#his eyebrows were paid separately

[aenslem]

LEONARD NIMOY in Mission: Impossible (1966–1973) 4.01 ∙ The Code

[the-boy-meets-evil]

on second thought | jww

(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)

pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.

authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone

Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 

That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.

“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 

“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 

“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.

“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 

“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 

“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 

“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 

This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 

“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.

“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 

Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 

The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 

“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.

“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 

“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 

“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 

“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 

“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 

“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.

“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 

There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 

Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 

And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 

“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 

“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.

“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 

A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 

So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 

Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 

“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 

“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 

Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.

“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.

“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.

You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 

“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 

It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 

You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 

It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 

He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 

Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.

Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 

With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.

“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 

“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 

He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.

He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 

“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 

“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.

You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 

“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 

“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 

You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 

“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 

“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 

Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 

“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.

“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 

With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 

You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 

“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 

“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 

When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 

Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 

When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.

“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him

“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 

His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 

You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.

“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.

“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.

“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 

You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 

“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.

You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 

“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.

“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 

“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.

“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.

“Next time?” you wonder.

“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 

It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 

The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 

That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 

He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.

Until it doesn’t.

One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 

He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 

“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 

You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 

“Of course not,” he says. 

Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 

He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 

The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 

“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 

“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 

“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.

“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 

“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 

Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 

None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.

“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 

“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 

“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.

“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 

“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.

“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.

“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.

“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.

It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 

There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 

“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 

He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 

“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 

“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.

“I just thought…” you start.

“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 

The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.

Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 

It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 

“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 

“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 

“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 

That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.

“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.

“Why should I?” you challenge. 

“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.

“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 

“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”

“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.

“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”

“To avoid me?” you supply. 

“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 

“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 

“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.

“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks. 

“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 

You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 

When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 

“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.

“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 

“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 

“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.

That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 

“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 

You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 

“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 

“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 

“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 

“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.

“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 

Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 

Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 

i hope you enjoyed it! 💕

[entitled-fangirl]

I hate you.

Aemond Targaryen x Stark!reader

Summary: the reader and the prince hate each other so much, they might just love each other.

Warnings: makeout session, choking, talks of death, brief talk of sex, Aemond is his own warning

Masterlist

...............................................................

When Rheanyra was still believed to be the heir to the throne, Cregan Stark sent his only sister to become the betrothed to Prince Aemond. 

But both the Prince and the Flower of the North were too headstrong for their own good. 

Like the North, she was gruff and determined. She held the characteristics of her brother in the way she carried herself. 

Now, Aemond was a cold man.

But luckily she was used to the cold. 

They made things work, as most unhappy couples do. Perform marital acts, be strong leaders for the nation. 

Until the day King Viserys died and Aegon took the throne. 

For the small crack that divided the two, it had quickly become a ravine. 

She stood for the North. The oath her father made to Rheanyra. Wherever her people went, so did she. 

And Aemond would not move from his brother's side. 

It made things difficult. 

But nothing had separated them more than this. 

…

"What have you done?" She asked, standing from the chair with her book long abandoned. 

Aemond stood in the doorway of their chambers. He cocked his head to the side with a furrowed brow and a calm voice, "Whatever do you mean?"

Her nostrils flared, "You left to speak to the Baratheons. You return. It is a long journey. Vhagar has not been fed in days." She took a step forward, "Why not?"

"I do not believe it is of your concern what my dragon does. Since when have you cared so deeply for her?" He calmly asked to change the subject.

She let out a breath, "You've done something."

"Do calm yourself, my lady."

"Do not tell me what I must do, my Prince." She muttered with a clenched jaw. 

He studied her and let out a soft hum, "Wolves don't hunt alone, and yet here you are."

Her brow furrowed, "Because you've kept me in the dark."

"You may be in this castle, but your loyalty is far from the greens."

"Your loyalty remains to your brother," she reminded him. "As does mine to my own."

His eyebrows raise and he lets out another hum, "I suppose you're not wrong."

"So, tell me what you did?"

He let out a sigh. His pushed his shoulders back and his stature become more like a soldier at the reminder of his actions. "Vhagar has been fed."

She felt her eyes water, "Who?"

His lips pulled into a smile, "It is no matter." His hands came up to his eyepatch, pulling it off and holding it in his hand, "The debt has been paid back in full."

She stared at the patch in his hand, but her mind was running with questions that she knew he would not answer. 

Finally, her voice was a quiet whisper, "You're a monster."

His head cocked at her and an amused grin pulled at his lips, "I am only a man."

"What. Have. You. Done?" She asked again. 

He doesn't respond verbally. His eye narrows on her with his grin.

She huffs and pushes past him to leave. 

He chuckles lowly, "Did I say we were done speaking?"

She pauses mid-step with her back to him, "I did not think you had to. You do not continue to talk when you're done speaking, do you?" She turned to look at him slowly, "By your lack of answers to my questions, I do believe you haven't truly even begun to speak to me. So, yes. I do believe we're done speaking, my prince."

"And where do you intent to flee to?" He asked amused. 

"Somewhere I may find the answers I am lacking."

He took slow steps to her, "What better place than at the source?" He gestured to himself.

She let out a soft chuckle, "I do believe that perhaps I was wrong earlier."

He began to near her, a mere foot distancing them. "How so?"

Her lips pulled into a smile, "You're not a monster, are you?" She closed the distance between them and her voice softened, "You're just a boy."

His eye flashed with anger and his hand grabbed her throat. He merely held her there, not squeezing but a reminder of the power he held over her. 

She let out an initial gasp, but her smile only grew, "Have I angered the dragon?"

"And here I thought the wolves of the north were cold. No," he mused, "You're quite full of fire."

She held her head higher in pride, giving him more access to her neck.

"And you will be full of fire when this dragon is done with you," He nearly growled. 

She huffed, "If you weren't my prince husband-"

"-Then what?" He asked amused. 

"I'd blacken your fucking eye." She threatened. 

Aemond's eye flickered from her eyes to her lips before crashing his lips onto hers. 

She grunted from surprise, but soon responded. One hand moved to the hand on her throat, the other to the back of Aemond's neck. 

He smirked in the kiss, and wrapped his free hand around her, pulling her flush against his chest. 

She pulled at the hair at the back of his neck, and he let out a groan. 

She barely pulled away with a whispered pant against his lips, "I hate you."

"I know you do, darling," he whispered back. 

His hands quickly began to tug at the laces of her dress. 

Her hands pulled at his tunic. 

And the two hated each other all night.

..............................................................

[honeylations]

KIM MINJEONG x FEM!READER

Prompt: your usually shy girlfriend wants to ask you to help her but your bad mood scares her off

Warnings/Notes: g!p Minjeong, subby Minjeong, riding, squirting, creampie, handjobs, blow jobs

“H-Hah I’m s-so close…N-Need to cum..” Minjeong growled, stroking her cock faster and shutting her eyes tight when she could feel herself going to the edge.

She wished you were there stroking her instead. Kissing her until she made a mess on your hand.

She needed you.

“Oh my god just fucking kill me, will you!?”

“Wah!” Poor Minjeong jumped from the couch at your sudden dramatic entrance and how the slamming of the door pretty much shook the entire apartment.

You were too pent up with your rant that you didn’t see your girlfriend rushing to pull up her boxers and pants with a red face.

“What’s with the manager being up my ass all the fucking time?! I’m only one person and it’s not my fault other people in my damn group don’t even make up one brain cell! NOT EVEN ONE!”

Minjeong stood in between the gap that separated the living room and kitchen, watching you slam your purse on the counter and pacing back and forth.

Profanity after profanity left your lips and Minjeong could see the steam coming from your ears. Your girlfriend fiddled with the sleeves of her hoodie and cleared her throat to try and get your attention.

“H-Hi babe”

“Ugh and I don’t even get paid extra for doing most of that shitty work! I might as well quit on the spot and see him cry!”

Minjeong sealed her lips and couldn’t ignore the pain in her dick, begging to be touched.

You finished your rant with a click of your tongue and saw your girlfriend standing there in fear. “Shit, I’m sorry Jeongie. I didn’t mean to scream around like that, I’m just really over my shift today”

“It’s okay, babe. Wanna sit down and talk about it?”

Aw your baby was such a sweetheart.

“No no, we can do that later. I think a nap will fix it all”

Minjeong smiled and took your hand to lead you to your shared bedroom. Being in a relationship for so long, you two always slept half naked. You being in your panties and Jeongie in her boxers.

Something about the skin to skin contact was just so comforting.

Only issue is, Minjeong’s boner was still rock hard and you managed to miss it even when you finally got under the covers with her.

But your girlfriend wouldn’t let you cuddle.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You questioned, making her even more nervous.

“Uh it’s nothing, really..”

“Puppy, whatever it is, spill it right now” You practically ordered, eyebrow twitching.

Minjeong huffed. “ihaveabonerandineedyoutohelpmecum”

“Huh?”

Minjeong spun on her other side away from you and hugged the blanket over her head. “Haha nothing never mind! time to sleep goodnight I love you!”

Ripping the covers off your girlfriend, you made her lie on her back while you sat on her stomach. “Stop shying away pup. Tell me what you want”

“I’m gonna go get a drink of water—WAH!” Minjeong yelped at her wrists being pinned on each side of her head.

“Say it”

Your girlfriend’s pout almost made you fold but you clenched your jaw to not give in so easily.

“M-My dick is…uh very hard..”

“Uh huh…”

“A-And I n-need you to help me..cum”

You kissed her lips and smiled. “Now was that so hard?”

“Well yes! You stormed into the apartment like a mad woman!”

Now it was your turn to pout and huff. “I said I was sorry!”

Your girlfriend looked away. “You seemed really tired too so I didn’t want to bother—“

Kiss

Minjeong went redder at your sudden move. “H-Hey!”

“Don’t you ever believe you’d bother me, okay pup?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Good. Now let me suck your dick”

Minjeong couldn’t even answer since you already yanked her pants and boxers off to start playing with her dick. She watched you with parted lips, panting at the sight of your small hands working itself up and down.

“You alright there, puppy?” You smiled into her neck as her head hung back in pleasure.

“Better than alright”

You kissed her slowly and got your tongue exploring Minjeong’s mouth which she moaned into. She would pause for a moment to watch you jerk her off faster, losing the strength to keep her eyes open.

“C-Can you please suck me off, baby? Pretty please” she whimpered while looking so deep into your eyes, you were able to see Minjeong well up tears.

“Of course, my love”

You lowered your head down and quickly sucked at your girlfriend’s leaking tip before taking her entirely inside. Her hands found comfort on your head that began to move, being one of the lucky people to not have a gag reflex.

You were able to deepthroat her so easily without a problem and Minjeong was in heaven every single time.

“Fuck. Oh fuck, Y/n-ie”

The vibration from your hum triggered your girlfriend’s hips to thrust, shocking her immediately. “N-No I’m sorry! A-Are you okay?”

Keeping her cock deep inside your throat, you gently caressed her hands on your head and she took it as the green light to do as she pleases.

Minjeong relaxes more and resumed her hip movement, tucking your hair behind your ears as she hissed out profanities.

“So so fucking good, Y/n-ie. I want to cum in your mouth. Can I pretty please?”

Another approved hum from you, and your girlfriend reacted with a punched out groan at the same time she fills your mouth with cum.

“Hah…so good…”

You sat up with pride after swallowing your personal favourite liquid snack, cleaning your mouth with a simple swipe from the back of your hand. Minjeong was still catching her breath when you hovered above her lap and held her still hard length at your soaked folds.

Minjeong doesn’t even remember seeing you remove your clothes because now here you were bouncing on her cock with your plush tits in her view. She kissed the flower tattoos across your collarbones before resting her lips on your right nipple, sucking gently as her hands held your hips.

She could almost touch the tips of her fingers together from how small your waist was, her middle fingers resting on your back dimples perfectly.

“Hah fuck! My Minjeongie is so good for letting me use her cock hm?” You managed to word out despite constantly impaling yourself onto her thick and long cock.

Minjeong nodded cutely and almost choked on her saliva when your cunt seemed to tighten around her more. “U-Use me all you want, Y/n-ie”

“Fuck, feels so fucking good, Jeongie! I’m so close, help me cum baby”

Your girlfriend didn’t need to be told twice. She planted her feet on the bed and wrapped you in her arms like a bear before destroying your pussy with repeatedly hard thrusts.

The bed was constantly being driven into the wall from how fast your girlfriend was going but who were you to complain? Her cock was kissing your cervix deliciously and you immediately became mush in Minjeong’s hands, crying and moaning into her neck to the point you even started to drool.

“Oh god yes yes yes that’s it, puppy! Gonna make me cum all over your big hard cock hm?”

Minjeong painted your neck with hickies. “Mhm want to make Y/n-ie cum!”

“Fuck you’re so good to me pup. Give me all of your cum okay? Want you to fill me until my pussy aches. Can you do that?”

Minjeong’s eyes rolled back at your words. “Hah..I’m cumming!”

“That’s it, baby! Fuck I’m gonna squirt!” You bit onto your girlfriend’s broad shoulder and shook in her arms as you sprayed clear liquid all over her cock, pelvis and even the sheets.

Minjeong continued thrusting until she emptied her balls inside your drenched cunt. “Holy shit…”

You pulled your ass up slowly as Minjeong’s cock fell limp and watched thick globs of semen rain from your pussy, moaning at the sight.

After taking a quick taste of her cum, you took the covers that you pushed off earlier and hugged it over you and Minjeong’s bodies, comfortably laying on top of your girlfriend.

Minjeong brushed your hair and was about to ask how you were until she heard slight snoring. You were knocked out quick. Smiling at the sight, your girlfriend sweetly kissed your head and fell asleep with you, reminding herself to give you a good shower once you woke up.

[notafunkiller]

love me like you paid me - co-written with @marvelouslizzie​

Summary: You accompany businessman Bucky Barnes to all the events he has to attend, and you find yourself wishing he wasn’t paying you to be his date.

Pairing: businessman!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (the reader is 24, Bucky is 34), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, nipples play, oral sex, clit play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), cursing, no mention of y/n 

Word Count: 11K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: @marvelouslizzie and I had a great time writing this story, and we really hope you will, too, while reading it.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

> I think I'll be late for a couple of minutes, I am very sorry. You can go inside, you just need to say your name.

You look at the text he sent you once again, to make sure you didn’t miss any details. The thought of going inside alone spikes up your anxiety even though you never met him before. Everything looks so fancy, and you are already feeling out of place.

So you decide to wait. It's better for appearances, anyway. You didn't properly establish the context of you being his plus-one before, and you don't want to make mistakes.

And it doesn't even take a long time. He arrives just five or six minutes later. You watch him get out of the car and look around before your eyes finally meet for the first time.

"I am so, so sorry for being late. But why are you standing here?" He says awkwardly looking at you from head to toe twice as he starts arranging his suit jacket.

“I thought it would be better if we go inside together. It wouldn't look too convincing if we came separately.”

He nods. "Smart. I'm sorry, I'm..." He pauses, unsure, and extends his hand. "You're very beautiful, thank you. I'm Bucky."

You offer him a smile while extending your hand and giving him your name. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself.”

He snorts. "Not thanks to me."

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"I meant my stylist." He explains, freeing your hand.

“Oh.” You feel awkward. You didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but you are carrying it well.”

You see his cheeks getting red. "Thank you. Shall we go inside?"

“Yeah, of course.” You offer him your arm.

"I think I should be doing that." He does the same thing.

You feel so embarrassed for a second but take his arm anyway. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“Don't be sorry." He gives the man at the entrance a smile before saying your names, and in no time, you are led to your table.

You take a look around, trying to be as subtle as possible. It’s even fancier than it seemed when you were waiting for him outside and people seem to know one another as they greet and talk to each other. You feel a faint pain in your stomach.

"You know… in case someone asks you, my three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas."

“What?” You feel so lost.

"My three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas." He repeats this expired joke he read online at some point. "You know, eating my family and eating, my family."

You suddenly snort, not expecting him to make a joke like this.

"I guess you can smile, and what a beautiful smile you have." He pauses and scrunches his nose as soon as he finishes the phrase. "I don't mean to be you know... I am not trying to...."

“You are not trying to what?” You’re still smiling because of his dad joke, totally unaware of why he’s trying to explain himself.

"To make you uncomfortable or something. I just wanted to help you feel better. I am surprised, though. Usually, models feel a little less nervous."

“Model?” You repeat, visibly confused. “I’m… I’m not a model.” Did they tell him you were a model?

"Oh, it explains the height." He lets out a deep breath.

“The height?” You can’t believe he actually said that. Like your height isn’t good enough for his standards. Probably, you aren’t good enough for his standard since you aren’t a model.

"Oh god, no." He groans. "That sounded terrible. I meant, models usually are very tall and look... different. I told them I don't want a model, but my team didn't quite listen. That’s why I said that."

“So you aren’t the one who specifically wanted a model?”

"God, no." He shakes his head. "I actually chose you." He scrunches his nose again. "That sounds even more terrible."

“I know you chose me. How do you think they found a photo of me to send you?”

Bucky snorts. "I should shut up."

“No, no. I mean…” You lower your voice a little to make sure no one hears you. “I was aware of what this is when I said yes. It’s fine.”

"I am making a fool out of myself, I am sorry."

“No, you are not. It’s actually helping me to relax because I was really worried about…” You stop yourself right before saying something stupid.

"Did I seem intimidating?"

“Yeah.” You quickly accept it because his choice of words is much nicer than what you were originally thinking. You expected him to be a pretentious asshole. Instead, he seems like he’s just as nervous as you are.

He smiles. "What would you like to drink?"

“White wine is fine.” It seems like a safe choice.

"I love wine." He smiles. "And to be honest, it’s the only thing I drink at those events. Oh, and champagne, of course."

“That also works, but I can’t have too much.”

"Want to order food before?"

“No, not because of that. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”

"Oh, we can leave earlier." He immediately offers. "I don't stick much around usually, anyway."

“That’s not necessary, we can stay as much as you want. I’m already prepared for my meeting. I just don’t want to seem unprofessional tomorrow by looking like I have a huge hangover. I kinda need it to go well.”

"What do you do if you're not a model?" He asks with a smile, genuinely curious to find out more information.

“I am running my own bakery.”

"That sounds so awesome. Family business?"

“No. I actually started it pretty recently. Still learning how to manage a business and get clients.” You suddenly stop, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. That must sound really silly to you.”

"Silly?" He tries to tuck back a few strands of his hair as he looks at you. "I want to know more. If you want to share of course. Maybe I can even help. I know how hard it can be, especially when you don't have experience. Do you have a partner?"

“No.” You can’t help but smile because he seems genuinely interested. “I’m doing it by myself. Or rather trying.”

"Wow, that must be exhausting and challenging. Do you have employers? How new..." he stops mid-sentence when the waiter comes. "Can you bring us some white wine, please?"

"What kind?"

You watch him as he casually orders a specific brand, then his eyes meet yours again. You realize he’s actually waiting for your answer. “I have one person that works with me.”

"Paying a salary must be hard."

“Yeah, money is kinda tight.” That’s the whole reason you accepted being his date tonight: you want to be able to pay Nicole’s salary, but you don’t say that.

"I'm sorry." He sighs. "Maybe I can help, though." He thinks about a donation or something, but he doesn't even know you or your business.

“You already are. Don’t worry about it.”

The waiter returns with the wine, asking you if you want to taste it, but Bucky gives him a polite smile after looking at you. "Thank you, but no need."

The man nods and starts pouring slowly.

When you taste the wine, you understand why he specifically asked for this one. It leaves a really gentle after-taste on your tongue.

"Do you like it?" He asks nervously as he takes a sip himself.

“Very much. Probably the best wine I have ever tasted.”

"I am so glad to hear that. But did you eat anything before coming here?”

“Ihm… No.”

"Then we should order. Excuse me," he calls the waiter again with a hand gesture.

While he is ordering food, you find the perfect moment to stare at him. He’s speaking in a way that shows he belongs here. He is kind yet commanding. You focus on his face and watch a strand fall on his forehead. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, just gently pushing it back, but you find yourself taking a deeper breath. His lips are full, his smile is gentle and his eyes are curious. That’s when you notice he is actually talking to you.

"Do you have preferences?"

You shake your head. You have no idea what preference he is talking about, but even if you did you are sure you would have no idea what to order in a place like this.

"Do you trust me with this?" 

“Yeah.” You quickly answer to cover the fact that you weren’t paying attention to his food choices. “Just no sea food, please.”

"Of course." He nods and turns his attention to the waiter again. "The same for her, please. Also a bottle of water."

*

It's already pretty late, and it's clear neither of you has much energy left, but you can't interrupt this conversation. You are trying to listen so you can be prepared if they ask you something.

"I agree, the market doesn't look good, but let's see if something changes once they apply the new policies," he says looking at both of you for a couple of seconds. "It's hard for new businesses, unfortunately."

You take a deep breath, knowing what he says is true and how it affects you. Still, you don’t comment on anything, just watching them.

Bucky leans in, laughing politely when the man cracks a bad joke, and you notice how a few  hair strands fall on the side of his face and forehead.

Before your mind can register what you are doing, you find yourself leaning towards him and pushing the hair back. Then you notice what you’ve just done and freeze. Your hand lingers on his hair.

He freezes too, mid-sentence, and looks at your hand, his neck getting so red in just a few seconds.

"Oh, look at that. Your girlfriend is taking good care of you." The man in front of you teases. 

“I’m sorry.” You try to retreat your hands as gracefully as possible so it won’t look suspicious. His hair is back in its place.

"Don't apologize." Bucky smiles, taking your hand into his. "She's always shy in public."

“I forgot for a second we are in public.” That’s not a lie. You really forgot your surroundings and how you were supposed to behave.

"What a beautiful girlfriend you have, Barnes."

You can feel your cheeks burning because of his words. You are not his girlfriend obviously, but will he point that out?

"She's also incredibly smart. You know, she started her own bakery a few months ago in this crazy market."

“Really?”

"Yes, with no help either. I'm really proud of her."

Did he just say he’s proud of you? Jesus christ…

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You know why?” He’s directly asking you that question, and you just shake your head as in no. “Because he started his own company, probably around your age, too.”

"Michael..."

That you didn’t know. You had no idea how he got this rich, and hearing that makes you feel more hopeful.

“I’m just saying.” The man continues. “I can see why you like her. And she’s pretty lucky because she can get the best investment advice or tips on how to run a successful business from you.”

"Oh, trust me, I am luckier." He gives you the warmest smile you've ever received.

You have no idea what to say or do. Should you act like his girlfriend? Should you just smile and nod? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? You should return the compliment. You would definitely do that if he was your boyfriend. 

“Oh, I know how lucky I am,” you say with a smile.

Bucky takes a quick look at his watch. "Alright, I think we need to go. Tomorrow is a long work day. Hope you don't mind." He shakes Michael's hand.

"It was nice to see you."

You are glad it’s finally time to leave. You were getting worried about how much longer you would have to stay here. Not because of him. Bucky seems like a perfectly nice guy, but this fancy place makes you uncomfortable. You gently smile while shaking Michael’s hand and take Bucky’s arm.

"Have a good evening. It was nice to meet you."

“It was nice meeting you too, Michael.”

"I'm sorry for that. Took too long," Bucky whispers in your ear.

“The event isn’t even over yet. We are leaving early.” He shouldn’t have to say sorry for something you agreed to do.

"Is it okay if we drive you home?" He gestures to his driver who's pulling in. You didn't even realize when he texted him.

“You don’t have to, I can take a cab.”

"At this hour?" He puffs. "Not in a thousand years. My driver can drop you off." Bucky offers instantly. It's clear he won't let this go.

“Only if it won’t be a bother…”

"Of course not." He gestures to his driver. "I want you to drop the lady off and make sure she gets inside safely, please. I'll take a cab."

“What?” You didn’t expect him to take a cab. “No, I can’t accept that.”

"Please. Also thank you for tonight, I am really grateful and I enjoyed having you here."

“Bucky…” You stop for a second, feeling hesitation over using his name. “Can I call you Bucky?”

"Of course."

“Bucky, thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You are a gentleman, but I can’t take your car. I thought you meant dropping me at my place on your way home.”

"I thought..." he pauses. "You felt uncomfortable around me and that's why you refused the ride."

“No. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you?”

He smiles shyly and opens the door for you. "Alright, then let's go."

You really don’t know why he thought that and it bothers you. While you take your seat, you decide to apologize for what happened in there. Maybe that’s why he felt uneasy.

He looks absolutely confused when you actually say the words. "What?"

“I am just really sorry about what I did back there. I don’t know what came over me.”

"What did you do?”

“You know… Making you uncomfortable by fixing your hair.”

Bucky can't help but giggle softly. "Why would you apologize for that? That was very thoughtful, thanks."

His giggle catches you off guard. “I thought… I crossed a boundary.”

"No, not at all. Sorry for the boring conversations."

“It wasn’t that boring. I actually learned a couple of things.”

Bucky smiles. "Did you? Not surprised, you're a businesswoman after all."

“I try to be.” You smile back even though you are feeling kinda sad that your time with him is about to end.

"I think you have a big potential. You control your emotions very well. You are smart and know how to enjoy good wine." He gives you a playful but innocent wink as he says the last part.

“And now I know you, so I can ask for business advice.” You repeat Michael’s words very poorly.

Bucky nods. "Of course. And you know maybe I can help... with a donation."

“A donation?” You really didn’t mean to sound that offended, but you are.

He frowns. "Yeah, I really think you got potential in business and it's hard when no one helps you."

Talking about money always bothers you. Getting paid for going out with someone already feels wrong enough, but the way he walks about it makes you feel worse. 

“Can we…. not… talk about this?” Your discomfort is much more clear in your voice than you realize.

"I-Of course, sorry if I bothered you," he immediately says apologetically.

“Talking about money like this bothers me and… just to be clear, I don’t want any help.”

"I understand. I wasn't trying to intrude."

You offer him a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

"I'm really so-"

"Is this the right address?" The driver interrupts Bucky all of a sudden.

“Yeah, it is.” Your answer comes instantly.

"Perfect."

“Thank you…” You stop for a minute realizing you don’t know his name. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before.”

"Noah."

“Thank you, Noah.” Then you turn to Bucky. “And thank you for tonight, Bucky.”

"Thank you." You give him one more smile before opening the door. "Wait."

“What?”

"Are you free on 18?"

“I… think so. Why?”

"I have a proposal for you."

*

As the 18th comes closer, you get more worried about what to wear. You used your fanciest dress at that event and now your options are pretty limited. You search your closet and try to think of a friend who would let you borrow a dress. That’s when you finally see that simple black dress. That might work. When you put it on, your feelings are conflicted, though. It looks good on you, but it doesn’t seem good enough. You are not completely sure about how fancy this event is. Maybe… maybe you can ask him. 

< Hey. Sorry to bother you but how fancy is this event?

> Hey, no bother. Like the one we attended.

> Why?

< I’m not sure about my dress. Is it okay if I show it to you? I don’t wanna be underdressed.

> I am sure that's impossible but of course.

You send a mirror selfie, showing your dress.

>You look very beautiful.

>The dress is absolutely amazing too, but it's a black-tie event. Would you consider me disrespectful if I sent my stylist to you?

< Thank you. 

< No, of course not. I need help. I would appreciate it.

> Gonna send Lila a message and then I'll give her your number if that's okay.

< That’s perfectly okay. Thank you and again sorry to bother you with something like this.

> You don't bother me.

> I mean it.

< I know you are busy. That’s what I meant.

> Well, I am sure you are very busy yourself.

> How is the bakery and how was the meeting?

< I’m done working for the day. So I get to worry about the dress I’m gonna wear.

< The meeting went well but I didn’t hear anything from them yet.

> I hope it was a full day.

> I mean with many clients.

> And I hope they will give you a call.

< It was a tiring day. How was yours?

> Tiring, but productive, thank you for asking.

> Lila will call you in two minutes. She's a nice person. She manages to make me look decent every time.

< You look more than decent and I don’t think it’s all her doing.

5 minutes later

< Talked to Lila. We go shopping tomorrow. Thanks again for the help.

> Don't thank me for that. My pleasure. Have a good evening.

< You too.

The next day, you meet Lila and go shopping together like you agreed. She seems like a fun person and definitely understands your style. Her suggestions are great. but the only problem is the cost When you notice the price tags, you want to leave, but she assures you that it is all taken care of. That’s when you realize Bucky Barnes is paying for this shopping trip. You feel dumb for not thinking about this while talking to him. That’s why he was guarded when he offered help. That usually restlessness creeps up on you because you don’t want his help like this, but Lila convinces you that he is the reason you need new dresses anyway. And it is true. He is dressing you so you look the part. That eases your anxiety and finally, you are able to enjoy your dress hunt. When you come back home, you are completely exhausted but ready for any event he might want to take you. 

*

> Hi

> How are you?

< I’m good, getting ready. How are you?

> I am good too.

> I was wondering if you mind me picking you up...

< You wanna pick me up?

> Yes. I might need your address again, though.

< Noah doesn’t remember?

< I am picking you up.

Oh.

> You should say no if you don't want that.

< No, why wouldn’t I? I just didn’t think you would come without your driver for some reason.

> Do you want me to come with Noah?

> I can.

< I don’t need someone extra to feel comfortable around you, Bucky. 

< It’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do, I will be fine with it.

> Perfect 🙂

> 7:30 or 8? We should totally skip half an hour.

> So boring

< That emoji makes me feel like I did something wrong and you are being kind.

< Both are fine by me.

> See you at 8 then 😁

> Since you hate the other emoji

< Oh this one is much better.

< See you at 8. Leave your overthinking hat at home.

You quickly send him your address.

> Thank you

*

The evening comes even quicker than you expected. He picks you up alone and you have a great conversation on your way to the event. He gives you some pointers about it and the people you will most likely have to talk to and warns you that it’s gonna be boring. And he is right. It is even more boring than the first one. A lot of speeches and conversations with people you don’t know. You try to stay composed and play your part, trying to hide the fact that you are bored as fuck. Bucky comes to your rescue with a fun game. He makes funny comments and on-point jokes before and/or after you talk to someone. His observation skills are extraordinary. He notices stuff that you wouldn’t normally remark. Like a missing wedding ring, so he knows not the mention their spouse during their conversation. He whispers into your ear and makes you laugh the whole night. Hearing his voice that close, and feeling his breath on your neck drives you crazy. Does he know the effect he has on you? Is he doing it on purpose or is he just trying to pass the time as pleasantly as possible? You don’t know. Just like the first event, you leave a little bit early. He drives you back home, offers you a warm smile, and mentions when the next event will take place. You just nod in agreement, already looking forward to it.

*

> Friends or The Office?

> Also hi

< The Office. Love how intentionally awkward it is.

< Hiii back.

> How are you?

> Let me guess who you like the most

> Is he tall?

< Yeah genius, it’s Jim.

< I’m good, how are you?

> I knew you have taste.

> I am good. Now even better.

< Why better?

< Also who else could I like? He’s the only sane person in that office.

> Because I talk to you.

> So true.

He’s feeling better because he’s talking to you. God, that makes your blood rush.

< I like talking to you, too.

< Okay I have a question. What do you think of Karen?

> Karen? Don't make me be a hater while texting.

> It would never end.

> You?

< You know the word hater? I’m impressed.

< I don’t like her either. She tried too hard to make things work.

> I am 34, not 304!

> I feel offended

< It’s so easy to tease you.

> She is boring and annoying. More annoying than that douchebag.

< You mean Roy?

> Yeah

> That punching scene though

< God, that guy is a walking red flag. 

< Pam was truly blind.

> She was. Sad...

< Favorite season?

> Hard.

> Very hard.

> Maybe 4.

> Yours?

< Either 4 or 6.

> Tastee

< You are starting to sound like me 

> Well, I am older, so it's the other way around

< Sure old man. Whatever you say 

> Old but handsome, to quote you

< I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m tipsy.

> Excusess

< Shh you are exposing me too much

As time passes, your conversations become friendlier. You don’t feel like this is something you have to do just to keep your business going. It feels like you two enjoy each other’s company. It feels like flirting. Yet you are not sure if that’s how he feels about all this, too. 

> Hi. Are you home?

< Yeah?

> in a few minutes you might have a delivery

< A delivery? 

< Bucky what did you buy this time?

> I can sense a tone

< Can you?

> A bratty tone.

> You'll see when it comes.

Just a few minutes later you open the door and see a huge bouquet of flowers.

< Jesus Bucky!

< These are so pretty!

< Thank youu.

> No complaining, huh?

> Glad you like them.

> I can complain if that’s what you want.

> I want you to be good and put them in a vase.

< They are already in a vase, sir.

You send a photo of the flowers in your prettiest vase.

> Great.

< I can’t stop smelling them.

> Noted

< I’ve got something to show you. Well two things because I can’t decide.

> Waiting

You send two mirror selfies in two different dresses. The first one is a black dress with a high slit on the right side. The other one is a simple pastel pink dress but the cleavage is on display a little.

< Which one should I wear for the next event?

> You think I am the right person to choose?

< I am your date, aren’t I?

> They both look great.

> Depends on what you want.

< That’s what I think too!

< And that’s why I can’t decide.

< Please help me out.

> Pink?

< Pink it is.

< Thank you.

*

What you didn't expect from this arrangement is how your attachment grows more and more every time you see Bucky. He makes it hard not to miss him with his smile and his jokes, the way he tries to integrate you and always asks how you feel. Truth be told, you're not even professional anymore and you catch yourself wanting to make a move on him every time he compliments you. But you can't, so you're forced to wait for him to do it. And you really hope he will.

*

You probably put too much faith in a rich person because when you see your notification from the banking app, you have to refrain from making a scene. You check twice just to be sure. For some reason, you are paid double the amount for this date and it’s not because he missed any previous payments. No, he just decided to pay you more the moment you started to grow closer.

When you look at him, he immediately catches something's wrong and leans in to whisper. 

"What happened?"

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Because you know if you do, your whole act will be exposed.

Bucky nods and looks at the rest of the table. "We're gonna head back home now. It was really nice to see you."

His reaction surprises you. You have the whole night ahead of us and he already paid you double. Why does he want to leave already?

"Of course. Have a good evening!"

“Oh, are you really leaving this early?” Someone else asks.

"Yes. We have plans for tomorrow pretty early in the morning."

“Ah! Too bad. Still, it was nice seeing you two.”

You both nod before you make your way to the door. You absently watch him asking for both of your coats and holding the door for you.

The way he’s acting like everything is fine infuriates you more. You really hoped something was going to happen between you two. It felt like you were headed in that direction, but you are not so sure anymore. Maybe he never saw it that way. Maybe he was thinking the worst of you and he’s just paying you more for everything he considers extra. It makes you feel nauseous.

"I should have made them change the plate…  Do you have an allergic reaction?"

“Yeah, I am having an allergy reaction.” You lash out as soon as you feel safe to react. “An allergic reaction to you trying to buy everything.”

"What?" He looks at you so confused as if he didn't double paid you a moment ago.

“Tell me it’s just a mistake and you didn’t do it on purpose.”

"Do what? Pay you?"

Oh… He did it on purpose. And just like that the last hope you were hanging on vanishes. 

“Yeah, pay me double just as we were getting closer. Is that all I am to you?” 

"All you are to me?" He repeats shocked.

“Someone you can pay for whatever you want.” You don’t wait for an answer. You just keep going. “Of course, that’s all I am. What else can I be? It’s my fault for accepting this… deal. I put myself in this position. Why would you see me as someone other than a hooker.”

"Stop!" He screams back but not as loudly as you do. "What are you saying? What the actual fuck? When did I even imply that? Paying you double has nothing to do with disrespecting you! Contrary!"

“You don’t have to say it! The moment we started to get closer, you decided to pay me double. I don’t need to be Einstein to put 2 and 2 together.”

He scrunches his nose. "How about us getting closer and me wanting to help you, huh? Did that ever cross your mind? Me wanting to help you pay your debt faster, knowing the effort you make to accompany me to these," he gestures to the place behind you. "But no, of course, you didn't because you think the lowest of me. That I would believe I can buy you and your affection!" 

“Help me?” He must be joking. “When I specifically told you I don’t want help!”

"I just don't want you to struggle. Is it so bad?" His voice is soft now while he stares at you, trying to show you he's entirely honest 

“Have you ever stopped for a second and thought how getting help would make me feel? I’ll tell you. It makes me feel like a failure.”

"You're not a failure. And getting help doesn't make anything you did and do less important, especially since it's small. Please..." he sighs. "Let's continue talking in the car at least, it's freezing. You shouldn't get sick."

“Fine. I will get in, but this… this conversation is not over.” He’s right. It’s freezing and you can’t take it anymore.

He nods gratefully and opens the door for you, which you close with force.

As soon as he gets in the car and starts the engine, he turns on the ac, giving you a look. You keep taking deep breaths and avoid looking at him.

"Please... do you really think that low of me?"

"I don't know what to think anymore." You finally look back at him. "Are you gonna drive or are we gonna have this conversation here?"

"I don't want to drive you home upset. I want to talk about it..."

You stop for a second, consider your options. You can't have this conversation in a public place. "Your place or mine?"

*

Money is clearly not an issue for him so he probably didn't even blink to pay you double you realize as you get inside the house. You try not to look around too curiously. Your image in his eye is already as bad as it could get.

"How low do you think of me?" He repeats the same question while he starts to take off his shoes.

“I should be asking you that question.”

"You're the one who thinks I tried to buy you as a hooker."

“What were you trying to do then if not buying my affection? And don’t tell me helping!”

"To help."

“I don’t want help!” You don’t notice how loud you are. “I don’t want anyone’s help! I have to do this on my own. Is that so hard to understand?”

"Yes and no." He sighs. "I get this drive, I had it too, but I wish you could try to see... that you don't have to do this alone. But instead, you think I see you as someone buyable." 

“Imagine when you started your business and had debt, someone had the means to help you, just give you money like it’s nothing and you don’t get to pay it back. Would you accept it? Would you think it’s your success if someone helped you out like that? Just be honest and answer.”

"Fuck no." He sighs. "But you deserve the money. And you put up with the events and your business..."

“Fuck no indeed. I want to do this myself. I have to prove myself I’m not a failure like my-” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.

"What? Like what?"

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to prove that to myself, okay?”

"How could you think you are failing when you already did so much?

“As long as this business doesn’t succeed, whatever I’ve done so far does not matter. Only the result matters.” You don’t notice you are repeating your father’s words.

"That is bullshit. You think success is based on wins only?"

“It doesn’t feel like winning when you are worried about paying the next month's salaries.”

"That's a worry that honestly doesn't stop. Or at least not for me. Success means failure and worries sometimes. Success means trying and holding on."

“I’m not here to have a conversation about what you view as success, Bucky. I’m here because I’m mad at you.”

"You're mad at me, but you think I am an awful person." He starts taking off his jacket.

“I’m mad at you because you can’t pay me double just because you want to. That’s not how real life works.” 

"Oh, really?" He smiles sarcastically. "I should totally give zero shits about you worrying about paying salaries and having student debt. Totally real-life fun stuff."

“Student debt? How do you even know about that?”

"You mentioned it."

“I don’t remember mentioning my student debt to you.”

He puffs, not breaking eye contact. "I have ears."

“You heard me mentioning my student debt and decided to pay me double?” He’s unbelievable.

"Yes."

“Do you have any idea how much you were paying me before?”

Bucky blushes embarrassed and strokes his beard. "No..."

“You were already paying me nearly a monthly salary. Just for going on a date with you once a week. Do you have any idea how it made me feel seeing that double payment in my account while I was hoping for…”

"Fuck, I want to say I am sorry, but I am not. I am not buying you, no matter how low you think of me. I want to help you. I thought we are already friends."

“Friends.” You give him a bitter smile. “Friends don’t pay each other.”

"Friends help each other." He is getting closer to you.

“Not without the other one asking for help.”

"You're impossible." He sighs. "You can pay me back at some point." He is so serious.

“Which point will that be?”

"Whenever you won't be worried about salaries."

“You said it yourself, that time never comes.”

"Please, doll." He closes his eyes, not even realizing what he said.

“Please what?”

"Can we just stop fighting?"

“We can if you stop paying me.”

"It's your money. You come with me every time. This event was more boring than usual... consider this a bonus for putting up with it and me." 

“I don’t want- I don’t need that.”

"Why not? It's just for now." He seems upset. "Do you want nothing to do with me anymore?"

“I don’t need money to… enjoy my evening with you. I was actually hoping for you to… you know… stop paying me soon.”

"You want to end this?" He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. His voice starts trembling.

“I want to end the payments.”

"So no more events..."

“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t want you to pay me for that anymore.”

"Oh." Bucky thinks a little. "You want to come to meet more people?" 

“Dear god… You are so dense for a smart businessman sometimes!”

"You are calling me dumb."

“Yeah, because you are being dumb or just acting dumb, I don’t know anymore. You can call me if you want me to accompany you as your friend… or date, okay? It’s up to you now.” You reach for your stuff to leave his place.

"I just want to know why you'd find it so bad for me to pay you. Would you not pay me?"

“Don’t you really see the implication?”

"What implication? Tell me what you think."

“Would you pay me if we had sex?”

He freezes, completely taken aback. "What?"

“You heard what I said. Would you love me like you paid me, too?”

"You want to fuck me?" He asks unsure. As if he doesn’t know if he heard you right.

“Do you need things spelled out for you like this?”

"Do you mean it?"

“I have already said too much, Bucky. I think it’s better if I go.”

He grabs your hand when you turn toward the door. "I don't think you said enough."

“You want me to embarrass myself more?” He rolls his eyes. “I think I have made myself clear enough. Time for me to leave.”

"Come on." He smiles. "You didn't say anything."

You let a frustrated breath out. “Take care, Bucky.”

"Doll, please. You can't leave in the middle of a conversation like this!"

“Of course, I can leave. What else is there to talk about?”

"You asked if I'd pay you for sex."

“And I think I got my answer.”

"No, I would not pay you for sex."

“Because you didn’t even consider that option.”

He puffs, and you notice sweat drops on his neck. "Why did you even ask that? I already said I do not consider you buyable." 

He is very close now, holding both of your hands and staring into your soul.

“Because that’s how I feel every time you pay me to spend time with you.”

"God, doll. You are really fucking impossible. You think I don't want to kiss you or fuck you? I think about it all the goddamn time if I let myself, but we had an arrangement..."

“And that’s why I wanna end the arrangement.”

"Done." His answer is instant.

“So you can take me out on a normal date, maybe.”

"Yeah?" He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop both: your coat and bag. But you don’t look down even when they hit the floor. 

“If you want…” You feel your voice suddenly getting smaller.

"May I kiss you?"

“Only if you aren’t gonna ask permission for everything.”

He snorts. "Just answer." 

“You may.”

He does, moving a hand to your chin as he immediately tries to deepen the kiss. The way he kisses you takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to start this kiss so strongly, but you definitely aren’t complaining. His other hand goes from your waist to your ass, grabbing it over your pants. You gasp in surprise, which interrupts the kiss.

He smiles. "Hi."

“Hi.” You try to catch your breath while he starts to kiss down your neck without warning. Your right hand trails up from his neck to his hair as you let out a low moan.

"Fuck." He starts sucking on a spot below your collarbone.

“Jesus, Bucky…” You try to sound as normal as possible. “Take a girl out to dinner first.”

"You want dinner?"

“Well, not right now.” 

"What do you want right now?" 

“Just keep doing what you were doing.”

He kisses you so sloppily, his hands going under your shirt without realizing. You wrap your hands around his neck and close the remaining distance between your bodies.

"Fuck, you taste so good."

“Maybe it’s the lipstick.” You joke and without letting him answer, you start to kiss him again, immediately using your tongue. He moans in the middle of the kiss and then opens his mouth a little further, inviting you in. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt.

"Oh, fuck."

“Can I take this off?” You ask for permission the way he did before.

"Please." He is breathing slowly, looking at your hands

You take your time unbuttoning the shirt, testing his patience.

"Doll, please." His mouth finds your neck.

“Please what?”

"Faster."

“That part comes later,” You say with a suggestive tone and he snorts, leaving another kiss on your neck.

"Left you a few pretty marks." 

“Maybe I should give you some too.”

"Later." When you finally finish unbuttoning, he takes it off in a heartbeat. "Hope you won't hate me."

“For what?” He simply rips your shirt in half in response. “Bucky!” His hands grab your bra while you are still talking. “That was an expensive top!” 

"Was." He just rips off the bra, too. "Just like this was on you. Past tense.”

"Do not!" You lift your finger. "Rip off anything else!"

He bites that finger without hesitation, sucking in it further. You try to take your finger back. 

“Jesus Bucky, how am I gonna go back home now?”

"What? You want to go home?"

“I have to go home eventually, you know.”

"I have clothes, you know?" He starts to take off your belt. "Pants too." You can see he wants to get rid of them too.

“You want me to leave your house in your clothes?”

He kisses her. "What?"

You take a deep, annoyed breath. “Fine, I will worry about this later.”

"May I rip these too?"

“No. No more ripping, please.”

"Alright," he says disappointed but lets you take off your pants while he’s simply staring at your breasts.

“At least I have this to wear while going back home,” you say, swinging your underwear.

"You talk so much about leaving."

“Hmm, do I?”

"Yeah." He's obviously trying not to show he's upset, but he's failing. And this makes you happy… the fact he doesn’t want you to leave.

“Does it bother you?”

"No," he whispers and looks at his own pants. "I can just make you feel good, you know? No rush, then I'll drive you home as you want."

You reach for his pants and start to unbuckle it. “I have a mind that… keeps on worrying. I think about stuff I have to do later constantly, but there’s a way to turn it off. At least for a while.”

He tries to stop you. "I can make you feel good, drive you home and take you on a date tomorrow." 

You finally understand what he actually means. “What? No. That’s not what I want.”

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure you understand we can stop like any time."

“Oh, I know. I just don’t want to.”

"Okay." He smiles and lets his hands fall down.

“I feel like you are tiptoeing around me. Where’s that Bucky I see at these boring events every week?”

"He's here, just trying to do everything right. But I don't know what you mean by that Bucky."

"I mean that Bucky who doesn't hesitate."

"This is different though. I don't want you to think I am a douche, you know?" He sighs. "I don't want you uncomfortable."

"Your hesitation gives me anxiety. And I know you by now. You don't need to worry about that." You push his pants down and they pool around his ankles. Impatiently, he takes off his boxers himself and steps out of them.

"Alright then. Should we move to the bedroom?"

But you are too busy to finally look at him, all naked, to hear him. He looks better than you anticipated and that makes you even more eager to touch him.

He tries not to smile, but it's hard.

“Uhm… what?”

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going."

“Okay.” You move closer and start kissing him again. You grab him gently yet firmly and start moving your hand slowly, just to get him used to the feeling.

"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Feels good."

You gently bite his lower lip while you keep moving your hand. It’s still slow, but you pay attention to grab his balls and brush against the tip, just to see his reactions

"Doll..."

“Hmm?” You stop kissing him and look into his eyes as you decide to kneel down.

"Doll, no." He groans. "Fuck, I really dreamed about this, but let's go to bed."

“If you dreamed about it, why are you saying no?”

"Because we can do something else fun for you too."

“Oh, believe me, this is fun.” You take your tongue out, swiping it on the shaft from the bottom to the top, making him moan immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask, your lower lip touching the tip. He doesn't even seem to hear you.

“Hmm…” And that’s your answer. You take the tip into your mouth, gently licking. "Oh, shit," He moans and without thinking he wraps his hand around your ponytail.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, occasionally swiping on that sensitive spot that makes him moan really loudly. "Holy fuck." He's fully playing with your hair now. "Baby, please..." He doesn't seem to know what he's begginh for though.

“Hmm?” You silently ask while your tongue keeps working on him.

"We should... stop."

You take your mouth off him for a second, just enough to ask: “Why?” Then you take him right back inside your mouth.

"I'm gonna come," he says a little embarrassed.

He might have wanted you to stop because of that, but you have no intention of doing it. You want him to feel good, so you grab the shaft, moving it up and down while you take your mouth off for a few more seconds.

“Then come.” 

Your tongue goes back to the tip, moving in sync with your hand. He can't even ask you if he should pull out because he's already coming in your mouth. You keep moving your head and hand until he finally hisses because of overstimulation.

"Doll."

You look at him while swallowing. “Yeah?”

"Thank you so much, I'm just... fuck me," he groans at the sight in front of him. There is something absolutely sinful about you like this. "I am just really sensitive."

“That’s normal.” You kiss his cock really gently on a spot that wouldn’t cause any discomfort. He lets go of your hair and smiles. You quickly wipe away that line of come dripping down to your chin before he helps you stand up and kisses you hard. You are already unbelievably wet, but the way he uses his tongue takes it to another level. He lifts you in his arms when you least expect and a yelp leaves your lips.

"Gonna take you to the bedroom."

“Yeah, okay.” You wrap your legs around his torso, trying to hide your excitement.

"I'm gonna eat you, okay?" He opens the door with his leg.

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the throbbing between your legs.

"You want to ride my face, pretty doll? Or do you want me on my knees?"

“God…” You think for a second, both options being tempting. “On your knees.”

"You want me on my knees? Want me to beg to eat your pussy?"

“Would you?”

"Beg for it?" He puffs. "For you? Of course."

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

"Just Bucky." He puts you down on the bed and kneels. You laugh a little. His nervousness is definitely fading away. He smiles and starts kissing below your knee. "Please, can I eat you, baby?"

“Oh god… I wanna hear that again.”

"I am begging. Please, allow me." He kisses all the way up.

“It’s all yours.”

He makes the most animalistic sound you've heard from his mouth before and lifts both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Gonna let me do it over and over again?"

“I might wanna do different things in between, but yes…” That makes him smile.

"Thank you." Then he finally starts licking at your entrance.

The first moan you let out sounds like you are trying to catch your breath. Bucky's fingers dig into your thighs when he properly enters you with his tongue.

“Oh god...” That feels amazing. He says nothing, trying to move his tongue around for a little while testing what you like. You instinctively move your hips a little, forcing his tongue closer to your clit.

"Fuck." You barely hear him say as he properly moves his mouth to your clit.

“Yess!” You shake with excitement. Bucky starts to flick his tongue gently on your clit, bringing his hand to your entrance. You don’t realize how you are moving your hips to create more friction. And he adds the first finger inside you without stopping his tongue motion. 

“Ahh, yes.” It sounds like you have been waiting for this forever. His free hand goes up just to squeeze and massage each breast as he adds his second finger.

“Bucky, fuck!” It feels like he’s everywhere. His flicks turn into full licks while his fingers move faster.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna- come.” You can already feel your legs shaking. He continues the pace exactly like this and moans against your clit.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuckk. God, please- don’t stop. Please.” He doesn't stop, he couldn't even if he tried, eager to make you come.

After a few seconds, something snaps inside you and finally, you feel loose. Your whole body is shaking and you can’t get enough of the way he makes you feel. The movement of his tongue, the way his fingers move… And it doesn’t end quickly. No, he keeps going and you feel the same high over and over again until it’s too much to bear. You stop him by grabbing a handful of his hair.

“That was… incredible.” He smiles, raising his head enough for you to see how wet he is. “Jesus…” His beard is soaked. You had no idea you were that wet.

"Just Bucky." He repeats the same joke as he licks his lips.

“Your beard… it’s so wet.” You are too shocked to react to his joke.

"Wanna clean it for me?" He winks and god, he looks so charming.

“Come here.” You open your arms.

He hugs you immediately, his beard making contact directly with your breasts as he’s spreading your wetness all over them.

"Oops." He giggles. "Guess I have to clean up my mess."

You giggle, too. “You know you don’t need an excuse to suck my nipples, right?”

"What? This is not what I'm doing. I like to clean." 

And just like that, you feel Bucky's tongue all over your tits, making sure to avoid your nipples.

“Hmm… That feels good.” He bites a little the skin on your left breast, and you whine in response.

"Hurting?"

“A little.”

"Sorry, baby." He sucks a little around the bite as an apology.

"It's fine. Come here and gimme a kiss."

"No." He gets stubborn and he finally takes the first nipple into his mouth.

You grab his hair and force him away from your nipple. "You are so stubborn."

"You like pulling my hair."

"I was thinking about pulling it for a long time."

"Why didn't you?"

"Well, I touched it instead of pulling. On our first date." 

"Yes." He smiles giving you a small kiss. "Not enough."

“There’s no way I could pull your hair there, you know.”

"True. I would moan."

"You and me both." You giggle again.

"So you felt okay?"

"Okay?"

He smiles. "More than okay?"

"You have no idea how okay that was."

"Probably not. You get to feel pleasure in ways I never will."

"Poor you. We should totally try to change that."

He snorts. "You want to suck me again? Or do you want to fuck me?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Yeah?" He kisses your cheeks. "That's easy."

"Yeah?" Your hips move a little, rubbing against his erection. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Gonna be right back." He tries to get up, but you stop him.

"Condom?"

"Yep. Any preference?" 

"Yeah, none if possible."

Bucky looks at you confused. "What?” He thinks maybe you meant the flavor. “I can find one without it." 

"I meant no condom because I'm on the pill, so it's up to you."

"You sure?" You aren’t sure if he’s excited or surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be? As long as you are clean."

"Want me to bring my blood tests?"

You laugh a little because you know he means it and you couldn’t help but imagine him dutifully showing you the papers. "I will take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."

"Mr Barnes?" He repeats amused as he spreads your legs properly. "Are you gonna call me that when I come inside you, too?"

"Mr. Barnes sounds too formal for that. Gotta find something else for that moment."

He grabs and positions himself at your entrance. "I'm sure you're creative."

You push your hips impatiently. "I will find something fitting."

He enters you without waiting, but he's careful not to hurt you so he stops for a little. You throw your head back because of the way you feel with his cock inside you. A lower, nearly animalistic moan escapes your lips. 

"Oh god."

"Please move."

He kisses you gently as he finally starts to thrust slowly. You are so wet that he's moving so smoothly, dragging your walls every time he pulls back and then filling you up all over again.

"Aren't you a wet little doll?" He shifts his weight on his elbows that he places on both sides of your head.

"I’m so unbelievably wet." 

"Perfect." He buries his head into your neck and starts to move faster.

“I have been… imagining how… this would feel.”

"Did you dream about it?" He doesn’t miss the chance to ask that.

“Once.”

"Only once?" He tries not to sound disappointed, but he fails.

“Yeah, and I was surprised because I don’t dream about sex.”

"How?" He starts sucking harder.

“Ahh.” You moan softly. “During one of those fancy events.”

"Fuck." He lifts his head to look at you. "Did you dream of me fucking you in the closet? Or the baby changing room?"

“In a dark closet. Suddenly you are all over me.”

"Fucking you from behind? Or holding my baby?"

“You were holding me and- ahh. I was trying to- stay quiet. But- you kept fucking me- harder.” His hips move so fast now you can barely speak. 

"Did you scream?"

“I was about to, but I woke up suddenly.”

"Fuck." He groans. "The worst. Did you finish the job?"

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I was so fucking wet.”

"Just...." He closes his eyes. "I'm imagining you using your little fingers under your panties to play with your clit- Shit."

“And it wasn’t enough.”

"No? Poor baby." He leans in to bite your bottom lip for a few seconds.

“It was frustrating.” You moan when he moves his hips a little harder. “Nowhere near… this.”

"Nothing like my cock? Like us?"

“Nuh-huh.”

"God, can't wait to come inside you... to see you dripping."

“Shit, Bucky. You can’t just say things like that.” It makes you clench hard. You need to come. Now.

"Why not? So fucking hot." His thrusts slow down but become deeper at the same time. "Dripping down your thighs. Gonna clean that up for you and share it." He curses. "Gonna pass you my come in a kiss."

“Oh fuck.” His words, the image just pushes you over that edge. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, please don’t come. Not yet. Please.”

"Why not? Do you want me to pull out?" He teases.

“I need one more.” You say while shaking hard. “Just one more.”

"I'm right here," he whispers assuringly. “I'm inside you, not going anywhere. I dreamed about you too." He pauses to curse. "Fuck, I was fucking my bed."

“Tell me… tell me about it.” The orgasm keeps washing you in waves. Over and over again until it fades away.

"You were in my office at work. Came to talk about a gala or we were leaving from there, I don’t know. And we just... we were suddenly kissing and I was ripping off your dress. And I was simply fucking you all over the desk."

“How did it feel?”

"Not even close to this, but it was good. So good. I almost came in my sleep."

“You didn’t come?” You finally feel like your breath is going back to normal. 

"I stroked myself after I woke up and came. A lot."

“Made a big mess because of me?”

"Mhm." He brings his fingers to your lips. "And you weren't there to help me." 

“I’m here now.”

"Gonna help me this time?" His index finger plays with her bottom lip.

“Oh, I will.” You bite his finger gently. “And no mess this time. I’m here to take every drop of your come.”

"You sure you can?" He teases. "What if it's too much?"

“It’s all mine. I don’t care if it’s too much.”

"I'm all yours."

“Oh, Bucky.” You feel like you are melting. You kiss him on the lips passionately. “I’m all yours, too.”

"Yeah?" He smiles and starts thrusting faster. "Aren't you a pretty little doll? All mine, ready to take my come."

“Yours.” You repeat and that familiar pleasure starts to build up again, but you want to try something else. Something you have been imagining. “Can you… flip me over?”

"Sure," he answers a little surprised, and helps you move.

“I have been imagining how this would feel.”

"Thought you did it only once." 

“You know dreaming and imagining are different things, right?” You tease him. You can’t see his expression, but you know he made a face right after hearing your words.

"How many times did you imagine it?'

“Oh, who knows? A lot of times.”

"Tell me what did you imagine when we were like this." He squeezes your hips, so turned on to see your on all fours.

“You fucking me hard.”

"How hard?" He teases leaning in to kiss your back.

“As hard as you can.”

As soon as he starts to properly thrust inside you, a few gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. The positions opens you up in a different way. 

"God, this is... fuck me."

“Yeah, I would say- the same.” It’s hard to speak when he is pounding you like this.

"You're making such a mess on the bed, baby. Around my cock. God, so fucking wet."

“Should I apologize for the mess?” You ask cheekily because he seems so gone.

"You should." He squeezes your ass. "By making a bigger mess."

“I think- that’s- possible.”

"Yeah?" He fucks you even harder, properly using his knees and your hips. "You gonna come?" 

“Yeah! Please!”

"Please what?" 

“Please, daddy.” The words leave your lips before your mind can register them.

"Holy fuck, what did you just say?" He barely manages to keep going, just slowing down. He looks at you as if he doesn't know if he imagined something, and that's how you  realize what you said.

“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” You start to panic.

"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, assuring. "What are you sorry for?"

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just… thinking that.”

"God, baby." He tries to turn your head to look into your eyes by grabbing your chin and titling it up. "You think of me as your daddy?"

“Is it bad if I do?”

"Yeah, it's bad because I can come any second when you call me that." He kisses your forehead. "Be a good girl for daddy and try to come, okay?"

“God, Bucky.” You moan because of his words. You’ve imagine this, indeed, a lot of times, but hearing it? It’s something that can’t be described.

He pulls your hair. "Daddy."

“Oh, fuck.” It turns you on even more and you don’t know how that’s even possible. “Yes, daddy.”

"Did you imagine this, too?" He is leaving you breathless with the way he is pounding you, yet he still demands an answer. "Did you imagine calling me daddy while I fuck you like this?" 

“Yes.” You are so close to coming. So close that you can taste it. “I did- so many times.”

One of his hands finds your right breast and sqeezes. "Please, come for daddy. Gonna be a good girl and come?"

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuckk, I’m coming!” The way your orgasm hits you makes you lose the last drop of control you had over your body. You can’t think of anything beside Bucky and how good he’s making you feel. His pace quickens for a second before he comes. He doesn't manage to warn you he's coming too, but he doesn't have to. His moan and the feeling of his come are enough.

He keeps it going until both of you finish and when you do, the only thing that you can hear is your loud breaths. Then you feel a trail of kisses all over your back.

“Oh my god,” you finally manage to speak.

"Just Bucky." He reaches your neck. "Or daddy."

You laugh. “God, you are so smug.”

"Smug?" He smiles and pokes your skin with his tongue. 

You turn around, finally fully facing him. “Yeah, daddy is real smug.” It feels so good to be able to call him that without worrying about anything else.

"Thank you."

“Who knew Bucky Barnes had a daddy kink?” You can’t help but say. 

"Not Bucky Barnes himself." He snorts.

“You just found out?”

"Yeah." He burst into laughter a bit embarrassed. He’s never thought about being called daddy before, especially not in bed, but with you? With you, it just makes sense. It feels hot.

“Oh god, I am so lucky.”

"Did you always have a daddy kink?"

“I didn’t even know I had one before meeting you.”

Bucky's smile is so big. "Fuck, I am the lucky one." He kisses you properly now, immediately trying to open your mouth by licking your bottom lip. 

“I thought I would freak you out, but look at you, fully embracing it.” 

"How could I not?"

“You liked it that much, daddy?” You wrap your arms around his neck playfully.

"God, I did. You're so hot when you say it. And the way you looked at me."

“How did I look at you?”

"Can't even explain it... I just wanna see that over and over again.”

“Well, you can.”

He scrunches his nose in the most adorable way possible. "Thank you."

“For what?”

"For everything. And for wanting me."

You frown because of that last part. “What does that even mean?” 

"Boring older man."

“Handsome older man, who I have been fantasizing about for a while.”

He giggles shily. "You make me sound like a dirty dream."

“Well, it’s because you are.”

"You are mine too."

“Lucky us.”

"You might never get rid off me." He kisses your forehead.

“I might be okay with that.”

*

It has been a while since you started to date Bucky. After that night, everything slowly started to fall into place. You found a great balance between your lives and your relationship, always making time for each other. You spend a lot of nights at his place. It doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like you are living together. Everything is so natural. 

“I just got the most unexpected call ever,” you say, still feeling fairly surprised by the job you got offered.

"What was it about?" Bucky is still in bed, surprisingly. He's usually the first the get up and go to the kitchen in the morning.

“Mrs. Moore called me to ask me if my bakery could do the catering for their next event.”

"Oh my god. That’s amazing."

“It is! But I am not sure if I can actually do it.”

Bucky frowns and immediately taps on the bed. "Come here."

You listen to him and continue talking while moving closer. “I haven’t given her the final answer yet, I acted like I need to check in to see if we are available, but the more I think about it, the more I notice how hard it would be.”

"I am gonna say something, but I don't think you'll like it."

“You will say you can help me out.”

"Yep." He gives you the biggest smile. "But it doesn't take away anything from your success or your efforts, okay? Just hear me out."

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.” You have been warming up to the idea of him helping you. Maybe not financially, but he has been helping you. He has the best ideas and a great perspective. So you won’t say no to hearing him out.

He reaches to hold your hand. 

"Let me take care of the transport and hire the extra stuff who can serve at the party. I'll call a friend." He pauses. "Just this once, okay? You can curse me out later, bit let me help so you can get more jobs in the future. This is a great opportunity."

“How did you even know I needed help with transport?”

"Baby," Bucky giggles at your confused pouty face. "It's a first experience. You don't have employees for this and it's a big party." Then he shurgs, like it wasn’t that hard to guess.

“Transport, service staff, and extra place to store the food. These are the problems I need to solve if I wanna do this.” You list the things you need to be able to take this job.

"Is that a yes?"

“That’s an I am considering it.”

In response, he simply raises on his knees and kisses you, with his hands on your neck. "Good girl."

“I didn’t say yes yet!”

"Ihm."

“If you assume I will say yes, it’s definitely gonna be a no.”

"No, I am very, very, very fucking horny right now."

“Just because I might say yes to your offer for help?”

Bucky blushes. "It's very hot. And I'm so hard..."

“Jesus… You really want a sugar baby, don’t you?” He must have. He loves the idea of taking care of your every need. That would explain why.

"I just like doing this for you."

“Do you like being useful or do you like spoiling?” You insist. You want him to say it.

He makes a sound from the back of his throat. "Can we just focus on you?"

“No, please… Tell me why exactly this turns you on.”

"I don't know." You see the sides of his neck getting red.

“But I wanna know.”

"Please, just..."

“Gimme an answer and I will give you one back.”

He takes a deep breath but doesn't look at you. "I just love spoiling you even though you don't let me."

You smile. “I might let you a little bit.”

"Just..." He sighs embarrassed. "Just ignore me, okay?"

“This is me… saying yes.” You spell it out for him.

"For my help?" He finally looks at you.

“Yeah.”

"Wow.” He sounds completely surprised. “This is... great." He tries to keep his emotions under control. "Then go ahead and uhm, call Moore back as I send a few messages, okay?"

“She can wait a little bit longer.” You gently grab his erection. He has gotten really excited just because you let him help you. It’s just unbelievable yet you love it. You love that he cares about you this much. “I need to take care of daddy first.”

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

No More Hiding

Summary: When accused of stealing chickens from Mr. Sherman’s farm, Steve brings Bucky to investigate but ends up learning more about his friend’s private life. 

Rating: Everyone

Pairing: Alpha Bucky Barnes x Omega Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 900+

A/N: Not Beta'd. Some fluff to counter the angst I posted earlier.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Rogers, get out here now!”

Steve stalked to the front door. Jerking the handle with a huff. This wasn’t the first time someone complained about his pack. Most of the humans were against a pack of wolves living so close to their homes. While the humans bared their guns, Steve opted for peace.

“Mr. Sherman,” Steve greeted. “What can I do for you?”

The old man scowled. “A couple of my chickens are missing. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that now, would you?”

Steve frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. Mr. Sherman was an old farmer who lived a few miles down the road. A few chickens went missing here and there over the last month and each time Mr. Sherman paid Steve a visit.

“You should invest in a better chicken coop. I already told you; my pack has nothing to do with your chickens going missing.”

The old man took a large step in Steve’s direction, his finger crooked. “Don’t lie to me. I have proof. There’s prints the size of a wolf’s paw all over the coop.”

Steve was stunned. The first time Mr. Sherman complained, Steve called a pack meeting to settle the tension between the pack and farmer. Each of them swore up and down that they hadn’t stepped a foot onto Mr. Sherman’s property. Steve believed them. He had no reason not to. They had everything they needed.

“Don’t look so surprised. I’ll show you and that brute who’s always stealing my game. If you don’t punish the thief, then I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

Steve nodded. “I didn’t find anything last time I checked. I’ll bring Bucky by the coop. He’s got the best nose in the pack. If anyone can find the culprit, it’s Bucky.”

Mr. Sherman didn’t spare a word as he turned his back on Steve. His footsteps echoed along the rickety porch steps.

It wasn't much later that Steve confirmed Mr. Sherman was right. The prints in the mud belonged to a wolf. The pack leader examined the paw prints as Bucky looked inside of the chicken coop. Every once in a while, Bucky’s nose would twitch but he never said anything. 

“Well?” Mr. Sherman snapped with his hand on his hips.

Steve pondered if a neighboring pack crossed into their territory. That would cause bigger issues.

Bucky brushed past Steve and the farmer on his way out of the chicken coop. “You’re wrong. Must have been a dog. Do any of your neighbors have one?” Bucky casually asked, his hands tucked into the pockets in his jeans.

Steve raised an eyebrow in Bucky’s direction.

Before Mr. Sherman could answer, Bucky headed into the woods separating the farmer’s land from the pack’s home. Steve apologized to Mr. Sherman, then chased after his friend. 

“You know who it is, don’t you, Buck.” Steve didn’t need a verbal confirmation. The way Bucky’s eyes focused like they did when he hunted, and his nostrils flared told Steve they were tracking someone. Keeping up with Bucky’s large steps, Steve questioned, “Is it one of ours?”

Bucky grunted, occasionally stopping to sniff a leaf or a branch. “Omega.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you know?”

He made a sharp right, plowing branches in his path. “Smaller prints and sweeter scent.”

The prints made sense to Steve, but he hadn’t smelled anything. Steve hung back and observed the way Bucky stormed the woods like a mad man. That's when realization hit him. It was the only explanation for his best friend's behavior. Bucky Barnes found his omega.

When Steve finally caught up to Bucky, he tread carefully. It didn’t matter. Bucky’s scent alone was strong enough to draw the omega’s attention to the pair.

“Alpha?” The omega pushed herself into a sitting position on the porch. The cabin in the woods wasn’t the most luxurious house, but it was theirs.

Bucky dropped to his knees on the steps below his omega to be eye level with her, to be equal. “It’s me ‘mega.” Bucky muttered, his palm enveloping her cheek. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into his touch. The moment was short lived when Steve cleared his throat. Y/N’s startled eyes locked on Bucky’s. She knew about Bucky’s pack, but he never brought them around. He never brought her to them either. The couple basked in the idea of it being just the two of them for a while.

Bucky asked, “Someone’s been terrorizing poor Mr. Sherman. Stealing his chickens. Do you know anything about that?”

Y/N knew she’d been caught. She also knew which buttons to press to get her way with her alpha. She tucked her chin into her chest and stared back at Bucky with doe eyes. “Of course not, Bucky.” She batted her lashes. 

Containing his laughter, Bucky plucked a feather from Y/N’s hair. Pinching the feather between his fingers, he tossed it over his shoulder toward Steve. Bucky cupped Y/N’s cheeks planting a soft kiss to her lips.

Steve frowned, “She can’t keep stealing Mr. Sherman's chickens. You know if he finds out he’ll have the whole town after us.”

Bucky stood, holding his hand out to help Y/N to her feet. Turning his head to Steve he replied, “I’ll take responsibility for her. She’s my omega. I’ll take care of her.” Turning back to Y/N, he squeezed both of her hands. “Come on ‘mega, no more hiding. Time to take you home.”

[voonroo]

Hi!!! I’m currently on a Hazbin hotel hyper fixation and it’s not funny, but I saw your requests were open and I need to fill a void.

May I please have Vox with an overlord reader who can separate parts of their body. Like they can take off their skin and just jump around as a skeleton. Or maybe is Rosie is hungry they just take off some of their muscle and go “here it’ll grow back”. Weird I know but I thought it was cool!

Thanks and totally ok if not!!!

It's Just Regeneration. Oh.

⌐‣Vox x Overlord Reader REQ.

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: AKSKSKAKA I ADORE YOUR WRITING-

(I was 👻 anon on my alt-)

I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSS!!! YOURE ALSO MY FIRST REQUEST—🥳 You didn't specify what format you wanted soooo I just went with a basic drabble? Idek if this qualifies as a drabble I'm still trying to figure out the differences even after being on this app for over a year… ALSO MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR VOX SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

Vox probably first met you in an Overlord meeting.

At first, he paid no mind to the new presence, assuming you were just another new face that may fall before too long.

But he was just delighted to find out you would last long enough to make a memorable impression.

Even if that memorable impression was you literally tearing off a chunk of your own flesh to pass it over to Rosie sitting next to you after the woman had quietly stated that she was growing hungry.

“Oh, it will grow back.” God damn. No wonder you've managed to last.

Since then, he's been keeping an eye out on you. With you being able to regenerate and be unfazed by losing parts of your physical body- which, you only get one of btw- he deemed you a possible strong opponent. (or a great ally)

He started to keep tabs on you, as one does. This was how he found out just how you quickly rose through the ranks.

He would be wary of you, but he wouldn't outright avoid you like he tries does to do with Alastor.

One time he was doing some stalk-scrolling, and saw a video of you literally shedding your skin and your skeleton turning toward the camera before the video cut.

His expression after seeing that was a silent eyebrow raise in quiet shock. Your little regeneration thing you had going on- he didn't know it could go to that extent.

After seeing that- there's a 50/50 chance that he’ll either bring it up in hopes of maybe blackmailing you to get you on his side (most overlords do not enjoy the fact that someone knows how they kill) or just stare at you in silence during the next overlord meeting. Kinda hoping you'd just shed your skin.

But deep down he knows the latter won't happen.

He’ll just have to chat with you himself. Who knows, maybe you'll become a valuable asset.

Word Count: 330 (this feels too short)

Inbox is open!!

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.10

Charles Leclerc x ex! Reader, Oscar Piastri x Reader

Author’s note : So I don’t write narrative or rather I don’t write fanfic narrative, but there’s so much I want to say in this fic that feels clunky putting in like a text message. So here y’all go. I’m not 100% satisfied with the Oscar bit but also I started writing at 2 and it’s now 3:30 am so I’m gunna go to bed and then probably write some more in the coming days, do not worry we will get more in depth Oscar lore! - Algae 🌱

••••

Despite almost being 20 years old, Charles had been just a boy when you met him. A boy with a chip on his shoulder and the world at his feet—a dangerous combination that should’ve sent you running but had the opposite effect. When you first saw him, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He paid you no attention, probably didn’t even realise you were loitering on the outskirts of his garage, watching the mechanics run around in a dazed frenzy, but you were enthralled by him.

He stood steadfastly in front of his car, with a pinched look adorning his face, forehead creased, and eyebrows drawn together. Anyone else would’ve written him off as confused, overwhelmed, not fit to have signed a contract saying he’d be battling in F1 alongside the greats—they still wrote him off as an emotionally unstable boy. But even before you had ever spoken to him, you understood what hardly anyone else did. You understood that, while Charles Leclerc was still a boy, he was more calculating than confused. And in the years of knowing him that followed, as you’d watched him progress to f1, as you’d watched him win races, that statement would prove to be true time and time again.

As the memories of your early encounters with Charles flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. He had been so young, so full of ambition and determination. You had admired him from afar, drawn to his intensity and drive to succeed. Despite the chaos of the racing world swirling around him, he had always seemed to have a clear vision of where he was going.

But somewhere along the way, things had changed. The pressures of fame and success had taken their toll, turning him into a shell of the boy you’d met. The boy with the fire in his eyes had become a man weighed down by expectations and responsibilities. And in the process, he had pushed you away, convinced that you didn't understand the sacrifices he had to make. Convinced that he held you captive in a life you weren’t ready to lead.

Charles may have told you some bullshit excuse about children and the future but you had always been able to see through him and despite this separation nothing had changed. From the arguments in the months leading to the breakup you knew he was putting an unnecessary amount of pressure on himself, putting all his hopes and aspirations on Ferrari, despite how often that had proven to be a mistake. Yes, the stupid misunderstanding of your future together was a large part of the reason you broke up, but you had a incessant feeling that Charles had felt trapped in his life, in his racing, and had attributed that trapped feeling to you.

You did not want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. You didn’t want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. Those were the thoughts that plagued your mind on the 8 hour flight from JFK to Nice, and as you drove down to Monaco you couldn’t help but think about your parents. You had grown up with parents who had no business staying together, yet just couldn’t leave each others orbits. And no matter how much you cursed this dynamic as a child, you were worried that it was something you were bound to repeat. As you pulled in to the hotel you had decided to meet Charles at - nice neutral territory, you realised even if you didn’t get back together, you were going to forgive him. And it would be the easiest thing you had ever done. You checked in. Getting the key from the concierge as they told you someone had already checked in earlier.

You spotted him immediately. He was sitting at a small table near the window, a glass of something amber in front of him. He looked up as you approached, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There he was, the man you had loved for so long, the man who had been your everything. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You sat down opposite him, your heart in your throat.

"Charlie," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"Hi," he replied, his eyes searching yours. "You look good."

"Thanks. You too."

There was an awkward silence, both of you unsure of how to begin. Finally, Charles took a deep breath. "I'm glad you came," he said. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"I needed to see you," you admitted. "I needed to know if... if there's still something here."

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "I've missed you," he said quietly. "It's been strange, not having you around."

"I've missed you too," you replied, your voice cracking slightly. "But I don't know if missing each other is enough."

Charles looked down at his glass, his fingers tracing the rim. "I know," he said softly. "I've been thinking a lot about us, about what went wrong. And I realise now that I wasn't fair to you. I was so focused on my career, that I had built a different reality in my head, and that I didn't see what it was doing to us. I'm sorry."

His words hit you hard, the sincerity in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. "I'm sorry too," you said. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to say you had nothing to be sorry for, but you continued, eyes downcast "I wasn't always patient, I didn’t like that I couldn’t get a read on you. I just - I wanted us to be happy.”

"I wanted that too," he said, finally looking up at you. "And maybe we can be, but we need to be honest with each other. We need to figure out what we really want."

You nodded, wiping away a tear. "I don't know if I can go back to how things were," you said. "It hurt too much."

Charles reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I don't want to go back," he said. "I want to move forward. I want us to be better."

His touch was familiar, comforting, but it also reminded you of the pain you had endured. You pulled your hand away gently, needing to keep some distance. "I'm seeing someone else," you said, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Charles looked taken aback, his eyes widening slightly. "Oscar," he said, more a statement than a question, “so you’re actually seeing him?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "It’s still new, fuck it’s really new, and it wasn't planned," you said quickly. "It just... happened. After we broke up, he was there for me. He wanted me, and it started off as this petty way to make you jealous but I feel something more for him."

Charles was silent for a moment, processing this new information. "Do you love him?" he asked finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"No," you admitted. You could practically feel a weight lift of Charles’ shoulders "I do care about him. A lot."

He nodded slowly, his expression pained. "I understand," he said. "I can't expect you to wait for me, to put your life on hold. But I still love you, and I think we could have a future together, if we both want it."

He held out his hand to you, and maybe you were going to regret it in the future but you took it.

INSTA

carlossainz55 posted on his story

(Image 1 caption : summer with friends. Image 2 caption : reunited )

seen by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 2,344,234 others

User31 : brother what?

Used42 : oh my god please tell me they’re back together!!!

charles_leclerc : y/n isn’t going to like this. delete it now for your health

lewishamilton : so that’s where she is… tell her to message me

y/bff/n : oh brother this guy STINKS.

user32 : bop

yourusername : delete this now

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••••

You hadn’t been ignoring Oscar, okay maybe you had just slightly. But spending the short break with Charles was, okay you don’t know what it was. You were confused. Really fucking confused. Being around Charles had encompassed you, like it always did. The week and a bit you had spent with him was a whirlwind of emotions. You spent time with Charles, talking about everything and nothing, rediscovering the things that had brought you together in the first place. You laughed together, reminisced about the good times, and shared your hopes and fears. It was comforting, but it also made you realise how much you had both changed.

But Oscar Piastri was something new. Not just new something novel, he brought fresh perspectives, and the way he made you feel was so different from how you felt with Charles, and something in you said you had to give him a chance. So you guess you had been ignoring him, but only due to the fear that he’d want answers you wouldn’t be able to give. The weeks after your ‘not date’ had been filled with constant phone calls, and texts, and despite the constant feeling to remind him that you weren’t dating you both knew that wasn’t true, you both knew there was something there. So you couldn’t blame Oscar for his eagerness, in fact you relished in it, you knew Oscar was playing it up to make you laugh, make you open up more and it was working. He deserved much better than you.

••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

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@c-losur3

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@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 14

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

You knew that Steve and Bucky weren't as close as they used to be, but seeing it up close felt even more awkward. Bucky, on the other hand, didn't seem stressed despite his mother being sent to jail.

As you watched Bucky load your groceries into your car, you asked, “I don't feel any bromance between you and Steve anymore.”

Bucky shrugged, not missing a beat as he placed another bag in the trunk. “Well… I won’t deny it. Ever since we all went our separate ways, while Steve stayed, everything just became different.”

“I did offer him a job at the resorts, but he declined.” His voice held a note of regret. “It’s sad that we’re not close anymore.”

You watched him for a moment, feeling a pang of something you couldn't quite identify. You never had someone who used to be close to you turn into a stranger. The closest person you had was Ransom. He betrayed you once but still kept in contact. Then there was Harlan, the only older person who was like a grandfather figure to you. But he's gone now.

“You're a good friend,” you said softly.

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “Did… Did you just give me a compliment?”

“No.” You quickly got into your car, hoping to hide the faint smile on your face.

He chuckled and hummed, “Yes, you did.”

As you closed the car door, he knocked on the window. You rolled it down a little. “What?”

“I know I'm asking a lot, but could you help out at the resort again?” Bucky’s voice was earnest, almost pleading.

You raised an eyebrow. The idea of going back to the place that kicked you out felt just as wrong as when you got fired from Drysdale. Memories of the humiliation and hurt still stung.

Bucky seemed to sense your hesitation. “I will make sure the environment is different this time.”

That got your attention. “How?”

“You'll see it tomorrow.” He smirked a hint of mischief in his eyes, and then turned to leave. You watched him walk away, a mix of curiosity and skepticism swirling in your mind.

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

The next morning, you woke up with uncertain feelings. Should you go back? But you decided to give it a try.

When you parked your car, you saw someone walking out the door carrying a box. It was Natasha.

You got out of the car and walked past her. Natasha glared at you, spitting out, “Bitch. Are you happy?”

You stopped and turned to face her, feeling a newfound confidence. “What did I do that made Bucky fire you? Tell me. All the evidence points to Lydia.”

Natasha flinched, taken aback by your directness. The old you would have been too afraid to talk back to her.

In truth, only Bucky knew the real reason she was fired. She had been receiving hush money from Lydia. The first time she caught Lydia red-handed, stealing money from the vault and stuffing it into her designer bag, she was paid off to keep quiet.

Her front desk salary couldn't buy her designer bags and shoes with cash. The money from Lydia was the reason she could afford them. But no matter what she had, it was nothing compared to what you possessed.

“Tsk.” She clicked her tongue and walked away.

You sighed. She hadn't changed. She always lashed out at you.

“Did she bother you?” Bucky's voice broke through your thoughts.

“No. She just blamed me,” you replied, shaking your head.

“I'm sorry,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic.

“I'm used to it. She hasn't changed at all,” then turned and walked into the building.

You started working again. You felt more relaxed, perhaps because Lydia and Natasha were no longer there to cast their shadows.

‘Knock, knock.’

You lifted your head and saw Jake standing at the door.

“You're back,” he said, stepping inside.

“Yeah,” you replied, continuing your work.

He took a seat in front of you. “Me and the other employees are grateful to you.”

“Why?” you asked, looking up.

“Because those women are gone,” Jake said.

Your pen stopped moving. “Was it that bad?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “Well, we kinda knew. But we couldn't do anything. Especially me. This place was the only one that gave me a job after what happened.”

You leaned forward, curious. “Can I ask what happened to you? Someone as smart as you making a mistake like that doesn’t seem right.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “People won’t believe me when I tell them, but I guess you could understand it.”

“Me?” You raised an eyebrow.

He nodded. “Just like you, I was framed for something I didn’t do.”

Before Jake came back, he had a good job at an IT security company. But he was blinded by money when he got an offer to make a gambling website.

“Wait… what about the rumor you hacked the Department of Defense’s security?” you asked, intrigued.

Jake leaned in, lowering his voice. “That’s… well, off the record. I can’t tell you about that. But it wasn’t the reason I got arrested.”

The reason he got arrested was someone tipped off the authorities that he was the person who made the illegal gambling website. Jake did, but he was also accused of receiving $30 million from money laundering that was used on the site.

“Wow,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you know who asked you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, scratching his head. “It's my own fault too. I got the request from the dark web. It was difficult to prove to the judge, and I didn’t have the money to pay for a good lawyer.”

“How did you get released?” you asked, still in disbelief.

“I got a plea deal. I knew some secrets. Do you want to know?” Jake winked at you.

You scoffed, “No thank you,” and went back to work.

Jake chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “But seriously, thanks for what you did here. It means a lot to all of us.”

You nodded, acknowledging his gratitude, but focused on your work.

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

You went back home, only to see the last person you wanted to see walking out of your house—the mayor.

You stayed in your car until he left, then got out and headed inside.

When you entered the house, you saw Tom sitting on a chair with his head resting on his hand. He looked stressed and pale.

You rushed to him and touched his shoulder. “Father?”

Tom flinched, then looked up at your face. He patted your arm. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” you asked, your voice filled with concern.

“Could you stop whatever you're doing right now?” he said, his voice trembling.

Seeing how stressed and scared your father was, you knew it could only mean one thing—the mayor had given him a warning.

“Did he threaten you?” you asked, your eyes searching his face.

Tom shook his head. “No, he just gave me some advice. Lydia has all the connections. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bullshit. It wasn’t advice. It was clear that Lydia and the mayor were partners in crime.

“I'll listen to you,” you said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

Tom sighed in relief and nodded, glad you didn’t object. “I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?”

Before you could answer, your phone vibrated. It was Steve. “I’m going to take this,” you said, stepping away.

You moved to another room. “Hey.”

Steve’s voice came through the line. “Are you busy right now?”

“No. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’ve arrived at the art gallery,” Steve said.

“That’s great!” you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

“Y/N?” he continued, sounding a bit uncertain.

“Hmm?” you prompted.

“I feel so small surrounded by these skyscrapers,” he admitted.

You remembered feeling the same way when you first arrived in the city.

“But it gives big opportunities,” Steve added, a note of hope in his voice.

You smiled, feeling a bit lighter. At least there was some good news. “Stay optimistic like that, and you’ll get it, Steve.”

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

In a big house, a woman lay on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine. An ankle bracelet adorned her right ankle—it was Lydia.

Bucky came home and walked into the living room, his footsteps echoing in the spacious room.

The moment she saw him, her expression twisted with anger. She hurled the magazine toward him, but he caught it effortlessly.

“You're just like him,” she spat, her voice dripping with bitterness.

@starsofcloud

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Levi Ackerman - For some tea.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “levi's reaction to somebody trying to flirt w reader but he's like "sorry i got a husband" when they're not even engaged 😭” - @vainillacookie

Reader : male (you/yours)

You and Levi had readied yourselves to go out, Gabi and Falco with you. They had asked if they could come and you had agreed.

Falco pushed Levi into a shop, a tea shop as Levi had wanted, to refuel the stock that was running almost empty.

Once inside, you took separate ways to cover more ground, everyone taking a pack of their favorite tea.

You, unlike the rest, went to the cashier, the owner of the shop for some help. You didn't know what to take, being difficult in taste.

She was kind and agreed immediately, leading you a bit everywhere in her shop to show you everything she had.

She had placed her hand on your back, making you raise an eyebrow as she led you around. But you thought nothing of it, thinking she was just the touchy type of person, trying not to lose you in the… two aisles she had.

“A handsome young man like you in my shop, I'm almost flustered.” She finally says, chuckling.

“Ah.” You laugh too, nervously. “Thank you ?”

Her hand moved from your back to your arm, keeping you close. You tried to look for Levi to get you out of this situation but he was too busy reading the ingredients of a tea pack.

“I can show you the back-shop if you want.” She smiled, her hand caressing your biceps and you blinked.

“Huh ?”

She blushed slightly, feeling a bit awkward she has to repeat herself but does it anyway. Your eyes widened.

There was no doubt, with the way she looked at you, her hand on your arm and her tone, she was flirting with you. All the signs were there ! You couldn't help but smile nervously, looking at Levi who watched with a slightly surprised expression, having heard what she said when she repeated herself. He waited for you to give her an answer, clearly a bit amused by this.

“Uh.” You looked at her, her thumb gently pressing against your biceps. “I'm sorry, I already have a husband.”

“Oh.” She immediately pulls her hand away, visibly embarrassed, before looking at your fingers. “But I don't see a ring.” She says, a bit bashful.

“Well, I'm picky about rings too.” You say with an awkward laugh, reminding her of your difficult taste in tea before walking toward Levi. “Have you found what you wanted, love ?” You ask, your hand resting on his shoulder.

He blinked, a bit taken aback by the nickname but he quickly answered.

“Yes. I've got everything. And you… honey ?” He almost smiled at his last word, nearly losing his composure. He wasn't one for nicknames, so using them always felt a bit funny, odd.

“Yeah. Gabi ? Falco ? Are you done ?” You call them out and they turn around, hands full of biscuits for tea time.

“Yes dad.” Gabi replied, making Falco giggle.

“Gabi !”

“Shhh !”

The woman looked at you, her pale face showing surprise at the two kids who were yours, apparently ?

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know.” She says, feeling more embarrassed about the situation. Trying to make herself smaller to disappear. You smile awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

“We uh, we'd still like to pay.”

“Oh, right ! Right ! Right this way.” She quickly says, almost running to get back behind her cash register. Ready to move on to something else.

You paid for the tea and biscuits before leaving. The bag resting on Levi's laps as you pushed him outside the shop, Gabi and Falco quickly behind you.

“Husband ?” He asks.

“I panicked.”

“If you wanted to propose, you could've done it more directly. I'm the first one concerned after all.”

“I asked you out so you should be the one to propose.”

“Oh yeah, and who made that rule ?”

“Your husband !” Falco and Gabi say in unissons, grinning proudly while laughing.

He rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I guess I'll propose and make you my husband then.” He said with a sigh, turning slightly to look at you, his lips curving into a faint smile.

[bladiegfs]

it's been a long, long time

➵ hcs + drabbles of being separated from your lover for a while (ft. jing yuan, blade, gepard)

➵ warning(s) applicable: none

➵ wc: 2.3k

➵ they say distance makes the heart grow fonder. but sometimes, you can't stand it.

➵ author's note: hugging (and a kiss on blade's) as a treat...

Jing Yuan

⇢ It had been a while since you two saw one another; you were both far too busy with the threat of the Stellaron Hunters coming to Xianzhou.

⇢ You were busy with matters concerning work; no matter whether or not literal criminals could be walking the streets, the world stops for no one.

⇢ Well, most especially because you were involved with the Realm-Keeping Commission. It kept you ridiculously occupied, so much to the point that you couldn’t even pick up your phone.

⇢ Many things were keeping you occupied: first was the clear issue of the well-hidden secret of Blade’s escape. Second were the strange visitors that Sushang had been lugging around, especially the one carrying around a coffin and… hitting enemies with it. Third was the investigation of the spread of mara within soldiers— the Cloud Knights had been bleeding more men than predicted, which only made it more difficult for them to handle the criminals.

“He’s quite suspicious, isn’t he?” You comment, pulling Sushang to the side. The young knight raises an eyebrow at your words. “Who?” “The fair-haired one,” You explain. “The one with the coffin.” “I thought of that, too,” Sushang nods. She then beams at you, “But I can handle this, [name]! Trust me— you don’t have to worry more than you already do. The Loufu General won’t be too happy to know you’re running on anxiety, you know?”

⇢ And of course, you greatly missed Jing Yuan. At first, it was a faint feeling of sadness that resided in your chest. Then, as the days went by, it only grew in intensity. Somehow, seeing happy pairs of Foxians walking outside left a bitter taste in your mouth.

⇢ However, you had to push those feelings to the side and needed to put all focus on doing your job— the determination of ending all that gets in the way kept you fueled. After all, the sooner you deal with work, the sooner you’d be reunited with him.

⇢ And when all things ceased— finally and for the better, too— you find yourself overly aware of just how much you really missed your beloved. His absence had made your side turn cold.

⇢ Not only that, but worries also started to wander into your head. Where is he? What had happened to him these past few days? He didn’t do anything reckless, did he?

⇢ Those questions, you thought, could be easily answered by the one junior you know you could trust: Yanqing. And there he was, wiping his sword clean of dirt on a pavilion. You approached him, raising a hand in acknowledgment as you call out his name. He looks up at you with a bright smile.

“The General…” Yanqing tilts his head, eyes wandering up as he thinks. Some grime was on the little boy’s cheek as well as his hand, but he paid them no attention, or perhaps he did not notice. Then, his expression lights up and he says, “I last saw him with Madam Yukong! They’re probably at the Starskiff Haven.” “Thanks, Yanqing,” You smile, one hand reaching out to away wipe the dirt on his face as you spoke. Yanqing’s hand quickly darts up his face, replacing yours. With a voice tinged with shame, he says, “You better hurry or you might miss him.”

⇢ When you arrived at Starskiff Haven, the docks were filled with other officials within the Sky-Faring Commission. You peeked between the crowd, looking for him— looking for a hint of that light hair, and straining your ears to pick up the sound of his voice.

⇢ It was difficult to look around. There were far too many people blocking your line of sight, and he was likely right up front, unconsciously commanding attention like he always has. 

⇢ And so, you turned around, opting to wait for the crowds to dwindle instead.

⇢ As you turned around, you bumped into someone. Before you could apologize, realization dawned upon you. You open your mouth soundlessly, unsure of where to start.

“Looking for someone?” Jing Yuan says, a playful smile on his face. You quickly rushed in for a hug, engulfing him in your arms. He stumbles back a little in surprise, momentarily stunned before returning the embrace. “Missed me that much?” He teases you as you melt into his arms. “You have no idea.” You reply, holding him even tighter. A laugh escapes his lips as one of his hands combs through your hair. He breathes in deeply and replies in a voice low enough that only you can hear, “I missed you too.”

Blade

⇢ Worries filled your head the moment you heard that Blade was captured by the Cloud Knights.

⇢ Kafka was quick to wave it off when the news hit, laughing as she does so. It did little to dissuade your worries.

“Oh, Bladie’s fine,” She quickly says, her voice a little more gentle this time. “Don’t worry about it, [name]. It’s all going according to plan.” “Plan,” you incredulously echo. Kafka nods as she turns to one of the screens, projecting an image of the planet. “After all, he’s already gotten away.” “Huh?” You stand up, your chair dragging on the floor with a loud noise. “What’s he doing now, then?” The half-grin Kafka gives you answers none of your questions.

⇢ With that, you breathe out a sigh of relief. Kafka had already plotted to go to Xianzhou Loufu herself— something about fulfilling what Elio had foreseen. None of which you’re allowed to know, but the fact that she’d be there reassures you.

⇢ You find yourself resting a lot easier. You return to your duties, significantly less bothered.

⇢ …Until a certain someone lets it slip that Kafka has gotten captured by the Divination Commission’s Master Diviner.

⇢ The entire situation spelled trouble; Blade had a nasty habit of meddling in fights involving any other members of the Stellaron Hunters. Hell, that’s how you met him first. But not only that, you worried about what information the commission could read on Kafka, and what they could possibly do to her.

“I’ll come get her myself,” You grit your teeth. Sam laughs, “Hey, don’t be rash. It’s all going—” “According to plan,” You finish, irritation audible in your voice. “That’s what you’re going to say, right?” “…Going to be alright, then,” Sam offers a sleazy smile. “Better?”

⇢ Right as you were briskly walking to the teleporters— followed by Sam who refused to let you go— a loud noise rattles the headquarters and lights flicker on and off for a second before stabilizing once more.

⇢ You rush to the source of the noise and was met with the sight of him dusting his clothes off, clicking his tongue. Meanwhile, Kafka sat beside Silver Wolf, amused as she watches Blade move.

⇢ When Blade meets your eyes, his expression somewhat relaxes. But he doesn’t spare you a greeting as you unconsciously scan his person; your eyes narrow at the new set of bandages wrapped around his arm. He then walks out of the room, pushing past Sam.

⇢ Looking around and at the three hunters looking at you expectantly, you sigh and turn to follow Blade.

⇢ He quickly walks through the halls and disappears behind the automatic doors of his room. You hasten your steps, and when the doors open for you, he’s seated at the foot of his bed, in the progress of removing his top.

⇢ He silently glances up to look at you and his hands stop working on his clothes. Instead, he leans back a little, propping himself up with one elbow against the bed and his free hand motioning for you to come closer.

⇢ You follow him and find a seat on top of his lap. You wrap your arms around him, breathing out as you feel his warmth once more.

Blade’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you even closer.  A jolt of electricity moves through your spine as he moves lower to press kisses on your neck. He murmurs against your skin, “Missed me?” “Yes,” You whisper. You feel his mouth curve up in a smile at your reply. And he leaves it unsaid as he kisses you, his lips meeting yours; I missed you, too. 

Gepard

⇢ From the very start, you understood what Gepard’s line of work meant and you admired him for it.

⇢ But there was also the fact that there were days that were truly rough for him. He is a skilled fighter but there were still days when he’d come home wounded and tired. And you knew that he always means to be careful– he hated to see you look so worried and distraught– but his work comes first before anything.

⇢ And with his position in his work, it was all the more riskier. ‘To fight for Belobog is an honor,’ they said, but it sure didn’t feel like one whenever Gepard comes home to you and you’d see him injured. 

⇢ Fortunately, those days were sparse.

⇢ But suddenly, there were orders for the Silvermane Guards to be dispatched outside the city. Length of stay? Indefinite. They were to remain there until they’ve completely eliminated the threat of Automaton Beasts— machines that might as well be pests with the way they never seem to never run out. 

⇢ You felt somewhat assured that Gepard can handle the threat; he told you things like these were a walk in the park for him.

⇢ It was the distance that troubled you, as well as the intense cold outside the city. You vividly remember your early teen years, when you’d curiously explore the vast, snowy plains and shivered as you moved.

“Be careful,” You told Gepard as his hand hovers over the doorknob. “Stay safe, alright?” Gepard throws a glance behind his shoulder and looks at you with a small smile. “I’ll try.” You give him an unamused scoff, which only makes the smile on his face grow. Then, he gives in and says, “I’ll contact you as much as I can.” Slowly, a tiny smile also appears on your face.

⇢ Days turn into a week. He’d occasionally call you at around dinner time, checking in on you and chatting about trivial matters. You’d ask about how his mission is going, and he’d tell you the same thing he usually does: “It’s going great. Don’t worry, [name].”

⇢ But one night, the clock ticks past dinner time and you stare hard enough at your phone that you could almost launch it flying with just your gaze.

⇢ After a while, you pick up your phone— it works two ways, doesn’t it? But it only rings, and rings, and rings.

⇢ You told yourself to not worry about it too much; he was probably simply occupied for the night. He deserved and earned his rest.

⇢ Until it extends to four nights of silence. Four nights of not hearing his voice, not knowing what’s happened to him. Nothing.

⇢ At this point, you had wanted to march right out of the city walls once more, just like what you had done before. But you snapped back to reality the more you thought about it— you didn’t want to give the guards another thing to worry about, another to look out for.

⇢ Instead, all you could do is sigh discontentedly as you stare into your phone, waiting and waiting and waiting.

⇢ Seven days had passed since you last heard from Gepard. An entire week of waiting for news– waiting for anything at all– to tell you that he’s alright.

⇢ Then, as you walk through the city to quickly shop for more rice, you overheard a conversation between some guards within the city.

“—the captain.” “How long?” “I have no idea. Apparently, they’ve run into one of the biggest ones and sent his subordinates back to camp with one foot in the grave.” “So he’s fighting it alone?” “One at a time, yeah, I think. Chipping away at it. But it has been like, what? A week? Who knows how much longer it’ll be?” “Right,” The guard nods. “It could take him a year if he just kept going by himself instead of mobilizing his juniors.” “You know the captain. He’s not that type of person.”

⇢ You stumble back home, sick to your stomach.  Gepard– the sweet, kind, caring man that he is and you fell for– had been fighting alone, all for the sake of his subordinates.

⇢ Right as you were about to get your phone to call Serval, the person you know would understand, you saw some guards and paramedics within the city walk in packs through the window.

⇢ Curiously, you peek out. Suddenly, hope and dread both fill your stomach as you see lines of guards– Gepard’s subordinates– start to litter the streets and go en route to the nearest medical bay.

⇢ You quickly rush outside your home and trail behind them, anxious to see their captain, your Gepard.

You pushed through the other soldiers, determined to make your way to him. He stood there, looking worse for wear. Yet, he stood steadfast. It was as if the wounds all over him didn’t exist. Instead, he ordered the paramedics to take his subordinates first. Your heart aches as you watch him and found yourself unable to hold back any longer— you pushed past another line of soldiers with some effort and broke through. With that, you start rushing toward your lover. When he catches sight of you, his walking first speeds up, until he starts rushing to you as well. And it was as if the world stopped moving when he catches you in his arms, engulfing you in a tight embrace. He cradles your head when you mutter, “I thought… I was so…” “It’s alright,” Gepard replies in a soothing voice. “I’m here. I’m here now.” 

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

ღ first attempt at short stories on tumblr. bear with me. ღ

college (summer) break au: a fic in this y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, eventual smut warning as I'm planning for this to come in parts

index part one | part two

part one word count: 1,266

“thanks for letting me stay over here this summer, Yuj. I really didn’t want to go home over the break but I couldn’t stay in the dorm either so you’re a lifesaver.” you tell your best friend while following him up the stairs to his front door. both of your arms are full of groceries, same as Yuji’s. the first store run of the summer. 

Yuji looks back at you, giving his usual wide grin. “of course y/n, you know you’re always welcome. you’ll just have to excuse my brothers, I’m sure they’ll be keeping to themselves but if they cause you any trouble I give you permission to punch them.”

you laugh, but you know his concerns are mostly valid. 

Yuji has two older brothers; Sukuna and Choso. the latter is always keeping to himself, blaring loud metal music in his room (which is always almost pitch black), and exclusively communicates in grunts ninety percent of the time. the former… well… Sukuna is the biggest asshole you’ll ever meet. however, that doesn’t stop you from feeling your heart stop when he’s in the room. how can someone who's an absolute dick walk around looking like that? 

you’ve had a crush on Sukuna since high school, when he was a senior and you were an underclassman. of course he never paid you any mind. and when he did, it was to pester you and try to get a rise out of you. [little did you know he enjoyed that]

Yuji held open the front door for you, allowing you to walk into the house and hurry yourself to the kitchen. you’d been successful carrying a load of groceries so far; until you see Sukuna standing shirtless in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. 

all of the groceries drop out of your hands almost immediately. “for fuck’s sake, y/n are you really that weak?” Sukuna yells, walking over to try to clean up the mess you made.

“it’s not my fault you scared me you asshat, I came around the corner and you were just standing there quiet as a mouse.” you snap at him, trying to stop the blush from creeping onto your cheeks. 

“woah, y/n that’s my fault I shouldn’t have asked you to carry so much!” Yuji joins the two of you in the kitchen, setting his groceries down and proceeding to help. He angles his head towards the stairs before shouting, “Choso, get down here it’s time your turn to make dinner!”

you hadn’t even notice the music coming from upstairs. how Choso’s ears don’t bleed you’ll never know. even from a separate floor your ears are almost in pain; but you guess that could be from the embarrassment you were already feeling. soon after Yuji hollered, you hear heavy footsteps coming down, before you see him. Dark, messy twin buns and his signature face tattoo… you could almost admit that the tattoo was attractive, but it didn’t compare to the ones all over Sukuna’s body. it’s a surprise that Yuji hasn’t gotten one yet. 

“hey, y/n.” Choso says to you in a low tone, so low you barely catch it. all you can do is nod while still trying to catch up with the chaos of the groceries. “Yuji says you’ll be crashing with us for the summer, is that right?”

“yep. didn’t want to go home but couldn’t very well sleep on the streets, y’know?”

“I think you’d feel right at home on the streets.” Sukua chuckles, and you proceed to slap the back of his head. “hey! physical violence!”

“oh yeah, I told y/n that she has full permission to hit the both of you if you cause any trouble.” Yuji warns them, causing Choso to raise his eyebrows in direction like he’s doubting I could ever cause any harm. “and just saying, she does a have right hook when she tries.”

-

after dinner was done, you volunteered to clean the dishes since Choso cooked and Yuji bought the groceries. it also didn’t seem like Sukuna was going to speak up and you were the guest after all. you even tried to ignore Sukuna’s “because she’s a girl” comment he made under his breath when Yuji tried to get him to take over for you. 

Choso and Yuji stay downstairs with you while you clean up, both of them talking about their plans for the summer and everything they want to do. you don’t hesitate to chime in on occasion, but the only responses you get are from Yuji. eventually, it’s you and Yuji left downstairs, with both brothers shutting off in their rooms. 

“I’m gonna take the couch tonight, okay y/n? tomorrow I’ll work on getting the spare bedroom ready but for now just take over my room. there’s a bathroom right next to it, but just be warned, you do share a wall with the bathroom and the other wall with Choso.” Yuji explains as you yawn. 

“so what you’re saying is I should pick up some earplugs.” you remark to him, making the both of you laugh. you bid him goodnight, before heading up the stairs to find Yuji’s room. it wasn’t your first time sleeping here, but every other time you were almost certainly black out drunk and never remembered getting up the stairs in the first place. 

after getting settled in Yuji’s bedroom, you grab the extra towel he gave you and your pajamas before going to get a shower. you take a quick scan of the second floor, and curse under your breath. of course there’s only one bathroom upstairs. before you can knock on the bathroom door to be sure, the door to the right of Yuji’s opens suddenly, startling you until you see Choso in his pajamas staring at you. 

“I think Sukuna is in there, but do you need to get in there next?” Choso asks you, rubbing his head. you nod silently, earning a sigh from him. “well, I just need to brush my teeth so would you be okay if I went first? I’ll be in and out.” 

“of course, this is your house after all.” you answer, just as the bathroom door handle starts to turn. steam rolls out once the door is opened, and you’re face to face with Sukuna in only a towel with water still dripping off of his hair. 

“move.” the eldest sibling grumbles, nudging past you to get to his room. you can’t help but let your eyes follow him before he gets to his door. 

for a split second, he turns his head to meet your eyes. if you had blinked you would have missed it. then as soon as it happened he was slamming his door. 

heat crept over your ears and cheeks, but you tried to shake it off. Choso brushed past you to get into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and you took a deep breath. you stood waiting, but Choco didn’t shut the bathroom door so you just looked around and at the ceiling instead of being weird and watching him practice oral hygiene. 

“all yours y/n.”

“thanks.” your gaze ends up following Choso back to his bedroom door, mostly just making sure you would have some privacy once you shut the bathroom. and yet… there he was. stopping just short of closing his door before looking up at you, his dark eyes blending it with the darker line tattooed across his face. 

you shut the bathroom door behind you, taking a deep breath once again. what the hell was that feeling in your chest?

-

[lady-of-tearshed]

Birthday... cake?

Cassian x Reader

Cassian week 2024

Day 6: Birthday

@cassianappreciationweek

Summary: You tried baking a birthday cake for Cassian's birthday, but you overestimated your poor cooking skills.

Warnings: description of panicking, angsty

Word count: 824 words

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears 💕

You had spent the whole day wandering through the busy street of Velaris with your little list in hand. When you got home in the early afternoon, your basket had been full of different dry ingredients. Flour, sugar, cocoa powder, bicarbonate powder, ground coffee… Everything you needed to make the best chocolate cake ever. 

“The cake that will make any male fall in love with you over and over again!” The vendor had told you while you paid for all of the ingredients. 

Honestly, you could've just bought a cake from the bakery just down your street, but you had wanted the cake to come from you. To impress your mate. 

Stupid Fae pride. 

The reality hit you full force when the time had come for you to pull the cake out of the oven. The cake looked… sloppy. Slimy. It didn't even look like a cake.

You looked nervously toward the clock, realizing Cassian would be home soon. Panic surged through you as you analyzed the extent of damage. Brown cake batter was splattered on the walls, furniture, floors… Towels were scattered in every corner of the room, and what was cooling down inside of the pan in the center of the table looked like anything but a cake. 

Before you could surge into action and start cleaning up the mess, the front door creaked open. Your throat tightened, and you froze in place. Your heart thumped faster with each footstep that echoed through the silent house. 

“Princess? I’m home!” Cassian shouted from the living room, getting closer to where you stood.

“Happy birthday, Cassian!” Was what you would've said to the male leaning against the doorframe, if the words didn't stay stuck in your throat. Tears welled up your eyes and your shaky hands dropped the wooden spoon to the ground. You had failed. Again. 

Your shoulders slumped, and your lips quivered. Warm tears rolled down your cheeks, fraying a path through all of the floor and cocoa powder splattered on your face. 

Cassian frowned. He quickly walked the few steps separating you, kicking aside all of the towels and cooking instruments scattered on the floor. His strong arms wrapped around you, cradling your face against his chest. 

“Princess…” He cooed, kissing the crown of your head before lifting your teary eyes to meet his. “Why are you crying?” 

“I wanted to… to make you a cake,” You sobbed, tears pouring freely from your eyes. “For your birthday…”

Cassian hummed, rubbing his large hand in circles against your back. He let you cry as much as you needed to, gently swaying you from side to side while whispering sweet nothings in your ear, in an attempt to calm you down. 

Once your sobs turned into sniffles, he took the nearest “relatively clean” cloth to wipe your face, teary eyes, and snotty nose. “It's okay… I've got you…” His eyes scanned the kitchen, then he spotted what looked like an uncooked cake. “Can I taste it?” 

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away from him. “If you feel courageous enough… yes.” You mumbled. 

Cassian's warm laugh lightened up your heart and made your lips shift into a small smile. He lifted you up into his arms, and sat on a chair. He did not mind at all that his ass was settled straight into a puddle of frosting. 

He dipped his large finger into the pan, and brought it to his lips quickly before it could spill on the dirty table. He sucked it clean, and his eyebrows frowned in concentration as he swallowed. 

His hazel eyes sparkled, and his brows lifted as he stared into your eyes. “Princes… it tastes amazing!” 

You crossed your arms, not believing him for one second that this was good. You knew Cassian, and how he would eat a whole shovel of shit, without hesitating, if it could make you feel better about your cooking attempts. 

He rolled his eyes then plunged his fingers right into the pan, coating his fingers with the sweet mixture once again, then shoved them into your mouth. 

You jolted slightly, surprised by the sudden intrusion of his fingers on your mouth, but then your eyes widened. “It really is good!” You said when Cassian pulled out his fingers. 

“Best birthday cake ever,” Cassian purred, bringing the cake pan straight to his lips, filling his mouth with the chocolate mixture that he swallowed greedily. 

Your eyes shone with pride and adoration as you stared at your mate's delighted face as he swallowed mouthful, after mouthful, of cake batter. The bond hummed beneath your chest, and you let the pleasant feeling wash over you, settling deeper on Cassian’s thighs. It was like falling in love with him for the first time all over again. 

Cassian knew he'd probably be sick to the bone tomorrow morning from all this sugar. But hey, you only celebrate your 542 years old once in a lifetime, right? 

Acotar Taglist: @lilah-asteria @mybestfriendmademe

Cassian Taglist: @acotar-lover @ladybookstan

[jae-bummer]

Un-Breaking Up

Request: i’m not sure if your request are still open honestly it’s my first time requesting ever. do you think you could do one of 10, and 13 with changbin, they were exes and something happened either one could say 10 and then they get stuck together, idk this was a big brain fart

Prompt:

10) “Was it worth it?”

13) Oh no! There's only one bed!

Pairing: Stray Kids Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)

Song rec as you read: Top or Cliff - KIM SEJEONG

.

"What do you mean there's only one room left?" you hissed into your cell phone.

"They overbooked for the weekend," Chan sighed on the other end of the line. "We reserved the rooms when you and Bin were still together."

"And I told you I would pay the extra to get my own room," you groaned. This could not be happening.

When you had agreed to go on this friend-cation, you had been blissfully wrapped in the throes of love.

Now, you were stranded at the airport with a headache and an ex-boyfriend hailing a cab.

"It would have been nice for you to tell me he was on the same flight by the way," you scoffed.

"You literally booked the flights together-"

"You said he was going to change them to come in earlier! With you!"

"I thought he was!" Chan gasped. "Look, if you can't suck it up and be an adult for five minutes-"

"It's a twenty-minute drive," you pouted.

"And rooms are already sorted, so you guys are just going to have to figure it out," he sighed. You could almost hear him, miles away, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Can't he like...stay on your pull-out couch?" you hedged. "I'm sure your partner won't-"

"Oh, they will very much mind," Chan chuckled. "Plus, Changbin paid his portion just like everyone else. He's not getting downgraded to my loveseat."

"He's small enough to fit damn near anywhere," you muttered.

"Y/N," Chan said slowly, careful to keep his annoyance reigned in. "We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Just say you hate me," you complained. You knew you were being dramatic, but you were in too deep to turn back now. It really wasn't your intention to be a brat, but you and Changbin hadn't seen each other in weeks. Your friends had inadvertently become children of divorce, so you knew Chan didn't deserve the grief you were giving him.

"If by hate you mean love," he said cheerfully. "Now get your butt here. I'll see you in the morning."

Rolling your eyes, you hung up the call and shoved your phone in your pocket. Turning on your heel, you marched over to where Changbin was shoving suitcases into the back of a taxi.

"Everything okay?" he huffed, pushing the very last of the luggage into the trunk. "What did Chan say?"

"That you've been invited to sleep on his pullout couch," you smiled brightly.

"Y/N."

"They couldn't get us separate rooms," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And we have to make do."

Changbin's eyebrows shot up. "I'll pay the difference."

"Tried that," you sighed. "They literally have no more room."

"They always have more room," Changbin grumbled, yanking his phone out of his pocket. "Even if it's an executive suite."

"By all means," you hummed, sliding into the back of the waiting car. "If you think you can do something literally no one else could, go ahead."

Choosing not to acknowledge your comment, Changbin joined you in the backseat. Careful to keep a sufficient space barrier between the two of you, he informed the driver of your destination before getting on the phone with what you assumed to be the hotel concierge.

No matter how charming he could be, the fifteen minutes he spent on the phone yielded no results. As he hung up, you could see how ruffled he was. Leaning his head against the window of the taxi, he slowly exhaled.

"Let me guess?" you remarked. "No matter how much money you threw at the problem, it didn't work?"

Taking a deep breath, he swiveled toward you. "I was just trying to help-"

"No one asked," you said sharply. "I tried to fix the problem and couldn't. So did Chan. I don't know why you thought you could come in and save the day-"

"You used to like it when I saved the day," he bristled.

You knew you weren't being fair and simply picking at him just for the sake of picking. "I used to like you in general, but here we are."

Changbin closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. Luckily, the hotel was already coming into sight. Unluckily, you would still be stuck together for the next few days.

.

"Shit," Changbin said, stepping into the hotel room.

Yanking your suitcase over the lip of the door, you made your way into the room, stopping just behind him. "What-"

The words were erased from your tongue as you took in your surroundings. The room was gorgeous, and admittedly, pretty romantic. You were greeted by a small seating area and a low table decorated with rose petals and snacks. Looking further into the room, you could see you had your own private pool outside, intimate and moody with low lighting. The thing you had avoided recognizing though was perhaps the most obvious.

There was only one bed.

"Perfect," you croaked, completely exhausted by this whole situation. "Absolutely perfect."

"I could try to-"

"My guess is," you said slowly. "That they are so fully booked, that they won't be able to move us to a room with two queens."

"But you don't know that for sure," he said with a small nod, trying to convince himself. "I'll go to the front desk."

"Knock yourself out," you sighed, leaning against the wall to begin sliding slowly down it. It was time to accept defeat. "Better yet actually knock yourself out."

Changbin shot you a dirty look as he yanked the door open and disappeared from sight.

Too bad he was back within ten minutes.

"Let me guess," you smirked. "They are fully booked and won't be able to move us to a room with two queens?"

"You don't have to gloat," he pouted, plopping on the edge of the bed. Looking helplessly around the room, his focus landed on the two armchairs in the seating area (very much not a normal, pull-out couch.) "I can just make a pallet on the floor."

You felt a small pang in your chest. As much as you didn't want to admit you had any threads of care left for the man in front of you, you did. And unfortunately, you didn't want to condemn him to sleeping on the floor. "That wouldn't be fair to you."

"It is what it is," he sighed. "And I'm not going to subject you to laying in a bed with me when you don't even want us to be in the same room."

"Stop being dramatic," you scoffed, totally projecting. "We can make a pillow barrier. Plus, I really don't want to hear you complain and make me into the bad guy."

"Y/N," he groaned. "It's not like that."

You chewed on your lip, knowing it wasn't. Changbin had honestly been much more charitable than you had even tried being since the two of you had broken up. You had pinned most of the reasons for separating on him, so maybe he had taken it to heart.

Choosing to ignore his protests, you began to unpack instead. Leaving the top two drawers in the dresser open for him (a habit from when you were dating) you silently moved your clothing and essentials to various parts of the room.

"Do you mind if I shower first?" he asked. His tone was careful, as if he was waiting for you to explode.

You hated it.

"Go for it," you answered.

He moved quietly toward the bathroom, leaving you with only your thoughts as you heard the click of the lock.

Moving toward the bed, you shoved your face into a pillow to let loose a mix between a groan and scream. Sometimes it just helped to make nonsensical sounds when you were feeling frustrated.

It was difficult being around Changbin again. Even though the two of you had broken up, there were feelings there. You had been so desperately in love with him at one point, you just assumed you would be a little bit in love forever. You thought the two of you had been bulletproof, but in one evening of anger, you managed to break both your heart and his (and still clung to the rationalization that it was all his fault).

You knew who he was when you had started dating. Seo Changbin, member of Stray Kids, producer in 3racha, gym rat, and lastly, boyfriend. All of those things came first, and you were so, so tired of being the last checkbox on the list. After being cancelled on for maybe the hundredth time because there was some sort of work emergency, you had had enough. His things were waiting in boxes when he had eventually shown up, and you had endless reasons for why you didn't want to continue forward.

When he begged, you had shut him down. Looking back now, you knew it was because you were afraid. It was easier to have a hard break than admit that you were both flawed people who weren't trying hard enough. It was easier than actually making the effort and being uncomfortable. You werent't ready for that advanced level of vulnerability.

Changbin was one of the softest and squishiest individuals you had ever met, which made it even harder. Any form of neglect he had stumbled into subjecting you to had never came with a hard edge. When he apologized, he was genuinely sorry. He was too good and pure to have to deal with you being upset over something he loved. He dreamt of being an idol before he even knew you existed. It would be the best for both of you if you just stopped interfering in his success.

Maybe the thing that hurt you the most though was seeing how it seemingly didn't affect him. He continued forward like nothing had happened, even treating you as a friend whenever you happened to run in the same circles. That was when you decided you couldn't like him, even if you loved him. It was easier to be annoyed than show how hurt it made you.

It was sick to say that you had wanted him to be just as miserable and lost as you were.

As you heard the water cut off, you pushed your face away from the pillow and took a deep breath. It was just a quick trip. You could be cordial for the sake of your friends.

You heard him before you saw him. With the phone glued to his ear, he was chuckling at someone on the other line. It was difficult not to ogle at the water droplets still decorating his shoulders and collar bone, even though he was technically fully dressed in a tank top and shorts.

"We need to redo the guide," he instructed. "I might be able to break away for a little bit and record something.

Yes, I know I'm on vacation, but we're already behind."

After a few more minutes of arguing, he hung up, and tossed his phone onto the bed.

You couldn't help yourself. "Was it worth it?"

"Hm?" he asked. You knew he had to pull himself out of his own thoughts before he could address yours.

"Was it worth it?" you repeated, crossing your arms.

"The shower?" he asked, lifting his brows and smiling his patented one-sided smirk. "Absolutely."

"No," you croaked. "Working. On vacations, in what's supposed to be your free time. Was it all worth it?"

He plopped on the edge of the bed, keeping his back to you. "We're talking past - past tense here...aren't we? Not the call I was just on."

Your silence was answer enough.

"I like to think it was," he said quietly, tilting his head to the side as he made a hissing noise to reprimand himself. "But as days go by, the more and more I wonder if I was wrong."

You chewed on your lip, not at all knowing what answer you had expected, but that wasn't it.

Looking over his shoulder, he slowly pivoted his body to face yours. His expression softened as he said quietly, "Is that why you hate me?"

Your jaw dropped open as you floundered for one of your knee-jerk, cutting responses. His face conveyed such helplessness.

"...I don't hate you, Changbin," you said quietly. Surely, he had to know that.

"I don't think I would blame you if you did," he chuckled sadly. "I put just about everything before you, didn't I?"

"It wasn't a matter of putting things before me," you said slowly. "It was a matter of putting things before us. We were supposed to be a team."

The old adage that time heals all wounds was at least proving itself to be slightly true. It was definitely easier to speak on how you were feeling now that you had put some space between yourself and the initial confrontation.

Changbin nodded slowly. "I wanted to be better."

You tried to take the ice out of your tone. "I did too."

"Then why didn't we try?" he asked, looking toward you with watery eyes.

You tried to focus on your breathing. If Changbin cried, you were absolutely going to cry.

"I thought...I thought that I had done so badly as a boyfriend," he continued. "And that's why you treated me like I was an inconvenience once we broke up."

"You were an inconvenience," you grumbled. "Only because I was still so upset...and you were acting like everything was okay between us."

"I don't know how to act otherwise!" he contended. "We broke up and I still loved you. Treating you any other way would have hurt my heart, and I'm too selfish to do that on top of what was already done."

"Huh," you hiccupped, feeling the tears come despite your best efforts. "I really goofed, didn't I?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"I was the one who did the breaking up, Bin," you said quietly. "I tried to tell myself I shouldn't feel bad because it was your fault. You were the one who was always gone, but I didn't try to talk to you about it. I let it become this completely...other thing inside of me. It was like every time you cancelled, I added it to this stack until it finally tumbled over."

"But I should have realized on my own," he asserted, standing up to move closer to you. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he gathered your hands in his. Looking up through his lashes, you could see the toll the last few months had taken on him.

You were foolish to think he wasn't suffering in the same way you were.

"We can blame ourselves all day," you sniffed, finally letting the tears run over your cheeks. "But it doesn't change the fact that we broke up...and now we're here."

"So we un-break up," he mused, saying it as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Un-break up?" you muttered.

"Mhm," he hummed, easing up from his knees to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he tucked you into his side.

"It's not that easy," you hiccupped, shaking your head but making no attempt to untangle your body from his.

"Who says it can't be?"

"We're different people now, Bin," you maintained. "Do we even know if we can be that safe space for each other? It ended so poorly last time, and-"

"Because we let it!" he argued. "But we know now-"

"Do we?" you interrupted. "We don't actually know how to fix what happened. We walked away."

"And here we are, walking back," he chuckled, shaking his head. "We can try, really try...if you think it's worth it."

You chewed on your lip, looking toward him. His eyes were still a little puffy from his brief crying episode, but it was definitely the same Bin you had fallen in love with months ago. His dark hair was beginning to dry in its signature messy curls, and his even darker eyes watched you carefully. There was a fire there that had been extinguished for so long, seeing it again caused your heart to skip a beat. Now that you had opened the door, he would push as hard as possible to make his way back in.

"Y/N?"

"I may not be worth it," you laughed grimly. "But I know you are."

"I didn't know we were throwing a pity party," he teased. "I should have bought streamers."

"I take it back," you grumbled. "You aren't worth it."

Changbin's grin was wide as he wrapped his other arm around you and squeezed you tightly. "Of course, you're worth it, silly."

"So we're doing this," you whispered into his bare shoulder. The smell of his shower gel was still heavy on his skin, encouraging you to inhale deeply. For the first time in weeks, you felt at home.

"Hell yeah we are," he chimed. "We're going to do the shit out of this."

You laughed as you pulled away from him. You wanted to look into his eyes. He needed to understand.

"Starting now, we both promise to do better," you nodded slowly. He nodded along, eyes wide. "Which means, do you really have to work while you're here?"

He smirked, letting out a small chuckle. "Starting now, I am going to be so present in this relationship, you're going to get sick of me. You'll be begging for me to go to the studio."

"Somehow I doubt that," you sighed, lifting a hand to cradle his jaw. He tilted his face, nuzzling your palm before dropping a soft kiss there. "But I'm excited to see you try."

[disneyprincemuke]

sick little games * op81

neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (series masterlist)

(prev)

you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.

oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.

on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.

you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.

you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”

“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”

“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”

he blinks at you. “too soon.”

“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”

you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.

oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”

“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”

he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”

you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”

“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”

you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.

a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”

“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”

“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”

oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”

“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”

you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.

and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?

“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”

“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”

“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”

he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”

“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”

“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.

“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”

“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”

you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.

he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”

“oscar…”

insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”

you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”

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