#he missed his chance to be friends with the one guy he had the most in common with

[thememestrider]

40k Sfw Alphabet - Vulkan

I'm pretty new to 40k tumblr, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm yet to see many sfw/nsfw alphabets for our men, and I don't think I've seen any for the primarchs. As a big fan of the alphabets, I thought I'd do some; for my own enjoyment more than anything, but I'm hoping some of you guys will enjoy them too :)

I'm kicking off the biggest, strongest and most huggable of the primarchs: Vulkan.

Apologies for typos and ooc/lore inaccuracies

Please enjoy

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think it goes without saying that Vulkan would be a very affectionate partner. He wears his heart on his sleeve and unlike many of his brothers, he's not one to hide or suppress his emotions. If he loves someone, he will want them to know it and he will want everyone else around to know it. Everyday. All the time. Without missing a beat.

Vulkan would show his affection visibly through physical touch, gestures and by saying it outright. Everyday, he will say "I love you". Every chance he gets, he's going to have a hand on you, be it touching your thigh when you're both seated at a meeting or resting his hand on your lower back while walking the halls of his flagship.

B - Best friend (What are they like as a friend? How would the friendship start?)

Vulkan is be the ultimate emotional-support bestie. This isn't even a head cannon: this is lore-accurate fact. When he reunited with Rogal Dorn, he gave him a hug. Before the Heresy, he believed in trying to redeem Konrad Curze. He is the most empathetic and emotionally intelligent of the primarchs, and all everybody knows it. As a friend, he'd be damn-near perfect.

As for how your friendship would start, I think it'd be pretty easy/straightforward. Right from the start, you'd feel how good the vibes around this man were and he'd feel the same way. You two would just click right away. It'd start with a simple conversation- maybe you bumped into each other at some political event, or maybe you met on the training grounds and wound up sparring or training together. From there, your friendship would only grow, and it would last for the rest of your lives.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Is it just me or does it feel like a lot of these are almost self explanatory? OF COURSE Vulkan likes to cuddle. When you are in his arms, he knows you are safe. He knows you feel loved. And, as I very much see his love language being physical touch, cuddles make HIM feel loved.

He has no preference as to how you two cuddle- just whatever you prefer. He does like it when you lay atop his chest, where he can lay his arms across your back, hold you like a comforter, and keep you both warm.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

At his core, Vulkan is a protector. A builder. So having a place where he can feel secure and be at peace isn't just something he would want; it's something he needs. And when you become a part of his life, this need would only grow deeper.

Since Vulkan is a black-smith, and therefore already apt at building and using his hands (wink) I can see him being a skilled cook. He'd love cooking for you, too- it's another way he can show how much he loves you.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Of all the primarchs, Vulkan would be the best to have a break up with. As mentioned earlier, he is extremely empathetic and he has very good emotional intelligence. If he were to break up with you, it'd be with an in-person conversation where he explains how he feels and let's you down very, very gently. If you were to break up with him, he would understand, and try to ensure that you both part on good terms. However, behind closed doors, he'd be heart broken and he would grieve the loss of your relationship deeply and agonisingly.

F - Fiancé (How to they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Commitment goes hand-in-hand with loyalty, and Vulkan is one of the most loyal men out there. As soon as he knows he loves you, he's going to want to keep you. He wants you to be his, and he wants to be yours.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally?)

Do I really need to answer this?

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Again- do I really need to answer this?

I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I could see him saying it pretty quickly, what with how quickly and stronglyI see you both bonding emotionally. With how intune he is with his feelings, I think he'd recognise fairly quickly that what he feels for you is love and that you need to know it- if not to be in a relationship with you, then at least to give you a heads up in case you didn't feel the same way.

J - Jealous (How jealous do they get? What are they like when they're jealous?)

Vulkan is loyal. He trusts you as much as he hopes you trusts him. As such, he doesn't get jealous- he doesn't feel he has any reason to be.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Long, deep and absolutely brimming with love. Gentle, too. Even in more passionate moments, he'd never hurt you, not even by accident. He likes to kiss you on the lips, mainly, as he considers that to be the most emotionally intimate. That said, he does enjoy it when, while laying on top of him, you kiss him down his neck and along his collarbones.

L - Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Vulkan is maybe the only primarch who is 100% perfect with children. He's just the sweetest man there ever was. I think he'd like the idea of having children, too, but only if it was what you wanted. If you didn't want kids, he wouldn't push the issue.

M - Mornings (How are morning spent with them?)

Slow and sleepy. Neither of you would want to get up. Vulkan, in particular, would simply love to spend the entire day holding you, dozing off to the feeling of your body pressed against his.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He's definitely falling asleep with his arms around you. Either spooning you from behind or holding you across his chest like a blanket.

O - Openess (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal things slowly over time or all at once?)

As soon as it's clear how much you two click, Vulkan will begin to open up to you. Slowly at first so as not to overwhelm you, and from there, at about the same rate you feel comfortable opening up with him. I think he'd really dislike it if you kept things from him, too. Your happiness is his number one concern, and the idea that you didn't feel comfortable or safe telling him something would distress him very much.

P - Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Already, Vulkan has the patience of a saint. But with you? It's damn-near infinite. It might be thinner if he's stressed or worn down, but if he snaps at you or says something a little too sharp, he will realise immediately and apologise right away.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail or do they forget the minor things?)

You're the most important thing in this man's life, of course he's going to remember everything about you. Moreover, he's going to use that knowledge for the gifts he crafts for you in his forge. Did you once mention off-handed that daisies were your favourite flower? Don't be surprised if the next day, you find a box with a daisy pendant left for you on your duchess. You mention how much you'd love a pet to keep you company while he's away crusading? Vulkan's going to get you a kitten or a puppy the next day- and he'll know which to get you, because he'll remember whether you're a cat person or a dog person.

R - Remember (What's their favourite memory of the relationship?)

I thought long and hard about this for a while, but honestly I struggled to come up with a specific example. Maybe you guys tell me in the comments or the reblogs what you think it might be, based on how you'd imagine your relationship with Vulkan.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Because you're a human, Vulkan would be very physically protective of you. He would want you living as far from any war as was possible, and even then, wherever you would end up living would be heavily defended by his legion. I could see him keeping you on Nocturne or Prometheus, as they are his and his sons' homeworlds, but both those places are very hostile in of themselves (Im pretty sure Nocturne is even considered a Death World), so maybe he'd set you up on a peaceful pleasure world or something of the like; overseen by a regiment of Salamanders, of course.

Vulkan is not only the largest primarch, but he's one of the most capable in combat. He's also a perpetual, and therefore functionally immortal. For these reasons, he doesn't need much physical protection- at least none of the kind you might be able to offer. But on the other hand, Vulkan absolutely needs something to guard his heart. He is a deeply emotional man and is very sensitive to grief and the suffering of others. When he looses his sons in combat or fails to save innocents from death, he will need your comfort. He'll need you to hold him tight, maybe even offer your shoulder for him to cry on. He'll need your assurance and your unconditional love. Of course, all of these things you're more than happy to give. As much as he needs and more.

T - Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts and everyday tasks?)

Vulkan would love nothing more than to go all out with all of these things a the time, but the demands of war and his duties as a primarch make it difficult to consistently. When he has the time, he will absolutely spoil you.

Regardless of how busy he is, you would always be receiving many, many gifts- jewellery, ornaments and cute, personalised knick-knacks that hand crafted by Vulkan in his forge.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

If you're not careful, his protectiveness over you could start to feel overwhelming, especially during the events of the Heresy. Additionally, his desire to tend to your every emotional need may lead to you feeling smothered. But the moment you tell him how you're feeling, Vulkan would listen. He might slip back into those habits every now and then, but again, with time and good communication, he would eventually change for the better. Doesn't mean he'll stop protecting you, though- it just means he'll be less overt about it.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Vulkan is about the humblest man you could ever meet- vanity isn't a word in his vocabulary.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Without question.

X - Xtra (A random head cannon for them)

The Salamanders would revere you just as much as they do their father. They'd see you as their parent, and they'd hope that you would see them as your sons. Being assigned to your personal guard would be among their greatest honours, and you would come to know every marine on your guard personally. When it was their turn to return to Nocturne to see their families, you might even come along, for if the Salamanders are your sons, their families are your families as well.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like in a partner, or in general?)

Arrogance, a lack of empathy, selfishness and anything synonymous with those three things.

Z - Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

Despite appearances, I can see Vulkan struggling with insomnia and even nightmares, purely because he's such a sensitive man thrust into the most brutal and horrific wars. The insomnia would ease the moment he had you to hold at night, but his nightmares would take longer to fade. If he wakes up in a state, gasping for air and drenched in sweat, he will need you to comfort him- to listen as he talks through what he saw. To cradle his head or hold him him around the waist as he drifts back to sleep. This will become even more frequent following his torture at the hands of Curze.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends, Viktor." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

✦﹒previous chapter 　　　　　　 ✦﹒next chapter

[zehl0w]

Very messy scribble of a comic because they were on my mind (I doubt I’ll ever clean it up so I’m just posting it now so it doesn’t rot in my procreate files LOL)

[chastiefoul]

“my wife” ft. nanami kento

in which the married man nanami kento cannot stop using every single excuse to call you his wife. he just can’t help it, it sounds really nice.

at the bakery, instead of looking for it he went to the counter to ask, “excuse me, do you have whole wheat bread? my wife prefers that over the plain one.” was there a reason for him to mention you? nope. is he going to to it again? absolutely.

he now brings home cooked lunch to work. the man who usually dreads the small talk from his coworkers now becomes quite eager when they notice the bento and asked him about it. “my lunch looks great? thank you. my wife cooked this for me.”

or when it’s after hours and there’s random talk amongst the workers such as places to visit on vacation. “these are really good recommendations, i’ll have to visit them with my wife if i have the chance.”

when he’s on grocery shop duty after work when you asked him to buy something from the market. kento tasted the one of the sample food and perked up, for two reasons. reason one is that he finds something you’d like, second reason, “where can i find more of this? my wife would love this.”

when a random stranger flirts with him and he didn’t miss a beat to say, “ah, you find me charming? thank you, my wife would agree.”

his phone would ring while he’s occupied in a work discussion and he had the slightest smile on his face as he stood up, “excuse me, my wife is calling.”

the way he always tried to insert you in every conversation even if the topic barely correlates to you. “i seriously almost drowned that day, the beach can be really dangerous,” one of his coworker said, finishing a story. and who would be able to know why kento felt the need to say, “my wife quite likes the beach.”

even in front of mutual friends such as gojo, as he knew the both of you back from high school days. “let me ask my wife first if she wants to come.” oh now it’s gojo’s turn to roll his eyes after so many years he has tormented the blond man with his antics. “you know that i know ‘your wife’ right? that she’s my friend too?” nanami looked at him, “what’s your point?” he deadpanned.

on the most random time of the day, his mind wandered to you as always. “i miss my wife.”

-

guys i think he has a wife

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 kissing you numb ¡

pairing uncle¡rafe cameron x babysitter¡reader

summary babysitting sarah's baby wasn't a problem for you, not when her attractive uncle was around to keep you company, making it extremely hard for you to do your job.

contains fluff, brief sexual content, accidental kiss, making out, sexual tension, confessions (sort of), mutual pining, slightly suggestive towards the end, rafe being a tease, flustered reader, wc; 3.7k

a/n this was sosos fun to write sb had to do it ugh luv uncle rafe 37:$: i hope you guys enjoy hehe!! feel free to request if you wanna!

While managing your busy schedule was diffcult, babysitting was not the worst side-hustle. 

Besides the decent pay, you get to hang out with your friends, take care of baby Jackie, and spend more time with her hot uncle. 

That was not intended, nor was it apart of your plan, however, you were not one to complain. You were sure he knew, he definiltiy caught up on your attraction for him, whether it was the foolish grin that spread across your face, or the way you brighten up when he strikes a conversation. 

Rafe visits often, always using Jackie as an excuse to extend his stay. It would end with the little girl deep asleep, while you two chatted the night away. Most times, you had to force him out, leaving you no choice but to do so whenever his teasing gets too overwhleming for your well being. 

Now, you were well aware of how cocky the latter was, using every chance he gets to tease you over how flustered you grew whenever he, in the slightest bit, flirted with you. He would, out of the blue, drop the most gut-wrenching, bold statement known to earth, indicating that he might’ve been into you. 

However, you didn’t fall for it. You knew Rafe, Sarah would always tell you about him, and how much of a douche-bag (in her words) he was. He’s been with far too many girls for you to trust him, or go further with your feelings for him. 

People change, though, and Rafe might’ve been more desperate than you thought he’d be, implying that maybe, he was being sincere, and it’s not your delusions talking you into things. 

You perked up when you heard a sudden knock on the door, startling you out of your seat. Your attention shifted to Jackie, inserting the pacifier in her mouth before heading towards the entrance. A smile made its way across your lips, well aware of who was behind the door. 

You twisted the doorknob, a breath knocking out of your chest as you caught sight of Rafe, leaning against the wall while he awaited his welcome. A smirk spread across his lips, showcasing the single dimple on his cheek. 

You rolled your eyes, tilting your head to the side as your gaze shifted to Rafe, sighing when you noticed the cocky expression plastered on his face. You moved to the side, giving the boy enough space to squeeze through, to which he contently accepted, letting himself inside. 

“What’s good, m’lady?” He grinned, walking past you. “You miss me?” 

“I haven’t had the time to, Mr. Rafe Cameron.” You sarcastically responded, following behind him. “Weren't you just here yesterday?” 

“Hey, am I not allowed to visit my niece now?” He questioned, a dramatic gasp escaping his lips once he spotted the little girl. “There she is, my darling girl.”

You giggled, watching as Rafe approached Jackie, instantly scooping her in his arms. The little girl smiled at the sight of her uncle, reaching for his face with her little hands. He pecked the tips of her fingers, scrunching his face when she scratched him.

“You miss your uncle, baby?” His voice softened, barely above a whisper. “It was insufferable being with her, yeah?” 

“Hey!” You lightly slapped his arm, chin finding the blade of his shoulder, though you could barely maintain your composure with how tall he was. “She loves me.” 

“Mhm,” he glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a knowing grin. “I’m sure of that.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You dramatically gasped, observing as Rafe placed Jackie back in her crib. 

“Oh, Jackie baby, you’re adorable.” He gently rubbed her chin with his thumb, the gesture earning a wide smile out of the little girl. “Yeah, there you go, you like that?” 

“Mhm, I don’t think she does,” you playfulled responded, making yourself comfortable on the sofa, next to Rafe. “Right, baby? He’s a bit annoying, yeah?” 

“Don’t listen to her, Jackie.” Rafe chuckled, slightly turning to face you. “She’s trying to ruin our bond.” 

“Oh, hush.” You avoided his gaze, feeling goosebumps break out across your arms when your bare skin made contact with his. “Should we kick him out again? He’s been spending a concercing amount of time with us, don’t you think?” 

“Us?” He questioned, teasing hinted in his tone. “Who said I’m here for you? I’m only here for Jackie.” 

“Mhm, yeah sure.” You playfully replied, leaning back in your seat. 

Rafe turned to face you, smirking once he caught the flustered mess he had created out of you. He darted his tongue out to coat his lips with a layer of spit, turning towards Jackie with a scoff. 

“Okay, yeah maybe I’m here for her too.” Rafe started, veiling your presence. “Don’t tell her I said that, though. She’s a brat, she’ll probably never let it go.”  

“Shut up.” You muttered, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face. 

It usually stops here, you never go past that stage, brushing off his flirting as a joke, and shifting the attention back to Jackie. Either that, or Sarah and Johb B, therefore, you weren’t anticipating a response, nor anything that would stir up your emotions. 

“And what would you do to make me shut up?” He questioned, adjusting his position until he was manspreading. “I’m quite intrigued on what you might do.”  

Your heart skipped a beat at the flirtatious statement, the boldness in his voice knocking a breath out of your chest. You felt your mouth go dry as the boy turned in your direction, mind going hazy when your eyes locked with his. 

You could’ve sworn his eyes flickered to your lips, but that might’ve been your vision, because no way. Rafe Cameron? Not in a million years, you knew it was not happening, especially with how complicated things were. 

He was your friend’s brother, what were to happen if you did get together, and it eventually fell apart? That would create awkward tension between you and Sarah, therefore, you didn't want that, especially with how much you cherish the girl. 

However, you chose to take the risk, using the dim darkness seeping through the windows as an excuse for your response, although you know it was risky, tempting, could ruin whatever you had with Rafe, even if it was mere banter. 

“I can think of a few ways, actually.” Your voice dropped barely above a whisper, knee brushing over his leg. 

“Yeah?” He questioned, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Care to enlighten me, doll?” 

Your stomach stirred at the pet name, lips parting with an exhale. To say you were nervous was underestimating it. Rafe’s gaze burned holes through your skin, as well as the hand that lightly traced the blade of your shoulder, not much of help for your situation. 

You gulped, eyes trailing down to his lips, suddenly feeling desire wash over you, too wrapped up in your own head to think it through. However, before you could get a chance to do anything you could regret, Rafe suddenly turned his attention to Jackie, the action startling a sigh of relief out of you. 

You cleared your throat, attempting to maintain your cool as you admired Rafe while he played with Jackie, entertaining the little girl. She took liking into it, her smile wide on her lips as her fingers fiddled in the air, trying to reach for Rafe’s hand while he teasingly retrieved them from her touch. 

It was so adorable, the sight melting your heart, you weren’t able to contain the smile spreading across your lips. You knew of Rafe’s poor relationship with Sarah in the past, the boy distancing himself when they grew apart. Yet, here Rafe was, taking care of her daughter while she was away. It was endearing, to say the least. 

You leaned over his shoulder when you noticed Jackie dozing off, eyes widening as Rafe turned around, the gesture ceasing the distance between you as your lips collided with Rafe’s in a chaste kiss. Your breath knocked out of your chest, the sensation of his mouth against yours spiraling you over the edge. 

His lips were so soft, you lingered for a moment before letting realization wash over you, eventually returning back to reality. You pulled out with a small pop, attention shifting to Rafe, who remained in his position. 

A smirk leisurely tugged at his lips, eyes never leaving you as a hand came up to cover your mouth, disbelief visible on your face. Rafe’s teeth dug into his bottom lip, amused by how flustered you grew from besides him. 

“I– that was not intentional–” you stammered, face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and the desire of wanting more, even if it was for a mere second. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Rafe.” 

“It’s okay,” he snickered, “Why are you panicking?” 

“Because,” you shot back, a frustrated sigh escaping your throat. “I didn’t mean to do it, and I don’t want to make things uncomfortable between–”

Before you could further speak, Rafe cut you off with a kiss as he captured your lips in between his. It was the answer to your worries, and while you were shocked, it did wash relief over you. His mouth moved against yours, the gesture subtle, barely even there, though you took notice of it, instantly returning the kiss. 

You hummed into the kiss, taking his face in between your fingers as you brought his face even closer, feeling his nose brush over yours. He tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss as he captured your bottom lip in between his teeth. 

Rafe nibbled on your lips, earning a muffled gasp out of you. The boy took the gesture as an opportunity, using it to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You almost yelped as you felt his arms sneaking around your waist, tracing down to your sides as he tugged at the skin, nails digging into your skin. 

At this point, your brain was mush, no words could describe how desperate you were to have his lips on you, growing drunk to the mere taste of him. You knew it, you were well aware of that fact; that when you got to taste him, you’d never be able to get enough. 

And that was exactly your situation in the moment, tangled in Rafe’s hold as he kissed you numb, leaving you with nothing but despair, lust, the desire of wanting him, it consumed you as a whole. 

With enough guidance, Rafe managed to plop you on his lap, slinging both of your thighs over his legs, to make you comfortable around him. You adjusted your position, freezing in your spot when Rafe groaned into your mouth, causing realization to wash over you. 

You blushed, feeling your ass brush over his crotch area, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. You moved away for a moment, staring down at the boy as you now hovered over him, the angle driving you insane. 

He looked so good, his eyes hazed up, barely able to keep them open as he parted his swollen lips with a breath. He squeezed your sides, chasing after your lips, in an attempt to capture them in between his. 

“Sorry.” You whispered, not sounding apologetic at all. 

“Mhm.” Rafe hummed, taking you in between his lips again, this time with more keen. 

He was like a starving man, you have never seen him like this before. Sure, he was a flirt, he had his way around with women, but hell, had you known he was such a good kisser, you would’ve made the discovery sooner. 

His hand found the blade of your shoulder, trailing up the exposed flesh, until it reached the strap of your bra. He toyed with the material, dipping his fingers underneath, using the digits to slide it down your arm. 

You moaned at the action, unable to suppress it any longer with the boy’s hand roaming around your body, exploring every curve he could lay his touch on. You couldn’t believe, nor did you want it to end, you wanted it to last an eternity, even if it meant getting your heart broken. 

Because, how could you resist him? How could you when he’s there, existing and looking so attractive while doing it?

Your face heated, feeling blush crawl past your neck, right to your face as you felt something harden beneath you. You pulled away for a second, lips ghosting over his, as your forehead collided, the sensation of his hot breath fanning over your flesh sent tingles through your body. 

Rafe littered open-mouthed kisses to your lips, the sound of your mouth colliding with a pop the only thing heard over the silence seeping through the air. His hands squeeze around your hips, you were sure his hold bruised your sides. 

And that thought, it drove you crazy, knowing he was marking his territory, not afraid to show people that something went down between you, though, you knew he was against it. Come on, this was the Rafe Cameron, it should be obvious this was a mere fling, but for now, you chose to ignore it, look past that and enjoy the pleasure he’s spiraling through your body. 

He littered kisses down your jaw, trailing all the way to your throat, until he was nuzzled in the crook of your neck. You gasped, accidentally grinding down when Rafe’s teeth grazed over your flesh, followed with a nibble afterwards. 

Your hands found his hair, fingernails brushing his buzzed hair, the sensation causing the boy to groan. You almost chuckled at his reaction, but chose to hold it down, knowing how whiny Rafe gets whenever you tease him. 

“Fuck, baby.” He muffled a whimper out, retrieving his head from the crook of your neck. “You’re so pretty, jus’ wanna cherish you forever.”

You came to a halt, the hushed words catching you off guard. You fluttered your eyes down at him, parting your lips to speak, merely to be interrupted by the kiss that followed. You almost yelped, quickly relaxing into it after a moment. 

It was a mere peck, with the boy lingering for a moment to taste you on his lips, merely to indicate that he wanted this, just as much as you did. You felt him smile against your lips, the gesture causing you to grow embarrassed. 

Your eyes widened, when you suddenly heard Jackie whine, implying that the little girl had woken up. You pressed your hands to Rafe’s chest, applying enough pressure to push the latter away as he chased after your lips. 

Your fingers came into view, hovering them over his lips to stop him from further moving. Your attention shifted to Jackie, causing Rafe to follow your gaze as you caught sight of the little girl shuffling around in her crib, showcasing that something was making her uncomfortable. 

Right, you were babysitting. 

You instantly shuffled off Rafe’s lap, making your way toward the little girl, whose eyes shifted to you once you approached her. Rafe on the other hand, cleared his throat, attempting (and failing) to get a hold of himself. He fixed his position, gaze burning through you as you tried to find Jackie's source of discomfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Are you hungry? You want me to feed you?”

���Listen,” Rafe started, immediately interrupted by you perking up to grab Jackie’s bottle from beside him. 

“Let me feed Jackie first.” You replied before he could further talk, flashing him a quick smile before heading towards the kitchen. 

What the fuck was that? Did you just kiss Rafe cameron? With his niece around, at that? 

You were supposed to be taking care of her, yet, there you were, making out with her attractive uncle while she was asleep. Your face flushed with embarrassment, not capable of facing Rafe, hoping he’d disappear while you make Jackie’s bottle.

You regret it, because you know he will. He’ll look past it, act like nothing happened, and pretend it was all for show, just like he usually does, with every other girl. How were you any different? And why would he be genuine?

It never made sense, no matter how much he fed into your delusions, you chose to stay sane about it, considering reality before you fell head over heels. You’ve had this attraction towards him ever since you befriended Sarah, and it continued off from there, growing within every moment you spent with the boy.

In your head, this was definitely unrequited, nothing more than a mistake that you both will regret for obvious reasons, therefore, when you headed back, you wwe definitely not expecting to see Rafe, who busied himself with Jackie, distracting her until you were back. 

Your breath hitched at the sight, heart melting into pieces as you further approached the pair, earning Rafe’s attention as he glanced over his shoulder. He sat upright, giving you enough space to come through and give Jackie her bottle. 

“There you go, sweetheart.” He hummed, staring at Jackie as she sipped on her bottle. “You're hungry, huh? Is that why you interrupted us?” 

“Rafe!” You almost broke your neck with how swiftly you turned your head in the boy’s direction, the remark catching you off guard. 

“What?” He started, avoiding your gaze for a moment before trailing his eyes back to you. “Were we not having a moment?” 

“I– well…” You trailed off, stammering over your words. 

“What?” He questioned, “You regret it?”

“Do you?” You shot back, anxiousness visible through your tone. 

“Why would I kiss you if I was going to regret it?” He snorted, staring at you with disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t jus’ kiss anyone.” 

“Well,” you cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes with suspicion. “That’s not…” 

“Okay, shut up.” He rolled his eyes, giggling at your response. “That was in the past, I’m a changed man.” 

“Changed man, huh?” You chuckled along, unable to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. 

“Okay, enough.” He clicked his teeth, lightly shoving your shoulder. 

“What?!” You defensively shot back, “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Right,” he nodded his head, inching closer towards you. “Do you really not get it?” 

“Hmm?” You hummed, suddenly growing flustered by how close he has gotten. 

Instead of answering, Rafe leaned in for another kiss, one soft enough, it spoke volumes on his behalf. It was unlike the first one you shared, this one was tender, so full of endearment, it overwhelmed you whole. 

He withdrew from the touch, a sheepish smile instantly spreading across his lips. His breath fanned over your face, now mere inches away from you, the gesture invading your personal space. 

“Does this answer your question?’ He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. 

“What are you doing?” You stumbled over your words, lightly shoving the boy, who admired you with amusement. “You should leave, Jackie keeps wakin’ up ‘cause you’re distracting her.”

“Hey, how is it my fault?” Rafe muttered, lips jutting into a pout. “Not my fault her babysitter is beautiful, I can’t keep my hands to myself when she’s around.” 

“Rafe.” You whisper-yelled, growing flustered by the statement. 

It was surreal, Rafe, liking you? Perhaps, more than you did? You couldn’t believe it. 

“What?!” He chuckled, pecking you once more before moving away. “She’s deep asleep, look at her.”

“Still,” you huffed, nervously biting your lip. “It’s not appropriate.”

“She’s barely six months, darling, relax.” He exclaimed, sneaking a hand over to your waist, letting it settle around your hip. “I’m sure she doesn’t mind setting us up, besides, we’re not doing anythin’ weird.”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned, scoffing at the remark. “Shoving your tongue down my throat is not weird at all?” 

“It’s human nature.” He reasoned, nodding his head. 

You slapped his shoulder, earning a hiss in return as he faked a pained expression. You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips, too endeared by how cute he was acting. 

Maybe going with the flow is not so bad, after all. 

“You should head out, it’s getting late.” You mumbled, using the darkness as an excuse to get rid of him.

You don’t think you’ll be able to hold back if he’s around, especially not now, with how tempting he was being. 

“There you go,” he huffed, shooting up from his seat. “Kickin’ me out again.”

You giggled at his response, following behind as he made his way towards the door. He unlocked the doorknob, turning to face you before he could exit. 

“I’ll leave then, let me know if you need anything in particular.” He muttered, eyes flickering to your lips. “Also, lock the door, and wait until Sarah and John be get back, don’t open it unless you know who it is, okay?” 

“Relax, you’re acting as if I’m about to get kidnapped.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the door as your gaze shifted up to meet Rafe’s, who was now towering over you. “Besides, Sarah and John B aren't coming back tonight, I’m babysitting overnight.”

“Oh?” Rafe stood upright, a smirk replacing his worried expression from earlier. “I wasn’t aware of that.” 

“Well, now you are.” You slightly shoved his torso, feeling his broad chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Leave, I know you’ll jus’ keep delaying your stay until it’s too late.”

“Maybe I could stay a bit longer,” He started, voice dropping into a whisper as he took a step forward, causing you to take one back. “You know, keep you company while they’re away.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You beamed, hand finding his chest once again as you fisted his shirt with your fingers, the gesture earning a sly grin out of the latter. 

“It wouldn’t hurt.” He pressed you against the wall, stealing an open-mouthed kiss from your lips. “Besides, I get to protect you, and we could take turns looking out for Jackie.” 

“You know that’s not why you’re staying.” You muttered, barely able to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. 

“Mhm, you’re right.” Hr replied. 

And with that, the boy ceased the distance as he collided your lips in a chaste kiss, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he carried you to the guest bedroom. 

Therefore, you didn’t mind babysitting, especially when Rafe Cameron was keeping you company. 

[fullsunstrawberry]

Falling for the Enemy (M)

Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.

Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!

Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, please guys don’t fight lol, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, teasing, ex knowingly watching, no condom mentioned (stay safe yall), the pull out method (pls be safe), use of the words hot seed, cum, cock.

Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Shout out to my lovely 💚anon for this one!! After some internet troubles, it’s finally out now :) Please let me know if there is anything funky about this (I write on google doc and copy and paste it on Tumblr and sometimes it fucks up the format or doubles paragraphs)

Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class. 

"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.

"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?

Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on. 

Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up. 

Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that missed your friend that was long gone. 

You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends, who also hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face. 

Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay. 

Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.

Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!

You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”. 

Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.

"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."

You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.

"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting. 

His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone. 

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.

"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."

You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."

"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go. 

"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.

Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."

"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.

“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."

You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."

Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”

That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?

Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.

Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”

Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.

“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.

As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would overthink and feel bad.  

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”

Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"

Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.

“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”

“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”

“Jay, it’s not like that—”

“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”

The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.

"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him. 

But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight. 

Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down. 

As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do. 

But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?

Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently. 

The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again. 

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.

“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”

Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.

“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?

“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two. 

But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”

There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong. 

You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”

You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. 

“Haechan.” The barista called out. 

Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance. 

You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable. 

But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.  

“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.

“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.” 

Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."

You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."

"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"

You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.

 "It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."

Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."

You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"

That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?

Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered. 

Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."

You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies. 

“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.

“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.” 

The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"

You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.

Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"

You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"

Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."

"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester. 

But for right now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior would have to wait.

You broke the cookie in half and offered a piece to Chaeryeong, hoping to shift the focus back to something lighter. "Want some? Might as well not let them go to waste.

She accepted the piece with a small smile, though her gaze remained thoughtful. 

"You know, maybe he’s not as bad as we thought. Or maybe he's just a confusing guy." 

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. "That’s putting it lightly." 

But as the sweetness of the cookie melted in your mouth, the door to the café swung open again, and for a moment, your heart jumped, fearing it might be Jay.

But instead, it was Chenle and Jaemin, both of them scanning the room until they spotted you and Chaeryeong.

"Hey, there you are," Chenle said, sliding into a seat next to Chaeryeong. Jaemin followed sitting in the seat next to you, giving you a concerned look. "Everything okay?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... needed some space."

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a playful nudge. "Well, we’re here now, so no more pity parties. Let’s get you out of this mess.”

Jaemin studied you for a moment before speaking. "We’re here for you, Y/n. Whatever you need." You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. 

“Ooo cookies!” Chenle grabbed one without asking. 

“You even ordered yourself some of your favorite cookies…oh no this is bad” Jaemin continued, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness. "Cookies are your comfort food."

Chenle, mid-bite, paused and raised his eyebrows.

"Wait, did something happen with Jay again?" His usual playful tone shifted slightly, concern creeping in as he glanced between you and Chaeryoung.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their questions. "It's nothing. Just... the usual stuff. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan in class again."

Jaemin’s face hardened. "Y/n, that’s not nothing. He’s been doing this for a while now. Getting jealous and picking fights. It’s not normal."

Chenle, despite the cookie in his mouth, nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Why does it even matter where you sit in class? You’re not his property."

You glanced away, not wanting to meet their eyes. The conversation was heading in the same direction as before, and you felt that familiar knot of guilt tightening in your chest. 

After a moment of silence, Chaeryoung spoke up, “She didn’t even buy these cookies…guess who did.”

Chenle blinked, pausing mid-chew as he looked between you and Chaeryoung. 

"Wait, are you bragging about buying cookies for a heartbroken girl?" His voice was laced with teasing. She shook her head ‘no’ and Jaemin’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

You hesitated, feeling a twinge of discomfort as you answered quietly, "Haechan."

Jaemin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Haechan? He bought you cookies?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and a little bit of protectiveness.

Chenle stared at the cookie in his hand, then at you, then back at the cookie. "So, you’re telling me I’m eating Haechan’s cookies? They’re probably poisoned!"

"It’s not like I asked him to," you muttered, feeling the tension rising again. "He just… did."

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes. "He didn’t say much when he saw me outside of the cafe, just told me that Y/n needed me."

Jaemin’s frown deepened. "That’s weird. Since when does Haechan care about anyone but himself?"

You shrugged, still unsure of what to make of the gesture. "I don’t know. Maybe he’s just messing with me, trying to get under my skin."

Chaeryeong smirked. "Or maybe he’s trying to get you under him!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. He’s just... being Haechan, weird."

Chaeryeong’s energy shifted immediately, her smirk softening into a more playful grin as she leaned forward, practically buzzing with excitement. "Alright, enough of this! We need to get you out of here. You’ve been drowning in all this drama for too long.”

Chenle’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, already nodding in agreement. "Yes! A night out is exactly what you need. No Jay, no Haechan—just us having fun. There is a party at Mark’s place tomorrow night." He winked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Jaemin, though quieter, gave a nod of approval. "It could be good for you, Y/n. A break from everything."

You hesitated, a part of you wanted to curl up at home and avoid the world, but another part knew that maybe they were right. You needed a break from all the chaos.

"Alright, fine," you sighed, feeling the weight on your chest lighten just a little. "I’ll go to Mark’s party tomorrow."

Chaeryeong clapped her hands together, practically glowing with excitement. "Yes! It’s going to be so much fun, I promise! Just good vibes, and you’ll finally get a chance to relax."

Chenle grinned, "That’s the spirit! Plus, you know, it’s always a good time at Mark’s. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new…"

Jaemin shot Chenle a look, silently warning him to tone it down, but Chenle just winked at you, clearly trying to keep things light.

You chuckled, feeling a small flicker of relief. "I’m not going to a party to meet someone, Chenle."

"Maybe not," Jaemin said with a small smile, "but at least you’ll be there with your friends, and that’s what matters."

The next evening, the air was buzzing with excitement as you stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the mixture of outfits Chaeryeong had scattered across your bed. She was currently looking through your closet, tossing out options as if she were styling a fashion shoot instead of just picking something for a party. 

“You need something bold but effortless,” Chaeryeong declared, holding up a black, form-fitting dress before shaking her head and discarding it. “Something that says, ‘I’m here to have fun, not to impress.’ But, you know, still impressive.”

You laughed, sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched her being dramatic. "Chaeryeong, it’s just a party. I’m not trying to walk a runway."

Chenle, lounging in the corner of your room, raised an eyebrow. "No, but you’re going to Mark’s, and there’s a difference. You’ve gotta show up looking good.”

You groaned as Chaeryeong shot you a knowing look. “You don’t want to walk in looking anything less than your best. Trust me, it’ll help you feel more in control." She pulled out a green silk dress from your closet, holding it up against you. "This. It’s perfect."

You looked at the dress, hesitant. It was beautiful. "I don’t know… it’s kind of a lot."

"Exactly," Chaeryeong said with a grin. "You need a lot. Let’s remind everyone—including you—that you’re the main character tonight."

Chenle laughed, getting up from his spot. "You heard her. Tonight is your night to shine, Y/n."

Sighing, you finally stood up and took the dress from Chaeryeong’s hands. "Fine. Let’s do it."

An hour later, you were slipping on the last of your jewelry as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The green dress hugged your curves in all the right ways, and the satin shimmered under the soft lighting of your room. Chaeryeong had helped style your hair, soft waves falling over your shoulders, and Chenle, surprisingly, had given his input on your makeup. A bold lip to contrast the simplicity of the rest of your look.

"Wow," you whispered, half in disbelief at how different you looked.

Chaeryeong stood beside you, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Told you. You look amazing."

Chenle nodded, leaning in the doorway. "Everyone is gonna wish they were with you."

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder. Would they? Would Jay? Or would you finally not care?

With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, feeling a rush of determination. Tonight was about you.

As you made your way downstairs, the sound of music and distant chatter already filled the air. Chenle and Chaeryeong followed close behind.

Chaeryeong linked her arm with yours as you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “Don’t let it get to you, Y/n. Just have fun tonight. Remember, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

You nodded, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of Jay and Haechan, and all the drama that seemed to follow them like a shadow. Tonight wasn’t about them—it was about you.

The drive to Mark’s place was filled with lighthearted chatter, Chenle and Chaeryeong alternating between playful bickering and hyping you up for the night ahead. But the closer you got to the party, the more you felt the familiar nerves creeping in.

“We’re here!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, and you blinked as the car pulled up to Mark’s house. Music thumped from inside, and the soft glow of lights poured from the windows, illuminating the big crowd already gathered outside.

You took a deep breath as the three of you stepped out of the car, Chenle offering you a quick thumbs-up for encouragement. “Remember, main character energy. Let’s go.”

As you approached the front door, Mark himself appeared, grinning as he waved you inside. “Y/n! You made it!”

 He gave you a quick, welcoming hug before greeting Chaeryeong and Chenle. “The party’s just getting started. Drinks are in the kitchen, and the backyard is open if you want to chill.”

You thanked him and followed the crowd into the house, trying to shake off the remaining nerves. The music, laughter, and the buzz of conversation washed over you, helping to melt away some of your worries. Chaeryeong handed you a drink, her eyes already sparkling.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit!” she said over the music, pulling you toward the living room, where a few familiar faces were already lounging.

But before you could get comfortable, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the kitchen—Haechan.

 He was chatting with someone, but his gaze shifted just as you entered the room. For a split second, your eyes locked, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, though you couldn’t quite read it.

“Focus on having fun,” Chaeryeong whispered in your ear, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled at her, grateful for the reminder, and nodded. Tonight was about fun. About letting go.

Jaemin and Jeno moved to form a spot where you could sit between them. You settled down, feeling a wave of relief as the two of them immediately began chatting, creating a comfortable bubble around you. Jeno handed you a drink with a reassuring smile.

 "Looking good, Y/n."

Jeno, always the more laid-back one, nudged your shoulder. "We’ll make sure you have a good time. No drama, no distractions."

You took a sip of your drink, nodding. Their presence was calming, a much-needed escape from the whirlwind of emotions you’d been feeling lately.

Chaeryeong and Chenle were already engrossed in a conversation across from you, laughing about something Chenle said, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel at ease.

Jaemin leaned in slightly, his voice low so only you could hear. "You look amazing tonight, by the way." He smiled.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, and before you could respond, Jeno chimed in, as if reading the moment. "Jaemin’s right. That green dress is doing wonders."

You laughed, grateful for their compliments but not wanting to dwell on it too much. "Thanks, guys. I needed this.” You took a chug from your drink. 

Jaemin smiled softly. "We’re always here for you, Y/n."

You nodded, then stood up, smoothing down the hem of your dress as you glanced around the room. The music thumped louder as more people began to fill the space, and for a moment, you just stood there, letting the beat pulse through you. 

"Then let’s dance," you said, gesturing toward the group of people already dancing.

Jaemin grinned, standing up and offering you his hand. "Thought you’d never ask."

Jeno followed close behind, already moving to the rhythm of the music as you all made your way to the center of the room. The bass of the music vibrated through the floor, the lights flashing in time with the beat, casting colorful patterns on the crowd around you.

As soon as you hit the dance floor, the energy shifted. The three of you fell into the rhythm easily, laughing and letting the music take over. You spun around, arms raised, carefree.

"Now this is what I like to see from you," Jaemin said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. You laughed, spinning around again, letting the moment take over. 

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze locked with Haechan from across the room. He stood near the edge of the dance floor, leaning against the wall with his usual confident smirk. His eyes were focused intently on you, watching your every move. For a moment, everything else faded—the music, the crowd, even Jaemin and Jeno’s presence 

Haechan didn’t look away. Instead, his smirk deepened, almost like he knew something you didn’t, a silent challenge hanging between you.

Jaemin nudged your arm, breaking your concentration. "Hey, you good?"

You blinked, forcing a smile and nodding. "Yeah, I’m good!” 

The spot where Haechan had been standing was now empty, leaving you momentarily confused.

Jaemin noticed your brief flicker of confusion. “Looking for someone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly. "No, just... thought I saw something." 

Before Jaemin could say more, Chenle swooped in, pulling you by the wrist and pulling you towards him and Chaeryeong. “Come on! No more standing around, let’s get moving!” 

You let yourself be pulled into the crowd, trying to shake the image of Haechan from your mind.

Feeling a bit drained, you excused yourself from your friends and made your way to the kitchen in search of another drink. The party was packed, and the energy was starting to get overwhelming.

After a few moments of being bumped and nudged, you decided it was best to escape the chaos. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out to the backyard, hoping for a moment of peace away from the noise and crowd.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and music fading into the background. The backyard was a welcome contrast to the chaotic energy inside. Strings of fairy lights hung above, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating a few scattered chairs around a fire pit. 

You walked toward the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing and taking a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs. The stars twinkled above like tiny diamonds, and for a moment, you lost yourself in their beauty, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you heard the door open and someone rushed out. Turning you saw Haechan. He was searching the backyard until his eyes met yours and he sighed, walking over to you.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes, already knowing he wasn’t the best company. 

“I know you don’t exactly like me” You scoffed as he put his hands up, telling you to wait, “But I hate cheaters, so I needed to tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written across your face. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Haechan leaned against the railing beside you, his expression serious, a stark contrast to the usual playful demeanor. “No, seriously. I just saw Jay go into a room with another girl.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down. You took a moment to process what he was saying, anger and disbelief swirling within you.

 “Are you sure? That sounds like something you would say to mess with me.”

“I get why you’d think that, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Haechan replied, frustration creeping into his tone.

 “I may not be your favorite person, but I wouldn’t do that. You deserve to know the truth.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening around your drink. The reality of the situation settled over you, and you could feel your heart racing.

 “Which room?”

Haechan hesitated for a moment, his gaze steady. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, the kind that felt hollow. “Just tell me which room.”

Haechan glanced at you, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “Upstairs, the second one on the right.”

You put your cup down and started to make your way back into the party in search of the stairs. 

“Are you sure about this?” Haechan, who you didn’t even notice was following, asked you. 

You nodded and moved quickly, your heart racing as you made your way through the crowd. The lively music and laughter faded into the background, drowned out by the storm of thoughts in your head. The dim lights seemed to press in, making your thoughts feel even more stressed.

As you reached the stairs, you hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of what you were about to confront hitting you like a ton of bricks. But the image of Jay with another girl flashed in your mind, fueling your determination. You needed answers. You needed to reclaim your dignity.

Going up the stairs, you felt your breath quicken. Each step seemed to echo with the anxiety of what lay ahead. Reaching the second door on the right, you paused, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You could hear muffled voices from inside, giggling mingling with the soft kissing. 

Throwing open the door you felt the air leave your lungs in a rush, your heart dropping as the scene unfolded before you. Jay was on top of another woman, his hands tangled in her hair, their lips inches apart.

Time seemed to freeze as Jay’s eyes shot wide open, and the laughter from the girl faltered into a shocked silence. 

“Y/n! I—” Jay stammered, scrambling to sit up, the realization of your presence crashing over him like a wave. 

You didn’t let him finish. “What the hell is this?” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and disbelief swirling within you. The hurt was too much, twisting your stomach into knots.

The girl, wide-eyed and uncomfortable, quickly shuffled away from Jay, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I didn’t know—” she started, but you cut her off.

“Save it,” you said, directing your fury back at Jay.

“After everything I’ve done for you.”

Jay stood up fully now, his expression shifting from shock to guilt. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he began his voice low, almost pleading. 

You turned your back towards him and rushed down the stairs. You could hear him following you. So you looked for any of your friends but couldn’t find them. Instead, your eyes connect with Haechans near the bottom of the stairs. 

Rushing over to him you pull him down by his shirt and whisper “sorry” before pulling him into a heated kiss. 

Haechan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he responded, his hands finding your waist as he kissed you back with an urgency that matched your own. The chaos of the party faded into the background, the pounding music replaced by the sound of your racing heart.

But before it could get any farther, you were ripped away from Haechan by the sudden appearance of a familiar voice. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Jay’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusatory. You turned to see him standing there, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger.

Haechan stepped back, his demeanor shifting instantly from passionate to defensive. 

“Just what you were doing with that other girl,” he replied, his tone challenging. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you—”

“Don’t!” Jay interrupted, stepping toward you both.

“You have no right to act like the hero here. You don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know exactly what’s going on, so if you don’t mind we were kind of doing something”, Haechan shot back, his eyes narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you from Jay.

You could feel the tension in the air thickening. “Haechan, stop,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You could see the fire in his eyes, but you didn’t want this to escalate any further.

Jay’s expression twisted with frustration. “You think you can just come in and play the knight in shining armor? She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

“And you think I care?” Haechan replied, crossing his arms defiantly. “You had your chance to treat her right, and you blew it.”

Jay shook his head, thinking about what to say next, but Jay was never good with his words so he stepped forward and swung.

Haechan barely had time to react. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. You gasped, instinctively stepping between them, your heart racing at the sudden escalation.

“Jay, what the hell?!” you shouted, adrenaline rushing through you. “This is not how you handle things!”

Jay’s face was flushed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s a fucking piece of shit!” he snapped, breathing heavily. 

Haechan regained his composure and moved around you, delivering a swift punch to Jay's jaw. The impact echoed, and Jay staggered back, eyes wide with surprise. 

As they started to throw punches back and forth, you didn’t know what to do. A group of people gathered around them. 

You saw Jaemin and Jeno pushing through the crowd, their expressions a mix of alarm and confusion. “What the hell is going on?” Jaemin shouted, his voice rising above the commotion.

“Y/n, get out of the way!” Jeno called out as he reached for your arm, pulling you back. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel powerless while the two of them fought over you like you were some trophy for their ego.

“Stop it!” you shouted again, trying to push through the gathering crowd, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of fists connecting and the murmurs of onlookers. 

Jaemin managed to get closer, stepping between Jay and Haechan. As Jeno grabbed Jay from behind to stop him from throwing any more punches. 

“Both of you, enough! This isn’t the way to handle it!” 

Haechan, breathing heavily, stepped back, his fists still clenched. “He deserves this, Jaemin! He cheated on her!”

Jay looked furious, “This is all his fucking fault!” He spat at Haechan. 

You could see his expression begin to harden again, that familiar mask of arrogance threatening to resurface. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as you attempted to pull him away from the chaos of the crowd. 

Haechan looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening at your sudden gesture, but he didn’t resist as you led him out into the cool evening air, away from the noise. As you stepped into the front yard, you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber. 

“What are you doing?” Haechan asked, his voice low, and filled with confusion. His hand was still in yours, but he made no move to pull away, his gaze locked on your face.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat as the reality of the moment started to sink in. What were you doing?

“I needed to get out of there,” you admitted quietly, your grip loosening slightly, but you didn’t let go.

His eyes softened, just a little, the hardness from earlier fading as he studied you. 

"Okay." 

Haechan sat down on the curb of the road and gestured for you to sit down next to him. 

You hesitated for a moment, then quietly sat beside him on the curb, the cool pavement grounding you. 

“So, how are we going to get back at him?” you asked, your voice low but edged with determination. 

Haechan turned toward you, eyes narrowing in surprise. “What?”

You met his gaze, a fire igniting within you. "Jay. How are we going to make him regret everything?" 

Haechan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He studied your face for a long second as if trying to gauge whether you were serious. Then, a slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips. 

“Are you sure you’re ready to play that game?” he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his question sink in. Was this really what you wanted? A part of you knew it was reckless, that using Haechan to get back at Jay could only make things worse. 

“I need to hurt him,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “If he wants to treat me like I’m nothing, then maybe it’s time I show him I don’t need him.”

Haechan's smirk deepened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Alright, then. Let’s make this interesting.”

Before the two of you could come up with an actual plan, the Uber showed up. You exchanged a quick look with Haechan before giving the driver your address. 

The ride was quiet, you could feel Haechan’s gaze lingering on you but you didn’t want to say anything so you settled for looking out the window. 

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment, you stepped out, turning back to wait for him. Haechan, still sitting in the backseat, raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, his voice casual, but his eyes searched yours.

You gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slight shrug, he climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him.

“Is there a reason you’re taking me back to your house?” Haechan teased, his tone playful as always, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

You shot him a glance, rolling your eyes. “Look at you. You look awful, and I know you’re not smart enough to clean an open wound.”

Haechan smirked, following you toward your apartment door. “I didn’t realize I was so lucky to have a personal nurse.”

You ignored his sarcasm, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Just sit down and let me handle it before you get an infection.”

As he walked in, his usual cocky demeanor softened slightly. He never thought you two would be talking again. Not after he was such a huge jerk to you.

He sank onto the couch, watching you as you moved through the small space, grabbing your first aid kit from under the sink. There was an awkward quiet that hung between you two, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Returning to the living room, you set the kit on the coffee table and crouched in front of him, carefully opening it up.

“You know, I can do this myself,” Haechan said, but his voice lacked its usual teasing bite.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, reaching for the antiseptic.

“Like I trust you not to make it worse.”

He chuckled, though there was an unspoken tension behind it. As you gently cleaned the small cuts and scrapes, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become, his gaze occasionally flickering to your face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. "I didn’t punch him because of you, I did it because he’s a jerk."

You paused for a second, looking up at him, your hands still resting on him. “It’s the least I can do,” you admitted honestly. “Since you told me.” 

Haechan sighed, his eyes drifting around your living room. His gaze lingered on the little details—pictures on the wall, the books stacked messily on the coffee table—before he turned back to you, something softer in his expression.

"Done," you said, pulling your hands away after finishing with his wounds.

He flexed his hand, testing the bandages, and gave you a small, almost appreciative nod. "Thanks..." His voice was low, the teasing gone entirely.

You just shrugged, trying to brush off the weight of the moment. "Don’t get used to it," you said with a small smile, but there was no real bite to your words. 

Haechan met your eyes, something unreadable passing between you before he looked away again. "I owe you."

“I will remember that!” you laughed, getting up from the floor and brushing off your pants. “I’m tired, you can sleep on the couch. I’ll bring you some pillows.”

Haechan watched you with an amused expression, his eyes glinting. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to crash on your couch.”

“Too bad,” you shot back playfully, heading toward the closet. “You look like you need the rest after everything. Plus, I don't want to be responsible for you bleeding out.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

You returned with a couple of pillows and a blanket, handing them to him. “Here you go.”

“Wow, you are going all out,” he teased, settling into the couch, clearly enjoying this. 

“Do I get breakfast too, or is that pushing it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you replied with a mock glare.

“You can make yourself breakfast. Just don’t burn the place down.”

Haechan quietly laughed before getting comfortable on the couch, sinking into the pillows you had brought him. His relaxed posture seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room, making it feel more relaxed. 

“Just so you know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow, “this isn’t going to become a regular thing. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Right, the infamous Haechan, the bad boy who no one can take seriously.” you teased, rolling your eyes as you left to go to your room.

As you closed the door to your room, you leaned against it for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe.

You tossed your phone onto the bed and plopped down beside it. After a moment, you set a timer for the morning, letting exhaustion pull you into sleep.

Morning light filtered through your curtains, you stirred as your alarm beeped. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stretched and glanced at the clock. You had meant to wake up early, but the memories of last night lingered in your mind, making it hard to move.

You climbed out of bed, the floor cool against your feet, and made your way to the bathroom. After quickly brushing your teeth and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you headed toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the room.

You found the blanket neatly folded on the couch and the pillows stacked up next to it, but no sign of Haechan. A small frown formed on your face. But what did you expect? You weren’t friends just because he fought your ex. He said it himself that it wasn’t for you. He just wanted an excuse to hit Jay.

Pushing the thought aside, you took a deep breath and focused on getting ready for class. You stepped into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water to shake off the remnants of sleep. After putting on some makeup and brushing your hair, you throw on a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater.

As you walked back into your bedroom, you noticed your phone lighting up with a message. You grabbed it, and messages from your friends filled your phone. 

Chenle: THAT WAS CRAZY!! ARE YOU OKAY?? 

Jaemin: Hey, let me know when you’re home!! <3

Jaemin: You probably fell asleep, let me know when you are awake <3

Jeno: Are you okay? Jaemin and I took care of the problem  (⪰∀⪯）

Chaeryeong: I saw you leave with Haehcan!! GURRL YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

After a moment, you replied to everyone letting them know you were okay.

With your bag slung over your shoulder. You walked towards campus, your mind still racing with thoughts about Haechan. 

When you arrived, you navigated through the crowd of students, your mind drifting between the classes you had lined up for the day. 

As you made your way to your first lecture, you spotted a familiar face across the quad. It was your friend, Chaeryeong, waving enthusiastically. You quickened your pace to meet her.

“Y/n! There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to class!”

“You know I can’t afford to miss a class,” you laugh.

“Okay, I’ve waited enough! Tell me everything!” she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as you both walked towards the lecture hall.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Well, Haechan stayed over last night after everything that happened with Jay.”

Chaeryeong raised her eyebrows, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “Oh? Look at you getting cozy with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile. “It’s not like that. I felt bad, dragging him into all of this.”

“He was always in this,” she said, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You nodded, the weight of her words settling in your mind. “I know, but this doesn’t mean we are friends.”

Chaeryeong shook her head, and the two of you entered the lecture hall, finding your seats. As the professor began speaking, you turned to whisper to Chaeryoung, leaning in slightly to keep your conversation discreet. 

“Let’s not tell the guys about me going home with Haechan... I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Chaeryoung nodded and turned back to focus on the lecture. 

“I’m going to go eat something, I didn’t get to have breakfast,” you said, rubbing your stomach lightly to emphasize your point. 

“You’re so lucky to have a break between classes” Chaeryoung groaned, “I have two more classes before I can even get food.” 

“You’re the one that wanted all morning classes” 

“Yeah because the night is for parting not for studying.” Chaeryoung rolled her eyes. 

You shoved her playfully before splitting up and heading towards the café and sitting in the same spot you did last time. 

“Okay, you have to stop stealing my spot,” an annoyingly familiar voice said, breaking your focus from the menu. You looked up to find Haechan standing there, an amused smile on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, faking annoyance. “Still doesn’t have your name on it. This is a public café.”

“Sure, but you know it’s my favorite spot,” he retorted, sliding into the seat next to you. “I always sit here to people-watch between classes.”’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his mock-serious expression. “I don’t care right now, I’m starving.” 

He chuckled, glancing at the menu before leaning back in his chair. “What are you getting?.”

“I was thinking about a bagel and some coffee,” you replied, glancing over the options again.

“Boring,” he declared dramatically, shaking his head. “Get the avocado toast. It’s amazing here.”

You rolled your eyes. “So you can steal it? You’re not even hiding your motives.”

He shrugged, an innocent look plastered on his face. “What can I say? I have exquisite taste.”

“Exquisite taste?” you repeated, unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s a big word for you.”

“You’re supposed to be nicer to me now!” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did rescue you from that jerk, remember?”

“Rescue is a strong word,” you countered, trying to keep a straight face. “You threw a punch….and then I had to pull you away.”

“Details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider. “I’ll get an order for two avocado toasts.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up with excitement.

You gestured for him to get up so you could slide out of the booth. “Yeah, but only because you’re annoying and I don’t want to hear you complain. But you’re coming with me to order it.”

“Yay!” Haechan stood up and followed you to the counter, the playful banter continuing as you both approached the register.

As you placed the order, he leaned against the counter, watching you with a teasing smile. “What if I said I wanted extra everything? You’re still paying?”

You laughed, shaking your head as the barista rang up your order. “Is that all?”

You nodded your head, “Yep, that’s all.” You reached into your pocket for your card, but before you could find it, Haechan pulled out his and handed it to the barista.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested.

“Just treating you to breakfast,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter as if it was no big deal. 

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “For what? You were the one who punched my ex, remember?”

“Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve been wanting to mess up his face for a while!”

The barista handed Haechan back his card, and he turned to you with a victorious grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only because I’m starving.”

As you both moved to the side to wait for your order, the door to the café bell rang. You looked to the side and saw it was Jay and his friends.

“Shit!” you mumbled under your breath, your stomach sinking as you tried to think of an escape plan. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as Jay’s laughter echoed through the café. He spotted you almost immediately, his expression turning sour.

You could see him making his way to you, so you did the only thing that felt like it would hurt him. 

You grabbed Haechan’s shirt, pulling him closer to you as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, aggressive kiss.

Haechan froze for a moment, clearly taken aback. But he quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you back. 

The reaction was immediate. Jay’s expression shifted from confusion to fury, his friends exchanging glances as the tension in the room skyrocketed. You could feel Haechan smirking against your lips, clearly enjoying the situation.

As you pulled away, Haechan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Didn’t know paying for your lunch would make you want to kiss me,” he asked, while a grin tugged at his lips.

“Jay is here,” you whispered, low enough so no one else could hear you. 

Jay’s glare burned into you, and he scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think that’s going to make me jealous? You’re pathetic.”

You felt a rush of boldness. “If you’re so over it, why do you care?” you shot back, feeling bold because of Haechan’s presence.

Jay opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything further, Haechan stepped in front of you, his posture protective. “You really should find a new hobby, Jay. This isn’t working for you,” he said, his tone calm yet firm.

Jay’s face turned a shade redder, his boldness faltering. “Whatever. I don’t need this.” He turned on his heel, storming out with his friends trailing behind, their laughter fading as they exited the café.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glancing up at Haechan. “He was so mad.”

Haechan chuckled, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. “I have a plan!”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “Oh no, should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Haechan replied, that mischievous grin still playing on his lips. “But if you want to make him furious, we’re going to have to turn it up a notch.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” you asked cautiously, folding your arms. 

“Simple,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “We pretend that we are hooking up. Just for a little while. You know how much it’ll eat at him.”

Your eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Haechan shrugged, clearly enjoying the drama of it all. 

“It’ll be fun. And the look on his face when he realizes you’ve completely moved on? Priceless.”

You paused, considering it for a moment. As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea had some appeal. Jay seeing you with someone else, especially Haechan, would drive him nuts. And the more you thought about it, the more tempting it became.

“Okay, let’s say I go along with this,” you began slowly. “What’s in it for you?”

Haechan’s grin widened. “I get to have the time of my life watching Jay go insane.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s genius,” Haechan said, leaning back against the counter with a self-satisfied smirk. “

We’ll be the hottest ‘couple’ in the room, and Jay won’t know what hit him.”

You bit your lip, still hesitant but intrigued by the idea. “Fine,” you finally said. “But don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show.”

Haechan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. Strictly business. But trust me, this is going to be fun.”

After finishing lunch with Haechan, you went through the rest of your day—attending lectures, trying to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to the café incident. 

Haechan’s ridiculous plan echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but replay Jay's angry expression over and over again.

By the time your classes were over, you were mentally exhausted. Having dinner with your friends sounded like a nice break after a hectic day. As you approached the dining hall, you spotted Chaeryeong waving you over to the usual table where the others were already gathered—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle.

You slid into the seat next to Chaeryeong, who immediately gave you a curious glance. “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“Eventful,” you said with a sigh.

Jaemin perked up, overhearing the exchange. “Eventful?”

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “Just... ran into Jay and his friends at lunch.”

The table went quiet for a second before Chenle raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And... Haechan was there,” you added, not wanting to dive into all the details.

Chenle laughed, breaking the tension. “Oh man, I bet that was awkward.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, exchanging a glance with Chaeryeong, who seemed to already know there was more to the story.

Jeno, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “What did Haechan do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Jaemin cut in. 

“Wait, wait—are you guys friends now?”

You paused, unsure how to answer that question, especially with Haechan’s ridiculous plan in the back of your mind. “Not... exactly,” you said vaguely.

Jeno looked confused. “What does that even mean?”

Chaeryeong, always the perceptive one, smirked slightly but stayed quiet, watching the situation unfold.

You shrugged. “It just means things are complicated. Let’s just eat.”

But you could tell from the looks on your friends' faces that this wasn’t the last you’d hear about Haechan and Jay.

Your phone rang, and you glanced down, spotting Haechan’s name on the screen. You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos he was about to bring into your life.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered, your voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Party this weekend,” Haechan's voice was full of excitement. “We need to go! Everyone’s going to be there.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “And why, exactly, do I need to go to this party?”

“What, you don’t want to kiss me again,” he said with a teasing tone. “Plus, everyone is going to be there so it’s perfect.”

You could already imagine him grinning on the other end of the line, fully expecting you to give in. “Haechan, I’m not exactly in the mood for another party.”

“Come on,” he whined. “It’s not just any party. Jay’s gonna be there.”

“Fine, okay,” you finally said, giving in with a sigh. You could practically hear the grin in Haechan's voice.

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday. You’re not going to regret it, trust me.”

“I’m already regretting this,” you muttered, but a small part of you was excited. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—if nothing else, you’d get a chance to make Jay uncomfortable, and that was starting to sound more appealing.

“Just make sure you’re ready,” Haechan added. “And wear something… you know, sexy.”

“Sexy?” you repeated skeptically.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “See you then!”

As the call ended, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. This party could either be a disaster or the perfect chance to move on from Jay and get a little revenge. Either way, things were about to get interesting.

The week flew by in a blur of classes, assignments, and quick meals with friends. Before you knew it, Friday had arrived, and you found yourself staring at your closet, trying to figure out what Haechan meant by "something sexy." 

You groaned, pulling out outfit after outfit, none of them feeling right. Tonight wasn’t just any night. If Jay was going to be at this party, you wanted to make him regret cheating on you.

You gave up, settling on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. As you finished getting ready, you glanced at the time. Almost eight. 

Just as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you heard a knock on your door. Taking one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your jacket and opened the door.

“Took you long enough!” Haechan teased, eyeing your outfit with a dramatic shake of his head. 

“What?” you asked, already sensing the criticism coming.

“This won’t do,” he said with exaggerated disappointment. Before you could protest, he sighed and gently pushed you back into the house. “Where’s your closet?”

“Haechan, I’m not changing!” you called after him as he made a beeline for your bedroom.

“You are if you want to make everyone jealous,” he insisted, already rummaging through your clothes as if he owned the place. “Jeans and a black T-shirt? Come on, Y/n, we’re supposed to be putting on a show.”

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed. “My outfit doesn't matter.”

He grinned, pulling out a sleek black dress you had tucked away. “This is perfect.” 

You hesitated for a second, glancing at the dress. It was short, definitely not what you had planned, but you had to admit, Haechan had a point.

You sighed, eyeing the dress Haechan held up. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replied, his grin widening as he shoved the dress into your hands. “Come on, Y/n. You want to show Jay what he’s missing, right?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, looking between Haechan and the dress. You wouldn’t ever wear that if you were just going out with your friends. You didn’t have the confidence, but Haechan somehow gave you confidence. 

“Fine,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you snatched the dress from him. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Haechan smirked, plopping down on your bed and crossing his arms. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

You disappeared into the bathroom, slipping into the dress and staring at yourself in the mirror. It was outside your usual comfort zone, you couldn’t deny you looked good.

Stepping out, you found Haechan waiting, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, there was no teasing grin, just a flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it.

“See? Now this is how you get everyone’s attention,” he said, standing up. “Jay’s gonna be so jealous.”

His eyes lingered on you a little too long, and the sudden intenseness made you feel exposed. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shield the self-consciousness creeping up. 

Haechan reached out gently, his fingers brushing against your wrists as he pulled your arms away from your body.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly tender. “You look amazing. Own it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. His usual playful arrogance was replaced with something… different, almost like he wanted you to feel confident tonight. The teasing smirk was still there, but his eyes held something deeper.

“You think this is gonna work?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Haechan grinned, his usual swagger returning as he let go of your arms. “Oh, it’s definitely going to work. Jay’s not going to know what hit him. And more importantly, you’re going to have the best time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to match Haechan’s confidence. “Okay, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Relax, we’re gonna have fun.” Haechan shot you a wink before opening the door. 

“Trust me.” 

And for some reason, in that moment, you kind of did. 

The party was in full swing by the time you and Haechan arrived. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and the air was thick. 

“Hold on for a moment, I need to find Mark really quick” Haechan immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you on your own. You should have known you two wouldn’t have stayed together the whole night. 

You made your way to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect yourself before facing Jay. As you poured yourself a drink, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.”

You turned to see Jay leaning against the counter, a smug smile on his face. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Surprised to see me?” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not at all,” Jay replied, his eyes trailing over your figure. “Although I must say, this wasn’t exactly what I expected.”

“You don’t get to have any expectations,” You snapped, trying to sound confident despite not feeling it. “I wear what I want.” 

Jay chuckled, leaning in closer. “You never wore that when I was with you.”

“Past tense,” you emphasized, setting your drink down with more force than necessary. “Things change, Jay. Clearly.”

His smile paused for a moment before he masked it with a shrug. “Finally got bored of that douchebag.”

“Yeah, but I guess he hasn’t taken the hint since he’s right here, talking to me.”

Jay's smug expression deepened, but you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. 

“Y/N?” His tone was dripping with arrogance. “Do you think Haechan is any better than me? He’s just having fun with you until he gets bored.”

You felt the sting of his words, but you weren’t going to let him get to you. You leaned in slightly, your voice steady. 

“Maybe. But at least he’s better in bed.”

Jay's jaw tightened, clearly not expecting that response. He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice cut through the tension.

“This is just sad,” Haechan's voice rang out as he walked over, a cool smirk playing on his lips. “She already found someone better.”

Jay straightened up, glaring at Haechan, but didn’t say anything. The silence between the three of you was heavy, but you could sense that Jay was weighing his options. After a beat, he scoffed and stepped back.

“You’re not worth my time,” Jay muttered, giving you one last look before turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Haechan gave you a sideways glance, his smirk softening into something almost... concerned. 

“You alright?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened.

You nodded, still feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Good. Because I have a better idea for the rest of the night. Let’s make him regret ever speaking to you.”

You blinked at him, intrigued. “What are you planning now?”

Haechan grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’ll see. But first, we need more drinks to loosen up.”

Haechan’s grin widened as he grabbed two cups from the counter, handing one to you. You hesitated, still feeling the lingering tension from your run-in with Jay, but something about the way Haechan looked at you made it impossible to say no. 

“Let’s party,” he said, raising his cup.

You clinked your cup against him, taking a sip before following him back into the crowded living room. The music pulsed through the space, people dancing and talking in tight clusters. Haechan was already scanning the room, clearly looking for the next move.

“What exactly is this plan of yours?” you asked, trying to read his expression.

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, it’s simple. We just need to make it look like we’re having the best time ever—together. You know, give Jay a little show.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you plan to make Jay jealous again?”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, pulling you closer to him as a new song began to play. “Let’s see how he likes watching us have all the fun.”

Before you could protest, Haechan spun you around, guiding you into the makeshift dance floor. The bass vibrated under your feet as he moved effortlessly, a confident smirk still plastered on his face. Despite yourself, you found yourself laughing, his energy contagious. You couldn’t deny how easy it was to get swept up in the moment with him.

As the two of you danced, you noticed Jay standing across the room, watching with a clenched jaw. It was clear that Haechan’s plan was working. You caught Jay’s eye for a split second before deliberately looking away, focusing entirely on Haechan. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the way he smiled at you as if no one else mattered, made you forget about everything for a moment.

“See?” Haechan said, leaning close to your ear, his voice barely audible over the music. “Told you it would work.”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Jay pushing his friends away and keeping his eyes on you two, clearly frustrated. You grinned. “Maybe you’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Haechan chuckled, spinning you again before pulling you close. “Too late for that.”

Haechan leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Are you ready for the real show?” You nodded as Haechan started to lead you out of the crowd. 

As Haechan started to lead you up the stairs, your heart was pounding. The noise from the party below faded slightly with each step, leaving just the two of you in a quiet bubble. His hand remained firmly on your hips, his grip surprisingly reassuring despite the teasing smirk still playing on his lips.

”He’s following us.” Haechan whispered as he led you into a room, purposely leaving the door slightly open. 

Your heart skipped a beat as Haechan whispered those words, confirming what you had suspected. Jay was trailing behind, just as Haechan had expected. 

Once inside the dimly lit room, Haechan stood in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. He motioned for you to stand near the bed, his smirk fading into something more serious, though his playfulness never completely disappeared.

“We're putting on a show, right?” he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Might as well give him something to really lose his mind over."

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed his words. This whole thing was a game—one meant to drive Jay crazy—but there was something in the way Haechan was looking at you now that made it feel a little too real.

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Jay was getting closer, tension growing thicker with each passing second.

Without thinking, you took a step toward Haechan. He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see what you would do next.

You reached up, touching the side of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes locked with yours, full of unspoken words. At that moment, you knew this was more than just a plan to him.

"You're right," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. "It's time for the real show."

Haechan's eyes widened slightly at your words, his breath hitching in anticipation. Without another word, you took a step closer and then another, until you were just inches apart. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it was intoxicating.

As Jay reached the door and saw the two of you so close together, he froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. It was clear that he had never expected things to go this far.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Haechan. His lips met yours in a rush of heat and urgency.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist and pull you into him even closer, deepening the kiss even more. 

As your lips moved together, you could sense Haechan's eagerness, his fingers trailing along your skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you. 

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist a little harder than before as he pushed you softly onto the bed. 

The room seemed to spin around you as Haechan hovered over you, his gaze intense and filled with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. Jay's shocked silence from the doorway only added to the adrenaline.

Haechan's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he peppered more along your collarbone. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Haechan's hands roamed over your body. 

Haechan pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. Once he saw that you weren’t uncomfortable, he grabbed the bottom of your dress and moved it up slightly to expose more skin. 

Haehcan groaned slightly as he saw your panties were starting to get wet. 

“Mmm all for me?” He traced his fingers along the edge of your lace underwear before looking back up at you with a teasing smile that made your heart race even faster than it already was. 

You nodded slightly in response and bit your lower lip nervously.

“Use your words, princess. Haechan murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above a murmur. "All for you."

The words sent a wave of pleasure through Haechan's body as he leaned down, his lips just brushing against your neck, sending more chills down your spine. 

"You’re such a good girl for me," Haechan growled, his voice low with lust.

Before you could respond, he pulled your dress up further, exposing even more of your body completely to him. His eyes lingered on your panties for a moment before he pulled them aside, gently tracing the outer edges of your folds with his finger. 

A soft moan escaped your lips as Haechan’s finger brushed against your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, Haechan,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Haechan smirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

He leaned down, slowly tracing his tongue along the outline of your panties before pulling them off completely. 

You shivered as he gently blew on your heated skin.

“You ready?” Haechan murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, but you nodded quickly, desperate for more of his touch.

Haechan gently pushed your legs apart, revealing yourself to him completely. He stared at you for a moment, taking in every detail of your aroused body before leaning down to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips were warm and soft, sending shivers through you with every touch. As he trailed kisses higher and higher, your breath hitched.

A soft moan escaped from between your lips as Haechan's tongue flicked against the sensitive lips. He continued to tease you, his touch never quite reaching the place you desperately wanted him to be.

You squirmed beneath him, desperate for his touch, but he refused to give in. The teasing was almost unbearable. Your heart raced as you felt him moving closer, but still, he denied you.

Finally, just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Haechan pushed your legs further apart and dove between them without holding back. His tongue danced across your heated skin as he explored every inch of you.

Your back arched off the bed as you felt him start to get hard on your leg. You threw your head back, gasping for air as a wave of pleasure hit you.

Haechan continued, his tongue never faltering in its job to bring you to a place of pleasure. You felt amazing. 

It wasn't long before the pleasure became too much to bear. A strong climax exploded through you. 

You moaned his name, the sound echoing through the room as you came apart in his arms, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Once your body has relaxed, your breaths came in ragged gasps as you tried to catch your breath. 

Haechan laid beside you, his eyes locked on your face as he continued to pant softly.

As you came back down to earth you got up from the bed, making Haechan sit up to watch what you were doing. 

You got onto your knees right in front of him.

"Now it’s your turn," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. You could see the hunger in Haechan's eyes, causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

Haechan raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief lurking in his expression. 

As he sat there, his gaze locked on yours, he slowly undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. 

You couldn't help but gaze at him as he stood there before you, every inch of him screaming for your touch. 

Your heart raced as you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing a path down his chest and onto his stomach.

He shivered as your touch reached his stomach, but he didn't stop you. You continued to explore every inch of him, your fingers tracing the definition of his muscles, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you hesitated for a moment, uncertainty playing in your mind. But Haechan's eyes never left yours, urging you on.

With a deep breath, your hand dipped beneath the waistband, your fingers brushing against him. A soft moan escaped his lips, his eyes flickering shut for a moment before he opened them again, meeting yours once more.

You wrapped your hand around him gently, feeling him grow harder in your grasp. The warmth from him was intoxicating. 

As you began to stroke him slowly, his eyes searched yours. 

With a soft nod, you conveyed your permission through your eyes. And Haechan's gaze darkened, and his hunger became more pronounced. He reached out and slid your dress up and off, his fingers tracing down your arms as he removed it.

As the garment fell away, Haechan pulled you closer and gently moved your hair away from his face. 

You moved closer to him as you licked the tip of his length. 

Haechan let out a soft groan as your tongue flicked against him. You took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the taste of him. Haechan's eyes fluttered shut as you moved your tongue. 

Haechan let out a small gasp as he hit the back of your throat, enjoying every second of it. You swirl your tongue around him.

He watched you intently, his eyes drinking at the sight of you on your knees before him, your hair falling down your back.

You lapped at him gently, your tongue tracing circles around his head. Haechan's hands gripped your hair tight, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold onto something in this moment.

As you felt him start to thrust into your mouth, you took him deeper, your throat contracting around him as he began to lose control.

Haechan groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter, pulling you deeper into himself. His hips bucked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tense as he was looking for his release.

You could feel his arousal growing more intense within your grasp. The sight of Haechan losing control above you sent shivers down your spine.

Finally, with a loud groan, Haechan thrust deep into your throat, a wave of pleasure washing over him as he came. 

You felt his hot seed fill your throat, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Your body shook as Haechan's release flooded your senses, and you savored every moment of it. As he began to soften, you gently withdrew from him, the evidence of what happened dripping from your lips.

Haechan's eyes fluttered open, and he pulled you into his arms, his mind blurred with pleasure. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth, tasting himself on you.

As the two of you pulled away from each other you looked at the door and noticed Jay was gone. Not even noticing that he left.

You exchanged a knowing look with Haechan, both of you smiling. It seemed like the plan worked. 

As you disentangled yourselves from each other, Haechan glanced down at your still-dripping lips. "We should probably clean up," he said, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, feeling heat in your cheeks as you headed back to the bathroom that was connected to the room.

As you cleaned up, you couldn't help but start to feel a little embarrassed. But Haechan's gentle touch and reassuring words made you feel at ease once again. He helped you clean up, his hands moving gently over your body as he wiped away the evidence of what just happened.

As the water ran into the sink, the two of you stood close, your eyes meeting in the mirror above. 

When you were finished cleaning up, Haechan led you back to the bed, making sure to shut the door this time before making himself comfortable in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You could feel his heart beating against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur.

“We can’t stay here.” You whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

Haechan's arms tightened around you, his grip comforting and reassuring. “It’s Mark’s room, I already asked if we could use it.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but it was better than going home this tired.

As you snuggled closer to Haechan, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

"Thank you," you hum.

Haechan whispered back, “Shhh don’t thank me."

Soon after, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and drifting off to the sound of each other's breathing. And as you slept, the two of you knew that whatever was going on between you just got a lot more serious.

As you slumped into your seat at the dining hall, Chenle grinned at you from across the table. “Why do you look like you just went through hell?”

You glared at him. “Thanks, Chenle. Needed that today.”

Before you could respond, Jaemin chimed in with a smug look. “She went to Mark’s party last night.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by how he knew. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Life360,” Jaemin said, cutting you off with a proud grin. “I check everyone’s location before I go to sleep.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Of course you do.”

Chaeryeong, who had been quietly listening, suddenly leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Hold up…are we just going to ignore the fact that you went to Mark’s party without us?”

You sighed, already sensing the upcoming interrogation. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—”

“Please tell me you didn’t go with Jay!” Jaemin interjected, shaking his head like he couldn’t even believe it.

“No!” you snapped back, fed up with hearing his name.

“Then who?” Jeno asked, leaning in with curiosity.

You hesitated, looking around the table before mumbling, “Haechan…”

The silence that followed was loud. Chaeryeong’s jaw dropped while Chenle and Jeno exchanged glances. Jaemin was the first to break the silence, raising an eyebrow.

 “Haechan? Seriously?”

The table went silent again, all eyes turning to you as your last word hung in the air.

“Haechan?” Chaeryeong echoed, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You went to a party with Haechan and didn’t tell us?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face. “It wasn’t like that.”

Chenle smirked, clearly entertained. “I don’t know… going to a party together, leaving us out of the loop—seems kinda suspicious.”

You groaned again, feeling their eyes on you like a shot light. 

“It’s not what you think!”

“Then you better start explaining,” Chaeryeong said, crossing her arms. “Because we all know how this sounds.”

“I didn’t even plan to go! He convinced me at the last minute,” you defended yourself, glancing around the table. “And then Jay showed up, so Haechan… helped me avoid him.”

Jeno let out a small laugh. “So Haechan was your knight in shining armor, again?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted to mess with Jay. It wasn’t about me.”

“Still,” Chaeryeong leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically, “Did you spend the night with him?”

Instead of responding, you groaned and buried your face in your hands, too exhausted to deal with the flood of questions.

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically. “Oh my God! You did sleep with him, didn’t you?!”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “I promise it was all part of a plan!”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “A plan? What kind of plan involves you sleeping with Haechan?”

Chenle leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, I’m dying to hear this one.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We knew Jay would hate it, okay? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened even more. “Wait—So how did Jay know you two slept together?!”

“Well— um, he was right outside the door…” 

Chaeryeong’s jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Wait. Wait. Jay heard you two through the door?!”

You squirmed in your seat, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares. “Not just heard us...”

Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He watched you two have sex?!”

Chenle, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t know you were into that,”

”I’m not!” You tried to defend yourself, “and it wasn’t even full-on sex!” 

Chenle let out a high-pitched laugh, and Jeno shook his head, “Let me get this straight…You gave Haechan a blowjob while Jay was watching…” 

“I mean if you put it like that it sounds weird…” 

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with shock and amusement. “Oh my God, Y/n!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again. “It wasn’t like that!” you tried to explain, your voice muffled by your hands. “It just… happened!”

Chenle was practically doubled over with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honestly, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

Jeno sighed, trying to hold back his grin. “Okay, but seriously, what are you going to do now? You can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know.”

Jaemin looked at you sympathetically, his voice softer now. “Do you like him?”

You took a deep breath and didn’t answer. 

The table fell silent, everyone waiting for your response. You could feel their eyes on you, especially Jaemin, as he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you exhaled, avoiding their gazes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

 “It’s all so confusing. I didn’t expect any of this to happen, and now… I don’t know how I feel.”

Chaeryeong, always the first to jump in, sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t know, that’s already saying something. Maybe there’s more to this than you think.”

Chenle, now composed from his earlier laughing fit, added, “Honestly if it was just to get back at Jay, you wouldn’t be this torn up about it.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You’ve got to figure out if this was just a one-time thing or if there’s something between you and Haechan.”

Jaemin stayed quiet, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to not have all the answers yet,” he said gently. “But don’t ignore how you’re feeling just because it’s complicated.”

You groaned, “I’m just going to pretend like nothing happened and avoid him.” 

The group groaned in unison, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s what we said not to do, Y/n,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “You can’t just avoid the guy forever.”

Chaeryeong crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “And you know Haechan. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

Chenle leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “Plus, avoiding him will just make him chase you even more.” You sighed, slumping in your chair.

Jaemin gave you a soft smile, his eyes kind. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. Just… don’t run away from it. If you need time, take it, but don’t bury your feelings.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of their advice. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to him… eventually.”

The group exchanged knowing looks, but no one pushed you further. At least, not yet.

It’s settled, you're going to avoid him. But of course, that didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped. Every time you tried to slip past him, he somehow spotted you first. It became a game of cat and mouse.

The awkwardness grew with each interaction, especially when you’d catch his eyes from across a room and immediately turn to flee. And as if that weren’t bad enough, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Texts, missed calls, even voice messages. Haechan was relentless.

“Y/n, can we talk? This is ridiculous.”

“Avoiding me isn’t gonna make this disappear.”

“At least hear me out before running.”

You groaned every time your phone lit up with his name. The tension built up so much that even your friends were getting fed up with your avoidance tactic.

“I told you he wouldn’t just drop it,” Chenle teased, scrolling through his phone as you sat together in the library.

Jaemin, who was sitting next to you, gave a gentle nudge. “You can’t keep this up forever, Y/n.”

You knew they were right, but the idea of actually facing Haechan—after everything—felt overwhelming. What would you even say? What did he want to say? The questions kept swirling in your mind, making it harder to act.

A small cough interrupted your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. You glanced up to see Haechan standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and a determined look on his face. The library was quiet, and it felt like the world had paused at that moment. 

“How?” You looked back at your two friends who tried not to make eye contact with you.

”Traitors…” You mumbled.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice steady but it was laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You felt your heart race, the urge to run was almost overwhelming. “Not here,” you managed to reply, glancing nervously at your friends who were pretending to be absorbed in their work.

Haechan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to make this awkward, but avoiding me isn’t helping either. Can we go outside? Just for a minute?”

You hesitated, torn between wanting to confront your feelings and wanting to run away. The library felt suffocating, and with each passing moment, it seemed you had no choice but to face the situation head-on.

“Fine,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself. You stood up, feeling your friends’ eyes on you as you walked past Haechan and out of the library.

Once outside, the crisp air hit you, momentarily clearing your head. Haechan followed closely, and you turned to face him, arms crossed defensively.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

“I want to explain,” he said, his expression earnest.

“What happened that night… it wasn’t just a plan to get back at your ex for me.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “Then what was it?” you challenged, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.

“It was confusing. You’re confusing,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you…”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy. You felt your heart flutter despite your better judgment. “One chance,” you said finally, your voice steady but low. 

“You get one chance.”

Haechan’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “One chance? That’s it?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Yeah,” you nodded, crossing your arms defiantly. 

He took a step closer, “All I need is one date, and you will be hooked,” he stated, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that so? You think it’ll be that easy to impress me?”

He leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I know it will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity at his challenge. “And what if you can’t?”

“I will,” he replied, his tone turning serious, “Meet me at my apartment tonight around seven.”

“Tonight?” you echoed.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Haechan responded, determination clear on his face.

“What do you have planned?” you asked, trying to mask your excitement with nonchalance.

Haechan smirked, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust me. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Sounds like you’re setting the bar pretty high,” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice low and enticing. “I’ll make it unforgettable.”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to smile. “Fine, But if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “Just be ready at seven. I’ll pick you up.”

“Thought I was supposed to meet you there,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m a gentleman,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “A gentleman, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Only for you,” he shot back, leaning in a little closer.

“Okay, Mr. Gentleman. Just remember, I’m expecting something impressive,” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed,” he promised, his tone sincere.

Haechan stepped back, breaking the moment slightly. 

“Just focus on being ready. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Fine. Seven it is,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you.

“Perfect,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

As the hours went by, you kept yourself busy getting ready. You were excited, yet you still felt a little sick from your anxiety. You didn’t know what to expect. 

By seven o’clock, you stood in front of the mirror, nerves filling your stomach. After applying the final touches of makeup, you gave yourself one last look.

A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Taking a deep breath before opening the door.

Haechan stood there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted shirt and jeans. “Wow, you look incredible,” he said, his eyes full of awe 

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Taking you back to my place,” he said with a playful smirk, extending his hand to you. “Let’s go.”

“As you walked together, the playful banter made it feel comfortable, just like it had before everything changed.”

Once you reached Haechan’s apartment, two guys walked out, exchanging casual greetings with him as they passed.

“Who were they?” you asked, curiosity growing.

“Just my roommates,” Haechan replied, “The tall one is Jisung, and the short one is Renjun.”

You nodded, glancing at the duo. Jisung gave you a friendly wave while Renjun shot you a playful grin before they disappeared down the hall and leaving you two alone.

“Come on in,” Haechan said, leading you inside. The apartment was cozy, decorated with posters and fairy lights that created a warm atmosphere. In the middle of the living room stood a makeshift pillow fort, complete with blankets draped over furniture and twinkling lights strung inside.

“No way, You remembered?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips as you took in the sight.

Haechan shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Of course, we used to always make pillow forts as a kid.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the nostalgic sight. “I can’t believe you went through the trouble of making a pillow fort just for me,” you said, stepping further inside.

Haechan grinned. “I thought it would be fun. Plus, who doesn’t love a good pillow fort?”

“True,” you replied, chuckling. “I’m already impressed.”

He led you inside the fort, where soft cushions and blankets awaited. The twinkling lights added a magical touch, casting a warm glow around the space. Haechan settled down next to you, leaning back against the pillows.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, eager to know what he had in store for the evening.

“Well,” he began, leaning in closer, “I thought we could watch some movies, eat snacks, and just relax. But first, I have a little surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A surprise?”

He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a couple of your favorite snacks. “I know how much you love these!” he said, grinning as he held them up.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “You went all out, didn’t you?”

Haechan shrugged. “I try. Now, let’s pick a movie. Any preferences?”

You glanced at the selection he had lined up on his laptop. “How about a rom-com?” you suggested, feeling playful.

“Perfect choice,” he said, clicking on a title that caught your eye. As the opening credits rolled, you both settled in, the cozy atmosphere making you feel at ease.

Throughout the movie, you find yourself laughing and stealing glances at Haechan. He seemed so relaxed and in his element, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth growing between you.

As the film reached an over the top romantic scene, you felt your heart race. Haechan turned to you, his gaze searching yours. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s cute,” you replied, trying to hide your flustered state. “But a little unrealistic.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, like how they always seem to have the perfect timing for their big moments.”

“Exactly! Who gets interrupted right before a kiss?” you joked, shaking your head.

“Maybe we should test it,” he suggested, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

You looked at him, your breath hitching slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Haechan leaned in closer, the distance between you closing. Your heart raced as he brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, unsure if you could speak.

Haechan closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours softly. The kiss was gentle at first, but as you melted into the moment, it deepened.

When he pulled back, a playful smile danced on his lips. 

“See, no one interrupted us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, feeling giddy. “You just interrupted your own kiss’’

"I guess I did," Haechan replied.

"So much for perfect timing." You teased. 

Haechan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe we need more practice," he suggested, his tone light but laced with his usual teasing.

You felt your cheeks warm, torn between giving in to the moment and addressing the elephant in the room.

"Haechan," you started, your voice soft but serious,

"What are we doing here? Is this just... fun for you?"

His expression sobered, and he took your hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "It's not just fun," he said, his gaze intense. "I meant what I said earlier. I can't stop thinking about you, Y/n. This... us... it means something to me."

Your heart raced at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what about before? The plan, getting back at my ex..."

Haechan sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I know how it looked. At first, maybe it was about that. But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. You became real for me."

You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. "And now?"

"Now," he said, leaning closer, "I want to see where this goes. For real this time. No games, no plans. Just us."

The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch. You found yourself leaning in. "Just us," you echoed, your lips mere inches from his.

Haechan closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more passionate than the first. You melted into it, your hand finding its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Haechan rested his forehead against yours. "So," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, "Am I living up to my promise of an unforgettable night?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension from earlier dissolving into a warm, giddy feeling. "It's a good start," you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck. "But you still have a lot of work to do."

Haechan grinned, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Challenge accepted," he said with a smirk.

You watched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest, wondering what surprise he had in mind next. "What are you doing?”

"You'll have to wait and see," Haechan replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that had you both anxious and excited to find out.

As Haechan's whispers trailed off, you couldn't help but feel excited. Your heart raced in your chest, and you knew that whatever he had in mind, it was sure to be unforgettable.

He began trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and over your head. The sensation sent a shiver through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Your hands found their way to his back, drawing him closer as his lips continued their trail down your body.

His fingers grazed the delicate skin of your stomach, making you shiver beneath his touch. He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, and you knew he was contemplating your next move. You saw the desire in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel aroused and eager to continue.

His hands drifted downwards, tracing the curve of your hips before gently tugging at your pants. He looked up at you again, seeking permission with his eyes. You nodded, giving him the green light to continue.

As Haechan's fingers danced beneath the waistband of your pants, you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. This was real.

His hands slid beneath your waistband, pulling your pants down slowly, revealing more and more of your skin to him. He kissed his way down your body, his mouth leave a trail of wet kisses.

His fingers trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and demanding, and you responded him with equal passion. You could feel him get harder through the fabric of his clothes, and it made you even wetter.

You pawed at his clothes, silently telling him to take them off. 

Haechan followed your cues, his movements quick as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and stomach. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them.

You stared at him in awe, your eyes locked onto him. His eyes caught yours and a smirk formed on his face. "Miss seeing me like this?" he asked teasingly.

"Mmmh," you replied breathlessly, your gaze traveling from his perfectly toned chest to the definition of his stomach, and finally to the hard bulge in his boxers.

Haechan chuckled and stepped out of the rest of his clothing, standing before you completely naked.

Without another word, he pulled you close to him, his erection pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the desire that kept growing with each passing second. It was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in it.

Haechan's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer as he began to grind against you. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your body responding to his touch.

His lips found yours once again, slipping his tounge in your mouth. 

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs, teasing your already wet folds. You gasped into his kiss, your body arching towards him.

His fingers explored deeper inside you. You could feel his erection pressing against you, begging to be inside you.

"Are you ready for me?" he groaned, his breath warm against your skin. 

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm ready."

Without another moment of hesitation, Haechan positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive skin. You let out a moan as he teased you. 

He slowly pressed inside you, every inch of him filling you up. His eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tip of his cock stretching you open, a feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing each word.

"Perfect," you gasped, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer.

Haechan began to move, his hips thrusting into you with a rhythm that matched your own breathing.

Your hands clawed at his back, holding him close as he moved within you. The sound of his name falling from your lips was like music to his ears- a sound he never wanted to end.

Sweat began to trickle down Haechan's forehead, and the muscles in his arms tensed as he held you close to him. 

As he thrust deeper into you, the walls of your body clenched around him, pulling him closer. His breath grew heavier, and he grabbed your face to look at him. 

Your moans grew louder. The sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh filled the air, joining together with the hurried gasps and heavy breathing.

Your hips met his, matching his rhythm. You could feel your climax building. 

"Donghyuck," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close."

The use of his real name felt different, he felt almost primal as he growled in your ear. "That's it. Come for me baby."

As your body began to tremble, an intense wave of pleasure washing over you, Haechan thrust into you with a faster pace. His eyes locked on yours, he groaned, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back his own release.

"I'm—I'm close too," he gasped, his eyes almost black from the pleasure.

The sound of your name falling from his lips made you feel like you were on the edge of the world. Your body shook as your climax hit its peak.

Just the sight of you orgasming sent Haechan over the edge. With a final thrust, he pulled out and came all over your stomach, painting you with his cum.

Breathless and panting, you watched as he collapsed beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven. You could feel the slickness of your arousal, mixed with his cum, coating your skin

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Haechan pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.

After cleaning up, you and Haechan settled back into the cozy pillow fort. The twinkling lights cast a warm glow as you cuddled close, wrapped in soft blankets. A comfortable silence fell between you.

Haechan gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and a hint of nervousness.

"Y/N," he began softly, "tonight has been amazing. Being with you like this, it just feels right. I know we started this in an unconventional way, but my feelings for you are real."

Your heart fluttered as he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want this to be just one night. I want to build something real with you, to see where this could go." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. "Yes," you replied, squeezing his hand. "I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Haechan's face lit up with joy. He pulled you closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Round two?" he murmured, holding in his laugh as you slapped his chest. 

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[purple-babygirl]

yours to hurt, yours to love

Pairing: (dom)!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader

Word count: 8,050

Summary: They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?

Warnings: 18+ Content: friends with benefits, blowjobs, lots of cum, cum eating, cum in pussy, unprotected vaginal intercourse (don't do that), mentions of cheating, angst, crying, dom x sub dynamics including a sir kink and the use of puppy as a petname, BDSM features including begging, following orders/instructions, mentions of ropes, being tied/suspended, mentions of edging and overstimulation and the use of toys, ass whipping with a belt, mention and use of a safeword, chocking, two insecure idiots being in love, metal arm kink, fingering, rubbing of cock on pussy, multiple orgasms, aftercare. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: this is a self-indulgent fic I wrote simply because I wanted to read and now it's finally done so I'm sharing it with you, babies:"💜💜 I just started at a new job and it's very tiring and energy and time consuming so I thought I'd post something before I get swept up in the real world of numbers and targets and not being broke. I really hope you like this one and I love you all with every bit of me💜

~

As most one-night stands start, they had met at a bar.

She was sitting all alone with her palm hugging a beer bottle, her face carrying the saddest look. She had turned down every guy that had tried to approach her that evening.

Bucky had been watching her all night, lost in deep thought as she barely raised the warming bottle to her lips, the melancholic look marring her features never leaving.

She had only smiled once that night, and it was for Bucky.

She was snapped out of thought when a louder song abruptly came on, startling her back to reality and that was when she saw him.

The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had his eyes on her from the other side of the crowded nightclub, and she found herself smiling at him.

He quickly turned his gaze away, suddenly shy that he was staring.

She wanted to ignore the man, telling herself she had a lot on her plate already, that it would likely be a mistake to go talk to him; that she needed to keep her distance from men for a while at least. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore him.

Even with his back to her, his presence was too strong to simply be ignored.

So she disregarded her minds’ screams and went to talk to him.

Bucky almost chocked on his drink when he saw that it was her who had approached him, but he managed to compose himself.

“Were you ever planning on talking to me?” She teased with a smile as she sat down next to him at the bar.

And just like that, they were talking.

They talked about anything and everything, the deepest things as well as the silliest.

She was so easy to be around and she actually made the man laugh.

She had no idea, but Bucky didn’t think he had even cracked a smile in weeks.

Before she could decide what was right and what wasn’t, she had her lips on his, and before he could overthink it, Bucky was taking her back to his place.

It has been a long time since the man had had the chance to like someone, and he liked her even more when she didn’t make him feel bad about himself that night.

The metal arm didn’t faze her.

She didn’t ask intrusive questions or even let her gaze linger. She treated it just like his other arm, wrapping both around her back as she straddled Bucky on his couch, making out with him like she has been waiting for him her whole life.

But that wasn’t the only reason Bucky appreciated her so much that night.

She had gotten on her knees for him, both of them fully naked at that point, her boobs swaying lightly as her hand pumped his hard cock, lubing him up with his pre-cum.

Her hands were magic and he didn’t want to tell her that he was too close to exploding just from her soft hand palming his tip.

She had barely gotten Bucky in her mouth when he had started cumming all over her.

The sight of his fists clutching the couch, mouth open as groans left his chest while copious amounts of cum covered her mouth, chin, neck and boobs had her wetness dripping down her bare thighs.

When he was back on earth again and his vision was no longer black, Bucky started apologizing profusely when he realized what had happened.

He had come way too fast. All over her. Without her getting to finish even once. He didn’t even get to touch her down there.

Bucky thought she was definitely going to leave.

“It’s okay,” she said with a kind smile as her clean hand caressed up and down one of his thighs, “I don’t mind.”

And before Bucky could explain that it has been a long time for him, she was collecting his cum off her skin with her fingers and slipping them into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the man and almost giving his old heart an attack.

Bucky stared with parted lips, cock already hardening again, as she shut her eyes and moaned over the taste of him.

She had managed to eat every bit of cum that had gotten on her face and neck before Bucky unfroze and lost it.

He grabbed his shirt and hastily wiped her chest clean of his cum before eagerly carrying her to his bed.

He thought her surprised giggle as she called him a “caveman” had to be the sweetest sound he had ever heard until he pushed his cock in her and her wail of his name echoed throughout the quiet bedroom.

Bucky was hooked on the sight of her, the taste of her, the smell of her, and the feel of her.

Her walls were hugging his cock so tight that he thought he wouldn’t be able to get the rest of it inside. Her hands were scratching at his back as she tried to adjust to his size with a silent scream on her face.

“Relax,” Bucky had told her softly.

It was a simple word, but it was the most exhilarating thing when she had immediately listened, her pussy muscles relaxing for him at once, thighs spreading wider to accommodate him better.

Bucky was amazed by her ability to listen to instructions; it awakened an unmatched feeling inside of him.

Once he was buried to the hilt inside of her, Bucky wanted to see what else he could make her do; how much she might obey, so he stayed still.

“I’m ready, you can move.” She had nodded to him, thinking he was waiting on her.

But that wasn’t why Bucky wasn’t moving. He knew she was ready, her juices were ruining his sheets for heaven’s sake.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough…”

He was just giving it a try, and if she didn’t go along with it he would still give her what she wanted—

“Please,” she begged, eyes pleading as she wiggled her hips, “please fuck me, Bucky.”

Fuck.

Bucky couldn’t think much after that, his body moving of its own volition as he pulled out and slammed back inside her pussy.

It was one thrust. One single thrust had her arching her back and shouting out his name.

He completely broke down, fucking her with abandon, just wanting to hear more of her; feel deeper inside of her.

The bedpost slammed against the wall repeatedly as she screamed with every hit of Bucky’s cock to her g-spot.

The way she was scratching his back, whining, wailing and writhing under him as he pounded her into his bed should’ve and could’ve been enough for Bucky, but he couldn’t help but want more.

“Open your eyes,” he gave her another command, knowing it might be hard for her to manage that one with how deep he was giving it to her.

But her eyes were instantly on him, fighting to stay open as his fat cock filled her up again and again.

“Keep looking at me,” Bucky had told her, his right hand coming up to wrap around her neck.

He was slow and gentle, just waiting for her to stop him or refuse what he was doing.

But she had managed to surprise him again because instead, her hand had come up to his, fully wrapping his palm around her throat before showing Bucky the right amount of pressure to apply.

Fuck, she had to be an angel sent specifically to him from heaven. It seemed like whatever god was up there had finally had mercy on him.

She wasn’t only okay with Bucky’s hand being on her neck, she was showing him how to choke her as his cock fucked her raw within an inch of her life too.

Bucky felt his thrusts stutter as he almost came at the sight of her: mouth open with nothing but his name coming out of it, throat held in his palm and eyes battling to stay open as they rolled back in her head, her pussy chocking his cock.

And when he thought she couldn’t get anymore perfect, she started screaming out a request, “can I please cum? Please, Bucky!”

She was asking his permission to let herself feel the pleasure he was so willingly giving her.

Bucky felt high as he groaned, “cum”, and watched her hand hastily come down to rub her clit once, twice before she fell apart around his cock.

Her thighs involuntarily clasped around Bucky as they shook with the rest of her body, her orgasm hitting her like a thousand trains, making her back bow.

Bucky’s hand tightened around her throat the slightest bit as he felt her pussy shutter around his cock and felt himself get closer to his own release, thrusts becoming erratic.

“Please cum inside me, Bucky. Fill me up with your cum, need it,” she pled and the man could only take so much.

Bucky came and he came hard, proving the cum he had painted her body with earlier to be just a sample of what his cock really had to offer.

When they could both breathe normally again, she found herself in his arms, pitching him an idea, too satisfied and full of cum to stop herself and rethink.

And to her happiness, Bucky actually agreed.

~

When they first started that type of deal, she said she didn’t want a relationship.

Bucky respected that and he was okay with it because although he liked her very much, he knew he wasn’t the relationship type himself. He didn’t believe himself fit for romantic relationships. He thought he was too messed up for such stuff.

And she was just like him.

She didn’t know how to be loved; didn’t know how to receive love. She didn’t think she deserved it. She didn’t think she was worth it. Never thought of herself as beautiful enough or attractive enough or lovable enough.

So the dynamic they came up with was their best option.

They were going to be friends with benefits. Except, the benefits were much more extreme than the usual, vanilla sex that would come to mind. So friends with benefits with a fun twist.

After being manipulated for so long, Bucky wanted nothing but to be in charge of his life, body and mind; to be in a position of power where he had the upper hand.

She, on the other hand, needed her freewill to be taken away from her. Being as responsible as she was in her everyday life, she would get too exhausted; drained. She wanted decisions to be made for her as she only obeyed and conformed. She wanted to be used until her head held no thoughts of her deadlines or tasks.

She wanted choking and spanking and bondage. She wanted domination.

Bucky needed to feel in control, and she needed to give up control.

Take mine, she said, take my control away and make it yours.

It was a perfect match. They had clearly communicated their boundaries, wants and needs. They had established their roles, likes and dislikes. And they had agreed on a few simple rules:

It was strictly sex; only sex.

No kissing on the lips no matter what.

No cuddling afterwards even if aftercare took place.

No strings attached.

The safe word meant they stopped; no questions asked.

Bucky wasn’t exactly on board with number 2 because he knew what her lips felt like on his and he wanted more of that. But she said it would only complicate things; that it might get feelings involved and they couldn’t have that.

So he agreed. He really just wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.

And they had almost done it all in 6 months. She had let Bucky tie her down, spank her, choke her, use toys on her, edge her, overstimulate her, fuck her in every position known to humans and on every service that could take their weight and Bucky’s pace.

But deep down, Bucky knew that she still needed more even if she had claimed otherwise.

He knew that she was frequently going on dates in between their sessions, desperately searching for the one that would manage to sweep her off her feet and magically change the way she looked at herself with his unconditional love.

So when she sat with him that one day and told him she wanted to stop what they were doing because she wanted to commit to her new boyfriend, Bucky wasn’t surprised. He was heartbroken, but not surprised.

And so he let her go.

He didn’t want to. He never wanted to. But Bucky knew that he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and so he was going to let her have it with someone else. He needed her like the air he breathed, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand in her way.

Bucky was addicted to her, yes, but he wasn’t going to be selfish and get in the way of her possible happiness with that new boyfriend whoever he was. He just hoped that that new man deserved her.

~

The real surprise came when Bucky opened his door one day and she was standing there looking like an abandoned puppy three months after their last meeting.

Three months without her that have been torture. Three months during which Bucky couldn’t bear the mere idea of bringing another woman to his bed. Three months of replaying their intense scenes in his head with his hand down his pants.

Oh how he missed seeing her choke on his cock. He missed her begging for him to touch her, to relieve her heavy shoulders of everything they had to carry. He missed seeing her come for him so hard that tears would start rolling down her face.

But now she was here, and she didn’t look okay. And it made Bucky realize that he has mostly missed her being her.

“I need you, Buck,” she whispered and he instantly opened the door wider for her.

Bucky let her inside and she climbed on his lap the second he sat down. He held her in his arms on his couch for as long as she needed, internally aching to know what had gotten her looking so dejected.

He knew it had to do with the new man in her life and he could only calm himself down by imagining his fist slamming against the faceless man’s nose.

“What did he do?” Bucky finally broke the silence, making her pull her face from his neck and look at him.

God, she looked so hurt, so broken.

He wished he could fix it, but how could he when he himself needed fixing?

“If I ask you for a favor, would you do it for me?” Her faint voice asked instead, pulling away from their hug.

“You know I will,” Bucky replied without reluctance.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He would do anything for her. He would kill again for her, burn down whole cities and cross oceans on his bare feet for her if she asked him to.

She got up from Bucky’s lap, getting down on her knees before the couch just like the first night he had brought her home, “I want you to punish me, Bucky.”

“What?”

Where did that come from? She wanted to start a session? Now? In that state?

“I want you to spank me. Punish me.” She repeated calmly.

“Doll, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bucky tried to remind her, wanting her to know that whatever that man did to ruin his relationship with her wasn’t her fault.

And he wasn’t seriously about to give her a spanking when she looked like that, so small and worn out and wounded.

“Please, Bucky.”

Damn, she begged so sweetly. But he just couldn’t.

Bucky never thought he would say no to a scene with her, especially a passionate one, but he couldn’t hurt her even more than she looked to be hurting.

That was not what they did this for.

“Doll, get up. Sit down and talk to me,” Bucky said softly, trying to lift her up by the shoulders.

“Buck, you said you’d do it.” A sad frown settled upon her delicate face with a look that Bucky knew well.

She was getting more heartbroken at his rejection. She really did want this. She needed it and she could only come to Bucky for it. How could he keep turning her down?

“Okay, doll. How many?” Bucky asked despite himself, rubbing his palms together.

“Not with your hands,” she said with a smile, getting up and walking inside the bedroom to his closet.

Bucky carded a hand through his long hair as he waited for her to come back with whatever item she was choosing, knowing this was going to be the hardest time he has ever had to cause her pain, even if it was pain she wanted and asked for.

“With this.” She left the belt she brought on Bucky’s lap as she got back to her place by his feet.

“Doll, this is the thickest belt I own,” Bucky told her, wanting to intimidate her into changing her mind.

He needed her to change her mind. He couldn’t hit her with that thing. Not today. Probably not ever.

“I know.” She nodded with the same sure smile.

“Doll, why?” Bucky touched her cheek tenderly, desperate to understand.

If she would just talk to him, he would do his best to fix it. He probably couldn’t, but he was ready to try.

“Please, Bucky. For me, I need this.” She, again, avoided answering his questions.

“This is gonna hurt, doll,” Bucky warned, examining the belt in his lap.

Damn, it was heavy.

“I know. That’s the point.” She nodded in acceptance, “I need it to hurt.”

“Doll.”

“C’mon, Buck, we’ve done this before. You’ve had me dangling from your ceiling for god’s sake!”

He remembered that day. It was a week after she had gotten promoted and everything was becoming too much for her.

She had Bucky suspend her upside down from his ceiling as he spanked her rear raw before getting her down and fucking her into oblivion until all she could worry about was if she would be able to take another orgasm.

She looked even sadder today, and she was asking for far less.

Maybe he could give her what she wanted.

“How many?” Bucky asked again with a clenched jaw, seeing that there was no way he was going to change her mind.

“As many as it takes for me to cry,” she replied and her answer sent a pang into Bucky’s chest.

So that was it. She needed to cry and she couldn’t. She just needed to cry; to give release to her pent-up tears.

Bucky knew that crying was something that she struggled with. He knew that one of the things she loved about what they did was the fact that she could cry during it all; during a spanking, an edging or even an intense orgasm.

But couldn’t it be done any other way this time? Maybe he could make her watch a sad movie or something?

“Doll, if it’s about you crying—”

“Bucky, please,” she stopped him, shaking her head with determination, “please give me this. I need it.”

If she could, she would have cried to get him to say yes faster.

Bucky sighed, glancing at her one final time before asking, “do you remember your safe word?”

“Red.” She smiled gratefully, adrenaline already pumping through her blood in anticipation.

Bucky slipped the hairband on his wrist down to his fingers, pulling his hair in a low bun before taking his shirt off, leaving himself in his white tank top.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he ordered: “strip and get on the bed, puppy. You know your position.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She jumped up, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“What was that?” Bucky’s tone was deeper and his eyes darker.

It has started.

“Thank you, sir,” she quickly corrected herself.

“Go.”

One nod of his head and she was running to the bedroom to do as she was told.

As she took her clothes off, folding them piece by piece and leaving them on the chair in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom, he was outside readying himself for what he was about to do to her.

Bucky had pledged months ago that he would give her anything she needed or wanted during their sessions.

Leaving her fulfilled made him feel fulfilled and the first time he had his bare cock in her, Bucky knew he was wrapped around her littlest finger. It seemed like he was the one in control of those meet ups but control was actually always in her hands.

Now, if what she needed was a spanking to make her cry, Bucky knew how to give it to her, but he didn’t want to. He knew this belt was going to hurt a lot and he wished she would’ve chosen something less bad.

But a deal was a deal and he couldn’t back out now that he knew she was waiting naked on his bed.

She heard Bucky’s heavy steps coming closer and tried to regulate her breathing, reminding herself that she wanted this, that she begged for this, that she deserved this.

She trusted Bucky with her life, not just her body. She knew he was going to stop the minute she said her safe word and that made her a little calmer.

“You ready, puppy?” Bucky asked, gliding the tip of the belt across her bare ass from one cheek to the other.

She shivered, fixing her gaze on Bucky’s bedpost as she whispered, “yes, sir.”

And just like that came the first spank.

But it didn’t hurt, not like she had expected, not at all.

Bucky was going easy on her; too easy.

She didn’t like it.

“Harder, please,” she begged, lowering her head and sticking her ass out.

“Doll—”

“Bucky, please, you promised,” she pled, her voice thick with frustration at her inability to get what she needed from the one person who could give it to her.

Another spank came, a little stronger than the first, but still not enough.

“Did your arm get rusty in those three months?” She threw angrily, raising her eyes to glare at Bucky, “hit me like a man!”

Bucky knew she was just trying to rile him up, make him angry enough so that he would actually hurt her and even though he didn’t want to, he decided he would finally give her what she came for.

“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing her face into his pillows by the hair and she immediately gave him a full view of her lower half, ass in the air and thighs spread.

He wasn’t going to be able to look at her face as he hurt her this time.

Bucky took a deep breath before finally giving her a real whip and she gasped at the force of it, “is that what you wanted, puppy?”

“Getting close,” she moaned, her words muffled into the pillows as she wiggled her ass for him.

Another similar spank hit her and then another and another until suddenly her body was getting hotter and her butt sorer.

She needed more. Just a little more to break the dam and get suffocating thoughts and burning tears out.

“More, please, sir,” she begged, voice so desperate that it had Bucky swallowing.

He gave an experimental whip on her thighs and she let out a startled scream.

“What’s your color?” Bucky asked at once, hesitant that he might have actually hurt her.

“Green.” Came her reply as she looked up to Bucky, “green, sir, please.”

She was begging for more of this.

Bucky recomposed himself and spanked her thighs with the belt again and she wailed out a “yes, thank you, sir!”, urging him on.

For the first time ever, however, Bucky was not enjoying this. He was not enjoying causing her pain and he was not enjoying knowing that he was supposed to make her cry by the end of it all.

His whips got faster and harder as his thoughts ran wild with worry, just wanting to get this over with as her moans and cries egged him on.

“Color?”

“Green!” She would answer every time he checked in with her.

Pictures of her boyfriend in bed with another woman flashed throw her mind and she stuck her ass out more, hiding her ashamed face in Bucky’s pillows. He let her touch him the way only she was supposed to touch him. He made her shout out in pleasure the way she never did with him. He made her scream his name; the name that was supposed to only roll off her tongue during intimate times.

Her mind kept replaying it all, making her squirm and stick her butt out further. She wanted it all to stop.

She needed this. She deserved this. She was stupid.

“Thank you, sir,” she muttered, a lump finally forming in her throat.

It seemed like whatever had happened this time, had been so bad that the normal amount of whips weren’t enough to get her mind off of it. She was still her, well out of sub space and still very much aware of the ache in her heart.

She needed that ache to move somewhere else, preferably to her ass.

“More, sir, please.”

Bucky’s shoulder started to slightly ache as he kept whipping her, again and again, just wanting it to be over so he could comfort her after as he heard her sniffles, and finally, with a particularly harsh spank on her lower thighs she screamed out, “red!”.

Bucky’s arm stopped immediately, dropping the belt on the floor as he listened as her soft cries get louder.

She burrowed her face in his pillow and let it all out, sobs wracking her entire body as she cried her bleeding heart out.

“Doll,” he whispered, regret filling him at the sight of her body trembling with each wail she let out of her chest.

He looked at her lower body and her ass and thighs were a crime scene, her skin painted in angry red welts all over.

“Please, leave me alone, Buck,” she wept, her face still hidden in his pillow.

“Let me take care of you, doll—”

“No, no. Just leave me,” she pleaded without turning to him.

“At least let me put something on your skin—”

“Please just leave me alone. Please, Bucky,” she sobbed harder, her fingers clutching the side of the pillow as she let her tears flow.

Bucky reluctantly left the room, giving her the space she asked for as guilt ate away at his heart.

He shouldn’t have listened to her. He shouldn’t have done that to her.

It was only when he sat down on the couch outside that he had realized how hard he had actually whipped her. His right shoulder ached, a few strands of his hair were out of place and sweat had forced by his hairline. All the realization did was make him feel more terrible about himself.

He knew he has done it before so many times, but this time was different.

She came to him hurt emotionally and instead of helping her feel better, he ended up hurting her physically too.

She did ask for it, but he could have said no. He could’ve insisted on not doing it.

The sound of her cries seemed never-ending and was absolutely heart-wrenching to listen to. Bucky could all but cover his ears to prevent it from reaching him as he beat himself up for causing it all again and again.

She winced as she sat up on the messy bed, hand on her naked chest as she tried to calm herself down, still hiccupping while her cries slowed down.

God, she had needed this so bad. She had needed it for days and she was so grateful for Bucky for giving it to her.

Being able to cry and let everything out was a blessing that people didn’t appreciate enough; one she was kind of deprived of and had to do a lot to get to enjoy.

When her heartbeat was somewhat slower and her tears have ceased, she slowly pulled herself down the bed and on her wobbly feet.

She looked out to the living room from the bedroom door to see Bucky back on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands and she knew he was blaming himself.

So she wiped her tears as much as she could and went back inside. She opened the drawer she knew too well and pulled out the Calendula cream Bucky had bought specifically for her.

She carefully walked to Bucky. She didn’t want him to feel guilty so she made sure not to wince as she took her steps.

She had wanted this. She had asked for it because she had needed it and he only helped her. She wasn’t going to let him berate himself for that.

She left the cream on the coffee table and gently removed Bucky’s hands from his face, guiding him to rest his back on the couch so she could sit herself back across his lap.

Bucky stopped her, standing up to take his pants off so that the material wouldn’t rub against her sensitive skin.

She smiled, her heart lurching at his gentleness and thoughtfulness.

He let her manipulate him into position, closely watching her red-rimmed eyes and swollen nose and lips as she made herself as comfortable as possible on his lap, the new lashes covering her behind out of his sight for now.

Bucky hugged her close, his hands stroking up and down her bare back as she pushed her nose in its place in the crook of his neck, “thank you.” She breathed gratefully.

Bucky only patted her back, pulling her closer in reply. He knew she meant her thanks, but he was still mad at himself for doing it.

She pulled back and let him take her in for a second before leaning in, making Bucky swallow.

“Now fuck me,” she whispered on his lips, grinding down on his covered cock despite the pain it gave her every time she rubbed her inflamed skin on Bucky’s boxers.

“Doll, I think you’ve had enough for today,” Bucky sighed, softly trying to get her off of him.

“Please, just once. I won’t ask for anything else.” She pleaded, her hands clutching the material of Bucky’s tank top, not wanting to leave his lap.

She didn’t want to be away from him. She just got here.

“Doll, give me the cream so I can take care of you,” he demanded, trying to maintain a stern tone so she would listen.

“You can take care of me this way too!” She whined, needy and desperate as she ground herself harder, smiling when she found him hard beneath her.

“I can’t, doll. I can’t. You’re hurt.” Bucky shook his head, gently pushing her to the side and getting up before she could straddle him again.

“Please, Buck,” she croaked out, on the verge of crying again as she grabbed onto his waist, “please don’t walk away.”

“Do you promise not to try anything if I sit back down?” He asked although he knew the answer.

“But I need you!” Anguished tears rolled down her flushed cheeks, “just one orgasm. Please, just one.”

Her constant begging was making Bucky’s cock leak inside his briefs, hard as a rock as he tried his best not to give in.

He had missed her so damn much, but this wasn’t right.

“Doll, come on, quit it. You’re hurt—”

“I haven’t cum in three months.” She cut him off, sniffling as more tears left her eyes, “he— he couldn’t— please.” She begged yet again, her hands cravingly clawing at Bucky’s tank top, wanting him to be close again.

“What?!” Bucky sat back down, wiping her tears away as he took her back into his arms.

She nodded in shame as she cast her eyes down, burrowing her face in his shoulder, “he couldn’t make me cum”.

“Not even with his mouth?”

“Especially not with his mouth,” she muttered, hating the memory of a different man touching her.

“And you didn’t get yourself off?”

She shook her head, still embarrassed as she hid from him.

“Why not?!”

“Couldn’t touch myself without your permission.” She looked up to him, her teary eyes sincere.

Bucky let himself just look at her for a beat longer.

She was with another man that she supposedly wanted to be committed to, but she still followed Bucky’s rules during that relationship.

“I can make you cum, doll,” Bucky said, his gaze darkening, “but I have one condition.”

“Anything,” she whispered, desperate for his touch, his lips, his cock.

She had missed Bucky beyond compare.

“Allow me to break a rule.”

“What—”

“I need to kiss you, baby.”

She smiled, her heart relieved despite its fluttering as she answered by pressing her lips to Bucky’s.

He laid her on her back on his couch, careful not to rub himself against her lower region as he devoured her lips. Bucky sighed on her lips, the first taste always the best.

He hasn’t tasted those lips in nine months, since their very first time together. He remembered them tasting of beer back then, but today it was chocolate lacing her tongue.

It was Bucky’s turn to be desperate as he ate up her whimpers, his tongue dancing with hers as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to gobble her up, get as close to her as possible, taste every inch and swallow every whine.

He realized he couldn’t get as close as he wanted without his boxers scratching the welts on her sore skin.

Bucky pulled away for a second, leaving her to chase his mouth as he chuckled.

She whined, making grabby hands at him.

When he was done taking his boxers off, he got back on top of her, tenderly pushing her legs to her chest to keep them from bumping against the couch before slotting himself between her open legs as his mouth found its way back to hers.

“I can’t believe I let you take this away from me for so long,” he groaned, biting down on her lower lip.

She moaned in reply, pushing her hips up so she could get his cock to stroke against her.

She couldn’t believe she had deprived herself of those kisses either because she knew that she had fallen for the man anyways.

One swipe had Bucky hissing as he felt how wet she was under him. He has needed her for so long, not letting himself find any kind of relief with another woman in her absence.

“Do you want my fingers, doll?”

“No, no, gimme your cock, Bucky, please,” she pleaded, squirming on her back on the couch, pushing her hips up.

“I can’t do that, baby. You know it. It would be too much,” he sighed, his thumb stroking her cheek.

“Bucky, please. I can take it. I’ve taken worse!”

“I can’t. I can’t hurt you anymore, doll.” Bucky admitted, his hand sliding her hair behind her ear.

“Bucky,” she whined and his eyes gave her a firm look, making her shut up at once.

“It’s either my fingers or you get nothing, puppy. What do you want?”

“Your fingers, sir,” she replied obediently, pulling her legs further against her chest to give him all the access he would need.

“That’s a good puppy.” Bucky smiled, thumb circling her swollen clit.

“Please,” she breathed, already throwing her head back at the simple touch.

Bucky chuckled, though he was internally fuming at the fact that she was with a ‘man’ who didn’t make her cum for three whole months, “ready for the first one, puppy?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly.

Bucky carefully slipped two of his metal fingers inside of her dripping cunt, groaning at the tightness he has missed so much, “I know this hand’s your favorite”.

“I thought you said one!” She moaned in surprise, pushing down on his fingers still.

“I meant first orgasm, puppy,” Bucky laughed, scissoring his fingers inside of her, opening her up exactly like he knew she liked.

And when he curled his fingers just right? She was wailing out the yes’s and thank you’s like it was the last time she would ever get fingered in her life.

“Fuck, baby, squeezing my fingers so hard already,” Bucky groaned, the tips of his vibranium fingers nudging her sweet spot with every indulging thrust, massaging and abusing until he saw her thighs quiver with her first orgasm.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed as Bucky let her come down from her high, fingers slowing down their movements without leaving her leaking pussy.

“Thank me when we’re done, doll.” He smirked, twisting his fingers inside of her.

Bucky got them out for a second only to slip back three fingers instead of two, feeling her cunt hungrily swallow them as she cried out at the delicious stretch.

He bit his lip, shaking his head as he got to business, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much”.

~

“How we feeling, puppy?” Bucky asked her as he saw her legs tense again.

“So good, so so good, sir. Thank you,” she sobbed in pleasure, feeling her thighs shake for the fifth time that afternoon.

“You’re such a good puppy, cumming so hard for me,” Bucky groaned, feeling the pull of her pussy as he tried to take his fingers out, moving them on her clit instead, “keep cumming baby”.

“I can’t take anymore. Please, I can’t.” She shook her head as she tried to squirm away from Bucky’s skilled fingers.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky chuckled, raising one hand up in surrender as his other went into his mouth.

She was gasping for air as she let her legs go, grimacing when her ass touched the couch. She raised her thighs back up, opening them when Bucky hovered over her body for another kiss.

His cock swiped against her sensitive pussy, making her clench when she felt how hard he was. Bucky was so hard it must be getting painful by now.

“Bucky, I can do one more,” she said against his lips.

“Oh you getting greedy on me, puppy?” Bucky smiled, instantly complying as he brought his hand down between their bodies.

She shivered at the mere tracing of his fingers on her pussy lips, “not with your fingers.”

“Come on now, baby, I thought we’ve already talked about this,” Bucky said, ready to pull away from her body.

“You don’t have to put it inside.” She held onto his waist with all her might, “just rub it on me. I can take that.”

“Baby,” Bucky hesitated, his resolve getting weaker as he imagined the feeling of her silky, drenched pussy under his cock.

“Please, Bucky, just rub it on my pussy. Use me. Make yourself cum.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Bucky whispered, getting hold of his cock.

He swiped the tip between the lips of her cunt, moaning lewdly at the feeling he had missed for months.

She was so wet, so sensitive and so soft.

Bucky was never one to cum fast; not after his very first time with her. But she looked so good under him, already fucked out of her mind. She felt even better and he could only handle so much.

He couldn’t believe she was going to make him cum this quick just by letting him nudge her pussy with the tip of his cock.

“Fuck, baby, this beautiful pussy’s gonna make me bust and I didn’t even get to fuck her!” Bucky groaned, feeling his abs get taut as he tried to hold off his orgasm for as long as physically possible.

He didn’t know where to look; she looked gorgeous everywhere and it was making it harder for him not to cum right then and then.

“I’m cumming,” she gave a shout before shaking underneath him for the sixth time.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me, doll.” Bucky groaned, squeezing at his base to hold his orgasm off.

“Slip the tip inside me, Buck,” she begged, still catching her breath and writhing underneath him needily as if he hadn’t just given her five mind-blowing orgasms on his fingers.

He shook his head, trying to focus on not cumming.

“Please, Bucky, just the tip.”

“Shit, don’t say stuff like that.” Bucky’s head tipped back as he closed his eyes for a second to keep from staring into her imploring ones.

“Please, Bucky. Give me your cum. I missed being filled up of your cum so much.” She begged further, “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I never doubted you, puppy.” Bucky opened his eyes, pressing his lips to hers at once.

“Then give it to me,” she moaned on his lips, holding his face close to hers by the cheek, “give me all of your cum, Bucky. Fill me up until I’m leaking all over myself and your couch.”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t hold back anymore. You wanna be filled up? I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, popping the fat tip of his cock inside her pussy.

She arched her back for Bucky, desperate to feel more of him, “thank you.”

She missed this cock stretching her to her limits so bad. She missed its girth and its veins and the hot cum it paints her walls with.

Bucky could all but let go at the first clench of her pussy, feeling his cum shoot inside of her until it had filled her up to the brim.

He watched her sigh in satisfaction, a smile spreading on her sweet face as Bucky’s hot load filled up her pulsating cunt.

Bucky reluctantly slipped out of her, watching his cum leak out of her ruined pussy, “oh thank you, doll.”

She couldn’t keep her thighs off the couch anymore, body limp and exhausted. She hissed once again when her raw skin touched the rough couch but didn’t pull her legs back up.

Bucky sighed, kissing her forehead lovingly before going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.

He tried to be gentle as he moved around her skin, wiping away the cum and the sweat. He went to leave the cloth in the bathroom and when he came back, she was tiredly perching herself on his lap.

Bucky smiled, taking the calendula cream from the coffee table to finally rub some against her marked butt and thighs. Aftercare was the most important part and he wasn’t about to forego it.

“How the hell did he fail at making you cum?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask as his palm rubbed circles on her sore skin.

“I guess it was me and my unorgasmable pussy.” She chuckled, making Bucky even madder at the man.

He had caused her to think there was something wrong with her and her body?

“Seems pretty orgasmable to me, doll. He’s the one with a broken penis.” Bucky grunted, focusing on keeping his touch gentle on her skin.

“Could make the other girl cum just fine, so not that broken.” She mumbled into her forearms as she rested her chin on them, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

“What?”

Now Bucky really was angry.

“He cheated on me.”

Her voice was so sad, so shattered.

“Doll,”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was even something to say to make this better.

“Yeah, found them together in his bed and everything. They do try to cover up with the white bed sheet just like the movies.” She chuckled again.

She was making jokes, trying to make light of her pain like she always would, but Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Doll, I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.”

“It’s fine, really. Doesn’t come as a surprise to me that I wasn’t enough for him.”

“It isn’t fine and you are enough. You’re everything.”

“Bucky, you don’t have to—”

“Be my girl.”

“What?” Her head whipped back so fast, thinking she must have imagined the words.

“Forget about the rules and the deal and forget about our fears. Be my girl, doll,” Bucky repeated.

“Buck, I—”

“I know I’m messed up beyond repair, but if there’s one thing I can’t mess up, it’s loving you, doll. And if I suck at it, let me die trying my best for you.”

“Why’d you have to go and talk about dying now!” She sat back up, not waiting for her skin to fully absorb the cream as she straddled him again.

Her body was hot all over as she took it his words; words she had imagined him saying while standing alone in the shower so many times before that she’d lost count.

“Be my girl.” Bucky smiled, “let me love you like you deserve, doll.”

“You—”

“Yes. I love you,” Bucky admitted, shrugging, his blunt nails clawing at the small of her back nervously.

“You love me love me?”

“I love you love you.” His palms flattened against the small of her back as he nodded with a bigger smile.

“I love you love you!” She exclaimed angrily, “why didn’t you say anything!” She punched Bucky’s chest.

“Ow!” Bucky laughed, holding her hand midway before she could hit him again, “I didn’t think I deserved you.” He kissed her fist.

The gesture left her quiet as a smile formed on her face despite herself.

She cupped Bucky’s cheek and kissed his lips softly, “you’re an idiot.”

“Still think I don’t deserve you, doll. But I can’t pretend like I’m not madly in love with you anymore.”

He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, shocked.

“Bucky, what are you talking about? If anything, I don’t deserve you!”

“Baby, you deserve the whole world.”

“I don’t want the whole world!” She threw her hands in the air, “just one idiot who would hold me on his lap after a good spanking,” she mumbled shyly, making Bucky laugh.

“This one idiot is all yours if you’d have him, doll.” Bucky’s smile was for once reaching his eyes as he brought her in for another kiss.

“I love you,” she repeated, throwing her body around his, holding him tight, fearing it might be a dream.

“I love you too, baby. I don’t deserve you but fuck I love you so much it keeps me up at night like a teenager,” he confessed in her hair, his big hand pressing her closer to him.

“Stop saying that.” She looked him in the eyes, “you deserve everything good in this whole universe and then some. I just hope I could be enough.”

“Could be enough— doll, you’re enough. You’re just right. The exact amount. You’re it. You’re the best for me and the only one I want.”

She didn’t know what to say to that so she put her lips on Bucky’s again and let the kiss demolish her fears and insecurities.

She was in Bucky’s arms and she was enough. She was safe and loved.

This was Bucky. Bucky, who was never intimidated by her professional success. Bucky, who has met her at her worst. Bucky, who has never done her wrong. Bucky, who has gotten to see the real, raw her and never turned away.

It was in that very moment that she realized that running away from Bucky to find love with other men was the worst crime she had committed against herself because now the mere idea of being out of this man’s arms and heart was too illogical and incredulous to even consider.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated on her lips as they caught their breaths.

And she could see it all in his loving, blue eyes as they adored every inch of her face: she was home and she was never getting lost again.

~

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Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You think Miguel is avoiding you. 

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

_

_

[7seas-of-ryy]

The Bet

Author’s Note: I had a long day at work and wanted to write something happy :)) I hope you like it!

Summary: Who will be able to get Azriel to laugh first?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: none, let me know if I need to add any :)

“What’s so funny?” You mumbled as you crossed your arms.

You had asked Cassian and Rhys about the shadowsinger’s sense of humor. The pair had just given each other a look and howled with laughter.

“Az?? A sense of humor??” Cass choked out through his laughter.

“That’s a good one Y/N!” Rhys said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

“Will you guys be serious!” You scolded the two males.

“Az doesn’t laugh at jokes.” Rhysand told you.

“Orrr maybe you two just aren’t funny?” You said with a smirk.

“What? And you think you’re so funny?” Rhys questioned.

“Definitely funnier than you two.” You told them.

“That is the most hurtful thing anyone has ever said to me.” Cassian stated, putting his hand on his chest.

“How about a bet?” Rhys smirked.

Cassian clapped his hands, always up for a challenge. A large grin grew on your face, already feeling confident even though you didn’t know the bet.

“We all get one shot to get Azriel to laugh. Whoever wins gets free drinks for a night at Rita’s.” Your High Lord told you and Cassian.

“I’m in!” Cass exclaimed.

“Oh you two are so going down.” You told them.

---

Azriel had been sitting at the table eating breakfast when Cass walked in. You and Rhys were discreetly watching from another room, looking to see if he could crack Az.

“Hey Az-” Cassian spoke before tripping over a chair and falling dramatically, hitting his head on the way down.

“You ok?” Az spoke and then took another bite without getting up from his spot.

“Are you serious?” Cass grumbled then got up and walked out. The spymaster didn’t even flinch.

“That was your master plan??” You asked him once he made it to you and Rhys.

“I thought he would laugh at my pain! He seems like he would find it funny!” Cass defended his choice.

You and Rhys began to shake with laughter.

“Don't worry, I thought it was funny.” Rhys told him with a smug look on his face.

Cass gave him a look and walked away grumbling.

---

Azriel, Cassian, Rhys, and you were all training together and it was Rhys’ turn to get Az to laugh. Cass threw a weak punch at him which missed horribly.

“Ha! What was that! That was worse than Y/N on a good day!!” Rhys stated, poking fun at both you and Cass.

A scowl grew on Azriel’s face, his brows furrowed watching his friend. You and Cass both stood there, equally offended.

“Why would you be rude to Y/N? She has done nothing to you and she’s a great fighter.” Az spoke.

Rhys’ eyebrows shot up, realizing that was the wrong route to take to get him to break. A smirk grew on your face when you realized they both blew their chances and you were the most likely to win.

“Hey! Why did you stick up for her and not me?” Cass complained.

“Because that punch was awful. He should have compared you to a child with no training, not Y/N, who could easily beat you in a fight.” He told his brother.

A giggle left your lips and Az gave you a nod and a smile.

---

“Alright lets see what you got.” Rhys told you.

Azriel was sitting in the library, reading a book when you approached him.

“Hey Az! Whatcha reading?” You asked.

“A book on some rare magic.” He told you in a gentle tone, looking up at you with soft eyes.

“That sounds interesting! I’m actually reading a book on anti-gravity, and it’s impossible to put down!” You told him with emphasis on the pun.

He watched you for a moment, a smile growing on his face. Then you heard the most beautiful sound, Azriel’s laughter. You felt pride well up inside you.

“That’s a good one, very funny.” He told you and you gave him one of your big smiles.

After a little bit more conversation, you left and went over to where Rhys and Cass had been watching.

“A pun?! Really?” Cass said, disbelief evident in his voice.

Rhys stayed quiet while his brother continued to complain.

“That’s how it's done boys. Looks like I’ll be having a fun, free night out at Rita’s!” You spoke and went back into the library to sit with Az.

“How did a pun out of all things-” Cass started but Rhys elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up.

“Look at him. It wasn’t the pun... it’s her.” He spoke.

The two of them watched as you sat next to Azriel, asking if you could join him and read your book by him. He looked at you with nothing but pure adoration as he nodded his head yes.

“He’s clearly in love with her.” Rhys added.

The two of them watched as Az turned his head back to his book and you looked at him with just as much love and affection.

“That’s cheating! We need a new bet.” Cass whined.

Rhys just shook his head at him. He didn’t care that he lost the bet, he was just happy to see his brother finally love someone who loved him right back.

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[navybrat817]

Fall for Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he's good enough for you, but still wishes he could be your guy. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Longing, insecurities, "just friends" (for now), Steve is a good friend, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Friday Feels inspired by a nonnie.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a special kind of torture for Bucky to watch the person he loved flirt with someone else.

To be fair, he couldn't say for sure that you were flirting. Being friendly? Yes. You had a warm and welcoming personality, the kind he was drawn to the moment you two crossed paths months ago. One of the things he loved about you was how genuine you were. It was only natural that you pulled others in as well. Your compassion, charm, beauty, everything called to him.

You were the whole package, inside and out.

“What the hell am I doing here?” He muttered. He hadn't wanted to go to the bar, but Steve assured him it was a hole-in-the-wall sort of place. Not a lot of patrons on a night like this. Somewhere no one would bother them. He added at the last second that you were going.

Bucky grabbed his leather jacket to go as soon as those words left Steve’s mouth.

Instead of having a drink with you like he wanted or just talking, he simmered in silence in a booth while you stood at the bar. He narrowed his eyes as the guy you were talking to moved an inch closer. A bit too close for his liking.

Steve said his name was Will. They had met each other at some point in passing. Short blonde hair and a trimmed beard. Ex-military, but still built like he had a war to fight. Behind the guy’s blue eyes lurked pain, guilt, and regret that most would miss due to his general stoic demeanor. Bucky could relate all too well to horrors that haunted even the strongest of men.

But when Will looked at you, his eyes lit up. They held a sense of longing. Hope.

Once again, Bucky could relate all too well because that was how he looked at you.

“You’re doing that staring thing again,” Steve said, grabbing a beer from the bucket and setting it down in front of him. “Just talk to her.”

Bucky took a swig, but didn't take his eyes off you. He was afraid if he looked away that Will might convince you to leave with him. “Talk to her about what?”

His best friend sighed. “You know what.”

Steve knew how he felt about you. Talking about his feelings wasn't easy, but he had to tell his best friend. And it wasn't the first time Steve encouraged him to speak up. He said you had the right to know so the two of you could figure out how to move forward, whether as a couple or just friends, instead of dancing around it.

But how could Bucky admit how he felt when he didn't deserve someone like you?

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

“We're friends,” Bucky stated. The words tasted as bitter as the beer he sipped. No, not bitter. He couldn't feel that way just because he had a piece of you when he wanted all of you.

Was he selfish for that?

He nearly shattered the bottle in his hand when you giggled at whatever Will said. Something akin to jealousy settled in his chest and he had no right to feel that way. The two of you weren't together. You were single and didn't owe him a thing.

But he knows if you gave him a chance, he’d treat you well. Better than any other guy before him. He would do his best to make you happy. Maybe that wasn't enough.

“Will is a good guy, but he isn't you, Buck. You’re still one of the best guys I know,” Steve said.

“You don't have to kiss my ass, punk,” he muttered, immediately regretting it. He was only trying to help and God knows he had done more than enough for him over the years.

Steve shook his head. “And you don't have to feel sorry for yourself, jerk.”

“I’m not,” he whispered. Maybe he was. He was sorry for so many things.

As if you sensed his sadness, you looked over your shoulder and met his gaze. You smiled at him, the kind of smile that stole the very breath from his lungs and made his head spin. He wanted to believe it was a smile you reserved only for him. And the softness in your beautiful eyes, he imagined he could see his future in them.

Could you see the endless love he had for you in his?

His heart ached when you turned away and put your hand on Will’s arm. Of course, you were attracted to the guy. Why wouldn’t you be? The thought of you kissing him though, being intimate with him? He felt sick enough to finally look away.

Bucky glanced at his distorted reflection in the beer bottle. A long time ago, he would've called himself handsome. Not because he was full of himself, but because he knew himself then. He knew how to walk the line between confidence and cockiness. He was full of life and wonder once. Now the weight of his sins showed in how he carried himself.

Sins you never judged him for.

“Jamie? Are you okay?”

Steve nudged him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was so lost in his mind that he hadn’t heard you call out to him. He should’ve known since you were the only one who called him Jamie. When he looked up from his seat, he saw that you were no longer standing next to Will as he was still at the bar. And there was nothing but concern in your gaze as you set your drink down on the table.

“What? What happened?” He asked, not smooth at all.

Your eyes flickered to Steve and then back at him. “I asked if you’re okay. You don’t look too well.”

“Not feeling so great,” he said, which wasn’t a lie. “This place…”

“Oh,” you said, sliding into the booth beside him. He inhaled, your sweet scent soothing the pain in his heart and making it race all at once. “Well, why don’t we head out? There’s no reason to stay if you don’t want to stay.”

He gently smiled. You were always willing to go with the flow and change plans if things ever got too loud or too much for him. “I’m fine. Besides, you just got your drink and you haven’t had a chance to play pool with Sam or Natasha,” he argued. He didn’t want to spoil your night.

You put your hand on his arm, but it seemed different than when you touched Will’s arm. This was tender, soothing. “If being here is making you uncomfortable, then I don’t feel like sticking around. They’ll understand. Steve, please, back me up on this.”

“She’s right. You two should go,” Steve said, conveniently leaving himself and the others out of the equation.

Bucky spared Will a glance, who was now talking to the guys he went into the bar with. He swallowed hard before the next words left his mouth. “What about your new friend?”

“You are my friend, Jamie,” you said. He winced inwardly at the reminder. Friends. You were just friends. “Don’t worry about him. Let’s just go. How about a movie at your place? Something low-key so you feel better.”

“You sure?” He asked, wondering just how eager he looked to leave with you.

“I’m sure,” you smiled, making his heart warm again.

“Okay. You convinced me,” he said. Not that it would’ve taken much. Your smile could bend the will of just about anyone.

“You know, I hear healthy conversations are also good to help people feel better,” Steve chimed in, earning an elbow to the side from Bucky.

You raised an eyebrow and slid out of the booth. “Yeah. Sure. Jamie and I can have a healthy conversation and you all enjoy the rest of the night.” You offered Bucky a hand to help him out. He didn’t want to let go. “C’mon. We have a movie waiting for us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky teased, proud of himself when you giggled.

Steve gave him an optimistic smile and he couldn’t help but return it. He wasn’t sure if Will had given you his number or if you planned to see him, but maybe he’d take a chance and tell you he had fallen for you. Maybe, if he was lucky, you had fallen for him, too.

Just maybe.

And maybe, just maybe, this could be a thing? Did Will give you his number? Will Bucky say how he feels? What's going to happen? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[triptuckers]

feels like home - tyler owens x reader

Request: nope Pairing: tyler owens x reader Summary: after years, tyler is back in his home town. so much has changed, yet everything is the same Warnings: some swearing, mentions of a slight panic attack, there's a tornado (surprise!), some angst, thats it I think?? Word count: 2.5K A/N: I know nothing about tornadoes. I do know if glen powell asked me to go storm chasing with him I wouldn't hesitate. also running on literally 7% left of my battery but fuck it we roll!! enjoy!

It’s spring. Tyler’s favorite season. During this time of year, it’s peak tornado season. It’s when he’s in his element, doing what he loves.

He’s driving across the U.S. with his loyal crew, chasing the tornadoes wherever they go. And always, inevitably, he ends up in his hometown. It’s a small town, right in the middle of tornado alley. 

Over the years, the people had started building their homes with stronger foundations that could withstand tornadoes better. Every year, there was still a lot of damage, but less than before. Most families had lived there for generations, and didn’t have any plans to move. 

When Tyler pulls up to the local bar, his crew is energized and happy. They’d just finished chasing a rather intense tornado, and everyone is still high on adrenaline. They’re going out for drinks before going to bed, as tomorrow’s weather forecast showed good chances of another tornado.

Little did Tyler know, someone he knows very well has also picked tonight to go out for drinks.

You’re sitting at your usual table with a friend, blowing off some steam after a long day. You like the bar. Everyone knows each other, the bartenders know your drink order and always have it ready for you before you can even order it.

It’s one of the things you missed the most while you were away; the kindness of the small town. You know everyone here, and you always help each other out. Especially during tornado season.

When Tyler steps in the crowded bar, he instantly spots a few familiar faces. Old neighbors, childhood friends, friends of his parents. Then his eyes land on you. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you laugh at something your friend says. He had no idea you were back.

You look up when you see a group of people approaching you from afar. That’s when you see him. Exactly how you remember him, only a little older and with a belt buckle that says “tornado wrangler”. But you’d known him long before he called himself that.

You and Tyler had dated all throughout college, when you were both studying meteorology. Everyone knew you and while most couples broke up during college, you and Tyler stayed together.

But then Tyler started chasing tornadoes and you moved to a bigger city to enroll in an advanced PhD program. You agreed to part ways. It just felt too difficult to still be in a relationship when the two of you were always away.

But you never stopped loving him. You still watch all of his videos. And you don’t know it, but he reads all of your research articles.

He’s walking up to you now, and you forget you’re in a crowded bar with a friend. You don’t pay attention to the people he brought with him.

You smile warmly at him. ‘Hey, Ty.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that, lady.’ says one of Tyler’s friends. ‘He hates when people call him Ty.’ 

He looks at Tyler, expecting him to say something snarky or mean to you, but he’s got a soft smile on his face.

‘Hey y/n.’ he says. ‘Still around, huh?’

‘Still around. I moved back after graduation. Even though people in a small town can be a handful sometimes, with everyone knowing everything about everyone, it’s still home.’

‘Yeah, it is.’ says Tyler.

Suddenly a few women approach Tyler, stealing him away from your conversation. Apparently, word got out the tornado wrangler is in town, and everyone wants to talk to him.

Tyler waves at you before taking off.

You’re looking at him as he walks away, and your friend nudges you.

‘I thought you guys broke up?’

‘We did. He went to go storm chasing, and I wanted to study more. It just wasn’t practical to stay together.’

‘But you still love him.’

You turn to look at your friend. ‘I never said I stopped loving him.’

‘So… kind of like right person, wrong time?’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘What are you waiting for then? He’s here now, go talk to him!’

‘Nah, he’s too busy with his crew. It was nice to see him though.’

You spend the rest of your evening chatting with your friend. You try to focus on the conversation and to not let your mind wander off to Tyler. He really looked good. And his crew looked like they are fun to hang out with. 

When it’s getting late, you walk over to the bar to pay for your drinks. You say goodbye to your friend and head out to the parking lot. 

You see Tyler and his crew standing around his red pick-up truck. They’re laughing and sharing a drink. Tyler spots you and waves at you from where he’s sitting on the hood of his car. You wave back as you get in your own truck. 

‘Tell me, who is she?’ says Boone, pulling Tyler from his throughs as he watches you drive off.

Before Tyler can answer, Lilly starts listing off possible answers. ‘Secret fiancée? High school sweetheart? Admirer? Girl you went on three dates with and then left?’ she counts on her fingers.

‘No, none of that.’ says Tyler.

‘Definitely looks like a high school sweetheart. She’s your age, from around here. I bet you two grew up together.’

Tyler sighs. They’re not gonna let this go. And since they’re all going storm chasing tomorrow, they’re probably going to annoy him about it until he answers them.

‘We did grow up together. She was not my high school sweetheart, more like my college sweetheart. We broke up when I became a chaser.’

‘Let me guess, she always called you Ty?’ says Boone.

Tyler smiles at the memory. ‘She did.’

‘Ohhh my boy is whipped!’ says Boone, giving Tyler a playful shove. 

‘Oh, fuck off, Boone. That’s all in the past. She probably has someone waiting for her at home.’

But you didn’t.

You hadn’t really dated anyone after your breakup with Tyler.

Sure, you’d been on a few dates people had set you up with. But somehow, it never felt right. It never felt like it did while you were with Tyler. Loving Tyler was just so easy. Like you were always meant to find each other.

When he walked in that bar earlier tonight, he looked different. Older, sure. But also very handsome. You could tell he loved being a chaser. You wish you could’ve talked more with him, just the two of you.

The next morning when you wake up, it’s much earlier than you would have liked. You didn’t have any plans today and wanted to sleep in. As you lay in bed, you hear the rain slam against the window. You’re used to it, and it usually doesn’t wake you up. 

But as the rain starts to get heavier, you hear the wind is picking up as well. You knew there was a tornado warning for this morning, but it wasn’t for your town. The tornado was supposed to move away from you. 

That’s when you hear the siren. It’s almost part of your routine, it’s so familiar. You’re quick to get out bed, grabbing your phone. As you race downstairs to get to your shelter, you pull up the weather map. Which shows the tornado going straight for the main street of town. Fuck.

You hastily pull on your boots and open the backdoor to your garden, which is where your shelter is. You run toward it, the wind whipping in your face and the rain soaking your clothes in seconds. 

It takes a lot of strength to open the shelter doors with the wind threatening to slam them closed again. Finally, you make it inside after nearly falling down the stairs. You close the doors and bolt them. 

Now all that’s left for you to do is wait until the tornado is gone. You switch on the tiny light and pull out a blanket. There’s not much here except for some canned food. If Tyler saw this, you just know he’d immediately go to the store to get more supplies “just in case”. 

Thinking of him, you pull out your phone. You’re thinking about calling him, when you notice you have no service. The tornado must have already done a lot of damage. 

Meanwhile, Tyler is in the of the storm, near the tornado. They’re ready to get some great shots, but something changes. 

The tornado was supposed to head east and then die out, but it’s too slow. Tyler squints his eyes, looking at it. It’s almost as if it’s getting closer again. 

He realizes what’s happening at the same time Boone yells ‘It’s turning around!’

And he’s right. The tornado is heading west again. And Tyler knows what’s there. His hometown. Your hometown.

‘Oh, fuck.’ he says. He prays that you’re safe. He knows you’re smart, you’re probably inside the shelter by now. But he still worries.

They wait out the tornado before driving back to the town, prepared to help in any way they can. Debris is scattered throughout the streets. People walk around, helping each other or trying to salvage what’s left of their possessions in the rubble of the houses. 

Ever since they got back, Tyler has been trying to call you. You’re not picking up. He’s desperately telling himself you know the protocols. Hell, you’ve lived in tornado alley your entire life. You’re probably taking inventory of the damage on your property right now. 

Meanwhile, you’ve been listening to the storm outside. It’s all quiet now, you don’t hear any rain or wind, or sirens. You climb up the stairs and push open the doors. Except they don’t open. You check all the hinges, which are all still secure in place. Then why won’t the doors open?

You walk back down the stairs as you slowly start to panic. There’s probably debris blocking the doors. You have no cell service. Everyone is busy with their own houses. How long would it take for someone to find you?

You’re trying desperately to stay calm. People will find you eventually, right? But soon the tears are streaming down your face. You’d been in this shelter before, but it’s terrifying when you can’t open the door and all you have is a dim light, some canned food, a blanket and a phone without service.

Tyler’s crew is helping the people in town. But he gets increasingly more worried when you won’t pick up a single of his phone calls. 

Lilly notices his worried glances at his phone while she’s handing out food to people. ‘Tyler.’ 

He looks up at her. Lilly jerks her head to his truck. ‘Go see if she’s alright. You know where she lives, right?’

Tyler nods. 

‘Go. We’ve got it here.’ says Lilly.

He takes a quick look around. Lilly is right, his crew can handle it here. He just really needs to know if you’re okay. 

There’s too much debris on the road, so Tyler ditches his truck and walks the rest of the way. He could walk this route with his eyes closed. The longer he walks, the more destruction he sees and the more the uneasy feeling in his chest grows.

What if you were somewhere buried in the rubble of your house and he never got a chance to ask you if you wanted to try again? To see if you still had that spark you had when you were younger? He knew you wouldn’t let him go that easily. It had hurt you both when you broke up. And seeing you again, it reminded him of all the time you had spent together during college.

When he finally gets to your house, he sees it’s mostly still intact. The walls are still standing, but the roof needs fixing. Most of your windows are broken and a tree had fallen on your truck.

Tyler rushes to the front door, which is hanging off its hinges. He quickly enters your house.

‘y/n? y/n! Where are you?’

When you don’t respond, he tries calling you again. 

‘Come on, pick up, pick up.’ he mutters. Still no answer. Damn it.

Where would you go during a tornado? He’s forcing his mind to stop spinning out of control so he can think logically. Then he remembers you have a shelter in your backyard. How could he forget? He even helped you stock it in case something like this happened.

He runs through your messy living room, pieces of broken glass crunching underneath his boots. When he gets outside, he sees your shed – or what’s left of it – on top of the doors to your shelter.

‘y/n!’ he yells again, running toward the shelter.

You faintly hear a voice yelling your name. You briefly think you’re actually going insane at that point. Your panicked mind is making this up because it knows Tyler gives you a feeling of safety. Tyler isn’t here, he’s most likely outside still chasing the damn tornado. There’s no way he’d be here.

‘y/n are you in there? Give me a shout if you can hear me!’

But that’s unmistakably his voice. You hear sounds outside near the door.

‘Ty?’ you say quietly. 

‘Come on! Are you in there?’

‘Ty!’ you say, louder this time.

Outside, Tyler lets out a big sigh of relief as he continues to draw away the debris from the doors of your shelter.

Finally, he can see the handle of one of the doors and yanks it open. 

You squint your eyes at the sudden sunlight. Your eyes are quick to adjust, and they land on Tyler.

Standing there, breathing heavily, looking at you and holding out his hand for you to take.

‘Ty..’ you say softly. Fresh tears start to run down your cheeks as you take his hand and allow him to pull you out of the shelter. 

He pulls you against his chest, one hand coming around your back and the other on the back of your head, holding you against him.

You allow yourself to get lost in the familiar feeling. Tyler still wears the same cologne, and you still fit perfectly in his arms. God, you missed him.

‘I was so scared.’ you mumble. 

‘I know, sweetheart, I know.’ says Tyler.

He pulls back slightly so he can look you in the eye. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asks.

You shake your head. ‘I got to the shelter as soon as I heard the sirens, like you taught me.’

Tyler smiles at you. ‘You did good.’

‘I brought my phone but there was no service and then I couldn’t open the door and I-‘

‘y/n.’ says Tyler, cutting you off. ‘You’re alright. I got you out.’

‘Thank you.’ you say, burying your head in his chest once more.

The two of you stand there for a while. You both need this right now.

‘Ty?’ you say.

He hums in response. 

‘Please don’t leave again.’

He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

‘I’m never leaving you again, sweetheart.’

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love,Marit

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[uzurakis]

hello!

Can we have JJK guys reaction to his friend/buddy being in love with his girlfriend? (can sukuna and other any other characters you like).

THEIR FRIEND ALSO . . . LIKES YOU?!

featuring: ryomen sukuna. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi.

n. hey sweetheart, i’m not used to writing sukuna, but i tried to write him as him as much as i can! i hope it suits him. thankies for the req x—x

GOJO SATORU. when gojo found out that his friend also liked you, his reaction was, unsurprisingly, far from what most people would expect. instead of anger or jealousy, he simply shrugged it off, his trademark smile playing on his lips.

“did you hear what i just said?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t fazed. “your friend likes me.”

gojo laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “oh, i heard you,” he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused glint behind those glasses. “but why should i be worried? i know you’ll choose me at the end of the day.”

you blinked, taken aback by his confidence. “you’re not even a little bit concerned?”

“not at all,” gojo said, grinning. “i mean, can you blame them? you’re everything. but they don’t stand a chance against me, darling.”

“besides, it’s not like i don’t trust you. i know you love me.”

his words were playful, but because you know him well, he was serious. it was just the way he expressed it. “you’re right,” you admitted, tracing figures on his hands. “i do love you.”

“see? nothing to worry about. let him have their crush. it doesn’t change anything between us. if anything, it’s flattering. just proves i have excellent taste.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA. being in a relationship with sukuna meant navigating his unpredictable moods and overwhelming presence, but you had never seen him this angry before. the air seemed to crackle with his frustration as he paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with a fury that sent chills down your spine.

“babe,” you began, trying to calm him down. “what’s wrong?”

he stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression dark. “fucking jerk, it’s that so-called ‘friend’ of mine,” words spat out immediately. “i found out he likes you.”

your heart skipped a beat. you had noticed the way his friend had been acting lately, but you hadn’t thought much of it. now, seeing sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how serious this was.

“ryo,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i chose you from the start, right?”

he growled, his hands clenching into fists. “i don’t care about that. he should have known better. he should have known that you’re mine.”

sukuna lined up his hand on your chin, causing your eyes to meet. “if he comes near you, he’ll face my wrath,” he whispered, his tone still laced with menace. “no one threatens what’s mine.”

“especially my woman.”

ITADORI YUUJI. you told him about his friend’s feelings while you both were sitting inside your cozy room. itadori’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he leaned back in his chair, processing the information.

“wow,” he said softly, scratching the back of his head, those pink locks becoming messier. “i didn’t see that coming.”

bitting your lower lip, you’re worried about how he might take the news. “you’re not mad, aren’t you?”

but your boyfriend shook his head, full of understanding. “no, i’m not mad, baby. feelings are complicated, y’know? it’s not like he can control how he feels.”

you sighed in relief, appreciating his maturity. “okay... i was just worried about how you’d react.”

“baby, i trust you, and i trust our relationship. besides, i’m kind of curious now. like, since when did he start liking you? how did i miss that?”

feeling the tension ease out of the situation, you chuckled at him. his obliviousness always gets in the way. “don’t know the exact moment, but i guess it’s been a while.”

“hmm,” the guy leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand. “did he ever try to tell you or make a move?”

you shook your head. “no, i guess he didn’t. i think he knew about us and didn’t want to cause any trouble.” after your statement, a thoughtful expression was written on his face. “that must have been tough for him. i mean, having feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship.”

“it probably was,” you agreed. “but i’m glad you’re handling this so well.”

“hey, anyone would be lucky to have you. i just got there first.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. he took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. after fushiguro found out that his friend liked you, it hit him harder than he wanted to admit. the knowledge gnawed at him, and although he tried to brush it off, doubts began to creep in, making him question his own worth and your relationship. “i found out that one of my friends likes you.”

“really? who?” you blinked in surprise, not expecting that. he named the friend, and you frowned, thinking back on any interactions you might have had. “i had no idea…”

fushiguro nodded, but his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t either. it just… fuck, it bothers me.”

“i guess it makes me question things. like, am i good enough for you? do you have feelings for him too? those sorta things..”

your hands immediately caressed his by instinct, seeing him like this made your heart ache. “baby, you’re enough for me. i don’t have any feelings for them. i’m with you until the end.”

the man looked down for a long while, his grip on your hand tightening. “but what if i’m not enough? what if there’s something lacking in our relationship that makes you look elsewhere?”

“there’s nothing lacking, megumi. i’m happy with you. and i love you just the way you are.” you shook your head, cupping his face with your free hand.

after that he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “i don’t want to that jealous boyfriend but i can’t help it. the thought of losing you to someone else…”

“you’re not going to lose me,” you interrupted softly. “i’m here with you, and that’s not going to change. fushiguro then opened his eyes, searching for reassurance in yours, before closing them again. a little, relieved smile tugged on the edges of his lips. “i love you. i’m sorry for doubting us.”

@uzurakis

[niningtori]

make you cry | part one

part two: beomgyu's ending | part three: hyuka's ending

pairing: beomgyu x you, huening kai x you in alternate ending

summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.

genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 4.2k

notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;

being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.

you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 

that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.

“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your car. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.

“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.

“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.

“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.

“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.

“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.

“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.

“i guess not,” you sigh. 

“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 

“no,” you say simply.

“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.

“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.

“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.

“i’m fine, thanks.” 

“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.

“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.

“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 

“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 

“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.

“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 

“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.

“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 

“but still bad,” he argues. 

“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”

-

beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 

“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 

“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.

“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 

“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 

“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.

you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.

“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.

“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.

“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.

“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.

“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 

“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 

“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 

“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 

“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.

“but —”

“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 

“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.

“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.

“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 

“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.

“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 

“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.

“are you sleeping with him?” 

“what, no!”  you say firmly. 

“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 

“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 

“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.

as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 

one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 

“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 

his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.

“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.

“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.

“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.

he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 

“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.

“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 

“do you trust me?” he asks. 

no. not at all.

“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 

your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 

“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 

“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 

“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.

“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 

you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 

he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 

“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.

“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

-

fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 

“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 

“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 

“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 

“you know why,” you say. 

“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”

“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 

you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.

“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.

“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.

“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.

“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 

“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.

“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”

any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.

“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”

“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.

“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.

“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.

“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 

“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 

“kai, don’t —” 

“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”

“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 

but why? and when?

“since when did you…”

“since always,” you say quietly. 

“oh, fuck. look, i —”

“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.

“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”

“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 

“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 

“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.

“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.

“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 

“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.

he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 

“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 

“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.

notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

[itneverendshere]

played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (three) - finale

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made" pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader. warnings: more angst <3; part one here; part two

Staying away from Rafe was hard.

It was hard before you two tried to be friends and it’s even harder now that you gave him the no-contact ultimatum. Everywhere you went, it felt like he was there, even if he wasn’t. It was in the songs that played on the radio, in the way the sun set over the patio near your dorm, in the way his, now yours, shirts still smelled like him. 

You missed the late-night conversations, the way he’d laugh at your jokes, and how he could read you better than anyone else. But more than anything, you missed the way he made you feel—even if it wasn’t real at first. 

Every time your phone buzzed, you stupidly hoped it was him, even though you knew it wouldn’t be. You’d told him to stop, to leave you alone, and he had respected your boundaries even when it seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. And you’re proud of him for it—for once, he’s doing something right. But you’re mostly proud of yourself too, for sticking to your decision, for not letting him back in so easily.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.

You thought giving yourself space would help you move on, help you figure out if you could ever really trust him again. But instead, it just left this space where he used to be. You kept wondering how much of it was real for him—if any of it was. Maybe that’s why staying away felt impossible because a part of you wanted to believe he meant some of it, that his feelings weren’t just part of some game. 

You had to draw the line, to protect yourself from getting hurt all over again. And even though it hurt to keep him out, you knew it was the only way you’d figure out what you really wanted, without him clouding your judgment.

You tried to move on.

Slowly, cautiously, you started going on dates—nothing serious, just enough to remind yourself that there were other people out there, that Rafe wasn’t the only guy who could make you laugh or feel special. Every few weeks, you’d let yourself get dressed up, put on a smile, and meet someone new.

The first date was awkward, more like a practice run than anything else. You spent most of it comparing the guy to Rafe, noticing all the little things that didn’t measure up. It wasn’t fair to the guy, but you couldn’t help it. He wasn’t Rafe, and that’s all you could focus on. You ended the night with a polite hug and a promise to text, but you knew you wouldn’t.

The second date was better, but not by much. The guy was nice, made you laugh a few times, but there was no spark, no connection that made you want to see him again. You tried to be present, to give him a chance, but your mind kept drifting back to Rafe, to what he would say or how he would react to something. By the end of the night, you felt more exhausted than excited.

After that, you took a break. It was too soon, you told yourself. You weren’t ready to move on yet, and that was okay. 

Some days, you almost reached out to him. You’d pick up your phone, scroll through your messages, and your finger would hover over his name. It would be so easy to send a quick text, something casual, just to see how he was doing. But you never did. You knew that one message could ruinl everything you’d worked so hard to build—the distance, the boundaries, the fragile sense of self you were trying to protect.

Instead, you threw yourself into other things. Classes, the cheer squad, hobbies, anything to keep your mind occupied. You spent more time with friends, even though it was hard not to talk about him. You kept the conversations light, steering away from anything that would bring his name up. You didn’t want to be that person who couldn’t stop talking about their ex, who couldn’t let go, even if that’s exactly how you felt inside.

It helped, sometimes.

For brief moments, you’d find yourself genuinely laughing at a joke or losing yourself in a book or a project. But then something small would happen—a song on the radio, a glimpse of someone who looked like him, or the sound of his name in passing—and it would all come rushing back. It wasn’t fair. 

You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but each time it felt like a fresh wound. The memory of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he always knew just what to say—it was as if he left a ghost behind, haunting every corner of your life. And in those moments when you’d catch yourself smiling or feeling light, it was like a betrayal. How could you allow yourself to feel joy when he wasn’t there to share it?

It was like trying to run from a shadow that moved with you, always there, no matter how fast you tried to go.

Every time you thought about him, about how he had hurt you and how you were struggling to move on, it felt like stabbing at an old wound, hoping it would heal faster if you just made it worse. The reality was that you missed him in ways you weren’t ready to admit.

Running into him was inevitable. Despite your best efforts to avoid the places he might be, your college was too small, too intertwined with memories of him.

The first time you saw him after the ultimatum was at a party you had reluctantly agreed to attend. You spotted him across the room, laughing with his friends, looking just as carefree as ever. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and for a moment, you felt stuck to the ground. But then he looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and the smile slipped from his face.

It was a small moment, one that no one else seemed to notice, but it felt like the all the air in your lungs had been sucked out. You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around you, but it was impossible to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you.

The second time was worse.

You were at the grocery store, just trying to get through your day when you turned a corner and nearly collided with him. The shock of seeing him so close, so unexpectedly, made you want to disappear on the spot.

You both mumbled awkward apologies, neither of you really saying anything of substance, just trying to avoid the awkwardness. But then he asked how you were.

“I’m fine,” you replied, too quickly, too sharply. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

He nodded, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. You both stood there, trapped in a painful silence, before you finally made an excuse and walked away, leaving him standing there in the aisle.

After that, the encounters became more frequent. You saw him at the beach, in coffee shops, passing by on the street. Each time, it was the same—an awkward exchange, a few forced pleasantries, and then a quick retreat. It was like the universe was conspiring against you, refusing to give you the space you so desperately needed.

And each time, it hurt just a little bit more. Seeing him in these mundane, everyday moments, like nothing had changed, made it harder to keep up the distance you’d built. It reminded you of all the times when being around him had felt natural, easy, like he was just supposed to be there.

But the worst part was the way he looked at you. Jessica had told you before. He’d never looked at any girl like that. And you stupidly held onto that tiny hope even if you shouldn’t. 

You’d been trying to keep it together all night, but the sight of Jessica and Tyler laughing together, so effortlessly in love, was making you bleed inside. The drinks kept coming, one after another, until the room started to blur around you. You didn’t even notice how much you were drinking—only that it was easier to keep swallowing than to think about Rafe. 

But the alcohol wasn’t enough to quiet your thoughts.

Instead, it seemed to amplify them, making everything feel sharper, more painful. Jessica and Tyler’s whispered words of affection, the way his hand rested on her thigh, the way she looked at him with pure adoration—You couldn’t stop thinking about how that should have been you and Rafe.  

By the time you realized you were too far gone, it was late. You stumbled as you stood up, the room spinning wildly around you. Someone—Jessica, maybe—asked if you were okay, but their voice was muffled, distant. You tried to nod, to say something reassuring, but your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing back into your chair.

"Whoa, easy there," Jessica’s voice was sharper now, filled with concern. She crouched down in front of you, her hands steadying you. “You’re not okay. We need to get you out of here.”

You tried to shake your head, to insist that you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The room was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your vision was blurry, your limbs heavy, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were too drunk to take care of yourself. You couldn’t even stand up, let alone make it home.

Panic started to set in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to lose control like this. You weren’t supposed to need help.

“Jess… I’m fine…” The words slurred out of your mouth, but even you didn’t believe them.

“No, you’re not.” Jessica’s voice was firm now, almost authoritative. She glanced around, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The other girls were watching, their laughter fading into worried murmurs, “Baby, can you go and get her some water and sugar, please?”

She gently guided you to lean back, her hand on your shoulder to steady you. You tried to focus, tried to push through the fog in your mind, but everything was slipping away, your thoughts swirling together in a jumbled mess.

“Hey, stay with me, okay?” Her voice was softer now, almost pleading. She wasn’t just a concerned friend at this moment; she was scared. You’d never seen her like this before. 

“I—” You started, but the words tangled in your throat. You wanted to tell her that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean to ruin the night, that you just wanted to stop thinking about him for a couple of hours, but all that came out was a garbled sound that barely resembled a word.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her thumb brushing lightly against your arm. “We’ll get you out of here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Tyler returned with the water and sugar, and Jessica took the glass, trying to get you to drink. The water felt cool against your lips, but swallowing was harder than it should’ve been. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“Come on, just a little more,” Jessica urged. You managed a few more sips before the glass slipped from your grasp, water sloshing onto your lap.

“Jess, I—” You tried again, but before you could finish, you heard another voice, one that sent a jolt through your foggy mind.

He was there, right in front of you, and you knew it was him without needing to open your eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter. He crouched down, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“She had too much to drink,” Jessica explained quickly, her tone defensive, as if she expected him to start blaming her. “We were just about to get her out of here.”

You tried to smile, to play it off like it was no big deal, but all that came out was a shaky breath. “Too much… too much, Rafe…”

“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. He turned to Jessica, his voice all business now. 

You didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Was your brain torturing you? Making you believe he was there?

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt down beside you, his hands grabbing your trembling ones. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he was afraid you might break into pieces if he spoke too loudly. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?”

You wanted to say no, to tell him that you didn’t need him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, too tired and too dizzy to fight it.

He exchanged a look with Jessica and she sighed, her worry morphing into something closer to relief. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”

Your legs were useless, and you sagged heavily against his chest. He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, cradling you against him. His scent surrounded you, familiar and comforting, and despite everything, you found yourself leaning into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. Your eyes fluttered shut as he carried you out, the sounds of the party fading away behind you.

The ride to your dorm was a blur. 

You were vaguely aware of Rafe’s arm around you, of Jessica sitting on your other side, rubbing your back in small circles. The motion of the car made your stomach churn, and you had to close your eyes to keep from getting sick. Uber or not, you weren’t about to ruin someone else’s car. 

When you finally arrived, he practically carried you inside while Jess fumbled with your keys before pushing the door open.

He led you to your bed, easing you down onto the mattress.

“I’ll stay with her,” he muttered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jessica hesitated, looking between the two of you, before nodding slowly.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said to Rafe, squeezing his arm before she left.

You were barely aware of her leaving, still too drunk to process much of anything. He knelt down beside your bed, brushing a stray hair from your face. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby.

You wanted to say something, to tell him that you didn’t need him, that you were fine on your own.

You felt your bottom lip tremble. 

He noticed the change immediately, his blue eyes softening as he continued to gently brush the hair from your face. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jaw. “Just breathe.”

But that only made it worse. You could feel the tears welling up as you realized just how much you’d missed this—missed him. The safety of his presence, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

Your stomach churned, the nausea that had been building since you first sat in the car finally reaching a breaking point.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, your voice weak and shaky, “I think I’m gonna—”

He reacted instantly, his arms tightening around you as he quickly looked the room. “Okay, okay, just breathe,” he said, “You’re gonn be fine.”

But breathing was the last thing on your mind as the room started spinning faster. You tried to push away from him, your hand gripping his shirt as you fought to keep it down.

“Rafe, I need to throw up,” you managed to gasp, panic rising in your chest.

He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up from the bed and hurrying toward the bathroom. You barely registered the fact he was touching you again after so long, your mind solely focused on the nausea.

He got you to the bathroom just in time, guiding you to the toilet as you collapsed in front of it. He held your hair back with one hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back as you retched, the sound of it echoing harshly in the small space.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he murmured, grounding you as you emptied your stomach. You could feel the heat of his hand on your back, the gentle way he kept your hair out of the way.

When it was over, you slumped against the cool porcelain, too exhausted to care about anything other than the relief of having the nausea finally subside. Rafe handed you a damp washcloth, and you pressed it against your face, the coolness soothing against your overheated skin.

“Better?” he asked softly, crouching down beside you. 

You nodded weakly, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything, just stayed close, while you avoided his gaze entirely. The room was quiet now, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you tried to regain some control.

“I’m sorry.”

You felt embarrassed, and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected, and you hated every second of it.

“Stop apologizing,” Rafe said gently, his hand still resting on your back. 

“Can you… can you stay over?” 

You didn’t want to be alone, not tonight, not with the way your heart was aching.

Rafe’s eyes softened, the way they did only for you, and for a moment, you thought he might agree, that he might stay and help you forget, even just for a little while. 

But then he shook his head, his expression pained.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice strained, like it hurt him to say it. “You know I can’t, sweets.”

You tried to hold it together, but it was no use. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying—quiet, heartbreaking sobs that you couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks, but it only made you cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t even respond, the words tangled up in your throat. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t stay; it was everything—the confusion, the heartbreak, the way you felt like you were losing him all over again, even though he was right there in front of you.

“Please don’t cry,” Rafe pleaded, his voice breaking. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You buried your face in his chest, the sobs shaking your entire body. The warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of him—it was too much, too close to everything you’d been trying to avoid. But you couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

“I just… I just miss you,” you choked out, the words spilling from you in a broken whisper. “I miss you so much, Rafe.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I miss you too.”

You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from disappearing. The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the ache in your chest, the one that had been there ever since you’d forced yourself to let him go.

“I wish things were different,” his usually bright eyes were dimmed, his brows drew together as if he was in pain. He looked at you like he was memorizing every detail, like he was afraid this might be the last time, “I keep hurting you.”

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his touch gentle as his fingers cradled your face. His thumbs brushed away the tears again, but they kept coming, fresh and spilling over. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a ragged breath.

“Please don’t hate me more for this,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely holding back. His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance, for something to cling to in this moment that felt like it was tearing you both apart.

“I could never hate you,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat as the tears continued to fall. It hurt to say it, to admit it out loud.

He left that night.

You had almost convinced yourself that it was better this way, that moving on, that he did you a favor that night by leaving, that keeping him out of your life was the only solution. 

Staying away from you was killing him. 

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

Rafe spent his days trying to distract himself, throwing himself into his studies for the first time in his life, into parties, into anything that would take his mind off you. 

But nothing worked. Every time he saw something that reminded him of you, it was like a punch to the gut—a song you liked, a place you used to go together, even the smell of the ocean would bring memories crashing back. He missed you so much it hurt.

And when he saw you, it was even worse. The first time he ran into you after the break, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He was at a party, trying to forget, trying to lose himself in the noise and the crowd, when he saw you across the room. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then your eyes met his, and his heart almost stopped.

You were as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so, but there was something different about you—something guarded, distant. But before he could even think about crossing the room to talk to you, you looked away, your expression closing off, leaving him standing there like an idiot, staring after you. 

He’d told you he’d wait for you and he intended on keeping that promise. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have you back, to hold you, to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never been this wrecked over a girl, but you weren’t just any girl. 

Rafe had never been good at groveling, at admitting he was wrong, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d get on his knees and beg if that’s what it took. He didn’t care about his pride anymore, not when it meant losing you. He was willing to do whatever it took to make things right, to prove to you that he was serious, that he loved you more than he ever thought possible.

But every time he saw you, he felt that hope slipping further away. The look in your eyes, the way you avoided him, it all felt like a final nail in the coffin. And yet, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop himself from yearning for you, from wanting you back in his life. He was going out of his mind, torn between respecting your wishes and fighting for you with everything he had.

Rafe knew he had to do something different, something that would show you just how much he had changed. The problem was, he didn't know what that was. He needed to find a way to prove to you that he was serious, that he was willing to put in the work to make things right.

So he started small.

He stopped going to parties, and stopped trying to drown out his feelings in distractions. Instead, he focused on becoming the person he thought you deserved—the person he knew he could be if he just tried. He started paying more attention in class, showing up on time, and actually studying. He even started volunteering, something he’d never done before, just to keep his mind occupied with something productive, something that wasn’t about him for once.

But the real change came when he began working on himself. He started seeing a therapist, something he’d always scoffed at before. He had a lot of baggage, a lot of unresolved issues that had driven him to hurt you in the first place, and he knew he needed to work through them if he ever wanted to be good enough for you.

It wasn’t easy. Therapy forced him to confront things he’d buried deep, things he’d avoided dealing with for years. Family trauma and all. But he stuck with it, because he knew it was the only way to get better, to be the kind of man you could trust again.

Slowly, he started to see changes in himself. He was more patient, more understanding, and more aware of how his actions affected others. He didn’t expect you to notice any of it—he was doing it for himself as much as for you—but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d see that he was trying.

And then he had to pick you up that night.

He had never seen you drunk before, you’d always preferred your fruity punch over any other alcoholic drink. He’d always known you as strong, independent, someone who could hold your own. Seeing you like that—broken, hurting—made something in him snap. Was this his fault? Had he done this to you? 

He knew he couldn’t stay that night. As much as it killed him to leave, he understood that this was part of growing too—the part where he learned to respect your boundaries, to give you space even when all he wanted was to hold you and never let go. You’d hate yourself the next day. He was doing you both a favor. 

The next morning, Rafe didn’t text or call. He wanted to give you time, to process everything without the pressure of him hovering. Instead, he threw himself back into his routine, keeping himself busy but always with you at the back of his mind. He wondered if you remembered anything from the night before—how close he’d come to breaking down when you asked him to stay, how it had taken every ounce of self-control to walk away from you again.

Days passed, and he didn’t hear from you. It felt like a new kind of torture, but he stayed strong, if this was part of the process then so be it, he needed to be patient. 

He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to make you feel like you owed him anything. But he couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about him too.

So when the call came that you were in the hospital, his heart nearly fell through his ass. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—he just went.

The thought of you being hurt, of something happening to you, was enough to make him speed over the legal limit. He needed to see you, to make sure you were okay, even if it was the last thing he did.

When he got there, his heart clenched tightly in his chest as he pushed through the doors of the hospital. He hated hospitals, hated everything about them—the smell, the sterile white walls. But none of that mattered now. All he could think about was you.

The nurse at the front desk directed him to your room, and he practically sprinted down the hallway, his mind racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios. He’d been too fucking anxious to ask if you were okay, as soon as your name and the word hospital registered, he was rushing over. When he finally reached your door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you told him to leave?

But then he heard your pretty voice, soft and familiar. He pushed open the door and there you were, sitting up in the hospital bed with a sprained ankle, looking more frustrated than hurt. He breathed out in relief, so intensely it made his knees weak.

“Rafe?” you blurted out, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw him standing there. “What are you doing here?”

He took a step closer, “They called me. I’m still your emergency contact.”

“Oh,” you muttered, looking down at your hands. “I didn’t realize.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you were trying to hold it together. “It’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious. Did a little too much during practice."

Rafe nodded, but he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The sight of you in that hospital bed, even for something as minor as a sprained ankle killed him. 

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really.”

But he couldn’t leave. Not now, not when you were right in front of him, looking so small and vulnerable. He shook his head, his voice coming out rougher than before, “I’m not leaving.”

You blinked up at him, “But you don’t have to—”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, his voice firm. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m staying.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t kick him out.  “Okay.”

He pulled up a chair beside your bed, settling in like he had no intention of going anywhere. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint beeping of the machines and the murmur of voices from the hallway outside. For a moment, neither of you said anything.  It was strange, being this close yet so far away from you. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way yours had softened, the way the lines of worry on your face were starting to smooth out. You looked tired like you’d been lacking sleep. He wished he could help, even if just for a little while.

“You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I used to think I was pretty good at taking care of myself. But then I met you, and I realized I’d never really let anyone take care of me before. Not like you did.”

“Rafe—”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, “I’m still here. I’ll always be here, even if all I can do is sit in a hospital room with you and make sure you’re okay.”

You looked down at your hands, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart squeezing painfully at the admission. “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you for that night.”

He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning a little closer, careful not to overwhelm you but needing to be nearer all the same.

“I didn’t do anything special,” he murmured, though his mind replayed the events of that night. The helplessness he’d felt seeing you in that state, knowing there was little he could do to make it better. He hadn’t been sure then if you’d even wanted him there, but he’d helped you anyway. He couldn’t leave you, not when you needed someone—when you needed him.

“You were there,” a tear slipped down your cheek, and he instinctively reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away. The touch was soft, almost reverent, and it made your breath get stuck in your throat.  “That’s more than enough.”

You leaned into his touch for a moment, savoring the comfort it brought, even though it hurt to let yourself feel it, “Just glad you’re safe.”

“Why did you come?”

“Because I love you,” he admitted, tired of carrying the truth inside him, “I know I screwed up—God, I know that. But I’ve spent every day since trying to be better, trying to be the kind of man you deserve. And I know I have a long way to go, but I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not unless you ask me to.”

“You love me?”

Your voice sounded so meek, so unsure it made him want to punch himself in the face. This was entirely his doing. 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked nervous, and vulnerable, “Yeah,” he said, “I do. I’m in love with you, I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I was too scared to. Didn’t want to make you think I was saying it to save my ass, y’know?”

You’d always wondered what it would be like to hear those words from him, to have him admit that he cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“I didn’t want to push you,” he continued, fingers intertwined, “But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t let you think that I didn’t care, that I didn’t want this, want you.”

You blinked, trying to process everything he was saying. This was the Rafe you’d always hoped for—the one who was honest and unafraid to show his emotions. But it was also the Rafe who had hurt you, who had made mistakes that left scars you weren’t sure had fully healed.

“Rafe, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

“You don’t have to say it, sweets. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I’m scared of getting hurt again, of going back to that place where everything fell apart.”

He had changed—you could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way he spoke to you. He wasn’t the same Rafe who had hurt you.

"I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he continued, though there was a hint of desperation in it. "I know I need to earn that. But please, give me a chance to prove it. I don’t want to lose you again."

"You can’t wait for me forever.”

“I’d wait for you a lifetime. I told you,” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing when he spoke, as if he was trying not to cry, “If you ever want me, I’m yours.”

His hands, usually so restless, were still now, resting on his knees as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. You saw the man he was trying to be—the man he wanted to be for you. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was trying. And that had to count for something.

“Even if I made you wait until we’re eighty and grey?”

Rafe let out a breathless laugh, the sound strained but genuine, “Even then,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You’re it for me.”

It scared you how much you wanted to believe him, how much you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him that he was it for you too. He reached out, his hand hovering near yours, waiting for you to close the distance. You hesitated for only a moment before your fingers intertwined with his.  It felt right, like coming home after being lost for so long.

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were thinking, feeling. He looked like he was holding his breath.

“I love you too.”

It was still scary, still uncertain, but you realized that nothing worth having ever came easy. And Rafe, with all his flaws and all his efforts to be better, was worth it.

He exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief, “I don’t deserve you,” he said whispered, lips pressed against your fingers, “But I’m going to spend every day trying to. I swear, I’ll never stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he could physically hold you together through sheer will alone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he started, his voice panicked, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet his. “I just… it’s been a long time since I let myself feel this way.”

He nodded, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand in slow, soothing circles. “You don’t have to hold back with me. Not anymore. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, running down your cheeks. Rafe was there instantly, his other hand reaching up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made your heart hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked, “For everything I put you through.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you, giving you the strength to keep going. “I was so miserable Rafe,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Scared that if I let you back in, I’d get hurt again. Scared that I’d lose you all over again.”

“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m here, and I’m not going to let you down.”

“I want to try.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, and he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if he couldn’t  believe what he was hearing. “You do?”

You nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. “I do. But we need to take it slow, okay? I need time.”

“Of course,” he said quickly, his eyes bright with hope. “We’ll go as slow as you need. I don’t fucking care sweets, I’m not leaving.”

You weren’t just giving him another chance—you were giving yourself one too. A chance to heal, to forgive, and to find your way back to each other.

Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise between you. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “It’s you and me, okay?”

“You and me.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips, one that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It was a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time, and seeing it made you want to bawl all over again. His hand cradled your cheek, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your jaw as his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission, for forgiveness, for a chance to be close to you again. And when his lips finally brushed against yours, whatever pain you were feeling on your ankle disappeared. 

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away, afraid to push too far too soon. But the moment your lips pressed back against his, that tentative touch deepened. Rafe’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a second. You could feel the desperation in the way his lips moved against yours, the way his breath hitched when you parted your lips to let him in.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in him, the door to your room swung open with a creak. You both froze, lips still touching, as someone cleared their throat.

You pulled away from each other reluctantly, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you saw the same blush of color on his face, the same love-sick expression that you were sure mirrored your own.

The doctor stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, I see you’re feeling better.”

Rafe cleared his throat, stepping back slightly, his hand still lingering on your arm as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. “Uh, yeah, she’s doing great,” he mumbled.

“You must be the boyfriend.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over, “Yeah. He is.”

[ham1lton]

HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)

pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.

warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.

summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.

author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3

— a part of the maneater series ꕤ

liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?

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user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭

user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.

user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.

-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.

user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.

user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!

user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.

user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.

-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?

user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?

user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.

-> user4: you’re a victim 😕

user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.

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liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.

yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?

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bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!

-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!

user1: is she not even gonna address it?!

-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.

user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.

landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?

-> georgerussell63: or me?!

-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨

-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕

-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.

user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.

user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ���ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.

*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *

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liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.

yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎

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user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.

-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?

-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.

user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.

-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.

user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.

-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!

user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.

user67: she’s still ugly.

-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.

user12: when he leaves her >>>>

-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12

-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&

user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.

-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.

user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.

-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.

user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭

liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.

maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3

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bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.

-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.

oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!

bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!

lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝

-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12

-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭

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