#but he told me and i was like me too but like

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Giving the nerd a chance

tags: nerd!nanami/fem!reader, college!au, nsfw, dirty talk, asphyxiation, size kink, mdni!!

a/n: this one’s a long one :) pace yourself and enjoy!

Kento Nanami is a social enigma. He is a total outlier but in the weirdest way possible.

This man is conventionally attractive. Some would even go as far to say Nanami’s handsome, almost in a filthy way. His looks are sneaky too. He’s not someone you’d immediately notice in a room, but once you did…

You would notice his sculpted jaw line first. Then, his naturally high cheekbones that gave way to his soft hazel eyes. He had a serious look on his face always, but his eyes told a different story. Maybe you’d notice his blonde hair that sat neatly on his head, styled with an undercut. Yeah, Nanami was fucking hot.

But that’s not the weird part. No, you haven’t heard him utter a single word except to answer the professor’s unanswered questions once the silence was unbearable.

That’s not exactly weird either. There are tons of people who go through college without the intention of making friends… but Nanami has friends. He doesn’t just have like one friend. No, he’s apart of a friend group.

The weirdest part was he seemed to be close with the most popular guy in your university, star quarterback Satoru Gojo. Gojo was seemingly every college girl’s wet dream. He’s the type to stand out in a room. His looks and personality demand attention.

He’s the complete opposite from Nanami.

Then, there was Suguru Geto… Geto was also a strange friend for Nanami to have. Geto was smart, funny, and well-mannered… when he was in class. But you’ve seen how Geto acts at parties. He smokes cigarettes, shotguns whiskey, and keeps up with all of Gojo’s antics. Shoko was the exact same way, except she didn’t care enough to keep up with Gojo’s buffoonery.

They were the complete opposite from Nanami as well.

Yu Haibara was a cutie patootie. He’s also a sweet social butterfly. Another one of Nanami’s friends that just didn’t seem to be his type.

You caught yourself staring at the friend group as you’re sitting on a couch at a frat house. Your college team just won the game, so Satoru had invited a whole slew of people over. You somehow made it on that list. Your friend, Utahime, is begging you to leave, but something is telling you to stay.

“Go on without me, Uta. I’ll be fine, promise.” You say over the music as you flash her a small smile to assure her.

“I really, really, really don’t want to leave you here alone, yn. I don’t want you to end up on the front page of the news.”

“Don’t wish that shit upon me.” You laugh as you gently nudge her arm, urging her towards the door.

“I’m serious, yn. Please text me. If you’re not back in the dorm by midnight, I’m calling the cops.” She says as she grabs your shoulders, forcing you to face her directly.

You admire your friend’s caring demeanor, but she was being a total cock block for you right now.

“I will text you. I promise.” You assure her once again. “Go back to the dorm. Love you.”

She sighs deeply as she lets you go. She’s still not comfortable with the idea of leaving you here, but she can’t force you to leave. “Love you too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Oh, that’s all I’m gonna do.” You smirk as she flips you off and leaves the frat house.

You take a drink from your red solo cup to gather your nerves. Nanami has been sitting in the corner of the kitchen all night. He’s alone, but he doesn’t look lonely. Sometimes, Satoru will drunkenly slouch his weight onto the blonde and slur something inaudible to him. From what you can see, Nanami just rolls his eyes and shrugs his friend off his shoulders.

You want to approach him, but you’re still too afraid he won’t talk to you. As you sit down your cup, an intoxicated Satoru is standing over you.

“I’m sorry- I don’t remember your name.” He gives you a slanted smile as he crouches down a bit so you two are face-to-face.

“That’s okay. I don’t remember yours either.” You snip back with a small grin. Something sparkles in his eyes as you give him a little bit of a challenge. He finds it to be endearing.

“Cheeky. Give me your number.” He demands, keeping his smirk on his face.

“Why should I give it to you?”

“Because it’s not for me.” He slurs as he leans in close to you. He nods his head towards the kitchen. “I’m doing this for my pussy friend over there.”

Your eyes dart towards Nanami. His eyes are glaring holes into Satoru with more anger and emotion than you’ve ever seen from him. Your stomach swirls with butterflies.

“That is a really good reason.” You murmur as you quickly type your number into Satoru’s phone.

*** *** ***

It had been days since the frat party and not a single word from Nanami. Your excitement had honestly fizzled out into sulking. Were you not good enough for him? Did Satoru lie? Was it all a sick prank?

Not even Utahime could get you in a good mood.

“Yn. This is so ridiculous. If you like him that much, just go up and talk to him.” She chides

“Noooo.” You groan into your pillow as you turn onto your stomach in your bed. “He’s too cool. Out of my league.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Kento Nanami? The nerd who barely ever talks? The know-it-all in class?”

“Utahimeee.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Let me wallow in my self pity.” You gripe before you hear your phone buzz. The sound of your phone notifying you doesn’t even excite you anymore. It’s always some lame ass notification.

Unknown Number: Is this yn?

Your eyes widen as you stare at your phone in disbelief. Your body involuntarily sits up in bed, startling Utahime.

“Jesus Christ. What? What happened?”

“He texted me!” You beam proudly. You are embarrassing. Utahime scoffs and walks away from you, unable to take the second-hand embarrassment.

Yn: Yeah, that’s me :)

Unknown Number: This is Kento Nanami. I’m sorry Gojo felt the need to disturb you at the party. 

Yn: No need! He didn’t disturb me too much.

Nanami: That’s good to hear.

God. Now, what do you say? Of course Nanami is a dry texter. You stare at the text conversation for a while, trying to think of something.. anything to break the ice.

Yn: Did you ask him to get my number, or did he do that on his own volition?

Nanami: Gojo does things on his own volition.

Yn: Ah.. I see.

He left you on read.

Goddammit.

You had your chance, and now, you blew it. Sighing, you lock your phone and try to forget he even ever texted you in the first place.

*** *** ***

I mean, who even needs Nanami? He’s really not even that handsome or mysterious. You keep telling yourself as you get ready to go to another party Gojo invited you too.

Oh, also, Gojo kept your number for himself as well. He mostly asked to copy your notes when Nanami refused to let him copy his notes. He would also send the occasional invitation to one of his signature parties.

This one was apparently labeled as “exclusive”. You had no idea what that meant, but you weren’t allowed to bring a plus-one this time.

Luckily for you, Utahime was visiting back home for the weekend, so she couldn’t scold you for going out to another party this weekend.

Black eyeliner was smeared across your waterline, and you puckered your lips as you carefully applied some sheer gloss. You decided to be casual with your outfit, wearing a basic off-shoulder black top with some jeans.

As soon as you got to the frat house, you quickly understood what “exclusive” meant. It was only their closest friends in the house. Satoru and Haibara were on the couch, lounging. Suguru and Shoko were sitting by the window, sharing a cigarette. Nanami was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, looking as stoic as ever. Immediately, you were grateful for going with a more casual look.

“Yn! So glad you made it!” Satoru grinned in a more sober voice than the last time you spoke with him.

“Am I imposing on something?” You ask as you close the door.

“Of course not, silly. I sent you an invite for a reason.” Satoru says casually as he pats the spot between him and Haibara on the couch. “Come have a seat. Get comfortable. We’re just hanging out tonight.”

You stare at the seat between Gojo and Haibara, and you decide to sit in the open chair next to them instead.

“Afraid that we might bite?” Gojo grins as he leans over the arm of the chair towards you.

“Stop it, Satoru. You’re going to scare her away.” Shoko scolds before taking a drag off her cigarette.

Your phone gently buzzes in your pocket as Satoru and Shoko begin to bicker about his social skills. You sneakily check your phone.

Nanami: You look pretty tonight.

OH. We are so back, baby.

Yn: Thank you :) You look as handsome as ever.

Nanami: Oh yeah?

It is so small and insignificant, but that little “oh yeah?” makes your stomach flutter with excitement.

“Yn?” You snap your attention up to Shoko and realize she has been trying to talk to you.

“Shit- sorry. What’s up?”

Your phone lightly buzzes again, and you quickly glance down to check.

Nanami: You’re blushing.

“I was asking what your major is.” Shoko smiles calmly as she’s sat upon the windowsill. She flicks her cigarette outside before blowing out a cloud of smoke. You try to ignore how your heart is skipping beats right now.

“Oh, I’m just in general studies right now. I’m kind of indecisive. What about you?”

“I’m pre-med right now.” Shoko answers.

“I thought you swapped to nursing.” Haibara asks as he shifts his body to face her. The two start conversing together, giving you a chance to check your phone.

Nanami: Are you ill, or do my words just affect you that much?

Yn: I’m actually ill.

Nanami: You’re also apparently a liar, sweetheart.

How the fuck was this man so bold over text, but wouldn’t speak to hardly anyone in person?

Yn: Sweetheart? I didn’t know we were on that sort of level yet.

Nanami: Does that make you uncomfortable?

Yn: No

Nanami: Good. Then don’t complain.

The throb your cunt just did should’ve been illegal. There was no reason for you to be so turned on by that, but you were.

Yn: What would you have done had I said that it did make me uncomfortable?

Nanami: I would’ve found you a nickname you were more comfortable with.

He was being sweet, and you were over there clenching around nothing like a whore.

You had been so caught up in your phone that you didn’t realize Yu had went and gotten everyone a beer out of the fridge. You decide to risk a glance at Nanami. He looked calm and composed. You wondered if he even knew the effect he had on you truly.

“Shoko, when are you finally going to get some bitches?” Satoru asks with a laugh. Your eyes widen as you notice Suguru is on his lap now. You had really been so distracted by your phone…

“At this rate, I think Nanami will beat me.” Shoko laughed as she took a drink of her beer. You shift slightly in your seat as Shoko cuts her eyes towards you with a small grin.

Nanami: I will

Yn: Will what?

Nanami: I will beat her.

Yn: Confident or competitive?

Nanami: Both.

Yn: You didn’t strike me as the type.

Nanami: You don’t think I can do it?

Yn: I never said that.

Nanami lays his phone on his lap, and you can feel his eyes trailing up and down your body. Feeling your heart skip a beat, you decide to look up at him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you glance over him. He looks relaxed. His head is propped up in his hand, and he’s almost giving you a lazy smile.

Knowing more about Nanami, you recognize it as a cocky smile now.

The rest of the “party” goes without a hitch. You decided it was time to leave once Suguru and Satoru were obnoxiously making out, Shoko was asleep on the floor, and Haibara wouldn’t shut the fuck up about the intricacies of anime.

“I’m gonna head back to my dorm now. Thanks for inviting me.” You say quickly as you stand from your seat.

“Hey yn-!” Satoru says as he tugs from Suguru’s lips. The dark-haired male made quick work of moving down to his neck. “Thanks for coming. You should come out here more often.”

“Oh um, I’ll think about it.” You smile politely as you head out the front door. The cold night air nips at your skin. The only light was from the moon high up in the sky. The dorms were a few blocks away.

You never like walking alone at night, but you try to remember that college campuses have security patrolling at all times. Taking a deep shaky breath, you step off the porch.

The sound of the door closing again immediately startles you. You quickly flinch and look towards the frat house. Nanami was calming walking up to you.

“Let me walk you back.” His voice was calm and steady, just like his presence. He really wasn’t phased at all by your subtle flirting earlier?

“Thanks.. I was actually kinda scared.” You mumble as you two walk side by side on the pavement. Your arms hug your body, trying to hide from the snippy air.

“Why didn’t you ask one of us to walk you home then?” Nanami asks as he slips his coat off from his shoulders. He then loosely drapes it over your shoulders. You feel your heart skip a beat as you mumble a quick thanks. Your body snuggled into his coat as it swallowed your frame whole. It was the first time you realized… Nanami is a big man. He’s not just some scrawny nerd. He’s actually pretty well built.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” You answer quietly, noticing how Nanami shoves his hands into his pockets while you two walk.

“That’s foolish. We invited you. The least we could do is make sure you make it home safely.”

“We?”

Nanami goes silent, and he looks away from your shorter self. The wind blows harshly, making the leaves crinkle and hiss on the trees.

“Yes, we.” He finally answers your question. You smile softly as you look down towards the ground. It seems like Satoru wasn’t the only one who wanted you around.

Standing in front of your dorm door, you slowly slip the coat off from around your shoulders and try to hand it back to him. “I don’t want it.” He answers calmly, making no effort to take the jacket back from you.

“It’s yours, silly.”

“And?”

“Take it.” You gestured the coat to him once more

“No, I want you to have it.” He says as he towers over you. You subconsciously take a step back to create space, and your back hits the door. He leans over you, having to angle his back to see eye-to-eye with you. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your cheek as he cocks his head towards your ear and neck. “Text me.” He murmurs lowly before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You were left against your door blushing madly as he casually sauntered away.

*** *** ***

You almost think you dreamt that kiss up come Monday morning. You hadn’t texted him all weekend, not even knowing what to say. You felt scared about messing things up and taking his advances the wrong way. He hadn’t reached out to you either.

You were sitting in Neurology, half-ass paying attention as the professor lectured about neuron pruning. Nanami sat a few rows over. He always appeared to he intently listening when you glance over at him. You perk up as you feel your phone buzz on your thigh.

Nanami: You’re not going to do well if you don’t pay attention.

Yn: I could say the same for you.

Nanami: Could you?

Yn: …. point taken

Nanami: You know, you could’ve at least texted me if you didn’t like the kiss.

Yn: Who said I didn’t?

Nanami: So, you disobey my request for fun?

Yn: Disobey is such a strong word. You told me to text you, and I just.. haven’t yet.

Nanami: We’ll come back to the disobedience topic. Why haven’t you texted me “yet”?

Yn: Nervous.

Nanami: You’re adorable. What’s there to be nervous about?

“Can anyone name an example of synaptic pruning?” The professor’s sudden loud voice catches you off guard. You hadn’t been paying attention at all, and you feel your heart start to race at the thought of being randomly called upon.

“Anyone?” The professor asks once again. “Yn-“ She almost says your first name before Nanami interrupts.

“Crown thinning.” He answers the question, saving you from total embarrassment.

“Very good. Thank you, Kento.” The professor praises as she turns back around to start lecturing from the powerpoint again.

Yn: You totally just saved me.

Nanami: Pay better attention.

Yn: Then stop texting me.

Nanami: No.

Nanami: Answer my question. Why were you nervous?

Yn: I just didn’t want to say the wrong things.

Nanami: You’re hopeless.

Yn: You’re starting to sound like Utahime :(

Nanami: Will you coo to me that you love me if I act like her?

You feel your heart start to race as you read his text over and over. He was way more observant than you gave him credit for. You couldn’t even think of a time where you told Uta that you loved her in front of him.

Yn: Is that what you want?

Nanami: That does sound nice. Though, I think I’d rather hear you breathlessly professing your love to me.

oh…

oh.

You sat your phone down. No way were you going to let some simple words over a screen let you get horny in class. You didn’t dare to glance in his direction as you suddenly decided to start paying attention and taking detailed notes on Neurology.

Nanami: You’re blushing again.

Damn him and his observant personality. Damn him and his filthy words that make you squeeze your thighs together to soothe the ache.

Yn: I’m well aware.

Nanami: It’s cute. Makes me want to say more things just to get a reaction out of you.

Yn: Please don’t

Nanami: Why? Scared you might like it?

Nanami: Scared you might like the thought of being beneath me, begging for more?

Jesus. There was no misinterpreting that. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared down at your phone, rereading his message over and over. It painted a picture in your brain.

Yn: As if you could make me do that.

Nanami: I can, and I will. Come over tonight.

Yn: To the frat house?

Nanami: No, to my room. I’ll tell Haibara to not come back until late.

Yn: That seems rather rude.

Nanami: It’s far better than the treatment you’ll be receiving later.

Your head feels like it’s spinning as the professor dismisses class. The rest of the day drags by painfully slow as you feel every little heartbeat and flutter in your chest. Nanami talked big game for someone who seemed too shy to really speak to you. It made you feel intrigued. How could he be so confident in his ability to make you beg?

You took your time once you were back at your dorm: going through your everything-shower routine. You wanted to make sure that every inch of you was soft and smooth just in case! It’s not like he’s actually going to make you do anything.

Knocking on his door, you feel your stomach churn with anxiety. You two seemed to be doing better at keeping up a conversation, but you were still deathly afraid of that awkward silence sinking in.

The click of the lock gains your attention, and Nanami opens the door for you. “Come in.” He says flatly, moving out of the way of the door so you can squeeze past him. He’s wearing his usual button-up shirt with black slacks on. How does this man even relax?

Of course his room is completely clean. His bed was even made military style for crying out loud. What the fuck does this man know about making women beg?

“Your room is nice.” You compliment, trying not to sound too awkward.

“It’s a room.” He shrugs nonchalantly before his eyes travel your body.

“How did you tell Haibara not to come home?” You ask, and he gives you a slightly puzzled look.

“I told him the truth.” He says as he loosens his tie from around his neck.

You swallow harshly as you watch his slender fingers pull at the fabric. His jaw is perfectly sculpted along with his neck, and his adams apple bobs as he steps towards you.

“Which is?” You reluctantly ask.

“I told him not to come home unless he planned on watching me fuck a pretty girl to tears.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you stare up at him with almost a frightened gaze. His movement feels much more predatory now as if he’s been watching you for a while, sizing you up. He had observed and stood by, waiting for the prime opportunity to pounce.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?” Nanami asks as he steps forward again. The back of your knees hits his bed, and his smile shifts to a lopsided grin.

“No. I just…” You had no idea what to even say to that! You weren’t use to a man so confidently bolstering about his skills without sounding like a total idiot. Nanami was a rarity. He could talk the talk and walk the walk.

“No. I just..” He mocks you. “You’re awfully nervous for someone I haven’t even touched yet.” His fingers gently caress over your collarbone, before he carefully nudged you back. You tipped over and found yourself sitting on his bed, looking up at him with big round eyes.

“Christ. Have you ever even done this before?” He asks as he leans over you. His hand press down on the mattress at both of your sides, effectively trapping you beneath him.

“Yes!” You exclaim with a huffy attitude that makes him chuckle. “Have you?” You ask, trying to even the score.

“No.” He responds before closing the distance between you two. His lips press against yours and move delicately. Your eyes widen before you realize what was going on, and you slowly melt into the kiss.

Lips smack together as he takes the lead on the kiss. His hands gently cup and caress their way down your body before resting upon your hips. His knee finds it’s way between your thighs, and he applies pressure to your core.

Stifling a small whine, you entangle your fingers through his blonde hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be. His kisses are growing more and more demanding as he’s pushing you back onto the bed more and more.

He gently bites at your lip, and he applies more pressure with his knee. As soon as you let another another small whimper, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He’s taking complete and utter advantage over your body while you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact he said “no”. He’s claiming to have never done this before.

His thumbs dig into your hipbones before he makes you grind against his knee.

“That’s right. Use me.” He purrs lowly, encouraging for you to keep rolling your hips. Once you found a steady rhythm, rubbing yourself against his knee like a desperate slut, he releases your hips and grabs your wrists, pinning you down to the bed.

“Ken..” You gasp out lowly, and he immediately eats up your words, forcing his lips right back upon yours.

The grinding was slowly making you feel all dizzy in the head as you slowly start to mess up your rhythm. He immediately notices your messy state. His hands leave your wrists to grab back ahold of your thighs to make sure you don’t stop. If his slacks weren’t black, he was sure there would be a small damp spot on his leg from your delicious juices.

“Hah~” You gasp as you lean your head back.

“Does that feel good?” He questions lowly before carefully nipping at your neck.

“Yes… Yes, Kento.. more..”

“Oh, what was that, darling? I didn’t hear you.” He taunts as he bites his way down your neck.

“M-more!” You whimper out as you grow impatient.

“So greedy…” He murmurs before his sucks a small hickey on your neck all while he’s still making you grind your pitiful pussy against his thigh. “Beg.”

You feel that defiant nature wanting to kick in. You were needy for him, but you weren’t to the point of begging yet.

“Did you hear me? I said beg.” He demands as he forces you down on his leg harder. Your legs tremble around him as he’s making you rock hack and forth.

“Please-“ You finally choke out against your defiant nature. “I-I.. want more, please… I need you to.. to ruin me.”

“Ruin you, hm?” He asks as his hand carefully trails upwards to your neck. He applies just a bit of pressure. “A pretty girl like you asking for me to ruin her… How could I say no?”

He removes his leg from between your leg, and he quickly replaces it with his hand. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth of your leggings. You immediately shudder from the new stimulation. You hold his gaze as he lightly chokes you.

“I think I want to see you come on my fingers first.” He says as he’s quick to shove your leggings and panties down. You gasp quietly as you look down at him. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and he has a determined look on his face. He was set on making you come with his hand.

You push your thighs together with a small whine as he gives your glistening cunt an amorous gaze. Nanami places his hands on both of your knees as he forces your legs back apart. “Now, you know why you came here. What are you running from?”

“I- … You’re looking at me like…” the words ‘like you want to eat me’ die upon your tongue. His aura is just so.. almost intimidating. Not in a scary way, just in a he’s-not-here-to-play way.

“You’re so pretty, but gods, you’re so confusing.” He shakes his head as he carefully drags his tongue up your slippery folds. “Just sit still and let me take care of you, darling.” He mumbles before he laps at your cunt again. He purses his lips and gently sucks on your clit. It almost feels like he’s making out with your pussy.

“Oh.. f-fuck..” You gasp as you lean your head back into his mattress. Your hands fist at the blanket beneath you, ruining his perfectly made bed.

Nanami continues to lick and suck. The sounds in the room were nothing short of erotic. The wet sounds of his lips and tongue smack and almost slurp at you. His hands hold your thighs up, practically wearing them as earmuffs as he eats you like a starved man.

His fingertip gently traced over your opening before he carefully slipped a finger in. He continued to lap at your cunt as his finger pumped in and out and prodded around.

“Oh my-! .. N-Nanami.. ah~” You pant out. In his eyes, your entire body was flushed. You were so subtly grinding yourself against his tongue. In his eyes, you were a goddess in touch with her sexuality and femininity. You just needed a small nudge to get there.

He adds a second finger, and he so carefully curls them upwards to gently press right on the spot that made you see stars.

Your hands abandoned the bed, and you grabbed onto his hair. His hazel eyes flutter up at you, and his glasses were pushed up onto his head.

Your orgasm was building quicker than it ever had before. “Nanami-! fuck, I’m gonna..” You try to warn, but he’s already a step ahead of you. His fingers start pumping a big more aggressively, and he’s pointed with his tongue, focusing all his attention on your clit. His tongue swirls in tight circles around the small bundle of nerves.

Your orgasm washes over you as you clench around his fingers, spasming on his face. He continues to thrust his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face and hand. Pressing a few more small kisses to your overly sensitive cunt, he slowly pulls away. “Good girl.” He praises lowly.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you recover from the best orgasm you’ve ever received. Your eyes flutter open weakly to see Nanami ditch his glasses. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and chin dry.

He then places the fingers he so deliciously used to fuck you into his mouth, and he sucks them clean with a satisfied groan.

“You taste so sweet.” He mumbles as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. It falls to the floor as he starts to unbuckle his belt. You can already feel your arousal building up again as you see the absolute tent in his slacks. Of course the nerd was absolutely hung.

Without another word, his pants and boxers are on the ground. His dick stood hard at attention. It was too heavy to press all the way up towards his stomach. Speaking of stomach, he was absolutely fucking built. He had well-defined solid abs and a broad chest.

You watch carefully as he fists his length a few times. You admire the way the veins bulge from his hands and arms. He wastes no more time: climbing up on top of you. He guides your legs up onto his shoulders, and he leans forward, putting you in a mating press.

His hand suddenly covers your mouth. “Spit.” He orders bluntly.

“W-what-?”

“I didn’t stutter. Spit. Unless you want me to go in dry.”

The thought of that sounded like a nightmare, so you gathered as much saliva into your mouth as you could, and you spat into his hand.

He doesn’t look phased in the slightest as he lubes himself up with your spit. He lets out a soft breath as the wet sounds of him gliding his hand up and down his cock fill the room. He then wipes his hand off on the bed, and he covers your mouth tightly with his hand. “Try not to be too loud, darling. I don’t want anyone to come and bother us.”

He was so fucking confident that he was going to make you noisy. It almost pissed you off, but Nanami was a man of his word.

He aligned himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, he buried himself all the way to the hilt. You let out a silent scream into his hand, and your back arches up off the bed. His eyes darken as he lets out a guttural growl.

Your cunt was just too precious to him, squeezing him so perfectly. You were absolutely sopping wet and so goddamn warm. He actually had to bite his tongue to not come prematurely. Once he tasted the hint of metal in his mouth, the urge to finish subsided.

“Shhh, shh. Be a good girl. The pain will subside soon.” He assures you quietly as his hips gently rock back and forth shallowly.

“Mmmnnf~ K-kento!” You moan into his hand. He hates having to muffle your pretty noises, but he really can’t risk getting a noise complaint right now.

“That’s right, darling.. Take it..” His hips start to roll with a bit more conviction. His thrusts are slow but powerful. Each time he buried himself deep in you, you went all dizzy in the head.

“Oh fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” He praises as his other hand holds one of your thighs up for you. Your body is almost slack from how harsh his hips are snapping into you. His leaking tip was bruising your cervix with each brutal thrust.

Nanami wishes he could take a picture right now. Your eyes are all glossed over. Your face is flushed the prettiest shade of pink, and your lips are all puffy and slightly parted. Your babbling utter nonsense as your greedy pussy takes him in with each thrust.

“F-fuck..! So big.. can feel you right here~” You moan as you point towards your lower stomach.

Nanami looks to where you’re pointing, and as if this man needed anymore courage, he begins to fuck you harder.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Yeah? Y’feel me in your womb, darling?” He groans. Noise complaint can be damned. He lets your mouth go and grabs your hips as he continues to pound your pretty pussy.

Tears involuntarily spring into your eyes from the sheer intensity. When Nanami said he was going to fuck you to tears, you thought it was just a figure of speech. Nah, you were lying in his bed, crying because the dick was so good.

“Look at me.” He demands as he grabs your blushed cheek and forces you to look up at him. “This pussy’s mine from now on, understand me?”

“Y-yes!” You cry out to him. Your stomach starts to coil with white hot pleasure as your orgasm builds up again.

“Tell me you love me when you cum on my cock.” He demands lowly. You’re too fucked stupid to argue.

The bed squeaks and wails in agony as he his thrusts are growing more erratic and sloppy. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his release as he gets more vocal and noisier too.

Your eyes cross as you feel your body gyrate on him. Your second orgasm crashes over you so suddenly you didn’t even have time to warn him. Your soul nearly floats away from you as you feel warm juices flood out from you. “Fuck~.. I-.. I love you, Nanami!” You whimper out. In the heat of the moment, it does feel like love.

Such pure pretty words being uttered during such a lewd time. Nanami is instantly emptying himself into you. His dick throbs as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of cum inside of you. His hands are shaking as they hold onto your hips. “Ngh.. I love you, darling. Take it.. All of it. Don’t waste a drop.” He lowly growls.

The room is quiet as both of you pant softly. After a few moments, you realize you had professed a love to him that you weren’t even sure about. Yes, Nanami was attractive physically and mentally. Sure, he was apparently a god in bed, but love???

What if he wasn’t even being serious when he told you to say that? He probably didn’t even mean it when he said it back. What if you made things weird? Is that why he’s being so silent?

Nanami leans down and presses a small kiss to your forehead. “That was intense. Are you alright, darling?” He asks affectionately.

You nod weakly, not wanting to frustrate him with your insecure thinking style.

“Are you sure? I’m not only talking about physically.” He murmurs softly as he slowly allows for your thighs to slip down to around his hips. His hand carefully strokes your cheek.

“I told you I love you..” You murmur out quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He exhales softly in amusement. “You did do that. It was very sexy. Do you regret saying it?”

“I.. I don’t know.” You confess quietly. “You said it back too…”

“I did. Seeing your body in such a vulnerable state as you were trusting me with your very essence made me feel full with love.”

You look up at him as he just said the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard.

“I don’t think I regret it.”

“I’m glad. I don’t regret it either.” He smiles and presses another small kiss to your temple.

*** *** ***

“Was that really your first time?” You giggle as the hot water coats your body. Nanami’s fingers are attentively massaging shampoo into your scalp.

“It really was.” He laughs quietly. “Why is it so hard to believe.”

“You were too good for a virgin.”

“I’m glad my darling thinks so.” He smiles and carefully leans your head back, so the water can rinse the shampoo from your hair.

“Where did you even learn that stuff from?” You ask curiously, wondering if Nanami just had a secret raging porn addiction.

“I have the horniest friend group. They don’t understand the concept of too much information.”

Ah. That makes sense.

tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog

[webism]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !

After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.

pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two

cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.

The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you. 

That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better. 

“Cold feet?” You ask. 

His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.

“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."

Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."

Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin.  Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.

Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.

Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.

And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.

Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again. 

The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day. 

“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway. 

“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months. 

Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”

You smile. “Mhm, talk.”

“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you. 

You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments. 

Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing? 

You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end. 

“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”

You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”

Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised. 

“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask. 

“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”

He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—

The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo. 

His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both.  His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.

“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."

It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in. 

“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.

You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.

The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."

You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?" 

Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."

Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."

Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."

Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside. 

"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."

You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.

The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.

"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips. 

There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it. 

This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.

So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.

“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”

You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"

You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.

It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.

And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.

You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”

“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"

"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"

Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."

“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you. 

Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”

A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.

He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.

Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless. 

Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.

He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."

You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is." 

Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.

For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.

And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.

Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"

This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."

"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."

His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin. 

Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.

“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”

“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”

Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”

His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.

Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you. 

Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe. 

Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.

You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.

Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.

"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.

Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock. 

You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault.  He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours. 

"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."

You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.

"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”

He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.

You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers. 

“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum. 

Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently. 

“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”

You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”

“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”

Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”

Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers. 

A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?

Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember. 

“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”

As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.

Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going. 

"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone. 

Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."

And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.

"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."

Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.

It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.

Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.

"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.

Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn. 

"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."

And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him. 

A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you. 

This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless. 

And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.

"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours. 

"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"

"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."

You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.

His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.

"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life. 

You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear. 

You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next. 

Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.

And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. 

Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.

“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”

Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”

You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.

“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”

You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed. 

“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.

TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine

cont in comments !

[5sospenguinqueen]

Love You FURever - Toto Wolff x Vet! Reader

Summary: When Toto marries a vet, he realises his life consists of yelling about cars and fostering injured animals.

Fluff. Humour. Pinterest pics.

Requested: Yes by anon. Sorry this is only a small one

F1 Masterlist

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ynwolff just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, kimi.antonelli and others

ynwolff some friends from work

1,681 comments

maxverstappen1 sassy and jimmy said they’ve never enjoyed a vet visit so much

→ ynwolff bring them back anytime! such lovely cats

user toto’s plan to get max to mercedes is by making his wife befriend his cats liked by ynwolff

→ user ahah she liked. she’s so funny

lewishamilton roscoe says he can’t wait for his check-up

→ ynwolff i can’t wait to see my sweet boy

→ georgerussell63 i miss when i was your sweet boy

→ ynwolff i’ve been around you too long. you stopped being my sweet boy last year

albon_pets any room for more friends?

→ ynwolff there’s always room for f1 pets

→ user this just makes me think she set up her own clinic purely so she could look after the f1 animals

→ user agreed because she attends every race where a pet is so she can be on hand for them

charles_leclerc this is my sign to get a dog

→ user yes! charles dog dad era needed

mercedesamgf1 i thought we were friends… but you haven’t visited us for ages :(

→ ynwolff don’t make me tell my husband that you’re emotionally blackmailing me

→ mercedesamgf1 he told us to (and there’s no proof if we delete the comment)

→ ynwolff (i have it printed out)

→ user omfg she’s defo the funniest wag

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mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by ynwolff, georgerussell63 and others

mercedesamgf1 boss man hard at work

4,463 comments

ynwolff tell him not to look so serious. he’ll scare the children

→ totowolff my love, i can see your comments.

→ ynwolff when did you do this? why do you follow mercedes and your drivers and not ME!

→ user toto sleeping on the couch later liked by ynwolff

kimi.antonelli 😊

user i hope he’s trying to figure out how to fix the shit box that is the W15

user he’s such a grandpa with his tied sweaters

→ totowolff i am not a grandpa.

→ ynwolff so when you were complaining about your back aching and begging for a rub?

→ user i bet he doesn’t act like a grandpa at home, that’s how they ended up with a 6 year old

→ georgerussell63 guys, he can see these comments now fyi

user definitely the hottest team principal liked by ynwolff

→ totowolff with the hottest wife.

→ user omg they’re so down bad for each other that he’s breaking pr rules for her

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wolffcare just posted

liked by roscoelovescoco, albon_pets and others

wolffcare boss of the month

933 comments

ynwolff i paid them to post this. literally

→ wolffcare that only makes it like 5% less true

roscoelovescoco vets of thes years

charles_leclerc leo is looking forward to his first trip to the vets tomorrow

maxverstappen1 would recommend

lewishamilton 10/10

alex_albon the cats are begging me to make them fat so they have a reason to come visit you

→ ynwolff stop feeding them cheese

user why are all the f1 drivers here?

→ totowolff because this is my wife.

→ user when he claims you

→ user girl bffr

→ user starting to feel like toto only made an insta so he could join the drivers in praising her online

mercedesamgf1 if the w15 was an animal, we would trust you with it more than toto

→ totowolff my office. monday. 9am.

→ mercedesamgf1 crap

→ ynwolff they were complimenting me, my love

→ totowolff fine.

→ totowolff @/mercedesamgf1 make that 10am.

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ynwolff just posted

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and others

ynwolff my best friends for the weekend

3,311 comments

user omg the fact that she cropped out toto

totowolff liebling, are we no longer friends?

→ ynwolff you left your wet towel on the bed again so no

→ user oh so it’s not just my husband

→ user even millionaires piss off their wives

→ totowolff *billionaire.

roscoelovescoco my favourites grand prixs buddy

→ ynwolff my favourite bulldog

georgerussell63 offended that i’m not in this

→ ynwolff toto, your child is pestering me again

→ lewishamilton actually, i’m a little offended that I’m not in this either but bono is

→ ynwolff omg lewis i’m so sorry. i'll dedicate a whole post to you this weekend

→ georgerussell63 wow

user jack is so cute. he’s the perfect combination of toto and yn

→ totowolff yn did a great job, didn’t she?

→ ynwolff stop trying to convince me to have another

→ user omg he’s trying to get her to have more!

mercedesamgf1 we love having the three of you in the garage. brings us more luck

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totowolff just posted

liked by mercedesamgf1, ynwolff and others

totowolff gentleman, if you fall in love with a vet, she will give you the best family. but far too many animals in your home

4,477 comments

mercedesamgf1 the cutest family 🩵

lewishamilton is this the puppy that was going to be put down?

→ totowolff yes. yn rescued him and i couldn’t say no.

georgerussell63 so that makes one child, three cats, two hamsters, two cows and a puppy. what’s next?

→ ynwolff i really want a pig but toto says he doesn’t like the noise :(

→ user isn’t he trying to get you to have another baby? how is that noise okay?

albon_pets we should open up a zoo together

→ totowolff don’t give her ideas!

charles_leclerc omg when can we meet him!?

→ ynwolff he’ll be at the next couple of races

f1wags what a lovely picture of yn and jack

ynwolff you shouldn't call your son an animal. he’s only a little feral. he gets that from you

→ totowolff i watched you tear into a steak yesterday. not sure i’m the cause.

→ ynwolff uh, you were the cause of my craving for steak

→ totowolff who knew getting you pregnant made you such a carnivore.

→ user pregnant?!

→ user baby #2?!?!

→ user definitely not a grandpa

→ ynwolff toto!

→ totowolff this is why i didn’t want an instagram!

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Requests open! Now include Franco Colapinto and K Mag

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[parfaitblogs]

fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.  word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be. 

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all. 

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not. 

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide. 

And then he was free. 

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished. 

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened. 

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break. 

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met. 

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again. 

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit. 

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was. 

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be. 

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry. 

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming. 

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened. 

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped. 

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed. 

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again. 

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more. 

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him. 

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more. 

You couldn't complain. 

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch. 

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body. 

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later. 

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind. 

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you. 

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin. 

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered. 

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously. 

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face. 

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up. 

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away. 

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?" 

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again. 

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up. 

"Lots of people say oral," he defended. 

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head." 

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping. 

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping. 

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so. 

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?" 

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose. 

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests. 

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter. 

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him. 

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him. 

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have. 

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded. 

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone. 

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat. 

He liked to hear you. 

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either. 

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face. 

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest. 

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?" 

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body. 

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time. 

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make. 

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit. 

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin. 

"Touch myself?" 

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again. 

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head. 

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again. 

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you. 

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you. 

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could. 

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more. 

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it. 

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin. 

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't. 

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling. 

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome. 

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were. 

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to. 

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating. 

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered. 

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after. 

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after. 

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck. 

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter. 

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again. 

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there. 

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips. 

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking. 

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here. 

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more. 

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move. 

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move). 

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second. 

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled. 

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little. 

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again. 

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure. 

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were. 

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots. 

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever. 

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that. 

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever. 

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly. 

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared. 

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely. 

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone. 

Thankfully, you didn't have to. 

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee. 

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub. 

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt. 

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless. 

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways. 

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach. 

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh. 

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face. 

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort. 

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[gutsby]

Honor Among Thieves

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Marrying Brooklyn’s most dangerous man was easy. Divorcing him proves to be a bit harder—particularly when you’re pregnant with his child.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (f!receiving). Breeding kink. Hurt/Comfort/We-Almost-Just-Died-Sex. Morning sickness. Manslaughter. Brief coerced kissing. Beefy, mob boss Bucky is a possessive expectant father who just wants to make sure he knocked you up properly

Descriptions of violence throughout.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Bucky’s words reverberated like a shotgun’s report, skimming across two dozen feet of marble, glass, and stainless steel before reaching your ears on the opposite end of the room. He was standing at the threshold of the kitchen, and your back was turned to him. Lucky thing, too, or else he would’ve seen the smile threatening to tug at both ends of your lips—effectively blowing your cover.

“Really, I don’t have the slightest idea, Barnes,” you told him, and it took everything in you not to laugh. Having just narrowly preserved your composure, you continued, “You keep me locked in this prison all day and expect me not to find ways to entertain myself? Well, this is all it is.”

Like hell it was, you could already hear in Bucky’s head. Feeling him eye you up and down from the archway, take his first steps into the room, loosen his tie, most likely.

“Prison?” You registered a low scoff, and his voice was already so much closer than it’d been five seconds ago.

Your husband was striding as quickly as his smooth, dark, tailored suit would allow, and he was undressing as he walked. You could hear the clothes coming off but pretended not to notice. Instead staring more intently at the crab bisque simmering on the stove before you, you licked the spoon you were holding and hummed a little.

“Yes,” you answered, simply, “Prison.”

Bucky was by your side in no time at all. Up close, he smelled like rosemary, oakmoss, and gunpowder.

“Well, this is news to me,” he said. He dragged out the middle syllables of his words longer than was necessary, likely to make his move sidling up closer to you. The last sound had scarcely died in his throat more than a second or two before you felt an arm loop around your back. A hand coming to rest on your hip, then his voice, again:

“See, I never knew they built ‘prisons’ up in first-class penthouse apartments in Brooklyn. Must be pretty nice.”

Bucky stepped behind you, and you were half-certain the black suit jacket he’d come home wearing was fully removed. Again, you pretended not to see, or care.

“It’s a metaphor, James.” But your voice wavered.

“A metaphor?” Bucky’s head sank into the soft groove between your neck and your shoulder, and he kissed it.

“Yes.”

Your mouth made a sound more akin to a breath than a real, enunciated word, and you knew Bucky felt it too. He sensed this headstrong, no-bullshit façade of yours was sure to come crumbling apart any second, and each new brush of his hands and lips would be making it happen. Knowing this, he wasn’t in a rush to get the rest of his clothes off. He did, however, start to toy with yours.

“Tell me more. Am I really holding you hostage, doll?”

You took a ladle and started to stir, trying to stay cool. Meanwhile, your husband tugged gently on your dress.

“Hostage, housewife, same thing,” you muttered, low.

For once, it was Bucky’s turn to break character, as he laughed. It was short-lived and sweet, and he pressed another kiss to the skin of your neck, as if in apology.

“Right, right. I forgot. You were forced to marry me.”

“Right,” you shook your head, just slightly emboldened by the way you’d made him crack, if only for a moment, “I’m forced to marry you, move into this horrific little shanty in Brooklyn”—gesturing to the multi-million dollar apartment surrounding you both—“and then you leave me here, all by myself, with nothing to do while you go play Godfather with your mobster friends. It’s not fair.”

By the tail end of that last sentence, you and Bucky both were already grinning a little, coming to terms with just how ridiculous it sounded when you phrased it like that. Still, your husband seemed game to keep the bit going.

“Now that’s just not true,” he said, tone all faux offense.

You felt the soft snap of a ribbon coming undone, and in a second realized it was the satin bow holding the back of your dress together. The fabric loosened, and Bucky’s hands slid down your sides, over your front—of course.

“I didn’t leave you ‘by yourself’ at all, doll,” he said, and suddenly, his palms were fanning out, over something, “Gave you this baby to keep you company, didn’t I?”

The ‘something’ he was touching now was your belly. All soft and smooth and protruding out in a perfect little globe beneath your dress, no bigger than when he’d left for work that morning. Bucky treated the bump like it was a novelty all the same—like he was seeing it for the first time and couldn’t believe he was actually the one responsible for making it get like that. It had gotten to be a hobby of his, nearly, just how much he loved watching it grow. He had his fingers splayed out across your tummy virtually every chance he could get, and that didn’t stop whether you were out in public or sharing a moment in the comfort of home; he couldn’t get enough.

Which was why Bucky was right when he’d said you knew exactly what you were doing when he came home that day. You knew just the kind of effect that wearing a tight, white dress while cooking dinner would have on him, and you hoped it would rile him up just like this: with his hands roaming over every inch of your body, making soft, sweet circles along the swell of your belly, and kissing your neck again and again. Biting some, too. Getting so worked up he was all but gnawing at the skin as he drank in your scent and got lost to pure instinct.

If it wasn’t clear that Bucky had had a breeding kink before, you saw it written plain as day across his face every morning and night since he’d first learned you were pregnant. Like all the life force within him was just a byproduct of the knowledge that you were his—and this baby, growing bigger each day, was a mix of you both.

You hated to say it, but fatherhood suited your assassin-trained, mob-heading, bloodlusting husband better than anyone could have predicted in a million years or more.

Presently, Bucky flipped you around and sank to his knees. He slid you over to the counterspace area, away from the stove, and made sure to flip each knob to ‘off’ to make sure there wasn’t a chance you’d get burned. You cast one last look at the crab bisque and knew at once your hard work would have to be put on the back burner for now, because Bucky wasn’t hungry for that.

Still, you kicked a foot in soft, muted protest when you felt him slide his hands up your legs, under your dress, and start to reach for your panties. You let out a breath.

“I spent two hours perfecting the seasoning on that, Barnes,” you chided him, gently and without much admonition in your voice as you pointed to the soup, “You say you want a good little housewife but won’t even leave me un-fucked long enough to try any food I make!”

“And I’m very sorry about that, Mrs. Barnes,” Bucky replied, head disappearing beneath your skirt so he could take your underwear off with his teeth instead.

But, much like your reproach, your husband’s strained apology held less than half of its professed sincerity. Your blue cotton panties were discarded in a second, your hips pushed back against the cool white marble behind it, and Bucky, almost too cheekily, brought his head back up from underneath your dress just to steal a quick look at your belly, then up at you. He was smiling.

“Anything you make tastes amazing, honey. Daddy just needs to eat a little something beforehand, that okay?”

He already knew what you’d say. The sweet, shit-eating grin hovering over your lower half knew all that and more. Bucky just loved to tease, taking the hem of your dress between his index and thumb, and rubbing all the more tenderly, murmuring again, ‘That alright with you, pretty girl?’ and ‘My wife likes getting tonguefucked in the kitchen, doesn’t she?’ while his breaths spread over you.

You nodded that you did. Momentarily forgetting the three-course meal you’d had planned for him since early that morning, you let your knees fall limply apart from one another, and Bucky’s broad form filled the space in between. The fabric of your dress was snug, especially so over your belly. Your husband pushed the material up your hips and let it rest just high enough to expose your warmth to him. Angling your hips back the slightest bit, trailing his fingers up your thighs and inside them, gently, Bucky let out a low groan against your body, and you could feel the vibrations of it travel up your spine.

“I really am mean for keeping you here all day, aren’t I?” he teased, sliding the tips of his fingers between your glistening folds and watching you jolt in response.

“So— so mean. Bucky, please.”

Your voice was far more hoarse than circumstances would seem to beget; your husband had just eaten you out that morning. Nevertheless, your hand was trembling as it reached for his head. Your pull was taut and dire. While your fingers threaded in through his hair and your body opened itself more and more for him, you could feel that kind smile, even if you couldn’t see it. Frankly, the swelling of eight-and-a-half months made it difficult to see much of anything below the waist, but Bucky made sure to let you know he was there. By holding your hand, skimming his lips against your skin, starting, just then, to sink his fingers in toward the heat of your body, and softly pulling his face away so he could look up at you.

“Baby?” he breathed.

Your eyes locked with his as he slid two fingers inside you. The stretch alone was enough to put your brain on the fritz, but, fighting the first shockwaves of pleasure:

“Y-Yeah?”

He withdrew. Pressed them back in and let out a grunt.

“I need you to do something for me.”

You couldn’t fathom what that might be, but you nodded anyway. ‘Anything’ was what you managed to choke out.

“And you might not like it, doll.”

Your eyes widened some.

“O— O-Okay, what?”

Bucky’s fingers curled inside you, and a short, sharp streak of dizzying pleasure pulsed through your body. Your knees felt weak, and your mind even worse, but with what little resolve you had left, you were able to keep your eyes entirely open and fastened to his. A look that struck you as almost bittersweet crossed your husband’s features, and you saw his gaze soften again.

“I need you to wake up,” he said, calmly.

“What?”

Your toes curled tight underneath you, and the warmth between your legs leapt up to over a thousand degrees.

“Melaya, I need you to wake up.”

At the same time, your blood ran cold in your veins. Surely, you couldn’t be hearing him right if the voice he used was so gruff and low—and laden with a Russian lilt.

“Bucky? What— What do you mean?”

But you knew. Or suspected something of it anyway.

Now the sound from your own throat was hardly one that you recognized as yours, so shrill and high and strange—what could he mean by that? Why was he watching you in that way? Your husband wasn’t smiling so brightly anymore, and the once-gratifying conflagration between your legs had grown to an almost scorching degree, no longer nice, generous, or pleasurable in the slightest.

“We need you to wake up now, honey. Right now.”

His tone, too, was distorted. Grating.

“Bucky, I-I don’t underst—”

“WAKE UP!”

“WAKE UP!”

Natasha shook you hard, and it hurt.

She didn’t mean for it to. She just needed you up and out of bed, and you’d been asleep for almost fourteen hours.

You started at the fifth or sixth shake, nearly punching yourself in the face when you tried yanking a set of covers up and over your head and discovered, shortly, that there was none. You were splayed out on a bed in an as-yet unfamiliar home—Steve’s new place—and, while you slept, you’d kicked all of the blankets you’d been given the night before off your body and onto the floor.

Your eyes were wide as saucers as they darted to Nat’s.

There was no need to say what had happened—she knew these dreams were getting worse by the day.

It’d been a week since you fled your Brooklyn apartment in an all-out terror. A week since a senseless, short-sighted idea on your part had led to the discovery that your husband was once part of a HYDRA sleeper cell whose activation phrase turned him into an agent of total destruction at will. A week since you’d seen a half dozen bodies litter your living room floor, more still being bludgeoned by the so-called ‘Winter Soldier,’ as Bucky had formerly been known. A week since you’d sobbed in Natasha’s arms and begged her not to let you go back. A week since you’d been obliged to hide out in Steve Rogers’ new bachelor pad upstate, because, frankly, there was nowhere else you could safely live until this whole ordeal with Bucky was settled—if it ever would be.

A full week since you’d learned you were pregnant, too.

As far as you knew, your husband was wholly unaware of this fact, and of Steve’s most recent real estate purchase up in Buffalo, and you’d been existing in a semi-serene and largely dissociated state for the past seven days.

Your gaze adjusted to the light, and you blinked up at Nat, feeling damp in just about every place on your body. You looked down and found yourself drenched in sweat.

“Hydrate. Please.”

It wasn’t so much a request as it was a standing order: Nat holding out a glass of water and instructing you to drink. Though your first instinct was to make a face and shake your head—you’d found that any new fluids in your body this early in the morning would only get thrown back up when you made your first frantic trip to the toilet—you accepted it anyway. You drank three big gulps to appease the woman standing next to the bed, then wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and smiled

“I’m gonna go puke now,” you said.

“Aim for inside the toilet bowl if you can,” Steve called out from the doorway. By the look on his face, you’d been doing a pretty shit job of aiming vomit lately.

“My bad, Rogers.”

You had a hand on your stomach, slowly easing back up into a seated position, when you heard something being flung across the room, followed by a ‘HEY!’ and a crash.

“Your aim sucks, too, Romanoff,” Steve griped, loudly, “And I was kidding. She can puke wherever she wants.”

By the door, a hefty hardcover book lay open on the floor. Apparently Nat’s options for projectiles had been limited.

“All good, Rogers,” you offered anyway. Fighting a smirk.

You were starting to stand, and your head felt as if you’d just taken your first steps off a rocking boat. Your other hand jumped to your mouth, and you muttered, ‘Fuck’ before brushing past Nat and her outstretched arms.

She held your hair while Steve retrieved the glass of water, as well as a towel. The unsightly first trimester ritual proceeded as it had for all of the last week, with Nat rubbing circles in your back and Steve making well-meaning but completely useless live commentary like, ‘Babies are a real pain in the ass, aren’t they?’ At the conclusion of each new stupid remark, Natasha would shoot a dirty look his way, but you never let her shoo him away. Through no conscious choice of your own, Steve had become something of a comfort blanket over the course of the past chaotic days. At the very least, you two were no longer at each other’s throats flinging accusations and exorbitantly-priced tumblers in the other’s direction, which was a marked improvement from where you were the day after you and Bucky’s wedding.

At length, you lifted your head from the toilet, and he daubed at your cheek with the towel—mostly just trying to wipe off spit and your own queasy-looking expression. He succeeded in clearing away just the former, but you forced a smile all the same, then shared it with Natasha.

Nat couldn’t smile back. In fact, the grimace on her face only etched even deeper, and her forehead creased.

“This is a horrible time to be asking you this, I know—”

“Nat, please.” Steve groaned.

Nat, what? There wasn’t a lot more that could catch you off guard after all the shit you’d come to see that week. Still, Nat’s breaths were both measured and slow, and you could see she was chewing on the inside of her cheek like she wasn’t quite sure how best to phrase her words. This, coming from one of the most astute legal minds this side of the Hudson River, gave you pause.

“Ask anything. I’m pretty numb, if you haven’t noticed.” You rapped on the side of your head for comedic effect, but neither Natasha nor Steve laughed or cracked a grin.

“How do you feel about filing for divorce tomorrow?”

At the sound of Nat’s words, you felt the bile jump back up your throat. You knew there wasn’t enough food or fluid to make much of anything now, but all the same, you craned your neck back over the toilet and retched. When nothing came out, as expected, you turned back.

“What?”

Natasha looked a little ill herself, but still, she continued.

“How do you feel about just…fast-tracking a divorce from him and taking off new? We’ll talk assets later.”

Assets? Fast-track? Divorce? What the fuck?

“What the fuck, Nat?” you repeated as much out loud.

It normally wasn’t your thing to be so blunt with her, but the inquiry certainly seemed to invite some extra candor. You swiped at your mouth for any excess spit that might’ve trickled out, crudely, and in a second, Steve was handing you the towel. Then helping you to your feet, holding your arm and lower back in a grip you could feel was secure. You were unsteady on your legs, so he and Natasha guided you over to the sink, where you could regain your bearings and freshen up a bit. Sneaking a look at your reflection in the mirror was a bad idea; your face was sallow, and the rest of your body had every appearance of being horribly weak, for lack of a better word. You caught a glimpse of a gash sitting just above your left temple and immediately looked away. Stupidly, you hoped Steve and Nat hadn’t seen it.

“He did that to you,” Nat said without missing a beat.

You winced, and you washed your hands, not looking up.

“I thought you said it wasn’t him. Soldat, you told me.” And for a second, your eyes flickered to Steve, whose expression was a touch more sympathetic, if not visibly discomfited now. Like he didn’t want to speak for once.

He did, anyway: “Doesn’t matter if it was Winter or him, really. Point is he hurt you while trying to protect y—”

“And yet, you asked me to forgive him just last week for killing my dad in the same type of rage,” you replied, and instantly regretted the accusatory tone you’d taken on.

Your anger was misdirected at Steve. It wasn’t his fault for sharing the truth about your husband’s—his best friend’s—past when you’d asked him. These were queries you’d made, helping to form justifications for your own decision to stay after what had happened in Madripoor. Obviously, Steve would be biased to help support his friend in a time of need. But now things were different; Bucky had never been activated as soldat and ended up hurting someone he’d loved before. Steve was free to change his mind after seeing that happen and urge you to leave, or at least reconsider, your marriage to Bucky.

The second look you gave him attempted to convey as much, a bit more apologetic as he and Natasha led the way out of the bathroom. Steve smiled and held your arm again, though you probably didn’t need it. You walked downstairs to the kitchen together. Over by the toaster, Sam was inspecting a charred bagel with a scowl

“Rogers, you really need to ditch this shit,” he said, gesturing to the rusted metal contraption that appeared to be from 1918, and had just burnt two bagels to a crisp.

“It was a gift from a friend, piss off,” Steve replied, grinning a little. Reaching for the blackened bread roll and even going so far as to take a bite, crunching loudly.

“Did your friend happen to fight in World War II?” Nat asked. She lent one look to the archaic machine but said nothing further, opting instead to take a seat at the kitchen table, where a sea of papers was strewn about.

Then, to you, “Come. Sit.”

Somewhere in your tentative stroll from where you stood to where she sat, and in the middle of the men’s toaster bickering, Sam called out that he’d have bacon and eggs ready in a second. Steve offered up his singed sesame bagel in the interim, and you told him no thanks. With a still slightly throbbing skull and a nauseous gait, you took the chair next to Nat’s and looked down at her papers.

Honestly, you thought your present condition might warrant some leeway when it came to holding off on the heavy-hitting topics first thing, but, to your surprise, Natasha slid a crisp white packet over almost instantly.

“Nat, what the fuck?” you groaned for the second time.

“Read it. Give it a second to digest, then we can—”

“No!” you cut in, pushing the packet back to her with a little more force than you’d meant, “I-I can’t. Not now.”

On the very first page, in bold and capitalized typeface, there was printed a brief string of words you’d never wanted—or thought you would ever need—to see:

‘VERIFIED COMPLAINT: ACTION FOR DIVORCE’

“It’s just the petition. No harm in taking a look,” Nat said.

You could hear a faintly gentler tone in her voice, even as you shook your head and looked away from the papers.

“I don’t want to. I can’t do this right now.” You kept shaking your head for a couple seconds after, turning your gaze instead to the bay window of Steve’s kitchen.

A nice, sprawling yard stretched as far as you could see. In the distance, a fuzzy white horizon was punctuated the slightest bit by the outline of a wood fence, but apart from that, the land was empty. The lot was secluded. Happy and effervescent in a nearly cloudless sky, the midmorning sun cast its rays without so much as the threat of a storm’s hinderance. You fixed your eyes on the clear expanse above and silently wished it would rain.

Before more than a minute or two had passed like that, Sam was approaching the table with two platters. Steve balanced four more by himself, watching the sway of one plate of scrambled eggs in his arms with a wary look before setting each one of the dishes on the table.

“Bon appétit,” Steve said, butchering his French just about as badly as Sam had the bagels. You and Nat thanked them both anyway and started clearing off the table, pushing papers away in favor of steaming plates. Sam and Steve sat down, and all of you began to eat.

While you dutifully piled on each scoop of eggs, bacon, sausage links, biscuits, gravy, and grits—far more than you knew you could feasibly consume—you wished again for a rainstorm, and maybe a quiet breakfast. One that wasn’t marred by talks of legal separation and lengthy battles in court, if you could help it at all. To this end, and perhaps against your body’s best interest, you shoveled two supersized spoonfuls of egg in your mouth, so that if Nat tried reviving those subjects again, you could put off the conversation by simply continuing to chew. You felt your stomach turn inside you but, stubbornly, ate more.

You had just swallowed it all, about to make way for a warm, flaky buttermilk biscuit, when a sound cut in, and your belly flipped again. Your teeth had barely sunk into the bread a second when Nat set her own food aside, then used two fingers to push something toward you.

“Just skim it. Let me explain what the process can be,” she said, tapping her index on the first line and meeting your eyes as if to plead. She had to have known she’d be met with resistance—from you, of course, but also Steve. She raised a defensive hand to him before he even cut in:

“Come the fuck on, Nat. Will you give her a break?”

“I’m saying this for her sake! I’m doing it for her.”

“And throwing divorce papers in her face over breakfast is really the best way of going about it? Is that for her?”

Sam swallowed whatever he’d been chewing on, glanced down at the top paper, and seemed to brace himself.

“Guys, is now really the right time—” he started.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Steve barked over him.

Natasha ignored the plainly disdainful look from the latter, lifted her hand off the paperwork and instead trained her gaze solely on you. Just like she had in Zurich. Focusing intently on your face, ignoring whatever Steve or Sam were saying in the moment, she turned to you and found your expression was stale. Unmoving. Frankly, half of what was running through your mind right then was how badly you wanted to puke again. As if the eggs had turned rotten in your gut the second they reached their destination in your GI tract, you felt a heavy, oppressive fog of nausea taking shape between your ears, and you just wanted everyone to stop talking.

Sam and Steve continued on without a hitch, agreeing vaguely but also appearing to bicker over other things, like when was the most appropriate time to have this conversation. Natasha was leaning in, reaching for your hand this time, and you knew she meant well. You would bet any large sum of money there wasn’t a malicious bone in her body, and she was doing this for your benefit. All the same, you were grateful when the front door swung back on its hinges, and a new person walked in. Nat, Sam, and Steve all suspended their conversations.

“Hey, wh—” the blissfully unaware, semi-stranger began.

“Sharon!” Steve cried, “Would you tell Romanoff she’s being a goddamn pest with no sense of boundaries?”

Sharon halted at the threshold of the house, skating a look between Nat and Steve at first, then Steve and Sam, then just at you. The look didn’t linger for long, and before you knew it, she was setting down a fistful of grocery bags and twisting her mouth into a frown.

“Will you shut up, Steve?” was her only response.

Sam rose from his chair and pointed as if to say, ‘Yeah, that’ before joining her in the foyer to help carry in the Wegmans bags. Natasha leaned back in her chair with a vaguely pleased look, and Steve just rolled his eyes. He slapped his palm overtop the stack of divorce papers still laying before you and, seemingly undeterred, continued,

“Do you think it’s fair for her to force divorce papers on this poor soul—” pointing to you, the poor soul, apparently, “—when it’s been a week since she left?”

Sharon started handing off the frozen stuff first, sliding a box of Stouffer’s across the counter to Sam, who then deposited it in the freezer. These exchanges took place in relatively quick succession, with Sharon only chancing a look toward the kitchen table once or twice as they did.

“I think she should do whatever the hell she wants,” she said, “And I think their divorce is none of our business.”

Fair enough take. One that you could respect, at the very least, even if you weren’t certain she particularly cared for you at all. You reckoned she had no reason to, and on the whole, appeared to be a pretty reserved person.

You wanted to add a word in her defense, reiterate to Steve that he didn’t have to go to bat for you, the poor, defenseless soul, right now. Instead of being able to speak, though, you felt an upsurge of something heavy in your throat. You clamped a hand to your mouth again, cheeks flushing with the heady sensation and also out of embarrassment, then pushed your chair back and stood.

“I— gotta—” you stammered, just audible to the table, through the wall your fingers had made over your lips.

You sprinted up the stairs without another word.

The first trimester ritual repeated, and ten minutes later, you re-emerged from the bathroom feeling two big spoonfuls of scrambled eggs lighter and still none the happier, healthier, or wiser. You took a peek in the full-length mirror at the other end of the room and discerned from a distance of ten feet that you looked like dogshit.

You flopped down on the bed face-first, heedless of the pool of sweat that still encompassed roughly half of it, and let out a weak, muffled breath into the sheets. Someone had been gracious enough to replace all the blankets and pillows you’d kicked off last night. When you heard a knock on the door, it sounded a lot like Nat’s.

You rolled to the side, eyes screwed shut in frustration.

“If you’ve come to tell me my marriage is a fucking dumpsterfire, I agree completely, Natasha. I’m dumb.”

A little huff of a half-laugh sounded from the doorway. You opened your eyes and saw Sharon standing there.

Up close, she looked a little paler than you’d remembered seeing her last in Switzerland. Soft beads of perspiration dotted her neckline from what had likely been a hot and arduous journey walking up the driveway with all the food, and presently, she seemed tired. She wore a simple gingham blouse that had her eyes shining with vibrance, though, and both hands, you noticed, were full—she had a mug in one and a spoon in the other. She smiled kindly.

“The mob tends to have that effect,” she said, strolling in. Setting the mug on the nightstand and easing the spoon into it, stirring, “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

You had no idea what all she knew about your marriage. You weren’t so sure you could extricate yourself from all the blame of having the thing go up in flames in four short weeks. Nevertheless, you smiled back and offered up something good-humored in return, like, well, I’m not exactly winning wife of the fucking year anytime soon.

Again, Sharon chuckled. It was small. She leaned back against the nearest armchair and, pointing to the cup she’d left to rest on the nightstand, said in a soft voice,

“Give that a minute. It’s hot.”

You glanced over and saw a little string that you guessed was attached to a teabag sitting at the bottom of the mug. The drink smelled like chamomile, maybe. You sat up, readjusted your pyjama top, then slid your socked feet underneath you so you could scoot closer to the edge of the bed. On a deeper inhale, you decided the tea was definitely chamomile. And too hot, as Sharon said.

“Thank you,” you told her.

“It’s not poisoned, I promise,” she replied. Letting out that funny little chuckle of hers—one too low to be considered a full laugh, but very close—and then, seeming to realize what she said might’ve sounded off, “Like— I heard what happened with Schröder. Him trying to drug you after the wedding and all…that. I— I’m sorry.”

Bad time to be making jokes, she appeared to chastise herself, but you just nodded along with the faintest grin.

“It’s OK. I’d pay money to be knocked the fuck out now.”

You grinned bigger, and she smiled too.

“It should make you sleepier, if you wanted to nap.”

You replied that you would, in fact, love to be unconscious right now if it meant not having to put up with all this bullshit morning sickness, and you slowly reached for the mug. Sharon stood up, and while you took your first sips, she fluffed the pillows behind you.

She was right. The tea felt like a hug. You settled under the covers and brought the cup to your lips once more, taking two big draughts before setting the drink aside. Yeah, that shit’ll put you right out, no drugs needed. You sank even further under the sheets and watched Sharon hover between the bed and the doorway, looking around as if trying to find something to do—some way to make herself feel more useful, if you had to guess from the pensive look in her eyes. Finally, she settled closer to the door and gave you one, fairly sanguine look. The warmth of your drink had already begun to nestle inside your weary bones, and your eyelids felt heavier. Still, you tried to return the sunny look before getting fully settled.

“Thanks again, Sharon. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, of course.”

She started to leave. In fact, she’d already made it three-fourths out of the room when something stopped her in her tracks. She turned back to you, and you looked up.

“This…probably doesn’t mean a whole lot coming from me, but—whatever you decide to do with Bucky…is okay. We’ll support you, whether you choose to raise this baby with him or do…whatever it is you want to do. Don’t let Nat or Steve or Sam or anybody tell you differently. It’s your choice, y’know, whether you wanna stay married…”

Sharon trailed off, and somewhere inside, you could tell she meant to finish with words like, ‘…even if you didn’t get to make the choice to get married in the first place.’ You appreciated it. You beamed with just your head poking out from over the covers and thanked her again.

And, before she left, for the second time, she stopped. She walked over to the nightstand and bent slightly at the waist, just enough to set something small down. You turned to the side and saw a vial—a minuscule tube—on the surface. Your eyes widened, realizing what it was.

“Sam picked it up in Madripoor. He said Steve had given this to you…to, uh, give to Schröder, and I thought you should have it back,” she said, pausing, “Just in case.”

You eyed the little vial of poison on the nightstand and nodded, still not completely understanding. Your head throbbed, your stomach was still turning, churning. Your brain was about ten blinks away from logging off entirely and drifting to sleep. All you could do, then, was repeat what Sharon had said as you exchanged one final look.

“Just in case.”

Your eyes closed, and you fell asleep very soon after.

You couldn’t have been out for more than an hour; you were sure of it. However, the next time you glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, you saw it read 11:04.

P.M.

Shit.

SHIT.

That chamomille tea was no fucking joke.

Just as your thoughts drifted back to Sharon, the conversation you’d shared, the drink she’d given you, the poison she’d left behind for you to keep, you heard her voice all over again—and now, not just in your own head.

Presently, she was standing over your bed again, though the room was much darker this time around. She pressed a finger to her lips, hey, please, please, be quiet, alright? At first you wanted to make a sharp and strangled sound. A cry for help? You weren’t sure. Didn’t know. Couldn’t see very much of the woman at all, except for the outline of her face from the moonlight streaming in through the window. She stared and ‘shh’ed’ some more.

And you were contemplating yelling out a loud obscenity in response to it when next she cut in, markedly gentler:

“Keep it quick. Nat and the guys will be back in thirty.”

You blinked hard into the darkness and waited for your vision, or else your still-missing voice, to return. It didn’t. You just stared back, eyelids going up and down and up and down like a goddamn idiot gone sluggish off one too many Quaaludes, and it was several seconds more before she gestured behind her, into the shadows.

You tensed under the covers, chock-full of terror. You squinted, and shrank, and might’ve nearly pissed yourself were it not for the intervening force of a face.

A familiar face.

Bucky’s face.

You leapt up from the bed, displacing each one of Sharon’s cool and careful warnings from your mind all at once. You didn’t mean to, and as soon as she’d shushed you again, you shut your mouth. Fell still. Sharon slipped out of the room, reminding you both, again, that you had to be quiet, and you had to be quick. Then it was just you and Bucky. Silence and slightly less than five feet of space between you two. Then, shortly, no space to spare at all, as you ran to meet each for a hug a second later.

Your head struck his chest, and it was hard. That, alongside the python’s squeeze he wrapped around your body, hugging you to him in the tightest embrace imaginable, had your mind reeling, skull pulsing just a bit. You pulled back and stood smiling up at Bucky, whose eyes were wide, drinking the sight of you in.

‘Are you hurt?’ were his first words.

You shook your head that you weren’t, still unable to talk.

“Why are you— Who— who brought you— I didn’t—”

It seemed Bucky was equally hard-pressed to form a sentence himself, while his eyes were roaming wildly, all over you. Looking for bumps or bruises or cuts, whatever the wound might have been. He stumbled to the lamp and flicked it on. You tilted your head left, reflexively.

“I’m fine, Bucky,” you said. Sudden and swift, “I’m good.”

But you didn’t move your head too far to the right, either, for fear he might see the cut above your temple—the one soldat had caused when he’d pushed you to the floor, trying to protect you from a threat he couldn’t see.

As it was, your husband seemed to be too much in shock to see anything else apart from what stood immediately in front of him. He hugged you again. He kissed the crown of your head. He constricted your body so tight in his arms you felt a pressure start to build behind your eyes, and suddenly you weren’t so much pulling away as you were wrenching your body from him. When you met Bucky’s gaze again, the sweet blue irises were glossy.

“Nat wouldn’t say where you were, just that you were safe and needed to be…be alone for a while, but I—” He stopped, and it was as if he couldn’t even finish with the words, because his breath was stuck in his throat and his eyes were stinging too much. He looked down, briefly.

You wanted to reach for his hand but hesitated. He took yours a second later, holding extra tight as he continued:

“I thought I’d— thought you might’ve…left. I don’t know. I hadn’t been able to sleep, and then she— Sharon, she called me tonight, said you were here, so— so—”

You felt a pang of guilt holding his gaze, seeing how all the hurt that had come to accumulate behind those eyes over the last week went spilling, at length, into emotions he was either too overcome or sleep-deprived to express. The weight of this suffocated him, made him extra quick to speak his mind but slow to make sense of just about anything that was coming out of his mouth. He stopped, sucked in a breath, then pinched your hand in his, and you didn’t know what to do. You had no idea what to say.

“I was scared, Bucky.”

It sounded pathetic coming out of your mouth. Your husband nodded as though you’d just said the most profound thing in the world. His knuckles went white from just how hard he was gripping your hand, his head bobbed along in agreement, and for a moment, you winced to think that he might hug you again. Instead, the fingers tangled between yours just made a tighter knot.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said.

“You scared me,” you added, voice wavering.

Your left hand was going numb. You didn’t want to give him pause—possibly hurt his feelings—by freeing your touch from his, but that grip was brutal. Deathly rigid and unforgiving. Thoughts of Brooklyn and Madripoor came flooding back; Bucky was so much stronger than he realized. His tone, in contrast, was dulcet and soft.

“I didn’t know I’d get like that. I should’ve told you, doll.”

“I shouldn’t have tried the activation in the first place.”

You shouldn’t have tried digging into Bucky’s past all. When all there seemed to be at every turn was a brand new way for him to hurt you, or the people you loved, maybe there came a time when you had to stop asking questions altogether. Maybe that was what his mother and all the women who’d gone before her had known to do, what you had been too stupid to see all along. There was no knowing these men at all, only taking them as they were and learning to cope with what they became.

Bucky shook his head.

“No, doll, it’s not on you,” he murmured low. Still forceful

Thankfully, he released your hand to cup your cheeks, and he kissed your forehead. You felt your pulse in your palm, throbbing from where he’d held it. When he let go the second time, his expression was considerably softer.

“Listen, I’ll take you home, we can talk things over. As long as I know you’re safe, it doesn’t have to— to—”

Hey. He was already halfway toward the door before he realized you weren’t following him. He turned and gestured forward. He beckoned you, brows drawing in.

“Baby? C’mon.”

You didn’t budge.

Your feet were rooted in place, as though cemented to the floor. No matter how much you wanted to appease him, go along with whatever he asked, you couldn’t. You shook your head, and Bucky tilted his own, confused.

“Baby?”

“I’m leaving, Bucky.”

You couldn’t hear your own words slipping out between your teeth, only the blood rushing through your ears. Bucky stopped and turned to face you completely.

“What?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What— what do you mean, ‘you’re leaving’?”

“I want a divorce.”

That part you did hear yourself. You wished you hadn’t.

You wished you hadn’t seen the light break off from Bucky’s eyes, expression going limp the instant your words registered with him. You nearly wished you hadn’t said them at all, seeing just how far his face fell and how hurt he looked by them—but quietly, from somewhere more rational-headed inside yourself, there was a voice reminding the rest of you that it needed to be done. You couldn’t keep pretending like this wasn’t what had had to come next. What you’d been skirting with Nat all day and hadn’t been able to bring yourself to admit before now.

Your husband still didn’t seem to be computing it fully. He walked closer to you, and his gait was unsteady.

“Divorce?”

Your vision was bleary; you hadn’t even realized tears had begun to brim at your waterline as you watched him.

“It’s what we need, Bucky,” you could barely get it out.

“I don’t,” he shot back, not missing a beat, “I don’t.”

“It’s what I need.”

“You don’t mean that.”

His voice was hoarse, face shifting from lax incredulity to one of a wince—screwed up in a way that said he felt ill. You shook your head but couldn’t look away from him.

“You don’t mean that,” he repeated.

“It’s what I want,” you pressed on, just as sick yourself.

“You said what you wanted was me.” Again, Bucky’s voice splintered, and you could feel the pain in it.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me, Bucky.”

Gritting your teeth, unsure where else to fix your stare on his face but those eyes—while your own betrayed their feelings too easily, fraught with wet, rolling tears—you shouldn’t have been surprised when his went wider.

“What are you talking about?”

The question was short, sharp, and biting, spoken with such haste as might be mistaken for anger, but the eyes softened his look at once. The anguish painting them now as he stared back at you were a proof, beyond a doubt, that it was betrayal, not rage, which steered him. He turned, and it was as if he couldn’t see a thing but you; his elbow clipped the lamp and knocked it over, but still, he just stared. In turn, the ceramic appliance rolled onto its side, toppled the mug and the vial beside it, and all three went crashing to the floor. Bucky didn’t blink.

“Wh—” he started again, but you didn’t hear the rest.

You remembered Sharon. Heard a flash of her last admonition in your head—be quiet, be quick—and without thinking, you fell to your knees. You tried retrieving what pieces of chipped lamp and shattered mug you could, quickly. You spotted the small vial on the floor and shoved it in a pocket. Your hands swept over the broken pieces without any real idea of what you were doing—all except needing to clean Bucky’s mess—and then swiftly, stupidly, you tried picking it up by yourself.

Of course, a shard cut you. The little slit that was left in its wake could have been no wider than a fraction of an inch, but still, it bled. You looked down at the cut, just then starting to sprout red from left to right along the side of your palm, when a new sight crossed your vision. It was fast, too. All but thoughtless in the way it broke in, gripping your hand in his, and yanking you to your feet. Bucky hadn’t seen that you’d cut yourself, it seemed, and, out of instinct, had grabbed your hand to help you up. As before, his grasp was like a vice, and his thumb pressed right inside the lacerated flesh, sending a whole new maelstrom of pain shooting up your wrist and arm. Now, as then, he was heedless of his strength and his sheer, brute force, that he didn’t even see the effect of his grip. He just held on, held you, tighter, tighter, and—

“STOP!” you shrieked.

You shoved him off. Pried his touch off your palm and gripped your forearm in your other hand and pored over the sight, seeing the gash almost doubled in size from just where Bucky’s finger had sunk into the fresh wound. You let out a sharp, muffled cry through lips that tried to stay closed—remembering Sharon again. You shook your head, clenched your jaw, and tore off the other direction.

And when your husband reached out, eyes wide with their own shock and apologies, ‘Baby, fuck, I’m so sorr—’ you threw him off again. With your non-bleeding palm, you thrust your hand against his chest and pushed hard:

“Don’t touch me!”

When he reached for you again, as if by force of habit, you held up a defensive arm and sobbed out, ‘Stop!’

‘Don’t touch me, don’t—don’t—don’t fucking touch me.’

You screamed it. You didn’t mean to. Thinking only vaguely of the need to be quiet, and almost entirely on the stabbing pain in your hand, the imprint of Bucky’s touch on your body, and the blood trickling down your forearm, you darted into the bathroom and threw the door closed behind you. You locked it. You meant to.

Twenty minutes might as well have been twenty years in Bucky Barnes’ mind. In a moment like this, following yet another supreme fuck up on his part, he felt powerless. He had had to fight the instinct to barge into the next room over with every fiber of his being, and, making fists by his sides and pacing the floor and hating himself was all that seemed capable of occupying his mind just then.

He’d knocked on the bathroom door at least ten times. He’d been ignored each time, no matter the duration.

He still had your blood on his thumb, and it made him ill.

You said you wouldn’t hurt me, Bucky.

While he uncurled his hand from a fist just long enough to stare at the streaks of red stretched over his finger, he heard those words replay over and over again in his head. He’d said it—swore it—himself, and still your blood was turning a cool, dark, dry shade of crimson on his thumb.

This wasn’t how he’d meant for any of this to go. Still, notwithstanding his best intentions, none of it mattered. He’d seen a sincere look of fear in your eyes looking up at him, and nothing in the world would change what he’d done, or who he was. He’d caused you pain tonight, last week—though his memory of that was still so hazy and dark he hardly knew what else had happened, even now—and above all, he’d failed you as a husband, a protector.

You were likely curled up in a ball by the bathroom sink, cowering in fear because of him. The thought sent another tidal wave of nausea thrumming through his skull, a lump in his throat growing larger alongside it, and before he knew what he was doing, Bucky was striding back to the bathroom door. He banged his fist against it.

“Honey?”

No answer.

“Baby, please open the door.”

More silence.

The moment brought to mind a memory from the night you two had been married. How you’d fled to the en-suite bathroom and locked yourself in it; how Bucky had rattled the whole doorframe with the force of his knocks, demanding you come out. He’d hardly known you then. You hardly knew him now. The realization of this made the weight in his throat all the more excruciating as he stood, and, wincing with pain, Bucky kept knocking.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Pleading now. His voice was hoarse all over again.

Had he been the slightest bit more desperate and reckless, he might’ve been tempted to muscle through, kick the door in with his boot. But Bucky knew better. He could already guess how much that action would terrify you now, while tending to an injury that he himself had inadvertently made worse. Barreling inside would be neither romantic nor sweet, just sinking what may then be a lethal dose of salt in the deeper, metaphorical wound. He refrained. Instead of continuing to knock, he dropped his forehead to the door and closed his eyes.

“Please believe me, baby,” he tried again.

He’d said it so quietly he feared you might not hear it. Then, a little bit louder, ‘Please, please believe me.’

No sound to be heard inside but running water.

“You mean everything to me, doll.”

By now, his voice was clogged with pain, teetering on the brink of agony as he rested his hands on the door, and willed you to open it. Say something to him. Anything.

“I’d never mean to hurt you. Not in a million years.”

For a moment, he heard nothing more. Just how desperately he needed to hear a voice in reply could not be overstated. Craving a new sound worse than oxygen in his lungs. At first, when he heard something other than himself nearby, it nearly knocked him back with joy.

A voice right next to his ear, “But you did, didn’t you?”

The joy lasted less than a second.

The voice beside him was low. And close. Not coming from the other side of the bathroom door, as he might’ve reasonably expected from you, and not even in the tone of a female’s voice, as he might’ve seen, were Sharon to have appeared by his side. This new voice was deep, and masculine, and in his ear now, chuckling some as a gloved hand pressed the barrel of a gun to his temple.

Bucky didn’t blink.

You stepped outside not wanting to see him.

The bleeding had long since stopped, thanks to the aid of a cool, damp washcloth and a few minutes’ pressure, but even once it ceased, your legs were reluctant to carry you back. You dreaded the thought of having to resume your conversation with Bucky—of having to look him in the eye and tell him all over again that it wasn’t safe for you to be married to him. But you didn’t have much of a choice now, either. This wasn’t your honeymoon, where you could stay locked in the bathroom, try climbing out a window, and hope for the best like you’d done before. You had the man’s child inside you, for fuck’s sake.

That uncomfortable subject and at least a dozen more were already swarming your brain as you made your way out of the bathroom. You’d taken a few extra squares of toilet paper to press into the cut, were looking down at it with a tense, uncertain gaze as you ventured out, when you were obliged to stop just a few steps into the room.

“Hi, honey.”

It wasn’t Bucky.

Your eyes snapped up to the source of the voice in an instant, and, on seeing you were right—that it wasn’t Bucky but a gaunt, grinning blond with a gun to your husband’s head—you almost screamed at the sight.

You’d wanted to scream, anyway. It would’ve been the sane thing to do, and one that nobody could’ve blamed you for in the moment, you reckoned, but strangely the sound never came. You just stared at the two, eyes wide and jaw slightly more lax as your lips made an ‘o’. Bile jumped up in your throat. You wished it would choke you.

‘Please. Don’t.’ was all you could get out.

Johann Schröder’s smile stretched wider.

“Don’t what?”

The question was clearly meant to be derisive, rhetorical. Still, with your fingers trembling, you tried answering:

“Don’t hurt h—”

“Why?”

You watched the gun sink deeper against your husband’s face, and he flinched. Your stomach clenched inside you.

“Why shouldn’t I hurt him, hon? Seems like he’s gotten pretty damn good at doing it to you,” Schröder sneered.

His words stung. The grin didn’t flinch. And, as if to punctuate his sentence, or else remind your husband that he was tied to a chair and entirely at his mercy now, Schröder struck Bucky in the face with the butt of his gun. If an onlooker hadn’t known better, they might’ve mistaken you for the one who’d been hit, though—at last, you unleashed that scream, and you reached out for Bucky, hands open and pathetic and desperate to help.

“Think it hurt as bad as your hand?” Schröder hummed.

Your feet were stumbling forward, “He didn’t mean—”

Another resounding thud against Bucky’s skull, this time hard enough to split his lip in half. If he’d grimaced in the slightest, you would’ve seen the teeth smeared with blood. But, true to form, James Barnes didn’t wince. He hadn’t even seemed to acknowledge the blow as it landed. Just stared at you and, with eyes as hollow and deadened and faintly pleading as you’d ever seen them before, manifested their silent apology to yours—again.

“Bet he didn’t mean to hurt anyone as the Winter Soldier, either. Still couldn’t have felt too good for all the folks he butchered, though.” At that, Schröder’s sick amusement morphed into a laugh, and he was taking Bucky’s collar in his other hand. Shaking him lightly while he spoke.

“Couldn’t have felt all that great for your dad, I bet.”

The diversion turned to you, all toothy smiles and mocking eyes. He didn’t care. He let you stagger another step toward the two of them, even try to get your hands close to Bucky. But when you’d drawn too close, he stopped you cold. Not thinking much else in the moment, you made a move to push Schröder’s arm away, hard, and were shortly rewarded with a shove of your own. He knocked you sideways onto the bed, and you landed on the hand you’d hurt. Before you could let out so much as a sound yourself, Bucky’s voice tore in:

“Schröder.”

Schröder turned. He raised his Ruger to your husband’s head again, as casually as if he’d asked him for the time.

“Yes?”

“Don’t touch her.”

Schröder turned to you. Though he didn’t move the Ruger again, he did point his finger at your form, haplessly curled into itself amidst the covers and pillows.

“Why? Saving all the rough stuff for later, are we?”

You cowered as his free hand reached for you, and just as your husband’s eyes went wide and a vein nearly tore through his skin from how hard it protruded, you cried,

“What do you want?!”

Schröder stopped. He brought his hand to a halt just south of your thigh—and then he dropped his weight on the bed beside you. He gestured indistinctly, almost disbelievingly, toward Bucky. The latter appeared near-apoplectic, nails raking down either arm of the chair.

“What do I want?” Schröder quipped, incredulous, “What do you want, doll? To stay married to him?”

And you knew he’d intended the question to be hurtful; you knew it by the glint in his eye, the goading tone of voice and the look he’d flitted to Bucky—nondescript and yet saying a world more than words could ever convey. He knew what had gone on between you, had likely heard your last conversation in its entirety, and was now using it against you. Mostly to taunt, then to injure your husband with truths he hadn’t yet uncovered himself.

Schröder’s eyes were shining with sadistic delight as he took your hand in his. He didn’t waste another second.

“No, no, that isn’t what you want at all, is it?”

Ignoring the screech of Bucky’s restraints as he tried to lunge out of his chair. Hearing him curse when he failed.

“—you said you’re leaving him, right?”

Schröder slid the thin, glistening ring off the hand he’d been holding before you could even think to stop him.

“—said you want a divorce, is that it?”

Then his grin got so big and conceited and enlivened by the sight of pain working its way onto Bucky’s face that any good sense you’d had left inside you was abandoned in a blink. You didn’t hesitate, or else try and make a pass to retrieve your ring—you just hit the man in the face.

Your fist was small, and his chin was hard. You knew before you ever threw the punch that it’d probably hurt you more than him, but you did it anyway. It succeeded, at the very least, in catching Schröder by surprise and swiftly pissing him off. Seeing this and feeling a bit bolder, you were somehow able to dodge his hands when he lurched for you again. Inside, your own anger flared.

“Why the fuck do you care?” you spat.

You found momentary respite in the corner of the bed, sliding back against a wall that would only protect you for so long. As soon as Schröder regained his bearings, he had you back in his sights and his grasp just as quick.

He dragged you back. He pulled you up. He dug the tips of his fingers so hard into your side that you thought the flesh might tear in two across your ribs. But it didn’t. Crescent-like indentations did leave their mark in a grisly set of five, though. You felt the sting of it as Schröder loosened his grip, then sucked his next breath through his teeth as if calming himself. Your gaze only hardened.

“I care,” he said, once he’d completed this slow inhale. He replaced his touch by pinching your face in one hand and bringing it up to his, expression more like a snarl. Then, raising the gun to your face in his other hand, “because I made a deal with your father. Remember?”

You did. Your head jerked back by force of instinct, but he held it. From every direction, then, you had nothing to hear but the sound of your own pulse thrumming a fast, panicked tempo in your skull. You tasted blood in your mouth without a drop on your tongue. And, had that deafening fear and revulsion been anything less, you likely would’ve heard something else beneath it all.

Would’ve felt it, if you weren’t already so numb: Schröder’s hand sliding its way down your body, diamond ring still stuck to the tip of his index finger. You sensed it as though seeing yourself from another perspective—watching his hand trail lower, lower, lower until something in Bucky split in two and he bellowed:

“SCHRÖDER—”

He said something more after that; you were sure of it. You just couldn’t hear him, or see him, or discern much of anything else but your own racing heart as the man who’d just beat your husband twice and lifted a gun to your head proceeded to press his touch to your belly. Almost conscientious and gentle as he lowered it.

“Was this part of the deal, too, doll?”

Your eyes widened. Realizing—then feeling fear seize you completely. Forgetting the metal at your temple and shaking your head with a force, but slow enough that your husband wouldn’t see it. Meanwhile, across from you both, Bucky seemed more than sufficiently occupied by his own blinding rage—he spit a glob of blood to the floor and, with his teeth bared again, swore he’d kill him.

Over and over and over again, oaths of taking Schröder’s life and making it gruesome and painful and slow filled your ears, but none of it stuck, for either you or Schröder. Instead, your maniacal captor just smiled, leaning in.

“I said, was this part of the deal, Mrs. Barnes?”

The heel of his palm sank into your stomach, and as the shock of his first words began to fade, a pain replaced it. His hand made an impressive demonstration of flattening and forcing itself so hard against the skin that a flurry of stars cropped up in your eyes, and you cried:

“Stop! I-It wasn’t— just— just stop. Stop.”

“Stop? Was it part of the deal or not?”

Schröder bore down even harder.

“It just happened!” you keened. Unsure why you felt compelled to answer for what had gone on at all—addressing the baby in this awful, oblique way—though reckoning it had something to do with the pressure he was applying to your stomach. You tried to squirm back.

But your stuttering pulse and your pleading gaze and the ache in your stomach proved to be all too much for any real progress to be made. You’d scarcely moved off an inch before he drove his palm deeper, and with the agony of a body about to rupture beneath it, a shriek clawed out of your throat. Your mouth fell open, and for once, you couldn’t curtail the pain, or fear. Schröder’s hand had just forced the noise from your mouth, along with some mindless, broken pleas to stop pushing, it hurts, please, please, when the face above yours only brightened. Schröder’s cruel, snide mouth flashed a smile above you, and before you could whine again—

He kissed you.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second.

Still, the moment seemed to stretch indefinitely. And felt perverse. So deeply nauseating and unsettling to every last nerve, muscle, tendon, and bone in your body that the response it evoked could be nothing less than visceral. You didn’t need to think at all to shove him off. Whatever might’ve given you pause with a loaded gun to your head was forgotten in a second, and soon enough, you weren’t alone in letting your reproach be known.

It started off with a crack, then a harsh, crude splintering of wood. A violent rift, from what you could hear of it, and when you turned your head, your suspicions were confirmed: Bucky had snapped half the arm of his chair away from the seat, and his right hand was almost freed.

Whatever barrier he faced in being bound more than four times over with rope seemed immaterial to him now. He could strain as hard as he pleased—feel the coarse synthetic fibers dig into his flesh and leave streaks of red, if not break the skin itself—and any pain, as before, hardly appeared to register with your husband at all. He just muscled through it, thrusting his wrist even harder. The whole force of this movement rocked the chair on its legs, and just when you sensed it might collapse beneath his weight, you felt Schröder stand up. The man didn’t need to move too far or do much else other than drop his hold on you and flip his gun to point it at Bucky instead.

Even when he had, though, Bucky didn’t flinch. His hands were in fists and his drive was like a machine’s—he tried forcing his way out of the right hand’s restraints, and the second the wood gave way, he was shoving it off.

Blind to the firearm Schröder was holding, or his words:

“Stay where you are, Barnes.”

Bucky was just then shaking off the rope that had been loosened by the break in the wood, jaw still tight as ever.

“You’ve got three other limbs to free, my friend, just—”

Schröder was still speaking when you saw his finger slip to the trigger, and it seemed to you it was itching to pull.

“James, stop!”

That plea came from you. More of a strangled cry, really—no more pleasant for either man to hear than it was for your throat to shriek. It did, however, stop Bucky cold. Your husband paused just long enough to meet your gaze. And in it, you saw, at least, that he was all there, if not enraged. But not soldat, or anyone else but himself.

You sighed in relief, despite what seeing two red rivers seeping out of Bucky’s mouth might otherwise provoke.

It was him. You might’ve smiled if another hadn’t cut in.

Schröder seized Bucky’s wrist. With it, you saw his hand just as mangled and bloodied as his lips. Knuckles cracked, slit, and soon to be littered with bruises of every shade, he shocked you again by how calmly he took it. Even when Schröder sank a thumb inside a big, gaping crater of a flesh wound he’d found on the back of his hand, your husband didn’t blink; he just looked at you.

‘I’m sorry.’

When the barrel of the gun returned to his head—this time, at the rear, as Schröder had circled back around the half-broken chair and was leaning over him—you could see the apology lodged in his eyes on full display.

“For safekeeping.” The man wielding the gun seemed almost pleased as he dropped your ring inside the breast pocket of your husband’s shirt, before patting it gently:

“Now where were we?”

A beat. Bucky’s right hand twitched beside him, but evidently, he knew better than to move in that moment.

“Right, right—” Schröder pretended to be remembering, tapping steel to Bucky’s skull, “She’s leaving, isn’t she?”

More silence.

You wanted to speak, beg Schröder for mercy, anything.

“Do you know why that is, Bucky?”

But before you could utter even a word of protest, the voice pressed on. Schröder was leaning in his ear.

“—what you did to her?”

The baby. Brooklyn. All the bloodshed that had ensued last week, leaving your husband completely in the dark. Of course, he couldn’t remember. He hadn’t been himself, and was scarcely more able to control his actions as the Winter Soldier than he could in a dream.

To your horror, Schröder reached down for Bucky’s hand, and, still holding the gun to him with the other, lifted it.

Pointed it.

Pushed it closer to you.

“C’mon, Buck. You don’t want me touching her, right? Why don’t you feel for yourself what she’s been hiding?”

Your blood turned to ice. You’d never felt so immobile—paralyzed—in your life, but seeing the hands drift closer and closer and feeling defenseless to their course, your body went numb. Your limbs grew heavier than lead.

And when you felt the smug, smiling blond guide your husband’s touch toward your head, you understood it all.

You were perched at the edge of the bed a foot away. Schröder was nudging Bucky forward in his chair, urging him to reach out and tilt her chin a little, go on, that’s it. And neither one of you had a choice, so he touched you. His fingers, directed by someone else, were obliged to brush the skin of your chin, your jaw, your cheek, and your brow, before finally settling above your left temple.

Your husband felt the cut—touched the stitches.

You winced, but not from any physical pain. It was Bucky’s face as the tips of his fingers skimmed the wound. The look of chagrin that crossed his eyes. Then bewilderment. Fear, as plain as anyone could see it— was he the cause of that? Had the hurt been from him?

You couldn’t bear to answer him, so you looked away. It was Schröder, again, who had all the power to speak.

“Can’t remember pushing her down?” he said, tone dark, “Making her split her head open on the bedside table because soldat didn’t know his own strength—only that he had to keep her safe—and sensed a threat outside?”

Bucky shook his head. His face was grave.

Schröder kept making him prod the skin.

“It’s bruised here, too. You feel it?”

Your husband did, and you thought it might break him. So tender and forlorn were the eyes, raking over every spot where a touch, his touch, had left you hurt before.

If nothing else could bring you back to your senses, the wounded look in Bucky’s gaze was sure to get it done.

You hardly thought again, just croaked: ‘It’s not his fault.’

Schröder’s hand then descended your neck, your torso.

As if he hadn’t heard you at all—

“You already saw what happened to her hand.”

—and forcing Bucky’s touch lower still.

“But what about here?”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt your husband’s hand come to rest on your stomach.

It was like a fire had ignited in your lower half, and nothing close to the soft, pleasurable kind. Not the flutter felt in anticipation of a touch from your husband, not the desirous sort. In fact, you dreaded it now; seeing Schröder over his shoulder, urging him closer, making him flatten his big, broad, scorching palm over your belly.

What should’ve been the ecstatic scene you’d conjured in your mind at least a hundred times since marrying him—the picture of domestic bliss as you said it, smiling, I’m pregnant—was now nothing short of torture. Choice all but stripped from you here, forced to emerge inside this terrible place, you found yourself needing to shrink back, shake your head, look to Schröder’s stubborn, unyielding gaze and beg him not to make you do this now. Not now.

Not here, with Bucky’s skin a shade of glacial white and his eyes going wide, taking on a look you’d never seen.

“What do you—”

He stared hard at the hand on your belly, but it didn’t last for long. As if realization were trying to seep in, he couldn’t meet it. His eyes flitted back to your face.

“Baby, what’s—” he tried again, stammering.

“—right, that’s it, Mr. Barnes.” That was Schröder.

Satisfied in the suspense of the moment keeping your husband still, he lifted his hand from Bucky’s and snapped, that’s it, and clapped him over the shoulder.

Congratulating him before the truth had even sunk in.

“A baby, that’s right! You’re going to be a father, Buck.”

And how far was the look on Bucky’s face from the one you’d dreamed before. The lips you’d envisioned in a smile now twisting bleakly, parting slightly, and the eyes you’d once hoped to be bright and elated only staring back with rings of red enveloping the irises. Whatever tears formed at his waterline were decidedly not of joy.

Only guilt.

“You did it.”

Desperation.

More moisture in his eyes as his hand started to tremble across your stomach, voice hoarse and soft, “Is it true?”

You didn’t need to nod. You just watched him, let your own eyes fill with the worst, stinging tears you had felt in your life, and from the silence that followed, Bucky knew.

As if the life beneath his palm were something dear, but still too much for him to comprehend, he shook his head. He stroked his thumb over the cotton of your pyjamas and tried inching closer, as much as his restraints would allow him. Then, with words that were audibly strained, but always gentle, he lowered his voice—as if to keep the communication between you two, despite your position:

“I love you.”

His hand was still on your belly as he said it. He reached up to cup your face. Even lower than before, “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

That much was evident from every look he’d given you tonight. Every move he made a de facto apology, all actions in the vein of atonement, it couldn’t possibly escape your mind or his that he knew he’d done wrong. It was only a matter of accepting this—maybe coming to terms with the fact that your life wasn’t safe in his hands—for the guilt plaguing Bucky to multiply. Paralyze him.

There was no better time for Schröder to strike. Just as the anguish had flooded Bucky’s face completely, and his hand had had to lower itself from want of strength, a sound split the air. Bucky was so lost in his thoughts that it didn’t even register at first, but the impact was real, and it was harsh: Schröder punched him squarely in the jaw. The next, swift snap was his nasal bone taking a blow, and breaking beneath it. Blood breezed down and into his mouth. Feeling warm, his lips and chin doused in a second, he sensed nothing else. He might’ve groaned.

He caught another swift right hook, and his mind went blank. Nothing of substance threatened to materialize between his ears, save for the rush of blood through and from his skull and the dim recognition of something ugly.

Something horrific.

He couldn’t protect you.

His body was as much an idle waste as it was a danger. Useless now, as he was tied to this chair, and a risk to your well-being even if he weren’t. The hazard was him.

Schröder hit him again, and Bucky realized that the ringing he’d heard in his ears was your screaming.

“I’m doing her a favor,” Schröder spat before shoving him back in the chair, almost knocking it sideways.

The blond advanced with ease. His knuckles were drenched in blood; none of it was his. When he reached for Bucky again, the resistance was slight, and a simple, firm grip on the collar was all that was needed to drag his frame to sit straight. Bucky was barely upright for a second before the next—and worst—blow struck his face. His whole head rang with it, reeling, but still, he could make out the words as they were spoken to him.

“She’ll never be safe with you, Barnes. Never—” and at the last, Schröder lowered his gun. Started to loosen the rope from Bucky’s left arm, “—I could free you now, and you still wouldn’t get within an inch of what you want.”

He nudged the rope away and let it fall to the floor. Bucky lifted his hand, but the effort was in vain. No sooner had a finger of his stirred than Schröder was delivering a kick to the chair and letting it splinter. Topple. Skitter a half-foot across the hardwood floor with Bucky’s ankles still bound to it, before finally, gracelessly, breaking apart.

Bucky was on the floor, blinking through a stream of blood and a sea of muddied thoughts when Schröder kicked the chair again. The rope slackened some more.

“Her own father knew as much, so he made me a deal to take her off of your hands. Settle his debts the way he should’ve done the first time around,” Schröder said, and now his tone was lower. Lethal as it ever was, and stern.

“I know how much you hate to lose your playthings, Buck, but this one’s better off with me, I promise.”

And, as if to emphasize his point, Schröder turned and reached for you. Bucky’s own hands were slow, fumbling in fits and bursts to get the rope unwound from his ankles, but they were determined. He just couldn’t get the bleeding to stop, the ringing to subside, or his brain, in its concussed state, to let him move with a little more agility. He’d been hit too many times. He could barely lift his head off his shoulders and hold it straight, so he was forced to stay where he was, keep at his task, and listen.

“You’re weak when you’re not soldat.”

Using his knuckles, Schröder brushed the blood that was evidently all Bucky’s across your cheek, and you flinched.

“When you make the switch, still…you’re inhuman.”

Then he tilted your head, making you show them both the mutilated, stitched-up flesh above your temple. Again, you tried to slink away, but his touch was firm.

“Don’t you think your bride deserves better than that? Your child? Forced to live in fear of that thing you are?”

Blood coursed down Bucky’s face, and his lips were curled apart in a grimace, mouth hanging slightly ajar. His eyes fixed their look on you. The rope was undone.

He’d just started to try and stand when the edge of his vision blurred. He felt the lacerations in his face pulse as one, and with it, half his sight went skewed to the left. Schröder couldn’t help but crack a smile seeing him stumble, pitch back, and barely catch himself on the bedside table. When he stood, he was mostly hunched.

“Look at you, Buck. You can’t try and save her like this,” Schröder taunted, drawing you closer, “So stop trying.”

The man’s hand was like ice holding your face. The grip grew tighter when he saw your husband limping your way, and before either one of you could move, the index of Schröder’s other hand had slid down to the trigger. He didn’t wait to give another warning before he did it—just pointed the gun and fired one shot over Bucky’s head.

His aim was good. The bullet missed your husband by less than an inch. The gun had gone off by your ear, and immediately, you seized the side of your head as a sharp, searing pain cropped up. Your skull was still ringing when you heard the thing discharge again, and you realized it had been aimed at Bucky’s neck. He’d ventured another step, and Schröder had fired a second round to graze the top of his shoulder. Crimson bloomed through his shirt.

Bucky should’ve stumbled again. He might’ve staggered back with a grunt of pain, lifted a quick, reflexive hand to feel the wound, but the sense of it all was slow to reach him. The moments that passed him were delayed just the same, as if the world around him were distorted—the fibers of time tugged and stretched before his eyes—and he could hardly keep himself straight. When he got another look down the barrel of the gun, he didn’t blink. Couldn’t see, really. It was all misshapen sights and sounds and a dim recognition that his mind was in a fog.

Somewhere from within that mist, he heard, faintly:

“I’ll go— I’ll go— I’ll go with you, I’ll go— just stop.”

Schröder turned to you, and the smile that he wore was cruel, but Bucky wasn’t able to make out the expression.

All he could see then, to the faintest extent, was you—your face, gripped hard in another man’s hand, eyes pleading and wet with tears, and a slightly slack jaw.

“Leave him for me?” Schröder repeated, sneering.

You nodded. Blinked. Rolled your tongue along the inside of your cheek before pulling it back and biting down once. There was a hint of a wince in your eyes, but, from what Bucky could tell, it vanished just as fast as it came.

Your lips parted again. Your eyes widened a little.

“So the girl has some fucking sense.” That was Schröder.

He’d had his weapon re-holstered and your face firmly seized in both of his hands in no more than a second.

What came next surprised no one, though the sensations of disgust and rage were as quick to turn a stomach as the shock would have done. Schröder bent down and, having pulled your face closer to his, kissed you again.

Schröder’s mouth was glistening with a grin and Bucky’s own blood—smeared all over your face from how hard he’d been holding you—when he looked up and turned.

“Sensible and sweet, isn’t she? Tastes like it, too.”

Bucky saw nothing but red. It wasn’t just blood crowding his vision now but violence and rancor and outright hatred, stirring his limbs to start moving again when the rest of his body was plainly too battered to venture an inch in that condition. He staggered again, watched you again, and had made it almost halfway across the room when another sight slowed him, if only for a moment.

Schröder’s lips were back on yours, as if to mock him, but what startled him, really, was the way you’d opened your mouth. You couldn’t mean it. Clearly. Schröder was gripping your jaw, forcing it open—it had to be—and he was coaxing your tongue out from inside and weaving it with his. Once more, time moved like molasses, and that was all your husband had had to see: you kissing him back, gripping his arm through the thick, black tactical gear, and still parting your lips more and more for him. Like you needed a touch, or something, worse than ever.

That stalled Bucky, though he was nowhere close to stopping now. Briefly preoccupied, and seemingly shocked as well that you’d accepted the kiss so eagerly this time, Schröder didn’t see the approach. If he had, he likely would’ve turned and made a move for his Ruger, but as it was, he had only to blink—and there was Bucky.

He hit him with a force that was blinding, directly to the side of his head so hard that he’d had no choice but to separate from you. Schröder was stunned one second and on the floor in the next. Bucky threw him there, kicked him down, and, wavering for only a moment to cock back the shoulder that’d been shot, he ignored the pain and punched the man again. And again. And again.

There was a callousness, an indolence, and an ease with which he was able to inflict the pain, that much was evident. What didn’t seem so natural, at least in Bucky’s mind, was the weight that was in his hands: Schröder’s body felt limp before he’d even landed the second blow.

The pressure grew heavier and heavier in his hands the harder, and more frequently, he delivered each hit, but for now, he didn’t care. Bucky kept on punching until the face beneath him was gnarled and bloody, and his own fist, too, slashed every which way with more cuts than he was able to count. He would’ve kept going—could’ve ignored the stabbing pain in his shoulder for as long as it would take to ensure the man was dead—but as it was, he refused to ignore the voice he heard. It was yours.

Muffled now, as your body was bent to the side and your head drooped lower still. Your voice was soft but clear:

“Bucky, please, stop.”

He did.

He dropped the man’s collar from his hands as soon as he’d heard you say it, and he turned away as if nothing had transpired behind him at all. His focus was on you.

“Baby—”

To his surprise, he watched you spit on the floor.

Your face was grim and almost sick, and you spit again.

The look grew even worse, and afterward, you didn’t waste a second more; you stood and left the room.

Bucky was stunned at first, and his instinct had been to follow. Then he heard a rattling sound beside him. He glanced down and paled, seeing Schröder there.

His face had turned blue much sooner than Bucky had expected—and not from any bruising but a lack of oxygen in his lungs. He was choking, foaming slightly at the mouth while he gasped for air. Surely, it hadn’t been the hits that caused it. The whites of Schröder’s eyes were as conspicuous as he’d ever seen them. Desperate.

Bucky swiftly got the sense that the life of his former captor was lost, and frankly, he didn’t care enough to watch him die. He left what remained of Schröder’s form to continue writhing on the floor, choking and sputtering for a breath that would never come, and went after you.

Downstairs, he found you hunched over the kitchen sink—spitting, retching, and trembling, too, but breathing.

You let the water from the faucet fill your mouth, and you rinsed again. You winced as something stuck your cheek.

Bucky drew closer, quickly, and when he was right by your side, he saw you spit a shard of glass into the sink. He looked over to the counter, and he spotted three more

They were minuscule, really. Nothing quite the size to leave a wound too deep, but sharp enough to cut your lips, your tongue, or the insides of your cheeks. When Bucky leaned in, he saw droplets of red joining the flow of the water beneath it. You coughed over and over again

“Don’t,” you croaked, seeing Bucky reach for the glass.

Before he could reply: “It’s the poison. From Madripoor.”

Your husband’s blood went cold in his veins. He didn’t touch the glass, but he did press closer to you, feeling his insides churn as the cogs started to turn in his head.

The vial of poison you’d been given to slip in Schröder’s drink at the Foxy Den—how the hell had you gotten it back? Why would you think you needed it, if he— but no, that couldn’t be the case. There wasn’t a shot you just—

“—put it in your mouth?” Bucky couldn’t curb the fear in his voice. He reached for you and spun you to face him.

“Did it kill him?”

Your eyes were wide for entirely different reasons. Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing; his mouth was dry.

“I didn’t want to kiss him,” you went on, voice shaking a little, “I didn’t— I just— I couldn’t get him the poison any other way. I knew he’d kiss me again, and when he did—”

“I know,” Bucky said. He smoothed the hair from your face, shaking his head. Feeling his stomach clench with fear and dread as he hurried to get a look in your mouth.

You’d snuck the vial inside your cheek, then crushed it between your teeth before Schröder had kissed you. You’d all but forced him to swallow the poison, shoving your tongue down his throat, but what of the stuff that remained? The rough, trembling fingers of Bucky’s hand were trying to pry your lips apart as gently as they could, ensure all the serum was out, but at present, you wouldn’t let him. You pushed back gently, though not too far to prevent your own touch from roaming his shoulder.

“The bullet—” you started.

“Barely nicked me,” Bucky cut in, “Baby, I need to see—”

That you’re safe. That you won’t be hurt in any way. He couldn’t finish the thought himself, having seen what the poison did to Schröder. Instead, he just held you closer and fought the lump that was starting to form in his throat. Adrenaline had worked well enough to clear his mind of the haze, but the rest of him was all high-strung.

Your clothes clung to you both, wet with blood and sweat. Your breaths were fast. Your expressions were feral, eyes no calmer as they scanned over the other’s form and soaked in every trace of what had happened. Bucky in his formalwear and you in something close to a chemise—like your honeymoon night all over again—you each got a glimpse of the gore ornamenting yourselves and let the room fall quiet, if only for a minute or two.

Your husband was the one to break the silence, at length, with cracked and grisly hands sliding down to your hips.

“You’re okay?”

His touch shifted you back in place to sit on the counter.

“I’m alright.”

You wanted to say more; assure him, in a voice as sedate as you could manage, that this wasn’t his fault. Whether he would believe a word of what you said was a separate question, but, at any rate, it didn’t matter. The next thing you knew, Bucky was slotting himself in the space between your legs and pulling you into his arms.

In spite of himself and all the wounds, he held you tight.

“You’re alright,” he repeated.

His face sank into the crook of your neck, and you felt his muscles contract again—pulling you closer—as he drew a shaky breath against your skin. You hugged him back.

“Are you?” Your voice was small.

In a blink, Bucky resurfaced. He lifted his head from your neck and, still holding you, hadn’t seemed to have heard.

“The baby,” he said quickly.

He stepped back. Lowered his gaze and his hands to trail over your hips and near your stomach, and he stared, as if trying to make sense of something dire. His blue eyes were wide, and they assumed such a look of panic that you feared a blood vessel might actually burst in one.

After all the great lengths he’d gone to, ensuring you were safe and taking extra precautions, on the off-chance you might be pregnant, here you were.

And there he went, sliding his touch lower and lower again until his hand was pressed into your belly, and the gaze you’d once thought soft before had all but melted into tenderness—delicacy. Complete, loving unreserve.

When his eyes met yours a second time, they were shiny.

Wet with the only kind of tears you’d want to see in them.

“You’re really…” he started, just to taper off, blinking.

And then his cheeks were dotted with the tiny, round droplets, and he’d finally ventured a smile for the first time in what seemed like ages and you couldn’t keep from reaching for him. The second you’d lifted your arms you were back in his, lips and nose smushed against the front of his stained white button-up and breathing deep.

Or trying to, anyway. Bucky had you squeezed so tight to his chest you had nothing but his shirt to inhale at first. You didn’t mind, and when he pulled away a moment later, you realized that your eyes, too, were filling up quick. You had to steel yourself against a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to emerge—the aftermath of a half-dozen traumas laid bare over the last hour—but the longer you were here, and the more your husband stared at you like that, the quicker your courage was depleted. In the span of five seconds, your senses were shot to hell. All you could think was what you could feel, and all you felt was Bucky: his arms and his hands and the raw, blistering heat between your bodies. The rest was noise.

It surprised you both when you kissed him. Physically, your mouth and his were hardly up to do it, injured as they were, but the impulse was strong, and it flowed between you. As soon as your lips latched onto his, Bucky was holding your face, molding his body to yours without so much as a second thought, and the mouth you met was sturdy. Hungry in the way it kissed back.

A string of words from Schröder flashed in your mind—‘Never be safe’—and you grit your teeth together, snagging the cusp of Bucky’s lower lip as you did it. He groaned. Before you could even try to apologize, though, he was gripping your face harder in his hands and coaxing your mouth open with his tongue. His front was still flush with yours, and your legs were starting to wind around his hips. Your husband nudged you back against the cabinets, and from the force of that push, you felt it.

Felt him.

Surely, it had had to take two very fucked up individuals to get all hot and bothered from a bloodbath that had just taken place; but, again, here you were—together.

And there you went, grinding your lower half with his.

“Doll?” Bucky broke out, word slurred just a little.

For a second, you thought he was going to stop you. Your eyes scanned his, and you were already planning to apologize for being so horny, it must just be the—

“You know I love you, right?” he breathed.

You blinked. You were about to nod, when you felt the bulge in his slacks start to rub against your barely-clothed heat, and something akin to a shockwave coursed through your frame. It couldn’t be helped. A monsoon of hyper-sensitized pleasure trembled over the skin in a way you’d never felt it before, and suddenly you were letting out a moan: a muffled cry of, ‘Yes, I-I know.’

Your husband swallowed and stared, slightly taken aback by the reaction his erection had produced. He’d never felt that either. At least from what he could remember.

The truth was that he’d never had a pregnant wife before—someone whose body was now extraordinarily responsive to his touch, nearly aching for him.

When you scooted your butt to the edge of the counter and dug your heels in the backs of his legs, humping him, almost, he got the idea. Bucky swallowed again.

“I love you too, I— I—” you started, already out of breath, “I just really need you to fuck me. Can you— please—”

Bucky didn’t need to be asked once, much less twice. He already had his belt, button, and zip undone before you could even look down, and then your own pyjama shorts were sliding off too. The counter was cool against your skin, but your husband’s warmth was more than enough to compensate for the loss. You smiled again, sheepish.

“It’s just…hormones,” you said, quieter toward the end.

You weren’t sure why you felt so ashamed to simply say, ‘James, I’ve been damn near insane with desire ever since you put a baby in me. Can you give me five more?’ But you did. You felt your cheeks start to heat as your lower half was left exposed to the air, and Bucky slipped his hand down between your legs, practically groaning:

“Honey, you’re soaked.”

There wasn’t one iota of shame in his tone.

He was more than happy to find you drenched beneath his touch. He had a smile on his face and a warmth bleeding from every fingertip as he caressed that soft, tender spot. You didn’t need to tell him what was on your mind, either. He sensed something was making you shy, and rather than have you say it aloud, he just touched you gentler, stroked the skin more affectionately, and tilted his head so only you could hear him, quiet as ever:

“That’s my girl. Feeling good for me?”

You felt your heartbeat between your thighs.

“My baby,” Bucky went on, voice dulcet and slow.

Your body was trembling at the edge, waiting. Impatient.

“My wife,” he said that with a smile, into your neck.

He lowered you onto his length, and you whined.

“Mother of my child.” The smile got bigger.

You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. Feeling him slide inside the most precious, wet, pliable part of you, stretching you out, you couldn’t help the sounds you made. You felt full in a whole new way; the groan Bucky let out when you were impaled down to the base of his cock said he shared the feeling. He throbbed inside you.

“You’re—fuck.” Bucky’s words broke off at the sensation.

Your walls were as slick as ever, your body delicate, rolling your hips to the first gentle thrusts that his shaft carved inside. Neither one of you could last long like this.

Still, at the threat of sublime pleasure, you felt fear, briefly: Schröder’s implacable stare—and the thousands more like him in HYDRA. You couldn’t help but grip Bucky tighter, willing these thoughts away with the rhythm of your body over his. Feeling him fill you up, fuck you with quick, deliberate thrusts and hold you, ‘That’s it, take what you need, sweet girl, you’re okay.’

You wished you were. You wanted to be. With every stab of Bucky’s hips, you hoped this would be the last night you ever feared for you or your child’s life, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t true. This was everything your husband’s varied ‘enterprises’ entailed, and a life with him meant never knowing a day without it—fear.

The head of Bucky’s cock grazed an especially sensitive ridge in your walls, and you whimpered into his shoulder.

You smelled blood.

He pushed you back against the counter and pounded harder, breaths heavy and labored and gruff as he spoke:

“You’re okay, baby, it’s alright.”

Your mind tried clinging to that thought, nodding along as if to convince yourself. The pleasure grew stronger, and your body was hot. Everything was heightened. Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes or his lips or his rough, bloodied touch from roaming you wherever he could reach, and he kept rutting his hips, assuring you gently, again and again, that it was all okay. He was right here.

The pleasure from the depths of your body was beyond your control—you couldn’t help it when the band inside of you snapped. You held Bucky closer and you moaned, more desperate and needy and soaking for him, taking something from him, and knowing the bliss you felt would only steal the dark thoughts for a moment or two.

Bucky’s eyes said it just the same. He couldn’t keep stuffing you full, feeling his pleasure hit its peak, and finally painting your insides without sharing that look.

You were less than halfway down from your highs when you felt him go still, panting fast, then hold your face.

“I love you.”

It was desperate. Hoping for something.

“I love you, too,” you told him, and you meant it.

But there was more. Both of you knew there was more.

“I can’t be married to you, Bucky.”

You didn’t know why it had to come out now, but the emotions were there—his gaze had all but drawn it out.

Still sheathed inside you, your husband tensed. He looked as if he might try and shake his head, but the movement was stalled by his own momentary shock. He’d known the words were coming, but the sound of you saying them now wasn’t any less jarring to hear. Before he could reply, you found yourself cutting back in:

“Not now, at least. We need some…time. To think.”

You weren’t sure what you were saying, just that your lips were moving and every new word was hurting him more.

“Even with Schröder gone, there are so many…dangers for both—or, all—of us, and I don’t know…I just can’t—”

—imagine bringing a child into a world like this. Like his.

You didn’t need to say it.

The pain in Bucky’s eyes already communicated as much, and the conviction in your own only convinced him that you’d meant it—and what you said was the truth. You couldn’t stay in a marriage that wasn’t safe.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something more, the man surprised you when he squeezed your hand.

Nodding, almost imperceptibly, in front of you.

“I can wait,” he said, “Whenever you’re ready, doll.”

His voice was hoarse, words strained from the lump in his throat as he spoke, but the message was sincere.

“Whenever you feel safe,” he added, softly.

You wanted to hold him again. Like before, your eyes began well with something stinging and harsh, but the look you’d fixed on him was filled with nothing but love. You would’ve reached for him then, if he hadn’t moved his hand to his pocket. He felt around inside it, briefly.

Then Bucky retrieved your wedding ring.

Holding you up against him, pressed snugly into the counter with your legs still wrapped around his lower half, he pinched the silver band between his forefinger and thumb and held it up to you. It glistened in the light.

“The next time you wear it, I want it to be because you chose to marry me. Not for anything, or anyone, else.”

Nothing arranged, no game, no being forced to stay.

You nodded and had to blink through a layer of tears.

Bucky’s thumb traced the moisture, cupping your cheek in one of his hands. He’d had to keep blinking himself, and before you could reach for him, he kissed you.

“I really hope you marry me again one day, Mrs. Barnes.”

You smiled, having parted but still holding on.

“I think I would like that, too. One day.”

The next thing you heard was a sound at the front door: what sounded like a crash. Half a dozen sets of feet stumbling inside, crowding the foyer, making a loud, frantic clamor that you and Bucky knew only too well. The two of you scrambled to get your clothes back on as Steve, Nat, Sam, and Sharon all seemed to yell at once.

You had one hell of a story to tell them.

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[a-lexia11]

Womanizer (Part 1)

Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader

Word count: Around 14k

Warning:highly suggestive (minors DNI), some angst.

Based on this request

Part 2

Note: I will be posting Part 2 in a few minutes, I just need to proofread it!

You relocated to Barcelona, hoping for a fresh start—a new city, new people, and a chance to rebuild your life with your three-year-old daughter, Mia.

You needed a place where the past wouldn’t haunt you, where you could finally focus on giving Mia the stable life she deserves.

It hasn’t been easy. You spent five years with your ex-boyfriend, someone you once believed was your forever. But over time, the cracks began to show.

He cheated on you more times than you care to remember, always finding excuses, always making promises he never kept.

When you discovered you were pregnant, you thought maybe things would change—that becoming parents might finally bring him closer.

Instead, the moment he found out about the pregnancy, he walked out on you without a second thought.

He left you to carry the weight of it all alone—heartbroken, pregnant, and unsure of what the future held.

Here in Barcelona, you met your neighbor, Carmen, a true blessing in your life. From the very first day you moved in, she was there—knocking on your door with a plate of home-cooked food, her warm smile making you feel like you weren’t quite so far from home.

Additionally, Carmen speaks English, which has been a great relief. Navigating a new country is challenging enough, and trying to learn Spanish on top of it all has been overwhelming at times.

Still, you believe your Spanish is at a decent level.

So when you first realized she was fluent, it felt like another little gift from the universe.

Carmen, with her silver-streaked hair and lively eyes, quickly became a constant in your new world, someone who seemed to understand without asking too many questions.

“You remind me of my daughter,” she’d say often, her tone affectionate as she’d pass by your door or hand you a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery down the street.

It didn’t take long before she offered you a job at her pride and joy—her little flower shop on the corner. “It’s nothing fancy,” she’d told you with a shrug, “but it’s my heart. And I could use the help. You’ll like it, trust me.”

At first, you hesitated. You hadn’t planned on working with flowers, or working at all, not while you were still getting your bearings in a new city.

But Carmen’s offer came at just the right time, and something about her made it impossible to refuse.

The shop itself is small but beautiful. The soft light from the street filters through the windows in the morning, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.

You spend your first days trimming stems, arranging blooms, and greeting customers. It’s peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected—almost therapeutic.

——

One afternoon, while you’re carefully arranging a bouquet behind the counter, the soft chime of the doorbell rang through the shop. You glanced up, and there she is—Alexia Putellas.

Her arrival is impossible to miss. Not only because she’s Barcelona’s football darling, her face splashed across billboards all over the city, but because she’s also infamous for her reputation. A womanizer. The kind of woman who seems to have a new lover every week.

Carmen had spoken of her often, describing how Alexia visits the shop almost daily. To Carmen, she’s practically like a daughter.

But until now, you hadn’t seen Alexia yourself. She’s been away, traveling for football matches.

Your daughter, Mia, is a huge fan of hers, idolizing her both as a footballer and a larger-than-life figure.

You’d never told Mia about Alexia’s reputation though—it wasn’t something your three-year-old needed to know obviously.

Alexia entered the shop with that unmistakable swagger, every movement filled with a quiet confidence that immediately grabs attention.

She’s not alone either. A shorter woman is draped under her arm, looking relaxed and cozy, as if she’s used to being in such close proximity to Alexia.

It’s unclear whether she’s a friend or one of Alexia’s many "flings," but the way they moved together hints at something more, or perhaps nothing at all. With Alexia, it’s hard to tell.

Alexia greeted Carmen as though she’s just stopped by to visit family.

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carmen’s cheek. “¡Hola, Carmen!” she said warmly. “¡Qué gusto verte! Te he echado de menos.” (Hi, Carmen! It's so good to see you! I've missed you)

Carmen beamed, clearly delighted to see her. “¡Alexia! ¡Qué alegría verte de nuevo!” she exclaimed , her voice filled with affection. (Alexia! What a joy to see you again)

“Hace tiempo que no pasabas por aquí. ¿Cómo te ha ido? Todo bien con los partidos?” (It's been a while since you last came by. How have you been? Everything going well with the matches?)

“Todo bien, gracias. Una temporada agotadora, pero estamos ganando, así que vale la pena,” Alexia replied, her eyes drifting around the shop before locking onto you. (All good, thanks. It's been an exhausting season, but we're winning, so it's worth it)

“Esta es Laura,” she added casually, introducing the woman at her side. (This is Laura)

“Laura, te presento a Carmen, la dueña de esta maravillosa floristería.” (Laura, let me introduce you to Carmen, the owner of this wonderful flower shop)

Laura smiled kindly at Carmen. “Encantada, Carmen,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. (Nice to meet you, Carmen)

“El placer es mío, Laura,” Carmen replied. “¿Qué te trae por Barcelona?” (The pleasure is mine, Laura.What brings you to Barcelona?)

Laura shrugged with a small laugh. “Estoy aquí de visita. Alexia me está mostrando la ciudad.” (I'm here visiting. Alexia is showing me around the city.)

The conversation flowed easily between them, but Alexia’s gaze kept drifting back to you.

Her eyes swept over you in a way that felt unsettling—almost predatory, as if she were sizing you up.

It’s a look you’ve seen before—back when you were too trusting, too naive, and ended up burned by someone who once gazed at you the same way.

After a bit of back-and-forth, Carmen invited Laura to check out some of the newer flower arrangements, leading her away from the counter. And that’s when Alexia seized her moment.

She walked over to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hola, guapa,” she said in a tone dripping with confidence. “No creo que nos hayamos conocido. Soy Alexia.” (Hello, gorgeous.I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alexia)

You focused on your work, refusing to meet her gaze. “Y/N,” you replied coolly, your voice polite but distant.

“Un placer, Y/N,” Alexia continued, clearly undeterred by your indifference. (Nice to meet you, Y/N)

She leaned casually on the counter, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you arranged the flowers. “Sabes, tienes un gran talento con las flores”. (You know, you have a real talent with flowers)

You kept your expression neutral, fully aware of what she was trying to do. You were tired of smooth talkers, especially someone like Alexia, who likely believed she could charm anyone into bed.

You’ve seen it all before—Mia’s father had the same cocky attitude before he left you when things got tough.

Without looking up, you switched to English, knowing full well that Alexia speaks it fluently. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with someone else.”

Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, what a beautiful voice you have, Y/N,” she replied in flawless English, her thick accent making her cockiness even more apparent.

“She’s not my girlfriend, don’t worry. Just a friend… we have a lot of fun together.” She winked at you, making her meaning painfully clear.

You rolled your eyes and refocused on the flowers, hoping that by ignoring her, she would eventually leave you alone.

But Alexia leaned closer, not giving up so easily. “You seem annoyed. I could help with that, you know,” she said, her voice low and suggestive.

You let out a huff, finally meeting her gaze. “You’re the one annoying me.”

Alexia chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “Feisty. I like it,” she said, leaning even closer, her grin widening. “You know, people like you? They’re always incredible in bed.”

You shot her a withering glare but remained silent, resolved not to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

You figured that if you didn’t engage, she would get bored and leave. Just before she could say anything else, though, Laura called for her from across the shop.

Alexia straightened up, glancing over at Laura before turning back to you with a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be right back,” she said, winking playfully before sauntering off.

You watched as she approached Laura, wrapping her arms around her from behind and brushing her lips against the top of Laura’s head.

As if sensing your gaze, Alexia glanced back your way and sent you another wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.

You rolled your eyes again, muttering under your breath as you gave her the finger. Alexia just grinned, clearly amused, before turning back to Laura.

Eventually, they returned to the counter to pay. Carmen chatted happily with them as they gathered their things, but you kept your focus on your work, doing your best to ignore Alexia’s presence.

As they finished paying, Alexia turned to you one last time. “Adios, Y/N,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You didn’t bother replying, simply giving her a blank look as she left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her.

Once they were gone, Carmen walked over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently. “I left you alone with Alexia. She can be… intense.”

“Intense is an understatement.”you replied with a small laugh.

Carmen chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, I know. She really enjoys the company of women, but I promise you, she’s a good person at heart. You just need to get to know her better.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure,” you muttered, not believing a word of it.

——

“Mommy!” Your daughter’s voice called out as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment, returning home from work.

“Hi, baby! I missed you so much,” you said, scooping her up and wrapping her in a tight hug, showering her face with kisses.

“I missed you too!” she giggled, her small arms clinging to you.

You gently set her down and handed her the single flower you’d brought home. It had become a ritual—bringing her a different flower each week because she absolutely adored them.

“Ooh, this one is so pretty! Thank you, Mommy,” she said, planting a kiss on your cheek before dashing off to her room, likely to add her new flower to the others.

“Muchísimas gracias, María,” you said, turning to María, Mia’s babysitter, who had been helping you since you arrived in Barcelona. You handed her a small envelope with money. (Thank you very much,María)

“You’re welcome, Y/N. I love taking care of her. Es una niña maravillosa,” María responded warmly, her smile genuine. (She’s a wonderful girl)

María has been babysitting Mia since you moved to Barcelona. As Mia hasn’t started school yet, she’s still learning Spanish, and María has played a key role in helping her with that.

“Mia, come say goodbye to María, please,” you called out.

Mia came running, her face lighting up as she threw herself into María’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Adiós, María,” she said in sweet, accented Spanish.

“Adiós, Mia. Hasta mañana,” María replied, giving her a final hug before turning to you. “Adiós,” she said, and you echoed her farewell as she left.

After dinner, Mia begged you to let her watch the Barcelona match. You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of seeing Alexia again, even if only on the screen, but Mia’s big, pleading eyes made it impossible to refuse.

Now, you’re settled in front of the TV with Mia snuggled next to you, both of you watching the match. Mia is practically vibrating with excitement.

When Alexia scored a goal, Mia leaped up from the couch, clapping her hands and cheering loudly. “Did you see that, Mommy? It was amazing!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she mimicked Alexia’s celebration, kissing her shirt just like Alexia did on the screen.

“Yes, I saw that,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart wasn’t in it. You couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration at how deeply Mia admired Alexia.

“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Mia declared, her gaze fixed intently on the TV. Her little hands were raised, as if she were celebrating her own goal.

“Eww, no,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Why not?” Mia asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I want to be a great player like Alexia. you think I can’t ?”

“Shit, Y/N, think before you speak!” you mentally reprimanded yourself, recognizing that your impulsive reaction could have hurt her feelings.

Your heart melted at the sincerity shining in her eyes.

“Of course you can be a great player,” you said, lifting Mia onto your lap and kissing her forehead.

“Even better than Alexia. But remember, you don’t have to be like her. You can be yourself and still be amazing.”

“Yes! I can be better!” she exclaimed, her spirits lifted. She turns back to the TV, still nestled in your arms, eyes glued to the game.

As you watch the match, you can’t help but feel conflicted. You understand that Alexia’s skill on the field has earned her immense admiration and a place in Mia’s heart.

Yet, you found it difficult to reconcile your daughter’s admiration for someone whose reputation clashed so sharply with your own values.

——

“Hola, guapa. I missed you since yesterday,” you heard Alexia’s voice, laced with her trademark confidence, as you arranged some flowers in a pot.

Startled, you turned to find her standing just behind you. With Carmen out for her dentist appointment, it was just you and Alexia. You let out a sigh, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you.

You attempted to ignore her, concentrating hard on your task at hand.

“Hey, it’s rude to ignore a customer,” Alexia teased, her tone playfully mocking. “I might just have to tell Carmen about this.”

“You’re not a customer, just a nuisance,” you shot back curtly as you made your way toward the register.

Alexia followed you, casually leaning against the counter with her elbow propped up and her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed intently on you.

“Oh, me encanta cuando las mujeres se hacen las difíciles. Es un gran excitante“ (Oh, I love it when women play hard to get. It’s such a turn-on)

“I’m not playing hard to get; I genuinely have no interest,” you replied, focusing on cutting the roses.

Alexia’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, really? Who isn’t interested in me? Me has visto? (Have you seen me?)

You glanced her up and down, feigning disinterest. “Yes, I see you, but there’s not much to see,” you retorted, even though you couldn't deny her stunning looks.

“Por favor, amor, you and I both know you’re lying,” she replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the back-and-forth.

She continued, “You know, last night I had a match.” You merely hummed in response, your disinterest evident as you focused on your work. “Did you watch it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of pride.

You made a face of mild disgust before lying, “No.”

“Qué pena,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.(What a shame)

“We won, and I even scored a goal—just for you,” she added, her tone brimming with confidence and a hint of arrogance.

You can’t help but scoff at her audacity. “Do you use that line on every girl you want in your bed?” you asked, finally looking up from arranging the flowers.

“A few of them,” she replied with a casual shrug, her playful smile still intact.

You tried to brush off the way she was getting under your skin. “So, what do you want? Carmen won’t be here until this afternoon if you’re looking for her.”

Alexia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t come for Carmen. I just wanted to see you. Echaba de menos tu actitud atrevida,” she said, her gaze lingering on you as she bit her lip. (I missed your feisty attitude)

You pointed the flower cutter at her, trying to emphasize your point. “Don’t make me use this on you.”

Alexia’s grin only grew wider. “Dios, you’re so incredibly hot when you’re all aggressive. It just makes me want you more.”

You decided to ignore her comment.

“I want to buy some flowers,” she finally said, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Well, there are plenty of flowers to choose from. Just pick what you want, pay, and then leave,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

“Hey! No need to be rude,” she teased, crossing her arms as she sat on the counter. “Necesito un consejo.” (I need some advice)

You looked at her, signaling for her to continue.

“So, what kind of flowers should I get to say I’m sorry?” she asked, her tone surprisingly earnest.

Recognizing her genuine curiosity, you decided to help out. “You might want to consider blue hyacinths. They symbolize sincerity and heartfelt apologies,” you suggested, motioning for her to follow you as you walked over to the flowers.

“Or red carnations,” you added, pointing to another option. “They also symbolize an apology and love.”

Alexia studied the flowers with a focused intensity that caught your attention, her fingers lightly brushing over the petals as she contemplated her choices.

Standing this close, the faint scent of her perfume enveloped you, making it hard to resist being drawn in.

You realize you’re watching her more than you intended, taking in how her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, glinting in the light.

Her hazel eyes appeared even brighter in the soft glow of the shop, framed by thick lashes that enhanced her striking beauty.

She stood tall, her toned figure moving with an effortless grace that naturally commanded attention.

For a moment, you're caught off guard, realizing just how incredibly gorgeous she really is.

“Ay! I can’t decide. Which one would be more fitting for ‘I’m sorry for kicking you out of my bed, bruising you, and making you leave half-naked because my sister was coming over? But hey, will you come back and have sex with me again?’” she said casually, pulling you out of your daze.

You stared at her in disbelief before finally saying, “The blue hyacinths,” and pushed them toward her chest before walking away.

Alexia headed to the counter, pulling out her wallet. “Gracias. I hope she’ll love them. How much?” she asked, her smirk never fading.

You told her the total, and she handed over the money. But rather than walking away, she moved around the counter with a sly grin.

Before you knew it, she had you cornered, her presence dominating the small space between you and the wall. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer.

“What do you want now? As a customer, you’re not supposed to be on this side of the counter,” you said, meeting her gaze with defiance.

Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “I’ll get you in my bed one day. I saw the way you looked at me. Estás tan cerca de ceder” (You’re so close to giving in)

“The only time I’ll be in your bed is in your dreams,” you whispered back, maintaining your defiant tone.

Alexia’s smile is both wicked and confident. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my bed, even if it’s just in my dreams,” she said before turning to leave.

She paused at the door, glancing back with a sly smile. “I don’t give up easily,” she added before walking out.

You watched her leave, a mix of frustration and unwanted attraction coursing through you.

——

The next morning, you found Alexia back in the shop, but this time, Carmen was there too, much to your relief.

As you stepped out of the back room, you noticed Alexia with a different woman, not Laura, whom you had previously met.

You assumed this was the woman Alexia needed to apologize to.

You arranged the flowers on display, offering Alexia and her companion a brief, polite greeting before moving to the other side of the shop.

While bending over to adjust some flowers, you heard Alexia’s unmistakable voice. “Hmm, me encanta ver a las mujeres inclinarse así. Es mi posición favorita.” (Hmm, I love watching women bend over like that. It’s my favorite position.)

You straightened up immediately and shot her a sharp look.

“I see the flowers worked,” you said, nodding toward the woman Alexia had entered the store with.

“Oh, that’s not her! But yes, they worked” Alexia replied with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I just wanted to thank you. Gracias a ti, tuve una noche increíble,” she said, giving you a playful eyebrow wiggle. (Thanks to you, I had an amazing night.)

You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to ignore her.

Later, as you and Carmen are working at the register, Alexia and her date approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, ¡buena elección! Las rosas rojas siempre son una excelente opción,” Carmen said enthusiastically, and the woman thanked her. (Oh, good choice! Red roses are always a great option.)

Alexia’s arm is draped casually around her current date’s shoulders, a gesture of intimacy that’s impossible to ignore.

As she pulled her wallet from her handbag, she handed Carmen a generous tip along with the payment for the flowers.

“Espera un momento para tu cambio; no hay suficiente en la caja,” Carmen said, her voice trailing off as she headed into the back room.(Hold on for your change; there’s not enough in the register)

With Carmen out of sight, Alexia turned her attention back to her date, a playful smirk curling on her lips.

She slid her hand around the woman’s neck, her touch both firm and tender, tilting her head back. Alexia leaned down slowly, her movements deliberate and sensuous.

She planted a deep, lingering kiss on her date’s lips.

As their lips met, you could see Alexia’s tongue gently sliding into the woman’s mouth, adding a more intimate, passionate touch to the kiss.

Her eyes though remain locked on yours throughout, a challenge in her gaze as if daring you to react.

The kiss seemed to stretch in defiance of time, with Alexia’s lips lingering and her fingers lightly tracing the woman’s neck.

The soft, rhythmic sound of their kissing was the only noise in the room, creating an almost palpable tension that seemed to fill the entire space.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing the provocative display she was creating. As she continued to kiss her date with a slow, deliberate intensity, she stared at you, her gaze both teasing and challenging.

With a playful wink, she seemed to savor the effect her performance was having on you, fully aware of the spectacle she was making.

As Carmen’s footsteps drew nearer, Alexia slowly and reluctantly pulled away, her expression one of satisfaction.

With a smirk, she casually wiped with her thumb the lingering trace of saliva from the woman’s lips, clearly pleased with the effect of their intimate display.

She turned to you, her expression a mix of mischief and confidence.

Her gaze remained steady, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge. You met her stare, striving to maintain your composure despite the palpable tension in the air.

You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the heat of the moment as you struggled to maintain your professional demeanor amidst the charged atmosphere created by Alexia’s bold flirtation.

“Carmen, ¿podrías arreglar que estas flores se entreguen en mi casa mañana por la mañana?” Alexia asked sweetly, her gaze flickering to you with an almost imperceptible, suggestive glint. (Carmen, could you arrange for some flowers to be delivered to my house tomorrow morning?)

“Sí, por supuesto. Y/N, ¿podrías encargarte de la entrega?” Carmen asked you with a gentle smile. (Yes, of course. Y/N, would you be able to handle the delivery?)

You forced a polite smile and nodded. “Of course,” you replied, feeling Alexia’s gaze linger on you. She beamed, giving you a subtle, mischievous wink that made your heart skip a beat.

“¡Genial! Entonces, Carmen, te enviaré un mensaje con los detalles más tarde, ¿está bien?” Alexia said her tone almost triumphant as she looked at Carmen. (Great! Then, Carmen, I’ll send you a message with the details later, okay?)

“¡Claro!” Carmen replied warmly, handing back the flowers and Alexia’s change. (Of course.)

“Nos vemos mañana,” Alexia said with a lingering, teasing smile and blowing you a kiss before turning to leave. (See you tomorrow.)

Her smile promised more than just a casual encounter.

Carmen watched her go and then turned to you with a knowing grin.

“Please, don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away, hearing Carmen’s amused chuckle behind you.

——

“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice piped up during dinner, catching your attention.

“Yes, darling?” You looked up from your meal, focusing on her earnest face.

“One day, can I come to your work with you? I really want to see the pretty flowers,” she asked, her large eyes full of hope and excitement.

“I’ll have to ask Carmen about that first,” you said, and her eyes lit up with a bright smile.

“So that means it’s a yes, right? Because Carmen loves me so much. She always tells me she loves me,” she said, her grin widening as she swung her legs under the table.

“Of course, Carmen adores you. It’s impossible not to with how adorable you are,” you said, reaching over to gently squeeze her cheek.

You planted a series of soft, playful kisses on her cheek, making her giggle uncontrollably.

——

“Alright, it’s here,” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at Alexia’s apartment with her flower delivery.

She had ordered three large bouquets—two of red roses and one of white roses.

You knocked on the door, but there was no response. After waiting several minutes, you tried again, this time rapping more insistently. Still, silence.

Growing increasingly frustrated and determined, you delivered one last, resolute knock.

After a few more minutes, Alexia finally opened the door, looking slightly breathless and dressed only in a sports bra and shorts.

“Hola, guapa. Sorry for the wait, I was… busy. Please, come in,” she said with an inviting smile, opening the door wider as you stepped inside.

“Here. You can put them on the kitchen table,” she gestured to a white table.

“Were you working out?” you asked, noting her sweaty appearance and minimal attire.

She smirked, her confidence barely contained. “You could say that. Just working on my cardio.”

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over her defined abs and the tattooed elegance of her back. She was stunning, a vision of physical perfection.

Your admiration was interrupted by the sound of voices. Turning around, you saw two tall and impossibly beautiful women, one brunette and one blonde emerging from a room. They looked like they could be models.

“Damas,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “tuve una noche y mañana increíble con ambas” as she handed them the red rose bouquets. (Ladies,I had an amazing night and morning with both of you)

The brunette woman leaned in first, her lips brushing against Alexia's in a soft, lingering kiss.

Afterward, the blonde woman approached, her kiss equally tender, adding to the intimate exchange.

You couldn’t help but cringe at the sight, the display of affection feeling overly intimate and uncomfortable.

Alexia escorted them to the door, bidding them farewell with playful pats and a cheeky slap on each of their butts.

You once again cringed at the sight.

Once Alexia closed the door, she turned back to you with a smug, challenging grin.

“Can you please pay so I can get back to work?” you said, trying to keep your tone steady but feeling your frustration simmering.

“Yes, of course,but first I a gift for you” Alexia replied,she walked over to the kitchen table, picked up the bouquet of white roses, and handed them to you with an almost mocking flourish.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a surge of annoyance. “I don’t want it,” you said flatly.

Alexia’s smirk didn’t waver. “Fine. I’ll just give it to the girl I’m seeing tonight.”

“Yeah, do that. Now, please pay,so I can go back to work” you insisted, your patience wearing thin.

“Don’t you want to relax a bit? There’s a couch over there, or maybe something more comfortable—like my bed?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“That’s why you wanted the flowers delivered? To lure me into your bed?” you snapped, your anger boiling over.

“Maybe,” she said, her tone smug and unrepentant, and that was the breaking point.

“So, you had me deliver these flowers, made me wait outside while you were fucking two women, and now you’re trying to bribe me with a bouquet to get me into bed?” you demanded, your voice rising with each word.

“Exactly,” she said, her demeanor unshaken. “I wanted to show you that I can have any women I want. I just had an incredible night with two women. No one can resist me, so why do you?”

You were fuming, your words coming out sharp and hurtful. “"Listen closely, Alexia, because I’m only going to say this once. I would never sleep someone like you. You’re selfish, arrogant, and unbearably overconfident. You think no one can resist you because of your looks or your celebrity status, but that’s a mistake. People are drawn to the idea of being with a celebrity, not to you as a person. They use you just as you use them. You’re nothing more than a lonely woman who sleeps around because you lack meaningful connections. Your allure may attract attention, but it’s clear you have no real relationships. You’re just filling a void, and that’s not something I’d ever want to be a part of. You are pathetic.”

You locked eyes with her, every word stinging. “Stay away from me.”

Alexia’s expression shifted from smug to shocked, her face falling. Her eyes glistened with hurt as she stared at the floor.

“Um…okay… voy a buscar mi billetera. Vuelvo enseguida.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned away quickly. (I’m just going to get my wallet. I’ll be right back)

As you watched Alexia turn away, a pang of regret began to sink in. You realized that your outburst might have been fueled more by your unresolved feelings about your ex than by anything Alexia had done.

The way she carried herself, her bravado, and her seeming lack of genuine connections struck a nerve, bringing your past frustrations to the surface.

You could see how your words might have been more a reflection of your own pain and disillusionment than a fair judgment of her.

Even though some of what you said was truthful, the intensity of your anger revealed how deeply you were affected by your own experiences.

Alexia returned with the payment, handing it to you with a subdued “You can keep the change.” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence replaced by a vulnerable quietness.

You took the money, nodding curtly. Without another word, you turned and left her apartment, heading back to the flower shop with a heavy heart.

——

For three days, Alexia hadn’t shown up to the store, and the gnawing guilt was becoming harder to ignore.

You tried not to dwell on it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. The shop felt quieter without her presence, and the longer the silence stretched, the more you felt the weight of your actions. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—your outburst had driven her away.

Carmen noticed it too. On the third day, as the two of you were arranging flowers for a new display, she finally spoke up.

“Has Alexia said anything to you?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.

You shook your head, not wanting to meet her eyes. “No… Why?”

“It’s just strange, isn’t it? Alexia not coming by for this long, especially when she’s still in Barcelona. It’s… odd,” she said, glancing at you carefully.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Carmen was right—Alexia had been a regular at the shop, her visits frequent and, despite her cocky attitude, somewhat predictable.

You tried to focus on the flowers in your hand, but the words hung heavy on your tongue.

“Did something happen?” Carmen asked softly, her voice more knowing than questioning.

At first, you tried to brush it off. “Nothing happened,” you mumbled, but Carmen raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. You sighed, knowing there was no point in lying.

“Alright… something did happen,” you admitted, setting the flowers down. Carmen leaned in slightly, her attention fully on you.

“She’s been… acting a certain way ever since I met her. You know, making these dirty jokes, flirting nonstop, doing things to get a reaction out of me.” You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her the rest, but Carmen waited patiently.

“She—uh—made out with someone in front of me while staring right at me,” you continued, feeling the irritation rise again as you remembered that morning. “But it wasn’t just that. When I went to her apartment for her flowers delivery, there were these two women at her apartment. She made me wait outside while she was… busy with them. Then she gave me some stupid roses, trying to get me to sleep with her.” The words spilled out faster now. “That’s when I snapped.”

Carmen looked shocked, her brows furrowing in surprise. “And what did you say?”

You hesitated again, but Carmen gave you an encouraging nod, so you told her the whole truth. “I basically told her she was selfish, cocky, and overconfident. That people only used her because she’s a celebrity, and she’s just a lonely woman who sleeps around because she has no real connections.” As the words came out, you cringed, realizing just how harsh they had been.

Carmen stared at you for a moment, processing everything. Then, she let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Wow… that’s… a lot,” she said slowly. “I understand why you blew up, honestly, with how she was acting. Alexia can be… well, a little much. But those words?” Carmen hesitated, glancing at you sympathetically. “I think they might’ve hurt her more than you realize.”

You scoffed lightly, though not out of amusement. “Hurt her? Carmen, she was literally flaunting two women in my face like it was some kind of power move.”

“I know, I know,” Carmen replied gently, “and that’s exactly why I think she was hurt. Look, Alexia may put on this big, confident show, but I’ve known her for a while. Underneath all of that, she’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on.”

You frowned, processing Carmen’s words. “She didn’t seem too sensitive when she was throwing those women in my face.”

“She’s hiding behind it,” Carmen said, shrugging slightly. “People act like that when they’re trying to protect themselves. Not saying it excuses her behavior, but it explains it. She’s not used to people seeing past the surface.”

You slumped against the counter, feeling torn between your anger and guilt. “I don’t know… maybe I took it too far. She just reminded me so much of my ex. It’s like I wasn’t just yelling at her, but at him too.”

Carmen smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, I get it. Sometimes old wounds can make us lash out at the wrong people. Alexia just happened to push the wrong buttons.”

You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “What should I do? I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

Carmen chuckled softly, patting your shoulder. “I’d say maybe you owe her a conversation. But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re both adults, and you’ll figure it out. Trust me, Alexia’s tough, but she’s not as unbreakable as she pretends to be.”

She gave you a playful nudge and added with a smirk, “Besides, you know what they say about love and hate, right? Sometimes they’re closer than you think.”

You rolled your eyes at Carmen’s teasing, but deep down, her words gave you a lot to think about.

——

Two days after your conversation with Carmen, Alexia finally made her reappearance.

You were busy assisting a couple of clients when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her walk into the shop.

She carried a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and for a brief moment, the world outside your conversation with the clients seemed to fade away.

The air felt heavier with her presence, but at the same time, the absence of the usual playful energy she brought with her was unmistakable.

The store had felt quieter without her, and the weight of the silence between you two was something you could no longer ignore.

You had driven her away. That much was clear.

You noticed Alexia standing by the counter, her eyes fixed on you.There was none of her usual cocky confidence.

Her posture was more reserved, even hesitant. When you finished with the clients and they finally left, it was just the two of you in the shop, the tension thick in the air.

She took a step closer, her movements slower than usual. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted softly, her voice noticeably different.

Gone was the teasing arrogance you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was quiet, almost vulnerable.

“Hola,” you replied, matching her tone. You weren’t sure what to expect from her, but this... this wasn’t it.

She handed you the bouquet—blue hyacinths. The flowers of apology. Alexia had remembered.

“These are for you. I... I wanted to apologize for how I acted. What I did was wrong, and I’m really sorry,” she said, holding your gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity.

You took the flowers, their fragrance soft and delicate, but their meaning hit you harder. “Thank you, Alexia. I, um, I need to apologize too. My words that day were... I shouldn’t have said all of that. I was just really angry and—” You began to ramble, but Alexia gently interrupted you.

“No, don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “You had every right to be upset. I made you wait, wasted your time, and I... pushed you too far. I’ve been making things difficult for you since day one. I made you crazy, though not exactly the way I hoped,” she added with a light laugh, trying to keep things casual. But as soon as the words left her lips, she grimaced, regretting the joke.

Before she could apologize for that too, you smiled—a small, genuine smile.

Alexia froze for a second, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you asked, confused by her reaction.

“You smiled,” she repeated softly, her voice a mixture of awe and surprise.

You raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Nunca sonríes. Bueno... no hacia mí, de todos modos. Así que sí, estoy un poco sorprendida en este momento,” she said, as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation she’d ever had. (You never smile. Well... not at me, anyway. So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked right now)

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, Alexia, you’re ridiculous.”

But Alexia’s expression softened even more, her eyes full of warmth as she watched you laugh.

“And now you’re laughing too? Wow, a smile and a laugh in the same conversation? I must be the luckiest person alive,” she said, playfully over-exaggerating her excitement.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said again, though your heart wasn’t in it. Instead, you were secretly touched by her joy over such a small thing.

You brought the bouquet to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance as you studied her face.

Alexia’s gaze softened even further. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that?” she said quietly, the sincerity in her words catching you off guard.

You felt your cheeks warm under her compliment, and you quickly shook your head. “Alright, let’s not push your luck,” you said, still smiling despite yourself.

Alexia’s nervousness seemed to ease at your reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. “So... am I forgiven?”

You pretended to consider it, watching the subtle anxiety creep back into her expression. Finally, you nodded. “You’re forgiven.”

A visible sigh of relief washed over her as she pumped her fist in a small victory. “Yes!” she whispered under her breath, her joy almost contagious.

She then extended her hand to you, a playful glint in her eye. “Dado que estoy perdonada, creo que deberíamos empezar de nuevo. Una pizarra limpia, ¿sí?” (Since I’m forgiven, I think we should start over. Clean slate, si?)

You blinked, surprised at her gesture, but after a brief moment, you took her hand in yours. Her grip was firm but gentle, her skin warm and soft. “Alright,” you agreed, amused by the formality of it all. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Soy Alexia,” she said with a grin, shaking your hand like it was the first time you’d ever met. “Encantada, Y/N.”

The absurdity of the moment made you both smile. It was corny, yes, but endearing in a way you hadn’t expected.

For a brief second, as you shook hands, you found yourself getting lost in her hazel eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

She wasn’t just the flirtatious, cocky woman you had met. She was... more. And for the first time, you found yourself truly seeing her.

Before anything could be said, the sound of Carmen entering the shop snapped you both back to reality.

You quickly let go of Alexia’s hand, almost like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.

“¡Ahh, Alexia! ¡Has vuelto!” Carmen exclaimed, pulling Alexia into a warm hug. (Aahh, Alexia! You’re back!)

Alexia returned the embrace, though she shot you a sheepish smile over Carmen’s shoulder.

When they broke apart, Carmen affectionately pinched Alexia’s cheek before pulling her head down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Era hora, niña. La tienda ha estado demasiado tranquila sin ti provocando problemas.” (It’s about time, niña. The shop’s been too quiet without you stirring up trouble.)

Carmen’s eyes flicked to the flowers in your hand, and she raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Hmm, jacintos azules. Buena elección” she remarked, giving Alexia a playful pat on the back before disappearing into the back room. (Hmm, blue hyacinths. Good choice)

Alexia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.

You smirked at her, your eyebrow raised. “So... did you cheat on us and go to another flower shop to buy these?”

Alexia’s laugh was light as she shook her head. “No way. I bought them here, I swear, you were not here. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater,” she joked, her voice playful yet sincere.

For some reason, you believed her. As flirtatious and free-spirited as she was, Alexia didn’t seem like the type who would betray someone’s trust.

That thought settled something inside you. You found yourself smiling again as you looked at her, the distance between you both feeling much smaller now.

——

From that moment, things between you and Alexia shifted. While her flirting persisted, it became less cocky or overconfident, but still very much her.

But became a little more softer and kinder, making you laugh instead of feeling irritated. Carmen had been right; Alexia could be genuinely sweet when she chose to be.

You never mentioned your daughter to Alexia, thinking it best to keep that part of your life separate.

If your daughter knew you were in contact with her idol daily, she’d beg to come along. Besides, despite Alexia’s more bearable demeanor, you wouldn’t want your daughter around her.

Alexia’s habit of seeing a different girl each day remained unchanged, but each time you saw her with someone new or flirting, a pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach.

One day at the store, it was just you and Alexia. She was recounting her morning training session, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.

At one point, you were telling Alexia a very interesting story. Alexia was hanging on to every word, her focus entirely on you, until the door swung open and a strikingly tall brunette entered the store.

Alexia’s gaze snapped away from you, her head turning to follow the woman’s entrance. She was instantly fixated, her attention now fully captured by the newcomer.

The woman greeted both of you, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Alexia. Seeing that Alexia had completely shifted her attention, you sighed and stopped speaking.

You resumed your task, trimming the thorns off the roses. Meanwhile, Alexia continued to stare at the woman, her eyes practically devouring her.

You walked out from behind the counter to put the roses on display, and only then did Alexia seem to realize you were still there.

“Ay, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please, tell me the end of your story,” she said, following you with an apologetic look.

You sighed, trying to downplay your irritation. The shift in Alexia’s focus from you to the beautiful woman stung more than you expected. “It’s okay. You can go talk to her,” you said, avoiding eye contact.

Alexia hesitated, clearly feeling guilty. “No, really, I want to hear the end of your story,” she insisted, her gaze flickering back to the woman who was still eyeing her.

Were you jealous? Maybe a little but you had been through similar situations before and were determined not to fall into the same trap. Protecting your heart was crucial.

Despite enjoying Alexia’s company lately, you felt it was wiser to keep things minimal and friendly, especially with the feelings you were grappling with.

“No, it’s fine. Go talk to her,” you said, walking away.

Alexia, although still feeling bad, couldn’t resist and moved toward the woman.

From your position at the register, you watched as Alexia approached her with a wide smile.

You saw them chatting, smiling, and occasionally touching each other’s arms. Each gesture twisted your stomach with unease.

Eventually, as you were counting the register’s money, Alexia and the woman came back to you. The woman greeted you again, and you felt Alexia’s eyes on you, but you focused on the woman instead.

“Serán 12 euros, por favor” you told her. Before she could reach for her wallet, Alexia placed her hand over the woman’s, stopping her. (That will be 12 euros, please)

“Está bien, cariño. Yo me encargo” Alexia said, her smile gentle as she handed you the money. The woman thanked Alexia with a kiss on the cheek, making you roll your eyes mentally. (It’s okay, cariño. I’ve got it)

You accepted the money and then gave Alexia her change, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.

The woman thanked you and prepared to leave but then turned back to Alexia. “¿Podrías esperar afuera unos minutos? Ya salgo” she said, smiling. Alexia nodded and watched her leave. (Could you wait outside for a few minutes? I’ll be right out)

Alexia turned back to you, remaining silent. You looked up. “What?” you asked, confused.

“What’s the end of your story?” Alexia asked, clearly eager to know how it concluded.

You sighed. “Alexia, the girl’s waiting for you,” you said, not looking at her.

“But I want to know the end!” she said, almost pleading, her tone earnest and insistent.

“Well, you would have known if you had been listening in the first place,” you replied, your voice carrying a note of frustration.

Alexia fell silent for a moment. “I’m really sorry, I just got… distracted,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the glass door where the woman was waiting.

“Yeah, I know,” you said flatly. Alexia remained silent, and your patience wore thin. “Alexia, can you go now? The girl’s waiting, and I have a lot of work to do,” you said, exasperated.

Alexia bit her lip, looking at you as if you had done something cruel. “Yes, I’ll go. I’m sorry,” she said.

She walked toward the front door, glancing back one last time before leaving.

Once she was gone, you let out a deep breath. Damn it, you were jealous that Alexia was going out with another woman. This couldn’t be happening, you were attracted to her.

——

“Absolutely, Mia can come to the store!” Carmen responded, her voice full of warmth and enthusiasm after you mentioned the possibility of Mia joining you at work.

“Thank you so much, Carmen! She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s been asking me nonstop about it,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

And that was the truth—Mia had been relentless, pestering you every day with the same question. You’d been avoiding giving her a straight answer, constantly making excuses.

Mostly because of Alexia, who also frequented the store daily, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths.

As you and Carmen continued chatting, Alexia walked into the store, just as she always did. She approached Carmen first, who was standing closer, greeting her with a soft “Hola” and two kisses on the cheek, as was her custom.

Then, something unexpected happened. Alexia moved toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for the first time, she greeted you the same way, leaning in to give you two kisses on the cheek.

She had never done this before—usually, it was just a simple “Hola guapa” paired with her usual soft yet cocky smile.

“Hola guapa,” she said, her familiar words bringing a sense of comfort.

“Hola,” you responded, managing a smile, feeling the last remnants of nerves from yesterday dissolve the closer she got.

She was standing so near to you, her height forcing you to slightly tilt your head up to meet her gaze.

“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice holding a gentleness that made your heart skip for a moment.

“I’m good, and you?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You hated to admit it, but having her so close made you feel something—safe, but also a little flustered.

“Bien,” she said, pressing her lips together as an awkward silence started to settle between the two of you. You shifted slightly, unsure of what to say next. (Good)

Finally, you broke the silence. “Did you have fun with that girl last night?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the mood.

Alexia’s smile faltered for a split second, and she hesitated before answering, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Um... no.”

Her answer took you by surprise, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “No?” you repeated, not expecting that.

“No,” she said again, this time more firmly but still quiet. Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure.

“Did you find someone better then?” you joked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, trying to coax her back into her usual lighthearted mood.

But instead of laughing, her expression grew more serious. “No,” she whispered, and this time, her voice carried a weight that made you pause. “En realidad... me sentí muy culpable por lo que pasó ayer” (Actually... I felt really guilty about what happened yesterday)

You blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “Guilty?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you two.

Alexia nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily before she looked back up at you, her eyes soft and sincere.

“About..you know..ignoring you yesterday,” she said gently. “I was out of line. I let myself get carried away,I let my... urges take over,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really sorry. I know it probably hurt you, and that was never my intention.”

You stood there, processing her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t just apologizing; she was genuinely remorseful. You could see it in the way her eyes softened, the way her voice lowered with each sentence.

But despite her heartfelt apology, you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you could just forgive her so easily, not this time. It wasn’t the first time Alexia had done something impulsive, and you didn’t want to keep brushing it off like it was nothing.

“Alexia...” you started, unsure of how to continue. You bit your lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.

She took a small step closer, her expression pleading now. “Please, Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I wasn’t thinking straight. You know me, sometimes I just act without thinking, but I would never want to hurt you.”

You sighed, crossing your arms as you weighed her words. “I get that, Alexia, but this isn’t the first time,” you said, meeting her eyes again. “You can’t keep doing things and expecting me to just... forgive you right away.”

She swallowed, her eyes glistening as if the weight of your words hit her hard. “I know... I know, and I hate that I keep messing things up between us. But please... this time, I mean it. I’ll be better. I promise.”

There was a long pause, both of you standing in the soft light of the store, the usual chatter and bustle around you fading into the background as you considered her words.

Finally, you sighed, shaking your head a little, feeling your resolve begin to waver. “It’s not that easy, Alexia. You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. I need to know you really mean it this time.”

“I do,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you. Just... give me one more chance, please.”

Another long pause. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if she was afraid you might walk away from her for good.

“Fine,” you finally said, though your voice was softer now. “But this is the last time, Alexia. I mean it. If you mess up again, that’s it. I won’t keep forgiving you.”

Alexia’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before you could react, she squealed and wrapped her arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. You let out a small squeal of surprise, not expecting her to hug you so tightly.

“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, setting you back down but not letting go just yet. “I swear, it’ll be the last time I do something stupid. I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to hide it. “The last time, Alexia,” you warned, pointing a finger at her sternly.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, the last time,” she repeated, still grinning. Then she gave you a pleading look.

“Now, will you finally finish the story you were telling me yesterday? I’ve been dying to hear the end.”

Just as you were about to tell her, the door chimed and a few customers entered the store. Carmen shot you a knowing look, subtly signaling for your attention.

“Another time,” you said with a sigh, gently patting Alexia’s cheek before walking away. “Work calls.”

Alexia watched you go, her eyes following your every move, and a huge smile spread across her face.

But as she stood there, a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. Something unfamiliar, something she couldn’t quite place.

She shook her head, brushing off the sensation as nothing more than hunger. With a shrug, she pulled out her burner phone, scrolling through her contacts before texting one of the many girls in her phone, asking if they wanted to come over later.

——

“Are you excited to spend the day with Mommy?” you asked your daughter as you walked to the store one morning.

“Yes!” she cheered, bouncing with excitement.

Some days had passed since Alexia’s latest apology, but things had remained mostly the same.

She continued to visit the store every day, buying flowers for whichever woman she was with at the time.

Her flirtation remained gentle and tender, but something had shifted, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint what.

She frequently complimented your looks, outfits, and hairstyles, which you appreciated, even though it was rare for her to show this side of herself.

Despite this, she still made occasional risqué jokes about her various partners—and even you.

Two days ago, Alexia had been recounting a dinner she went to with friends and handed you her phone to show you pictures of the restaurant and the food. Unfortunately, she opened the “wrong album.”

You were shocked to see numerous pictures of naked women and nearly threw the phone back at her.

Alexia looked puzzled at your reaction but quickly masked it with a smirk as she glanced at her phone.

She began scrolling through the explicit pictures again, her eyes glinting with amusement.

Biting her lip, she seemed to savor the memories associated with each image, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she relived the moments she had captured.

“This is my special album,” she said with a teasing bite of her lip. “When I’m traveling and feeling lonely in a hotel room, it’s nice to have some… interesting pictures to look at.”

You made a face of disgust.

She leaned in, smirking. “Por favor, no me digas que nunca has enviado o recibido fotos como estas.” she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on the counter. (Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never sent or received pictures like these)

“That’s none of your business,” you said, feeling your face flush.

“Oooh, you didn’t deny it, and your face is all red. You’ve definitely sent some,” she said with excitement.

With a cocky grin, she added, “I can’t wait to add yours to this album. It would make it so much more interesting…and beautiful.”

You looked at her in disgust and gently pushed her face away with your hand.

“In your dreams,” you said, smiling despite yourself. Over time, her flirting and joking were becoming less bothersome.

“You know what they say: never give up on your dreams,” Alexia said smugly. “Y me conoces lo suficientemente bien como para saber que nunca lo haría. Si lo hiciera, no sería la mejor futbolista del mundo.” (And you know me well enough to know that I never do. If I did, I wouldn’t be the best woman footballer in the world)

You shook your head, amused.

“I can’t wait to see all the pretty flowers, Mommy!” Mia’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her little feet, her eyes wide with anticipation. You looked down at her, your heart warmed by her enthusiasm.

You had chosen this particular day for Mia to accompany you, carefully planning to avoid a potential encounter with Alexia.

Alexia had informed you the day before that she would be away from the store due to a demanding schedule of training, interviews, and a photoshoot.

You knew that if Mia were to see Alexia, she might freak out since she’s basically her hero.

While Alexia was known to be good with kids—something you’d observed in several videos—her frequent appearances with new partners and her tendency to be very touchy and affectionate in public could have made the situation awkward for Mia.

Your daughter’s inquisitive nature would surely lead to a barrage of questions, which you wanted to avoid.

“This time, I want to pick my flower of the week, Mommy, okay?” Mia asked, stretching her arms up towards you, signaling that she wanted to be picked up.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you responded with a soft smile, bending down to scoop her up. She nestled her head against your shoulder as you lifted her, her small arms wrapping around your neck.

You could feel the warmth of her little body and the soft rustle of her breath against your skin.

Together, you made your way to the store, ready to enjoy a day filled with flowers and moments of bonding, free from the concerns that Alexia might have brought.

——

“Mia, would you like to help me put the flowers in the pot?” Carmen’s voice was warm and inviting.

“Yes!” Mia responded immediately, her excitement evident as she bounded off with Carmen.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm as they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the back of the store.

The morning had been smooth and joyful. Mia had been gleefully exploring the shop, sniffing flowers and marveling at their colors. There had been no tantrums—a welcome relief—and you’d promised her she’ll be back at the store if she continued to behave so well.

As you worked on arranging bouquets for display, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling a new customer.

Looking up, your heart nearly stopped when you saw Alexia walk in. But she wasn’t alone—she had her arm casually draped around another woman, a relaxed smile on her face.

“Hola, guapa,” Alexia greeted you, approaching the counter. She momentarily released the woman to give you a quick kiss on both cheeks before resuming her hold around the woman’s neck.

Panic flared in your chest. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm but failing to mask the urgency. Your eyes darted towards the back of the store, hoping Mia was still preoccupied.

Alexia’s eyebrow arched, catching your unease. “Is that how you greet me now?” she teased with a playful smirk. “Oh, and this is Isabel,” she said, introducing the woman. “Isabel, ella es Y/N.” (Isabel, this is Y/N)

You forced a polite smile at Isabel, offering a quick nod before turning back to Alexia. “You said you wouldn’t be here today. You said you will be busy all day.”

Alexia chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Plans changed. My photoshoot was canceled, so I thought I’d drop by and visit my two favorite flower girls.” She winked at you, trying to keep the gesture hidden from Isabel. “Where’s Carmen?”

Your heart raced. “She’s not here—she’s out on a delivery,” you lied quickly, hoping to get Alexia to leave. You were certain she would linger if she found out Carmen was still around.

Alexia gave you a curious look but shrugged. “Alright then...”

“Right, well, it was nice seeing you, and Isabel, fue un placer conocerte.” you said, trying to wrap things up. “I’m sure you have other plans.” (Isabel, it was lovely meeting you)

Alexia’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “You’re acting strange. Are you trying to kick us out?” she asked with a grin.

“No, no, it’s just... you know, I’m sure you both have things to do,” you replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the back of the store again.

Alexia’s smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, looked down at Isabel.

She gave Isabel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before intertwining their fingers and gently kissing the crown of her head.

A pang of discomfort hit you at the sight, but before you could react further, the sound of Mia’s voice cut through the tension.

“Mommy!”

You closed your eyes briefly, wishing you could rewind, you were so close…

When you opened them, Mia was rushing towards you, her small hands proudly holding a flower.

“Mommy, look! I found my flower of the week” Mia exclaimed, stopping right beside Alexia and Isabel, her face beaming with pride as she showed off her flower.

Everything seemed to slow down as Alexia’s gaze fell upon the tiny figure next to her. Her expression shifted dramatically from casual amusement to shock, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.

It was as if she had been struck by a sudden realization.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “Mommy?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “Tienes una hija?” Her words were tinged with a mix of surprise and confusion, as if the idea of you having a child was completely foreign to her. (You have a daughter?)

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.

Mia, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, suddenly shouted in recognition, “Alexia!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the store as she threw herself at Alexia’s legs, hugging them tightly.

Alexia stood frozen, her shock palpable as she looked down at Mia clinging to her. Her usual composure was replaced by a look of utter bewilderment.

“I love you so much! You’re the best player in the whole world!” Mia declared, her tiny arms wrapped around Alexia’s legs.

Alexia’s expression softened at Mia’s affection. Though still stunned, there was a growing tenderness in her eyes.

Slowly, she reached down, placing her hand gently on the back of Mia’s head and stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, still grappling with the surprise.

You stepped in and carefully pried Mia away from Alexia’s legs, lifting her onto your hip.

Despite Mia’s tight grip, you managed to ease her into your arms, hoping to shield her from the awkwardness of the situation.

“Mommy, look, it’s Alexia! We see her on TV when she plays her games!” Mia said excitedly, pointing at Alexia, who remained visibly shaken.

Alexia’s gaze turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. The realization that you had kept such a significant part of your life from her was evident in the way she stared, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.

“What’s your name, pequeña?” Alexia asked Mia gently, her disbelief still evident.

“Mia!” your daughter responded enthusiastically.

Alexia offered a strained smile. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”

Mia gasped and turned to you with wide eyes. “Mommy, you never told me Alexia was your friend!”

Alexia gave a quiet chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Y tampoco me contó nada sobre ti.” she added in Spanish, hoping that you daughter does not understand, her tone more serious now. The subtle accusation in her words was clear, despite her attempt at a smile. (And she never told me about you either)

Sensing the tension, Mia pointed to the intertwined hands of Alexia and Isabel. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked innocently.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mia...” you began, but Alexia merely laughed, her discomfort evident.

“Mia, it’s not polite to ask those questions,” you said gently but firmly.

“Sorry, Mommy... Sorry, Alexia,” Mia pouted, quickly shifting her focus to something else. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked Alexia with concern.

Alexia looked puzzled. “No, why?”

Mia pointed to her own neck. “You have a bruise here,” she said matter-of-factly.

Your heart sank as you noticed the hickey on Alexia’s neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered it with her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“Oh, that? Yeah, I... got hurt playing,” Alexia mumbled, clearly flustered. Isabel, standing silently beside her, smirked at the scene.

You suspected Isabel might not understand the full conversation but clearly grasped what was happening right in this instance.

Mia nodded solemnly. “You need to be more careful, Alexia. Right, Mommy?”

You couldn’t help but smile at Mia’s concern, which mirrored your own words of caution. “Yes, sweetheart. Alexia needs to be more careful.”

Alexia met your gaze, understanding the underlying message. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the reprimand.

“You’re right, Mia. I’ll be more careful,” Alexia said, her tone softening as she pinched Mia’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from your daughter.

The moment of levity was short-lived as an uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

Mia, in her innocent way, suddenly blurted out, “Mommy says you’re hot!”

Your face flushed with embarrassment at Mia’s remark.

Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, really?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

While watching a game on TV with Mia the other day, you might have commented that Alexia looked "hot" when she appeared on screen, noting her sweaty, glistening skin, messy hair, and visible abs, completely forgetting that Mia was nearby and could hear you.

You felt your face grow even warmer. “Mia, that’s not... what I meant,” you stammered, but Mia continued, oblivious to the embarrassment she was causing.

“You said it when we were watching her game, Mommy. You said, ‘Oh my god, she’s so hot,’” Mia mimicked your tone perfectly, making you wish you could disappear.

Alexia’s smirk grew, clearly relishing the moment. “Well, I guess I should be flattered,” she said playfully, enjoying your discomfort.

“I meant... you were playing really well,” you said, trying to explain, but Alexia wasn’t letting it go easily.

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Alexia’s teasing tone only heightened your embarrassment.

Before you could respond, Mia added, “Mommy, does that mean Alexia needs to take her clothes off since she’s hot?”

You groaned inwardly, your face now burning with mortification. “Mia! No, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, your voice rising as you struggled to regain control.

Alexia tried to stifle her laughter. “It’s okay, Mia. I’m fine just the way I am,” she said, winking at your daughter, which only added to your embarrassment.

Clearing your throat, you tried to redirect the conversation. “Alright, Mia, say goodbye to Alexia. She has things to do, and you need to get back to Carmen.”

Alexia’s brow furrowed. “So Carmen is here? Not on a delivery?” she asked, realizing you had lied.

“Yeah…” you admitted, and Alexia nodded, accepting it.

Mia reached out her arms towards Alexia, who looked at you for permission. You nodded, and Alexia took her in her arms.

Mia gave Alexia a warm farewell hug, her small arms encircling her. “Goodbye, Alexia. And goodbye to Alexia’s girlfriend,” she added, waving at Isabel, who responded with a courteous smile.

You let out a sigh, reflecting on the unintended label Mia had given Isabel.

As Mia turned and ran back towards Carmen, Alexia’s expression shifted from playful to serious.

She turned to you, her eyes lingering with unspoken questions. “We’ll talk tomorrow,please come to my place..you know where it is” she said softly, the weight of her words evident in her tone.

You nodded, feeling the gravity of the conversation that awaited you. There was a lot left unsaid, especially now that Mia’s existence was no longer a secret.

As Alexia and Isabel left the store, you let out a long, weary sigh. You leaned against the counter, feeling emotionally drained from the unexpected turn of events. Tomorrow’s conversation with Alexia loomed large, and you knew it would be a challenging discussion.

And, of course, you’d need to have a talk with Mia about the importance of boundaries—and perhaps a bit about keeping some things to herself as well.

——

The next morning, you headed to Alexia’s apartment with Mia in tow. Since it was a Sunday, María was off, and Carmen was visiting family, you had no option but to bring Mia along.

When you told Mia about the visit, she was ecstatic and insisted on wearing the Alexia jersey you had bought her a few weeks ago. She proudly put it on, her excitement evident.

As you arrived at Alexia’s door, you crouched down to Mia’s level. “Okay, Mia,” you began gently, “let’s remember to behave today, alright?” Mia’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mommy, I’ll behave,” she promised, and you planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

With a mix of nerves and anticipation, you knocked on the door. The last time you were here, Alexia had been with two other women, and the encounter had ended on a sour note. You were hoping this visit would go more smoothly.

Alexia answered the door almost immediately, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted you, her tone soft and inviting.

You returned the greeting with a smile, “Hola, Alexia.” From beside you, Mia’s small voice piped up with an enthusiastic “Hola, Alexia,” and she waved excitedly.

Alexia’s smile widened as she crouched down to Mia’s level. “Hola, nena,” she said affectionately, lifting Mia into her arms.

Mia wrapped her small arms around Alexia’s neck. When they separated, Mia proudly pointed to her shirt and said, “Look, Alexia, I’m wearing your shirt today!”

Alexia’s eyes twinkled with delight as she laughed softly. “Yes! That’s a fantastic choice,” she said, giving Mia a high-five, which Mia eagerly reciprocated.

You couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming interaction between them.

“Come on in,” Alexia invited, opening the door wider and gesturing for you both to enter.

As you stepped inside, a small dog came bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.

“Puppy!” Mia squealed, dropping to her knees as the dog jumped up and began licking her face. Mia’s laughter filled the room, and you found yourself laughing too.

You joined Mia on the floor, gently petting the playful puppy. “This is Nala,” Alexia said, introducing the dog with a smile.

“She’s adorable,” you commented, reaching out to give Nala a gentle scratch behind the ears.

“Sí, igual que su mamá,” Alexia said with a smirk, adding a playful tone in Spanish that made you look up at her and shake your head with a soft smile on your face. (Yeah, just like her mom)

“What that mean?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“It means she’s as adorable as you are,” Alexia explained with a chuckle, ruffling Mia’s hair, which caused Mia to giggle even more.

Afterward, Alexia offered you both drinks, and Mia made her way to the living room, settling in to watch TV while Nala curled up contentedly on her lap.

You and Alexia sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in silence. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation, but Alexia quickly took the initiative.

“So… you have a daughter,” Alexia said, glancing towards Mia.

“Yes,” you replied, nodding.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, confusion and hurt evident in her eyes.

You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. The truth—that you didn’t want Alexia near your daughter due to her reputation—seemed too harsh.

You looked away, avoiding her gaze as you fumbled for a response. Alexia seemed to understand your discomfort.

“You didn’t want me to meet her, did you?” she asked softly.

You didn’t respond, so she continued.

“I told you I wouldn’t be at the store this day, that’s why you brought Mia that exact day, right? Because you didn’t want me to see her?” Her voice held a trace of hurt.

You stared down at your coffee and nodded.

“And that’s also why you were so eager for me to leave? So I wouldn’t have the chance to meet her?” she persisted.

Once again, you didn’t speak, only nodding in confirmation.

“And you even lied about Carmen being on delivery duty to get me out of the store?” she asked.

You nodded again, meeting her gaze and seeing the hurt in her eyes.

“But why? I thought we were friends. I’ve shared so much about my life with you, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Why keep Mia from me?” she asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in her voice.

“I... you know... you have a reputation. I didn’t want my daughter around you,” you admitted, noting the pain and disbelief on her face.

“Especially in the beginning, when we first met. You were insufferable and disrespectful, and I didn’t want my daughter exposed to that,” you continued.

Alexia nodded slowly, though her eyes still reflected hurt.

“I understand you wanted to protect your daughter from me,” she said. “I can be a lot at times.” Her voice carried a sad resignation.

You felt a pang of guilt seeing her so down, especially after witnessing how gentle and affectionate she was with Mia. You realized how wrong you had been.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, feeling deeply remorseful. Alexia reached across the table and took your hand in hers.

“No, don’t be. You’re a mother, and I understand that mothers will do anything to protect their children,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a comforting warmth.

“Yes, and I was wrong. You were nothing but kind and loving towards Mia. As you can see, she absolutely adores you,” you told her with a gentle smile, which Alexia returned.

Her hand remained in yours, her touch warm and reassuring.

“So... what about Mia’s father or another mother?” Alexia asked cautiously, her tone tentative.

“Oh, the father isn’t in the picture anymore. He was terrible to me—cheated on me and left when he found out I was pregnant with Mia,” you confessed, feeling a wave of sadness.

Alexia shook her head in disapproval, her expression one of sympathy.

“That’s also why…” you started but trailed off.

Alexia’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Go on,” she urged gently.

You hesitated, knowing it was time to reveal everything and lay all the cards on the table.

“That’s also why I didn’t want you to know about her or meet her. You reminded me of him,” you began, and Alexia’s face showed clear shock, her eyebrows knitting together.

“He used to flirt with other women, even right in front of me. He was always so cocky and confident, never taking anything seriously,” you continued.

“When I snapped at you the other day, it wasn’t just about you—it was about him too. I used that moment to say everything I wished I’d said to him,” you added, your voice trembling as tears formed in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away, not wanting Mia to see you upset.

Alexia immediately stood up, gently pulling you with her.

“Mia, your mommy and I need to step into the bathroom for a moment. Is it okay if you stay here by yourself for a bit?” she asked Mia softly. Mia, absorbed in the TV, nodded without much interest.

Alexia guided you to her bathroom, closing the door behind you both. She enveloped you in a comforting embrace, your face nestled against her neck while her hands supported you—one at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist.

You let your tears flow freely, a release you hadn’t allowed yourself in a while. It felt cathartic to finally let everything out.

Alexia murmured soothing words into your ear, holding you close as you cried.

As you began to calm down, Alexia spoke softly. “You and Mia deserve so much more than that. I promise you, I’m not like him. I may be confident and a bit cocky, but I will never leave you. As long as you want me in your lives, I’ll be here.”

Her words warmed your heart. You pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered, and Alexia gently rested her forehead against yours, offering a soft smile and cupping your cheeks.

The closeness made your heart race. Being this near to Alexia, after seeing her with other women, was a new and intense experience for you.

The memory of those other women made you pull back quickly, sniffing and smiling softly as you wiped your tears away.

“Thank you again, Alexia,” you said, drying your face.

Alexia smiled gently. “No need to thank me.” She then opened the bathroom door, and together, you both returned to the living room where Mia was waiting.

Alexia had convinced you to stay for lunch, and now the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying bolognese pasta together.

Alexia and Mia were engaged in an animated conversation about football.

“Mommy said that one day, I’m going to be better than you,” Mia announced proudly, pointing her fork at Alexia.

“Did she now? Is that true?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow at Mia before turning her gaze to you with a playful smile.

“Yes, I did. Because it’s true, right, Mia?” you said, gently poking her sides. Mia giggled and looked up at you, her face glowing with joy.

“Yes, Mommy! I’m going to be the best when I grow up!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Mommy!” Mia squealed with laughter, trying to wriggle away as you planted more kisses on her giggling face.

Alexia watched the scene with a soft smile, that familiar warmth spreading through her stomach, the same feeling she’d experienced the last time she’d apologized to you.

After lunch, you and Alexia tackled the dishes together while Mia, worn out from all the excitement, napped peacefully in Alexia’s bedroom.

“You know,” Alexia started, her voice carrying a smug tone as she stood by your side, drying the plates. “Now it all makes sense.”

You glanced at her, confused. “What makes sense?”

Her smirk grew wider, and you could already feel the teasing energy coming. “You always gave me MILF energy,” she said, eyeing you up and down like she was enjoying a private joke.

You felt heat rush to your face, but before you could react, she was already grinning even more, leaning in like she had a secret to share. “Especially when you get all serious and bossy with me. God, I love it when you’re bossy,” she added, lowering her voice. “It’s so hot.”

You didn’t waste a second. You nudged her hard with your hip, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t make me slap you,” you warned her, but she only laughed harder, loving every second of this.

Alexia recovered quickly, her smirk firmly back in place. “And by the way,” she added, wiping a plate with a casual air, “don’t think I forgot about you calling me hot.”

You froze, glancing at her quickly. “I—I did not call you hot,” you said, trying to sound firm, even though you knew you were lying through your teeth.

She chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Oh, really? That’s not what Mia said yesterday. Maybe we should wake her up and ask her again.” She made a move toward the hallway, clearly teasing, and you immediately stepped in, placing your hand over her mouth.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your face burning as she laughed under your palm. You could feel her lips curve into a grin as she brushed your hand off with ease, cockier than ever.

There was a brief moment of silence between you two as you continued with the dishes, but the tension was palpable. Then, out of nowhere, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet.

“You know I’m not giving up, right?” Her tone was playful but serious, the teasing edge never quite leaving.

You turned to face her, already knowing where this was headed. “Still not having sex with you, Alexia,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.

Her eyes darkened with that familiar mischief. She stepped a little closer, the smugness practically oozing from her.

“Come on, you think I’m hot, don’t deny it. Mia even confirmed it. And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at me,” she added, her voice dipping just enough to make you shift where you stood.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, why not just… be hot together?” She shrugged, her expression impossibly smug. “In a bed. Naked.”

Tired of her arrogance, you decided it was time to play her own game.

You sighed dramatically. “Okay,” you said, making it sound like you were giving in.

Alexia’s cocky grin faltered for just a second as her eyes widened, surprised by your sudden agreement.

You stepped closer to her, and for once, she seemed speechless, unsure of what to do with her usual bravado.

As you closed the distance, pressing yourself fully against her, you felt her body stiffen, her breath hitching.

You took her hands, placing them around your waist, dangerously close to your butt. Her eyes searched yours, confused, intrigued, and undoubtedly turned on.

Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in until your lips grazed the shell of her ear. “How about tomorrow night?” you whispered, your voice sultry and slow.

“You can pick me up from work… take me back here… and you can fuck me… all. night. long.” You paused after each word, letting the sexual tension linger between you.

You felt Alexia’s sharp intake of breath, her body instinctively reacting to your closeness.

The faintest moan escaped her lips, her face pressing into the crook of your neck as if she couldn’t control the heat rushing through her.

Her hands moved lower, finally squeezing your butt gently, and you could feel her struggling to maintain her composure.

“And you know what the best part would be?” you whispered, your lips barely brushing her skin, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her neck.

Alexia, still caught up in the moment, could barely manage a hoarse, “What?”

Her hands kept caressing you butt, her body betraying just how much she was enjoying the moment.

You resisted the urge to push her hands away, knowing full well you enjoyed it too. But you had a point to make.

You leaned in even closer, letting her feel your breath against her ear. “The best part is…” you paused, feeling her anticipation grow. “This will all be happening… in your dreams.”

And with that, you pulled away completely, leaving Alexia standing there, utterly stunned, her jaw practically on the floor.

You smirked, enjoying the rare moment where you had the upper hand. “I’m gonna go check on Mia,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just left Alexia breathless and flustered.

Alexia stood there, unable to speak, her mind reeling from what had just happened. She had always been confident, always in control, but you had completely turned the tables on her.

She was used to being the one who teased, the one who left others speechless—but now, you had her feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Wow,” she finally muttered under her breath, her heart still racing. She had been with plenty of women before, but none had made her feel like this—none had gotten under her skin the way you just had.

The way your fingers had trailed down her neck, the soft whisper of your voice in her ear… it had her unraveling in a way she hadn’t expected.

That familiar warm sensation bubbled up in her stomach again, the same one she’d felt earlier at the table.

She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin as she hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down.

But the truth was, she was hot. You’d left her wanting more—and for the first time, Alexia wasn’t quite sure how to regain the upper hand.

——

“Thank you, Alexia,” you said as you got back to your apartment.

After your hot moment in the kitchen, Mia had woken up, and it was time to head home. Alexia insisted on escorting you, so she, Mia, Nala, and you all made the walk to your apartment together.

During the walk, Alexia and Mia chatted animatedly about everything and anything, their laughter and conversation filling the air until you reached your front door.

But Alexia also stayed silent with you.Only talking with Mia.

“Bye-bye, Alexia! I had so much fun with Nala. Can I see her again?” Mia asked, her little arms wrapped around Alexia’s shoulders as they both looked down at Nala.

“Of course, nena. We can definitely arrange another playdate if your mommy agrees,” Alexia said, glancing up at you with a hopeful look. You nodded in agreement.

“Okay, and I want to see you again too. You’re my best friend now!” Mia exclaimed, snuggling her face into Alexia’s neck. Alexia smiled and stood up, with Mia clinging to her like a koala.

“You’re my best friend too, nena” Alexia said softly.

“Mommy is our best friend too! We can’t forget her,” Mia suddenly said, as if realizing she had almost overlooked you. She pulled her face away from Alexia’s neck and stretched out an arm.

“Mommy, come join the hug too!” Mia said with innocent enthusiasm. You smiled warmly as you stepped into the group hug.

As Alexia’s free arm wrapped around your waist, you draped your arm around both of them, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.

Alexia looked down at the two girls in her arms, and a deep sense of contentment washed over her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

The touch of her lips sent a pleasant shiver through you. You looked up at her, smiling gently, and she returned your smile with equal warmth.

As the hug ended, Mia gave Alexia one last kiss on the cheek and a pat on Nala’s head before heading inside.

“Thanks again,” you said with a smile. “You’ve been so quiet with me. Did something happen?”

Alexia rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, you turned me on really badly, and now I have to go home and take care of it myself,” she said, a groan escaping her.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure you could call one of the women in your contact list, and she’d be at your place in ten minutes,” you teased.

“Yes, I could,” Alexia said with a smug grin, “Pero preferiría imaginarte conmigo en lugar de con otra mujer. Podría llamarla por tu nombre por accidente” (but I’d rather imagine you with me than another woman. I might accidentally call her by your name.)

“Okayyyy,” you said, laughing.

“I have a new goal,” Alexia announced suddenly.

“What’s that?” you asked, intrigued.

“My new goal is to take you on a date,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“So it’s not just about getting me into your bed?” you asked, amused.

“Bueno, sí, pero quiero hacer las cosas bien. Mi nuevo objetivo es convencerte de que salgas conmigo.”she clarified. (Well, yes, but I want to do things properly. My new goal is to convince you to go on a date with me)

“I’m curious to see how you plan to achieve that,” you said with a grin.

“I’ll treat you well and completely stop flirting with or looking at other women,” she said confidently.

“You? Stopping from flirting with other women? Alexia Putellas?” you said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Sí, definitivamente puedo hacer eso.”she said, feigning offense. (Yes, I can totally do that)

“Sure…” you said, still unconvinced.

“Alright, let’s make a deal. If I don’t flirt with, sleep with, or even look at another woman for a month, you agree to go on a date with me,” she proposed, determination in her voice.

You considered it for a moment, knowing she might find it challenging. “Okay,” you agreed.

“¿De verdad? ¿No es solo otra broma?”she asked, surprised. (Really? It’s not just another joke?)

“No joke. One month, no women, and I’ll go on that date,” you confirmed, and she cheered.

“Genial! Bueno, ahora necesito ir a cuidar de mí misma, si sabes a qué me refiero.”she said with a suggestive wink and you laughed a little. (Great! Well, now I need to go and take care of myself, if you know what I mean)

“Bye, Alexia,” you said.

“Adios, guapa,” she replied, waving as she walked away.

[eyesxxyou]

Bit weird, but Logan with a pain kink and trying to quit smoking because pretty you asked. You find him smoking one and next thing you know, you're on top of burning hearts into his skin with the cigar.

❝ cigar burns ❞ l. howlett

↳ warning. mentions of oral (m. receiving), smoking, reader puts out cigar on logan, pain kink

You caught Logan smoking after he promised he wouldn't. To be fair, you hadn't had much confidence that he’d actually agree to give up his cigars. You had asked while licking his cock and fondling his balls and in a moment of weakness and, admittedly, horniness, he had agreed.

Logan usually wasn't one to make promises he couldn't keep. He knows himself, maybe more than he’d like, and he knows that he loves smoking his cigars too much to ever give it up by his own free will. He never thought the day would come where he'd set down a cigar for good and never pick it up again.

And then you came along, with your pretty eyes and pouty lips and your severe adversity to smoking. And everyone knew Logan was an absolute sucker for you, would do anything you said like a dutiful dog. So when you asked him to stop smoking all while giving him the best head of his life, what could he do but agree while cumming in your mouth?

Catching him with a cigar between his teeth while he changed out the brakes on your car, you snatched it from his lips before he could even have a moment to react. You weren't angry, not even disappointed. A part of you knew he had been smoking while you weren't around, you could smell it on him when you came home and hugged him. But you chose to be blissfully unaware for the sake of keeping the peace.

“Listen, doll-” He wanted to explain himself but you simply sat in his lap without a word and pressed the lit end of his cigar into his shoulder. “No– you listen to me, Howlett.”

Logan flinched, his brows furrowing, eyes flickering at the stinging pain of his sizzling flesh. “I told you to stop smoking, and you said you would.” You released the cigar from his skin and watched the wound close up right before your eyes. Logan looked at you, eyes glazed over and heavy. He squirmed under you, grunting as you jabbed him with the cigar again, this time on the side of his throat.

He went slack jawed, holding back a groan. You never knew he liked pain so much, the sick bastard. You traced a heart with the end of the cigar into his flesh and watched it heal slowly.

“I catch you smoking again, I’m putting this out on your dick.” You gave it a good twist into his shoulder to make sure it was out before flicking it to the side and placing a gentle kiss to Logan’s lips, wet and tender.

You left Logan there, with a cock so hard he thought he might go unconscious with all the blood rushing to it.

Maybe he'd have to get caught smoking some more.

[jjunieworld]

THE SALT UNDER THE SEA ˒˒ 심재윤͏ ⨾ 박종성 ▸  part two of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag

the death of your grandma has you returning back to your mother’s seaside hometown—the same town you left jake in a year ago—for good. now that you’re back, so are the feelings you really desperately wished to leave behind. it doesn’t help that now you’re caught in the crossfire of two guys with a rough past who want to be with you.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x reader, park jongseong x reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 cousin jungwon, bestfriend!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ exes to lovers, bestfriends to ???, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jake, ex player!jake, bestfriend!jay, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding inaccuracies, love triangle, slice of life, some h2o references, beach au, summer romance

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ if you didn’t like reader in the first part then you won’t like her in this one, reader’s grandma passing, alcohol, multiple unprotected sex scenes, soft dom!jake, mean dom!jay, toxicity, jayke constantly one-uping each other, jealousy and possessiveness, arguing, size training, marking, inexperienced!reader, blowjob/handjob, riding, corruption kink, jake is a munch, pussy eating, oral fixation?, cum swallowing, slight fingering, petnames (baby, pretty, good girl), name calling (slut, whore), praise, reader gets talked through it, creampies, degradation, hair pulling (both m. & f. rec), dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, slight manhandling, body worship, dumbification?, cockwarming, service top!jake, pussy drunk!jayke, pictures & videos taken during sex, cumshots/facials

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ literally went through hell trying to get this part two out but here we are!!! once again, this is for the lovely @jjunberry ♡ literally this wouldn’t even be here without you so i hope you like it!! (⁎˃ᆺ˂) thank you to all of you for being on this (very long) journey with me! hehe ^^ i hope you all enjoy this!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

∿ [ 27.5k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

[ BEFORE — ONE MONTH SINCE LAST SUMMER ] 𓇼 the salt in your wounds still lingers.

just when you thought your life was finally getting better, finally getting back on track after the summer you’ve had, everything comes crashing down with just one phone call.

it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, your mother’s face. you knew from the start that your grandma wasn’t going to make it, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. a mere month since you left… would things be different if you and your mom stayed in her seaside hometown like originally planned? deep down, it felt like it was all your fault.

two more months passed before your grandma passed on. “from the sea i came and to the sea i shall return,” she always told you. “don’t be sad when i go, when you see the ocean waves that will be me saying hello.” the day it happened your mom had already booked the next flight out for her funeral.

going through your belongings as you pack your bags makes your guilt run deeper and all it does is make your mind flash back to just three months ago when you were by the sea and everything felt too much. your eyes travel to your dresser—jake’s note and all the developed pictures sat safely in an old jewelry box that you haven’t touched since putting the items in there. you didn’t even look at the pictures after you had gotten them developed, it just hurt too much.

still, your mind was muddled and as you finished packing your suitcase to the brim nothing became clearer. these three months gave you plenty of time to think over the entirety of last summer with detached emotions—a new perspective.

do you still love jake? of course you did, it’s most likely that you always will. how could you not? he was your first love. do you forgive him for everything that he put you through last summer? you still weren’t sure.

but damn if you didn’t miss him.

for the first time you felt the urge to look at the pictures you and him took—fingers twitched towards the jewelry box. with a sigh, you stood from your bed and grabbed it, the soft music playing as you opened the lid. carefully, you grabbed the pictures and made your way back to your bed.

as you flipped through all of them, a memory came to the forefront of your mind with each photo.

a smile pulled at your lips at the photo, it was of you with a shocked smile next to a brightly smiling jake. his arm was around your waist and the two of you were almost chest to chest. “i want my first memory to be of you.”

another of the two of you, a wall of graffiti behind you—right after your first kiss. jake was pressing a kiss to your cheek and you looked flustered. “you said you wanted physical memories, right? say cheese!”

the last one you looked at was of you, jake, and sunghoon before you noticed the tears blurring your vision. the three of you smiling as jake pulled you all close together for the camera. “group picture!”

you glanced over to your phone on your bed. even now, jake still contacts you everyday—even if you don’t answer him. mainly it’s been him checking up on you and making sure that you’re okay, asking how your day was. you haven’t answered a single one of them, yet he hasn’t stopped. against your better judgement, you read every message that came in—the most recent being his condolences.

you don’t know what to say to him. so many things have been left unsaid that every time you go to type a message your fingers freeze and your mind runs with everything you want to tell him. then you decide to just not say anything at all. besides, you didn’t think you'd ever see him again, so what’s the point?

if you were being honest, a part of you is still closed off, untrusting of him. you didn’t want to give your heart to him in fear he might break it again. you refused to feel like that again.

with a heavy and shaky sigh you put the pictures back where they belonged and made your way downstairs with your suitcase.

the next day you were on a flight to your mother’s seaside hometown, just like you were three months ago. jake’s letter filled your mind and your dreams surrounded him.

“i love you. i love you. i love—”

your mom nudged you awake just as the plane was beginning to land. you rubbed your bleary eyes and blinked rapidly to try and get your eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. nudging you again, your mom said, “wake up, we’re about to land.”

deja vu hit you and hit you hard. rolling out your sore neck, you prepared yourself for the landing. you still hated planes.

the drive to your aunt’s house was silent, as you got settled in and prepared for the funeral it was even quieter. your ears practically rang with the sound of silence and your body felt like it weighed a ton with the heaviness lingering in the air.

you all were dressed in black in the living room. your aunt was desperately trying to lighten the mood, and it was only half working. “come on everyone, you know she’d come back from the grave and kill us if she saw our faces right now! she wouldn’t want us to be sad.”

your mom nodded sadly, reciting your grandma’s words. “don’t be sad when i go, when you see the ocean waves that will be me saying hello.”

“exactly! now let’s go and celebrate the life she lived instead of being sad it came to an end!” your aunt smiled softly.

it was a lovely service, your grandma’s funeral. you think that she would be happy with it.

you and jungwon decided to walk back home after the funeral. honestly, you both didn’t think you could be in a car with the dark cloud surrounding you all, it felt too claustrophobic.

on the way home you both stopped at a food place since you were still hungry. the two of you ate silently before jungwon looked behind you and suddenly stood to his feet, murmuring a quick “i’ll be right back.”

you looked behind you at his retreating figure, confused. just as you were turning back to your food you saw it out of the corner of your eye. your heart stopped. you could barely see with jungwon blocking the way but you could spot him anywhere.

it was jake.

you continued eating. you weren’t ready to face him, especially not right now. you don’t think you could even look at him right now. instead, you opted to watch the scene from the corner of your eye.

you could barely hear jungwon and jake’s conversation, only managing to hear jungwon say, “she really doesn’t need any drama right now, man…” jake backed off, but not before you turned and the two of you made the briefest of eye contact before you quickly looked away, taking another bite out of your sandwich.

all you managed to catch was the blonde of his hair that he pushed off his forehead as he turned.

now you wished you took the chance to get a good look at him. it’s only been three months since you last saw him, but already you were forgetting the exact color of his eyes and the way his voice sounded. were they more of a honey brown or a mahogany? you didn’t remember.

it was eating away at you how much you already forgot.

you and jungwon finished your food in silence. before the two of you walked back home, he asked if you wanted to swim before you left. you shook your head as you stared out to the sea. it was a sunny day, but you just couldn’t bear to step off the boardwalk. “maybe next time i visit,” you said, though you didn’t know if there would be a next time.

[ RETURN — A YEAR SINCE YOU’VE TOUCHED SAND ] 𓇼 two hundred seventy-four days since you’ve last seen him.

your heart beat fast as you looked out the plane window to your mother’s seaside hometown—your new home. there was no need for your mom to nudge you awake since you weren’t able to sleep for the entirety you were on the plane, the nerves were eating at you.

you never thought you’d be back here, never thought that you’d ever say goodbye to your own hometown—which was also your late father’s—but here you were.

when your mom told you that you’d be moving here permanently you didn’t know how to feel. on one hand, you understood your mom’s decision. it was just you and her out there miles away from your family and everything must’ve reminded her of your father. it reminded you of him too. on the other hand, you desperately wished she would change her mind.

it was enough seeing that one glimpse of jake nine months ago, but to see him over and over and over again? you didn’t think you could take it. he still texted you, even more now since, and you still haven’t answered. things between the two of you still remain unsaid.

but you also couldn’t help but count down the seconds until you laid your eyes on him again. it set your skin alight and you couldn’t help the small smile on your face and the giddiness you felt. was it selfish, yes, but after everything you think you’re finally ready to face him again.

to give your relationship another chance. to give him your heart again and not be fearful that he would break it, that he’d keep it guarded and safe. after all, he said he would wait for you.

and if he didn’t protect your heart, you’d pull back and it would be as if you never had anything to do with him again.

“y/n? are you listening?” you heard your mother’s voice call out. you snapped back to reality, blinking a couple of times to get your wits.

you were no longer on the plane. now you were lugging suitcases into your aunt’s house. your aunt was delighted to hear that you and your mom would be moving here. there was plenty of room in the house until the two of you got your own place.

“mhm,” you mumbled, though you definitely weren’t listening.

your mom sat the suitcase she was carrying in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. “is it that boy from last summer? what was his name? jacob?”

“jake,” jungwon answered for you as he walked out the front door to grab more boxes.

your mom snapped her fingers. “jake! that’s it. listen, i know you had some problems moving here because of him, but use this as a way to put yourself out there more than last summer! there’s more wonderful people here than just jake.” she gave you a sympathetic smile and continued carrying stuff inside while you remained planted to the same spot in the driveway.

it wasn’t “just jake” that worried you. it was all of his friends and hana. you didn’t want another summer full of drama, especially if you and jake did start dating again.

getting all your boxes and suitcases into the house went quick and relatively easy. you decided on unpacking all of your things later, right now your mind was too clouded.

jake’s letter sat carefully in your anxious hands. you must’ve read it a million times over now and you could barely wrap your head around it still.

“two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be. no matter how long it takes, i’ll wait for you.”

it was now or never. you grabbed your phone and opened your messages up to your conversation with jake. his last message was from this morning, hoping that you had a good day today. he must not know that you’re back and for good. with a shaky sigh, you let your fingers move across the keyboard.

you: meet me at our spot.

your hands shook as you quickly made your way downstairs and out the front door. your heart raced and your breathing was labored as you let your feet guide you. the more you thought about jake the faster your feet carried you towards him.

you felt the smile grow on your face as you caught a glimpse of the sea and the sand, the grittiness already finding its way into your sandals. you were moving so fast that you didn’t notice the person in front of you until you smacked directly into their chest.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you came to a sudden halt, eyes wide, “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t paying attention to where i was going!”

“we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” a familiar voice joked. you looked up, the smile on your face widening more as you stood face to face with jay again. his smile matched yours and you laughed out of disbelief.

“jay!” you laughed, “it’s been a while, how have you been?”

jay ran a hand through his damp hair. “same old, same old. how have you been? i heard you left this place for dead! never thought i’d see you back here again.” the teasing in his voice was obvious but you could see the concern in his eyes. flashes of the last time you saw him ran through your mind. funnily enough, you ran straight into him just a year ago while running from jake.

your smile faltered slightly but you tried your hardest to not think about last year. “well, let me be the first to tell you that i’m back for good!” jay’s eyebrows raised in shock and you nodded. “just moved back with my mom! you’ll be seeing me around a lot more now,” you continued playfully.

“i’m sorry about your loss, by the way,” jay said, expression suddenly serious. you waved a hand in the air, letting him know that it was okay. time and place. “well, i’m glad you’re back! this place really sucks without someone like you around,” jay added.

laughing you shook your head slightly, “then we should hang out sometime!”

“text me the plans and i’m there!” jay replied and pulled out his phone. he passed it to you with a “new contact” screen opened and you quickly filled out your information.

“i gotta go, but we will be hanging out sometime this week!” you waved as you began to step away. jay nodded with a smile. “clear your schedule!” you tossed over your shoulder as you walked away. behind you, you heard jay’s laugh.

“wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

you shook your head, continuing on your path to you and jake’s “spot.” this time you took your walk slow so you wouldn’t run headfirst into anybody else.

jake nodded along absentmindedly to whatever sunghoon was saying to him, not listening at all as he stared out at the people swimming in the ocean and the calm ocean waves.

he was bored out of his mind.

suddenly his phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. jake blinked a couple times to make sure what he was seeing was real. once he saw that it was you who was undoubtedly texting him, he jumped to his feet.

you: meet me at our spot.

“—and then i told her that i already warned her. this is the relationship that she—hey! what the fuck, jake?” sunghoon called behind him as jake suddenly took off.

jake could care less about sunghoon right now when you were here. you’re finally back, and not only that—you’re asking to see him. jake feels like his heart might explode. nine months since he’s last gotten the tiniest glimpse of you. nine months since he last had his breath taken away. a whole year since you’ve slipped through his fingers.

he wasn’t letting you go this time.

“where are you going?” sunghoon yelled, yet jake made no efforts to stop or even slow down. distantly, he could hear sunghoon shout, “asshole!”

like always, jake made it to your spot before you did. it’s only mere seconds until you’re arriving after him, taking his breath away once again as he goes to turn and sees you standing there.

you look so different, yet the exact same as when he last saw you. all jake can do is stare at you wide-eyed, mouth agape as his head completely empties.

“y/n,” jake finally breathes.

in response, you inhale sharply. “jake…” you notice that his hair is it’s natural color—a dark brown. the blonde hair he had last year is nowhere to be seen whatsoever and his hair is even longer than it was, half of it disheveled and touching the top of his lips and the other half tucked semi-neatly behind his ear. and his eyes… how could you ever forget?

brown moonstone. they look just as they did when the two of you laid under the stars together.

without thinking the two of you rush towards each other before abruptly stopping just inches away. hesitantly, jake closes the gap as he reaches towards you and gently places his hand on your cheek. you can feel the way it tremors—as if his hand might go through you. he takes a small step towards you until you can almost feel his breath fan across your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments.

as they open you look up at him, at the eyes that put you through so much. you pressed your lips to his softly.

instantly, jake is kissing you back. in it, you can feel everything that he’s been wanting to say to you for the past year. the kiss is desperate, searing, and passionate. it rips the oxygen right from your lungs and still you wrap your arms around jake’s neck to pull him closer. like if you stopped kissing him the world would crumble beneath the two of you.

only when you both can’t stand the suffocation anymore do you pull away—just barely. your heavy breathing mixes and your eyes are still closed. your grip on the back of his shirt tightens and jake leans his forehead against yours heavily.

“i missed you,” he says, just above a whisper. “i missed you so fucking much, you don’t understand. i’m so sorry.”

you kiss him again because it’s the only way you can show him how much you missed him too. jake’s hands move to your waist and pulls you closer so you’re completely pressed up against him.

memories of last summer force it’s way through your clouded mind. the two of you standing in this exact spot as he begged you not to leave.

abruptly, you broke away from him, hands pushing against his chest as you took several steps back. you turned your back to him as you tried to catch your breath, running your hands down your face. inhaling sharply, tears sprang to your eyes at all of the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. exhaling, you tried to steady your heartbeat that filled your ears.

being in this place wasn’t helping. as you looked around the rocky walls, more and more memories flowed through your mind. “i hate you,” you spoke, turning completely to face jake. your voice lacked the punch the phrase needed. instead, it sounded almost… defeated. a tear slid down your cheek.

“i know,” jake replied. he knew what you were really saying, could feel it in the same desperate way you kissed him back.

“and i hate you for what you’ve done to me,” you added while drawing closer to him.

“i know.”

you drew closer until your tight fists we’re resting against his chest. you avoided his eyes as more tears fell. “and i hate that i spent the entire year we were apart only thinking about you—i hate you.”

jake could feel the way your body shook against him. he took your closed fists into his hands. “i know, baby, i know.”

and he did. he knew that “i hate you” really meant “i love you.” and you did. you really did love him.

jake moved your hands back to your sides, letting them go but having his hands still hovering near them. “walk with me?” he asked, moving to wipe your tears away with the pads of his thumbs gently. you nodded in response as you stared at him finally. jake dipped his head down towards you and softly pressed a kiss against your lips before guiding you out of the cave-like opening.

silently, the two of you walked side-by-side in the sand through less populated paths. you both didn’t speak, and it was probably for the best as you both processed everything between the two of you.

you were walking along an empty part of the beach, the sun just beginning to set, when you decided to break the silence. “i missed you too,” you spoke, your eyes following the way your feet left footprints in the sand.

you looked to your side at jake, “i really missed you.”

the two of you came to a stop. jake looked at you with furrowed brows, like he still couldn’t believe if what he was experiencing right now was true or not. he kissed you.

if even possible, this kiss was more passionate and desperate than the last. your already swollen lips were hot to the touch and no matter how much the two of you pulled each other closer, it wasn’t close enough. the kiss then turned feverish and you both pulled away to breathe. a silent question hung in the air and you nodded ever so slightly.

jake then intertwined your hands, pulling you off into some direction you weren’t familiar with until he was pulling you into a house that you could only assume was his. you barely even wrapped your head around the fact that you were actually in his house for the first time before he was pulling you up the stairs and into his room.

his lips met yours again and finally all the unsaid things spilled out from between the two of you as you pulled each other’s clothes off. jake laid you on the bed, fingers just barely gripping the waistband of your shorts and underwear. you were under him in just that and your bra.

“yes or no?” he asked you breathlessly, voice low.

“yes,” you responded. just as fast as you did, you were half naked underneath him. jake didn’t wait as he unclasped your bra with one hand and tossed it somewhere out of sight as his lips smashed against yours. he pulled away and you barely got to blink before the both of you were completely naked.

you watched as jake reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the ponytail off of it. he messily tied back his hair before placing hot kisses down your stomach. you fought the urge not to moan. he continued slowly down your stomach and just when he reached right above where you needed him the most, he looked up at you with his signature smirk.

you inhaled and his lips attached to your core, causing you to gasp loudly. his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs to keep them apart as his tongue pulled you closer and closer over the edge. you almost broke completely when he pushed his fingers inside you, curling them at just the right angle that made you see stars.

your hands were in his hair—messing up his already messy ponytail—and your moans filled his bedroom, not even worried that someone else could be in the house. all you cared about was how good he was making you feel and how much you missed his body on yours.

it didn’t take long until the rope was snapping and you shakily told him that you were about to cum. moments later jake’s fingers and mouth was dripping and he was licking them clean while you hazily stared at him, mind too foggy until his lips were suddenly on yours again and his hands were trailing up your sides.

“i need you,” you whined softly as you stared into jake’s eyes, “please.” you clawed at his back in attempt to bring him closer, your body on fire and he was the only way to bring down the heat.

jake pressed a soft kiss to your lips and looked down between your bodies as he lined his hard and dripping cock up with your entrance. he looked up, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you nodded in return, bucking your hips up slightly and gasping when the tip of his cock grazed your sensitive clit.

slowly, jake pushed into you and it was much less uncomfortable than it was the first time. he waited a moment, eyeing the way your body reacted before looking at you in a silent question. you nodded and slowly he began to move.

high-pitched moans and whimpers left your mouth the more and more your body adjusted to him, and the more and more euphoric you felt. you and jake left love bites all over each other’s bodies without a care of the fact that it was in places people could definitely see, you were too caught up in the feeling of him surrounding you and jake was too caught up in the fact that you were finally in his arms again.

he barely let you out of his grasp, body firmly pushed against yours, as he moved in and out of you at a steady pace. his head was cloudy with your pretty sounds and his lips nipped at any skin he could. jake wished the both of you could stay like this forever, just the two of you together. he was scared of what would happen when he pulled out of you and it all ended.

would you regret it? say it was a mistake and that he should pretend like it never happened? or would this push the two of you back together again like he hoped? after all, you were the only one for him.

you inhaled sharply, brows drawn together and back arching off the soft blankets, and jake knew your body well enough before you started to clench down on him that you were about to come undone on him again. “j-jake…” you whimpered as your eyes squeezed shut.

“shh, baby, i know.” he moved so his thumb was now rubbing circles into your clit and watched the way you tried to shut your legs with a soft chuckle. he held them apart with his free hand. “let go for me,” he murmured, continuing his pace.

jake moaned and bit down hard on his bottom lip the more you clenched down on his poor cock. he felt like he was going to lose it at any moment as he tried to bring you closer and closer to the edge. “that feels good, yeah?” he asked you, accent thick and low. that sent you right over the edge, incoherent words falling from your lips, and you made a complete mess on his cock.

“shit,” jake said sharply before a moan escaped him. the sight went straight to his dick and it was almost instant with the way it twitched and he was cumming inside you, filling you up even more. his hips moved lazily, watching the way the cum spilled out of you and around him, painting his cock a pretty white.

slowly he pulled out of you and you whined at the loss of him, fingernails digging into his shoulders. more creamy white spilled out of you in a thick load and jake fought the urge to not push himself back into you and fuck you again.

he kissed your inner thighs and slowly made his way up your stomach and until he reached your lips in a heated kiss. your fingers raked through his hair, causing it to fall from the ponytail and spill out around both of your faces. once the both of you pulled away for air, you couldn’t help but giggle.

“what?” jake said, looking down at you with a bright smile. you shook your head. you were honestly just glad to be with him. you leaned up to catch his lips in another kiss. it felt like you were addicted to his lips and you cursed yourself in your head for ever putting you in the situation where you might’ve never been able to kiss them again.

jake looked at you fondly. “stay here, i’ll get something to clean you up.”

after a brief moment he came back with a damp cloth and a towel and gently wiped you down, making sure not to press too hard since you were still sensitive. once he was satisfied he laid down next to you and pulled you to his chest. “you did so good for me, pretty.”

your heart swirled at the familiar petname.

you weren’t sure when the two of you fell asleep or for how long, the sun’s golden rays just peaking above the horizon and starting a beautiful sunset, before you woke up. jake was still sound asleep next to you, the two of you still naked, and you slowly and quietly got up from the bed. you decided to take a look around his room since you’ve never been in it before.

he had old trophies and medals for various things, one of them being swimming, along with pictures of what you assumed to be an old swim team. there was pictures of his family and friends around that brought a smile to your face the more you looked at them. one in particular caught your eye. it was a polaroid of jake, jay, and jake’s bestfriend sunghoon.

you eyes widened. you thought jake and jay hated each other—if last summer was anything to show. why did they have a picture together? under it you saw that somebody wrote “swimming buds for life!” you checked the other pictures he had around again but this was the only photo that included jay. it made your head spin.

a familiar picture on his desk caught your eyes and you moved towards that instead. jake had gotten the pictures you took last summer developed too and had even dated them on the back. gently, you took the stack into your hands and looked at the picture on top.

it was the two of you at the abandoned skate park where you had your first kiss together. your head was tilted against his as you both smiled for the camera. a smile made its way onto your face and continued to grow as you continued flipping through the pictures, making your way to sit on the edge of jake’s bed.

you felt movement behind you and suddenly arms were wrapped around you as jake leaned up behind you to look over your shoulder. you gasped lightly when his hands rested at the lowest part of your hips and he placed feather-light kisses along your neck. “your awake,” you smiled as a chill ran down you, causing jake to chuckle lowly, sleep still at the edges of his voice. “i am.”

suddenly you were reminded at the fact that you both were still naked and the way your pussy now throbbed at his sleepy voice. you swallowed thickly and turned your attention back to the pictures in your hands. flipping the picture on the top to the back, you gasped and turned to jake in slight shock.

in your hands laid multiple pictures of you completely fucked out and dripping cum on a picnic blanket, illuminated by the moonlight and the flash of the camera. “asshole!” you nudged jake with a shocked smile and pulling a laugh from him. “i can't believe you took pictures of this!”

you looked back to the pictures with wide eyes as jake laughed more. “not funny…” you mumbled with a pout. you held one up where you were in full view of the camera along with jake’s cum covered cock hovering above you, “i look so out of it.”

jake took the photo from you and inspected it with a grin. “you were.”

you nudged him again, hard. jake laughed and wrapped his arms around you to pull you into him, placing kisses along your jaw. “it doesn’t matter,” he started, leaning his head against yours so his lips were near your ear, “these ones are for my eyes only.”

you giggled sheepishly, pushing him away from you as you tried to not let a wet patch form beneath you. you looked towards the window through the barely opened blinds. the sun was just about to set and you knew your mom was most likely wondering where you’ve been all day. jake followed your stare and you heard him sigh softly. “i should probably head home,” you stated quietly.

you turned to look at him, seriousness suddenly seeping into your features. “we’re gonna have to talk about this… about what this all means…”

“we can go slow,” jake said, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. “it’ll mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“bit too late to go slow,” you chuckled and he followed. you looked down to your lap, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the towel next to you. “i really don’t want drama this summer, jake.”

you glanced up to look him in the eyes, those pretty brown eyes of his. “i don’t think i can take another summer full of it,” you continued. jake nodded in agreement.

“this summer is just for the two of us. i promise.”

you let his words sink in before leaning up to place your lips against his in a soft and slow kiss. “now…” jake said as he pulled away, “are we just gonna stay naked, or what? because i’m really starting to lose my mind over here.”

heat crept across your face, especially as his eyes dropped to your nakedness. you covered your face with your hands as you turned away, jake’s laughter behind you, and moved to where he threw your articles of clothing. “timeout!” you muttered, as you pulled your panties on.

jake laughed more, “again?! hm, we’ll see…” he got up to get clothed as well. “let me walk you home.”

[ SUMMER — THE TIDES ARE PULLED BY THE MOON ] 𓇼 and you are pulled by him.

you almost jumped out of you skin, fingers grabbing at your pajamas, as you opened the bathroom door and were immediately face to face with your cousin jungwon. “jesus!” you nearly screeched as you held onto the door.

“so… jake walking you home, huh? what’s that all about?” jungwon asked. he took a few steps back to let you leave the doorway of the bathroom and you leaned against the wall nearest to it.

it was dark outside now and your face heated at the mention of jake. fumbling over your words slightly, you replied, “we were just… talking things from last summer over. he wanted to apologize in person.”

more heat spread across your face. it was surely one way to apologize…

in order for jungwon to not see your flustered face, you turned and made your way to your room, jungwon following in tow. you opened your door and walked around the room as you got ready for bed. discreetly, you tried to hide all of the love bites on you, suddenly regretting being so careless about where jake marked you.

“hm,” jungwon hummed, “are you planning on getting back together with him?” he sat at the edge of your bed, eyes trailing your movements. you saw the way his eyes stared too hard at a spot on your neck with a raised eyebrow.

you sighed softly. truly, you weren’t sure quite yet. you had just arrived and it was too early to tell how this summer was going to fair. and you really didn’t want this summer to be a repeat of the last one. you wanted to get more settled in before you decided to make any rash decisions—even though you and jake had already slept together just mere hours after you arrived.

you sighed to yourself again. maybe that wasn’t the best of ideas.

“i don’t know,” you replied, plopping down onto your bed next to him. “after everything… i-i just don’t want to be caught in another web. i can’t go through that again.”

jungwon nodded solemnly and rested a comforting hand on your back. “whatever you choose—be careful, y/n.”

this time you felt the gravity of his words—the same words he told you last summer when he tried to warn you in meddling in things you were unfamiliar with. in getting involved with jake and his and his friends’ game. when everyone tried to warn you.

even if jake claims that he’s changed, you needed to see it for yourself. not just through words, but through actions. and then, and only then, would you consider giving your whole relationship another chance.

“whatever happens, i’m here for you,” jungwon continued. you gave him a warm smile. “i will. and thank you,” you replied.

after talking to jungwon you decided to text jake with your requirements. your thumbs fiddled with each other and your heart raced as you waited for the three little dots that indicated he was replying to show up.

jake: i promise you i’ll do anything it takes to earn your trust back. anything. i’ll show you that giving us another chance will be worth it, that giving me another chance is worth it.

“everything is exactly the same as before, so there shouldn’t be any trouble,” mrs. song said as she led you back towards the front of the juice bar. you nodded in response as you followed her. “can you start later this week? say… wednesday?” she added in question.

“yes!” you nodded again politely. “wednesday is good! oh—can i ask you a quick question?”

“shoot,” mrs. song replied while waving off some kid trying to climb over the counter for more of the candy that sat in a bowl.

“last summer, a girl named hana worked here with me… does she still work here?” you asked as you looked to the floor with furrowed brows. pain stabbed through your heart and your mouth felt like it was full of sand just from saying her name. you hated the feelings her name evoked in you.

to think that you had an actual friend here in her… when all she wanted was to use you for her own gain. you knew it would be a ridiculous hope with how small the town was, but you still hoped you never saw her face again. never heard her name again. never felt these feelings that she caused. if you ever saw her again it would be too soon.

“oh, hana?” mrs. song questioned while focusing her attention back on you. “fired her not long after you left. horrible employee—i don’t know why i didn’t fire her sooner. or hired her in the first place.”

you let out a small sigh of relief that mrs. song seemed to pick up on. there was no way you could spend another summer sharing the same space as hana. it was impossible.

“you had problems with her too, yeah? hm,” mrs. song snorted.

after a bit more chatting and going over your future schedule you began to head out, trailing slowly along the shore. water lapped at your feet and your sandals swung limply from your fingers as you stared out at the calm waves. you think you could like it here after all.

“y/n!” you heard your voice being called.

breaking your attention from the sea, you turned in the direction of the voice. a smile grew onto your face. “jay!” you called back as he jogged up to you. “nice seeing you again!”

jay stood in front of you, holding a hand up to block the sun from getting in his eyes while he used his other hand to push his hair off of his forehead. you guided him away from the shore and towards one of the empty tables on the boardwalk. “was just getting ready to start my shift!” he replied.

you then noticed the outfit he was wearing—red shorts and a white tank top that read “GUARD” in bold red capital letters. a red lanyard with a whistle attached hung around his neck and he had a red visor tucked under his arm.

the two of you sat at the empty table and jay placed his visor onto it. he leaned forward slightly, a big smile on his face, “but i still have time to chat.”

and just like that it felt as if you were back at that campfire talking about anything and everything—like you and jay had been friends for forever now and it hasn’t been a year since you’ve last seen each other. the two of you just fell into such a natural sync.

you were even opening up to him about everything that happened last summer. mainly because you really couldn’t talk to anyone about it but him. he already understood all of the context and it was just so easy to talk to jay. you hadn’t realized how much you just needed a friend. and jay listened to it all attentively, not missing a single beat and inquiring about things you haven’t even realized.

“but enough about my past…” you murmured sheepishly, turning to the side to try and hide how warmth spread across your face. you just spend ten minutes talking about yourself and your problems without regarding the fact that it was probably coming off as extremely rude. “so how has the past year been for you?” you asked him.

you then gave him a cheeky smile. “any girls you’ve been seeing? interested in? tell me!”

jay laughed and shook his head a little. “no, i haven’t been seeing anyone. pretty much everyone here i’ve known for forever now… not the best candidates.” he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as he looked at you through his lashes. the corners of his mouth rose and he looked off to the side. “there has been this one girl, though… she’s definitely caught my interest.”

you gasped and leaned forward with your hands flat on the table. “what?! why didn’t you say anything sooner? i’ve been over here talking about my pathetic love life when we could've been talking about how good yours is going! have you talked to her yet? what’s her name?” the words flew out your mouth a mile a minute.

jay held his hands up as he chuckled, “woah, woah, slow down. i’ve talked to her a couple times now—but only briefly! i think she’s new in town, probably been here just a little bit longer than you have, actually.”

you grinned, “i’m excited for you! you gotta let me know how it all plays out. and don’t think i didn’t realize how you didn’t tell me her name!” jay’s face quickly turned red.

he stood from his chair, “ah, well, it’s all very new… haha, oh look at the time! my shift is about to start! bye, y/n!” he turned quickly as his words blurted out, throwing his words over his shoulder.

you rolled your eyes and stood to your feet. “whatever, i’ll get it out of you soon enough…”

jay pulled you into a hug as he nervously chuckled. “i seriously doubt it!” he mumbled under his breath before he jogged off.

“i will get her name out of you!” you called as you shook your head at him and watched his retreating figure, smiling softly.

you turned and continued walking aimlessly through the sand, feet sinking into the grains and leaving footprints. you watched as kids laughed and played with each other, darting around you and muttering passing apologies.

you were focused on the kid that almost ran into you running after their friends, not focused at all on the way jake crept up on you. “boo!” he shouted by your ear. you nearly jumped out of your skin, a loud yell erupting from your mouth. once you realized that it was just him, you hit him in his chest hard.

“jake?! are you serious!” you scolded, heat rushing to your face in embarrassment. you covered your face and he pulled you into him as he laughed hysterically. you buried your face in his chest briefly before turning out of his grasp and quickly walking away from the scene, trying to ignore the pairs of eyes that were on you.

jake trailed behind you and you heard him laugh more. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry! but that was so funny!” he said as he caught up to you. “you should’ve seen your face.”

he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. “what are you doing here?” jake asked as he glanced down at you.

“getting my old job back, what are you doing here?” you asked in response, “besides scaring me half to death?”

his smile grew, “came down here bored, until i saw you.” his eyes lit up suddenly. “oh! we should make another bucket list for this summer! since… since we didn’t get to finish the one from last summer…” he trailed off, eyes looking to the side briefly in regret.

you smiled at him, trying to diffuse the sudden awkward tension. “we should!”

jake guided you near the shore and the two of you sat in the sand. the two of you debated what to do this summer for a while, only managing to come up with a couple of things. one of which was going to this year’s summer splash event since you left last year before it happened.

“you’ll still be my date, right?” jake asked shyly. you chucked and nodded. “if you’ll still have me!”

jake gave you that same fond stare that he gave you before you left his house and it made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “of course i do,” he said.

it was such a simple sentence filled with so much. your brows knitted together ever so slightly and you watched the way his eyes darted towards your lips. it then seemingly felt like it was only the two of you on the beach, and you swear that the two of you slowly moved closer to each other.

the sudden shrill of a child’s cry broke the two of you out of your trance and you both snapped towards where a kid was crying over the way the sea messed up his sandcastle. you turned towards jake again and gave him a sheepish smile.

“uh—how about swimming! um, you teach me how to swim… since i can’t…” you sputtered awkwardly, hands waving in the air at the ocean. jake chuckled at the way you suddenly reverted back to your timid nature around him and nodded.

“yeah… i can teach you how to swim!”

you nodded after him. jake began to stand to his feet and you looked at him confused. “i can teach you now, in fact. do you have your bathing suit?”

you rose to your feet as well and nodded. you pulled the tank top strap off your shoulder and looked down to double check, nodding again when you saw the white fabric of your bikini.

jake tucked his finger underneath the thin strap that tied the bikini top around your neck. he pulled at it lightly before letting go and then smirked at you. “good,” he said simply.

your cheeks were already flushed with heat, but the heat just got hotter when you realized why he was smirking. it was the bathing suit you wore to the beach party.

playfully—and in an attempt to mask your warm face—you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. “get your mind out of the gutter,” you mumbled.

jake laughed, “all i said was ‘good!’”

“anyway,” you said, “we should add our names to that skate park! i feel like that would help me really cement my being here permanently.”

laughing harder, jake replied, “isn’t that vandalism? are you even good at graffiti?” he suddenly stopped laughing, expression serious. “wait—permanently? you’re here permanently?!”

still on the subject of the skate park, you shrugged. “it’s abandoned anyways, isn’t it? and how hard is it to use a spray can to write our names? it’s not like we’re tagging it, tagging it.”

jake grabbed your shoulders and your focus zeroed in on him. his eyes were wide as he looked into yours. “you’re here permanently?!” he repeated. you nodded, confusion shifting into realization at the fact that you haven’t told him yet. “yes, permanently. my mom and i moved here the day we met at our spot,” you said.

jake’s hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face. he then kissed you passionately, absolutely taking your breath away. you giggled when he pulled away and he started kissing you all over your face. “jake!” you giggled more, pushing him away from you slightly.

“i’m sorry,” he said a bit breathlessly, “you just don’t know how relieved i am to hear that.” he chuckled awkwardly as he gave you some space and tucked some of his hair behind his ear. “so, skate park? got it, anything you want to do! we have all the time in the world.”

you mind immediately snapped back to the skate park. “i feel like that’s not as adventurous as our last bucket list though!” you pouted.

jake pulled you towards where there were some free towels at the boardwalk. he turned back and cheekily smiled at you, “i can think of something adventurous.” you stopped in your tracks and swatted his shoulder. “i’m just saying!” jake laughed. “we’ve done a lot, but there’s still some things we haven’t done yet… you catch me?”

heat crept up the back of your neck and you crossed your arms across your chest. jake’s eyes darted down to the action. indulging him, you asked, “like what?”

jake stepped closer to you and reached up to mess with the straps of your bikini. he leaned more into you and dropped his voice so only you would hear what he was saying. “different places, different positions… there’s so many things i could do to you that you haven’t experienced yet.” your eyes connected with his.

“or you could do to me,” he added, lower.

you looked away, face on fire. jake dropped his hands from the straps he was fiddling with to his sides. he took another step closer to you until you both were almost chest to chest and grazed his hand along the side of your waist. jake leaned down until his lips were at the shell of your ear. “if you want,” he whispered.

he pulled away, smiling at you like he didn’t just insinuate what he did and cause arousal to pool in your bikini bottoms. he grabbed your wrist lightly and pulled you the rest of the way to the towels, handing you a rolled up one from the basket and taking one from himself.

you were still in shock, eyes wide as you stared at him. you then snapped out of it when you realized he was chuckling. tucking the towel underneath your arm, you used the basket of towels to lean forward towards him. discreetly, you slid your hand down his stomach and stopped right above the hem of his shorts. “sounds fun,” you smiled innocently. “i know exactly what i could do.”

you hand trailed lower before you backed away from him. you held in your laugh at just how quickly the bulge in his shorts was rising and his ears turned red. you looked towards the sea, “so where do you wanna start?” you asked casually. “i’m gonna have to strip these clothes off first.”

you turned back to him and smiled again, that same innocent smile.

the corner of jake’s mouth rose in a “two can play at this game” way. he opened his mouth to speak, but got cut off by someone suddenly entering your conversation. “look at what the cat dragged back in,” the voice said, mean and full of bitterness.

you almost instantly recognized that voice, and it seems that jake did too since his face instantly twisted into one of annoyance and hatred. he moved closer to you while also hiding his boner with the basket of towels.

hana walked up to the two of you with a sneer and a dripping popsicle in one hand. two girls you never seen before trailed behind her with a matching sneer. you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms against your chest, leaning your weight towards jake. “thought the two of you went up in flames last summer?” hana added.

she focused her attention on you, “don’t tell me you’re still falling for his ‘i love you’s’… how lame.”

jake scoffed, before either of you could say anything you noticed jungwon come up to you all. he pushed past the two random girls and shoulder-checked hana as he came to your side. “look what desperation dragged in. i know the saying is ‘misery loves company’ but this is just getting pathetic, hana. don’t you have a job to be at?” hana scoffed and opened her mouth, but jungwon beat her to it.

“oh yeah, you don’t. because you got fired. i think it’s time you go find one, don’t you think?”

hana rolled her eyes. “whatever,” she said, trying to pretend like she wasn’t bothered. she stuck the popsicle in her mouth briefly as she turned towards the girls. “didn’t want to stick around you losers anyways.”

she looked over her shoulder at you, “careful, y/n. you know jake’s still in love with me.” she then winked at him and jake’s face twisted further into disgust.

“you fucking wish. i was never even infatuated with you in the first place. you already know that sunghoon is the reason why i even stayed with you for those four months,” jake spit out, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “stop making my life fucking hell and just move on already. i know i already have.”

you saw the way hana’s face fell and how she quickly masked it with a sickly sweet smile. “keep telling yourself that, jakey,” she said before walking away.

you loudly scoffed at her retreating body and the way she purposefully swayed her hips back and forth as you turned towards jake and jungwon. “the audacity she has is honestly astounding,” jungwon said, face mirroring yours.

“delusional,” you added, “the lot of them.”

“forget her,” jake said as he pulled you and jungwon’s attention back to him. he then smiled, “let’s go swimming!”

“how hard is it to put one arm in front of the other?!” jungwon demonstrated how to use your arms to swim once again as a laugh was pulled from him. he swam out farther into the sea and then swam back, standing where you and jake were. “see? easy.”

“i’m doing the best that i can!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air in mild frustration as the remnants of a wave hit against your stomach.

jake then chimed in, “it’s actually not that easy!” jungwon turned to him in confusion and jake swam out a little from where the two of you stood. “there’s actually a certain way you want to move your arms in order to not hurt your shoulders.”

you turned to jungwon with a triumphant smirk. “see!” you said while crossing your arms. jungwon rolled his eyes.

jake continued demonstrating, specifically pointing out how to move your body to not hurt your shoulders. he also showed how to gain more speed and stay under the water for longer with breathing techniques. “here, let’s do it together,” he said, swimming towards you.

he made sure your positioning was correct and guided you slowly towards the deeper part of where you all stood. “like this! if you’re feeling any type of pain in your shoulders than you’re doing it wrong.”

after a couple minutes of adjusting and positioning, you really thought you were getting the hang of it. when jake was guiding you there wasn’t any pain in your shoulders at all, but as soon as you started to do it on your own you immediately felt the tightness in them. your face scrunched up as you instantly reverted back to doggy paddling, causing jake and jungwon to laugh.

with full shame, you doggy paddled back to where they stood. “you know… i don’t think swimming is for me, actually.”

“i tried teaching her last year,” jungwon started, amusement tinging his voice, “she literally almost drowned. it’s hopeless…” you glared at him and then rolled your eyes. you’d like to think that if it weren’t for the large waves that day that you would’ve been fine.

jake laughed and you glared at him too, though without as much venom. “it’s a good thing i was there!” he looked at you with the biggest smile on his face and you rolled your eyes at him too. they both laughed again as you tried to think of the quickest way to discard bodies on a public beach.

“we’ll try teaching you again another time,” jake continued. “you’re…” he trailed off trying to find the right word for what he was thinking. “horrible,” jungwon concluded.

“still a novice!” jake quickly corrected. you mumbled out a lame insult to the both of them and walked towards your towel on the beach.

they followed after you, still chuckling, as you wrapped the towel around your soaked body. “it’s not all your fault!” jungwon exclaimed. “your hometown didn’t have an ocean, or even a pool, really. don’t blame yourself!” you scoffed at his cheap attempt to make you feel better and the both of you laughed. your hometown barely had a highschool with a pool. you were never taught to swim in school because all the seniors poured so much gasoline into the pool as a prank that your school had to close off the area and it just never reopened.

coincidentally, that was one of the times jungwon was staying with you and your mom. on a dare, he made you venture into the closed off pool room and you almost didn’t make it out alive. yes, the two of you got in a huge amount of trouble by your parents. you made jungwon do all of your chores for the remaining two months he was there.

“we should probably start heading home though,” said jungwon, “i accidentally broke mom’s sculpture while helping auntie move in her stuff and might’ve insinuated that it was your fault…” your eyes widened as you slowly turned to him. he scratched the back of his head guiltily.

“what?!” you nearly shouted.

“yeah…”

you ran your hands down your face as you turned to jake. “i’ll see you later,” you sighed, moving into his open arms for a hug. “or maybe i won’t after this,” you added suddenly.

“i’ll see you later,” jake repeated as he laughed.

as you and jungwon walked off—more like ran since you were currently trying to smother him in the sand—he kept looking behind you and laughing to himself. you caught him the act again just as the two of you were about to leave the boardwalk. he looked behind the two of you, shook his head a little, and laughed. “what?” you asked him. he hummed in question at your response. “what’s so funny?” you continued, looking behind you as well. you couldn’t tell what could possibly be making him laugh.

“oh, nothing.” jungwon looked behind him again. you nudged him with your elbow, trying to get him to confess.

jungwon laughed again. “jake’s been staring at you this entire time with the fondest, most lovesick puppy look i’ve ever seen. i don’t think he moved from that spot or even blinked since we walked away.”

you whipped your head around and looked around until you saw him. indeed, jungwon was right. you smiled to yourself and gave him a little wave. the smile on jake’s face grew as he waved back.

“gross,” jungwon commented as the two of you turned out of jake’s sight.

jake had, once again, put himself in the position where he was forced to listen about sunghoon’s recent victim’s complaints about their relationship. ever since he met you, he questioned how he ever found any of this entertaining. listening to sunghoon go on and on about the girls he wronged just made him feel exhausted—and guilty. jake couldn’t even begin to imagine how the girls he fucked over must’ve felt. the only thing he could come close to was the image of your heartbroken face the day you left him a year ago.

he never wanted to see that face ever again.

“she wanted me to fuck her—i fucked her. i told her not to expect a relationship out of all of this—now she’s crying about how i was dragging her along!” sunghoon ranted to jake as they made their way down to the boardwalk. sunghoon turned to him with an exasperated expression, “i don’t know how more clear i can get!”

jake pulled the whistle from his shorts and put the lanyard around his neck. “have you ever thought of being in a committed relationship with someone?” he asked sunghoon. jake adjusted his lifeguarding outfit as they got closer to the boardwalk.

sunghoon made a face. “dude, be serious. i’m young! i’ll settle down with someone when i’m, like, thirty or whatever.”

rolling his eyes, jake laughed at sunghoon’s reluctance to commit to someone. “if you find anyone willing to be with you that you haven’t fucked over by then.” the two of them laughed and stepped onto the boardwalk. it wasn’t as busy of a day today, which jake was thankful for.

“alright, i gotta go. my shift’s about to start,” jake said and turned to sunghoon. jake clasped sunghoon’s hand and gave him a quick pat on the back.

sunghoon nodded his head over to the lifeguard who was coming off duty—jay. jake tried not to roll his eyes. “incoming, you know how he is,” sunghoon said. “see ya, man.”

they went on their separate paths and jake walked to where jay was so they could switch. jay looked over from where he was grabbing his towel off the elevated chair ladder. jay gave a tight smile to jake, which already made jake’s blood boil. the only thing he could think about when he looked at him was how close the two of you seemed that night at the beach party.

as jay cleared his things for jake, he tried to make small talk to make the tension less awkward and heavy. “have you heard y/n is in back in town? for good?” jay asked. why was he asking him about you?

jake tried to not let his fist meet jay’s face again.

he tried not to be possessive over you, especially since the two of you weren’t even together again yet. and he wasn’t one to try and keep you from your friends, but jay was a whole different story. jake tried to not let the jealousy seep into his voice, “yeah, duh. i’m the first one she saw.”

“hm,” jay hummed as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

what was that supposed to mean? jake side eyed him. he was the first one you saw when you landed, right? jake would absolutely recoil into himself if he wasn’t. surely it wasn’t jay who you saw first, right? jake ignored him and started to set his own stuff down.

“better hope you don’t fuck everything up again, never know who might swoop in and take your place.” there was the jay that jake knew. the asshole under this whole ‘nice guy’ act he had been playing.

jake turned fully to him. “who? you?”

jake almost laughed in his face. jay couldn’t be serious, but he promised you he would try his hardest to not let there be any drama this summer. even if his fingers itched to wipe that slight smug smirk off jay’s face.

jay just shrugged. “could be, who knows? she’s very likable and very beautiful. everywhere she goes she attracts the stare of some guy. and i would say that you know girls don’t like to be treated like garbage, but with your track record that clearly isn’t obvious to you. you already almost lost her for good once.”

jake’s anger boiled over completely and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second to try and calm himself. it did nothing. jake wryly laughed and stepped up to jay. “so you think you can take her from me? you?” jake laughed again. “i’d like to see you try. incase it wasn’t obvious—she’s in love with me, not you. don’t you hate being a pale imitation?”

jake wanted to bring up every way that he had bested jay—down to the smallest thing, such as being able to tie his shoes before him. he would always be the better man. and even if jake wasn’t in some aspect, he would make damn sure that at the end of the day he was. jay had nothing on him, you had to see that.

it angered jake that jay was even talking about you this way. in a way that suggested he could get close enough to you for the two of you to be together instead of you and him. ridiculous, it all was. the only thing jay would be is a lesser version of him, constantly chasing after anything he had that he could never have. jake should’ve put him in his place when he had the chance three years ago.

jay’s smug smirk grew. “i don’t have to do anything. all it takes is her finding out the truth about the piece of shit that you really are and the game you like to play. and what’s inept infatuation to true bonding?” jay patted jake on the shoulder and jake harshly glared at him and pulled his shoulder away. “best of luck,” jay said in a low voice before walking away.

as jake climbed up to his post, the heat of the sun was nothing to the scalding anger inside him. he knew one thing for sure—luck would not be on jay’s side if he had anything to do with it.

you and jake were meant to be together, and jay’s hollow words weren’t going to change that.

jay: hey, are you free? jay: cashing in that rain check to hang out.

you were on your way home, but it couldn’t hurt to hang out with jay. the two of you needed to spend more than twenty minutes together anyway and catch up more.

besides, the picture of him, jake, and sunghoon suddenly crossed your mind, reminding you that you had forgotten to ask jake about it. maybe jay would give you some insight on why the two of them had bad blood between each other when they were once “swimming buds for life!”

you: haha of course! jay: awesome, meet me at the boardwalk? jay: we can hang out at my place. you: i’ll see you there!

you turned around and walked back down the boardwalk, picking an empty table to wait at in a relatively clear area. the polaroid wouldn’t leave your mind as you speculated what could’ve possibly split them apart.

was it just a mere difference of opinion? or was it the two of them simply growing up and going their separate ways? your mind then replayed their interaction at the beach party last year, how angry they were at just seeing each other. it had to be something deeper than that. perhaps some sort of betrayal?

if that was the case, then who betrayed who? and why?

or maybe the reason was because of this game—the player’s game, as jay mentioned. the one that you have already been a victim of. his words crossed your mind, “there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”

he had to be a victim of the game too, if he was saying that to you. were jake and sunghoon possibly a factor in it?

before you could speculate any further, jay’s voice shocked you out of your thoughts. “hey,” he smiled, grabbing your attention. you smiled back at him as you stood. “hey!”

as the two of you walked to jay’s house, he must’ve saw that your mind was elsewhere. jay nudged into you slightly as you walked side by side. “you’re quiet today, what’s on your mind?” he asked. 

you racked your mind for a way to bring up his and jake’s past friendship subtly, so as to not barge too into their private matters without permission. you decided to try and pose it a different way. “oh, sorry! i just got off work so i’m kind of everywhere right now…” you trailed off, before purposefully perking up as if you just thought of something. “hey, how do you and jake know each other?”

you then internally panicked, thinking that that was maybe too forward, and added, “i’ve been spilling my whole love story with him, and at the beach party the two of you seemed familiar…”

jay’s eyebrows knitted together as he thought over your question. you hoped that you didn’t hit a sensitive subject as you subtly wiped your sweaty palms onto the back of your jean shorts. “we use to be friends—best friends,” jay started, “and on the swim team together back in highschool. him and his friends were just really shitty, so i decided to distance myself from them for my own good.”

you nodded along at his words, trying to place them in the puzzle board in your mind. jay’s answer was vague, but at least it was something—a start. you’d just have to get your answers out of him and jake whenever plausible. 

a house that you assumed was his came up into view as the two of you continued walking. “so how did you get involved with jake? i know i kind of already asked you this before, but i’m still curious.” jay guided you towards the house as he spoke.

you told him about you and jungwon swimming in the ocean and how jungwon left to go get something to eat. about how you then mistakenly went further out despite not knowing to swim and how the waves kept beating you down. then finally about how jake had come and saved you.

jay gave you an incredulous look as he held open the gate to his backyard for you. you nodded in confirmation and his shock only grew. “i’m gonna have to teach you how to swim, then!” he exclaimed.

you looked around his backyard. he had a large in-ground pool with a nice patio set up filled with lounge chairs, tables, and an outside bar. jay’s backyard was absolutely beautiful. 

“apparently i’m a bad student, but it’s a deal!” you joked and jay laughed, leading you to where the lounge chairs were by the pool.

“show me what you got! you can’t be that bad at swimming.” jay then suddenly stripped off his shirt, leaving him in swim trunks. your eyes widened and surveyed the upper half of his body. jay slunk into the pool, going underwater for a few seconds, and surfaced. he slicked back his now wet hair and looked up at you expectantly. “well?” he chuckled.

you laughed, half of it full of shock and the other half full of nervousness, and stood from the chair. you began taking off your tank top and shorts as jay swam away from where you stood. once you were done, you dipped a toe into the water, face scrunching up at the coldness, and slid in completely. you shivered slightly as you slowly walked to where jay stood in the center of the shallow end of the pool.

jay motioned for you to swim a little and you ducked down until your chin touched the water. “jake taught me for a little bit last week, but it didn’t really stick,” you said as you swam around a little and showed off what you learned from him. you felt jay’s eyes on you as you swam and it made you nervous about your swimming form.

“well i’m a much better teacher than jake.”

you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you didn’t get the chance since jay swam up to you. jay’s fingers trail over your arms, positioning them as he told you how to move them effectively. he then had you swim around his pool more to see what else you needed to work on.

jay’s eyebrows were raised and he looked like he was holding back a laugh. “i told you i was bad!” you exclaimed, sulking down into the water as you swam to him.

“not bad, just…” jay trailed off and you quirked an eyebrow teasingly at him, “just…” jay laughed, not able to finish his sentence and you pushed him.

“see!” you laughed.

“it’s okay, we can fix it.” jay then came closer to you, instructing you to hold out your arms. he came up behind you, his chest almost pressing against your back as his hands slid down your arms. he began to move them in a swimming motion.

“this is the motion you want your arms to do—straighten your fingers more, you don’t want a cupping motion,” jay spoke. his hands moved to your shoulders as you continued moving your arms, moving them backwards and forwards and then down to your waist to do the same.

you heart rate picked up from just how close he was to you, his hands all over you, and his voice next to your ear. your breath hitched lowly as his hands moved to your hips. of course you noticed just how handsome jay was—you noticed when you first surfaced from the water and he scared you—but seeing it all up close was something different. being this close to him made you feel nervous, and it felt a little wrong, too.

you knew that you and jake weren’t together, but being this close to someone else after being so close to him felt a little dirty. like you were cheating on him in some way even though you knew that wasn’t true. it also—deep down inside you—excited you, being this close to another guy.

jay moved around your body until he was to the side of you. his eyes moved from his hands that left your hips and up your body and the way that it moved until his eyes locked on yours. a satisfied smile crossed his features. “just like that, you got it,” jay praised. you inhaled sharply at the way his praise went straight down to the pit of your stomach.

you hoped that your body’s reaction to him came off as nervousness. following his guidance, you gave a small leap as you swam around in a circle in the shallow end of his pool. you did another lap before swimming back to jay. he clapped a couple times as you reached him, a proud smile on his face. “i told you i was a good teacher!”

he grabbed your bare waist as you stilled and your eyes widened a fraction more than they already were. “next time, though, make sure you use your hips more. it makes the whole movement more smooth.”

the feelings inside you made you feel extremely guilty. jay was simply just trying to teach you how to swim, yet your mind was on anything but that. even now, with his hands sliding down to your hips briefly as he finished speaking, he was so close to you that you were practically chest to chest.

dumbly, you looked at him and into his intense stare, breathing hard. you nodded at his previous sentence, though you weren’t actually sure what he said to you. jay smiled, voice softer, “you did so good! you’ll be a pro in no time!”

all you could do was nod again.

there was then silence between the two of you, and this time you were sure that jay could feel the tension. the two of you held each other’s stare, unbreaking. suddenly, jay’s gaze flicked down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. you inhaled deeply as the look in his eyes shifted.

your phone then went off, the sound of a received text message seemingly louder than it ever was before. you and jay jumped apart, the tension in the air turning awkward as jay shifted away from you slightly. “uh, i’ll go get us something to drink…” he trailed off.

“oh—um, yeah…” you muttered awkwardly.

you both got out of the pool and you used the towel hanging off the back of the lounge chair to dry off before checking the message you received.

jake: hey, where are you? are you off work yet? you: yeah! i’ve been hanging out with jay. why?

the guilt ate away at you even more. you knew it was ridiculous—you didn’t do anything wrong, the two of you just swam around together. but everything just felt weird and off now, like it was a secret you now had to hide from jake. his next message didn’t make you feel any better either.

jake: hanging out with jay?! why are you with him? you: he’s my friend? and i haven’t really seen him since i got here… you: is that a problem?

jake didn’t immediately answer and it made you speculate about the friendship he and jay once had. your phone didn’t ping with his text message until right as jay was coming through the sliding glass doors with two cups in his hands. “i got us some lemonade, i hope that’s okay!” jay said, handing you one of the cups.

jake: no, not a problem at all.

instead of swimming more, you and jay decided to chill outside of the pool and soak in some of the summer sun and talk. the more you talked, the more the awkward tension that was between the two of you slowly dissipated and talking to jay again was easy.

the weird feeling inside of you didn’t disappear, though. as you talked, your eyes couldn’t help but be attached to jay. the way the sun beamed off his drying skin and how he kept pushing the long, damp strands of his hair out of his face. the way his whole face lit up when you said something funny and a smile broke out into a laugh. it made your heart race.

suddenly, it finally clicked in your brain. you were attracted to him.

guilt poured into you even more and you started to shyly avoid his gaze. if jay noticed the sudden shift in you—which you hoped he didn’t—he didn’t mention it. you made sure you eyes were focused on anything but him as you talked.

you tried categorizing jay in your mind as strictly a friend, but even then it felt like he didn’t fit into the box. like he belonged somewhere between “friend” and “potential romantic interest” and that alarmed you even more. so you did the only thing you could think of at the moment to metaphorically shove him back into the “friend” box.

“you know, you’re like my bestfriend, right?” you laughed, making sure to make eye contact with him.

jay’s smile grew. “i’m your bestfriend?” he teased, leaned forward on the lounge chair towards you. “write it in stone. get the friendship bracelets out!” a small sigh of relief escaped you and you laughed, glad that he didn’t give you a weird look or anything.

jay stood from his chair, a hand at his chest, “i feel like i have to say a speech now or something.”

you immediately waved your hands in the air in front of you. “no!” you dragged the vowel out, “that is not necessary!” jay laughed harder.

you checked the time on you phone and sighed. “i should probably head home now… my mom’s probably wondering where i got off to after work…” you stood to your feet, smile faltering on your face.

“no issue! ill walk you,” jay said.

you gave him another shy smile. it was probably best that you didn’t spend more time with jay at this moment until you sorted yourself out. you didn’t know whether it was that your emotions were still everywhere from the move and you haven’t quite settled in yet, or what, but you had to get it together and fast. 

“oh—don’t worry about it!” you quickly said, “i have to stop down by the boardwalk and pick up something for my mom.” it was a lie, but jay was standing so close to you that it was all you had.

“okay!” jay replied. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug, shaking you a bit. “we’ll hang out some more sometime later, bestfriend.”

you laughed, hugging him back and ignoring your racing heart. you looked to the sky at the way the sun passed through the leaves of the trees. it was a little past noon and you were ready to get out of your bathing suit.

jay walked you to his backyard gate and opened it for you, following you out. “see ya!” you waved at him. he repeated your words, waving goodbye.

just as you turned away from him, a rundown van that honestly looked on its last life pulled up to the walkway. behind you, jay scoffed and you looked at the oncomer curiously as you kept walking. you heard jay’s footsteps behind you walk towards the van.

as you turned towards the path to the boardwalk, you heard jay say, “heeseung, when are you gonna get rid of that beat up fucking van? shit is falling apart.” who you could only assume was heeseung replied, “don’t talk about betsy like that!”

you laughed to yourself as you continued on your way away from jay’s house. 

as you were walking, completely in your own world, you felt an arm wrap around your waist. you nearly jumped out of your skin as you turned and screeched. jake immediately held his hands up, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!”

you let out the biggest sigh of relief before hitting him on the chest. “asshole! this is, like, the second time you’ve scared me nearly to death!”

jake laughed before wrapping his arms back around your waist, pulling you into him. he pressed a kiss to your cheek and smiled down at you. “i tried calling your name, but you weren’t listening! what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head slightly and shrugged a little. you were just glad to be in his arms again. “nothing,” you replied, “just a little spaced out, i guess.”

jake hummed and the two of you continued walking together. you noticed how jake had subtly guided you away from the path to the boardwalk and onto one you remembered from when you first landed here—his house.

this was your chance. with jay only giving you a vague answer about their history, maybe jake would give you more insight. you looked at him, “hey, jake?”

jake hummed again, brows slightly drawn together as he smiled at you. it was time to bite the bullet. “you and jay use to be bestfriends, right? what happened between the two of you?” you asked. jake’s smile fell and he looked down to the ground before looking forward. there was almost what seemed to be a flash of anger that crossed his features at the mention of jay’s name.

“uh…” jake trailed, tucking a stray strand of his hair that wasn’t already tied up behind his ear. “i was a really shitty person back then. i hurt a lot of people—did a lot of things that i now regret.”

that was basically a regurgitated version of what jay had already told you, it wasn’t enough. you needed to know more. “yeah, i know that already. but what did you do to him that you guys aren’t friends anymore?” you said, trying to make yourself more clear.

“why do you want to know so bad?” jake asked, slight annoyance in his tone as he looked back to you.  “did jay say something to you?” his arm around your waist tightened.

jake had never gotten annoyed at you, so you felt the need to defend yourself. “no, but i saw that picture on your wall with you, him, and sunghoon. ‘swimming buds for life!’” you sarcastically mocked as you did air quotes. “and you freaked out when you heard that i was hanging out with him. should jay have said something?”

the annoyance in jake’s features only grew and he rolled his eyes at the mention of jay’s name. you didn’t understand why he was acting this way over a simple question. you told him you wanted no drama, and you thought he understood that. so why won’t he tell you what happened between him and jay? you thought that he would start being more transparent with you after last summer.

you didn’t realize that you were already at his house until he pushed the door open and took your hand in his to drag you up the stairs to his bedroom. “it’s not important,” jake said, pushing his bedroom door open. you followed him through, shutting the door behind you to muffle the noise. “but it is!” you insisted, voice raising as you stopped in your tracks.

jake turned around so he faced you, running his hands through the hair that escaped his ponytail that he sported before running them down his face in frustration. “he’s my friend and you’re—” you cut yourself off, sighing deeply and sitting on the edge of his bed. “why can’t you just give me a straight answer? what is it? what is it about me and him being friendly that has you acting like this?”

you looked at the way jake started to pace in front of you with a worried expression. was what happened between the two of them so bad that it couldn’t even be uttered? surely not, right?

“i—i just can’t fucking stand him! and i can't stand you with him,” jake began to ramble, face twisted into an expression you couldn’t quite read. “you not with me. i can’t stand how he spun all of this to seem like he is the innocent one in all of this—like he wasn’t part of the game too! like he wasn’t a shitty person too!”

jake continued, voice raising, but never reaching a yell, “and i can't stand—couldn’t possibly fathom losing you again because of him.” jake came to stand before you, desperately looking at you.

you shook your head in confusion. “what are you talking about—losing me? how would you lose me?”

jake slumped down next to you, leaning over to run his hands through his hair that had completely fallen out of his ponytail now. you glanced around his room, noting the pictures of the two of you hanging up on his walls that weren’t there before. he had replaced some of the previous pictures with one of the two of you. just then, a lightbulb illuminated in your head. “jake… are you… jealous?” you asked him quietly, brows drawn together.

“yes!” he exasperatedly shouted, falling back onto his bed and rubbing his eyes.

you turned, “you have nothing to be jealous about? jay and i are just friends!”

jake shook his head, eyes still covered. “you’re gonna find out how absolutely shitty i was in the past and how he’s so perfect and want nothing to do with me.” jake uncovered his eyes and looked at you sullenly. “i don’t know what i would do with myself if you wanted nothing to do with me.”

you laid down next to him so you were face to face and grabbed his hand. absentmindedly, jake rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand. you looked at jake and his kicked puppy expression, “you don’t have anything to worry about, jake. nothing.”

you looked at him firmly to make sure your words were really sinking in. you may have found jay attractive, but jake is the one who kept you up at night. who you can’t stop thinking about no matter how hard you try—who you spent a whole year thinking about. the one who you graciously let hold your heart.

“there’s no competition between you and jay,” you added in a low voice.

jake seemed to relax and the line between his brows smoothened. “a girl,” jake suddenly said. you gave him a confused look.

“he was in love with this girl, but she liked me instead of him. when he found out things didn’t go over so well… split the whole swim team in half with people choosing sides. it was a loss for both of us.” jake looked down at your intertwined hands, voice quiet.

“well i’m not her,” you stated. “you won’t lose me.” 

jake looked up at you and you scooted closer to him, lips mere centimeters apart. “you won’t,” you repeated, pressing your lips to his. jake’s hand raised to cup your cheek as his lips fell in sync with yours. the two of you stayed like that for a moment, the kiss growing more passionate and desperate as time went on.

you straddled him, lips still attached to his, and instantly jake’s hands came to your hips. pulling away, you breathed, “let me make you feel good this time.”

furrowing his brows, jake looked up at you with confusion. “you always make me feel good,” you started, crawling backwards until your hands reached the band of his loose shorts. “let me return the favor.”

you crawled all the way off of his bed and sat on your knees between his legs, your hands resting neatly in your lap. jake sat up, eyes widening slightly as he stared hard down at you. you looked up at him with big, hesitant doe eyes.

“you cannot look up at me like that, pretty.” a shy smile grew at his words and at the way you saw the tent in his shorts grow.

“will you teach me how?” you asked him. you’ve never given anyone a blowjob in your life, you barely even gave a handjob. nerves flooded you at the fact that you would possibly do something wrong and that would be the end of it. or that you didn’t do it well enough and it was just disappointing.

you ran your hands up jake’s thighs and played with the drawstring of his shorts. jake screwed his eyes shut and nodded a little, inhaling sharply before opening his eyes again. “are you sure?” he asked you, worry tinging his features. “you don’t have to—and i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i want to,” you stated firmly, fingers hooking onto the band of his shorts now. you tugged lightly at it.

“alright,” jake breathed out. “don’t do anything you aren’t ready for.”

you nodded impatiently, eagerly pulling down his shorts and boxers in response. jake lifted his hips so they slid off all of the way, his heavy cock springing free from its restraints. you took his cock in your hands and jake lightly put a hand on the back of your head to signal you to stop.

“go slow, and don’t try to take more than you can handle to try and please me,” he said seriously. “i don’t want you hurting yourself.”

nodding again, you nervously looked at his cock in your hands. you weren’t sure what to do first. wrap your mouth around him or stroke him first? your grip was feather-light and you looked back up at jake so he could tell you what to do.

he caressed the back of your head comfortingly, “you don’t have to be nervous, baby, it’s just me.” jake gave you a reassuring smile and you gave him a small nervous one back. “you don’t have to hold it so lightly either, don’t be afraid to grab it.”

inhaling deeply, you tightened your grip until it was firm, but not too tight that you thought might hurt. jake moaned lightly, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. “i-is that good?” you asked worriedly.

jake nodded, inhaling hard. “yes, yes, just like that.” drips of precum slid down the flushed tip of his cock. “now, just move your hands up and down while twisting back and forth a little.”

you did exactly as he said, moving you hands up and down his length while maintaining the grip you already had. your eyes were trained on jake’s face and the way soft moans left his parted lips and his head tilted back more and more.

“good, baby,” jake breathed out heavily. you felt the way his cock practically throbbed in your hands. “when you get to the top, grab harder.”

“harder?” you asked, slightly more worried. your grip was already firm and he wants you to tighten it? jake nodded more, brows knitted together as his eyes squeezed shut, “mhm.” his moans were louder now and his hand that was at your head moved to press down into his mattress with his other hand.

you kept stroking him, his precum making the motion a bit easier. when you got to the flushed tip of his cock, you squeezed down harder. a loud moan left jake’s mouth as his hips bucked up into your hands. “ah fuck,” he groaned under his breath.

you smiled. it was nice to see him twisted in pleasure instead of the other way around. it was especially nice to know that you were the cause of it. that you were making him feel this good. you wondered if this is how he felt when he made you feel this good. it made your skin heat up and arousal pool at your core the more you thought about it and the more he moaned and whimpered for you.

jake tried hard to keep his hips still, but it was as if he physically couldn’t control himself. “can i try my mouth now?” you asked timidly. breathing hard, jake nodded. he looked down at you with hooded, clouded eyes of lust.

you sat up on your knees a bit and leaned forward. you looked down at his reddened mushroom tip and started with some apprehensive kitten licks. above you, jake inhaled sharply. you looked up at him nervously and you saw something shift in his features. his pupils blew wide with lust and his fingers gripped his comforter to keep his hands at his sides.

“slow,” he intrustructed. it came out almost strangled.

hesitantly, you wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock as if it were a lollipop, sucking your cheeks in a bit. another loud moan was ripped deep from within jake and he threw his head back completely. you pulled your mouth off of him, eyes widening, before preparing yourself to take more of his cock inside your mouth.

you wrapped your mouth around him again, going farther down his thick length before you suddenly gagged. jake’s eyes flew down at you and his hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head to pull you off of him. “are you okay, baby?” he asked, frantic.

you nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked up at him with watery eyes. his cock in you free hand twitched. you swallowed thickly, “sorry…”

he moved his hand at the back of your head to caress your cheek. “it’s okay, just take it easy. okay?” jake said softly. “okay,” you replied.

inhaling, you took him into your mouth again, this time taking jake’s advice and going slow. you went down inch by inch, stopping before you got the feeling of having to gag again. you wrapped your hands around the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit inside your mouth and applied the same pressure as before. 

slowly, you bobbed your head up and down, sucking inwards so your cheeks hollowed. “breathe—” jake spoke before getting cut off by his own moans and whimpers. “…through your nose.”

it must’ve been really difficult for jake, trying to control himself while talking you through what to do at the same time. even now, the more you sucked him off, the more you felt him struggling to still himself so he didn’t potentially hurt you. a part of you wanted him to just let go.

you didn’t even notice the fire in your lungs until he mentioned breathing. so you inhaled through your nose, the tension in your body immediately being relieved even though it took you a few tries to actually breath through your nose and suck at the same time. at the base of his cock, you moved your hands in the same up and down and twisting motion.

jake was practically panting now, knuckles white with the way he gripped his comforter. his moans and whimpers increased and his hips bucked up into your mouth lightly, signaling that he was real close to cumming. “shit,” jake cursed, half of it coming out in a whine.

his hand was at the back of your head again, using your hair to pull your mouth off of him. you kept moving your hands, this time bringing them up further—and squeezing at his tip—to accommodate the lack of your mouth.

you barely got to lean away before his cum was shooting out of him and all over your face and hands. drips of it landed on his thighs and jake fell back on his hands, a loud moan ripping through him as his head flew back. you kept stroking him, the remaining cum dripping down your hands, as you helped him through his high. jake’s hips lazily thrusted up into your hands as he tried to catch his breathing.

once jake was finished, his cock softening in your hands, he sat up to look at you. you looked at him with hesitant doe eyes again and his eyes widened to saucers as he took in the scene in front of him. “was it good?” you asked shyly, worry hanging on the edge of your words. you swear you felt his cock harden.

“perfect. it was perfect, pretty,” jake responded, gently grabbing your chin. you licked your lips and was surprised at the slight salty taste of his cum. jake smiled and chucked a bit, “if you could see yourself from my point of view right now…”

you smiled cheekily at him. “so take a picture and show me.”

that got him hard again.

jake raised an eyebrow at you, his smile turning into a smirk. he leaned down to his shorts pocket and fished out his phone, then he aimed the camera at you and you heard the click of a picture.

he still had his phone aimed at you. you giggled, “do you want me to pose?” jake laughed and you joined him. “if you want,” he smiled.

you lifted his heavy, half hard cock in your hands and placed your tongue at the side of his tip while you stared into the camera. “careful…” jake warned teasingly. “i don’t think i could control myself again.” you smiled before wrapping your lips around him, giggling.

a moan slipped past jake’s lips and you laughed, pulling away. he tossed his phone behind him and raised his brows at you. jake grabbed your arms and pulled you to your feet. “okay, little miss eager… let’s get you cleaned up. i don’t think you want to go walking around with my cum all over your face.”

being back at you and jake’s spot evoked emotions inside you that you weren’t quite ready for. being at your spot and laying under the stars with him caused a whole bigger tidal wave. it made you think of every moment that the two of you had here—good and bad. jake was right, this really is the best place to see the stars.

the last time the two of you watched the stars together, you were tucked into jake’s side, almost cheek to cheek. now the two of you were seperate—the only connection being the brushing together of your arms. you didn’t like how far away he felt, but you weren’t quite sure how to bridge the gap further.

you felt jake’s heavy stare on the side of your face and you looked over at him instead of the stars. you had spent the rest of the day together, roaming around the small town with your phones on record capturing every moment until the two of you ended up here. it felt like the day when you had stumbled into your shared spot and you and jake’s relationship changed forever. you quirked an eyebrow at him as the two of you stared at each other for a moment. you could tell that something was weighing on his mind.

jake exhaled, “i know you wanna take things slow, so i won’t ask you…” his eyes flickered to the stars before focusing on you again. you really appreciated how he was being open with his feelings with you, especially since he told you how difficult it was for him. “but, just know you’re the only one for me. no games, no lies, nothing. i want only you. you’re the only one i’ll ever want.”

you shifted so you were fully facing him, shocked at where this was coming from all of a sudden. you thought you curbed his earlier jealousy—maybe it was something else? “is this because of what hana said a few weeks ago? cause i don’t believe a single word out of her mouth. i know how you feel about me, i know that you aren’t a player anymore.”

“yes and no…” jake trailed. “i just want to make sure that you know. whenever you want to take things to the next level, i’ll be there. i don’t want you to think this is only about the sex for me, ‘cause it isn’t.”

jake then suddenly panicked, waving his hand in between the two of you. “though the sex is great—amazing, even, and i really, really enjoy it! so don’t think—”

you cut him off with a soft laugh, he is so cute when he is flustered. “i know, jake, i know.”

you sat up from the blanket you both are laying on. “turn around!” you tell jake. he smiled and turned towards the blanket while covering his eyes. “don’t look!”

taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. you thought now was as good as a time to take things to the next level. in the sand you nervously wrote out ‘boyfriend? yes or no’ with check boxes next to ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ 

you knew you prioritized taking things slow—which you definitely didn’t do—and having jake’s actions speak louder than his words, but you knew what you wanted. you knew the moment you landed here and ran as fast as you could to him. jake is the one that you want—the one that you’ll always want, and his actions have already proven to you that he feels the exact way.

moving to the side a bit, you told him to open his eyes. you took your lip between your teeth as you watched him read your words in the sand. you let out a small sigh of relief when his whole face lit up and he checked the ‘yes’ box immediately. giggling, you climbed into his lap and smashed your lips onto his.

“oh! we should take a picture!” jake perked up. he pulled his phone from his pocket and aimed it towards the words in the sand. “physical memories and all, right? well, not physical, but you know what i mean.” you laughed as he snapped the picture and one of the two of you for good measure.

as jake walks you home, the air between the two of you buzzes—almost glows with the help of the streetlights. your hand is intertwined in his and the world feels like it’s back in order. it’s electrifying—the way you turn and stare up at him just before you step onto your porch. you open your mouth to speak, but jake already knows what the words will be.

just then, the porch light turns on and you quickly look back at it before looking back at him. with a sheepish smile you tell him goodnight. jake’s heart can’t help but swell as he smiles back and kisses you on your cheek. “goodnight, baby,” he murmurs.

jake watches you walk to your porch and disappear into your house—not letting go of his hand until the distance physically breaks the two of you apart. he begins to walk home, thoughts of you flooding his mind. jake is so fond of you that it almost hurts. he’s so in love with you that it actually does.

he’s looking through the pictures and videos you both took today, a giddy smile on his face as he starts to send them to you like you asked earlier. then a thought crosses his mind. is it his jealousy and slight possessiveness creeping in? maybe. but his fingers are already moving before he can stop them.

jake just hopes that jay still has the same number.

attaching the imagine of you asking him to be your boyfriend and the selfie of the two of you, jake presses send. he waits a second before typing the message, “oops, meant to send this to my girlfriend. my bad!”

jay: read, 10:57 P.M.

jake smirks as he slides his phone back in his pocket. he knew that he was rubbing it in jay’s face, but he honestly couldn’t care less. how dare he try to come between the two of you? jake wouldn’t be surprised if he only started talking to you so he could get one up on him. pitiful, really.

it didn’t matter anymore, because now you were jake’s girlfriend—and you were all that mattered to him.

“you just can’t help yourself, huh?” a voice said behind you.

you were in the middle of wrapping up your shift—cleaning the counter and tidying up for the next person’s shift. turning, confusion written all over your face, you were then face to face with hana. anger coiled her features into a scowl and she looked almost… paranoid? mascara clumped below her lashes and she honestly looked a mess. your brows knitted together at her words. what was she on about now?

“jake is mine,” she said with fevered passion. you just rolled your eyes and continued tidying up, opting to ignore her. that didn’t stop hana. she slammed her hands down on the counter, leaning forward. you raised an eyebrow at her. “first jake, now jay—you just can’t help going after my sloppy seconds, can’t you?” hana continued, almost shouting. she was borderline hysterical and you genuinely started to get worried.

“what? what are you talking about, hana?” you asked, turning fully to her.

your response only seemed to piss hana off even more than she was. red-hot anger boiled behind her eyes and she was attracting the attention of people passing by, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “don’t ‘what’ me. you know exactly what i’m fucking talking about! what do they even see in you?”

you honestly had no words. hana stormed off, giving you one last glare. you stood in place frozen, rag hanging limply from your fingers.

the vibration of your phone knocked you back to your senses and you quickly finished tidying up. you clocked out and on the way home you opened your phone to see what the vibration was.

jake: lunch at your house with your mom today is still on right? you: yup! jake: see you there, pretty.

you pushed open your front door, gaining your mom’s attention. she must’ve walked through the door minutes prior since she was surrounded by grocery bags. you helped her bring them into the kitchen and unload them.

“so… you and that jake boy, huh?” your mother asked you innocently, putting stuff away into the fridge. you were next to her putting stuff into cabinets. “yeah,” you said sheepishly, “we’re back together now.”

she hummed, quiet for a moment. “i know last year the two of you had problems that hindered you from wanting to come back here—problems that i see have been resolved now. i can tell that he does really care about you, honey, so don’t be afraid to jump feet first.” she looked at you from where she stood in front of the fridge, a spacey look in her eyes. you can tell she was thinking about your father.

“thanks, mom,” you smiled at her. she snapped out of her haze, smiling back at you.

“and then—” you were cut off by a moan pushing itself out of your mouth, your back arching slightly off your bed. “and then she was just shouting like a maniac! the whole time i’m trying to figure out what she’s on about while everyone around us is staring.”

another soft moan left your parted lips and your fingers grabbed tightly onto your blankets. your brows drew together as your mind started to get hazy. you were just about to lose tract of what you were saying before the image of hana’s hysterical and angry face popped into your mind. “are you even listening to me?” you asked, flicking the blanket off of you.

jake looked up at you, lips attached to your core and fingers buried deep inside you. he hummed in question and it sent shockwaves throughout you—making your hips buck up into his mouth and your eyes flutter shut briefly. you pouted and jake pulled away from you, pulling his fingers out of you—the wetness coating them—and resting his hand on your inner thigh so your legs stayed apart.

“baby, i do not care about hana,” jake said. you scoffed and looked up at your ceiling, old glow in the dark stars sticking to it. jake chuckled and crawled up your body so you were face to face. “who cares what she said! she’s delusional and crazy—ignore her.”

you sighed and jake laughed more. “now, do you want me to continue or do you wanna rant more?” he asked you. you pouted more at him and he kissed your lips.

there was a knock at your door and you and jake panicked and he ended up falling off your bed and to the ground next to it with a loud thud. “one second!” you called as you pulled your panties back from the side and adjusted your skirt so it wasn’t halfway up your stomach.

turning to jake, you put a finger to your lips, motioning for him to stay silent. you went to your door and opened it up just enough to show your body. “what was that?” your mom asked you.

you furrowed your brows, pretending like it wasn’t jake falling on his ass, before acting like you realized what she was talking about. “oh, that thud? it was my suitcase—i still haven’t fully unpacked yet…” 

your mom tsked at you and handed you a dress. “found one of my old dresses while cleaning out grandma’s closet, i thought you might want it to wear to summer splash.” your eyes widened at you took it from her, a thankful smile forming on your face.

“it’s beautiful, mom,” you spoke as you examined it. she smiled before leaving you to unpack.

you laid the dress on the chair next to your closet before turning to jake. you held out a hand as you waited for your mom’s footsteps to retreat completely before rushing to him and helping him to his feet. the two of you smiled sheepishly at each other.

“i think i should go,” jake said in a low voice. he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck. the tips of his ponytail tickled your cheek. jake pressed a kiss to your neck, making you shiver, before looking back at you. “we can finish this later.”

heat rushed to your face and you nodded, fighting the urge to cover your face from him. jake’s smile turned to a half-smirk. he started to walk towards your door but you pulled him back towards you by his hand, a wild look on your face. “you can’t just go out the front door!” you whisper-yelled.

jake’s brows furrowed. “why not?” he whispered back.

you gave him an incredulous look. “jake, i snuck you in here,” you said before pointing to your window. “you were supposed to leave after lunch… you’re gonna have to use the window.” jake looked at the window and then at you, unmoving.

pulling him to the window, you opened it and the warm summer nighttime air hit you. you turned to jake and motioned to the window. jake raised his brows. he then intertwined your hands and rested his forehead against yours for a moment before kissing you gently.

“i’m going to be coming through your window all of the time now, i hope you realize that,” jake said lowly. you laughed softly at him, “i’ll leave it unlocked for you then.”

jake leaned on your open window, looking down at the grass below before turning to you. “you’re still my date to the summer splash event, right?” you rolled your eyes playfully at him, “duh! of course i am!”

jake smiled and kissed your cheek before stepping over the ledge of the window. he started climbing down before he unceremoniously fell on his ass again. you gasped and shouted in a low, worried voice, “are you okay?!”

jake gave you a pained smile and a thumbs up before getting up and shaking himself off. you watched as the living room light turned on. you and jake froze for a second, his eyes darting up to yours, before he took off—waving at you as he ran down the street.

you held in the urge to laugh as you quietly shut your window again, making sure to leave it unlocked. you were sure you were gonna hear about the “strange noises” tomorrow. you pulled your phone out and texted jake.

you: very smooth. jake: i know, i’m such a pro!

jake attached a blurry picture of him smiling while running that finally got you to laugh.

[ CHANGEOVER — THE SUMMER SUN SETS EARLY ] 𓇼 and a cold wind sweeps up the sea.

jake laughed—the vibrations traveling throughout your body as you laid on his chest—and scrolled to another video on his phone for the two of you to watch together. he had come through your window like he promised and the two of you had spent the night in the same bed. now the both of you were in the bare bones of your pajamas—you in a thin tank top and panties and him just in his boxers—the morning of the summer splash charity event.

after a couple more videos, jake shut his phone off and looked down at you on top of him. “as much as i enjoy you sitting on my cock, we should both probably get ready… today is gonna be a long day.”

you snuggled deeper into his bare chest. the simple feeling of being stuff so full already had your mind cloudy. “but i’m so comfortable!” you mumbled, glancing up at him. jake smirked.

jake’s hands trailed down to your waist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “hm, you’re so comfortable… how comfortable?” he asked, voice low. you sat up fully, a flirty smile crossing your features. you rested your hands on his chest.

“very comfortable.”

“let’s see, then.” jake’s smirk grew as his hands trailed down to your hips, head tilting to the side. his hands squeezed your hip slightly and you were practically already dripping.

you started rolling your hips, using your hands on his chest as leverage. both of your breathing started to get heavier. “like this?” you asked innocently, lifting your hips a little and dropping them again as you rolled them. jake’s eyes rolled back and his head fell back on your headboard.

“yes… exactly like that,” he breathed, voice almost hoarse.

the more you moved, the louder your moans grew and the cloudier your head got. at some point jake had to hold his hand over your mouth to muffle them. “shh, pretty,” he shushed in a husky voice. “i’m sure you don’t want someone to come in here and see us.”

you shook your head as you kept riding him. “f-feels so good, i can’t stop myself.” jake’s response was to kiss you instead, muffling your shared moans with each other’s mouths. he bit down softly on your lower lip and smirked at the way you moaned against his mouth.

the fabric between the two was seemingly too much for jake. before you could even chase his lips, your tank top was off and his lips were on your skin and his hands were exploring the new access to your body. you bit down hard on your bottom lip as his plump lips left love bites all over your skin.

a loud whimper left your mouth when jake adjusted your position so that he could easily fuck up into you. you buried your face in his neck to silence yourself, hoping that the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin didn’t alert any of your family members.

“f-fuck—” jake swore, voice stuttering as he suddenly stilled inside you. warm cum spilled into you and filled you even more. you looked up from jake’s neck through hooded eyes and watched the way his eyes fluttered closed.

jake exhaled heavily, his forehead resting against yours as his cum dripped out of you and down his hard cock. his lips sloppily connected with yours as his hips started fucking up into you again.

your brows harshly drew together as your moan was muffled by jake’s mouth. your nails dug into his shoulders and your body started to shake as each wave of pleasure hit you one by one like a tsunami.

“feels good, baby?” jake whispered near your ear, voice husky. you could barely answer him because if you did you would end up shrieking. all you could do was nod weakly as high-pitched whimpers and whines escaped past your lips.

jake swore again when you tightly clenched down onto him, body shaking like a leaf and nails so deep in his shoulders that you weren’t surprised if you drew blood. suddenly the floodgates opened and you were cumming harder than you ever did before as your body fully collapsed on top of jake.

stars swirled in your eyes as jake helped you through your orgasm, kissing your cheek and shoulder comfortingly as he rubbed circles onto your back. both of you were covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing heavily, the point where the two of you connected sticky with your mixed cum.

once your head wasn’t on cloud nine anymore, you shakily sat up. you gave jake a hazy smile and giggled. jake pulled you closer to him, chuckling, before he kissed you softly. “we might be in trouble,” he said in a low voice, accent heavy. you giggled again, ignoring the way your pussy throbbed from his voice alone.

you pulled away from him, almost fully naked body on full display for him. you both were definitely gonna have to throw away your respective panties and boxers after this. jake looked down at the mess you both created before caressing your waist with his thumb. there was that fondness in his eyes again. “you’re so pretty like this…” he trailed and you hid your face with your hands, heat rushing to your face as you shyly smiled.

jake pulled away your hands. “my pretty girl,” he said affectionately. you lifted your hips and pulled yourself off of his cock, more cum spilling out of you. you leaned back down to kiss him. “we should get ready now,” he said, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips.

you hummed before throwing his famous smirk at him. jake quirked an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth raising. “getting ready can wait another thirty minutes,” you murmured before trailing kisses down his body. jake’s breath hitched and his eyes fluttered shut when your kissed stopped right where the band of his boxers were.

your smirk grew. it was nice to know that you had the same effect on him that he had on you. that you could get him all worked up so easily like he sat in the palm of your hand. it made you feel on top of the world. “we aren’t done yet,” you said, grabbing his cum-covered cock into your hand as you began to stroke slowly.

a whimper left jake’s parted lips as his eyes cracked open. the corners of his mouth were still raised, “i’m gonna make you eat your words.”

it’s safe to say that you and jake were a little late showing up to the summer splash charity event. all around the beach and boardwalk were people participating in various contests and competitions to raise money for the sheltered animals in town. you were in one of your mom’s old dresses—it was so beautiful and formal that you felt a little awkward and restricted despite its flowiness—and jake had on a nice suit that matched your dress. the two of you looked stunning, if you did say so yourself.

at some point jake got pulled away from you by his friends to participate in a competition and you wandered the boardwalk looking at all the competing people. you could see why this was held every year, everyone was buzzing with energy and there were smiles all around.

“hey… y/n?” you turned to see jay coming up to you. you smiled at him.

“oh! hey, jay!” you said, turning to face him. he had a serious expression on his face and your eyes knitted together in worry. “what’s wrong?” you asked him. jay inhaled deeply and a flood of words poured from his mouth.

“listen, i know you may think jake is the one, but he isn’t the saint you think he is.” jay gave you a firm stare. you looked away, sighing to yourself. “jay…” you trailed.

jay cut you off. “i have to say this before it’s too late. i like you, y/n. i really like you. and i’d never put you through all the things he has—lead you on or fill your head with lies and half-truths. if you’d give me the chance, i could show you that we’re a better match.” you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off again. “think about it…”

jay then left you standing dumbfounded and completely confused on the boardwalk.

later that night, there was a venue the coordinators booked where people could dance and mingle with each other over drinks. you and jake were on the dance floor, way past tipsy, but not quite as drunk yet. a slow song started to play and the two of you swayed side to side before jake spun you.

you smiled adoringly up at him and he mirrored your expression. you leaned closer to him and leaned your head against his chest as the two of you continued to sway. “you do know how much i like you,” you said to him, loud enough for it to be heard over the music but low enough that only his ears could hear and a bit slurred. you felt jake chuckle as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“i do,” he replied. “you do know how much i like you, right?” you laughed and pulled away slightly to look up at him. you pressed your lips against his softly.

there was something else hanging in the air between you that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. maybe your head was too misty from the alcohol, but it felt like it was on the tip of both of your tongues. you didn’t linger on it, mind distracted by the sudden need to use the restroom.

pulling away from jake, you told him this and made your way to the restrooms. jake watched you leave, a small smile on his face. his face dropped when he saw a sneering hana follow after you. in a quick second decision he decided to go after the both of you.

when jake caught up to the two of you, it felt like he was walking directly into a car crash. “the year you were gone he was with me!” he heard hana say as she shoved her phone in your face, swiping through various pictures. confusion spread through him. what was she talking about now?

your brows were knitted together as you took the phone from her, looking through all the pictures of her and jake. even with your clouded mind, you didn’t believe hana at first, but ask you kept scrolling you weren’t quite sure anymore. jake’s hair was almost the same length as it was now and when you checked the dates it said it was from a year ago.

“mhm!” hana said, and it felt like she dug her claws into your heart and ripped it out. “as soon as you got on that plane he came to me!” your heart dropped and you turned to jake, hurt written all over your face. you felt absolutely crushed.

“is this true?” you asked him, voice trembling.

after everything he said to you—he went back to her? when he said that nothing happened between them and nothing will ever again… was that all just a lie? did he take you as a fool again? you couldn’t believe this.

“i love you, you know id never go back to her when this whole time i’ve been waiting for you.” jake stepped towards you, still confused about what was happened. all he knew was that he didn’t want to see that hurt look on your face—he couldn’t take it. you quickly took a step back from him and he practically shriveled up and died.

in the background the coordinators were announcing how much money was raised tonight, but you could barely hear them with your heart beating in your ears. “but you went back to her,” you spoke, voice raising.

jake gave you an incredulous look. “you’re telling me you believe what’s coming out of her mouth right now? seriously? whatever she showed you—they’re fake. she probably edited them.”

tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions everywhere from that stupid alcohol you decided to drink. “i don’t know what to believe anymore! it’s always fucking something with you and i’m tired of it!” you exclaimed. you wanted to wrap your arms around yourself and disappear.

jake pleaded with you, “listen to me. listen to what i’m telling you! it’s not true.” he took another step towards you and this time you let him.

seemingly out of thin air, jay appeared next to the three of you, turning his attention to jake. “why don’t you tell her about what happened between the three of us, jake.” he motioned with a finger between him, jake, and hana. your brows drew deeper together as you looked between him. what is jay talking about?

“yeah, jake!” hana chimed it, a sickly sweet smile curling up the corners of her lips. “tell her.”

you looked back at jake and the bewildered look on his face as jay and hana pounced on him. jay then looked at you, “well, if you won’t tell y/n then i will.”

jay stepped closer to you and jake and wrapped an arm around jake’s shoulders. “you wanna know the real reason why jake and i aren’t bestfriends anymore?” jake pushed jay off of him but jay just shook his head, lips twitched up slightly into what looked like a sneer.

“believe it or not, we use to be close—me, jake, sunghoon, the whole damn highschool swim team. until jakey here—” jay poked a finger into jake’s chest “—decided to let it all crash and burn.” jay then turned to you. “now, i’m not the most innocent either. jake and sunghoon’s game they like to play—the whole player lifestyle—i use to be part of it all. we were all shitty, together.”

jay continued. “we would see who could get attached to us the fastest, and once they’d become too clingy… dropped. you see, we weren’t looking for anything serious, just some fun! we had just graduated and weren’t looking to settle down anytime soon. that is… until i was.” he then turned to hana, motioning a weak hand at her. “now i should've known better to fall for someone who was clearly still so obsessed with jake, but i thought it was young love. pathetic.”

hana rolled her eyes at jay before tilting her head at you, “you aren’t as special as you think. before he took your virginity, he took mine. i was you, don’t you see?”

jay snorted, “before he dropped you and barely remembered your name or who you were at all.” hana scoffed at him but jay ignored her. “hana and i started going steady and jake and sunghoon didn’t like that. it was always ‘oh, the two of you aren’t serious! you’ll just drop her like the rest!’ but months past and me not playing the game anymore only angered them more.”

jake finally seemed to snap out of his fog. “you’re such a fucking liar. we weren’t—”

“so they decided to get back at me, a harmless prank,” jay cut him off. “and clearly hana was using me to get back to jake, unbeknownst to me. they all thought it would be so funny if i found jake and hana together, to show me that she ‘wasn’t really worth it.’ and i did find them—only i didn’t find it funny, but to them the plan went off without a hitch so it was a success.”

jay turned from all of you. you could feel the anger radiating off of him as he retold the story and lived through all of the memories. shock grew on your face and you looked at jake with wide eyes.

“cue the big, disastrous fight that split the former swim team in half. lifelong friendships were broken, people were betrayed, and people chose sides. you get the gist.” jay turned back to you all, waving a hand in the air, face steeled.

he looked at you again. “you wanna know the kicker? despite not giving a single fuck about hana—not one—he then dated her after for four months. just to really stick it to me.”

your mind flashed to jake’s letter. about three years ago he said him and hana dated for four months but they “didn’t click,” so he broke up with her. he said that ever since she’s been making his life hell with her obsession with him and her trying to get back together. you felt like you were going to throw up. you hated hana, that much was obvious, but you couldn’t really dismiss the fact that jake took her virginity and then dropped her. it wasn’t an excuse, but it’s no wonder she’s so obsessed with him.

like she said, she was you. he probably made her feel like the only girl in the world for that one night.

“you’re just jealous of what jake and i had,” hana said, crossing her arms over her chest. jay’s gaze darted to her’s and wryly laughed. “sure, hana. you keep telling yourself whatever you need to help you sleep at night. jake never liked you the way you think he did. the only reason he dated you so long was because sunghoon dared him to see how long he could go before going crazy.”

hana blinked a couple times. clearly that information was new to her, too.

“i’m never one to forgive and forget, so now you can see why our friendship has long been dead and buried,” jay concluded. “i told you he’s not the saint you think he is.” jay sounded sorry for you and jake just stared at you with wide, fearful eyes. it was all too much for you to process.

“i need some space. i can’t… it’s over.” cheering exploded around you from everyone else at the party and you stumbled away, pushing through the door until you were hit in the face with fresh air. tears fell from your eyes and distantly you heard voices behind you calling your name.

you felt like no matter how hard you tried, oxygen wouldn’t reach your lungs. you pressed your hand to your stomach, trying to will yourself to breathe. you heard people arguing next to you and you closed your eyes to try and steady yourself as you inhaled sharply, air finally reaching your lungs. you turned to the voices as your ears suddenly heard them clearly.

“you just want everything i have, don’t you? can’t help yourself, huh?” jake shouted at jay.

jay got in his face and shouted back. “like you can’t help but throw the people you ‘care’ about to the side?” jay turned his focus to you. “tell me, y/n, who did he put over you this time? what lie has he told you to keep you crawling back to him?”

jake pushed jay hard. “don’t fucking talk to my girlfriend like that!”

“newsflash, you fucking idiot, she isn’t your fucking girlfriend anymore! you can’t help but ruin everything you touch!” jay yelled at jake. you felt your throat tightening again and you took a step back from them.

tears poured down your cheeks and a loud sob left your parted lips. they froze as their gaze snapped to your broken form. you turn and took off in a random direction that you hoped was towards your house.

you ran until you physically felt like you were gonna burst and gulped in a large breath of air. you heard jake calling after you as you swayed on your feet, vision blurring even more. jake put a hand on your shoulder, “baby…”

you spun in place, shrugging his hand off of you. “explain. explain right fucking now, or i swear we’re done for good. what else have you been keeping from me?” you asked through tears.

in the moonlight you could see the sparkle of tears welling up in jake’s eyes. “i swear there’s nothing else! i-i just didn’t want you to look at me like a monster when i’ve done everything in my power to not be that person anymore,” jake promised. you scoffed and looked away from him.

“i’m not gonna let you slip through my fingers again,” jake said. he sounded desperate but his words fell on deaf ears. “i already am,” you coldly replied.

jake grabbed your hand in his, intertwining them. suddenly you felt his hands all over you—his lips all over you and leaving the marks that were still on your skin, covered. “y/n… please just think this through. i haven’t seen hana at all until that day on the beach with you. i was a horrible person back then, but can’t you see that i’ve changed?”

you pulled your hand away. “i need time to know if i can trust you. we need to spend some time apart,” you replied, completely detached. the tears stopped falling from your eyes but your cheeks were still wet. all you felt was numb. you gave jake one last look before turning and walking away.

you haven’t been processing the past week and a half well—if at all. instead, you’ve been drinking a lot more than you care to admit. there practically hasn’t been a day where you weren’t at least a little bit tipsy. like today, you were just past tipsy and at the point where your mind was fogged over.

all you could think about was how hana said that she was you at one point and how that completely messed with your brain. what if jake was just seeing how long he could spend with you before going crazy like he did with hana? make you feel like the only girl in the world until the two of you “don’t click” anymore? it all terrified you, so you decide to not think about it at all.

you and jungwon were in your living room, lazily lounging on the couch as episodes of H2O: just add water played. you sighed deeply to yourself and jungwon looked over at you in question.

“everything reminds me of him,” you sighed again, watching as the girls raced to cover from the water.

jungwon side-eyed you. “be serious,” he said, eyes focusing on the tv screen again.

you stood from the couch, stumbling a bit. jungwon sat up. “where are you going?” he asked. you grabbed your jacket, there’s been quite the chill in the air lately, and slipped on your shoes at the door. “somewhere where i don’t think of him,” you responded.

opening the door, you stepped out before jungwon could say anything else.

truthfully, you didn’t know where you were going. you decided to wander and let your feet guide you hopefully to somewhere that jake wasn’t. that’s how you ended up a couple feet from jay’s backyard gate.

his words crept into your mind. maybe the two of you were the better match—and you were so, so lonely. at the very least, you just needed someone to comfort you. you knew drinking everyday wasn’t healthy, and jay was your friend. he would help you, right?

suddenly you heard his voice. “y/n?” jay asked and his face appeared in front of you. he looked worried and it took a second to realize that you were crying.

jay ushered you inside and to his room. he sat you on his bed, making sure that you were comfortable as he laid your jacket onto his desk chair. “what happened?” jay asked and all the emotions you tried so hard to keep at bay rushed forward.

it didn’t help that you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on jay’s door. jake’s love bites were just about healed—but you could still see them. it made you cry harder.

jay took you into his arms and you melted into them, crying into his chest. he rubbed comforting circles into your back and held you close until you were able to calm down a little. you looked up at him for a moment, still teary eyed, and softly pressed your lips to his.

you could tell that he was shocked—you were a little too, but he kissed you back nonetheless. the soft kiss between the two of you soon grew heated and you lifted yourself up onto the bed to sit in jay’s lap as his hand came to rest against your cheek. it wasn’t enough, you needed more.

deepening the kiss you grinded against jay’s thigh and he pulled away from your lips slightly, brows drawn together as his eyes remained closed. “y/n…” jay breathed, his voice low. “you're emotions are high right now and i don’t want you to do something that you’ll end up regretting. take a nap, we can talk more when you wake up and you’re sober.”

he pulled away more but you just shook your head. you needed this. “please…” you whispered, looking at him desperately before chasing his lips. whatever internal battle jay had with himself, he clearly lost as he kissed you back with more passion than before.

you grinded against his thigh more, low whines escaping your mouth as you tried to pull him closer. then, you blinked and you were under him. the two of you caught your breath, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. “do you want me to be nice…” jay trailed, breath fanning across the side of your neck, “…or do you want me to be mean?”

change is what you needed, and jake was always so nice when the two of you were intimate. “mean,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. jay smiled before dipping his head to kiss you again, this time rougher.

clothes were discarded and in a flash you were laying naked on jay’s bed. your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer as you grabbed his shoulders for dear life as he pushed into you. your face contorted into one of pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your moan.

jay pushed you back onto the bed so he could get a full view of you and shook his head. “so pathetic and desperate… i want to hear you moan for me.”

he thrusted roughly into you and you moaned loudly. “that’s it,” jay smiled, fucking into you at a fast pace.

your eyes rolled back and all you could do was let the moans and whines and whimpers spill from your open mouth. jay’s pace was so fast that you felt like you were being split in two, his thick length stretching you so good that you saw stars.

he bent down to the shell of your ear, grunting from the effort he was putting in as he held down your hips, “i bet he never made you feel this good.” your back arched off the bed as you started to tremble.

“never was able to have to have you act like a whore in heat for cock, has he?” jay asked. you couldn’t answer him, head too in the clouds to even form a coherent sentence. you felt too good and pleasure spread throughout every inch of your body. it made you forget what you even came here for.

you were flipped so that you were on your hands and knees. your face fell down into the pillow. suddenly, there was pain at your scalp. jay kissed the side of your neck, his hand buried in your hair. “show me how much of a good girl you are. how desperate you are.”

gulping, with shaky legs you fucked yourself on his cock. everytime your head would try to fall, jay would tighten his grip in your hair to keep you upright. the more you fucked yourself onto him, the more your legs shook at the feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. you were sent over the edge when jay pushed your head into the pillows and fucked you himself.

“too m-much!” you cried, tears springing to your eyes. “can’t…”

“awe, you poor slut…” jay cooed mockingly. his condescending words only aided the rope in your stomach further to snapping. “sweet, pretty little whore. be glad your head is in the pillows and i’m not making you ride me like i should be.”

you cried out again, rope completely snapping as you came around jay’s cock. he didn’t stop—of course he didn’t. he was gonna keep going until he got his fill too.

you writhed underneath him as his pace only grew quicker. he pulled you by your hair towards him and back onto his cock as leverage to rut into you quicker. your mixed grunts and moans filled his room and the overstimulation sent you spiraling.

jay twitched inside you and he let go of your hair and grabbed your hips tightly, holding them against his as he came inside you and filled you up more. a loud moan fell from his lips as you fell back into the pillows, your body feeling like complete jelly.

“fuck,” jay groaned. “that’s my little slut.”

pulling out of you, you felt as your mixed cum poured out of you and down the back of your legs in a thick load. jay cursed behind you again before taking two fingers and fucking your sensitive hole with them, groaning at the wet sound it made. you whimpered, trying to angle your hips away from him.

“so pretty… so pathetic.” jay chuckled to himself.

your mind was still hazy from the alcohol as jay pulled you up onto shaking legs to get you all cleaned up in his bathroom. you could barely see with the change of scene and bright lights making everything seem blurry. you didn’t even realize that you were back in his room now and he was helping you put your shirt back on.

it wasn’t until you woke up, who knows how many hours later, next to him in just your shirt and panties confused. your head felt like it was going to explode from the alcohol as you took a look around the room, eyes widening from the unfamiliar surroundings. you were even more confused when a sleeping, half-naked jay was next to you. a horrific expression set on your face.

the sun was just about to set and guilt and regret hit you like a freight train. slowly, you slid out of the bed, making sure that jay didn’t wake up. you hurriedly put the rest of your clothes and jacket on and rushed out of jay’s room as quietly as you could.

all of the memories rushed back to you all at once as you rushed down the path to the boardwalk. what have you done? kissing jay was one thing, but sleeping with him? that was something entirely else. now it was all tangled in your emotions regarding your relationship with jake.

head hung low, you ran all the way back to you house, wishing that you never stepped out in the first place.

you had just gotten off work and were on your way home when a hand grabbed your wrist and spun you around.

“so you slept with him?” jake asked, crossed somewhere between hurt and anger. your eyes widened and that familiar guilt filled you once more. “i-i was drunk, it was a mistake!” you quickly replied.

jake wryly laughed. “a mistake…” he trailed, shaking his head and looking to the ground.

“yes, a mistake!” you exclaimed, pulling your wrist from his grasp. “and i regret ever doing it. you’re acting like you’re the only one who’s allowed to make mistakes!” jake looked at you incredulously. “how did you even find out?” you asked.

you surely didn’t tell anybody, you had no want nor need to flaunt it around. it never should’ve happened at all. that doesn’t mean jake got to look at you like you betrayed him when the two of you aren’t even together anymore.

jake pulled out his phone and shoved the screen in your face. “because he sent me a fucking picture of you sleeping half-naked in his bed with the word ‘checkmate’ attached.”

heart dropping, you took jake’s phone as you looked horrifically at his screen. you weren’t half-naked—you were covered by your rolled up shirt and panties—but it was still way too exposed. you honestly couldn’t believe that jay would take a picture of you after—and send it to jake, no less.

the sudden realization hit you harder than all of the guilt and regret you’ve been feeling. jay used you to get a leg up on jake. how much of him liking you was just him trying to get back at jake through you. a second realization hit—they’ve both been using you to get back at each other in this years-long rivalry. you felt sick.

tears welled up in your eyes and you pushed jake’s phone into his chest to get it away from you. you ran your hands down your face as you tried to breathe. you then glared up at him, “don’t act like you care... you only want me to get a leg up on jay. you don’t actually want me. both of you have been using me to get back at each other. all of this has been meaningless.”

“that’s not true, and you know that’s not true.” jake sighed deeply. “if you want jay—fine. i’ll take a step back and i won’t bother you anymore. but you can’t keep dragging me along and toying with both our feelings because you can’t decide. we can’t do this anymore—i can’t do this anymore, y/n. you know that i’m in love with you, and i know that you love me too deep inside. i’m trying to tell you how you calling this all meaningless really hurts me.”

“you’d know a lot about hurting people,” you murmured. “and ‘dragging you along’? ‘toying with both of your feelings’? i’ve done nothing of the sort.” a single tear fell from your eye and you harshly wiped it away.

“if you can’t accept that it was a mistake sleeping with jay and that i deeply regret it—whatever. but, the only people dragging people along and toying with feelings have been you and jay.” with that you turned on your heels and stormed off.

[ AUTUMN — THE COLD AIR MATCHES YOUR HEART ] 𓇼 and it’s freezing to the bone—yet, there’s a spark.

your mind was everywhere lately, a complete mess. at least you had stopped drinking since sleeping with jay. only, things changed for the worse.

you felt like an echo of who you were when you first arrived in this town. in a couple of weeks you had managed to convince yourself that maybe this was the best you were ever going to get. that maybe letting people use you in such ways was the only way you would ever feel loved. at least, that’s how it seemed—and so far nothing was proving your thoughts wrong.

the relationship between you and jay was complicated. you didn’t even know how to describe it anymore. he went around acting as if you were his girlfriend, even going so far to plant kisses on your cheeks. however, the two of you haven’t even kissed since the day you slept with him.

on your end, he was still just a close friend—though you have been growing more distant from him. you didn’t know if he noticed, and at this point you didn’t care. the only thing you wanted to do these days were get up, go to work, go home, and sleep the rest of the day away.

you were walking home one day after work, completely out of it and not at all listening to what jay was saying to you, when he stopped you. jay sighed to himself, like something had been weighing on his mind. “i can’t,” he said suddenly. all your energy allowed was the quirk of your eyebrow in a silent question.

“this has to stop. clearly you aren’t interested and i like you way too much to have only a half-assed relationship. it’s either one-hundred percent or nothing at all.”

something clicked in your brain and you gave him a pleading look as you shook your head. you didn’t want to lose the only affection you had left. “what are you talking about?” you asked.

“i mean come on, the two of you are made for each other, it's clear as day!” jay drawled. “has anyone told you what he was like when you left? even i was shocked to see him look like a shell of himself. and you act like i can’t see it—even when you’re with me you’re imagining you’re with him…”

tears poured from your eyes as you shook your head more. “no… no, that’s not true!”

deep down you knew it was true. you spent all your waking hours thinking about jake. thought about how royally you both fucked everything up. and to think that you didn’t want drama this summer… all your summer was filled with was drama—and it was creeping into your autumn too.

all you wanted was to be in jake’s arms again, but you didn’t know if that would ever happen. not after how much the two of you hurt each other. maybe it was for the best that you weren’t together if all it was going to cause was pain.

jay nodded at you solemnly. “go. be with him. stop delaying the inevitable when we both know the two of us won’t work out.”

“but-but i like you!” you exclaimed. another lie, but it was your last attempt at the love you so desperately clung to—even if it was false.

“not in the same way you love him, y/n.”

jay gave you a sad smile before he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone as tears slid down your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around yourself as the cold autumn breeze draped over your body and made you shake. you sniffled and kept walking to your house, trying not to cry harder.

later that night you were even more of a mess than you were before. you sat in the dark of your room as you cried even more and even harder, the tears just seemingly never ended.

all you thought about was how you fucked everything up. how nothing will ever probably be the same again. and worst of all—all you wanted was someone who most likely didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

to make matters worse, the subconscious part of your brain was working overtime and you didn’t even register the ringing of the phone pressed to your ear until it was too late. 

“y/n?” jake’s voice asked softly, slightly groggy. shit.

your eyes widened to saucers and you fumbled with the phone in your hands as you tried to quiet your sobs. you finally pressed the ‘end’ button and threw your phone across the room. seconds later you heard your phone buzzing with a missed call and texts from jake. 

“shit…” you trailed, realizing your mistake. all you did these days were make mistakes. “shit, shit, shit!” the tears fell from your eyes faster and you desperately wanted to scream—and you would’ve if it wasn’t so late in the night and your family was asleep.

a few minutes later, you heard the familiar opening of your window. jake stepped over the window ledge, clad in his pajamas and his long hair tousled like he got attacked by wind despite there not being even a breeze outside. shocked filled you as your eyes met his after so long.

you quickly wiped away your tears and turned your back to him. “i-i don’t want to talk to you!” you lied, sniffling hard to stop the sob trying to fight its way out of your body. you hated to admit it, but jake’s mere presence already made you feel immensely better.

the sound of your window closing behind you made you jump slightly. “then don’t talk,” jake said. behind you, the bed dipped. jake pressed his back against yours and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing. “but i’m not leaving you alone right now.”

slowly, jake intertwined his hand with yours. “you can be as angry as you want with me. be as silent as a mouse until you want to talk again… but i’m not leaving your side.” the pad of his thumb rubbed the back of your hand and you broke down completely.

sobs wrecked through your body and you could no longer hide them from him. hot tears ran down your cheeks—more tears than you felt like you’ve ever cried in your entire life. you completely unraveled. you could tell that jake wanted to turn around and comfort you—you felt the turn of his head as he tried to look at you and the twitch of his fingers—but he wanted it to be on your terms. that just made you cry even more.

you’ve cried so much today that you were sick of crying forever.

it was shocking that even for a second you thought differently. jake was the one for you. it was always going to be jake, no matter the up and downs the two of you went through. it was never going to be anybody but him. you burned for him like you didn’t for no other.

finally, you managed to get yourself together enough to speak. half coherent apologies fell from your lips. “i-i’m sorry,” you finally managed. “i’m so sorry. i… i ruined everything and—” jake shushed you and you felt him shake his head.

you continued anyway, “i was acting like… like…” you just couldn’t find the right words.

jake shushed you again, this time turning to face you. you turned too, blistering tears still falling from your eyes. jake shook his head and cupped your wet cheeks with his hands, using the pad of his thumbs to wipe them away. you stared at him again for the first time in so long, still not quite believing that he was in front of you again.

you both seemed to be worse for wear. there were dark circles under jake’s eyes and they were red-rimmed like he had cried recently. still, he looked at you with that certain look in his eyes that he always had, and you were finally able to put a name to it—love.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” jake said softly, but firmly. “nothing at all. if anyone is sorry, it’s me. you don’t know how sorry i am for making you think that i was dragging you along and toying with your feelings. i would never do that to you.”

your brows knitted together. you didn’t understand how he was so forgiving of you. you shook your head, “you deserve better than me.”

jake just chuckled. “i don’t want anybody but you.”

jake rested his forehead against yours before pulling you closer to him. you rested your head against his chest, hearing the soft thumps of his heartbeat, as you wrapped your arms around him. jake held you tightly—like if he let you go you would completely disappear.

slowly, you felt yourself begin to drift, the taxing emotions of the day finally catching up with you. you gripped the back of jake’s pajama shirt, scared that once you fell asleep you would wake up and he would be gone and this was just all one big dream. but the more you tried to say awake, the further your eyelids drooped.

“come here,” jake whispered, moving into a lying position. you cuddled up into his side, your head on his chest. jake rested his chin on your head. “sleep,” he said. “i’m not going anywhere.”

it didn’t take you long to drift into darkness, the sound of jake’s heartbeat aiding you. still, you grabbed onto him like your life depended on it the entire way—even after jake had covered the two of you with your blanket.

in the morning, jake awoke to you still tucked into his side and to the creek of your bedroom door opening. jungwon poked his head inside, a worried look on his face, before nearly jumping ten feet in the air after seeing jake.

jake held a finger to his lips, silently telling jungwon to keep quiet since you were still sleeping. with wide eyes, jungwon nodded. slowly, he shut the door and left the two of you alone.

looking down at you, jake made sure that you were still sleeping and was relieved to find that you still were. the sun peeked through your closed blinds, lighting up your room ever so slightly. jake held you closer to him and softly cradled your face with his hand, careful to not wake you. you stirred, but only to move closer to him, making jake smile.

later, you stirred again. this time jake knew you were waking up since your grip on his shirt suddenly tightened again as you stiffened. jake rubbed circled onto your back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, the actions visibly relaxing you.

your eyes cracked open, adjusted to the change in brightness, and looked up at him before you buried your face back into jake’s chest. jake’s smile grew and you felt the vibrations of his laugh. “good morning, pretty,” jake said.

the cold autumn weather was only getting colder, but that didn’t stop you and jake from going to your spot.

you were giggling as jake wrapped his scarf around you, purposefully covering more of your face than he needed. he then pulled the scarf down to chastely kiss your lips, returning the scarf back to its former position of covering your face. you giggled more, “you gonna get sick!”

“all that matters to me is that my girlfriend doesn’t get sick,” jake replied. 

you pulled him closer to you by his jacket and pressed your lips against his. the two of you moved your lips in sync before you pulled away, serious. there was something that you’ve been meaning to tell him since you’ve got here, and you felt that now was finally the time.

almost nervously, you said, “i love you, jake.”

jake stared at you for a second with wide eyes, like he thought he didn’t quite hear you clearly. when you smiled nervously at him is when it finally clicked for him. jake’s whole face lit up and he kissed you so passionately that the two of you almost fell over. “i love you,” he said before kissing you again.

you pulled away for air, giggling at his reaction. he started kissing you all over your face and you pushed him away, laughing more. “jake!” you exclaimed. he pressed a couple more kisses to your cheeks before kissing your lips again. “what?” he asked innocently, “i was just warming you up.”

you rolled your eyes and stood to your feet. you pulled him to his feet as well and the two of you dusted off sand from your clothes. “well, we should probably move away from the sea,” you smiled at him. your face then lit up.

there was still one more thing on your shared bucket list that you and jake still didn’t do. you completely forgot about the bucket list in general with everything that happened. “the abandoned skate park!” you exclaimed. “we still haven’t added our names to it!”

jake intertwined your gloved hand with his. he looked at you with eyes full of love. “let’s go then!” he smiled at you, kissing your cold cheeks. you scrunched your nose at him before dragging him out of your spot and towards the skate park.

on the way there, the two of you bought a disposable camera and a can of spray paint in your favorite color—at jake’s adamance. the two of you seeked out a good place to add your names for a while before finally finding the perfect spot.

“okay, go!” jake said, aiming his phone towards you. you turned and sprayed “y/n + jake = forever” into the spot the two of you had picked out before running back to where jake stood. the two of you switched—you taking the phone to record and him the spray can. jake then ran over and sprayed a wonky heart around your names, causing you to laugh.

jake looked back at you and laughed. “i told you you should’ve done the heart!”

you came up to him and he wrapped his arms around you as you got the two of you and your names in the camera view—kissing him briefly with an adoring smile—before ending the recording all together. jake then pulled the disposable camera out of his jacket pocket and snapped a picture of it and then of the two of you next to it. “to more memories!” he said.

after, jake turned to you. “do you remember what happened here?” he asked you. you nodded, “of course i do! this is where we had our first kiss!” jake smiled at you, kissing you like he did so long ago again, completely setting you alight and making your heart race even after all of this time.

“say it again,” jake said, his forehead against yours. you smiled. “i love you,” you replied.

you could practically feel the smile on jake’s face grow larger. “again,” he said. you giggled at him and the way he pulled you closer to his chest. “i love you, jake.”

“i love you, too.” jake kissed you again. 

you felt as if your world was back on track now, no longer was the axis all out of place. you were here in jake’s arms where you belonged, his lips against yours as the two of you giggled at each other. you would never love anyone like you love jake. “i love you more,” you finally replied to him.

jake shook his head at you. “impossible,” he laughed. “nobody can love anyone as much as i love you.”

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[darknight3904]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘝𝘰𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘨. 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.4 𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Wade Wilson was never one to believe in fate. Why should he? He was immortal after all. But, here he stood, in The Void watching two variants stare at each other like they'd seen a ghost.

"Oh. My. God." He spins to face his new yellow-clad friend.

Logan glances over at him, a heavy scowl on his face.

"Careful, Peanut, you'll get wrinkles." Wade snorts, "It's her, the one I told you about...or well a variant of Mr. Deceased Anchor Being's lover."

Wade turns away from Logan, looking at the woman who seems to be working out how to murder his yellow-clad friend. Said friend looked like he was going to combust or faint, Wade wasn't quite sure.

"Can I just say, you totally kicked ass on that farm. Too bad that writer of yours killed ya off. How bland, dying at the end!"

"You're an annoying prick, you know that? The woman scowls at him

"Ha! Twin scowls, you and Wolvie are a match made in heaven!" Wade grins under his mask

"Not interested," Logan says almost too quickly before stalking off to the pile of alcohol in the corner.

The blood manipulator lets out a scoff, "Like you'd even be given a chance."

"Oooo hostile. I smell a spin-off. Maybe it'll even be longer than three chapters this time...maybe not! All I know is that it'll be chock-full of tension, romance, and a sprinkle of some good old-fashioned fucking."

"Shut the fuc-"

Eight months had passed. Eight months of being free of The Void. Eight months since an annoying red prick, with his equally aggravating friend, came into your life.

"Morning, Pumpkin." Wade greets you, with a nonconsensual "boop" to the nose.

"Don't touch me." You grumble, reaching for the fresh pot of coffee.

You add milk and sugar andtake a slow sip, savoring the flavor. Despite his mouth, Wade picked fantastic coffee flavors whenever he went grocery shopping.

"Caffeine, the way to a woman's heart." Wade sighs, sipping at his own mug.

"Don't you have cars to sell?" You ask, glancing at the clock which read half past nine

"It's Saturday, my day off." Wade grins, "Home all day, baby!"

"Fantastic," Logan mumbles, entering the kitchen.

"Morning, Wolverine." Wade greets the hunk of muscle

No reply leaves his lips as he nudges you aside, desperate for coffee as well.

"Ever hear of excuse me?" You snap, stepping a few paces to your right, nearly colliding with Wade.

"No," Logan says, sipping at his disgusting black coffee.

"And another great day starts. How many arguments today? I'm betting on at least ten." Wade predicts looking between the two of you.

"Twenty," Logan says

"I'm not giving you that much of my time, Logan."

His name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. God, even his face pissed you off.

"Don't stare too much, bub. You'll give me the wrong idea."

You want to throttle him. And no, not in the sexy way.

A cool fall breeze waves through your hair as you push the window in your room open. Laura was the perfect roommate and even lit an apple-scented candle before heading out for whatever she had planned for the day.

Not even the sounds of Wade and Logan arguing would ruin your morning as you snatch little Mary from her spot on Wade's bed. Depositing the ugly (affectionate) dog onto your own bed, you lounge next to her, a book balanced on your lap while one hand pets her little head.

"Mary, can you believe that Daenerys is bald in the book? Can't believe HBO left that out."

The little dog next to you lets out a snort, followed by a sneeze, followed by a huge glob of snot.

You groan in disgust and rush to the bathroom, needing to wash the dog snot off. You loved her, but sometimes that dog was disgusting.

"Hey! I'm shaving!" Logan huffs when you push him out of the way to access the sink

"I'm covered in dog snot." You explain, leaning over to wash your hands

"Shit. Knicked myself."

You look up at Logan who now has a small stream of blood running down his neck to his shirt collar.

"You're fine."

Sure enough, it closes up a second later and Logan grumbles a curse at you.

"Don't get your panties in a twist." You pat his shoulder, undeterred at the growl that leaves his throat.

"You stained my shirt." He says

"Uh, that was your blood, not mine." You scoff trying to leave the bathroom when he steps in front of you.

"Wouldn't have happened if you didn't shove your fatass in here to wash your damn hands." Logan glares

"You think it's fat? Thanks, I've been doing squats before bed."

You should've expected it really, yet somehow you're always caught off guard as his hands grasp your shirt, lifting you up and tossing you out of the bathroom and into the living room. The coffee table meets its end when you slam into it.

"What. The. Fuck." You groan, standing up and shaking wood chips from your clothes, one of them even pierced your arm, warm blood staining your shirt, "This was my favorite shirt."

You could just tell the blood to leave the fabric, it would be easier like that. But, this wasn't about ease, it was about principle. And the man in front of you? His principles were totally fucked up.

"Now we're even." Logan smugly says

"Okay, guys let's take five deep breaths And just reel it-"

"Shut the fuck up, Wade."

"Right, sorry. We can have our fight later, Peanut. I'm saving a special new knife for you."

Logan is distracted by Wade's babbling and caught off guard when you use your powers to pin him to the wall.

"Did you know your blood, moves faster than other people's?" You ask, tightening your hold on him when he struggles, "Makes it a bit harder to control, but I can make it work. After all, it's certainly fun to see you pinned down like this."

"Go ahead, bitch. Blow me up, pop my head off. It'll all grow back anyway." Logan snarls

"No one's popping anything. This is a new rug!" Al shouts from her spot in her recliner

You think about it, you really do. Blowing his leg off, or an arm, you'd done it only once before after he got too drunk and puked into one of your shoes just a month after escaping The Void.

"I have work." You mumble, letting him slide down the wall. You lean down to his level as he sits with his back to the wall, "Call me a bitch again and I'll rip your dick off and shove it up your nose."

"I'd love to see that. Have a good day at work, Pumpkin!" Wade calls as you disappear back into your room to get changed, ignoring Logan's disgruntled look.

Thedore's Books is one of the few places you actually like in this universe. You'd stopped in just a month after Wade pulled you from the void, planning to just buy a book to keep yourself busy. Your now coworker, Matt had convinced you to fill a job application out. Two weeks later, you were standing behind the counter, ringing books up.

"You know, you claim to suck at customer service, yet people leave Google reviews raving about you." Matt sighs looking at the computer screen, displaying another positive review

"I do suck. Some people are just too dumb to realize it." You say, fixing the display of this month's bestseller.

"Well, I wish I had this many five stars for service. The last good review I had was last month from that old guy." Matt groans

"Was he the one that smelled like sardines?"

"That, and he had a total hard-on the entire time I was telling him about the buy one get one sale."

"Gross." Your nose wrinkles in disgust

"Right? If you're gonna be a perv at least be a hot one." Matt says

You roll your eyes, "You are a desperate whore."

"Me? You're the one who raves about that roommate of yours? The big manly one who came in with that burn victim a few weeks ago."

You spin around in horror at the idea of "raving" about Logan.

"I don't rave about him!" You declare, "He pisses me off and I need someone to vent to!"

"Oh please. If he wasn't all over you, I would've hit on him the moment he walked in that door. His arms were bigger than my head." Matt sighs dreamily

"Logan isn't all over me." You shake your head, "And you're welcome to go for it. I'm pretty sure his sexuality is on the spectrum. Wade claims that he caught him watching gay porn like last week."

"Is Wade the cancer burn man or the old lady?" Matt asks

"Cancer man." You answer, cursing when your hand bumps a stack of books, sending them to the floor.

"Whatever. All I know is last time Mr. Muscles was in here, He was staring at your ass when you went to pick up a box to restock a shelf.

"You're delusional."

That evening you return to a peaceful apartment. Or well, semi-peaceful, no one was bleeding or missing a limb at least. Instead, an intense Mario Kart competition was taking place, to your amusement, Laura was beating both men who were cursing her out.

"A red shell?! Are you fucking with me?!" Wade screeches as Logan's character speeds past him.

"Pizza bites?" Al asks when you greet her.

You accept the luke warm food and plop down on the couch next to Laura.

"Nice." You compliment her as she crosses the finish line in first place.

"Don't compliment her, she's a cheater." Wade groans as he finishes in third place, "She blue-shelled me and stole my thunder. Then, P.T. Barnum here hit me with a red shell just now! Where is the honesty in this home?"

"Wade, that's just how the game is played," Laura says looking at him.

"Zip it, Jecki Lon, don't you have to be a Padawan in like half an hour?"

"There's something wrong with you." Laura shakes her head in dismay

"You're right. There is." Wade grins, "Now, I have an appointment with the mound of devil's dandruff in my room. You comin' Althea?"

Al gets up and moves faster than you've ever seen her move, following Wade down the hall, the promise of cocaine seems to have cured her old age.

"Wanna have a rematch, kid?" Logan asks Laura, ignoring you.

Laura turns to you, handing you Wade's controller, "Wanna play?"

"I'd never pass down a chance to beat this fool at anything." You grin, ignoring how Logan flips you off from the other side of the couch. Poor Laura, sandwiched between the two of you on this shitty Ikea couch.

Laura slowly stood up and collected the joy cons from the coffee table. Two hours of Mario Kart, many arguments, and an episode of The Office later, you and Logan were finally asleep. She turned around to stare down at the two of you, still sitting up but facing each other, asleep on the couch like the old people you were.

Nearly a year ago you had shown up in the void. Seeing one dead parental figure was a shocker but when Logan showed up with Wade, Laura thought she was seeing things. You had never mentioned your version of Logan and she had always assumed you just didn't have one. But, the instant hostility and the past eight months had her thinking otherwise. She had asked this new Logan if he had you in his universe. He of course brushed her off and told her to drop the subject.

Laura looked between the two of you wondering what each of your pasts were. She wondered if there was any possibility of getting back what she had lost so many years ago.

The sound of whimpering wakes you up the next morning. A sharp pain in your neck is the first thing you register as you open your eyes, the next thing is Logan's face a mere six inches from yours. He looks peaceful while he's asleep. Soft snores leave his nose and the pinch of annoyance that's normally in his brow is gone. You can't help but admire him, sure he was a pain in the ass but he was good looking at least. Fuck, he's got long eyelashes, why did men always have better eyelashes? It made you so jealous.

Logan's eyes flutter open and big brown eyes meet your own. For just a moment he stays still, keeping your gaze, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Another whimper fills your ears and the trance is broken. You and Logan jump off the couch, putting ample distance from each other. You turn to your right to see Mary sitting at the door, gently scratching at it.

"I knew Wade wouldn't be able to take care of a dog." You sigh, "Hold on sweetie, I'll take you out, let me run to the bathroom first."

You slip into your shoes and clip the leash to the little dog, trying to ignore the fact that Logan is pissing with the door open and you can hear his fucking urine.

"Wait," Logan calls as you open the door

You turn and look at him in confusion as he pulls a flannel over that stupid tank top he wears too often.

"Wanna go grab coffee with me?" He asks

"Thought you hated me." You say

"Last night, before you got back, Laura asked me to try to uh be civil with you. Said she asked you to do the same." He murmurs

"I thought she was joking." You deadpan

Logan looks at you like you're stupid.

"Don't give me that confused kitten look." You sigh

"Fine, fuck off then" Logan grumbles

You watch as he begins to take his flannel back of probably ready to go back to bed. You glance down at Mary who looks ready to piss all over the floor, her little face wins you over,

"Fine, fine. You win, let's get coffee."

Sure enough, Mary is filled to the brim with pee and barely makes it down the many steps of the building. You stand there in the grass waiting for her to be done, Logan right next to you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"That dog's like, 12 pounds, how is she still peeing?" Logan asks staring down at her

"Wade must've forgotten to let her out before going to bed last night." You sigh

"Yeah, all that cocaine must've rotted his brain," Logan says

"If there was anything left up there to rot. Did you know the other day he asked me if there were birds in Canada?"

A smile works its way across Logan's face and he shakes his head.

"I told him to fuck off and then he told me movie star Ryan Reynolds would know." You sigh

Surprisingly, Logan actually lets out a laugh at that. It must be shocking because even Mary looks up at him, finally done with her peeing episode.

"Who even is that?" He asks

"Does it really matter? Wade's full of shit anyway."

Logan agrees and then falls into step with you, slowly walking on the outside of the sidewalk. He watches you carefully as you compliment the dog who has picked up a stick half the size of her body. In his world, you had always loved cats more than dogs. He wondered if this version of you even liked cats, you were always cooing at Wade's dog like it was your damn kid.

"So where are we getting coffee?" You ask

"What?" He asks dumbly

"You asked so I figured you had a place picked." You sigh, clearly annoyed

Logan racks his brain for a good coffee joint. The best he can come up with is the diner Wade showed him once that sold it for 99 cents a cup. What was he thinking asking you out for coffee without a plan?

"What about here?" He asks, stopping in front of a Starbucks.

"Seriously? You roll your eyes, "We're in New York, there are a million local joints and you choose a shitty chain?"

"Sorry, I don't have elite coffee taste." Logan growls, suddenly pissed off, at least he wouldn't go back to Laura without trying to get along with you. It wasn't his fault this version of you was so damn annoying.

You sigh and glance down at Mary who looks up at him. Why does he feel like he's being judged by not one but two women right now?

"How about...we go to Duke's? They've got awesome lattes and even give out dog treats." You suggest

Logan doesn't give a shit where he gets his morning coffee. The machine back at the apartment would've been his first choice but whatever Duke's was would be good too.

He can't help it, really. He doesn't want to come off as weird yet he finds him watching you out of the corner of his eye. You're so fascinating to him, even when you piss him off like you did yesterday.

Sometimes he feels sad about it all, his own universe, how he failed you. Yet, now here he was, savior of a universe and standing next to you again. The immediate hostility between the two of you, he couldn't place where that was coming from in himself. Sure, he had no idea what your version of Logan had done, yet he couldn't find a reason for his anger. Perhaps it was just that you were aggravating. The idea of you, or well a different version of you, was a bit mind-boggling to him.

He stands next to you in line and even lets you order for him. He insists on paying however can't help but regret it when he hears the total. Where does this place get off on charging these prices?

"I would've paid." You say as the two of you sip your drinks on the way back to the apartment.

"I asked you to come out with me. I was planning on paying anyway." He brushes it off

He can hardly believe it. You've been with him for nearly an hour and the two of you have yet to really get into a real argument.

"I've gotta admit this wasn't that bad." You say, he swears he hears a hint of happiness in your voice.

"See? Guess I'm not a total asshole." Logan finds himself saying

What was he doing? Surely he wasn't flirting with you?

You let out a small hum, "We'll leave that one up to interpretation."

Logan glances down at the dog that walks along happily at your heels. He swears it's mocking him, just the way it's owner would.

The droplets of rain that hit his shoulders have him looking up quickly.

"We'll be fine, the weather said no rain today." You assure

You're wrong, very wrong. Less than twenty seconds later, the sky opens up and he's drenched. He curses you out and you match his energy, telling him he's a total shithead. He reaches down and scoops the dog up, slightly cringing at the feel of her wet skin on his.

"Let's go." He grumbles above the storm.

"Well, well, look at you two," Wade comments as you enter the apartment.

"Eat shit, Wade." You grumble

Logan sets the dog back on the ground and Wade immediately starts talking to her in that baby voice.

"Can't believe you said there wasn't going to be any rain." He says

He means it as a joke, a gentle tease to ease some of the past 8 months of tension.

"Fuck off, we wouldn't have even been out there if you hadn't asked me to go out with you." You simmer

"You asked her out?! Peanut you should have told me."

Logan shoots the other man a glare that has him shutting up.

"Yeah well, we wouldn't have gotten caught in the rain if we didn't have to walk thirty minutes to your stupid coffee place." He finds himself saying.

What's he doing? He enjoyed the walk for crying out loud. But here you were annoying him again

"Oh please, you asked to go to get coffee and then didn't even have a place picked! Sorry, I had to pick up your slack."

You reach out and point an accusatory finger, tapping it harshly into his chest.

"Fuck off. I'll never ask again then." Logan declares, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Good." You say before stomping off to your room like some kid.

Logan groans and slumps into the recliner, ignoring Wade's comment about his clothes still being soaked through. You were insane, jumping to conclusions, and don't even get him started on the severe lack of humor towards him. It's like you were the bitchiest version of you the universe could've offered to him. What the fuck was he going to do?

Part Two

Woah, talk about a gear shift. A new Logan to write for, and a new version of Reader (an angry one, we'll get to that later *winks*)

If anyone is here from Promise, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope you also enjoy this series as well.

Quick housekeeping notes:

For purposes of this fic, Laura is the same one from Promise. She has lost both Reader and Logan (old man one).

This story will have a different tone than the last one due to this Logan being a different guy than Old Man Logan.

Blind Al has a three-bedroom apartment in this because I said so and I'm the boss. Logan rooms with Wade, Reader with Laura, and our queen, Al gets a whole room to herself.

This story will have a separate tag list from the one I used for Promise.

Please comment below to join it.

Tags:

@kellyxo1

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[heegyukeluv]

your eyes only (lhs) - req

pairing: heeseung x afab & musical actress!reader

synopsis: You were used to having all eyes on you; after all, as a renowned musical actress, capturing everyone's attention was part of your job. But the moment you noticed a pair of eyes in the audience gazing at you with such passion, you knew things would change.

my's note: first and foremost A✨!!!!! YOUR VISION!!!!!! please i’m so happy you gifted me with the pleasure of developing this super cute and loving story. i really had so much fun writing it, and i hope you like it too!! also during the smut scene i got a bit carried away by these pics and maybe i’ve dedicated too much time talking about heeseung’s arms 😀 not sorry btw

warnings: fluff, small angsty (but with a happy ending!!!), explicit language, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex 💪🏻, fingering, kinda rough sex? (this is the roughest i think i can do, unironically lol). lmk if I missed something!

request: reader is a musical actor/actress who takes many roles in musicals, plays, some movies and so and so forth. heeseung goes to one of the reader's musicals and is enamored by their voice and talent, and of course, their looks. (read the full request here!)

wc: 19k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

Heeseung rushed his way out of his car, jogging through the people in the middle of his route to get to the theater as soon as he could, already knowing Sunoo was so pissed off with his lateness.

He spotted the blonde haired furiously typing on his phone with a scowl expression, alone, waiting for him.

“Don’t even start with your lame excuses,” Sunoo stopped Heeseung before he said anything when he finally got to the younger’s side, glaring up from his phone and already hurrying his steps towards the theater entrance. 

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung tried his best to sound apologetic, softening his gaze, opting for not making up any justification.

It wasn’t like he purposely got stuck in the traffic at all, however, he definitely was guilty about leaving the house twenty minutes later than he promised, just because he decided to finish up his League game. 

It was Saturday, of course he would choose to spend some screen time doing his favorite hobby. 

“I know you don’t like musicals, or almost anything related, but you kinda gave me your word, so…” 

They both walked side by side, stopping quickly to show their tickets to the worker who let them in after verifying it in the system. 

“I know, I know. And I’m really sorry.”

The lights were already off as the show was about to start, making them struggle a bit to find their seats; close to the edge and not too far from the stage.

“You won’t regret coming, Hee.” Sunoo smiled sweetly, already at ease with his behavior, picking up his phone to take a picture of the glowing set, just waiting for the right moment to start. He wasn’t really pissed with Heeseung, he knew the older one was actually doing him a favor. “I saw some pictures on instagram and it’s so pretty.”

Although Sunoo wasn’t lying about him, he was actually excited with the idea of watching something so different from his natural liking, and the bright, enthusiastic face Sunoo showed made his expectations grow even higher. 

Heeseung diverted his eyes to the theater main floor when the instrumental started sounding through the speakers, indicating the play was about to start, a shiver of excitement running all the way through his spine while he straightened his back on the chair.

The story was being told from the main character’s perspective, as expected. But what really got Heeseung tilting his head to the side and his eyes glistening in interest was the incredible beauty of the actress.

She had expressions on point, as if she was born to be there, happily wandering through the whole stage with bright smiles, looking at the crowd once and a while and acting with pure talent. She shone in between the other actors, drawing attention easily towards her. Of course she had the main character aura that helped it a lot, however, at some point Heeseung was sure that he, himself, had an extra spotlight on her, eyes never leaving her meticulously calculated movements and attractive face.

The way she showed raw emotions from the beginning got Heeseung laughing, worried and relieved – a rollercoaster of emotions he never thought he would go through just by watching a Tangled musical.

He also caught himself wishing for the actress to drift her eyes through the crowd just once more, so she would feel his intense gaze and look at his way, in a very utopic, hopeless, line of thought.

When the said Aurora got the chance to finally sing, Heeseung just let himself completely fall in love, unconsciously sighing as his heart faltered a beat every once. He didn’t expect her to have such a loving, enchanting, singing voice, making his body ache in despair to have more of it.

The final act got him all smiling, clapping his hands with genuine enthusiasm as the actors bowed to the crowd thanking them for watching. When the curtains dramatically closed, Heeseung inclined his head a bit to the center so he could watch you going away, leaving him with a taste for more.

He thought about trying to go to the backstage, especially when he saw a few people lining up apparently to get a photo with the cast, but Sunoo was already walking his way out of the theater and he deduced it had some kind of special ticket to get that.

“Who is Aurora?” Heeseung eagerly asked Sunoo when they stepped out of the theater, walking through the parking lot. He had literal crossed fingers hidden inside his jacket pockets, in hopes of Sunoo knowing about the actress.

Sunoo playfully raised an eyebrow. “I know you don’t like musicals, but not to know who Aurora is, is kinda–”

“No, I meant the actress,” Heeseung hurried to correct himself, blaming the fact he was still in awe. “Do you know her name?”

“Oh,” Sunoo replied by taking his phone out of his pocket and opening his instagram, showing the screen to Heeseung. “It’s Y/N. She’s one of the most famous actresses for musicals like that. I love her acts, like all of them,” he replied with a big smile, gesturing with his hands. 

Heeseung quickly got his phone to follow you after getting your username, not even caring about thanking Sunoo as he slid through your cute feed, shamelessly liking some of them. It wasn’t like you would notice him, as you had thousands of followers and a very busy routine, as it looked like.

And oh, you were so, so beautiful.

“So, how do you like it?” Sunoo asked with a small smirk when they stopped by Heeseung’s car, not failing to notice how the older one got really invested, although he wasn’t much sure if the fixation was about the musical itself or you.

“Honestly?” Heeseung locked his phone and opened his car. “I loved it more than I expected,” he answered with a genuine smile, a smile that did nothing to hide his real interest.

“It’s a pity this is the last one,” Sunoo said with a small pout when he entered the car, sitting on the passenger seat.

“W–What do you mean the last one?” Heeseung halted all his movements to fully face Sunoo with a slightly bewildered expression, who offered him confused eyes and a small frown.

“It’s the last Tangled musical they're gonna do,” he explained. “Y’know, they don’t do the same musicals over and over again. Especially with Y/N. She’s constantly casted for new ones,” Sunoo added, watching Heeseung’s face softening in relief before he started to drive. 

“You seem to know a lot about her,” Heeseung said with curiosity, eyeing Sunoo quickly before paying attention back to the road, the street lights passing by working as a beautiful background.

“Yeah, I really love her work.” He said with a dreamy tone, and Heeseung nodded, since now he was kind of loving your work too. “It’s a shame we don’t get to have more from her here in the town.”

“Hm?” Heeseung's head snapped to face Sunoo, and gladly he had stopped at the red light in time. 

“Musicals work almost like a band tour. They go through the whole country, stopping by cities for one or two weeks, it depends on the demand. This one had a three week engagement here!” He said excitedly, Heeseung paying attention to every detail. His heart sank inside his chest with the now acknowledgement of how your job worked, and the fact that he definitely wasn’t going to see you soon. “But college got me stuck, so I didn’t have the time to come and watch it. That’s why today was so special, as I texted you. It was the last one.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Heeseung said with a tender, genuine smile.

Heeseung’s car stopped by Sunoo’s place, and with a quick goodbye he left, leaving behind a completely silent Heeseung, lost in his own thoughts. How would he feed his newest obsession?

When Heeseung finally got back into his apartment, he cared little about changing his clothes into something more comfortable, sprawling on the couch while stalking your social media for a bit.

He watched your newly posted instagram stories, most of them being reposts of videos and photos from the audience that tagged you into it, saying how proud of you they were, how much they liked and how pretty you looked. 

Heeseung remembered Sunoo taking a picture of the set before the play started, and quickly asked him for it so he could post it on his story as well, using the lame excuse that he wanted to show his followers his most new-found interest.

Of course Sunoo didn’t really bought it, but sent it anyway. 

Heeseung had never felt nervous about posting something on his instagram, especially on his story, a place where pictures and videos only lasted 24 hours. Nevertheless, in the past you weren’t in the equation, you weren’t the main target, you didn’t even existed to him. So he double-checked the small text and if the picture looked good enough to stand out in between the probably hundred others you got tagged into, pressing the “send” button.

“First time watching it. I loved it so much. You really know how to catch people's attention @y/n ;)”.

As the picture loaded, Heeseung instantly wondered if it was too much, with widened eyes and heart pacing fast, panicking a bit as he paid close attention to how some of his friends liked and replied to it almost immediately, but nothing came from you.

He waited for a few minutes for your possible repost, since you were online just seconds ago, scrolling through his timeline, a chill feeling overgrowing in his chest every time the small red ball of notification painted the top of his phone. Then he let out a defeated sigh as the reality settled in – meeting you was unlikely, and the chances of someone as famous as you noticing an ordinary guy like him seemed impossible.

That night he hopelessly hoped to dream about you and your voice, so he could experience more of your distant, idol-like presence. He was so intrigued about you. Your beautiful features, your perfect acting, your incredible voice, everything extremely fascinating for his poor, weak heart.

Unfortunately Heeseung did not dreamt about you, but he woke up with his phone buzzing under his pillow. 

With eyes squinting, Heeseung tried to understand why he got followed by a bunch of random people on instagram from last night. There were also a lot of texts from Sunoo in caps lock that his mind skipped reading and his everyday notifications that he always ignored. And then his attention was caught with your name.

He expected you to repost as you were doing for the majority of your fans, but you didn’t only reposted. You replied to him, directly.

“Thank you, sweetheart! Hope to see you more, then <3”

“It’s just a message. She probably sends it to everyone. She seems reachable through her social media.”

Heeseung was trying to convince Sunoo – and himself – that your reply meant nothing but a simple, standard gesture from an artist thanking their fans. After all, he was a grown man who understood how the industry worked, how they encouraged fanservices as a way of attracting more people from the outside and maintaining the ones who already considered themselves as fans. 

Albeit his heart danced a different melody than his mind, doing flips just by remembering your sweet words.

“I don’t think so,” Sunoo retorted with a small grimace as he finished cleaning the corner of the cafeteria’s main counter. “The usual?” He asked Heeseung before getting ready to make his drink.

“Yeah, I’m running late for work,” Heeseung replied, glancing at his phone just to confirm that he probably would be ten minutes late to that morning’s meeting. 

“But I think you should shoot your shot, y’know,” Sunoo said with a grin while mixing all the ingredients. “Slide into her DM’s or something.”

Heeseung couldn’t hold back a small chuckle, leaning his upper body on the counter. “Is that how young people flirt nowadays?” 

Sunoo threw an offended glare at him. “Don’t act like you’re an oldie. You’re literally only 2 years older than me,” Heeseung laughed loudly at his reaction, shaking his head.

“I won’t do any of that, Sunoo,” he said softly and straightened his posture. “I’d rather just follow her work from afar. Me being in the audience and her, on the stage. That’s the closest I can get from her,” he now spoke more firmly, as if he tried to ground Sunoo’s expectative – and his own – down to reality. 

He spent his whole Sunday watching filmed performances from some of your old plays, unable to get enough of your angelic voice, your palpable talent, and of course, your gorgeous, captivating outstanding looks. The knowledge that your job made you be constant for a year or less, and then you were away for months, preparing for the next musical, shattered his hope and made him accept that he would have to wait for you to return.

“Well, you do you. But in my personal opinion, you’re missing a big opportunity,” Sunoo handed Heeseung’s coffee, waiting for the charge and the usual tip.

Once again, Heeseung shook his head, smiling and paying for his drink. “Thank you, have a great day Sunoo.”

“You too, Hee.”

Heeseung wouldn’t admit that easily, but he gathered some of his favorite performances from you in a youtube playlist, so he could listen to it while driving through the city, the way to his work sounding prettier with your beautiful voice echoing in his ears. 

As he parked his car, rushing to his meeting, he didn’t felt the large amount of stress he normally dealt with during Mondays, your melodic singing still fresh on his mind, easing the way he handled things through the day. 

The following weeks passed fast with his daily routine; you, still filling up his head in an addicting mix of your sweet vocals and his eagerness of witnessing you owning the stage again.

Heeseung craved the electrifying rush of his heart racing with wonder after you captivated his soul he once felt when first watched you perform, as if he was in abstinence. 

He monitored your social media for almost two months, hoping to see an announcement of your next musical or anything similar enough to give him a chance to listen and see you live, feeling extra hyped whenever he saw a picture of your practice, or other things related to your upcoming project.

He never got so invested in something or someone the way he was in you, especially after just so little time tasting from the source.

During a random Tuesday, fauxing listening to Jake’s rant about his new love interest and how confused he was feeling, he caught himself traveling through his own head, wondering what triggered this obsessive behavior.

Was it how dreamy you looked and sounded?

Was it the fact that he had to wait to get more from you?

Or maybe was the fact you were unreachable, acting like a bait to his delusional romantic heart?

Did he really fell in love with a famous person?

How bad was that? 

“And you're ignoring me again.”

Heeseung blinked a few times to regain his consciousness back to reality, the one where Jake was shooting him an annoyed look and his food was getting cold; the thoughts about you and his respective questions evaporating from his mind quickly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit distracted today,” Heeseung slurped his, now, cold ramen, avoiding Jake’s judgmental eyes and grabbing his phone to see the notification that got it buzzing on the table.

“Oh, you tell me.” He rolled his eyes, before giving a quick head nod at Heeseung’s direction. “What’s going on?”

“Uh, nothing. You can continue your–” Heeseung was about to change the subject back to whatever Jake was talking, not wanting to admit that the reason he got so zoned out was you, although Jake was pretty much aware of this part of his friend’s life; Heeseung being a mess and failing completely in the art of downplaying. But then he saw Sunoo’s message. “Oh shit.” 

“What?” Jake asked with concern, observing Heeseung’s expression morphing from a shocking one with widened eyes and mouth slightly agape, to an extremely joyful one, with a big smile creeping out of his lips, growing gradually.

“Oh shit, oh shit.” 

“What!?” Jake exasperated, almost jumping over the table to try and see what got Heeseung so excited on his phone, curiosity overtaking him. “Huh?” He tilted his head with confusion, sitting back on his chair, trying to understand Heeseung’s overly stoked reaction over a simple poster from a musical.

On the other hand Heeseung’s heart was racing too quickly for his own liking, his hands faltering the grip on his phone as he read the dates for the performances, which were starting that weekend in some random place he didn’t paid attention since what caught his eyes was the theater name from the next week. 

He couldn’t believe it.

You were coming back.

After all the waiting, here was the chance he'd been craving – the chance to see you live again. His fingers twitched with excitement as he clicked on the link to the ticket sales, not even caring about Jake’s bewildered face and questions, too focused on rushing to the ‘buy menu’.

“Oh shit, this is happening,” Heeseung muttered to himself, more to confirm it than to explain anything to Jake.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or just forget I’m right here?” Jake demanded, clearly frustrated but also amused by Heeseung's sudden outburst.

Heeseung finally looked up, beaming, eyes gleaming with something Jake never really saw before; it was like a child who got their first videogame after years of asking for it.

"It’s her, Jake! That singer I told you about. She’s performing here in like… A few days?" The cool facade he tried to maintain had a fall long ago, his ‘fanboy side’ being more revealed than he wanted.

Jake’s confusion lingered for a second before he remembered Heeseung relentlessly talking about this mysterious woman, the musical actress who had somehow captivated his friend so intensely. He let out a knowing groan. “So, you’re still obsessing over her, huh?”

“Not obsessing,” Heeseung corrected with a grin that betrayed him, his whole expression showing that he was, in fact, obsessing. “Just… Eager.”

Jake shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Eager, huh?” He leaned closer, raising an eyebrow up. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says, and then they spend a fortune on front-row tickets."

“Oh, right. Front-row…” Heeseung mumbled to himself as he got back to his phone, browsing through the available seats, hands slightly trembling as his finger pressed down to choose one of the best seats in the theater – front and center – with Jake’s words echoing in his mind. Thanks to Sunoo, he saw the announcement just in enough time to pick that one, and he completely ignored the price for the said ticket. 

“You’re really doing this?” Jake asked, incredulous watching Heeseung smile growing just before he bit his lower lip trying to contain it, as he leaned back on his chair. 

“I have to,” Heeseung said, finding it hard to not smile. His whole body was partying with his heartbeat serving as the background music. "This is my chance to see her again."

Jake rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’re so random.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung admitted with a shrug, his thoughts already drifting to the date he would see you, imagining your captivating presence on stage, singing with your ethereal voice, finally feeling every note in the same room as you with the attention you deserved.

He couldn’t wait.

Every time you opened a new show in a different city, your body reacted as if it was your first time on stage, the blended nervousness and excitement working perfectly together and resulting in an adrenaline boost for you to be on cloud nine. 

You loved your job with all your soul. The family-like friendship you developed with your beloved crewmates and actors, the backstage of the plays where you sometimes helped with the props letting your creativity flow freely, the difficult work of memorizing the scenes keeping it to the original at the same time you add a few self-written lines here and there, even the chaos of the quick costume changes and fast makeup touch-up in between scenes.

But what got into your heart the most was the ability to sing your voice out, being the one under the spotlight, expressing yourself through your acting, surprising people with your so known talent the same amount you made them clap for your breathtaking performances – the cheers after every play you finished making you fulfilled, a constant feeling of accomplishment. 

You worked hard to get into that position though. Years of intense studying in college, years of hard vocal lessons you still took to this day, years of working much to be paid less, until fame hit you and things have worked amazingly well since then. 

Now, facing the closed curtains already in your performer mode, you waited your cue to enter the stage and own it as if it was yours – and almost every time, it actually was. 

“Thirty seconds, Y/N,” your stage manager said to you and you nodded.

The new play was about an old film called Anastasia, in which you played the role of the said character. It also featured one of your favorite songs to sing, "Once Upon a December”. The haunting melody and lyrics evoked feelings of nostalgia, hitting deep on you as you drove yourself through it, just like the main character, searching for your identity and place in the world.

The atmosphere your fellow actors and crewmates created while you sang was the epitome of your presentation in your opinion; the created ballroom simulating phantoms dancing around you, so endearingly majestic and graceful, while they, themselves, sang the background, mimicking the lost memories of royalty Anastasia. 

It would be an euphemism if you expressed yourself as just excited, especially due to your practice time on your expressions and voice changes to sound as heartbreak as the musical actually was, expecting the general opinion to enjoy it as much as you did.

You could hear the buzz from the public, showing the same enthusiasm. And with that in mind, you got your cue to enter the stage, fast and confident steps guiding you to your place.

As you directed yourself through the stage gracefully, easily taking the breath of anyone watching you, once more the sentiment of belonging eveloped you with a mix of love and deep sense of purpose.

The cheering, the emotional tears, the claps. You felt the audience's admiration through their eyes as the final note echoed in the theater while you held your last pose, breathing heavily as the weight of your performance resonated in your heart.

The curtains closed after you and the other actors bowed to the crowd, who gave a standing ovation to all of you. Your smile was bright and big as you walked your way to the backstage, high-fiving your co-workers – your friends –, sharing the sentiment of accomplishment as you searched for some water, throat extremely dry after so much effort. 

Before you could even think about anything else, someone suddenly bear-hugged you.

“I don’t know how you manage to awe me everytime.”

You laughed, letting your friend lift and swirl you. “Oh come on, Jay. You literally saw every single practice,” you said with a light-hearted teasing tone and Jay gently put you back on the floor, letting you go from his strong embrace. 

He rolled his eyes before replying. “You did amazing, as always.”

“We did amazing. It's teamwork, don’t forget it,” you winked at him and you both walked to one of the couches, so you could sit and rest for a bit. Your knees burned like hell after spending so much time wandering across the stage. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of that alone, especially without my favorite producer,” you nudged his shoulder playfully, drinking more of your water, making Jay chuckle.

The whole cast and some other crewmates came to compliment your amazing performance, you praising them back and always highlighting how grateful you were to have them not only as co-workers, but as a family, acknowledging the strong importance of their roles during your performances and in your life.

You went through the things that needed to be fixed for the next shows with your stage manager, the small changes in positions for the next theaters the tour would go based on their size and structure, while listening to the equipment and props crew discussing similar stuff.

“So… Where are we going to celebrate our “Anastasia debut”?” Yunjin asked, already frustrated with the fact that all her fellow members were talking about work just after working, you included.

“Don’t you have work to do?” You shoot her a small, playful grimace and she mimicked it, mocking you. 

“I just did it, idiot.”

You smiled big as you hugged her from the waist, pulling her closer while resting your cheek on her belly, before questioning. “Where do you wanna go?”

Although partying wasn’t a part of your overall interest, having some drinks with the ones you cherished to be around always sounded fun, so with Yunjin leading – as usual –, many of you followed her into a small pub, having the fun you deserved after months of work that leaded to that night’s rewarding performance. 

You couldn’t wait for the upcoming ones, your schedule packed with the amount of dates programmed for a long, exciting, run.

“Ugh, I love Seoul,” Yunjin murmured with a concentrated frown as she took some pictures from the bus window. 

You chuckled, quickly glancing at your friend before grabbing your phone so you could reread some of the lines from the musical. Not that you struggled with memorizing the great amount of words you normally got, but you never let the chance to do a double check-up pass; always offering your bestest to your beloved audience was your prime motto. 

So you didn’t even realize when the bus started slowing its speed, snapping out of your focused bubble only when you started to hear a small chant of your name. You looked up from your phone screen, watching a little crowd pass by the glass window waving at it showing big smiles, without even knowing if someone was noticing or not. 

You always did.

Part of your job was to handle an audience, to make them fall in love with your acting and singing, so you could maintain them as close as possible and keep being able to live from what you loved the most. You enjoyed the interactions, treating them with the same amount of kindness and fondness they showed you through cute texts and letters, not to mention their words whenever they got to meet you in person. You tried to make yourself as available as you could, organizing your day to always have some free time to talk with your fans through your social media. 

Although exhausting sometimes, it was a worthwhile endeavor at the end of the day – to sleep with the fresh conscience and heart fulfilled, feeling their genuine love and support, no money could pay that.

When you finally settled at your hotel room, you gave yourself a small self-love treatment by taking a long shower and doing your skin care before heading to the theater with part of the cast to do all the warm-ups routine you needed.

The day carried a revitalizing sensation, your heart thumping with enthusiasm as the third performance of Anastasia approached. This time, however, it was more than special. It was in Seoul, your hometown – a simple fact that worked perfectly as an emotional aura for your background story.

Seoul always held a special place in your heart. No matter how the tour went, you made sure your managers knew that taking Seoul off the list was unforgivable; no matter the demand, no matter how much you could lose financially, you had to perform there. And you thanked your cast and respective crewmates for understanding your request.

While you wrapped up all the final touches from your makeup, hair and costume, drinking your last sip of water, you waited for your cue, as usual, unaware of the surprises the night held for you.

Because on the other side of the story...

Heeseung sat on his front seat with hands trembling and a fluttering heart. Every movement from the crew organizing the set to be perfect made him sweat in eagerness. He was so close to see you again, to witness your charming presence, your divine vocals. He didn’t knew much about the story from Anastasia, expecting for you to sweetly tell him through your performance. 

He was actually absorbed in the story being told, albeit his leg shaking showed his anticipation for your appearance. 

Thenyou finally stepped up onto the stage. Heeseung’s breath got caught on his throat, widened eyes glued on your every move, on your every expression, never daring to let you escape out of its sight; the front-row seat offering him the perfect view of your amazing looks and talented acting, the sound echoing through the theater tingling his ears in the best way possible.

Then your voice filled up the theater. Heeseung let out a quiet sigh, mouth slightly opened, feeling light headed by how gorgeous you sounded – there was it again, the rush of his heart fluttering in the addicting way it did before, entranced by you, this time intensified, stronger, far more passionate. 

As the melody of “Once Upon a December” flew through the air, your beautiful, shooting tone made it even harder not to shed some tears, alongside the couples dancing around you in an atmosphere almost painfully beautiful.

Heeseung was so enamored by every detail of you. How you expressed emotions with your body, with your singing, with your facials. His gaze never left you, following through your out’s and in’s from the stage to change outfits or scenes, missing you every moment you weren’t on the stage.

During your performance, each glimpse you shot at the crowd sent a shiver down his spine, as he silently begged for you to give him one, quick, minimal look, the smallest attention you could offer to him. 

For a brief second, you did. Not intentional, but your eyes meet for milliseconds. Heeseung’s heart skipped a beat; the way you smiled as if it was to him fed his delusional self too hard for his own liking. He had to ground himself back to reality in order to continue to savor your captivating performance. 

From your point of view, something was different that night. Among the sea of concentrated, curious expressions you normally faced while on stage, one particular person kept drawing your attention in a way it never happened before. 

You came across many people watching you, most of them with widened eyes, or mouth open, or a small smile, regular reactions you got from the audience once you showed up.

However, the young man sitting in the front-row flooded you with such endearing reactions; his eyes gleaming with admiration, intensely following your every move almost making you blush. He looked at you as if you were the only person in the room. Soft, tender expression sending a weird mix of reactions through your body.

As you kept doing your act, you couldn't help but glance back at him again whenever you got the chance, trying your best not to be obvious with your sudden curiosity about this stranger who seemed so completely captivated by you.

His reaction was almost adorable – the way his face lit up, as though your small acknowledgment had made his entire night. You felt a warmth in your chest, knowing that someone out there was this touched by your performance.

Through the rest of the play, you forced yourself to focus only on finishing it perfectly. “Anastasia” asked for less of a passion, happy ambiance and more of a sentimental one, and because the spotlight was constantly on you, it was very unprofessional to forget your main reason to be there and falter on your acting.

Nevertheless, each time you quickly landed your gaze on the strange, young – and attractive – man, you couldn’t help. He wasn’t just a regular fan. There was something more in his orbs, something deeper, something magnetic, and you caught yourself having an internal conflict. 

As you held your pose for the last piece of the play, showering emotion through your eyes for the happy ending, you nodded proudly to yourself when the cast prepared to wrap things up with the final performance.

Whoever the strange was, you apparently made quite an impression. And maybe, just maybe, he had made one on you too.

“Anastasia” was scheduled to be performed for three consecutives days, an entire weekend. Heeseung bought tickets for all of them, craving to experience you in all the ways he was able to – with the big stage separating you both, leaving him to just observe you from afar while you did your job.

Your job.

After the first night finished, Heeseung questioned himself whether he was perceiving things beyond reality, maybe distorted, influenced by his strange, yet pleasant and intense feelings for you. If not, he was pretty sure that you watched him as much as he watched you.

He recognized the flips his heart did every time your eyes landed on him, just to avoid quickly and slip back into your character – the need of seeing you again being reinforced by those exact little glimpses towards his direction, a river rushing through his head, full of confused thoughts.

Still, he reminded himself not to get too carried away. After all, you were working, captivating the audience was your job, which you did gracefully, gorgeously, charmingly. And charmed he was, in every possible sense of the word. 

By the second night, Heeseung arrived earlier than he planned, the excitement to see you again swelling in his chest. Though this time he wasn’t on the front-row either alone, he still got a great seat to see you.

“I can’t believe you liked the musical that much to see it again,” Sunoo teased with a small smile.

Heeseung’s cheeks warmed instantly, a faint blush decorating it as he avoided Sunoo’s glance, before saying. “Y–yeah, I liked the musical a lot. I had to see it again,” he offered an award laugh, looking down his lap.

“Right. The musical.” 

Heeseung was about to respond when the lights began to dim, the known introductory instrumental and the storyteller started to play their roles. His heart skipped a beat as his head lifted, eyes following the actors entering the stage as they started to tell the plot. 

Just like before, as soon as you stepped onto the stage, his eyes glued on your beautiful figure. You looked even prettier that day, although you didn’t change anything since last night.

For a millisecond your emotional eyes drifted quickly to the crowd and Heeseung’s breath hitched, eager for you to notice him in order to confirm his delusional state, or worse, do the reverse, making him understand he was looking at the situation using too much of his romantic side.

His seat was not an easy spot to see him, and somehow that comforted his inner self. If he was right about last night, you would catch his presence, his intense, focused, admiring orbs following your every move. Otherwise, he would give up on whatever he was feeling about you.

On the other hand, Heeseung barely knew you were having a strong internal debate every time you went backstage to get out of your scene after finishing it. Heeseung had no idea you were looking for him like crazy, the best way you could. Heeseung couldn’t even imagine you, out of all the actors, would be using your highlight time, singing, to search for his mysterious presence, pretending to look at the audience as you normally did. 

And you found him during “Once Upon a December” as you expected to do, since it was your moment to sing facing the crowd.

Ironically enough, the exact time you sang the line “Someone holds me safe and warm”, you locked eyes with him – caught totally out of guard, your heart started thumping in your chest too fast for your liking as you widened your eyes, then quickly recomposed yourself and fluttered your eyelids shut, concentrating on singing your emotional song. 

Somehow you got captivated by his mysterious, yet gentle aura, standing out so easily among the sea of people, offering you cute and genuine reactions, showering you with admiration. Like a magnet, you kept glimpsing at him, finding it, again, adorable, how he always held eye contact, seeming a bit surprised, and then shyly drifted away. Even after finishing your solo, you couldn’t divert your gaze.

Heeseung, however, was a total mess. He noticed everything, and as an automatic response his heart was pacing fast, his throat getting dry and his mind spinning. It couldn't be a coincidence that you glanced at him that often mid-performance.

“I might be crazy,” Sunoo whispered out of the blue, using the loud sound of the singers doing their performance to stifle his voice. “But is Y/N looking at us? Or better, at you?”

Heeseung drifted his bambi eyes to Sunoo and back to the stage, frowning. “You–”

“See! She did it again!” Due to his exasperated way of saying, his whisper sounded a bit high. Some people gave him a mad grimace, he huffed an embarrassed laugh.

"She's an actress. She probably looks at a hundred people like that every night," Heeseung explained with a low voice, trying to convince himself more than Sunoo.

“Whatever you say,” Sunoo grinned at his friend before returning to watch the play.

As expected, the musical ended gracefully after a few moments of tension and the story finished to be told. Your acting skills shone through you every move, captivating the audience until the last second. 

The lights dimmed once more, and the applause echoed through the theater vigorously in appreciation for that amazing show. Heeseung standed up to clap along, not even hiding he was searching for you amidst the chaos. When the cast bowed to the crowd, looking at them after straightening up to face the audience, a last and steady eye contact was held before the curtains closed, leaving Heeseung speechless, mouth slightly agape.

“Even if she looks at everyone, she had some special eyes for you tonight.” Sunoo said low near to Heeseung’s ear, feeding all his thoughts.

Heeseung left the theater more confused than he expected, trying to figure out if the connection was true, or if all the world decided to trick his mind. In any case, he had one more day to untangle the blended strings of his sentiments, and maybe, if he was lucky enough, the last show would work differently from the other two.

You were removing your makeup on your hotel room desk, Yunjin sitting on your bed finishing her own skin care routine. 

“I know this sound crazy and unprofessional, but last night there was a guy on the front-row–”

“The burgundy-haired guy! He couldn’t stop looking at you!” Yunjin cut you off, saying loudly and too excitedly.

Your head snapped towards her. “Burgundy– Wait, you’ve noticed him too!?” You asked flabbergasted, before going back to cleaning your skin, removing your makeup.

“Of course I did, he was almost eating you alive,” she said, rolling her eyes as she applied her skin toner. You looked at her again, but now with a shocked face, trying to figure out the meaning behind her phrase. “But with love. In a cute way!” She clarified after noticing your exaggerated reaction.

“I was afraid I was seeing things,” you frowned, looking at her through the mirror in front of you.

“Girl, definitely not,” she smirked. “If he shows up tomorrow again, please, for the sake of everything, get his number,” she demanded seriously and pointed to you with the bottle of the cream she held. 

“Oh, of course I will,” you said with a layer of sarcasm, not holding back your grin. “I’ll jump off of the stage mid-performance, hand him a paper and ask for his number.”

Yunjin giggled, nudging you with wiggly eyebrows. “Maybe that’s the grand finale we all need.”

You chuckled at her response, however, your thoughts drifted back to the said burgundy-haired guy, the memory of his intense, pierce, yet lovingly eyes glued on you sending a small heat to your cheeks as you finished your skin care.

When you woke up the next morning, your stage manager demanded the presence of everyone in the theater way earlier than you expected for some practice time. 

As the night approached, you found yourself now behind the big, red curtains with the buzz from the audience serving as a background. You stood in a corner of the backstage area, counting down from ten to one as a mental exercise to calm yourself. 

The anxiety you felt wasn’t the usual thrilling excitement before entering the stage, the longing to shine as the main act from the night. No, this time it was mixed with something else. 

There was a big chance the nameless guy would be in the audience once more, eyes glued on you like a magnet, attracting yours instinctively, in a way you didn’t found too pleasant still; a tall, strong barrier inside your chest making it difficult to ease things while working.

The familiar voice from Jay broke you out of your thoughts, interrupting your now inhale-exhale exercise.

“So, I’ve heard you’re changing your performance for today.” He said, voice laced with playfulness and curiosity.

You turned to face him, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“Get the number of the ‘burgundy-haired guy’?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of tease and amusement. “Or whatever Yunjin named him. Who uses burgundy as an everyday word?”

You shut your eyes close, finally understanding his words. “Ah.” You chuckled softly. “Yeah, the burgundy-haired guy.”

Jay laughed, warm and reassuring, placing both his hands on your shoulders so you wouldn’t avoid his gaze as you opened your eyes. “Invite him backstage today.”

Once again, you offered him a confused look, but now with a strong lack of confidence among it. His quick senses noticed your doubtful expression and added with a soft voice. “Y/N, you’re a human. You’re allowed to feel your feelings. Even if it’s about someone from the audience.”

You kept looking at Jay’s gentle eyes, not even a hint of judgment behind them. “Ok,” you said in response, nodding slowly before a smile tempted to curve into your lips. “Better option than jumping on him mid-performance to ask for his number.”

Heeseung had finished watching you for the third time, doing the exact same things, singing the exact same songs, saying the exact same lines, with the exact same props and cast.

Still he experienced shivers down his spine once you sang “Once Upon a December”, a song that quickly crawled his ranking of your performances, topping all of the others. Not only that, you also seemed way confident today. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, was getting flustered.

You didn’t care much about being obvious with your glances at him that night, sustaining eye contact longer than he expected. Heeseung felt that you were performing for him only, just like he watched you as if you were the only person on the stage. 

You both shared an unspeakable connection in between the play – you, keeping as professional as possible; while Heeseung tried not to run away from your sharp, intriguing gaze.

Despite your initial nervousness, especially without knowing if the mysterious guy would appear again, feeding your anticipation inside your chest as you entered the stage, it took less than minutes for your eyes to find him, sitting on the side, giving you a small, shy smile. 

You made no effort to contain your heartbeats increasing each time your eyes met, allowing your body to feel the wave of euphoria running through it, regardless of your hesitant thoughts about being unprofessional.

Whenever your character demonstrated happy emotions, with your lips curving into a smile, you searched for him as though you were smiling at him. Same thing when you sang some specific lines, searching from his sweet orbs following your figure already. Although the concept of the musical wasn’t necessarily romantic nor suggestive, there were some gaps you could use to your advantage, and you did. 

By the end of your last performance in Seoul, you smiled brightly and big at the crowd, thanking them alongside your crewmates, bowing and waving goodbye; the known sense of accomplishment flowing into your veins, now blended with the excitement for your next move.

As you walked your way out of the stage, before the big curtains fully closed, lights already dim in the stage but bright on the seats side, you searched once more for the man who had charmed you. He was also making his way out of the theater, your heart pounding in despair as if you were about to lose him.

But like you attracted him through your intense staring, he looked back directly at you. Boldly, you offered a shy smile, biting your lips hesitantly before grabbing your manager's arm and sneakily pointing out to who you wanted to meet backstage.

Heeseung’s heart raced as he watched the ongoing scene, mind unable to wrap a full comprehension about why you and some stranger were staring at him, even scanning his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t seeing things – like maybe you were looking out for some other person. Then he noticed you pointing and the other strange nodding, as if they finally understood your intentions, almost mouthering an “oh”.

Heeseung tilted his head, swallowing hard as a slight frown formed when he saw you vanishing behind the closed curtains, leaving him to deal with his puzzled brain alone. He blinked a few times, then shrugged to himself, putting his hands in his jacket’s pocket, even shaking his head trying to recompose.

As he took the exit direction with the rest of the people, a security guard suddenly stopped him by grabbing his shoulder, saying in a low tone. "Sir, you’ve been requested backstage."

Heeseung was unsure if he heard correctly.

"Backstage? Me?" He stammered, mouth slightly open and bambi eyes full of confusion. Did he do something wrong?

The guard nodded and motioned to him. “Follow me, please.” 

Heeseung legs felt like jelly following the random guard into the said backstage, a blurred motion of his surroundings as the crew passed by, some removing the props off the stage, many others wandering around, and then he recognized the actors from the musical talking in between themselves, loud laughters echoing through the small area, some with their stage clothes on.

Then he saw you.

Still wearing parts of your outfit, smiling radiantly while chatting with someone he made no effort to identify – his body perked up with the sight of you, his whole being drawn like a magnet. 

He barely noticed the guard was long gone by now, leaving him standing awkwardly with mingled feelings he couldn't figure out yet. Bewilderment was a euphemism to describe it. 

You seemed even prettier now than under the spotlight, shining on the stage. You seemed natural, although you still had makeup and pieces of your exaggerated royal costume on. 

As you sensed the intensity of his stare, you turned, eyes locking immediately with Heeseung’s. The spark he would often feel when watching you perform ignited again, hands trembling, heart painfully resonating loud on his ears as the whole world seemed to fade out when you started to walk into his direction. 

He was so in awe he didn’t notice you were hesitant, your movements appearing to be slowed down in his vision.

“Hi.” You said softly as you reached closer, biting your lower lip to suppress your excited smile, afraid of scaring the guy off.

Your gaze wandered his face, taking in his gorgeous features; adorable bambi eyes showing you an entire night sky full of stars, cheeks with a faint blush, cherry lips slightly parted. Unnecessarily attractive. 

If you paid close attention, you would perceive how his ears also were painted in a light shade of red.

“Hi.” He breathed out in an astonished way, a sweet voice that made your stomach do a flip.

“I’m sorry for bringing you here so suddenly.” You started, and although you felt a small heat in your cheeks, you didn’t broke eye contact. “I– Honestly, I was afraid of losing sight of you,” you grinned shyly. “I’ve noticed you in the audience for the past two days and today as well.” You explained, after receiving nothing in response. “I wondered what got you so invested,” and then you chuckled, forcely agreeing that your choice of words was enough to clarify – for sure it wasn’t, but you decided to deal with whatever consequences later. 

Heeseung blinked with the new piece of information that entered his brain, perplexed by how sincere you worded it. 

“You noticed me?” He could feel his heart faltering some beats and then fastening again, totally desynchronized. Gladly he could figure out something to say, since his throat felt like closing. 

“Yeah, quite hard not to when you look at me so intensely with your beauti– with your eyes,” you tried to sound chill and playful to ease things, making it less awkward. However, the way you spoke seemed a bit too flirty, not to mention you almost let a compliment slip out of your mouth, and he blushed harder, chuckling. 

“I didn’t mean to stare. I mean, you’re an actress of course you’re used to that, but I recognize I might have crossed the line,” he was strong in maintaining his eyes on you, but the way you were looking through your eyelashes, blinking slowly, so prettily right in front of him, broke down his confidence – in a good, amazing way. Everything feeling like a fever dream.

You giggled, loving how you were affecting him, just as much as he was messing you. Before you could say anything, he added with a small shrug.

“I just got captivated by you.” And he went back into locking his eyes with yours.

Now it was your time to get a bit flustered, still, you held it together just before reuniting all the forces you found internally to say your next words.

“You’ve crossed no lines,” you smiled. “And I’ve got captivated by you.”

You watched how his Addam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the tension on his body loosening slightly, his timid smile spreading gradually wider as though your words unlocked something different deep within him. Somehow, you got even curious about what he could show you.

“May I ask your name?”

“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung,” he responded, offering you his hand. Your eyes followed the movement as you gave him a sheepish grin, grabbing his warm palm, the touch lingering enough to make your breath hitch.

“I’m Y/N,” you replied playfully, making him laugh, holding hands still.

His eyes turned into small crescents as he did so, his soft chuckle resonating beautifully in your ears. For some random reason, your heart started to beat faster, an interesting feeling spreading all over your chest, making you sigh.

“You were incredible up there,” Heeseung said after you both let each other’s hands go, blocking the awkwardness from establishing in between you two. 

“Yeah?” You raised an eyebrow and your lips curved into a smirk, knowing very much you did amazing, but a compliment from a gorgeous man like that easily ruined your confidence and contradictory, at the same time, it flattered your ego. “Thank you.” You said, right before analyzing you and Heeseung were standing in the middle of nowhere inside the backstage of the theater, so you gently grabbed his arm and dragged him with you to a corner.

Heeseung just followed you, in trance with your beauty, with your presence, with you. He also observed that your normal voice sounded quite different from when you were on stage. Endearing, if he dared to say.

As you reached a quieter corner, you let go from his arm and leaned into the wall, curiosity filling your eyes as you bit your lower lip.

“Sorry about that,” you said with a small, awkward chuckle. “Didn’t want us to block the path,” you nodded to where you were before.

“No problem,” Heeseung replied, still processing the sudden pull, the phantom of your warm touch still tingling on his skin. 

“So, besides me,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you, a hint of playfulness glinting in your eyes. “What did you think of ‘Anastasia’?”

Heeseung let out a chuckle, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lips as he took a moment to answer. 

“I loved every bit of it,” his voice dropped slightly and his gaze deepened. Although the known tenderness seemed to be mingled with it, there were more layers on it. “But I have to admit. You were my main focus.”

You giggled again. Second time in just a few minutes together. Heeseung actually felt like going to heaven and back to earth with the sound of your giggles, having to physically stop himself from his hands touching you, caressing your adorable blushed cheeks or landing on your hips.

“You flatter me,” you said sheepishly, uncrossing your arms. “But I’m sure I wasn’t that distracting, Heeseung.”

His name sounded so much more beautiful in your voice – the way you said it was magnetic, with a hint of sensuality and teasing, making his heart skip several beats.

“You definitely were, Y/N.” He opted to play in your game, taking a step closer, recognizing the change of the atmosphere between you two. 

You also were aware of the shift in the air, allowing your flirty, shameless part to shine brighter during the conversation. “I think I owe you a proper thank you for being such an attentive audience member.” 

Heeseung’s smile slowly faded out, his eyes softening and growing more intense, half-lidded with anticipation as you reached to hold his hand. 

“How do you plan on doing that?” He asked, husky voice tickling your stomach, his fingers sweetly playing with yours.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your nervousness evident as you replied, “Would you mind waiting for me to change? It’ll take about an hour...” 

“Absolutely not,” he eagerly replied, eyes lightening up with expectation. Then he lifted your hand until his lips touched it and placed a tender kiss, as an unspoken promise he would wait for you. “I’ll be right here. Take your time.”

The soft press of his lips on your skin sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth spreading directly into your heart making your pulse race. 

Unwillingly, you released his brief, yet electrifying touch, offering a flustered grin and a reassuring nod while the anticipation grew within you. As you turned towards the changing room, you could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your back, never once losing sight of you.

Yunjin met you there, more excited than you by your supposed date, to which you shut down right away saying it wasn’t a date. Despite your complaints, she kept her usual cheerful energy, helping you to undo your hairstyle as you removed your makeup, just to apply something more natural and less theatrical. You took a quick shower, as the heavy stage clothes and intense movements during the performance had left you feeling sweaty and disheveled.

Despite rushing your time, the fear that Heeseung might already be long gone was rapidly sinking in, so you hurried your steps out of the changing room when you finished your things, walking back to where you left him.

You let out a relieved sigh as you saw his figure happily talking with one of your friends, now with his back facing you.

“Oh, so you already met Jay.” You greeted them with a smile.

Heeseung averted his attention to your approach, your fresh sprayed perfume infiltrating his airways. He took his time to check you out shamelessly with his pretty bambi eyes filled with a perfect mixture of adoration and something darker.

“Yeah, he did.” Jay nodded with a smile, before leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “He seems pretty great, Y/N. Amazing choice,” and he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, walking away after saying a quick goodbye.

You felt your cheeks heating up with your friend's words, a faint blush decorating the area, to which Heeseung noticed right away. 

“You look beautiful.” He said softly, loving how casual you wore yourself; loose black shirt, baggy jeans and black converse.

Your natural look would always be his favorite – he wouldn’t admit that easy, but he stalked your instagram like crazy during the first days, so he was aware of a few things about your visual. However, no one prepared his heart to face it so closely, your beauty glowing even stronger now. 

“Thank you.”

He got startled when you kindly took his hand with yours, pulse racing with the sudden intimate touch. Nonetheless, he was loving every second of it, fearlessly lacing your fingers, paying close attention to your reaction. As he expected, you smiled sheepishly. 

“Would it be disappointing that my suggestion is a private bar near here, so we can drink and talk?” You hesitantly asked as you started to head towards the exit.

“Of course not.” Heeseung shot you with one of his sweet, reassuring glances. “I would go anywhere with you.”

You chuckled, unconsciously squeezing his hand as you tried to run from his flirty eyes. “You shouldn’t say things you can’t carry out.” You said, teasingly.

You both reached out of the theater using the back exit, avoiding the public so you could have some privacy. Being famous had its perks, but also a lot of downs, the lack of privacy being one of them. Nonetheless, you loved each individual part of it; since the beginning of your career you built a good community. In your relationship with your fans, you constantly reinforced yours and theirs boundaries. 

“You think I can’t?” He quirked an eyebrow, a sly smirk taking place on his cherry lips. You couldn’t help but focus on how Heeseung appeared even more handsome under the city’s nightlights, sharp lines being evidenced while the fresh breeze messed up his burgundy hair. “Should I prove you wrong, then?”

You got a bit taken aback with his sudden confidence, yet, you loved to see this new side of him blooming with you, allowing yourself to indulge in the game as much as you were enjoying the player.

“Well,” you began to talk. “You have three days before I head to the next city.” 

Although Heeseung’s chest tightened with your unexpected reality shock, reminding him that you were a busy woman, and traveling a lot was a enormous part of your work, he decided to enjoy your presence as much as you let him to, instead of overthinking about your soon departure.

Heeseung waited for you for months, he would wait for more if he needed to. 

His smile softened, still, his eyes sparkled by your subtle challenge. “Three days, huh? I’ll have to make them unforgettable then.”

You laughed, his words sending a pleasantly thrill in your core, excited with his promise. 

“Isn’t that too much pressure?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I like a challenge,” Heeseung shot back, playful voice laced with something deeper, almost daring. 

You giggled at his response, only now noticing he hadn’t let go of your hand since the beginning. Initially, you were apprehensive about the intimate touch, but Heeseung’s presence stirred a surprising sense of ease within you. His effortless way of breaking through your barriers made you feel comfortable enough to be yourself, dissolving your reservations with a natural grace.

You wondered if it was because he seemed genuine with his actions, since the very first night offering you such sweet glances and admiration eyes.

During your walk, you could see through his kind actions how respectful and caring he was, switching places with you so he was the one on the road side of the sidewalk, letting you walk in front of him whenever the space was narrowed by the flush of people, and mostly just by letting you to talk without interruptions.

Despite Heeseung’s ability of lowering your defenses, you still had some difficult thoughts about allowing it too much. A strong part of you were afraid of giving other people’s free access to your private life. You wished Heeseung could prove to you he was worth it. 

You reached the bar quicker than you expected, your relaxed chat filling up the walk as you discovered some of Heeseung’s personal traits and that he worked in the entertainment industry, being the one behind the scenes in the marketing area for some brands. Also you find out that his favorite hobby was to play on his computer during his free time and watch random youtube videos.

Since you knew the place, you chose a recluse seat near the corners, where no one could see you both having your intimate time together.

“I have to be honest,” Heeseung said after he sat down, facing you. “I’ve been in Seoul for God’s know how long, and I have never seen this bar.”

You laughed, grabbing the menu, your hungriness screaming in your stomach. 

“I love it here.” You smiled. “It’s very private and not many people are allowed to enter. Actually, if I’m not mistaken, it’s kind of an artist type of place? Like famous people and, I don’t know, CEOs come here.” You explained, Heeseung nodding to your words.

Heeseung was so thrilled with the whole experience of getting to know you better. He had always envisioned you as an idol-like figure. Your unreachable, distant persona, unallowing his mind to go further than watching you on stage. 

Ironically enough, the natural side you showed so far warmed his heart even more. Your bold humor, your confident actions, how your eyes lit up when you talked about your job and interests – everything working perfectly to make it harder not to fall for you.

Seeing you out of the actress aura, in a more relaxed and genuine setting, only deepened his fascination. The charm you once threw at him increased gradually as he felt his heart fluttering with your laughter and easy talk. 

You both got along like it was meant to be.

“I actually became interested in musicals because of you,” he admitted after some chatting, sipping the non-alcoholic drink he ordered.

“How come?” You asked, interested in the story, biting your pajeon.

One thing you loved about your job was to hear people’s stories of how they got interested in musicals. You’ve heard many, some because of their parents, some due to curiosity, others because of seeing it online. 

However, Heeseung’s one was a bit… Different from what you expected. 

“Oh,” Heeseung expressed with a shy smile, lowering his eyes to his glass, playing with the border of it. You cocked your head to the side, wondering why he went silent after your question. “I kinda…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the movement neatly noticed by you. “Fell for your aura, y’know?” He tried his best not to say he fell for you. “Your voice is amazing. And you looked so confident.”

You blinked slowly with a bright smile, loving to see his flustered self gathering all the resources in his body trying not to be so obvious, although his eyes never lied to you. Heeseung’s words and the way his body was reacting unlocked something bold inside your chest. 

You were about to speak, thanking him for his appreciation or whatever your mind could come up with, but he continued. 

“The first time I watched a musical was when you did Tangled,” Heeseung was doing his best not to look at your eyes, afraid of losing his inner battle and saying what he wasn’t planning to. “I was accompanying a friend that loves you.”

“Oh,” You said excitedly, a smirk on your lips. You raised your glass and clinked it with his. “Cheers to your friend then.” You laughed at his confused reaction, now finally looking at you with his blushed cheeks, unnecessarily adorable. “Thanks to him, we met. Isn’t that right?” 

A darker shade of red painted his cheeks as he smiled bashfully.

“I think we can say that, yeah.” He nodded, taking a good sip of his drink, bambi eyes following your movements. 

You leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with what Heeseung read as mischief, making his heart falter some beats.

“So you’re saying you’re a fan of mine now?” You teased, biting your lip shamelessly as your eyes drifted to Heeseung’s cherry ones. The alcohol in your veins facilitating not only your words to come out, but your actions to be bolder. 

Heeseung got initially stunned by your not so subtle flirting, pulse increasing fast. Then he decided to get on your game, purposely wetting his lips just to watch your gaze tracking motion of it. 

“Definitely a fan of yours, Y/N.” He smirked, also leaning in, your faces close enough for your breaths to slightly mingle. 

“And you’re devoted too. Attentively paying attention to me…” You purred, tilting your head to the side as your eyes softened, totally switching the atmosphere between you too once more. 

Something about the way Heeseung was attractive, had a good talk and seemed to be loving spending that small time with you, was stirring with you, to the point of you moving uncomfortable on your chair because the way he seemed to be so kissable right now was driving you insane.

Heeseung had his lips slightly agape and glistening due to his recent sip, hooded eyes analyzing your expression with adoration and wanting, as if he wasn’t afraid of showing off his feelings anymore. You appeared to be more interested in what he could offer than he was captivated by you, allowing Heeseung to gradually become confident.

His gaze lingered on your lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a sly smirk. 

“My car is parked in the theater parking lot.” He murmured, looking around before standing up just to sit on your side – you didn’t knew if it was purposeful, but the way he positioned himself  covered your figure, so no one would recognize you. “Can I take you somewhere more private?” He took the chance to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You were flabbergasted by his sudden caring gesture, albeit intrigued by the boldness in his eyes. A small breath escaped your lips as your heart started to beat fast. 

“Somewhere more private?” You echoed, voice barely above a whisper. 

Heeseung nodded, now gently brushing his thumb on your cheek, heating the area.

“Only if you want to.” He added, his voice dropping down a tone, eyes locked into yours.

Your whole body got electrified by the amazing sensations Heeseung was making you go through. 

“Take the lead, pretty boy.” You voiced out as you moved your head just enough to plant a small, tender kiss on his palm. 

Your words were all it took for Heeseung to ask for the check, and didn't let you pay for your food and drink when he did so, despite your objections. You rolled your eyes, though your heart fluttered at the way he took charge so effortlessly, as if the thought of you paying for that night never crossed his mind. 

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to be around the theater still. Is it ok for me to go get my car and then I pick you up here?” As if he hadn’t been a gentleman enough throughout the night, he questioned before you could stand up, taking your privacy into consideration for his decisions. 

“Sounds great.” You answered, forcing your body not to overreact and your voice to sound as normal as you could. “But how do I know you won’t leave me hanging?” You questioned cheekily, though there was a hint of insecurity in your voice. After all, Heeseung could be the most captivating man in the world, but you had only known him for a few hours.

“You have to trust me,” he said, throwing you a quick cocky wink paired with a smirk as he made his way out of the bar, longing his gaze on you before disappearing from the main door.

Heeseung had no idea how those simple words and gestures affected you. Crossing your legs did little to calm the rush of feelings surging through your core. 

You sighed, grabbing your phone to message Yunjin about the change of plans. She was way more excited than you, making you laugh as you typed you probably wouldn’t sleep at the hotel with her that night. 

Anyway, you were also making sure someone in your circle of friends knew your whereabouts. Again, being famous had its downs, and dealing with creepy people was on the list as well. 

You waited sitting for a few minutes before going outside, since you didn’t wanted Heeseung to make the effort of turning off his car to announce he was waiting for you. Gladly, there were a small number of people outside, and you stood near to the security guard just in case. 

You spotted a black car pulling up in front of where you were standing after a while, the window rolling down revealing Heeseung on the driver’s seat with a small smile. 

“Hey,” your lips curved into a relieved smile and you opened the door to enter the car. 

Heeseung felt bad for being unable to do that for you since he had stopped in a traffic place where he couldn’t stop for too long. Instantly you sent your live location to Yunjin, just to be safe.

“I know I was the one who brought up finding a more private place,” he started, a bit uncertain. “But do you have any place in mind?” 

His question made you think for a while. Your hotel was out of question, since Yunjin was sleeping there too. 

“I don’t wanna take you to my place right away.” He added quickly. “Don’t get me wrong. I just don’t feel you would be as comfortable there…” He trailed off, glancing at you for a millisecond. 

“Because you know your place better than me.” You completed, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smirk tugging the corner of your lips. 

“Exactly.”

“Are you a stalker or just a perfect gentleman?” You asked with curiosity and playfulness. 

Heeseung let out a hearty, loud laugh, filling up the inside of his car as he ignored how his stomach did a flip about being a perfect gentleman in your eyes. 

“Neither, I hope.” He chuckled, looking at you warmly when he stopped in one red light. 

You smiled, enjoying how at ease you became around him, the blended seductive and playful atmosphere around you two building up the ideal scenery for you to fall for Heeseung. 

On the other hand, Heeseung wasn’t different. Slightly afraid of scaring you or making you uncomfortable, but still, loving the way you expressed yourself so vividly, making him laugh every second. 

“So… We’re going…?” He sweetly asked after your silence, waiting for your suggestion.

What Heeseung didn’t expect was to see your whole face lit up with seductive playfulness, the anticipation building up before you spoke, your velvety, low voice sending signals straight to his core, as your eyes drenched him in lust.

“Anywhere we can have a bed, Heeseung.”

Heeseung didn’t let you pay for the chosen hotel room as well, to which your body reacted instantly as the heat increased, your desire dripping out your eyes as you devoured him shamelessly. 

His impeccable manners were almost too good to be true, being such a gentleman during the night, leading the way, but only after your consent, after asking you, after you taking the decisions. He listened to your wants and found a solution easily, a characteristic you found extremely attractive. 

It was incredibly refreshing to find a man like him, so devoted to making you feel like a queen, allowing you to simply relax and enjoy yourself without you having to ask for it.

Now, however, you needed him to solve another problem, the one in which your arousal had left your panties dampened and you restless.

Seeing his charismatic interaction with the worker as nonchalantly doing the check-in, the smile after thanking them, the skilful hands grabbing his wallet, his eyes switching from tenderness to raw desire when landing them on you. Heeseung was clearly struggling to contain his eagerness to take you to an intimate setting as soon as possible. His restraintment was driving you wild, intensifying your anticipation.

How were you being so affected by that? Also, you weren’t one to hook up on your first meeting – not even calling it a date, since it was a rushed last minute type of situation. 

Then you remembered. Heeseung had built up the perfect atmosphere for you both since the very first day you saw him.

His beaming expression, eyes glued on you, showing genuine enchantment by your performance and now, you understood, by your beauty as well. You felt more than flattered to charm someone so hot and attentive as him. 

His easy going personality and the way he acted like a true man, demonstrating to genuinely care about you, made a perfect blend of your ideal type – you didn’t even knew you had one until now.

As soon as you entered the elevator, it took one simple glance from Heeseung for you to attach your lips on his, shivering at the sweet taste of his mouth as your hands searched for support on his shoulders. 

He got taken aback by your sudden decision, but didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your touch, eager for more since day one. Oh, he was in heaven by the way you were falling apart right in front of his eyes, because he, himself, was drowning in your presence since the beginning. 

His mannerism around you was flawless, how he positioned his hands respectfully on your waist instead of lower, making you smirk in between the rushed kiss, totally contradictory to how his tongue passionately searched for yours to deepen the touch.

There were no words being spoken at that moment, but so much was being vocalized through his hitched breath and your soft moans, the ones that made Heeseung’s dick twitch in his pants. 

“Fuck,” he groaned and threw his head back when you deattached your mouth just to kiss other parts of his exposed skin.

In no moment you wondered if it was a set up, because if so, Heeseung was a better actor than you. There was no way he was faking his reactions while your lips sucked the flesh of his neck vigorously, as if your life depended on it, not even caring about marking the area as you did so. 

Both of you shared the same thinking: the door needs to open soon, otherwise the elevator cameras would be filming something very intimate. 

Heeseung went back to kissing you, already addicted to your taste, sucking your tongue and lip fervently just to hear your sounds once again. You scratched his nape with your fingernails when you finally heard the sound of the door opening, both of you giggling in between the kiss since none of you decided to move away, stumbling your steps until you reached the room door. 

Heeseung positioned your back against the wall just to skilfully unlock the entrance, pushing you against the door to open and closing it back with his feet.

You took no time to appreciate the beauty of the room, eagerly waiting for the moment the back of your knee would hit the bed and you would finally have Heeseung hovering you the way you wished the most.

You removed Heeseung’s jacket and tossed it at some random place on the floor before he maneuvered your body when you reached the soft mattress, so you could lay comfortably – his strong grip on your thigh and hip sending jolts of excitement to your core as you gasped for air, but never once completely breaking the contact of his sultry, hot mouth against yours.

He wasted no second to position himself over you, the weight of his body pressing yours in an electrifying way, his lips only backing away to place rough kisses on your neck, nibbling your ear lobe as his fingers infiltrated your shirt to touch the bare skin of your stomach.

Your body reacted instantly with the amount of stimulus, arching into him, yearning more and more of his heated hands and mouth working wonders on you. Instinctively, your fingers tugged his beautiful strands of hair while pulling him down, closer, inciting Heeseung to continue his assault on your sensitive flesh. 

However, as your impatience grew, so did your desire.

“Heeseung…” You breathed out, panties already ruined by how wet you were.

“Hm?” He murmured, trailing kisses until he reached your mouth again, his hands still heating the area of your waist as he caressed it painfully slowly, giving you a rush of chills.

You kissed him back, then pushed him away by pulling his hair, searching for his now darkened eyes, filled with lust and a small hint of the usual tenderness towards you. You watched how his gaze switched between your lips, your eyes and other areas of your face, as if he was memorizing every feature of yours to keep them as a personal picture. 

“Don’t keep me waiting,” you whispered with your voice rich with desire, your heavy breaths mingling with Heeseung’s in an intimate way you didn’t expect to feel with him so easily.

He chuckled at himself, blinking slowly as he bit his lower lip, hooded eyelids demonstrating how far gone for you he already was, lost in his pleasure. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, planting a sweet kiss on each of your cheeks. “You just feel too good.”

And he wasn’t lying. 

The way your body reacted to all of his touches so far was driving him instantly to hell and back to earth, his own skin tingling with a hunger he never felt before just by hearing your small, beautiful sounds. Heeseung wished to stop time and have you like that for the rest of his life, even if it sounded exaggerated and premature. He developed feelings for you long enough to have his mind working in that way, yearning for every bit of you, with his sharp gaze catching all of your reactions as he always did.

“I want to enjoy every second I have with you.” Heeseung admitted genuinely. You noticed the top of his ears turning into a cute shade of red. 

“You can do that,” you reassured, downing your hands from his hair to his shoulders and then to his strong arms, almost moaning after feeling them tensing under your touch. “But please,” you pleaded firmly with a low voice, squeezing his biceps. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

With a small nod, a sly grin and a brief peck on your lips, Heeseung sat on his knees, the hands once under your shirt just brushing slightly the area, glided slowly over your skin as he moved to undress the fabric off of your body. 

He searched for your gaze before moving forward. “Are you sure about that?” He had stopped himself mid-action for your consentment, and you couldn’t help but smile, finding adorable his respectfulness with you, despite the obvious shared intense, almost tangible, desire.

“Totally.” 

After your word he finally removed your shirt, leaving your upper body covered only with your bra.

You shivered under his lascivious gaze, devouring you shamelessly with a satisfied smirk. He looked drunk as he approached again, brushing his lips on your collarbone and then near your breasts, playing with it over the clothing piece teasingly, looking up at you with his big bambi eyes showing a faux innocence. 

The fresh contact of his mouth and tongue against new parts of your body made you arch your back again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation. You felt his hands working its way to free your boobs and when he finally did, you moaned in relief.

“Fuck,” he groaned with a small, attractive frown, as if he was mad with your beauty. “You look perfect.”

You fluttered your eyes open, catching a sight of how dedicated Heeseung was sucking your hardened nipple while his hand massaged the other, eventually switching sides to give both equal treatment, and you also caught him already looking at you, savoring each of your reactions.

Little did you know that while tasting you, he was also engraving into his memory those raw, genuine expressions, so different from the ones he had seen when you were on stage, acting. 

You managed to reach for the hem of his beige shirt, teasing to slide them off. He noticed right away your attempt and quickly helped you by sitting on his knees and undressing himself, revealing to your hungry eyes his slightly tanned torso, his muscles tensing as he moved to toss the clothing piece to the ground. 

Heeseung got shy under your thirsty gaze, but how could you look at him any other way? His body seemed flawless under the room’s dim light, broad shoulders, biceps and chest with just the right amount of muscles. Not to mention the silver chain necklace adorning his neck, which you found particularly attractive, and his gorgeously messy hair.

“You’re so fucking hot, Heeseung.” You murmured with sincerity, your fingers trailing over his arms, feeling the firm texture beneath your touch. 

The room appeared to shrink, the air getting thicker as your respiration accelerated with the view. The anticipation to feel all those parts pressing flush against yours grew, a thrill of excitement running throughout your body straight to your cunt. 

Heeseung acted out of instinct after your praise, as if upon realizing your desire mirrored his own, the carefulness, the gentleness he was cherishing to give you during the night instantly vanished just to be replaced by the raw yearning of being inside you. 

Of course he would still listen to your demands, there was a vivid part of him willing to give you the affection you deserved. However, by the way you cheekily smiled and how your gaze sharpened after him yanking his own jeans and then yours, he knew how you wanted it to happen.

Heeseung brushed his painfully hardened dick on your thigh as he reached for your mouth, kissing you fervently while one of his hands explored your clothed pussy. He moaned against your lips when you purposely slightly moved your leg to grace his cock with a bit more of friction, as a way of thanking him for rubbing your pulsing clit over your panties.

It was a shared intimate touch covering the visceral need of fucking you for good, his inner battle going on about how to treat you, since your non-verbal answer – lustful eyes and smile – didn’t meant much to him to be certain within his decision.

“Heeseung,” you moaned, grinding against the skilful fingers making circles on your clit, the fabric preventing you from feeling them directly on your pussy, making you annoyed. “I want you, stop teasing me.” You demanded, and instantly Heeseung moved his head to the curve of your neck, gently kissing it while pushing your panties to the side to start fingering you.

He collected a bit of your arousal on your slick folds, literally moaning just by the feeling of his digits sliding with ease on your pussy, pressing your entrance with one and then two, loving to hear your beautiful whimpers.

Heeseung supported himself with one arm just to watch your pleasant frown, your mouth slightly agape, your breath hitching, eyes fluttered shut.

“You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he admitted in a low, husky tone, sending shivers to your spine. 

You opened your eyes, a sly smile adorning your lips as you said. “Imagine how beautiful I’ll be with your cock instead of your finger, then.”

Heeseung’s dick twitched against your thigh with your words. You observed his eyes darkening even more, taking in the challenge as his life depended on it, barely giving you time to process him removing all the clothing pieces from both of you, offering the gorgeous view of his reddened and extremely hard shaft, tip dripping precum. 

Your mouth watered, but you ignored your sudden urge of sucking him, since your biggest want was to have that dick inside of you as soon as possible. 

You tracked his movements with your eyes, a low groan escaping from your throat as you watched Heeseung put on the condom and pump his length a few times. The vein of his arm popped due to the motion, making you wonder how hot he would look desperately touching himself, a thought you opted to keep to yourself for now.

“I hope you don’t hold back.” You provoked, quivering beneath his heated body as he positioned himself to enter you, supporting himself with one arm as your hands found its comfort on his shoulders. 

Heeseung looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

His words only fueled the fire between you, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he aligned himself perfectly, his gaze never leaving yours. 

“You’ve set the pace,” he murmured, low voice dripping with desire. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled as a response to his dirty and teasing words, a soft moan escaping your lips as he started to fill you up so perfectly. But Heeseung gave you no time to savor it properly, beginning to thrust deep and hard, yet agonizingly slow, as if he was messing with you right after your explicit request. The playful glint in his eyes made it clear how delighted he was by setting the rhythm, toying your pussy just how he wanted, enjoying a bit too much the show of the changes in your facial expressions.

“You feel so fucking good,” Heeseung sighed with a pleasant frown. 

Your walls clenching around his sensitive dick was driving him insane, the euphoria to fuck you harder and faster rising in his chest, albeit he did his best to control it because he had two goals that night. First, to experience you in every possible way, and second, to make sure you never forgot just how incredible he could be at it.

You wanted to curse Heeseung’s pace, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t enjoying every second of his slowness, how it allowed you to feel each inch of his cock deliciously sliding inside you, delaying your run towards your relief.

Heeseung attached his lips on yours while keeping the deliberated grind, a passionate kiss mingled with your soft moans and hitched breaths.

There was something about the way he was treating your body with such devotion, taking his sweet time to taste your mouth while feeling your pussy sliding on his length, gradually learning exactly how to satisfy you.

His hands caressed your skin with affection, sensing it shivering under his contact, then he shot you a playful look, repositioning himself on his knees as he grabbed a pillow to place it under your waist, opening and slightly lifting your legs, in a way to give him easy and full access to hit you deeper.

You whimpered by the instant amazing feeling of Heeseung finding your g-spot right away, his face lighting up with the new information you just gave him without uttering a single word besides his name within moans.

“F–fuck, Heeseung–” Your broken voice and the desperation in your eyes served as the final push for Heeseung to lose control and speed his thrusts, your knuckles turning white with your strong grip on the sheets. 

You let out a sequence of whimpers, groans, moans, whatever sounds you were able to make, entirely lost in your lustful pleasure, your whole body shaking on the bed as Heeseung frantically and intensely moved his hips.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d make your days unforgettable,” Heeseung’s husky, confident voice triggered a new wave of ecstasy throughout you.

You winced underneath him, fully unable to say cohesive words. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolled back right before fluttering shut within a frown. The lewd slaps sounds of him pounding roughly on your pussy making you completely dizzy, his urgent rhythm driving you close to the edge.

Heeseung’s breathing was heavy and erratic, filling the room together with your loud moans as he pushed you near to the brink of release, his hands squeezing whatever part of your legs he touched, your own hips unconsciously grinding to meet his rhythm. 

The knot on your stomach tightened gradually, and Heeseung’s pace became unsteady. The small piece of your mind that still worked correctly deduced Heeseung was just as close as you to his own climax, so you tightened your walls purposely and opened your eyes just in the right time to catch a glimpse of Heeseung throwing back his head, consumed by his pleasure; his flushed neck glistening in sweat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he moaned, the fucking chain necklace dangling.

“Hee– close–” You tried to warn, you really did. But the whole moment got you overwhelmed in the bestest way possible. You barely had strength to think, let alone talk.

Heeseung snapped out of his blurry bliss with your voice echoing in his ears. His eyes searched for you right away, instantly moaning at the view of you, perfectly messy, falling apart, just for him to see.

He leaned forward, decreasing the distance between your torsos. Without a second thought, your hands roamed over his firm, strong arms until you reached his nape, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, as though your body naturally gravitated towards him, like a magnet.

Neither of you could keep on the kiss, Heeseung’s head falling besides yours as your fingernails scratched his back, the urge of your so close orgasm making you desperate. 

“Please–” You pleaded without much thinking, legs evolving Heeseung’s waist trying to help his erratic movements. 

“Come for me, yeah?” He murmured against your ear, holding back his own release just to feel your walls clenching him while achieving your orgasm. “Come for me like a good girl.”

And you did. Screaming his name, digging your nails on his skin, waving your body as the surge of your breathtaking climax rushed over it.

You felt Heeseung’s dick throbbing right before he filled up the condom with his release together with the beautifulest moan of the night, the one where he said your name lasciviously, hoarse and intimate in your ear.

Heeseung’s exhausted body collapsed on yours, his sweaty skin clinging to you and yet you gave no care. Your focus was on catching your breath, trying to ground yourself with your sight still hazy from the intensity of your climax. 

“Holy shit,” you managed to whisper as you kept panting.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung immediately replied, a small hint of guilt hidden in his husky voice.

“For giving me the best orgasm of my life?” You breathed out, chuckling. The post-orgasm high made you feel like jelly.

He laughed. The sound warming your chest and also helping you to calm down quickly.

“Did I hurt you?” Heeseung questioned with concern, looking at you.

You shook your head in response and he smiled. Your hooded eyes followed Heeseung’s gorgeous figure, going quickly to the bathroom to discard the condom and back to the bed, laying down next to you.

“I wasn’t planning on going that hard with you at first, but–”

“Yes, you were.” You interrupted with a playful smile. “And I’m glad you did. It was amazing, Heeseung,” the compliment slipped out of your mouth with ease as you caressed his hair and then his face.

Heeseung let out what sounded like a relieved sigh, as he pressed a peck on your cheek, then the corner of your lips before sucking your lower lip and kissing you properly. 

“It was my pleasure, Y/N.” He whispered against your mouth, kissing you again with a sweetness that seemed impossible after what just happened, but you knew it was real, because he offered you the same tenderness since day one through his eyes.

You found yourself snuggling on his chest and he hugged you warmly. There was something in Heeseung's acts that exhaled intimacy in a way it scared you, knowing deep down if he kept treating you like that, you would inevitably grow attached to his presence. 

You got lost in your thoughts for a while, torn in between the warmth of his body touching you with care and the sinking feeling of his inevitable departure. Although Heeseung seemed to be an amazing man, nothing would stop him from simply leaving, especially when there was no mention of commitment from any of you or whatsoever.

Nonetheless, Heeseung's connection with you appeared to grow stronger each second you spent together, because his first words after the long silence were “Can I get your number?”

You lifted your head from his torso, a bit flabbergasted by his sudden, unexpected question. You had to blink a few times and watch his bambi eyes show you curiosity with your reaction to know he wasn’t messing around. 

“Sure. If you promise not to leak it out.” The only answer he offered you was his pinky for a pinky promise, to which you took in with a serious face. “You can’t break it, yeah?” And he laughed.

“Cross my heart, I won’t.”

The following three days felt like something in between a k-drama and a fever dream – too perfect to feel real. 

Heeseung had work during the mornings and the afternoons, meaning he couldn’t be with you the whole day – unwillingly, of course. To which you thought it was great, since it allowed you to hang out with Yunjin and Jay, and also to concentrate on your job, rehearsing for the next performances alongside your castmates, warming up your vocals with your teacher, re-reading the lines just in case. 

However, the anticipation tightened in your stomach with every buzz of your phone with a notification, heart racing reading Heeseung’s name on the screen. 

“I wanna see you soon.” “Can’t wait for tonight.” “Missing your pretty face, ngl.”

His simple texts did no good to help your inner battle, nor his perfect mannerism for caring about your health, your voice, your sleeping, the small things that sometimes neither you cared that much.

The fear of getting attached extremely fast to someone and having your heart broken was almost suffocating, and somehow Heeseung managed to wipe your thoughts away within every encounter.

There weren’t too many after the night you spent together, but each had a distinctive situation that deepened your connection.

Monday, he picked you up at your hotel after work for a small dinner at his favorite restaurant. You found yourself thirsting over his extremely good looking figure when he showed up in a simple, yet mesmerizing black button-down shirt with the first three buttons undone revealing a hint of his tanned skin beneath, and his usual heart-melting smile.

“Ready for tonight?” He asked you with a beaming face that filled your heart with warmth and a cocky grin that later on, led you to ride his dick until your legs burned after you both reached the chosen hotel for the night. 

You were nothing but astonished with how deeply invested you got in Heeseung, longing for his presence every minute. The chemistry between you both was electric, the sexual tension almost palpable pairing in the air, blended perfectly with the easygoing atmosphere you always shared. Heeseung fulfilled your desires easily, as though he was reading his favorite book – you – knowing every line by heart. 

The second time you met was in the middle the following day, when he decided to spend his lunch hour with you, sharing a meal as you casually chatted about everything. Heeseung had a comforting way of listening to you with softened and attentive eyes, nodding along, occasionally adding his own point of view with a relaxed charm. Not to mention how smart he sounded as he talked with his soft tone and how beautiful his laughter sounded when he genuinely enjoyed a joke. 

“I didn’t know you enjoyed cooking that much,” he remarked at some point, his eyes lightening up after you shared your hobby of experimenting out new foods just to get their recipes and try doing it by yourself in your kitchen every once and a while during your free time.

You had no idea connections could be developed so quickly with someone as you did with Heeseung, how your energies and personalities complemented in a way that made every interaction feel effortless, as if words didn’t needed to be fully spoken in order to understand each other.

Later the same day, Heeseung met you at night again. He timidly admitted he hadn’t prepared much for the evening, but ended up making you the happiest woman on the earth by driving you both to a dinosaur museum exhibition after learning your fascination with them.

As you explored the exhibit, your eyes sparkled with excitement, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smile at your enthusiasm. You animatedly explained the different species ignoring completely the small text next to every skeleton – Heeseung doing the same, since listening to your voice sounded way more interesting than reading.

Your tone raised with joy as you pointed out the massive skeleton of the stegosaurus, eyes gleaming with love, your big smile making Heeseung’s heart falter some beats. 

“You look so cute,” Heeseung said, chuckling softly, his hands hidden in his jacket’s pocket while tenderly watching you bouncing on your feet.

You beamed back at him. “It’s so interesting and cool to imagine those big boys walking on earth before us. Like, we are not literally, but somehow stepping on places they once stepped too.”

Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your glowing figure and at that moment, he recognized. He fell in love with you.

Not only for the talented actress on the stage, the amazing singer with an angelic voice, the famous performer who loved her fans with her whole heart.

Heeseung fell mainly for the genuine, happy, confident and warm woman in front of him. The one who easily sent chills through his spine just for laughing at his stupid jokes. The one who made the air thicker with her strong presence, just to stumble on her own legs and chuckle at it. The one who knew what she wanted and how she wanted. The one who secretly shared she was good at painting and handicrafts. 

He could spend nights in hotel rooms hearing your moans and pants, feeling your intimate touches, kissing you mouth and any other place on your body he wanted to, but nothing compared to the fulfillment feeling spreading inside his chest when seeing you so pure, with raw emotions like that. 

That night ended up like a date. He left you at your hotel and went home after kissing you slowly and tenderly at the entrance of the building, wishing you a good night's sleep and for you to take care.

It was your last day in Seoul before heading to the next city with the musical, and the bittersweet feeling weighed heavily on your heart. You were struggling with the drowning sentiment of leaving Heeseung behind, the idea of not knowing when, or even if he wanted to keep on seeing you made the lump in your throat hard to swallow.

Your insecurities grew heavier each second before the encounter. You hoped for Heeseung to come up with the sweet sorrow and necessary conversation first, since your messy, anxious thoughts did nothing to help you go through it without assuming the worst.

“Hi, pretty.” His sudden appearance startled you, drawing your gaze from the distant random point on the street you were staring at. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, his hands finding their comfort place on your waist, grounding you.

A smile spreads across your face, eyes brightening up with relief.

“Hi.” You greeted back, leaning to kiss him on the lips, pouring all the affection you felt into that simple gesture. 

You wished Heeseung could sense how deep you were falling for him, quickly becoming a vital part of your daily life in such a small amount of time.

“Are you okay?” He asked with concern, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You seemed a bit oblivious.”

You shook your head, not only as a response to his question but to wipe away your confused thoughts. 

“I’m better now.” You said, which wasn’t a lie.

“Great,” Heeseung whispered with a smile against your head before kissing the top of it and then held your hand to walk you to his car. “I’ve prepared something different for today.” He said with a cheekily grin, the playful glint on his gaze making you squint your eyes, suspicious. He laughed at your reaction, then you quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, curiosity instantly replacing your melancholic inner thoughts.

“I hope you like it.” He kissed the back of your hand before opening the car door for you to enter.

The drive was calm, Heeseung eased your mind without even noticing he did. Just the smell of his cologne and his warm touches on your thigh whenever he stopped at a red light, and the habitual chatting that got you invested with ease worked perfectly to sooth you. 

At some point Heeseung nonchalantly revealed he was applying to switch to work remotely, and you genuinely cheered since for the last few days he complained about the amount of hours he had to drive, and the home-office modality helped him to have more free time. 

His own information faded out by himself in the following conversation as he changed topics, you barely noticed his sly expression whenever he glimpsed at your yapping figure, gesturing about how annoyed you felt when you had to do group work during your college. 

“What’s that?” Your eyes sparkled with the colorful atmosphere you were approaching, your whole body perking up as you watched some stalls passing by the window as Heeseung searched for a place to park.

Heeseung chuckled, drifting his eyes between the road and you, but not answering your question.

Then the realization hits. You shot Heeseung with one of your bright smiles, that got him almost giggling just by seeing it.

“You’re insane.”

“I thought it could be a good place for you to learn some recipes.”

And just like that, you fell even harder for him.

Heeseung took you to a cozy outdoor market filled with food stalls, a few street foods trucks and local artisans. The atmosphere was lively, with music playing in the background and laughter echoing around you.

As you stepped out of the car with his help, the scents of diverse foods flooded your airways and you almost groaned with pleasure, your stomach growling with hunger as your mouth watered. 

Heeseung held your hand the whole time you wandered from stall to stall, not even knowing where to start, but sampling everything from savory snacks to sweet treats, your senses dancing with the flavors and scents, doing some random love shots with Heeseung. 

He didn’t complained a second about the constant walking. To watch you lose yourself while tasting things, making pleasant frowns and doing little dances whenever you liked something, paid back any sore he would have to deal with on the next day.

Some people recognized you, asking for a picture to which you politely declined, and Heeseung instantly gave you a confused look, since you usually made time to give them a little attention.

You searched for a free table for you both to sit, and as you stared at the three delicious small dishes in front of you not knowing which one to prove first, Heeseung spoke up.

“Isn’t that your favorite?” And then he pointed to the tteokbokki, after reading your indecisive frown, biting his own food. “Start with this one.”

You looked up at him with shock, then your gaze softened. It was Heeseung after all, the man who paid attention to every detail of you. However, your still pulse increased, your cheeks heating. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke the silence after a while again, and you nodded. “Is there a reason for you to refuse to take pictures with your fans today?” 

The question sounded curious, genuine at it most, free from the weight of any judgments. Heeseung was trying to understand your decision rather than impose his opinion on it.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” you explained softly, wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

He tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing. “How does that make me uncomfortable?” 

You shrugged, taking a bite of your corn dog before answering. “I don’t know. People who hang out with me that aren’t from my area often don't feel comfortable whenever I stop to talk to my fans.”

Heeseung raised his eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the revelation. Of course people had their rights of being uncomfortable with certain situations, however, being friends with you meant knowing your personality and how much you enjoyed those small interactions. So it sounded a bit odd to hear you say that.

“Well, I don’t mind at all.” He said with a gentle smile. “Actually, it’s sweet to see you interacting with them.” 

Your lips curved into a genuine smile at Heeseung’s reassuring words, especially because at some point he was a fan of yours, so to hear his mind on that conversation hit slightly deeper.

“Thanks, it means a lot.” You mumbled. “But if you ever feel awkwardly left out–

“No.” He shushed you with a portion of his food, shoving into your mouth with a playful laugh, making you roll your eyes and giggle.

The rest of the night went as comfortably as possible, filled with laughter and playful teasing moments. The thought of your departure on the next day haunted both of you, but you managed to brush away whenever your eyes met, the atmosphere softening again. 

After you finished eating and drinking, Heeseung guided you to a quiet, secluded spot near the market. It was a small lake in the middle of a park, where a few other couples shared intimate affection as well.

Heeseung wrapped his arms around you from behind as you held on the railing overlooking the water. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm and soothing embrace caused a heavy sigh to escape your lips, and tears began to sting the corner of your eyes.

“You know, it's always good to come back home.” You murmured, voice tinged with nostalgia while you admired the peaceful view. Gently resting your back on Heeseung’s chest, you added. “And it's always bittersweet when I have to leave.” Your voice got stuck in your throat, heart pounding in uncertainty for your following days. “It became so much harder to leave now, Heeseung.” You admitted with a trembling voice, the tears quietly slipping down your cheeks

You felt Heeseung’s sweet lips touching your neck to place a gentle kiss before he turned you to face him. Kind hands caressing your face, cozy eyes eveloping your words with warmth and understanding. You felt loved. And it was hurting so much.

Heeseung cleaned your tears with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to your eyelids afterward.

“We can find a way,” he whispered, his own voice failing to stay steady. “I’m too attached to you at this point.” He admitted with a shy smile. “I know I said I’d make your days unforgettable, but now I’m the one who is unable to forget you. And I don’t want to even try forgetting you.”

A wave of relief rushed your body, happy for being on the same page, glad that Heeseung listened to you, overjoyed he shared similar feelings. You sobbed, snuggling closer to his body in order to feel him more, burying your face on his neck, the scent making you cry even harder. 

Heeseung hugged you tightly, yet, gently, his arms involving you in a fond, safe bubble.

“I can visit you during my free time,” he said to reassure you.

“I’ll come to visit you too.” Your voice came out muffled due to your position, so you reluctantly pulled away from his embrace to search for his eyes. They were red, as if he was holding back his own tears. “I mean, I don’t live too far from here, the problem is my work–”

Heeseung silenced you by attaching his lips on yours, not wanting to hear your “but’s” and worries at the moment. He wanted to envision a good future for both of you, and also he was taking advantage to kiss you once more.

The shared touch was laced with an anticipated longing, slow and bittersweet, still full of affection. Your breath hitched while mingling with the soft sounds of contentment, hands exploring each other’s bodies, cherishing every inch before the inevitable departure of yours.

“I’m afraid you won’t get used to my work,” you whispered, relieving one of your biggest insecurities when Heeseung broke the contact to catch his breath.

“What do you mean?” He asked, slightly breathless, mind hazy from your kiss. God, he really wished you both managed a way to get back together, if not he would go insane without your sweet lips.

“It’s a demanding job, as you know.” You explained, playing with his ear lobe. Heeseung closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “I’m always traveling, I’m always going to places, constantly on the move… Even visiting can be difficult.”

“I know,” he replied softly, still not exactly understanding your full point. Yes, he would miss you, but he was sure it could be managed.

Despite, from the start he knew you were a busy woman, barely having time to yourself as you told him a few times. And he was willing to adjust some things in his life if that meant having you by his side. 

Heeseung didn’t said anything more, making you wonder. Would he back off after all of that? Or that meant he was fully devoted?

“And it doesn’t bother you?” You asked. 

“No,” he replied sincerely, opening his eyes just to lock them onto yours, as he brushed a little strand of hair from your face before he cupped one of your cheeks. “It’ll not. If you promise you’ll always come back to me.”

And you would. After all, by the end of the day, all you could see was his eyes only.

Heeseung grew attached to watch you. Not only when owning the stage and captivating the audience with your talented acting skills, but in any other moment as well.

His eyes followed your every move, from the moment you frowned while waking up to the moment you fell on his arms, panting after him fucking you hard.

Yeah, you both managed ways of getting back together, with his now remote work, traveling around with you became easy. He missed his friends every once, and that led you both to constantly go back to Seoul and spend some days visiting, especially to see Jake and Sunoo, who freaked out when he discovered – through instagram! – his friends were dating one of his biggest inspirations. 

Now, in your brand new purchased shared apartment, Heeseung eyes tracked you wetting your lips while humming the melody of your upcoming musical, while doing some work on your computer. It was a routine he definitely could get used to.

And as always, you felt the sweet weight of his gaze, smiling even before searching for him.

“What?” you asked, laughing at how Heeseung positioned himself beside you on the couch; his cheek resting on his hand, elbow propped on the armrest, as he shot you a lovestruck expression – soft smile and tender eyes. 

“I love you.” 

Months ago, those words would have taken you by surprise.

You remember vividly how flustered you became, heart racing, stuttering on your own words, unable to cohesively say anything back. Heeseung joked about how an amazing actress managed to lose composure and not talk like that, and after you slapped his shoulder playfully, you kissed him passionately, mumbling what could have been a ‘I love you too’.

This time it didn’t surprise you, still, left you momentarily speechless. You would never get used to the electrifying wave washing over your body whenever you heard Heeseung declaring his love for you.

Just like you always did, you felt the heat rising to your cheeks under his intense gaze. Closing your computer, you leaned closer, settling yourself comfortably on his lap.

“I love you too, Hee,” you replied softly and sincerely.

You smiled, before kissing him.

Heeseung’s embrace was your heaven. Heeseung’s lips were your hell. And in between that, he kept his eyes on you. Always.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[mattscoquette]

warning this blurb contains mentions of the reader struggling with an eating disorder! please do not read if you are sensitive to the topic. if you are struggling with an ed please don't be afraid to ever reach out for help! remember u are loved <3 enjoy

your eyes slowly raked across matt’s figure as he moved from the refrigerator to the table, sitting in the spot next to you. he slowly slid the plate in between the both of you, your eyes widening at the sandwich in front of you that he cut in half.

about a month ago, you’d had a breakdown in matt’s bathroom when he’d found out you were throwing up all of your food after every time you ate. this led the both of you to have an all-night conversation about you coming clean about having an eating disorder. you could never keep what little food you’d eat down, and were making excuses to never eat around matt. when you’d told him, he spent the entire night holding you in his arms as you cried, promising to help you every step of the way. you started seeing a therapist, who suggested making little food dates as often as you could with matt. at first you were hesitant, starting slow and working your way up.

this, however, was the first time matt ever made a sandwich. you couldn’t even remember the last time you ate a sandwich, and you began to felt yourself panic.

“hey, hey,” matt’s gentle voice broke you from your thoughts, sensing your worry, “baby, look at me.”

you looked up at him defeatedly. “matty i don’t think i can do it.”

he slowly brought his hand to your jaw, running his thumb across your cheek as he kissed your forehead. “why not, pretty girl? talk to me.”

you looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. “it’s a lot of food,” you said quietly, “i don’t think i can eat it.”

he sighed softly, tilting your chin up, looking at you with a small smile. “i’ll be right here with you the whole time, okay? i’ll even have a little bit if it makes you feel better.”

“are you sure?” you asked sheepishly, turning your head to shake his hand away as you sighed. “i feel bad making you take care of me like this.”

“don’t say that,” he murmured, tilting your face to look at him once more, “there is nothing i want more than to make sure you are happy and healthy, do you understand?”

you nodded up at him.

“and i’m so happy you trust me enough to help you, because i want to help. i want you to feel good about yourself and be happy.” he told you, soft but firm.

you bit your lip, feeling tears begin to well up as you nodded again. matt sighed, pulling you into a hug and kissing the side of your head repeatedly. “when i tell you i love you, i mean it. i don’t ever want you forgetting it, okay?”

“okay,” you snuffled, pulling away from matt, wiping a couple tears away, “thank you. i love you too.”

matt smiled, kissing your forehead. “i love you more pretty girl.”

inspired by this post from my inbox!

© mattscoquette

[eudaimaniacs]

cherry (old! logan howlett x female reader)

character/universe: logan howlett/wolverine (x-men/marvel)

word count: 1.7k words

warning/s: full-on smut (minors, dni). loss of virginity and age gap

notes: i have a headache from swimming yesterday but still managed to finish this in a day (so it's not proofread). i have tons of requirements to do so i may do an occasional small imagine once in a while. anyways, enjoy!

You started dating Logan six months ago, and when the conversation about sex came up, you shamefully admitted that you're still a virgin. You didn't want to look like a little girl to the older man since you knew that he had dated and slept with numerous women in the past. When you let out those three words of truth, you expected him to break up with you. However, Logan smirked and remarked how he hadn't fucked a virgin for a long time.

So, it was a matter of waiting for you to lose your virginity to Logan.

You went to your close friends for sex advice. They weren't experienced with the topic but teased that you're going to fuck an old, attractive man. With a few good luck, you readied yourself for the day Logan will take your virginity. You didn't bother searching online since watching porn made you cringe. Additionally, the boys you dated were either clueless or too eager only fuck you. Logan wasn't like them; he cared and didn't date you because you were innocent and pretty.

One night, when you stayed at Logan's house, you decided to lose your virginity finally. You wore a white lace-trimmed tank top with black pajama shorts. You used the cherry lipgloss you bought for this occasion to make the night extra special. Logan donned the wifebeater tank top you loved. His salt-and-pepper hair and beard made him extra sexy, or maybe it was the age gap.

You two cuddled on the queen-sized bed you cleaned before this night. The softness of the pillows and the blankets didn't lessen your anxiety. With you touching his chest and Logan snaking his hand around your waist, you waited for the opportunity to bring up the conversation about sex again.

"Logan, honey? I have something to ask you," you whispered as you scratched his chin.

The older man hummed in agreement as he waited for your question.

Finding the right words, you blurted out, "Are you ready to have sex with me tonight?" With wide eyes and a beating heart, you hoped Logan wouldn't notice your nervousness.

He chuckled and kissed your cheek. Logan remarked, "I'm ready when you are, princess."

Your gaze softened as Logan agreed to have sex with you. However, it dawned on you that you didn't know how to start. Were you supposed to pleasure Logan first, or is he the one who should do it first? Should you take off your clothes when does it too? Who goes first? Who comes second? Your mind raced with the inexperience you didn't bother to fix.

"What's the matter, [Y/N]?" Logan noticed that you weren't taking action. You didn't want to admit you didn't know what to do. What if Logan wasn't attracted to your inexperience? What if he hated how awkward you are at initiating sex?

You took a deep breath before admitting to Logan, "I'm n-not too s-s-sure what to do, Logan. I tried to, you know, do my research about sex. S-so I'm sorry if I seem to be aw-"

Logan cut you off before finishing to tell him the truth. He sat up and rested on the headboard. The older man commanded you to take a seat on his lap. You quickly followed and rested your head on his chest. The beat of his heart assured you that Logan would be understanding about your anxiety about sex.

"It's okay, [Y/N]. You don't have to worry about having sex for the first time. I'm here to guide you. Remember when I told you how I hadn't fucked a virgin for a long time? I want your first time to be special, [Y/N]," Logan softly whispered as he caressed your back to relieve you.

You giggled and raised your head to kiss his neck gently. Logan chuckled at your sudden, playful attitude after assuring you everything would be okay. You pushed up your chest against his, and the older man seethed as he saw your breasts.

"Look at you now. You're now teasing me with your boobs. I thought you were nervous," Logan chuckled as he massaged your butt. You gave him a beck before replying, "Maybe you cast a spell on me, honey. I got a bit fired up with that sweet talk you did."

Logan lifted your chin and saw your glossy eyes accompanied by the cherry lipgloss. Your innocence, mixed with playfulness and the cute face and outfit you had, made Logan's heart race. He couldn't believe that you trusted him to be your first time. His rough, veiny hands caress your shoulder as he toys with the thin strap of your top. Your breath hitched up at the older man's soft and sensual action. You touched his chest to support yourself and felt your pussy wanting to be touched.

You slowly rubbed your clothed vagina on his black denim jeans as Logan went under your top to grope your breasts. You let out a shaky moan as you chased your high. Logan smirked as he saw your face contorting at the newfound pleasure.

"Let me do something, princess. Lay down for me," Logan grabbed your thighs, leading you to stop rubbing your pussy against his jeans. You were unsatisfied that he prevented you from chasing your climax. However, you were equally excited about what he would do next. You lay down on the bed as Logan told you and waited for his following action.

Logan kneeled at the end of the bed and asked, "May I take off your shorts, princess?" His rough hands caress the softness of your covered thighs. You slowly nodded, not wanting to keep Logan waiting for your response. He chuckled and reassured you that he would always be patient with you. You felt Logan sliding off your black pajama shorts, and you lifted your legs for him to take it off easier. The older man sucked his teeth as the sight of your lacy pink panties appeared.

Your heart was beating fast since you were one undergarment away from exposing your pussy. Logan pushed the fabric to the side and smelled your arousal. Sweet. He slowly circled your clit and licked your pussy to taste you. Logan moaned as he ate you; he wanted to do it fast as he had never tasted a virgin pussy before. However, knowing this was your first time, he took it slow. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation of Logan's tongue pleasuring you. You grabbed the bedsheets and screamed his name.

As you felt your stomach twisting, Logan stopped and wiped his lips coated with your arousal. You curved your eyebrows in disappointment as Logan continued teasing you. You whined about how he should stop it and remarked that you wanted to orgasm badly. Logan grabbed the hem of your tank top, telling you to take them off. He fondled your breasts and kissed you.

Logan shushed you and whispered, "I'm only prepping you, princess. I'm now going to give you the real thing." He stood up and unbuckled his belt for his massive penis to escape. You gasped at the length of it. How is it going to fit you? You were both hungry and scared of the enormous cock staring at you.

"Don't worry, [Y/N]. I'll take it slow, and you tell me if I need to take it out. Got it, princess?" Logan stared at your lust-filled eyes, waiting for your approval. You whispered a soft yes as you braced yourself for his length to push in. Logan grabbed your hips as he slowly entered inside of you. Your eyes suddenly opened at the foreign sensation penetrating you.

You let out a few tears but remained strong as you didn't want to embarrass yourself by tapping out. Logan saw it and whispered, "[Y/N], are you okay? Do I need to take it out?"

You shook your head and responded, "I'm okay, Lo. I need to adjust a bit to your length." Logan heartily chuckled as he rested his head beside your neck. You hugged his back and waited for the pain to subside. Taking a deep breath, you let out a small moan, signaling Logan to pick up the pace.

Logan started to thrust slowly and made sure that you weren't crying because of the pain. He lifted himself and pounded you. You grabbed his chest as you felt the shape of his dick molding your pussy. You screamed his name and told him how good it felt. Logan saw your bouncing tits and squeezed them.

"Lo-Logan, please kiss me. P-please, I need you to kiss me," you panted as you grasped the sheets. Logan leaned in to passionately kiss you. He tasted the sweetness of cherry lipgloss and let his tongue in. You scratch his back as you feel your high coming.

"I'm a-about to-fuck. I'm cumming, Logan!" You screamed as the older man quickened his pace to reach his high, too. You cried out pleasure as you felt his dick growing inside of you.

Logan hungrily kissed your neck and groaned at the sensation of your tightness. He went wild as he sensed his orgasm chasing him. You grabbed his hair to brace yourself from the immense pleasure coming.

"Let go, princess. Fuck, I'm close too. Come on, princess. Cum for me," Logan moaned as he quickly pounded for the two of you to release. You felt a wave of pleasure crashing over you as Logan did one effective thrust. You screamed out his name as your legs went numb at the pleasure.

Logan stayed inside of you as he released his cum inside of you. He pulled out to see the sheets stained with blood and your once-virgin pussy leaking with his cum. The older man kissed your forehead and grabbed a towel at your dresser to clean you up.

"How was it, princess? Was it good?" Logan asked as he gently wiped your thighs. You sat and rested your head on the board to look at him better.

You giggled and replied, "That was the best, Logan. I couldn't have asked for anything better." He softly grinned and leaned in to give you a soft, deep kiss. Logan savored the sweet taste of the cherry lipgloss. You hummed as he continued kissing you. And as the night became darker, the two of you slept soundly as the imprint of your gloss and virginity marked Logan and his warm cum filling you.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

[emmyrosee]

Fluffy fluffy prompt to hubby sukuna or whom ever you choose “awnn my poor baby come here” then he slowly walks towards you rubbing his eyes all soft and tired 🥺

There’s a low grumble behind you that snaps you out of your slicing of fruit, but you merely brush it off before moving onto the next strawberry.

Then, the grumble ripples through the air again, and you keep slicing, trying your best to ignore the noise.

It happens a third time. You giggle, “what, baby?” You put the knife down and turn to face Sukuna, arms crossing over your chest as you look him up and down.

He looks childish, with the comforter wrapped around his shoulders and hair ruffled around messily. His eyes are puffy from sleep and his cheeks hold a little flush, but his lips are still pouted in a scowl. “You left me alone in bed,” he grumbles. “I told you not to do that. Bed gets too cold.”

“Is that the only reason you don’t like me leaving the bed?” You ask, knowing the real answer. But you also know he’ll never say it. He’s stubborn like that.

He offers you a roll of his eyes, “yes, and I hate the cold. You’re aware of this.”

“My poor baby,” you tease, opening your arms for him to shamble into. “C’mere. Let me warm you back up from the mean, evil, cold covers.”

“You’d better,” he murmurs, stalking towards you and into your arms. He opens his own to reveal the corners of the blanket balled into his big fists, and when he embraces you, you’re shrouded in darkness but melting into the warmth that his chest brews. Your laugh softly, and burrow into his chest, which rumbles with a hum in confusion. "Somethin' funny under there?"

"Just dark," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist and gently squeezing him out of cute aggression. "I also can't really breathe, so-"

"Good," he says, resting his head on top of yours, tightening his arms to keep you in place. "Won't have to deal with your ass leaving the bed, messing up my sleep." You laugh some more, only to send a few pokes to his waist, making him jerk away from you and loosen his hold.

"Who's gonna cuddle you at night then?"

"I'm a man, I don't need cuddles."

When you do, however, try to get out of his arms, he grumbles and pulls you tighter again, with an annoyed grunt. "No."

"That's what I thought, Sukuna."

[rqnarok]

MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. power dynamics. cnc. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 

You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 

This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 

The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.

But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.

The lack of attention and affection.

Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 

All bare and worn out.

You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 

The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  

It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.

That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.

What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”

And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 

On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 

You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 

But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 

He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 

What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 

The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  

By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 

“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.

Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 

“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.

You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 

“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 

Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 

After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.

Something’s up. 

“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 

He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 

The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”

When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 

You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”

He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ you old man?”

“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.

Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 

He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 

He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 

Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 

“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 

“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.

You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 

The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 

“Where d’ya want me?”

You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

In fact, you don’t even know anything…

“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 

No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 

You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 

So then,

“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 

Bingo. 

Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.

He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 

“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 

Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 

“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  

“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 

“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.

“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 

Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 

This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 

He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 

And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 

He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 

“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 

Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.

It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.

You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 

He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”

“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.

Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.

“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”

What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 

His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.

“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 

“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 

Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.

He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 

“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”

And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.

He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.

You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.

Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won.