man Bucky wanted to be.

If you needed him to act indifferent for the time being, then he would. However, that wasn’t going to stop him from trying to make it up to you, or hell, even trying to get you to like him again.

[2 DAYS LATER]

Your heels rhythmically click against the wooden slats of the boardwalk while a cool breeze swirls around the bottom of your dress, making it flutter around your thighs.

Steve had messaged you this morning with an address, stating to meet them there at half past five for dinner.

Google Maps had informed you that your destination was a diner - ‘Peggy’s’ specifically, the name which glows down on you now in large red cursive neon lights.

You can tell the diner is themed before you even enter, though the term ‘themed’ seems inappropriate after you’ve stepped inside.

If you were none the wiser, you could have been fooled into thinking you had just stepped through a time portal to the forties. Especially as some of the customers, along with the staff, are dressed to suit the era.

Everything around you seems to have been plucked from the past - everything except the stunning sketches and oil paintings decorating the walls.

Moving further into the diner, you glance over the artworks placed above each booth, slowing to a stop when your eyes settle on one particularly beautiful painting.

It depicts a couple dancing in a park at night, under the glow of a lamppost while the stars twinkle above them. The scene tugs at your heart.

Stepping closer to admire it more, you’re not surprised to find Steve’s signature sitting in the bottom right corner. The same corner a price tag hangs from.

So this is where he sells his art.

“You know, I reckon Steve would give ya a discount.”

There’s no need to turn around, you know who it is.

“Yeah? What do you think, fifty percent off?”

Nice. You praise yourself internally.

This was letting go and moving on. This was having a simple, harmless conversation.

Just like old friends would.

Bucky lets out a low whistle, “Nah, he’s too much of a tight ass… I’d say ten percent.”

A smile breaks across your face, laughter bubbling in your throat.

“Fuck off, like I’d make her pay.”

Now you turn around.

“Thanks Stevie.” You grin.

Knocking Bucky’s shoulder, Steve discloses “You on the other hand, I’d charge double asshole.”

“What makes you think I’d even want your shit art?”

The pair begin bickering, finally pulling the laughter out of you.

Some things never change.

“They’re worse than children.” A feminine voice states.

Is that a British accent?

Turning towards the speaker, you’re momentarily stunned by the woman you see.

Not one strand of her short, wavy brown hair sticks out of place. It just rests delicately against the shoulders of her dress, which is hugging her hips perfectly.

Matching many of the objects around the diner, her lips are painted a bold red, making them stand out as much as her big brown eyes.

You can’t tell if the emotion flooding you is envy or love. Maybe both.

“Absolutely.” You hope she doesn’t notice your brief pause. “You must be Peggy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, I’ve heard a lot about you.” She smiles.

“Oh.” Flustered by the statement, you joke “Good things I hope.”

“The best.” Peggy promises, her lips twisting into a smirk that screams mischief.

Choosing to ignore it, you change the subject entirely.

“Your diner is amazing.”

Glancing around her fondly, she replies “Thank you, I’m very proud of it.”

“Yeah, the only letdown is the art choice.”

Both of you turn to look at Bucky, an equally unimpressed look on both of your faces.

“Easy,” Bucky soothes, raising his hands. “I was kidding.”

Steve smiles in triumph at Bucky’s surrender while Peggy suggests “How about we go sit down? I reserved the table out back.”

Out back?

Bucky falls in step beside you as Steve and Peggy lead the way and your curiosity must show on your face because he tells you “It’s real pretty, you’re gonna love it.”

Remaining polite, you tilt your head up and give a small smile.

You hadn’t actually taken notice of Bucky’s appearance until now and you realise that this is the first time you’ve seen him out of boxing attire.

His chest is covered by a black t-shirt that’s probably a little tighter than it needs to be. Combined with dark denim jeans, it’s irritating how good Bucky can make an outfit so underwhelmingly basic look.

Like that night in the ring, his hair is tied back in a low bun and his face is freshly shaven. Due to your close proximity you can smell his aftershave.

You decide to focus on the backs of Steve and Peggy until you’re escorted through to an enclosed outdoor area.

The vintage atmosphere is continued out here with soft oldie’s music and the furniture choices, but it feels like you’re at a garden party. 

Vines wrap around the latticework enclosing the area while flowers of various colours bloom all over. There are fairy lights strung along the roof and woven amongst the plants but due to the early hour you’re only left to imagine how beautiful it must look all lit up.

Bucky was right, you adore it.

A large circular table waits in the middle of the space, surrounded by white garden chairs. You choose to sit beside Peggy, leaving Bucky to take a seat on your left, next to Steve.

The moment everyone is seated a waitress appears with water and menus. Naturally you ask Peggy for her suggestions, only to end up watching with an amused smile as she orders for the whole table. 

You don’t mind in the slightest. If you were to trust anyone with ordering, it’d be the owner.

Once the waitress - Sharon, has left with the table’s orders, you take the opportunity to ask your most pressing question.

“Alright, how did you and Steve meet?” You look at Peggy, knowing she’ll most likely give the best recount of the story.

Steve smiles through a sigh.

“Well,” Peggy begins “I was going in and out of art galleries around Brooklyn trying to find an artist with works I loved enough to put up around the diner.” She shoots Steve a dazzling smile, “It was pure chance that Steve had his first show on while I was looking.”

“I fell in love with his work the moment I saw it, a similar feeling I had when I met the artist.” She teases, reaching across the table to give Steve’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “I was constantly setting up the most pointless meetings with him about the diner and his art hoping he’d ask me out, but after two weeks it took one rather big nudge from me before he finally did.” Peggy laughs.

Steve’s cheeks turn red as he rolls his eyes, murmuring something you can’t hear.

“At least she didn’t have to put up with his pining every single day for those two weeks.” Bucky mutters, taking a sip of water.

A huff of laughter escapes you quietly, the lovebirds too absorbed in each other to hear Bucky’s words.

“So, how long have you been in Brooklyn for?” Peggy asks you, looking away from Steve.

“I’m coming up on six months.”

“Where were you previously?”

“California,” You smile wistfully. “I was offered a job here after graduation and I wanted to be somewhere closer to home.”

“Your dad must be happy.” Steve remarks.

“He is, though I don’t really visit him as much as I should.” You admit.

Thinking on it further, you realise you haven’t seen your father since you first moved to Brooklyn.

Shit, that long?

Bucky hums, “I haven’t seen Ma in ages.”

“We gotta go visit Winnie sometime soon.” Steve declares.

Seems like all three of you owed your hometown an overdue visit.

“College… in California?”

Nervous, you begin rambling. “It’s just an idea, I know there’s still two years of high school left but I thought I should start thinking about what -”

“Hey, hey.” Your father cuts in, resting his hands on your shoulders with a soft smile. “I was just surprised honey, California sounds great.”

Giving a hesitant smile, you test “Really?”

You weren’t being completely honest when you told him it was “just an idea” - it was your dream. There wasn’t any particular college you wanted to attend, you just needed it to be not here.

What better place to choose than somewhere on the other side of the country?

This town was your home and it always would be, but you wanted to experience somewhere that wasn’t “just down the road”. The biggest problem with living in one small place since birth was that life became predictable - boring even. 

You craved something different, something new and exciting.

Maybe your father could see that.

“Of course, it’s your life honey, I’m just along for the ride.”

Grinning now, you throw your arms around him in a hug, gripping tightly.

The four of you step out onto the boardwalk laughing, the conversation still rolling fast from dinner, consisting mostly of funny and consequently, embarrassing stories.

You’re all heading down to the rides and games Coney Island is popular for, chasing some fun before having to head off at eight.

The wind has picked up since you first arrived, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea and sound of crashing waves. That is before it’s drowned out by the screams of thrill seekers and smell of popcorn.

“Should you be doing this sort of stuff before a match?” You ask Bucky, following behind Peggy as she drags a reluctant Steve towards the Cyclone.

“I’ll be fine as long as I back off around seven.”

You nod in response. It was almost half past six now, and a two hour rest period sounded sensible.

The line you join isn’t too long, a few minutes wait at best. Once again, Steve and Peggy are enraptured by one another, leaving you to carry a conversation with Bucky.

“Are you nervous?”

“Are you nervous?”

You both laugh in surprise before Bucky clarifies “I was talking about the ride…”

“I was talking about your match.”

Bucky ah’s, facing ahead. “Of course not.”

When a few moments of silence pass, he looks back down at you.

Your raised eyebrows inform him that you’re unsatisfied with his answer and clearly waiting for a better one.

Bucky laughs - a real one this time, and your lips lift in a smile, just like they always have at the sound.

“Maybe I should hire you as my manager,” Bucky jokes. “You’re showing more concern for my pre-match state than Tony is yet.”

The conversation is briefly paused while the two of you are directed by a staff member to stand behind a gate.

“I know I can win,” Bucky continues afterwards. “I’m quicker, so as long as I stay focused in the ring and read him right, it’ll be peachy.”

That’s a better answer.

“Now,” He says as the gate swings open and you both move forward. “Your turn to answer my question.”

“I love roller coasters.” You state, sitting down. “But I’m always nervous at the start.”

Bucky lowers himself down beside you and due to the small size of the carriage his entire right side is pressed against your left. 

He’s really warm.

“Wanna hold hands then?” Bucky teases, just like he always used to with you. “No shame in it, Steve held mine on his first go.”

“I did not!” Steve defends from the carriage in front of you.

You laugh so hard at the mental image Bucky has provided that your eyes water.

Gripping the lap bar after Bucky pulls it down, you smile “I prefer to hold onto this, thanks.”

“Alright,” He shrugs with a grin. “I’m here if you change your mind.” 

Holding onto the lap bar as well, he places his right hand but an inch from your left.

It’s there, in a cramped space overwhelmed by so much… Bucky, you almost forget everything.

You almost can’t remember anyone who isn’t the man looking over at you right now. You almost feel like no time has passed, like it’s still five years ago when you lived by the simple truth that life was perfect, even if it wasn’t, because you had Bucky.

You almost reach over and take his hand.

“The Ferris wheel! We can’t leave without going on that.” Peggy insists, pointing at the giant rotating circle.

Steve looks down at his watch and nods. “We’ve got enough time, the line looks short and we’ll leave after.”

Peggy turns to Bucky. “It’s nothing crazy either, you can come with us.”

“Nah,” Shaking his head, Bucky pushes his hands into his jean pockets. “I’ll just wait down here with this one.”

Surprised, you meet Bucky’s gaze and he offers you a rare shy smile.

He remembers.

Peggy’s eyebrows furrow with confusion until you explain “I don’t like heights.”

You love roller coasters, something you learnt during your years in California. A discovery that shocked you, given your fear. Maybe it was because they went fast and you were harnessed, you weren’t exactly sure.

Ferris wheels however…

You were seventeen and the annual fair had come to town. Somehow, you had let Steve and Bucky convince you to go on the Ferris wheel with them. Well, Bucky had a lot to do with it, but that wasn’t important.

Wanda had been rightly surprised by your decision and opted to wait on the ground with a knowing smirk.

Steve and Bucky soon realised how much you had been downplaying your “dislike of heights” once you started crying when the cage stopped at the top of the wheel. The whole ordeal had been mortifying, to say the least.

The fact that Bucky still actively recalls such a trivial piece of information is unexpected.

“That’s right.” Steve recollects, a grin creeping across his face.

Yep, now he remembers too.

“Shut up Rogers.” You warn before he can utter another word.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.” He sings, grabbing Peggy’s hand and whisking her off towards the wheel of torture, no doubt already recounting the story to her.

Sighing, you turn to face Bucky and jest “I’ll allow you ten seconds of laughter.”

Instead of bantering back like you expect, he simply states “There’s nothing to laugh about, you were scared.”

Bucky’s earnestness throws you off, especially with the way he’s looking at you, his mouth twitching like there’s something else he wants to say but knows he shouldn’t.

It scares you enough that you start looking around, searching for something to change the topic.

“Teddy bears.” You breathe out. “They’re so cute.”

Honestly it’s the most random thing you could have commented on, but Bucky doesn’t seem overly fazed by your words, simply twisting to look at them too.

“I’ll win you one.”

With just four words the tension that was rising seconds ago fizzles away, replaced by the friendly, teasing air that has been building over the last few hours.

“Strong words.” You retort.

“Good thing I’m about to back them up then.” Bucky grins.

Strolling over to the game booth, you hum “We’ll see.”

Bucky pays the attendee who then places four basketballs in front of him.

“Three balls in the net to win.” The pimply teen drones, not even attempting to cover their boredom.

Picking up a basketball, Bucky makes a show of taking a deep breath before rolling his shoulders and neck, clearly for no real purpose other than to amuse you.

It works because much to your horror, you giggle.

How long has it been since I did that?

When he finally throws the ball, it lands straight in the net.

You award him with a short round of applause. The attendee doesn’t even look up from their phone.

Bucky’s second shot follows the path of the first. His third however, hits the backboard and bounces off to the side.

“Uh-oh Barnes, guess you should stick with boxing.” You taunt with a smirk.

Lining up his fourth and final shot, Bucky offhandedly responds “Don’t give up on me yet angel.”

The pet name he issues you so casually catches you off guard and you miss the ball going in.

“Not to say I told you so, but I did.”

Blinking to break the stupor you had unknowingly entered, you take in Bucky standing before you with a wide, boyish grin.

“I got you the blue one.”

The one you wanted.

“Thank you.” Smiling genuinely, you accept the prize. “I guess you were right.”

Bucky laughs at the look of distaste you make after the words leave your mouth. 

Moving away from the game booth and back towards the Ferris wheel, he muses “I thought those words would taste bad.”

“Terrible.” You confirm as the two of you come to a standstill out of the way of foot traffic to wait for Peggy and Steve.

“How about we just call it luck?” Bucky proposes, looking down at you.

You can’t help but think he’s trying to make a reference to you, but regardless you quietly agree “Alright.”

Silence falls between you but it’s comfortable, not awkward or strained.

Intrigued by the individuals around you, your eyes are flicking from one spot to the next, hence why you catch Bucky as he scrunches up his nose and gives a small shake of his head.

After riding the Cyclone you had noticed that some of Bucky’s hair had fallen loose from his bun and this marked at least the tenth time you’ve caught him trying to flip away one particularly annoying strand.

You have no idea why he doesn’t just tuck it behind his ear or hell, redo his bun.

Dumb man.

Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you push yourself up on the tips of your toes and lift your hand to tuck the strand securely behind his ear, your fingertips brushing against his cheek in the process.

Bucky’s eyes widen almost comically at the action, his mouth parting slightly as you bring your hand back down.

Your skin flushes hot as you rattle your brain for something to say.

Why did I do that?

It feels like your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest.

“Uh, I could see it was annoying you.” You reason poorly.

Licking his lips, Bucky responds with a simple “Thanks.”

You can’t help but notice the deeper tone of his voice.

“Ready to go?”

Steve’s question startles you both, making you flinch.

“Yep!” You announce, a little too enthusiastically.

“Lovely bear.” Peggy compliments.

Gazing down at the bear that you’re squeezing awfully tight against your chest, you respond “Yeah, Bucky won it.”

Something tells you she already knew that.

“Do you know how to get there?” Steve asks you as you all start walking.

“I got Maps.”

“Nonsense.” Peggy intervenes, “I’ll be your navigator.” Strolling over to your side, she loops her arm through yours.

“Okay.” You smile, happy to have her join you.

The trek to the carpark is filled with idle chatter while you make sure to look at everything and everyone who isn’t Bucky.

With every step you take, you can’t help but repeat one question over and over in your head.

What have I gotten myself into?