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batmanisagatewaydrug · 9 months ago

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2025 book bingo time 📚

want a completely arbitrary set of reading goals for 2025? want to try something new in your literary diet but don't know where to start? just like a challenge for the sake of a challenge? just love a good game of bingo?

boy do I have something for you!

for anyone planning to participate, please know that I LOVE attention and talking about books, so I would be STOKED to be tagged on any and all updates about what you're reading or planning to read. I'm so, so excited to see all the different ways these prompts get filled, especially if and when they bring people away from the kinds of things they normally read. not to mention snag some new reading recs myself, hopefully!

and of course, I want to know whenever somebody gets a bingo - and ESPECIALLY if somebody fills the whole board! I don't have any prizes for you, but I can offer a sense of accomplishment :)

note that this is designed to be played as 1 book = 1 space, so even if you read, say, a fantasy graphic novel published in 1923 from an indie publisher that has a bat on the cover, you'd only cross off one space. I'm not a cop and I'm not in charge of what you read, so if it sparks more joy to check off multiple spaces per book then go nuts, but I am throwing that disclaimer out there.

EDIT: the 2025 book bingo challenge is now also on storygraph, thanks to @obi-wann-cannoli!

DOUBLE EDIT: there is also now a discord server for the book bingo, thanks to @drivingmebonkas! you can join it here!

wondering what some of these spaces mean? seeking a couple recommendations to get you started? no idea what a zine even is, let alone how to make one? worry not! I have a guide to all 25 prompts, including recommendations + an example of what I'll be reading throughout the year to fulfill each space. read on beneath the cut!

Literary Fiction: I find that a lot of people are reluctant to check out literary fiction, as it’s often written off as not being about anything but adultery and divorce. If this is you, I implore you to take a chance, acknowledge that adultery and divorce are compelling sometimes, and also remember that lit fic has a lot more to offer than that. At Writer’s Digest, Michael Woodson describes literary fiction as “less of a genre than a category,” which “focuses on style, character, and theme over plot.” My recommendations include Raven Leilani’s Luster, Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, and Melissa Broder’s Milk Fed.

I’ll be reading: Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

2. Short Story Collection: You know, a bunch of short stories together in one book? It doesn’t get much more self-explanatory than that. Could be a collection of stories by a single author or an anthology—it’s up to you! I recommend checking out Mariana Enríquez’s The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (translated by Megan McDowell), Nalo Hopkinson’s Falling in Love With Hominids, and Kim Fu’s Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century.

I’ll be reading: Your Utopia by Bora Chung and translated by Anton Hur

3. A Sequel: It could be one that you’ve been meaning to get around to, one that’s not releasing until 2025, or the sequel to something you read to cross off another space on this very bingo sheet!

I’ll be reading: Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao, sequel to 2021’s Iron Widow

4. Childhood Favorite: Go back and read a book you loved as a child, tween, or teen! There’s no wrong answer here; anything from a YA novel to a picture book would be just lovely, and I can’t wait to see what people pick for this option! I’m not sure which of my old favorites I’ll be revisiting yet—should I go for the warm and fuzzy Casson Family series, or straight towards the mindfucky sci-fi of Interstellar Piggy? Or maybe I’ll go see how Artemis Fowl holds up...

5. 20th Century Speculative Fiction: For those not familiar with the term, speculative fiction can encapsulate science fiction, fantasy, and anything else that falls into the unreal. You’re spoiled for iconic choices here: the 20th century gave us Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness, Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale, Butler’s Parable of the Sower and Kindred, L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, the beginning of Pratchett’s Discworld series, Diana Wynne Jones’ Howls’ Moving Castle, and countless others.

I’ll be reading: Dawn by Octavia E. Butler, love of my literary life 💜

6. Fantasy: Fantasy comes in a thousand different shades, from contemporary urban wizards with day jobs at the office to high fantasy spellslingers chasing dragons away from castles. Some examples I’ve adored are N.K. Jemisin’s The Killing Moon, C.L. Polk’s Witchmark, Fonda Lee’s Jade City, and Nghi Vo’s Empress of Salt and Fortune.

I’ll be reading: The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty

7. Published Before 1950: This one could not be more straightforward if I tried. You have all of human history (or at least, all the parts that have surviving literature), just not the last 75 years. Dig deep!

I’ll be reading: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, published in 1938

8. Independent Publisher: Did you guys know that just five publishing companies (Penguin Random House, HarperCollins Publishers, Macmillan Publishers, Simon & Schuster, and Hachette Book Group) are responsible for 80% of books published in the US each year, and 25% of books globally? Break away from the big five and see what some small presses are putting out! If you need some ideas about where to start, check out this list of nearly 300 independent publishers with notes on what kind of books they put out!

I’ll be reading: Taiwan Travelogue by Yáng Shuāng-zǐ and translated by Lin King, from Graywolf Press

9. Graphic Novel/Comic Book/Manga: Despite my personal obsession with Batman, the world of comic books is sooo much wider than Gotham City—or anything else that DC and Marvel have to offer. If superheroes aren’t your speed, check out the Southern gothic of Carmen Maria Machado and Dani Strips’ comic The Low, Low Woods, splash around in Kat Leyh’s graphic novel Thirsty Mermaids, or stop waiting for a new season of Dungeon Meshi and go read Ryoko Kui’s manga, translated to English by Taylor Engel.

I’ll be reading: The Fade, by Aabria Iyengar and Mari Costa

10. Animal on the Cover: Yes, yes, don’t judge a book by its cover—but do go find one with a critter on the cover and give it a read! Absolutely no other requirements here, get silly with it.

I’ll be reading: Shark Heart by Emily Habeck

11. Set in a Country You Have Never Visited: Fiction or nonfiction, doesn’t matter so long as it gives you a little glimpse of a country you’ve never visited in real life. If you’ve somehow visited every country currently recognized in the world, then I guess you get to go read something set in space.

I’ll be reading: A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon and Kim Sanho, translated by Anton Hur

12. Science Fiction: A genre just as diverse as fantasy, with a little something for everybody! I recommend Becky Chambers’ Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet for those who want to kiss an alien in the stars and Jessamine Chan’s The School for Good Mothers for those who want a surveillance state dystopia that hits much closer to home.

I’ll be reading: Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

13. 2025 Debut Author: Read a book by someone who’s releasing their first book in 2025. Fic or nonfic, any genre, no further requirements. Not quite a free space, but pretty close!

I’ll be reading: Liquid: A Love Story by Mariam Rahmani, coming out March 11

14. Memoir: Per Wikipedia, a memoir is “any nonfiction narrative writing based on the author’s personal memories.” Some are funny, some are heartbreaking, some are both! I recommend Carman Maria Machado’s In the Dream House and Roxane Gay’s Hunger, because I tend to lean heartbreaking!

I’ll be reading: Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. Again, I like heartbreaking!

15. Read a Zine, Make a Zine: Not familiar with zines? No problem! Check out some of these digital archives for inspiration, and then craft your own zine with this simple guide (or do it your own way, I’m not in charge of you).

Internet Archives: https://archive.org/details/zines

Gay Zine Archive Project: https://gittings.qzap.org/

POC Zine Project: https://poczineproject.tumblr.com/

Library of Congress: https://www.loc.gov/collections/zine-web-archive/

16. Essay Collection: Like a short story collection, but it’s nonfiction now. Some of my favorites include Samantha Irby’s We Are Never Meeting in Real Life, Elaine Castillo’s How to Read Now, Aimee Nezhukhumatathil’s World of Wonders, and Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings.

I’ll be reading: A Little Devil in America: In Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

17. 2024 Award Winner: What award? Any award you like! And boy, there are tons to pick from. Any book that won any award in the year 2024 is free game. If you need some places to start looking, check out some of these:

Lambda Literary Awards, for excellence in LGBT literature: https://lambdaliterary.org/awards__trashed/2024-winners/

The Alex Awards, for adult books with crossover appeal for teen readers: https://www.ala.org/yalsa/alex-awards

Ignyte Awards, celebrating diversity in speculative fiction: https://ignyteawards.fiyahlitmag.com/2024-results/

Women's Prize for Fiction (self explanatory) https://womensprize.com/prizes/womens-prize-for-fiction/

Others: https://www.bookbrowse.com/awards/

I’ll be reading: Biography of X by Catherine Lacey, winner of the 2024 Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Fiction

18. Nonfiction: Learn Something New: I know very little about archaeology, anthropology, or any other fields that involve studying ancient cities, but Annalee Newitz’s Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age was some of the most fun I had with nonfiction in 2024, because every page brought a brand new discovery. For 2025, find a nonfiction book about a topic you don’t know ANYTHING about, and learn something new!

I’ll be reading: Cooling the Tropics: Ice, Indigeneity, and Hawaiian Refreshment by Hi’ilei Julia Kawehipuaakahaopulani Hobart

19. Social Justice & Activism: Read a book about a social issue, the history of an activist movement, or brush up on a guiding philosophy or ideology. Arm yourself with knowledge, besties, because I have a feeling we’re going to need it! if you need a good place to start, why not try Angela Davis' Race, Women & Class, Mariame Kaba's We Do This 'Til We Free Us, or Molly Smith and Juno Mac's Revolting Prostitutes?

I’ll be reading: White Feminism: From Suffragettes to Influencers and Who They Leave Behind by Koa Beck

20. Romance Novel: Listen to me. Fucking listen to me. I mean a ROMANCE. NOVEL. Not a novel that incidentally has a romance in it. Romance novel, motherfucker. Go check out the romance section and have some whimsy as two people fall in love through the most contrived series of events ever conceived. If you really need a romance that makes you feel smart (that’s still sexy and messy as hell), try Akwaeke Emezi’s You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty.

I’ll be reading: Go Luck Yourself by Sara Raasche

21. Read and Make a Recipe: Could be a cookbook, could be a recipe you yoinked from the New York Times, could be something your grandparents lovingly wrote down by hand. Could be as complex or as simple as you like, just make something tasty! Some cookbooks I’ve enjoyed are Sohla El-Waylly’s Start Here, Dan Pashman’s Mission Impastable, and John Wang and Storm Garner’s The World Eats Here.

22. Horror: Slashers, zombies, haunted houses, creeping paranoia, you name it! It’s time to get spooky and scary with all kinds of things going bump in the night. Maybe this is the year to finally keep up with Dracula Daily? Not for me, I'm not doing that, but you could!

I’ll be reading: I Was A Teenage Slasher by Stephen Graham Jones

23. Published in the Aughts: A throwback, but not too far back. Read something published between 2000 and 2009. Maybe it’s time to finally get into Twilight? (For legal reasons, that’s a joke.)

I’ll be reading: The Sluts by Dennis Cooper, published in 2004

24. Historical Fiction: You know, fiction that takes place in a bygone era! Please remember, this isn’t just about reading a book that’s old; we have a separate prompt for that! This is about reading something that takes place in the past relative to the time it was written. Pride and Prejudice is historical to us, but was contemporary when Austen wrote it. Think of Brit Bennett's The Vanishing Half, Markus Zusak's The Book Thief, or history + a bit of fantasy in book's like R.F. Kuang's Babel.

I’ll be reading: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Bookseller or Librarian Recommendation: This one is fun, and something I always like to do when I’m travelling and visiting a new bookstore. Ask a bookseller or librarian to recommend something they’ve liked, and check it out! If going in person isn’t feasible, many bookstores and libraries have staff picks on their websites, and the Indie Next List is a monthly list of independent booksellers’ favorite new releases.

I’ll be reading: The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse by Louise Erdrich, which I bought at Erdrich’s bookstore, Birchbark Books, this summer :)

lastly: tagging people who asked to be tagged to make sure they didn't miss this! @thebisexualwreckoning @perfunctoryperfusions @reallyinkyhands come get your bingo sheet!

#bookblr #2025 book bingo

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yomju · 1 month ago

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Fly Me to the Moon

Caleb harbors a secret crush on you. MC supports it. Relationship: Non-mc x Caleb Rating: G Words 4,619 AO3

MC flickers the science documentary off and tosses the control over to you. You nearly separate a limb to press 'Home' on their remote.

"Your aim is terrible today, little miss sharpshooter."

She groans out the last word, scraping for air, stomach to the floor.

"You know my shoulder's been loose for a week."

For good measure, MC rotates her wing span a couple millimeters more than yesterday. As per physician order, 5 sets 3 times a day targets the end of her medical leave for next week.

Until then, MC's crashed at your apartment. Simone and Tara frequent for sleepovers. Tara updates her dutiful subscribers on their latest astrological reading. Simone teases Tara about offering analysis to Liam, on the house.

If anything, Simone's shoulder should be the culprit for how hard Tara pushed her, after a notorious, embarrassed squeal.

They all refer to the event as the Squeakening.

But only half the coven is here. Today, MC enlisted you for annual spring cleaning. Her bribe was sweet. Braised chicken, modern rock swimming through her ceiling sound system, and a quarterly test trial of a new skin routine and trialing insanely expensive scents.

You found yourself deep cleaning MC's floors, knees red and thumbs dry with alcohol. A thumb signals MC's long and arduous wipe-down of her microwave, over.

Peace hummed in your mind. Simone was the first to invite you out for drinks after MC and Caleb hosted a get together. Weekday happy hour became weekends, and they've become strongly bonded since.

"Ah, my friend Skye gifted these to me. New inventory and a trial business venture for one of his clients," MC coughed out.

You sharpened your eyes, trapping MC. "'Mm, the scary guy with those beady red eyes?" A scoff and the force of a pillow blows your face. Okay, maybe MC was healing faster than she let on.

"He's not-! I mean, it's genetic." She extracts another wipe and smudges the shine away, revealing nothing.

"I'm just teasing you. But seriously," you round their kitchen island and roll a tester. "He's got great taste. Tell him thanks. You should invite him Saturday."

You nudge MC, who puffs her cheek before surrendering, a feminine laugh filling her open floor.

She lets out. "I already did."

You bust out laughing, a harsher, sharper sound that tickles MC. As if on cue, MC closes in on you, scans her collection before plucking a tube out and spritzes you.

"This one suits you. I knew when it came out lemon-y on me, the herbal notes would bloom on you."

You take a whiff and smile. It's rather sweet of MC to remember which scents paired well with your skin.

“Oh, it pays off to have a scientific genius as your friend.” MC smacks you unforgivingly, yet you feel the love.

In return, you fish out a trial tube from your bag.

"I got a hold of this perfume. It's warm like honey, got a kick to it. Smelled like ass sweat and leather on me." You brush MC's hair aside and sprays her neck.

Like a chef, you waft the scent in.

Delicious.

"Mmm, this is a new look on you." MC sniffs and hums pleasantly.

"I smell like roses-"

"Skye would love this on you-"

Another smack across your arm, this time less lovingly but more force. Luckily, just a plastic spoon that could do little to no damage.

"Are you double dipping jokes? Tsk tsk."

You surrender.

"Alright I'll retire for the night. Losing my game, clearly-"

"What game?"

A manly, boyish voice cuts through the air, sending tingles to your back, slowing down time. Only does the click of your locked door set everything into motion again.

"Caleb!" MC exclaims, rushing him over to their island. "You're early, come over here and do a smell test with us."

"Hey, pips. Hey." Caleb is making his way over, large frame near intimidating saved only by his gentle eyes and casual expression. His eyes land on you. You casually smile back.

"We got new inventory," you recover. Only MC knows your nervous habit of reusing phrases when your brain stops. You can't think fast enough.

"Let me see," Caleb counters gravity with his hip on the island, slotting himself between.

He sniffs the air once and questions, "Are you guys already wearing them?"

"Yeah, any you like?" MC responds, suspiciously fast.

You fiddle with the scents, making it top priority to find another tester for MC. "Seems like a timeless collection this round. I think we might have a keeper here."

MC hums and rounds the island to dig for some snacks underneath. "Yeah, I really like the one you tested on me."

She winks and you receive it with suspicion. Meanwhile, Caleb rounds the kitchen island towards you in, what feels like slow-motion. Your palms start sweating, and you internally push down the buoy of hope leaping between your chest and throat.

Your acquaintance formed with Caleb first during college. He was a class-favorite, friendly, extroverted, funny when it counted, and held strong marks. You were competitive, thrived in your own smaller circle, a bit forthright with your speak, and were the only one to keep coming second to Caleb. It ticked you off, which, you suspected, contributed to Simone's initial attraction towards you. They bonded over their initial dislike.

MC was the first to soften them up, meanwhile Tara loved stirring chaos and setting their process back to square zero. Tara's evil snickers ironed itself as your ringtone.

You alternated between your friend's laughs for ringtones.

It was Tara's laugh that perked Caleb's ears one day, during their physical training session. It was MC's laugh that made Caleb's do a double-take after class. His eyes tracked down the stranger, caught the fairy-like twinkle of MC's laughter, followed by the airy response of yours, who he later learned was his self-proclaimed rival.

That weekend, Caleb invited himself to their get together.

That weekend, you noticed sides to your rival that were jarringly out-of-character, at least compared to his student-body face.

Sometimes, Caleb had a faraway look, opting to fade into the background with Gideon and Patrick at the social forefront. Sometimes, he looked like he stirred and argued with himself, eyebrows deeply set into a mean look. Only a shoulder pat or friendly poke in the head from MC would shake him out of his daze.

You never broached the subject or found an appropriate opportunity to. Despite all the casual encounters after, where Caleb would spot your form and give you pointers. In turn, you would answer his out-of-pocket questions about life, death, that slowly bled into curt humor, recent political ongoings within the fleet and in the world, to mundane tv shows, and questions about the woman's perspective. Simone busted out laughing that over their weekend brunch. MC conspired and Tara frantically pulled two more tarot cards.

It part, you felt like a conversational practice partner. You seldomly stuck around when Gideon and Patrick came along, outside one bar hangout when Caleb went non-verbal. You had bloomed into a social butterfly on command to cover for his dead battery. Gideon caught on and gave you a raised eyebrow of approval.

That night, MC and her gals swung by, sweeping you off your feet into their own corner. To say their venn diagram of friends overlapped by just a tail explained their fragmented friendship.

Caleb was weird for sure, and a mystery that you needed to stay away from.

A mystery that was leaning in towards you at a dangerously slow pace. A glacier that was impossible for any human to stop.

Caleb's amethyst eyes felt like fire, a cosmos set fiery and ablaze. Impending doom. Apocalypse. You stood your ground, more-so frozen than brazen.

In a bizarre twist, he closes his eyes and breathes in, pausing after registering your gentle repellence.

MC peeks from the island counter edge. Internally, she reminds herself to text the groupchat without you.

"Caleb?" You bring him out of his... trance. "This is... the Eus de la Nuit. It's herbal for sure, maybe a bit medicinal."

He opens his eyes and looks heavily into yours. "You smell amazing."

You freeze. Your emergency reflexes flip on, and you spray him like misbehaving dog. "Try it, then."

Caleb coughs. He takes a moment to pblt the fragrance from his tongue and shakes his head. "It smells better than it tastes for sure."

"If you were further-"

"Okay!" MC claps her hands. "Snacks acquired."

Caleb remains where he is but turns his head. He nods at MC and smiles approvingly. MC nudges her head towards you. They communicate telepathically, and you pretend not to notice, treat it as water under the bridge.

The night carries on. Everyone comes over and they celebrate Patrick's promotion.

You recover. Simone and Andrew talk about their potential engagement. Tara announces her crush on a mysterious guy she met at another party.

Caleb finds himself leaning against you infrequently.

You gnaw at your nails, suddenly insecure seeing MC nurse her phone. You flash a glance at Caleb, only to see him gazing back at you. You smile politely. Caleb chuckles, dropping his head.

You look away.

Weird. Deep down you've had a feeling that MC and Caleb were childhood sweethearts. Hence, you've kept your distance like the plague.

It's the common conclusion anyone could come to, listening to their stories growing up. Road trips, studying overnight, spending summers together at the park, the fair, the carnival. Incredulously enough, you heard rumors (courtesy of Gideon) that they pretended to date, to scare off some suitors.

You immerse yourself in badgering Tara about her side hustle. Her profits are on the upward trend. She's changing up her content, testing different introductions and inflections of her storytelling. You check out her newest video, bookmarking and reposting immediately.

MC comes over suddenly and tugs your arm. "Tara, are you staying for this?"

"Of course," Tara agrees, clueless but eager.

"Staying for what?" You ask. Tara respond before you can toss a wild guess out.

“The main course.” She replies, conspiratorially.

"Yeah. Caleb's going to make a move on you." MC bumps shoulders with you. "Are you okay with that?"

You cough. You recover. You gape at them silently.

Tara giggles and gets comfy for the show unfolding before her.

Clearly there's information you're unaware of. You spend some time gathering yourself. Fiddling with the counter top only reveals so much. You gather up the wits to address the elephant in the room, looking MC directly in the eye.

"Well, are you okay with that? I know you two are, um."

You gulp, the next word coming out like mud. “Close.”

"Isn't this heavily against girl code?"

MC laughs and leans her head of your shoulder, her speed taking you by surprise. “Everyone thinks that. Tara did at first too. Simone saw through it. I'm sure you have too.”

You shake your head. “Probably, but it was easier to keep the mental guardrails up. You're breaking my mind right now.”

“Denial.” Tara helpfully offers.

“Definitely,” you wave your white flag.

MC shakes her head and continues. "No, we just grew up together. I hate this part, don't get sad but," and MC looks up at you with her big, doe eyes.

They're beautiful, you're not sure how Caleb doesn't get distracted, or anyone else for that matter. Light and innocence emit effortlessly from her gaze. "We only had each other growing up. Caleb's really hard on himself for being the more responsible one. He's only a year or two older but being an orphan ages you. It gets scary thinking about being really, really alone, you know?"

You gulp and soothe MC's back. While Caleb's the main topic, you assume MC must have carried her own weight, both born of her own and residual. MC nuzzles into your shoulder more, humming happily.

"You should get to know him more."

Tara sips on her cocktail, courtesy of Gideon's experiments. She leans her head on your shoulder too.

You hum and nod. "Thank you for telling me that. You didn't have to."

MC pokes your cheek. "I wanted to."

"Yeah, you tend to keep your distance. If I were a guy," Tara offers, plucking out a strawberry and feeding herself, "I'd think you didn't like me."

You sweat. Tara smiles sweet as the devil.

The new information swirls inside your stomach, making you nauseous. A part of you is still in disbelief. Out of poorly hidden curiosity, you decide to dig for more information.

It's a bizarre feeling but a lack of insecurity floods your head. "I had questions, but I don't think they're important now." Also known as, I trust you, I believe you. Their past has nothing to do with you. Only now, and the future matters.

"That's what makes you, you. I'm so glad I met you." A slight slur escapes MC's voice and you laugh. "You can always ashk... though..."

"You're getting drunk. And Tara, you've been drunk."

“I carry it well,” Tara giggles and you lean on Tara's shoulder. The 3 of you all lean off the stool.

"MC just wishes Skye would text her back." Tara teases.

"Duh, captain obvious." MC retorts. You gape at her blatant honestly. You look down.

"Where is he? You don't invite him. None of us have his info."

MC hums and checks her phone.

"He swaps our burner phones often. I do have his number though. I just feel bad for bothering him." The pout is evident in her voice.

"Your counsel cannot make a judgement until sufficient evidence is present."

"Does that mean you don't have enough information, or that he doesn't feel bad?"

"... Both," Tara rationalizes, trying her best to carry this consolation parade.

“He has your number, he's probably waiting like a gentleman.” Tara reasons.

"He doesn't seem the double text type." You add.

MC groans, "I just! I've been waiting to find the right moment."

"Don't lose him if he plays a different game," Tara warns.

"Yeah, you're right." MC whips out her phone and presses call. You help her stand up and pat her waist as she leaves.

"You sure know how to mobilize people." You direct towards Tara. "So about that brand deal, still need someone to proofread the email?"

Tara smiles, "I'll text you. Just relax tonight. I'm gonna go congratulate Patrick, officially."

"Okay, I'll come with-"

"No," Tara anchors you down by the shoulder. "Stay here, you already said hi. Nurse my drink."

You could overwhelm her. Physically, you are taller. Presence wise, Tara delivers sweet menace like no other. Tara abandons you with a drink in each hand.

You set down their near overflowing cups and wash your hands.

Quietly, you notice a warm presence by your side. It's intimidating.

"Drinking for two on a weekday's a new look." The voice observes, soft yet crisp. When you turn to acknowledge him, Caleb's already looking at you. The act stirs unfamiliar heat and nausea in your stomach.

You dryly joke. "These are my actual colors. I couldn't hide it from you any longer."

He weighs on your reply and looks down the marble counter. Chatter and laughter buzz around them. A smile slips onto his face.

"You don't need to hide from me," he slides a non-alcoholic drink over. "But I can bug you about staying hydrated."

You suck your breath. Clearly you've believed misconceptions about several people close to you. Maybe, you consider, you'll take the leap and open your mind to Caleb. Your rival, turned acquaintance, turned friend-of-a-friend who's continued to linger around that league. You begin undoing the wire fence built to withstand all surprises, trump any expectations that could shatter your heart, and your friendships.

You turn to him, and God, he's still looking at you with an unfairly charming, peaceful glint in his eye. Did you always feel this safe in his proximity?

You take MC's advice literally, even if would-you-rather is a kitchsy attempt.

"If you had to choose between $50,000 a year guaranteed, no need to work, or $500,000 a year doing something you hate, which would you choose?" You sip his water, grab both drinks, and motion him over to the balcony. The kitchen island is too high traffic for any undisturbed, prolonged conversation.

Caleb obeys quietly, never letting their distance grow further than 4 feet behind. Your dark, cool hair shines with a luster that compliments the star-sprinkled moon-lit night sky. He leans against the screen, relishing in the cool glass against his flushed skin.

You're beautiful.

He hums to cover his thoughts, stalling to drink in your gaze. "I'm already doing the latter," and you choke, "It's not too bad."

A swallow. "Okay let's flip it, what would you do if you had 4 more hours in the day? Same pay, just more time."

"What roundabout way to ask about someone's hobbies," He smirks.

"Passions, whims," you correct.

Caleb tilts his head and brings a thoughtful finger to his chin. "My passion is tinkering, and flying. I've built model planes since we were kids. Overseeing the fleet..." The faraway look creeps into his gaze again before you can stop it. "Checks some of those boxes."

He pulls out his phone, a quick tap into his photos, another expands it, and he swings it over to you. "The thrill of flying still keeps me going. The community is the other. Out of everyone around me, the mechanics took me under their wing." All that to say, "I'd build planes with them."

"Not for the fleet," you clarify, taking in the group selfie of Caleb and four other men, oil smudged and sweaty, with a unique single flyer model behind them.

"Definitely not the fleet." Caleb smiles.

You whistle, zooming in to the model behind them. You've already memorized Caleb's sweaty yet boyish mug and CK-esque build, sporting that white tank. Play it cool.

Caleb doesn't react, his gaze on your profile as you analyze the near pixelated jet from how much you've zoomed in.

"Tell me more about this, what makes it special?" You zoom back out and return his phone. Your fingers touch. Caleb waits for you to let go.

"You really wanna hear?" He tucks his phone back.

"Of course."

Your tone is earnest, and Caleb loves the way you sound. You make him feel warm.

"Well, the engine carries different fuel. Slower burning with standard wing geometry to reduce drag. The thrusters can change airflow paths mid-flight, optimizing the cruise and giving you this gentle takeoff. We're tweaking those variables right now to make it feel like you're floating on clouds, essentially."

You whistle. “And here I was, expecting to hear about a better, faster, bigger plane.”

“Sounds like you care about the ergonomics of it all. That's kinda refreshing,”

"Yeah, we care more about the feeling of flying. Not if you can fly better, or faster, or sharper. Those maneuvers are mainly for combat. I want flying to feel how I imagined as a kid."

"That's rather sweet." You leave no room for interpretation. "So you're a car guy, essentially."

Caleb laughs, "Yeah, call me if you need any fixing." He pauses, a light bulb flickering and you find it adorable that you're able to read his mind for once. You chuckle as the question slips out, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

"Do I have your number?"

You shake your head. "No, you don't." Your heart thumps, but you smile.

"Hand it to me," he does a mini come hither with all four fingers. "Just in case a real emergency comes along, too, you know?"

You give him a suspicious look but all too willingly comply. He's rather blunt. You prefer it that way.

"Alright," you say. "Expect suuuper late night messages, my stuff tends to break at inconvenient hours. I'll be sending you inane questions and annoying quizzes."

"That's perfect," Caleb accepts endearingly. He moves on too fast for you. "You asked me such a revealing question. I can't be the only one dropping defenses."

"When's a time you've been mad? What happened, what did you do?"

You twirl the ice in your drink and decide for honesty. No airs to make you look better, no overbearing ugliness.

"Something I had control over?"

Caleb pauses and leaves the ball in your court. "Your choice."

You take a sip and nod seriously. "I held resentment towards my mom for our situation. We don't see eye to eye, but years later I realized she was working with limited resources. So I cleaned my act up, got myself sorted, and I'm working on her situation too." You realized it might be insensitive, but it coming from a deep crevice of your mind outweighed any tact. The thought came impulsively.

"The light at the end of the tunnel is that I got to learn another language more fluently. So if you ever need a travel companion to the West, feel free to call on my service." You try to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Glad I have your number then," Caleb laughs.

He smooths a thumb over the counter. "This sounds like it happened a long time ago, for a long while."

"Yeah, I was a toooootal brickhead. College helped blow a lot of that steam out."

“I remember your name under mine. You always tried to crack my class rank.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“You're like, twice my size!”

“Remember, that mindset keeps you second.” He teases, and you smack his arm.

You crack a smile and both laugh. Caleb pushes some water towards you before resuming.

“Everyone reacts when they feel cornered. I'm glad you're both out of that, or almost.”

You take his offer.

"Thank you Caleb, I appreciate it."

The night air billows. When you turn, he looks at you. You notice the near automatic reaction, as if his senses covered a wider field of vision. Little do you know, Caleb's paid more attention than he'd admit to you, since your rivalry was announced to him.

With another gust, his necklace's reflective glint captures your peripheral.

"I wanna know the lore behind your necklace." You gesture with your chin. The water is calm, but you're wading through on your tip toes.

He follows your direction and smooths over the pendant thoughtfully. The pendant drops as he looks at you again.

"I'm surprised MC didn't tell you."

You smile, hiding your anxiety. Despite your earlier conversation with MC, you don't know what Caleb will say.

"She gifted it when I left for academy. I wear it because... I guess... it's the first keepsake from my family."

You nod understandingly. "I would treat a family gift like treasure, too."

"Right. It means more because she's the only family I have."

Caleb breathes a little. You know because his chest rises and falls a little deeper than usual.

"Yeah, I understand. It looks like you take good care of it. Spotless, great work." You smile at him, and he smiles back.

"I do keep it in solution sometimes. Being careful and layering it under the uniform is enough to keep it in good condition."

"Hmmm... that's quite an image, for sure." You can't help but let a comment slip. One drop of desperation slips out, like new sweat.

His ears perk, his shoulders perk, and a light shines in his eyes. Caleb lets out a soft laugh and relaxes again. This time, his shoulder looks softer, more relaxed. You can only wonder what's going on in his head.

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just... have eyes." You try again. "I appreciate hard work!"

He smiles this time.

"Don't be sorry, hearing you say that makes my day. Night, rather."

You let his words sink in for the first time, instead of batting them away for some other, more mundane interpretation.

"Really?" And your voice comes out, quiet.

"Really," Caleb says softly.

Another breeze sweeps you both, this time framing Caleb's face in a different light. You gulp, suddenly wanting to fix your hair, your clothes, your nails, your everything.

So you do, a newly discovered nervous tick. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smooth out your shorts.

Caleb shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours. He doesn’t say anything—just sits there, close enough that you feel the warmth of his skin against your side.

You keep your eyes fixed on the skyline, pretending it’s the only thing you’re focused on. But your heart’s already betrayed you, thudding in your chest a little louder than you’d like.

“You’re quiet now,” he says, voice low.

“Just thinking,” you answer. It’s easier than the truth.

He tilts his head, studying you like he doesn’t fully believe you—but he’s not going to press. Not yet.

The silence between you stretches, but it isn’t awkward. It’s full, gentle.

You run your thumb along the rim of the sliding door, tracing the edge slowly.

"So I've... been promoted from stranger to rival, to... friend?" You suck in your breath.

He exhales—part laugh, part breath, part something heavier.

Caleb leans back against the windowsill. "If you're okay with that definition. We can revise and edit later on."

You're at a party. MC, Tara, Simone, Gideon, any one of them could show up at any moment. You bite your lip and concede by nodding.

"Edit and revise sounds fine with me, Mr. Co-Author."

"One thing." Caleb steps over without notice, heat immediately hugging your body and face.

"Hm-" Is all you get to muster before you feel soft petals, slightly dry lips on your cheek. A quick peck that lasts forever.

When Caleb pulls back, you find yourself gravitating towards his orbit. Drawn in by those violet eyes that emit warmth from his stormy vortex.

"Just making an edit. Was that too much?" Caleb clears his through and reassumes their previous stance.

You react, cat-like, before he can slip through your grasp.

"No, not at all. Co-signed. Approved." You huff.

"Amazing." His eyes never leave you.

You know the ball is in your court.

"Now I don't want to go back in there. You've trapped me."

"I'm not sure who trapped who first. Buuut, we could leave and grab ... some food? Did you eat?"

Caleb takes charge of your pace, leaving no room for you to comment. "Not yet, have you tried the old dumpling joint nearby? Beer won't break your bank."

"No," Caleb smiles, "Take me."

"Okay," you smile. "MC told me you're a great cook by the way."

"I'd love to leave you a professional, totally anonymous review that totally won't make its way to the Chef."

"If you live up to your word, I'll show you a restaurant I'm actually banned from."

"There's no way you say that and not tell me the story behind it."

Caleb holds the screen door open for you, motioning for you to depart first. You smile at him and walk through. His gaze never leaves your frame.

You find his staring habit adorable. You hope that his gaze won't stop following you for a long time.

Caleb closes the screen door behind him. MC is nowhere to be found, Simone and Tara spot you two immediately, sending you goodnight kisses and goodbye imitations of the royal family.

Gideon and Patrick spot Caleb herding you out. They send him a knowing look, Gideon grinning, before returning to their current conversation. Patrick shoots the group chat a message. Caleb feels the buzz in his front pocket, filing their clownery away for later.

"We have all the time in the universe."

#non mc x caleb #reader x caleb #caleb x you #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #lnds caleb #xia yizhou

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

butterflygirl738 (6)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"It was a nice day," S says as he checks the rear view mirror.

You twitch out of your trance. Your eyes are itchy, the way they get after a double shift. You suppress a yawn and nod.

"Very nice, thank you," you agree and twiddle your fingers in your palm.

"But you're anxious to get home..." he says.

"Well....my mom..." you begin. "I'm not trying to ditch you--"

"Ha, I know. I'm selfish. I've had you all day." He keeps his eyes on the road. "Should we stop and get her something?"

"Um, that's. Mm. I'd love to but..."

"Might be suspicious. Got it." He clucks. "Well, what about tomorrow? You got plans?"

"She has an appointment," you say. "Check-up."

"Ah, makes sense," he says. "When is it? Maybe after..."

"Yeah, er maybe. But... how long are you here? What about New York?" You wonder. The big city, his company, all that is still a mystery to you.

"It can wait. Besides, the hotel has wifi. I got all night to catch up emails."

"Oh, right." You stare at the street ahead.

"Tomorrow?" He prompts before the silence drags.

"Tomorrow. After noon? Should be done by then," you assure him, twisting your fist around your finger.

"Can I ask you a favour?" He slows as he gets to your street.

"A favour?"

"Yeah. Nothing big. Promise." He turns the corner and keeps a snail's pace.

"Alright," you utter.

"Will you bring a few bills tomorrow? We can go through them. Sort that out--"

"S. No. I can't--"

"But that's the deal," he insists. "How can I help if I don't know the situation?"

"I... I don't know. It's a lot."

"A lot you shouldn't be worried about. You should be focused on your mom. Not money." He stops in front of your building. He angles in his seat and puts his hand on the back of yours. "This is what I'm here for. To take all that off your shoulders."

You exhale and swallow dryly. "It feels like too much."

"Not to me." His thumb rubs the seat, close to your shoulder. "Look, I'm just me. I got more than enough for that. I want to do this. I want someone to share this with. To spoil, if I can."

You look at him. He's too good to be true. After all the bad days, all the set backs, all the red numbers, you just can't believe it's what he says it it.

"I'll bring one," you offer.

"One?" He echoes.

"Mhmm," you nod.

"The highest one then," he says. His tone is even but demanding.

"Okay."

"Okay," he repeats and clears his throat. "Look, sweetheart, let's not ruin the day. Go inside, spend some time with mom. I'll text you."

You chew your lip. You should tell him. It won't help if he thinks you're ignoring him.

"Maybe not." You fidget. "I'm... I'm almost out of... I uh, the internet is down and I pay per message."

"Hm, why didn't you mention it before?" He challenges.

You sink down, pushing your shoulders high. "It's embarrassing."

He sighs.

"No problem. Tomorrow. After noon," he pats the seat and rescinds his hand. "Hope the appointment goes well."

"Me too," you murmur in dread.

You undo your seat belt and grab your purse. You sit up and glance at him. He watches you expectantly but you're not sure what he's waiting for.

"Good night," you say.

His jaw ticks, "good night, sweetheart."

You smile weakly and get out. You shut the door gently and turn to step over the curb. You march up to the front doors and peek back. You wave then go inside.

You feel bad now. Like you're abandoning him. After such a nice day, you're just strutting off without giving him anything...

Your chest knots up as you climb the stairs. It isn't just him, it's the lies. You're not sure you can keep this up but if you don't, what are you going to do? You can't pay him back and the missed hours at work won't do much to help that. And if you keep calling in, well, you might not have time to make up for what you missed.

You're confused. This was supposed to make it all easier but it all feels so much more complicated. Why can't life be as simple as the chrysalis in the hamper?

🦋

"Will you come in with me?" Your mom asks as they call her name.

You nod and stand with her. It's not like the early days. When she went on her own. She didn't tell you the diagnoses right away. Not until the first treatment. That was a horrible day and there's been many of those since.

You follow the nurse to the sterile room. You sit in the chair in the corner and your mother sits in the chair by the small counter top. You're silent. Both anxious.

Dr. Vincent enters. You almost feel like you should stand. You cross your legs and return his greeting. It's not a very good morning but you won't say so.

"So, Noreen," he says to your mother. "I have some news."

Your mother looks at him from her chair. She looks small like a child. You've never seen her afraid but in that moment, you see her eyes gleam.

"You're a candidate for stem cell transplant." He says.

Your mom looks at you and back to him. You don't know what that means either. You remember they mentioned it early on but it never came back up.

"No more chemo. At least for now. We think this is the opportune time and it could help with recovery in the long run," he explains.

"Oh, right," she breathes.

"We'll send you for a few scans to see how things are looking but your last images were positive."

"Uh huh, okay," she blinks. "Is it very expensive?"

He hums. "It can be. Depending on insurance. Of course, it would be my recommendation for you to go with it. Chemo is showing results but in my experience, this is the best course of action. If you wish to continue as you are, it's entirely within your discretion."

You're both quiet.

"I'll provide you some information on it before you go. How about that? Give you some time to think." He says.

"That's good," you say as your mom stays silent.

"Alright, then, we'll do the usual," Vincent diverts. "Let's get you on the bed."

You sit patiently as he checks your mother over. He's quick and efficient. He has a full waiting room, even this early in the morning. You thank him after your mother does and he leaves the room.

She steps onto the stool and down to the floor. As you approach her, she sighs. She doesn't say anything as she leads you out of the room.

As she stops at the admin desk to get the folder of pamphlets, she bids them a good day. As you come out into the gloomy of the rainy day, you take her hand. She stops and stands at the curb, looking out into the distance.

"I'm tired, pie."

"I know, mom," you say.

"What do you think?" She asks.

"I don't know. Maybe... we should read the stuff."

"It'll be expensive."

"It's all expensive," you mutter.

She drops her head. "My last days and I have to watch my daughter work herself half to death just to suffer more and more."

"Mom, please, he said things are looking good--"

"Maybe but I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

You swallow as your eyes burn. "It's... it's your choice. Always your choice." You look away, trying not to cry.

"Honey," she squeezes your hand. "I don't want to give up. I know you won't, either, but you're tired too. It hurts me to see you like this."

"Mom," is all you can eke out.

She lets go of you and looks at the folder. She exhales. "I'll read it over."

"We'll read it together," you offer.

"When's work?" She wonders.

"Noon," you answer. Not work, per se. Just an obligation.

"Enough time for breakfast," she says. "My treat."

"Mom," you say.

"I know, I know. But I just want one last cinnamon bun before I go," she insists.

🦋

You're trembling. You haven't been able to stop since you left the apartment. You couldn't let your mom see the panic. She's already having a rough day.

You stand under the awning of the building, waiting. S drives up and you run out without pulling up your jacket hood. You feel in your pocket for the pamphlet.

You get in the car and flick the moisture from your cheeks. You gasp. "It's really coming down."

"You don't have an umbrella?" S says.

"Forgot," you shrug.

"Mm, well, looks like a day best spent inside. I was thinking, they got pretty good food at my hotel. We could have lunch."

You hesitate. The thought of his hotel room makes your stomach stir. You remember what he said. 'We'll see where it goes'. It's feeling more and more like there's only one way this goes.

"Sure, whatever you like." You sniff.

You buckle up and sit back. You tilt your head up.

"Long morning?" He asks as he pulls into the street.

"Yeah... a little."

"Bad news?" He asks cautiously.

"Mm, news... stuff to think about."

"Right," he steers on as the wipers swing back and forth. "Well, just relax. Once we get to the hotel, you can get dry and clear your head."

"Yeah. Thanks."

You close your eyes, content to let the rain and the motion soothe you. It's a moment to prepare yourself.. Maybe once you tell him, he'll change his mind.

When the car stops, you snap up as if you were sleeping. Your mind slows as the world does the same. S smiles at you and reaches behind your seat. He grabs an umbrella out of the back.

He gets out, shielding himself from the downpour, and comes around to open your door. He walks you up to the hotel doors and folds up the umbrella before he enters the lobby. He points you to the elevators.

"Got some work done this morning," he proclaims as you get on. "You were asking about my company."

"Oh, right. I was. Curious, I guess. I don't know anyone who owns one."

"You do now," he chuckles. "It's not as glamourous as it seems. This is as much time as I've had to myself in... a decade?"

"Really?"

"Not to complain. I mean, certain things I don't have to worry about. It's not a bad life. Solitary," he shrugs and the doors open.

He guides you along the hallway to his suite door. He lets you in ahead of him. He puts the umbrella in the tall vase by the door.

You unzip your jacket and hang it. You look down at your jeans. They're soaked. You rub the damp fabric.

"I got a spare robe in here, if you want to let those dry," he says.

"Sure, uh, probably," you agree.

He takes off his shoes and you step out of your boots. You linger by the door, shyly glancing into the suite. He stands up and combs his fingers through his hair.

"I'll get the room service menu," he grins and struts away. "Make yourself at home."

As he looks around, you reach into your jacket pocket. You hide the pamphlet behind your back, clasping your wrist tight, and tiptoe further inside. He waves the laminated menu at you.

"Right here," he puts it on the small round table between two chairs. "I'll get that robe."

"Sure."

You wait, reluctant at the edge of the sitting room. A couch and a clamshell chair in velvet. It's all so nice.

He comes back in.

"If you want to change before you make up your mind--"

"Uh huh, yeah."

You keep the pamphlet behind you and take the robe. He points you to the bathroom and you scurry into it. You lock yourself inside and strip off the wet jeans. The texture leaves your skin itchy. Ugh.

You hang them on the bar meant for towels and pull on the robe. It's soft and roomy. You tuck the pamphlet into the pocket and face the door.

You emerge as S sits at the table. You walk carefully, paranoid that the robe might fall open despite the tight knot around the middle. You sit down and lean over to read the menu. It's a good distraction.

"I recommend the mac and cheese, as simple as it sounds," he taps with his finger.

"Oh, I like mac and cheese," you say.

You continue your perusal. You'll probably just go with what he says. Your appetite is lost in the storm of your inside.

"So, uh, did you bring that bill?"

You sit up stiffly and blink at him. Your hand goes to the pocket of the robe. You gape at him. How do you do this?

"We can wait--"

"No, I can't. Not-- no. Because..." you stammer as your heart races. "Because it's... it's too much and... you can say no and... I'll be okay. My mom will be okay. I'll figure it out. I will."

"Woah, woah, sweetheart," he gets up and comes around the table. He gets down to his knees as he puts his hands on your arms, his thumbs caressing you. "It's alright. I asked you to--"

"No, no," you jitter as you reach in the pocket and slide out the pamphlet, slightly damp from the rain. "It's... it's more... it's..." you look down at the paper as you clutch it in your hands. "The doctor said it will be good but..."

He drags his hands down your arms to your hands. He eases the pamphlet free. He sits back on his heels and opens it. He reads it over as you cover your face.

"I think I should go--"

"I can do it," he says calmly. "One hundred? Easy."

"One hundred thousand!" You drop your hands. "S!"

"It's just money. This isn't about that. It's about your mom, isn't it?"

You stare at him. You don't understand how he can be so generous. It's just take, take, take, and you have nothing to give. And the more he gives, the more you depend on it. The hole only gets deeper and deeper.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #butterflygirl738 #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #marvel #mcu #captain america #avengers

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uncannyextraterrestrial · 4 days ago

Text

Imagine SnowAppleMC but Zayne's coworkers don't know!

Caleb is a little freak but no smut.

(This contains gay stuff so if ur homophobic get the FUCK off my blog <3)

They only know Mc as Zayne's very accident prone girlfriend. Frequently showing up in the hospital, sustaining injuries when saving upstanding Linkon citizens from wanderers yes but also twisting your ankle while petting a dog.

"Stop being so reckless." He'd scold with no real bite to his words, pressing his forehead against yours. One hand cupping your chin and the other applying evol ice to your knee.

"Teeheehee." You both turned to find Grayson peaking through the door while giggling childishly. One look with his sharp green eyes sent the fellow doctor running for the hills.

"So nosy." You laughed. Part of you was annoyed that your romantic moment was ruined but the pouty look on Zayne's face made you want to laugh. He knew damn well Grayson was gonna make sure the whole of Asko hospital knew, that damn gossip.

Now imagine months later, MC is out of town on a mission and Caleb has finally returned from a week long mission.

"Caleb calm down! We are in public!" Yvonne peaked her head around the corner curiously.

"It's literally been years! I miss you!" His hands intertwined with Zayne's scarred ones.

"It's only been a week, you're so dramatic." Zayne's voice hitched as Caleb slipped his warm hand underneath his coat and presses to many kisses to his face. "Stop it!" With a stern tone and a hand to the forehead, Zayne peeled the colonel of him.

"But..." He stared into those purple puppy eyes, reminding the doctor of a soggy wet cat. He rubbed his own temples.

"My shift will be over in an hour, can you wait?" Caleb dramatically sighed like being patient might actually kill him but nonetheless stood up straight.

"I'll go home. Maybe i'll prep dinner like a good little househusband." Zayne facepalmed as his dramatic boyfriend kicked a rock and walked out, what nobody saw was the soft smile creeping up his sharp features. He loved that horny himbo.

"Oh my god..." Yvonne gasped and quickly covered her mouth. Her eyes narrowed at her coworker. She had alot of respect for Zayne but cheating?! Really?! Mc had been texting her about updates with Zayne so she knew they were still together.

The guilt knawed away at her. She should've taken a picture so she had evidence. What if MC didn't believe her? Or even worse, stopped being her friend! No, she's a girl's girl so she needs to do this.

Zayne is very confused when he comes into work the next day. His normally friendly fellow doctors are glaring at him like he was the devil. He wondered if he did something wrong. He couldn't remember offending them recently!

After finally returning from that brutal mission, Mc was looking forward to a hibernation that would put most bears to shame. Her only half awake brain was nearly broken when Yvonne tackled her in the airport.

"Zayne's cheating on you!" She shouted, drawing eyes all throughout the crowded terminal.

"Huh?" Your eyes nearly shot out of your head like rockets. She watched you slowly calm down and smile in realization. "Oh wait, was it a super tall brunette guy with purple eyes?"

"Yeah?" She answered hesitantly. "Is he like Zayne's best friend or something?"

"No Yvonne!" You laughed uproarously. "He's our boyfriend. Me, Zayne, and Caleb are in a polyamorous relationship!"

"WHAT?!" She yelled again, gaining more dirty looks from airport patrons. "Are you kidding me?! I spent like a week stressing and hating Zayne for nothing!"

You doubled over in laughter yet again. Yes, you felt bad for Yvonne's internal struggle but this cosmically unlikely situation was just far too funny.

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sejianismodding · 1 year ago

Text

🎁 [BG+] My Little Animations Overrides! 🤸🏽‍♀️

☠️ REMINDER: Double-check the OP for updates!

⚔️ Requires the content pack listed in the .PACKAGE filename.

🌠 New Arrivals - 8/12/2024

🚀 Initial Release - 8/5/2024

🎁 Download & Discussions: https://www.patreon.com/posts/116205160

🤸🏽‍♀️ My Animation Overrides Collection: https://www.patreon.com/collection/884903?view=condensed

🗺️ Modding Announcements Post: https://www.patreon.com/posts/109291501

👋🏼 FYI, I take requests. If you've encountered an animation you want replaced, send me a screenshot and a short description of it and/or how to trigger it. GIFs are appreciated but not required.

🪄 Some animations just look... bad. There are a few solutions for this but I've chosen the simplest and most versatile - animation overrides! <insert magicky hand gestures here> Are you amazed? Yes, yes you are.

👽 This is an AnimXGenWear-adjacent project that was initially released to replace two standing idles that suffer from the smile shown below when the sky is awake and the mood is Fine because holy !@#$, does it look bad.

💬 You can thank @serawis for this releasing when it did. It wasn't a priority for me at the time. I had a scroll through a few of your Tumblrs following the positive response I got for the Deformer Map BUGFIX and I encountered the above post, inquired if it was still desired, et voila - a mod is born! I'll do more eventually, probably. I could literally replace everything with the cute Lovebug animation and have everyone just doing hand hearts for eternity <snickers sinisterly> but alas, maybe for my own game only.

🎀 These little animation overrides are 100% compatible with by big animation state mod - AnimXGenWear: https://sejianismodding.tumblr.com/post/757704895457525760

🤸🏽‍♀️ "KEEP READING" FOR PREVIEWS!

🎁 8/5/2024 - Two Female Stand Idles

LEFT replaced with RIGHT. I try to find animations that already exist in-game that match what the original does.

sej_AnimOvrd_BG_YF_HandFidgetSmile_Idle01.package

sej_AnimOvrd_BG_YF_LookLeft_Idle02.package

These are inside sej_AnimOvrd_!Set001_2ForBG_240805.zip.

---

🎁 8/12/2024 - Fem/Masc Attempt To Seduce

LEFT is the masculine animation on a female sim, RIGHT is the feminine animation on a male sim.

sej_AnimOvrd_BG_YF_AttemptToSeduce_M.package replaces the female animation with the male animation for female sims.

sej_AnimOvrd_BG_YM_AttemptToSeduce_F.package replaces the male animation with the female animation for male sims.

Separate downloads so you can grab one or the other or both.

---

Face Overlays get slapped onto your face when your mood changes. We can remove or replace any of them that we don't like. Removing them completely without replacing requires an ASM override, which I can do and IIRC, SIMS4ME did one as well and I saw a post here on Tumblr from another creator with an ASM override. I'm personally fine with most of the face overlays, I just don't like the weird Happy smiles, and removing absolutely all of them I think makes the sim too "life-less" but I can make an ASM override or provide links to the others I've seen if you want.

🎁 8/12/2024 - Happy Face Overlay

NO PREVIEW FOR THIS ONE YET!

sej_AnimOvrd_BG_YU_HappyFace_ConfidentFace.package replaces the Happy & Flirty mood "face overlay" with the Confident overlay. Happy & Flirty moods use the same overlay with the same fugly grin. Confident gives you get a cheeky raised eyebrow instead. Is fine.

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 mods #ts4 animations #ts4 overrides #sims 4 #sims 4 animations #sims 4 overrides #sejianismodding #sejian

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bossbtch1 · 2 years ago

Text

Hottest Night of Your Life

Summary : Bucky and Steve joined you for a night out at the club, but things took a dark turn when a stranger spiked your drink. Bucky and Steve were more than willing to "take care" of you.

Pairings : Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes

TW : Smut, NSFW, 18+

Tags : Possessiveness, Jealousy, Aphrodisiac, Slight Manipulation, Fingering, Threesome, Double Penetration, MMF, After Care

Words : 10.9k

A/N : Hey there! Apologies for the irregular updates, life's been quite hectic lately. Nevertheless, I wanted to share something with you for the holiday. I'm not sure if it's up to par, and I might delete it later, but for now, I hope you enjoy it!

My Masterlist

As you finished getting ready for the night out, you slipped into a daringly short dress with the clear intention of making a statement to get laid. The plan for the evening was simple – hit the club, have a good time, and maybe find some company for the night. Initially, Nat and Wanda were supposed to be your trusty wing-women, but they had mysteriously bailed on you, leaving you to navigate the scene solo.

Despite the slight annoyance at their unexpected absence, you couldn't stay mad, knowing the two had their own thing going on. A knowing smile played on your lips, realizing that you might be the sole occupant of the Avengers compound spending the night alone. It wasn't that you were one to sleep around, but the chance was too tempting to pass up, especially with the only man who held your interest seemingly oblivious to the depth of your feelings, at least not to the degree that he wanted to do anything about it.

With a self-assured mutter, you declared, "Alright, I’m ready to get laid." as you slipped into your high heels and grabbed your purse, ready to take on the night.

As you swung open the door, you were met with the unexpected sight of Steve and Bucky standing there. Their heads turned toward you in unison, jaws dropping, and their eyes shamelessly traced the contours of your figure, creating a heat that resonated through the room even before they touched you.

"Oh, hey guys. Sorry, I didn't see you there," you greeted them, ensuring your voice carried enough volume for them to hear. Their expressions shifted from confusion to subtle appreciation as they took in your well-put-together appearance. Tonight, you looked not just good but exceptionally gorgeous.

As you casually inquired, "I'm just about to go. Is there anything you need from me?" you maintained a calm tone, masking the arousal building within you as their intense gazes lingered on your form.

Steve, attempting to regain composure, stammered, "I, uh..." struggling to meet your eyes.

Bucky, captivated by the exposure of your legs, found himself at a loss for words, his mouth subtly watering. Silence lingered, a charged atmosphere thickening between the three of you.

Not willing to prolong the moment, you broke the silence, "Okay, bye. I'll see you later," and started walking toward the exit. Their apparent speechlessness didn't deter your determination to have a good time.

They didn’t say anything and you didn’t want to wait for them any longer, "Okay, bye. I’ll see you later," You mumbled as you began walking towards the exit, it seemed like the two didn't have anything else to say and you weren't in the mood to wait any longer, you were ready to have fun.

Before you could reach the door, Bucky's voice halted you with a single word, "Wait."

You stopped and turned around, concealing the effect their scrutiny had on you, hoping they didn't notice how wet you were through your panties, you didn't need anyone to know that your pussy was begging for attention, you just hoped that nobody could smell you. "Yeah?" you inquired, awaiting whatever he had to say, uncertainty hanging in the air.

"Uh," Steve and Bucky both stumbled, their thoughts racing in a direction they deemed inappropriate for you to discern. The air thickened with unspoken desires and awkward tension.

Concerned by their peculiar behavior, you raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Do I have something on my face?" Your gaze moved between the two men, sensing their discomfort and odd demeanor.

"No, not at all. It's just... Do you have plans?" Steve stuttered, casting a lingering glance over you. He couldn't help but imagine you in those heels, a tantalizing image that sent shivers down his spine. He felt his cock twitch and he was having a hard time not picturing you wearing those while he fucked you. "Where are you going?"

With a shrug, you replied, "Well, the girls bailed on me, so I'm going alone for some clubbing."

You couldn't help but notice their uneasy state. "Are you guys okay?"

"Fine," they both chimed simultaneously, their synchronized response only adding to the peculiarity of the situation.

Smiling softly, you turned to continue walking, bidding, "Okay then, well, bye."

"Hold on!" they exclaimed in unison, bringing you to a stop.

Turning back with a furrowed brow, you asked, "Yeah?"

"Would you mind if we came with you?" Steve questioned, his eyes devouring your form. He wanted to etch every detail of you into his memory, unwilling to miss out on any part of the captivating picture you painted.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You? Why?"

Bucky, his hands twitching with a desire he couldn't hide, chimed in, "You can't go out alone, it's not safe." The urge to touch you was evident in his restless movements, a silent plea for permission.

"I think I'll be fine, it's just clubbing," You shrugged, you weren't in the mood for babysitters, especially when all you wanted was a carefree night with drinks and hopefully a dick. “I can take care of myself.”

"It's not a good idea, we're coming with you," Bucky said, the two had already made up their minds.

"I don't know, guys..." Your hesitation lingered in the air as a tinge of worry crept into your voice. You were cautious, fearing they might unwittingly sabotage your chances of getting laid. Trying to dissuade them, you crafted excuses with a playful touch, "You guys don't really seem like the clubbing type. It's not exactly a hotspot for old people."

Steve, slightly offended, retorted, "Hey, we're not that old."

A playful chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you both are pushing 100 years old." Your attempt at humor fell a bit flat as you sensed their discomfort. The attempt at humor hung awkwardly in the air as you noticed their discomfort.

Your smile faded, and you cleared your throat, "Sorry, it's just that a lot of the music is newer, and you might not be familiar with the songs," you apologized, subtly appealing to their sensibilities in the hopes of swaying their decision.

"We can dance to any song, no matter the year, we'll fit right in," Bucky assured you, a trace of a smirk playing on his lips.

"Fine, but I don't want to hear any complaints," you agreed, not seeing the harm in taking the two along. You just hoped it wouldn't end up being awkward. "Now let's go," you urged, signalling them to follow as you turned back around.

"Wait, you're going in that?" Bucky questioned, pointing at your outfit.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" You crossed your arms, glaring at the man, "If I recall, I don't believe either of you have a right to tell me what I can and can't wear."

"Yeah, I'm with her, you can't tell her how to dress, if she wants to go clubbing in an outfit that shows off her curves, then that's her business." Steve defended you.

"Thank you, Steve," You smiled at the man before turning to Bucky, "I'm waiting, I don't think it should take this long for you to come up with a response."

"Nothing is wrong with the dress, it's just… You're going to attract a lot of attention," Bucky muttered, he didn't want a bunch of guys staring at you, he didn't want anyone laying a hand on you.

"I'm sure that's the point," you sighed, feeling impatient as you grabbed their hands and pulled them towards the door. You weren't in the mood for arguments, you just wanted to have a good time. "Can we please just go now?"

"Why do you want attention?" Steve asked, letting you pull him along, not that he needed any persuasion to follow you.

"Because," You sighed, rolling your eyes, you were not about to admit the real reason to the two super soldiers, you would rather die. "I just want a fun night out, now let's go, please."

Deciding not to press further, Steve and Bucky mumbled in agreement, choosing not to upset you and risk changing your mind. They followed after you, their eyes inadvertently drawn to the way your hips swayed as you walked—a sight that proved quite hypnotic.

You made your way out of the building and down the streets, it wasn't that far of a walk to the club you were going to, which was great since you weren't sure if the two super soldiers could fit into a taxi with you.

After a couple minutes of walking, the three of you finally made it to the club, the bouncer let the three of you in right away when he realized who the three of you were. Inside, you found a spot at the bar and motioned for the two men to sit on either side of you. They complied willingly, both instinctively warding off anyone attempting to claim a seat next to you.

However, Steve and Bucky looked conspicuously out of place, clearly unimpressed by the pounding beats and unfamiliar tunes that resonated in the club. Their discomfort was palpable, and they appeared more attuned to jazz or big band music.

Internally amused, you chuckled at their reactions, witnessing the awkwardness that had already garnered attention from the ladies. All eyes were on them, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, secretly yearning for the kind of attention they effortlessly attracted.

"Hey, can I get a martini and three shots of vodka, please?" you yelled, catching the bartender's attention. "Oh, and a beer for each of them."

"Sure," he replied, swiftly working on the drinks and placing them in front of the three of you moments later.

You wasted no time, grabbing your drink and downing it. "So, what's the plan for tonight?" Bucky asked as he and Steve sipped their beers.

"Well, I'm gonna get wasted, that's what," you replied, signaling the bartender for another drink. "And then I’m probably gonna dance." The night was young, and your intentions were clear – a mix of intoxication and uninhibited dancing awaited as you sought to make the most of the evening.

"That's a lot of things, are you sure you can do all of that?" Steve inquired, his eyes once again appraising you.

"Is there a problem with that?" you asked, taking a leisurely sip of the fresh martini the bartender handed you.

"Not at all, we just want you to have fun," Bucky reassured, his gaze focused on you.

"Thanks," you smiled, raising your shot glass for another round.

"No problem, sweetheart," Steve grinned, his fondness evident.

You hummed as you downed the second martini. "You know, I'm sure the two of you can get lucky tonight. There are tons of horny girls already drooling over you. I mean, you guys are super attractive."

"Oh, so you think we're attractive," Bucky grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"What?" You stuttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you realized the unexpected admission had slipped out.

"We heard you," Steve chimed in, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

"No, I didn't say anything," You replied, trying to cover up the fact that you admitted that the two were attractive, "You must be hearing things, I didn't say anything. Anyway, I-I’m gonna go dancing now."

No, I didn't say anything," you replied quickly, attempting to cover up the unexpected truth. "You must be hearing things. I didn't say anything. Anyway, I-I’m gonna go dancing now."

Ignoring the protests from both Steve and Bucky, you gracefully slid off the stool and made your way towards the dance floor. The pulsating beats grew louder, drowning out the lingering echoes of the conversation at the bar. As the rhythm took hold, you let the music guide your movements, relishing in the freedom of expression. The neon lights of the club flickered, casting a vibrant glow over the bustling dance floor.

Bucky and Steve couldn't tear their eyes away, captivated by your magnetic presence. Your hips swayed with the music, the ambient glow revealing the delicate sheen of sweat forming on your skin. As the attention from onlookers intensified, it became evident that you were blissfully unaware, each drink ordered contributing to the intoxicating haze that enveloped you.

"I don't like this," Steve growled, his gaze narrowing as he observed a guy dancing too closely behind you, hands brazenly on your hips.

"Me neither," Bucky muttered, glaring at the man who had his hands on you, his blood was boiling and his grip tightened around the glass, threatening to break it.

"Let's go over there, make sure he doesn't do anything," Steve suggested, a protective edge coloring his voice.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, downing the remnants of his drink in one fluid motion.

They both made their way over to the dance floor, bringing them closer to where you laughed and letting the guy touch you. Bucky tapped the man on the shoulder, a fierce glare directed at him. "Can I help you?" the guy challenged, met with the unyielding resolve of the two super soldiers.

"Yeah, get your hands off her," Bucky warned, his voice a low growl that conveyed both authority and a simmering threat.

You frowned at their interruption, momentarily taken aback as you relished your time with the guy. "Or what?" the guy scoffed, clearly unimpressed and unfazed by the two super soldiers.

"Bucky, what the fuck?" you snapped, irritation evident in your voice. From your perspective, the guy was doing just fine.

"We're leaving," Steve declared, wrapping his hand firmly around your arm.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. Fuck off," you snarled, attempting to yank your arm from Steve's grip.

The guy, undeterred, maintained his hold on your hips, his curiosity piqued. "You know them?" he asked, eyes shifting between you, Steve, and Bucky.

"Yeah," you replied, uncertain about the stranger's intentions. "They’re just a friend. Let's go back to dancing."

"I'm not fucking around, get your hands off her or I will make sure that you won't be able to hold anyone again," Bucky threatened.

"Are you serious?" The guy chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening in defiance.

"You have no idea who we are. If I were you, I'd release her and walk away," Steve interjected, a stern warning in his tone. He had no intention of letting the situation escalate into a public altercation.

"Yeah, since she's so eager to go with you guys," he retorted, sarcasm dripping from his words as he rolled his eyes dismissively.

"Steve, Bucky, I'm warning you, leave us alone!" you glared at them, frustration evident in your voice. Turning back to the guy, you pleaded, "Let's just ignore them," hoping to salvage the evening, you were getting horny and wanted him to fuck you.

"No. We're leaving," Steve ordered, he was tired of playing nice.

As Steve attempted to pull you away, the stranger stood firm, refusing to release his grip. "What the fuck is your problem?" The man growled. “Get a hint, asshole!”

"My problem is that you're touching her," Bucky declared, frustration boiling over as he seized the guy by the throat, forcefully pressing him against the wall. He was done being, he was going to punch him in the face.

"Bucky!" you yelled, shocked by his sudden aggression.

"Are you just going to stand there?" you questioned Steve, incredulous at his apparent nonchalance.

He merely shrugged in response, his demeanor nonchalant. "He should've left," Steve remarked casually, strolling over to observe the unfolding scene as Bucky maintained his grip on the man's throat.

"Let go," you pleaded, attempting to pry Bucky off the man. Despite your efforts, it became apparent that Bucky didn't register your words over the haze of his anger. Desperation crept into your voice, "Let him go, now! Or I won’t ever talk to you both again."

As you issued the ultimatum, Bucky turned his head toward you and dropped the man, watching as he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. He glared up at Bucky. "You're a psycho!" he yelled before hastily running off. "There are plenty of women here anyway. You’re not worth it."

“Wait, don’t go! Um...,” you hesitated, realizing you forgot to ask his name. “Ugh, whatever. I’m not in the mood anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned around to face Bucky. "What the hell was that?" you demanded, frustration and anger evident as you punctuated your question with a punch to Bucky's chest.

"Ow," Bucky flinched.

"Don't act like that hurt, I didn't hit you that hard," you retorted with an eye roll. Pissed off and no longer in the mood, you added, "Seriously, why the hell did you do that?"

"He had it coming. He was touching you," Steve pointed out, his tone defensive. "We couldn't stand by and watch."

"Yeah, and what's wrong with that?" you challenged, genuinely perplexed by their actions. You folded your arms, awaiting an explanation.

"Are you seriously asking us that?" Bucky questioned, his shock evident as he rubbed the spot where you had punched him.

"Yes, I don't understand what's so wrong with you guys. You don't have the right to tell me who I can and can't sleep with," you declared, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The club's music throbbed in the background, adding a surreal intensity to the confrontation.

"You want to sleep with him? Really?" Bucky asked, his tone was condescending.

"And what if I do, why does it matter?" You countered, getting more and more irritated.

"You can't be serious," Bucky scoffed.

"It's none of your business who I sleep with," You glared at him. "I can't believe this. That was my chance! And you guys completely ruin it."

"What chance? You should be grateful, that guy is an asshole," Bucky mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“That wasn’t your call! And you know what, don't talk to me," you snapped, frustration etched across your face. "I'm going home, I can't deal with this shit."

"No, we're not done talking," Steve protested, attempting to grab your wrist.

"Let go," you yanked your arm away, irritation fueling your movements. "I'm going home."

You spun around and marched towards the exit, not bothering to wait for the two. Then as you walked, your head suddenly felt dizzy, you stopped and held your head, everything was spinning and the sounds were muffled. "Fucking hell," You groaned.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, concerned, as he came up to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder to steady you.

"Don't touch me," you hissed, slapping his hand away. Anger boiled up inside you, but then your head started to feel light, and you stumbled, your vision becoming fuzzy.

You didn’t understand why your head suddenly felt dizzy, you hadn’t consumed that much alcohol. You knew your limits, and this amount shouldn't have made you feel drunk.

"You don’t look fine sweetheart, how many drinks did you have?" Steve asked, placing his hand on the small of your back. You were too weak to push him away so you just ignored him.

"I dunno," You mumbled, trying to focus on them. “It shouldn’t make me this drunk…”

“Did you take any drinks from that guy?” Bucky asked and you thought for a moment, you didn't, but maybe, you couldn't remember. You didn't know what happened after the last couple drinks, everything was blurry.

"Maybe, I don't know," You replied.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He was about to go inside again. But Steve stopped him. “Buck, later. Now we have something else to worry about. We should make sure everything is okay." Bucky was reluctant but listened to Steve, they would get him later.

"We'll take you home, sweetheart don't worry," Steve spoke, rubbing your back.

"It's okay, I can manage myself." You pulled yourself away from his touch and turned away, wanting to leave. You wanted to be alone and rest, not be near the two super soldiers.

But you took a step and your body collapsed, if it weren't for the super soldier, you would've hit the floor. "See, you can't," Steve stated, holding you up by your waist.

"But I don't want your help," you protested weakly, your stubbornness clinging to you even in your compromised state.

Steve sighed, exchanging a worried glance with Bucky. "We can argue about this later. Right now, let us help you, we'll take you to my place and then we can figure out what's wrong, okay?" He suggested.

"Fine," You reluctantly agreed, leaning into his hold.

"Come on Buck."

Bucky hailed a cab since walking home in your current state was out of the question. As you settled into the backseat, a sudden surge of heat engulfed you, making the ride feel more suffocating than the dimly lit club you'd just left. You fanned yourself, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, and the dress sticking uncomfortably to your skin.

"Fuck, why is it so hot in here?" you complained, looking at Steve and Bucky, who appeared unfazed by the sudden rise in temperature. “Aren't you guys feeling hot?”

Steve had already discarded his jacket, his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing his casually confident demeanor. On the other hand, Bucky remained fully dressed. The two exchanged knowing looks before Steve spoke up, "Doll, you were roofied."

"What?" Your voice came out soft, a mix of confusion and disbelief. But soon, anger surged within you, intensifying the heat in your head, making you feel nauseous. "Ugh, why can't I fucking catch a break?"

"You're okay sweetheart," Steve assured you, "Buck and I will help you, we won't let anything happen to you."

"Okay," You gave in, resting your head against the seat. You were tired, you just wanted to go to bed. You felt Steve wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you close. You rested your head on his shoulder, you were too weak to care.

"Okay," you relented, leaning your head against the seat. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you; all you wanted was to crawl into bed. Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You nestled your head on his shoulder, too drained to resist.

Upon reaching home, you found yourself being gently guided to the bedroom. "Here, doll," Steve said, placing you on the bed and handing you a water bottle. "Drink some."

"I don't want it," you grumbled, pushing it away.

"Drink it, you'll need it."

"Fine." You took a few sips, but the water offered little relief. Instead, the heat intensified, your stomach now feeling uneasy, akin to a fluttering of butterflies. Confused and uncomfortable, you couldn't pinpoint the cause, especially since the water should have calmed the fire.

You attempted to take off your dress, but weakness overwhelmed you. Sensing your struggle, Steve sat beside you and gently assisted in removing the dress. "We have to take your clothes off, okay? It'll help," Steve informed you.

"I'll just do it myself," you mumbled, determined to exert independence. Pushing yourself up, you tried to stand, but the drugs had weakened you considerably, causing you to sway dangerously. Fortunately, Bucky acted swiftly, grabbing your arm just in time.

"I got you, doll. Just let us help you, okay?"

"Okay," You gave up.

Bucky gently assisted you in sitting up on the bed and then proceeded to remove your heels. Steve then came in and pulled down the zipper, allowing your dress to slide off your shoulders. Beneath, you wore a simple laced bra and underwear set.

Bucky and Steve tried not to stare too much, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. They were just helping a friend out. "Okay, do you need anything else?" Steve asked.

Despite still feeling hot, weird, and tired, the comfy bed and cool air conditioner offered a tempting sanctuary. "Stay," you requested, lacking the energy for further explanation.

"You want us to stay here?" Steve sought clarification.

"Yes," you affirmed, your fatigue evident in your response.

"We'll stay here," Bucky reassured you.

You smiled and closed your eyes. The room was spinning and your head felt dizzy. You felt so weak and tired, you could just fall asleep right here. But then a sudden burst of energy rushed through your veins, you were no longer tired, and your body was heating up.

"Fuck," You moaned, clutching the sheets. "Steve...Buck..."

"We're here," Bucky sat beside you, while Steve was in front.

You opened your eyes, feeling dazed and hazy. "I feel weird," You mumbled.

"How, sweetheart? Does it hurt?"

"My body is hot, my stomach feels weird," You rubbed your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension between your legs. "Fuck, I feel weird."

"Shit, she's horny," Bucky realized.

"What?" You asked, confused.

"Doll, the drug is supposed to make people horny, basically it's an aphrodisiac that the dude slipped into your drink," Steve explained.

"Then what do we do now? Fuck... I...feel….," You panted, your breathing became heavier.

You were already wet, your panties damp. You were still wearing the underwear so it was fine, not a lot of discomfort yet but you kept rubbing your thighs to get some friction.

Steve then opened your legs and exposing your heat. Steve could see how soaked your panties were, the wetness covering the area. "Steve what are you doing?" You asked, watching him as he spread your legs.

"We have to get the drugs out of your system," Steve replied, his face so close to your core.

"What?" You couldn't believe what Steve was doing. "But how does that work?" You asked as Steve kept your thighs open and looked at your clothed heat.

"I’m going to try and suck out the drug," Steve said as if it was nothing.

"What?! Steve no, you don't have to do that," You blushed and shook your head at him, but then you felt his hands gripped your inner thighs tightly.

"No, no, no," Steve shook his head and then he started to kiss your thighs making you moan. "Trust me, Y/N, I want to," He continued, sucking the sensitive skin making you moan again.

"Fuck, Steve," You moaned as you felt his lips kissing your thighs. Steve kept kissing and licking, marking your thighs with his lips.

"Just let us help you, doll." Bucky said as he watched you getting turned on by Steve.

"Okay, okay," You gave up, feeling the heat in your stomach, wanting release.

Steve was so close to your cunt, you could feel his warm breath. You were squirming from the stimulation but Steve kept a good grip on your thighs, not letting you move too much.

"Fuck," You cursed, you could feel his teeth and his lips on your thighs, the pain was pleasurable, a nice contrast to the teasing.

Steve kept teasing, kissing everywhere but where you want him the most. You were getting frustrated and you were about to tell him when he licked a stripe across your clothed heat, the damp lace barely covering anything.

You groaned and bucked your hips but Steve kept you still, his big hands gripping your thighs tightly. "Steve please, I need more," You begged him, you wanted to feel his mouth directly on your cunt, not your underwear.

"I'll give you what you need, don't worry," Steve said as he started to rub his thumb on your clit.

You gasped as he touched the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks throughout your body. Steve's touch felt amazing and you wanted more, but the lace was in the way. Steve then hooked his fingers on the lace, pulling the underwear off. You were now bare for them to see. Bucky watched as Steve kept touching you, making you a mess.

Steve then put your legs on his shoulders and licked your cunt. He didn't waste any time, he ate you out like he's been starving. Your eyes were shut, mouth agape as Steve worked his magic.

Steve was really good, knowing where to lick and touch. He kept eating you out, his tongue circling around your clit. Your hand went to his hair and you tugged his hair, making him moan, sending vibrations to your cunt.

"Oh god, Steve!" You screamed his name.

"She sounds so pretty, Stevie. Can't wait to have her screaming our names later," Bucky said as he moved behind you, making you sit up so you were leaning against his chest.

Steve didn't reply, he just continued to eat you out. He could feel his cock hardening at the thought of you cumming and screaming his name.

Bucky's hands went to your breasts, groping them, massaging them, and removed your bra. "Your tits are perfect, Y/N," Bucky whispered into your ear as he played with your nipples.

"Oh fuck," You moaned and arched your back as Steve inserted a finger into your tight pussy.

Bucky watched Steve, his friend's face was buried between your thighs, eating you out, making you feel so good. Steve inserted another finger, fucking you with his long digits, hitting all the right places. You were moaning loudly, your orgasm was building, you could feel the knot tightening, but you couldn't cum. The drugs were making it hard for you to cum.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed as you held Bucky's hands and squeezed his flesh arm tightly.

"What's wrong, doll?" Bucky asked as he stopped playing with your breasts and held you instead.

"I can't cum, I need more," You told him. "Please, please, Steve," You begged him, you hoped that they could give you more, help you reach your climax. He wanted you to cum, so he could hear you scream his name again. He wanted to taste you. So, he put two fingers inside you and moved them while his mouth was focused on your clit.

Steve increased the speed, fucking you harder and faster, sucking on your clit while Bucky's hands roamed your body. The pleasure was overwhelming, you couldn't take it anymore. "I'm so close," You mumbled, feeling the tension building in your stomach.

"Then cum," Bucky growled as he pinched your nipple.

"Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my tongue," Steve said, looking at you, his blue eyes darker than usual.

And that's what did it. You came, screaming both Steve and Bucky's name, tugging Steve’s blonde locks, your body trembling from the intense pleasure. Steve pulled away with a string of your slick connected to his lips, his chin was soaked from your wetness. He looked up at you and smirked.

"We'll give you a minute to calm down and then we'll continue," Steve said as he watched you catch your breath.

"Continue? What do you mean?" You asked, confused. You didn't think they were going to do anything else, this was enough. After all, Steve said the drug would be gone after he sucked it out.

"The drug's not gone yet," Bucky stated as he gripped your chin and turned your head to him. "We thought by sucking you was enough, but we need to make sure that we got all of it," He continued as he crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you hungrily.

Steve then went to kiss your neck, licking the spots where Bucky bit and sucked earlier. "Looks like I didn't do good enough job earlier." Steve whispered as he kissed your neck.

Bucky hands travelled to your cunt, rubbing your clit. "I don't know if we have to keep going or not," He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned as you leaned back to Bucky, his chest pressed against your back.

"Bucky," You whimpered.

"What do you say, Steve?" Bucky asked his best friend.

"I don't think we've done a good enough job, she's not begging us," Steve said as he pulled away. "I think she doesn't want us, Buck."

"Really, doll?" Bucky replied as he rubbed your clit in slow circles teasingly. You couldn't help but to arched up into his hand, whining as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. Bucky chuckled as he pulled his hand away, making you whimper. "Looks like Steve might be right, what should we do?"

"I don't know, Buck." Steve sighed, stroking himself slowly. "It's a shame, really. If she begged we'd give her everything she wants. I mean, she's just sitting there, wanting us so bad," Steve taunted while he was kissing all over your body, making you whimper again.

You could feel their cocks hardening against your ass and your thigh. They wanted you, and you wanted them. "I want you, please," You begged. "I need more."

"More of what?" Steve asked as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Say it, doll, I wanna hear you say it," He demanded as he removed his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock.

"More of your fingers, more of your mouth, your cocks, I don't care. I just need you," You cried, feeling desperate for release. "I want your cocks in me, I want to ride both of you. Please, just fuck me, please," You begged, you couldn't take the teasing anymore.

"There, was that so hard?" Bucky teased as he stood up and removed his clothes.

Both Steve and Bucky were naked, and they looked even more gorgeous. Bucky had a metal arm and a scarred shoulder, but he was handsome, and he was ripped. Steve had a similar look to Bucky, only his arms weren't scarred, they were smooth. His muscles were huge and you wanted to run your fingers all over them.

"Fuck, you two are so sexy," You commented, looking at them up and down. You didn't know if it were the drug or the lust that was talking, but you couldn't find a better description for them.

"Look who's talking," Steve smirked. "Now, are you ready?" He asked, wrapping an arm around your waist, supporting you.

"Yeah, I'm ready," You replied.

Steve picked you up, carrying you bridal style, and walked to the bed, laying you down carefully. Steve climbed on top of you and Bucky joined the two of you on the bed.

"Fuck, doll. You look so beautiful, laid down like this," Steve whispered as he stroked your face. You blushed as you looked away. "Look at me, baby," He said, turning your head back.

Your heart was pounding, you couldn't believe you were actually doing this. Steve started sucking your neck, making you moan as his beard tickled you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, moaning.

"I wanna fuck her," Steve said, looking at Bucky, who was stroking his cock.

"Go ahead," Bucky said to Steve. “Why don’t you spread your legs for us, doll? Be a good girl and do as we say,"

You laid down on the bed and spread your legs, exposing your wet cunt. You could see Steve and Bucky's eyes darken with lust. They were both naked now, their muscular bodies were perfect and they were huge, especially their cocks.

Steve spread your legs, pushing himself inside of you, groaning. You gasped as you felt him filling you, moaning as he started moving. Steve was huge, and he felt so good, stretching you out. You couldn't help but to arch up to him, feeling the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"You're so tight, doll," Steve groaned as he fucked you faster.

Bucky moved, climbing on the bed next to the two of you, positioning himself near your face. "Open up," He said. You opened your mouth, allowing Bucky to slide his cock inside. You moaned as he began to thrust into your mouth.

Steve grabbed your legs, placing them on his shoulders as he fucked you, his balls hitting your ass with every thrust. "Mmphhh" You moaned, arching up.

"Shit," Bucky groaned, moving his hips, thrusting his cock into your mouth. You ran a hand over his thigh, moving down, touching his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Fuck, Stevie. Her mouth feels so fucking good, it's so hot and wet," He moaned as you bobbed your head, moving up and down his cock, moaning.

Steve growled and began fucking you faster, hitting deeper. You arched up, grabbing the sheets. "Oh, fuck!" You gasped, feeling your orgasm coming.

"Her pussy feels so fucking good Buck" Steve groaned, his hands were on your hips, gripping tightly.

"I can't wait to fuck her next," Bucky groaned as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, thrusting in and out of your mouth.

"You like this huh sweetheart?” Steve moaned, “You are squeezing my cock, sweetheart Fuck,"

"Fuck, I'm so close," Bucky said, moving his hips, fucking your mouth harder. "Fuck, baby, suck my cock, that's it. Such a good girl," He praised, making you moan.

You couldn't speak, your moans were muffled by Bucky's cock. You were moaning, feeling Steve's cock hitting your g-spot, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You closed your eyes, letting the sensations overtake you.

"I'm gonna come," You managed to gasp, feeling yourself starting to tense up. You were close, you could feel your orgasm building up, your pussy was pulsing, and your nipples were hardening. You wanted to scream, but Bucky's cock was in your mouth, stopping you from doing so.

"Shit, fuck, fuck, doll, I'm coming, fuck," Steve growled, his thrusts becoming sloppier, losing his rhythm. He grabbed your hips, holding them tightly.

"Me too," Bucky gasped, grabbing a fistful of your hair, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth. Bucky and Steve thrust were getting sloppy. You were choking and drooling around his cock. You could taste the salty pre-cum and you loved it.

They both came at the same time, you were right behind them, coming, clenching around Steve's cock. "Fuck," Steve growled, coming, spurting his load inside of you, his cum spilling out. "That's a good girl," Steve praised as he pushed you deeper.

Bucky came with a loud groan, his cum filling your mouth. You swallowed as much as you could, but some of it spilled down your chin. He pulled out, stroking himself, making sure to get every drop out.

"Fucking hell, doll. You're so good at that," Bucky moaned.

"Shit, baby," Steve panted.

You were laying down, feeling completely blissed out. Your whole body was tingling, and you were panting. You never came that hard in your life, maybe the drug enhance the experience? Or was it the fact that you were being doted on by two incredibly handsome, and kind men? Either way, it was an amazing experience, and you wouldn't change a thing.

You were still horny even though you just came. Maybe you could convince them to go again? You were about to say something when you felt a hand on your cheek. You opened your eyes and saw Bucky smiling down at you.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Mhm, more than alright," you smiled back. You saw both of them got hard again, your eyes widened, "How can you get hard so fast?" Guys usually needed time to recover after coming right? Or did they not come that hard? You thought they did.

"It's the serum," Steve explained. "We can get hard, stay hard, and last longer than most men."

"You're not done yet, doll," Bucky whispered. "We still have a lot of fun ahead of us."

"We're not stopping until you can't walk straight," Bucky added. "You're going to take us both. At the same time."

Your whole body was still tingling, and you felt a warmth spreading through your belly. You were already aroused, but hearing him say that, you felt even more aroused. You let out a small moan, and you blushed, covering your face.

"Don't hide, doll," Steve coaxed, moving your hands away, "We want to see your beautiful face."

"Yeah, we want to see your pretty face," Bucky agreed, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"Come on, doll, don't hide," Steve coaxed again, pulling your hands away.

"Okay," you nodded, moving your hands. You blushed, your cheeks turning red. You looked down, feeling shy. You weren't used to the praises. It was a new thing for you, a nice thing. But it still made you feel a little shy.

"That's it. Don't be embarrassed," he said. "You're perfect, you hear me? Perfect. You took our cocks like a good girl."

"Yeah, doll. You're fucking perfect," Bucky added.

"Let's get you ready for round 2, huh?" he asked, running his thumb across your bottom lip.

You nodded again, and Steve leaned in, kissing you. He was slow and gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth. He kissed you deeply, passionately. You were breathing heavily, your heart racing. You were so turned on, it was unreal.

Bucky watched with a hungry expression, his eyes roaming your naked body. "I'm so fucking lucky," he muttered under his breath. He moved between your legs, his hands moving over your thighs, and then to your pussy. He stroked your pussy, his fingers teasing you. "I can’t fucking wait to fuck this sweet pussy.”

After you and Steve broke the kiss, Bucky then pulled you into straddling his lap, his cock was resting against your stomach. He was stroking your back, kissing your neck. He was being gentle, his movements slow and deliberate. You were grinding on his lap, his cock pressing into you. You were aching for more, "Steve, I want her to ride me, you can prep her, and then join us, okay?"

"Sure." Steve got up to grab the lube and moved behind you. "I need you to lean forward, baby doll." You followed his instruction and leaned forward, bracing yourself against Bucky's shoulder.

You looked over your shoulder to see him squeezed some lube on his fingers. Then he leaned forward and kissed you. You could feel the coolness of the lube touching your ass as he gently worked one finger into your tight ass. You hissed at the intrusion. "It's okay, baby, just relax." Bucky said. He ran his hands up and down your back.

You nodded, letting out a breath. Steve continued his slow movements, "There you go, baby. Taking me so good." You began to feel comfortable with his finger in your ass, it hurt from his finger you worried about taking his cock.

But then it started to feel good with Bucky now helping you to relax by sucking and licking your breast, his other hand playing with your clit. You moaned at the sensation of Steve's fingers, and the feeling of Bucky playing with your nipples. You were grinding down onto Bucky’s hardness, desperate for friction. You were sure he could feel how soaked you were on his cock.

"You think you're ready for another?" Steve asked, looking down at you. You nodded. "Use your words, baby doll."

"Yes, sir," you replied.

He then removed his finger, squeezing some more lube and pushing another one inside of you. "Ahh," you let out.

"You're okay, doll. You're doing so well. Such a good girl." Bucky praised.

The feeling of Steve's fingers, along with Bucky's praise sent a new sensation through you. It wasn't necessarily arousal, but it was something similar.

"You're doing so good, baby. Take my fingers so well," Steve said.

"Please," you begged, "I want more." You looked at Bucky with pleading eyes. "Want you inside of me."

You saw Bucky's jaw clench and eyes darkened, "Fuck doll, you can't just say that." Bucky growled, "I can't wait any longer, I need to be in you now," Bucky was holding his cock, and positioning it at your entrance.

He slammed you down. You took a breath as his cock slowly stretched you. The wetness from your previous orgasms making it easy for him to slide in. You whimpered as he moved. Bucky's eyes never left yours.

Steve was behind you, whispering encouragement into your ear. "Such a good girl. You look so pretty taking Bucky's cock."

Bucky slowly picked up his pace, thrusting harder into you. "Fuck doll, why didn't we do this sooner?" He groaned, moving his hips upward, pounding into you. You were a moaning mess, you felt as if you were going to burst. The pleasure was building up inside of you.

Your mind went blank, and all you could think about was how good it felt. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning. "Oh yeah, just like that. Keep making those pretty sounds for me, doll," Bucky said. You could feel him hit your g-spot over and over, each time it got more intense. You wrapped your hand on Bucky's shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh.

Steve pushed two fingers inside you and curled them, finding the spot that drove you crazy, your walls clenched around his fingers. You started riding Bucky's cock, grinding your hips on his hard member as Steve was scissoring you, trying to stretch you out. When he had worked a third finger in, he started thrusting them in and out. "Taking both of us will take some work. You're doing so good for us now, sweetheart."

Bucky kept his eyes on yours, making sure you were okay. After a few moments, they began working together faster with their combined rhythm while fucking harder from both ends.

Soon, you were rocking back and forth between them, moaning their names.

"Such a good girl," Steve praised.

"So fucking hot," Bucky groaned.

"Please," you begged. Steve moved his other hand and pinched your nipples while he turned your head around to taste your mouth. Your whole body tingled and the sensations were so overwhelming, you could feel yourself getting close. You rocked your hips faster, bouncing up and down on his length. You were so lost in the pleasure, that you didn't realize when Steve started to stretch you with two fingers.

You could feel your second orgasm building, and it was going to be bigger. "Fuck, Bucky! I'm so close, oh fuck, right there!" You moaned, digging your nails deeper into his shoulder. You moaned. You felt Steve's other hand reach around and start rubbing your clit.

Your whole body was on fire, and you felt like you were going to explode. Steve kept pumping his fingers in and out of your ass while rubbing your clit. While Bucky thrusting inside you faster and rougher.

"Cum for us, Y/N." Bucky ordered. "Let us hear you scream our names."

Your orgasm tore through you. Your body shook violently as you screamed their names. "Fuck, Bucky! Steve!" It was so strong that you couldn't even hear yourself screaming his name.

You were completely limp, lying against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. "That's it, baby doll. So good. Taking us both so good." Bucky praised. He placed a kiss on your forehead, his breathing ragged.

You felt Steve's fingers slow down and his thrusts became shallower. Steve was still fucking into you, trying to prolong your orgasm. He pulled his fingers from your ass and trailed kisses around your back. “Good job, sweetheart. We are so proud of you.”

Bucky was still inside you but he stilled his hips, allowing you to catch your breath. "How do you feel, doll?" Bucky asked.

"Amazing," you breathed out.

Steve kissed your shoulder blade, "You did so good, baby. I'm proud of you," he said. "Are you ready to take us both, doll? You think you can do it?" Steve asked.

You felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your head. The two most gorgeous men on the planet had you trapped between them and they were making a plan to fuck you into oblivion. It was a dream, right?

You nodded. You were ready. "Yeah. I'm ready. I can handle it."

Steve chuckled. "That's our girl. We'll make it good for you. It will be better than any dream."

You moaned, hearing his words, you wanted them both inside you. "Please, fuck me," You begged.

Bucky grinned, he looked over your shoulder at Steve. "You hear that, Stevie? She wants us to fuck her."

"Yeah, I heard, Buck. Can’t wait to fuck this sweet ass." Steve smiled back at you, he was still behind you, pressed his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist. Bucky was sitting upright, his legs spread apart. He held you up, helping Steve position himself behind you.

“You move first so she can adjust to it first then I’ll move.” Bucky said.

Steve then poured more lube onto his length, he poured generous amount of lube and stroke it onto his cock. Then he was positioned at your entrance. "Are you ready?" He asked, his mouth was against your ear. His hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you nodded.

"Relax," Steve said. You were aware of Steve's hands spreading you open. The tip of his cock brushed against your hole.

"Fuck," you whined.

"It's okay, doll. We'll take care of you." Bucky said, rubbing circles on your thighs.

Steve pushed inside you slowly, feeling his girth spreading you wide. "God," Steve groaned, his head leaning back. You could feel him stretching you open. You gasped, and gripped onto Bucky's shoulders, the pain was intense, it burned a little making you winced.

"Shit, fuck, shit," You groaned. It was uncomfortable at first. But he waited, and he didn't move, he was letting you adjust.

"You're doing good, sweetheart." Steve whispered, stroking your back. "Just relax."

You took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. They were stretching you out, "You ok, sweetheart?" Bucky asked. Bucky kept his eyes on yours, making sure you were okay. “Is it too much for you?”

"I'm okay. Just give me a minute." You closed your eyes, trying to relax. You knew it would pass, and the pleasure would be worth it.

Both of them were helping by rubbing your back, kissing your lips, and whispering sweet praises into your ear. You could feel both of their hands on your hips, and their mouths kissing and sucking at your neck and shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" Bucky asked. You had never felt more full.

"It feels so good, you guys are so big. Just... give me a second," you said. They both waited patiently, not moving as they allowed you to adjust. You began to move your hips, trying to encourage them. "I think I'm ready. Please."

Both of them started to move at the same time. Their pace was slow and deliberate, giving you a chance to get used to them being inside you. You moaned, throwing your head back against Steve's shoulder. It felt amazing, having both of them moving at the same time. The burning sensation was replaced with an intense feeling of pleasure. You could feel both of them hitting the spot that drove you crazy.

Steve reached around and started playing with your tits, sending shivers down your spine. Bucky had one hand on your hips, and his other hand was between your clit. Both of them were thrusting in and out of you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, making you scream their names.

Bucky groaned, "Oh doll, you feel so fucking good."

"I think we're going to have to pick this up a bit," Bucky said as he thrust deeper inside you.

"Yeah, I think she's ready." Steve started to move faster, thrusting deep inside you.

"Yeah, baby. Take our cocks. You like taking our cocks, don't you?" Steve hands from behind were groping your tits, squeezing and massaging them.

" Yeah, baby. Take our cocks." Steve growled, his hands from behind were groping your tits, squeezing and massaging them as he pounded into you. "You like being filled up by two cocks. You love having us inside you."

"Oh, fuck, yes. I love it. Fuck me harder, please," You begged.

"Your ass feel so good, sweetheart. So tight and hot," Steve groaned. "You're doing such a good job, taking us both. You're being such a good girl for us, baby."

They were both thrusting inside you, your body sandwiched between them, their movements making the friction against your clit that much sweeter. You were surrounded by their smell, their skin, their sweat, their moans of pleasure. You were overwhelmed, your senses consumed by them. Part of you thought it was the drug's effect but another part knew that it was just because of who they were.

Now you could care less if it was the drugs, it was amazing. The sensations were so intense. Bucky gripped your chin, "Focus on us, doll. On our cocks inside you, on our voices." His grip on your chin was firm, but he was still gentle.

"That's it, focus on how good we feel," Steve whispered in your ear, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. "Do you know how beautiful you are? How sexy?"

Bucky moved his hand from your chin to your hair and grabbed a fistful of it, pulling your head back so that he could claim your lips. He kissed you fiercely, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring your mouth. You moaned into his mouth, loving the possessiveness of his kiss.

When the kiss ended, Steve turned your head so that he could claim your lips as well. Your body was burning up, their combined pleasure coursing through your veins, your blood singing with the feeling. Your pussy clenched around Bucky's cock and you could feel his breathing becoming ragged. He was getting close.

"Fuck, Bucky, I don't know how long I'm gonna last." Steve said. You knew Steve was holding back, he could easily pound into you if he wanted to, but he was waiting for you and Bucky to get there.

"She's close, just a little more," Bucky grunted.

"God, I'm so close, please," you begged. You needed to come.

"Come for us, doll." Bucky growled.

"Yes, yes!" You cried as your orgasm washed over you, your walls clamping down on both of their cocks, the sensation of you walls spasming and contracting was too much for them to handle, pushing them both over the edge. They both kept fucking you through your high as their thrusts became frantic, both of them chasing their own releases.

"Buck, I'm close," Steve grunted.

"Yeah. Me too. Come on, Stevie, come in her ass. Fill her with your come. Show her who she belongs to. Claim her."

Bucky groaned, his body going stiff as he emptied his load into you. Steve let out a loud moan as his orgasm hit. He thrust deep inside you, filling you up. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, his seed coating your insides.

You slumped against Bucky, your body completely spent. They stayed inside you for a moment, both of them trying to catch their breath. Steve moved first, carefully pulling out of you. He gently picked you up and placed you down on the bed. Bucky pulled out, and you let out a small moan. You were already sore.

"I'll get you a towel," Steve said, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "Just stay right there."

"Here, sweetheart. We’ll clean you up." Bucky gently wiped away the remnants of his and Steve's cum.

You smiled, feeling so relaxed. Bucky finished cleaning you and threw the towel on the ground. He kissed you deeply, and you couldn't help the smile that crept on your lips. He broke the kiss and laid next to you, holding your body close. He snuggled into your other side and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

"That was intense," you commented, a smile playing on your lips.

"That's an understatement, doll. You were amazing," Bucky chuckled, expressing his admiration with a sweet kiss.

"Thanks to both of you. That was incredible. You two have been with women, but that was my first time with two people. I'm so glad it was with you guys." You looked at each of them, your eyes full of love.

"Are you kidding?" Steve chuckled, "We should be thanking you. You're the best thing to happen to us, darlin'."

Bucky's fingers traced light patterns on your arm, and he added, "I agree. So, did you enjoy yourself?"

"What do you think?" you laughed. "I don't know how I'm going to walk tomorrow."

"Well, hopefully, it will be a nice reminder of tonight," Bucky grinned playfully.

"Yeah, I doubt I'll be forgetting tonight anytime soon," You chuckled.

"Good," Steve smiled, his gaze filled with affection. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, delivering a gentle kiss. "I'm glad you had a good time. We did too."

"You have no idea, doll." Bucky smirked. He gave you another kiss on your forehead. "Do you need anything? Water?"

"That would be great, actually. I'm a little thirsty," you admitted, the aftermath of your shared activities leaving you in need of hydration.

"We should all hydrate after that," Steve laughed.

"I'll be right back." Bucky walked out of the room, heading to the kitchen

Steve shifted to lie beside you. "That was quite a ride."

"It was," you smiled, the post-experience glow evident on your face.

"You're really amazing, you know that?" Steve complimented, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

"You're not so bad yourself," You laughed.

Bucky returned, cradling two bottles of water in his hands. He extended one to you and the other to Steve before settling down on the opposite side. His eyes reflected a mix of concern and care.

"Are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself or anything?" Bucky inquired, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, I'm fine, Buck," you reassured him with a warm smile.

"Good," he sighed in relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. "I'd feel awful if we hurt you.”

"Don't worry about me. I can handle a little rough sex." You laughed.

"If you say so." He chuckled.

You smiled, finishing the last drops of your water. Steve gathered the empty bottles, disposing of them in a nearby bin.

As you laid down, a yawn escaping your lips. The drug coursing through your system, coupled with exhaustion, was taking a toll on you. As you lay there, a hazy stupor enveloping your senses, you could hear Bucky and Steve engaged in conversation, but couldn't understand what they were saying as everything began to fade.

You drifted off to sleep.

The next time you opened your eyes, the morning sun bathed the room in a warm glow. Glancing over, you noticed that Steve and Bucky were still peacefully asleep next to you. You took a few minutes to enjoy the feeling of warmth and comfort before carefully disentangling yourself from them and tiptoed into the bathroom for a refreshing shower. Afterward, you draped yourself in a robe and made your way to the kitchen.

It was the morning after your first night as mates. It wasn't a secret that Steve and Bucky had wanted this for a long time, but you hadn't been so sure. They were your best friends and you didn't want to risk messing that up by bringing feelings into the mix. And yet, they'd somehow managed to convince you.

As you bustled around the kitchen, the mellow sounds of brewing coffee filling the air, a subtle noise pulled you from your tasks. Swiveling around, you found Steve and Bucky, now fully awake, standing in the doorway. "Good morning, boys," you greeted them, a warm smile gracing your lips.

They exchanged puzzled glances. "What are you doing up? Why didn't you wake us?" Steve inquired, clearly confused.

"I just wanted to get a head start on the day," you replied casually, your smile unwavering.

Steve closed the distance between you, a gentle expression softening his features. "That's not how this works, doll. You wake us up. You need anything, you let us know." He smiled, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Well, you both look so worn out, and I don’t blame you after what we did last night. So, IO figured you could use the extra sleep,” you explained, pouring two mugs of coffee, offering them each one. “Plus, I wanted to make you a thank-you breakfast, for being so amazing to me,"

“Careful, doll.” Bucky sidled up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his chin on your shoulder. "You keep this up and we'll start to think you want us around." He smirked at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"And that's a bad thing?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow at him.

Bucky pressed his lips to yours, before pulling away with a playful grin. "Not in the slightest, doll."

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving." Steve announced.

"Well, that's no surprise," you teased, earning a glare from Steve. "I'll finish making breakfast, you two can sit."

"No way," Steve retorted, snatching the spatula from your hand and taking over. "Go sit."

"Yeah, doll," Bucky added. "You sit. Relax." He nudged you toward the kitchen table.

"Guys, come on, let me help," you insisted, attempting to reclaim the spatula from Steve's firm grip. He playfully held it just out of your reach, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Not a chance," Steve chuckled.

You pouted, "But… I want to be nice to you guys."

"You are being nice, sweetheart." Steve leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead as he placed a tender kiss. "Now, come on, sit. Let us take care of it."

Reluctantly, you complied, settling into a chair and observing as the boys skillfully took charge of breakfast preparations.The sizzle of eggs, bacon, and pancakes filled the air as they expertly flipped them, occasionally stealing glances in your direction. Engaging in casual conversation, you asked, "So, what are your plans for today?"

"Nothing too exciting," Bucky responded, flashing a charming grin your way.

"That's fine," you reassured him. As they finished cooking, they presented a delightful spread in front of you. "Wow, this look delicious, thanks, guys!"

"It was our pleasure, sweetheart," Steve smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.

"We love spoiling you." Bucky grinned, digging into his food.

"But after this, we have some business to take care of," Steve chimed in, his tone serious.

"Business?" You raised an eyebrow, curiously.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, doll. Just a quick trip we need to make." Steve's reassuring words did little to ease the sudden wave of concern washing over you.

You furrowed your brow. "What do you mean?"

"We've got a meeting," he disclosed, taking bite of his food.

Your expression shifted into one of curiosity and concern. "A meeting? With who?" you pressed for details.

They exchanged glances, prompting Bucky to downplay the importance. "It's nothing, doll. Just some boring stuff," he assured with a nonchalant tone.

"Are you sure?" you persisted, a hint of skepticism coloring your expression. The uncertainty in their demeanor was hard to ignore.

"Don't worry about it," Steve smiled, attempting to brush off your concerns with casual reassurance. "Everything will be fine."

You sighed, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to this meeting than they were letting on. "If you say so."

"We do. Now, enough about work. Let's talk about something more fun." Bucky smirked, the mischievous glint in his eye sending a shiver down your spine.

"Like what?" you asked, curious about the direction of the conversation.

"Well, we were thinking..." Steve began.

"About last night," Bucky continued, finishing his best friend's thought.

"Oh." You couldn't help but smile, a subtle blush creeping into your face at the memory of the previous night.

"And we'd like a repeat performance," Steve stated, his expression serious, though a playful undertone was evident.

"Would you?" you mused, feigning ignorance and adding to the playful banter.

"Yes, we would," Bucky affirmed, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes.

"Well, then," you replied with a sly smile, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I suppose that could be arranged."

Your giggles echoed in the room as you enjoyed their company, relishing in the shared thoughts and feelings about the night before. The three of you engaged in lively conversation, delving into the details of the memorable encounter. As the atmosphere remained light and playful, Steve and Bucky reluctantly acknowledged the ticking hands of time, signaling their departure.

"Doll, we’re going to have to leave," Bucky said, glancing at his watch.

"Okay," you nodded, your smile persisting. "Stay safe, you two."

"Always, sweetheart." Bucky kissed your forehead. "Now, why don't you get some more sleep?"

"I might do that." You smiled.

"Good." Steve planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"Come on, let's get going." Bucky urged, taking the lead as he walked toward the front door.

"See you later, sweetheart." Steve kissed your cheek before turning to follow his partner.

“Bye, boys." You waved, your smile lingering as you watched them walk out the door, leaving you to your own devices for the rest of the day.

Once alone, you headed back to the bedroom, crawling into bed and snuggling under the covers. Closing your eyes, you let sleep claim you, a content smile gracing your lips as dreams of Steve and Bucky danced through your head.

Last night was indeed the hottest night of your life.

What are your thoughts about the story? If you found it enjoyable, would you like me to pen a part 2? And if so, any ideas or suggestions for the next part?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #bucky x steve #bucky x steve x you #marvel x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes

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03jyh23 · 10 days ago

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🌷⌇hello future finding our way back part 17; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: none

│words: 8.1 k

│reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

hello, my lovely people! i know it's been a bit… okay, a lot… since the last update. life decided to throw a few confetti cannons of chaos my way, and i may have tripped over them a few times. but here we are! this chapter is finally out and ready to make its grand entrance.

thank you for waiting, for being patient, and for sticking around even when i vanished into the whirlwind. i hope this little chapter brings a smile, a giggle, or at least a "aw, that’s cute" moment.

as always,

love, mon ♡

p.s i'm writing a woosan spin-off — discovering us! please check it out!

│taglist: │ @seventeenthingsblr │@DALSUWAHA │

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│ @vixensss │ @all-fandoms-rise │ @finnydraws │

│ @jonghosbrainrot │ @ateezswonderland │ @stayatinykatsy

│@chickenscoups │ @ana-stasssiaaa │ @starryunho │

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│ if you wish to be tagged let me know here! ♡

‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎The sunlight poured in through the wall of windows, sharp and golden, spilling across the bare floor. You drew in a slow breath, the air tasting faintly of plaster and new paint, that unmistakable sharpness of a place untouched. No one had lived here before—no laughter echoing through these walls, no arguments, no marks on the floor where a chair once stood. It was blank, waiting. A clean page. And for a moment, you let yourself imagine it filled—your voices, your quiet mornings, the rhythm of a life not yet written. Starting fresh. Writing new stories. Building a place that was yours, not borrowed, not haunted by someone else's past.

Your gaze drifted to the window wall, to the backyard outside. It wasn't big, but there was space for something—plants, a swing for Nari, maybe even a small tree if you wanted. It had potential. Like the house itself. You pressed your hand against the glass, almost as if you could reach through it, into that future.

Jongho stood a little apart, shoulders squared but gaze softened, as though he too felt the weight of possibility pressing itself into the room. He didn't speak at first; only shifted slightly, his reflection faint and doubled in the glass, looking less like him and more like a promise of who he could be here. You caught his eyes in the glass, not directly but in the reflection, and he smiled. Just barely. Enough to make your chest loosen, enough to remind you this dream wasn't only yours.

The estate agent, still smiling with that well-practiced warmth, slipped toward the door with a soft click of heels. "I'll let you two soak up the house," she said, her voice as light as the dust drifting in the sun. "Let your imagination do its magic, and I'll be right back to hear your decision."

And then she was gone, leaving silence that seemed suddenly more profound, more personal, as though the walls themselves had turned toward you, listening.

Jongho's silence stretched, long enough that the golden warmth of the room began to feel heavier than comforting. You lowered your hand from the glass, turning to look at him. His gaze was fixed on the garden, brow drawn in thought, lips pressed into a line.

"Don't tell me you're not sure," you said, more sharply than you intended. The words slipped out too quick, tinged with the weariness of six other houses, of long car rides, of doors opened only to disappointment.

He glanced at you, surprised, but didn't answer right away.

You exhaled, crossing your arms. "It's the seventh one, Jongho. Seven." You moved to the large window, your fingers tracing the edge of the frame. "I think this is it," you said softly, turning to face him. "It feels right."

His jaw shifted as though he were about to speak, but he only ran a hand across the back of his neck. That small tell of his—hesitation, unease.

Jongho's brow furrowed deeper, and he made a small noise in the back of his throat. "I don't know," he said finally, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's... nice, but—"

"But what?" You tried to keep the exasperation from your voice.

"But maybe the kitchen is too small?" He gestured vaguely toward the adjacent room. "You know how much cooking we do. And what about storage space?" You pressed your lips together, watching him pace toward the center of the room. "And the bathroom situation," he continued, his words picking up speed. "There's only one and a half baths. What happens when Nari gets older? She'll need her own space. And what if we have another—" He stopped himself, clearing his throat. "You know. Hypothetically speaking."

You crossed your arms. "Are you seriously finding problems with the first place we both actually liked?"

"I'm not finding problems," he protested. "I'm being practical. What about a walk in closet? Where would we put that? And the yard—is it big enough for a dog? We always talked about getting a dog."

"We've never once talked about getting a dog."

He blinked. "Well, I've thought about it."

You narrowed your eyes, studying him. This wasn't about kitchens or bathrooms or hypothetical dogs. "Jongho," you said carefully, "what's really going on?"

Jongho ran a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at you. "I don't know. Maybe it's just… too small? Or maybe somethin's off I haven't noticed yet. I keep thinking about the kitchen, the storage, the bathrooms—"

"You're naming things just to name them," you said, exasperation creeping in. "You don't even sound like you care about the bathrooms right now."

He froze, then let out a half-laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe not. I just… I don't want us to regret it. I want it to be perfect."

"Perfect?" You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "No place is perfect. But this—this feels like ours. Don't you feel that?"

He sighed, shoulders sagging slightly. "I do, I think. It's just… big decisions make me… nervous."

You softened a little, though frustration still lingered. "We've been looking for weeks. We've seen empty houses, apartments, condos. And this one—this is the first place that works. That feels right. I can see our life here. Can't you?"

His gaze finally met yours, and for a second, the list of imagined flaws fell away. "I can," he admitted quietly. "I just… I worry too much. Always."

You smiled, shaking your head. "Always, huh? Well, this time, you can worry, but I'm moving forward. If you really care about us being happy here, then maybe we stop overthinking for one day."

He chuckled softly, finally letting some of his tension melt. "Okay. Maybe one day. But the dog—"

You groaned, laughing despite yourself. "Jongho."

"Just one more property. Please. Just to be sure," he said, voice quieter now, almost pleading. He leaned against the window frame, the sunlight catching the edges of his hair, casting soft gold highlights.

You crossed your arms, a faint smirk tugging at your lips despite the lingering frustration. "One more? We've seen six others already. And this one—" You gestured around the sunlit room, "This one feels right."

"I know," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes flicking to the kitchen again, then to the tiny patch of garden visible outside. "It just… what if there's something better? Something we'll regret not seeing?"

You stepped closer, the warmth of the room brushing against you both. "Or maybe we're looking for a reason to walk away because you're scared. Because big choices make you nervous, not because the house is wrong."

He looked at you then, and for a moment, the endless lists of bathrooms, kitchens, and imaginary dogs fell silent. "Maybe you're right," he admitted, voice soft, almost vulnerable.

You let out a slow breath, trying to hide the relief behind a mock sigh. "Fine. One more. But if it doesn't feel like this one, then we come back here. Deal?"

He smiled, that small, crooked smile that made your chest tighten. "Deal."

‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎The next property showcased a modern facade that blended seamlessly with the surrounding greenery. As you stepped through the front door, your breath caught—the entrance opened into a spacious living area bathed in natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Oh," you whispered, the single syllable hanging between you and Jongho, weighted with awe.

You followed the agent through the house in quiet wonder, each room revealing another perfect detail. The kitchen was expansive, with sleek countertops and an island large enough for both cooking and casual dining. Sunlight poured through skylights, dancing across the warm wooden cabinets and glinting off polished surfaces.

"Look at this," Jongho murmured, fingers trailing along the smooth countertop. "We could actually cook together without bumping into each other."

"And the backyard," you breathed, stepping through the glass doors into the yard. It was larger than the previous house's, a soft patch of green waiting for laughter and tiny footsteps. A tree in the corner promised cool shade on summer afternoons, with enough space for a swing—or even a small slide if you felt ambitious.

Jongho followed, eyes widening as he stepped onto the soft grass. His gaze softened, quiet awe etched in every line of his face. "This... this would work," he said, voice low, reverent. "Nari could play out here."

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest as his arm brushed yours, tentative yet grounding. "It's perfect," you said softly. "Spacious, sunny... everything we need." The air lightened, as if the house itself were exhaling with relief. For the first time in weeks of searching, you both stood in a house that didn't feel like a test or demand comparison. It felt like a beginning—a place where life could grow.

Jongho met your eyes, his hesitation gone, replaced with quiet certainty. "I think we found it," he said softly, reaching for your hand. The simple touch felt like an anchor, a promise that this wasn't just a house—it was going to be your home. Jongho's hand tightened around yours, and for a heartbeat the two of you simply stood there, letting the quiet hum of the house settle around you. Sunlight stretched across the floorboards like golden ribbons, spilling into corners that already felt alive with possibility.

You laughed softly, a sound edged with disbelief. "So this is it? After all the kitchens, the cramped bedrooms, the endless lists—you're actually saying yes?"

Jongho grinned, the expression bright and boyish in a way that made your chest ache. "I'm saying yes." He pulled you closer, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. "This feels right. This feels… ours."

Relief rushed through you, warm and dizzying. You leaned back just enough to see his face. "Good. Because I was ready to sign the papers myself and drag you along if I had to."

He chuckled, the sound low and fond. "I don't doubt it."

The backyard doors stood open, and a breeze drifted through, carrying the scent of grass and something faintly floral. You pictured Nari tumbling barefoot across that lawn, Jongho grilling on summer evenings, quiet mornings with sunlight spilling across the kitchen table. A life unfolding, room by room.

Jongho squeezed your hand again, more firmly this time. "Let's tell the agent," he said, voice steady now, full of certainty. "This is the one."

You exhaled a laugh, unable to stop smiling. "Finally."

And when you kissed him—just a quick, giddy press of lips in the middle of the sunlit living room—it felt like sealing a promise. Not just to the house, but to the future you were about to build together.

‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎The paperwork spread across the kitchen counter in crisp stacks, the estate agent's pen tapping lightly against the contract as she launched into her well-rehearsed monologue.

"Now, of course, we'll go over financing options. There are several mortgage plans available for young families, and with a competitive interest rate—"

"I'll pay in full," Jongho said casually, cutting her off as though he were ordering a coffee.

The pen stopped mid-tap. The agent blinked once, twice, her smile faltering. "I—I'm sorry?"

"In cash," he repeated, leaning forward to sign the document with a swift, fluid motion. "No mortgage necessary."

The silence that followed was almost comical. The agent's eyes darting to you as if to confirm she hadn't misheard.

You gave her a helpless shrug, then turned sharply toward Jongho, lowering your voice. "Excuse me—cash? You're dropping house money like it's pocket change?"

Jongho only smirked faintly, his expression infuriatingly calm. "You said you wanted it to feel like ours. No banks. No strings."

"Strings?" you hissed. "Jongho, most people can't pay for a car in cash, let alone—" You gestured wildly at the stack of contracts, the sheer number of zeroes on the page making your head spin. "—this."

The agent cleared her throat, attempting professionalism but clearly rattled. "Well. That certainly simplifies matters. We'll, ah, skip the mortgage packet, then." She shuffled papers a little too quickly, almost dropping a folder before catching it with a nervous laugh.

You pressed a hand to your forehead. "I can't believe you."

"Why make things complicated?"

You shot him a look, muttering, "You're unbelievable."

The agent slid the final stack of papers across the counter, her nails clicking softly against the folder. "And here," she said, cheerful and efficient, "both of you sign, and the house is yours."

Both of you.

The pen felt too heavy in your hand, its black barrel suddenly unfamiliar. You stared down at the line waiting for your name, neat and expectant.

"I…" The word caught, and you set the pen down quickly, almost guiltily. "I can't sign this."

Jongho's head snapped up. "What?"

You gestured at the contract, at his already bold signature inked firmly across the page. "This is yours, Jongho. You should be the only one on paper. I don't have savings. I don't have… anything. You just dropped the whole price in cash like it was nothing, and I—" Your voice cracked, heat rushing up your neck. "I can't claim something I didn't earn."

The agent blinked, lips parting as though to speak, but then seemed to think better of it and busied herself with shuffling papers that didn't need shuffling.

Jongho's eyes narrowed slightly. Then, softly, "You think you haven't earned this?"

You flinched. "Of course not. It's your money. Your house."

He leaned forward, forearms braced on the table, gaze fixed and unyielding. "It's not my house. It's our home. And if you honestly believe you haven't earned the right to be on that deed…" He paused, his throat working as though the words were heavier than he expected. "Then you're not giving yourself enough credit."

Your chest tightened, words spilling out before you could stop them. "Credit? Jongho, you're the one who works, who makes all this possible. I don't bring money, or stability. I can't even—"

"You carried my daughter," Jongho cut in, voice suddenly fierce. His hand closed over yours on the table, grounding, steady. "You raised her for four years. On your own. Do you have any idea what that means to me?"

You blinked at him, throat tight.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, gentling again. "And then you let me back into your lives. You trusted me enough to love me again, to let me love you both. That's not worth a signature?" He shook his head slowly, eyes soft but unflinching. "You've given me a family. A life I didn't know I could have. If anyone's earned their name on this paper, it's you."

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions, until the agent cleared her throat delicately, as though reminding you both she was still, unfortunately, present.

Your cheeks burned, but Jongho only smiled faintly, never looking away from you.

"Sign it," he murmured, nudging the pen back toward you. "For me. Please. I don't want a house that only has my name. That's not how this works. That's not how we work."

Your hand trembled as you picked up the pen again, but this time it wasn't from doubt. Your name flowed onto the page beside his, letters inked with all the weight of his words, all the warmth of his conviction.

When you finally set the pen down, Jongho's shoulders relaxed, a small, private smile tugging at his lips as though the paper in front of you had suddenly become the most important thing he'd ever owned.

Not the house.

You. Nari. The three of you. Together.

The agent exhaled like she'd been holding her breath through the whole exchange. "Congratulations," she said, voice wobbling faintly as she collected the paperwork. "That was… very moving."

You laughed shakily, dabbing at your eyes. "Sorry. Didn't mean to make this awkward."

Jongho just squeezed your, voice warm with quiet triumph. "Not awkward. Perfect."

‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎The click of the agent's heels faded down the hallway, leaving the two of you alone with nothing but a neat stack of papers and a jangling set of keys between you.

You stared at them—ordinary keys, silver teeth glinting under the light—and felt your stomach flip. "That's it?" you whispered. "Just like that… it's ours?"

Jongho leaned back in his chair, a slow grin tugging at his lips. "That's it." He slid the keys across the counter with one finger until they rested in front of you. "We actually own it now."

You picked them up gingerly, as though they might vanish if you held them too tight. The cool metal pressed into your palm, sharp and real. "We own a house," you breathed, your voice climbing higher, breaking on a laugh. "We own an actual damn house."

Jongho chuckled, his shoulders finally loosening after days of tension. "You sound surprised."

"I am surprised!" you shot back, pressing the keys to your chest. "Do you have any idea how unreal this feels? It feels like yesterday we were eating takeout on the floor of your old practise room, and now—now we own windows taller than me and a garden with a tree."

He tilted his head, amused, watching you spiral with a softness that made your chest ache. "You're adorable when you're overwhelmed."

You pointed the keys at him, mock-threatening. "Don't you dare act calm about this. You just dropped a mountain of cash like you were ordering coffee. You don't get to be calm."

Jongho laughed, the sound low and unguarded. In one fluid motion he tugged you into his arms, spinning you once. The room tilted, your breath catching in your throat.

"We did it," he said against your hair, his voice rough but steady. "We really did it."

Something in you cracked then, not with fear but with joy so sharp it stung your eyes. You buried your face in his chest, clutching at his shirt as though you could hold the moment still. "We have a home," you whispered.

His arms tightened around you. "Yeah,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Our home. For you, for me, for Nari… for everything that comes next."

The words settled deep inside you, heavier than the papers, warmer than the sunlight waiting in those wide windows. You pulled back just enough to see him, his smile softer now, almost shy.

And for the first time, it wasn't about hoping or imagining. It was about knowing.

This wasn't just a house.

It was the beginning of your forever.

‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎You still hadn't let go of the keys. They dangled from your fingers as you and Jongho stepped out into the late afternoon sun, the weight of them pulling at your hand like an anchor to reality.

"Feels different already, doesn't it?" you murmured, sliding your sunglasses on as you headed toward the car. "Like the air tastes better now that it's ours."

Jongho smirked, opening your door before circling around to the driver's side. "That's just relief," he teased. "You've been holding your breath ever since our first house viewing."

You buckled in, still staring at the keys in your lap, and let out a laugh that was part giddy, part disbelieving. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just drunk on paperwork."

He started the car, fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel, his expression caught somewhere between satisfied and hesitant. "Well… now comes the hardest part."

You blinked, snapping your head toward him. "The hardest part? We just bought a house. What could possibly be hardest?"

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, lips twitching. "Telling my hyungs I'm moving out."

For a moment you just stared at him—then burst out laughing, loud enough that someone walking their dog on the sidewalk turned to look. "That's your hardest part? Jongho, you just dropped a small fortune in cash like you were buying gum. But no, this is the part you're dreading?"

"They'll never let me live it down," he said gravely, though his ears were already turning pink. "Do you know what Wooyoung's going to do with this information? He's going to make at least a hundred jokes about me turning into a ‘domestic ahjussi.’"

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying—and failing—to stop laughing. "Oh my god, he is! He's going to buy you an apron. Maybe matching oven mitts."

"Don't give him ideas," Jongho muttered, pulling out of the driveway. "He doesn't need encouragement."

You leaned back against the seat, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. "What about Hongjoong? He'll probably give you a lecture about ‘financial responsibility’ while secretly crying that his youngest grew up."

Jongho groaned, low and dramatic. "And Yeosang will act supportive but then text me fifty listings for furniture sets I didn't ask for."

You clutched the keys to your chest, choking on laughter. "This is amazing. You're terrified of them like they're your parents."

"They're worse than parents," he said flatly. "Parents don't hold grudges about stupid things for ten years. Do you know how long Yunho still teases me about that one time I tripped onstage? Years."

You were nearly doubled over now, wiping at your eyes. "So what you're saying is… the worst part of buying a house isn't the money, the paperwork, the responsibility—it's group chat chaos."

He shot you a pained look, but you could see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Exactly. You understand."

"I can't wait," you said, voice still bubbling with laughter. "I can't wait to sit there with popcorn while you tell them you're officially moving out. In fact, I think we should film it. For posterity."

"No," Jongho said quickly, too quickly, gripping the wheel as if bracing for impact. "Absolutely not."

"Yes," you teased, leaning close to nudge his shoulder. "If I survived weeks of house hunting with you, I've earned the right to watch you squirm a little."

He groaned again, but this time it dissolved into a laugh, low and unguarded. "You're cruel."

"And yet," you said, jingling the keys with a victorious little shake, "you still bought me a house."

His laugh softened into a grin, eyes flicking toward you before returning to the road. "Yeah," he murmured. "Guess I did."

The car hummed along, sunlight spilling across the dashboard, and for the first time this week, the weight of decision was gone. All that was left was the joy of it—bright and ridiculous and entirely yours.

"So," Jongho began, glancing at you with a perfectly feigned look of suspicion, eyebrows raised as if interrogating a suspect, "we need to discuss the furniture."

You groaned theatrically, flopping back against the passenger seat, the leather warm beneath your arm. "Furniture? We just signed the papers. Can't we bask in the glory of owning a house for at least... five more minutes?"

He smirked, one hand on the wheel, sunlight catching the curve of his jaw. "Five minutes? I was thinking we could swing by that furniture store tomorrow—the one with huge couch section."

"Already planning to replace the couch?" you teased, tipping your head, hair falling into your eyes. "What's wrong with mine?"

"Nothing, if you like every sitting session ending with your spine filing a formal complaint," he replied, deadpan. He changed lanes with a smooth flick of his hand, the engine humming beneath you.

You gasped, clutching your chest in mock offense. "That couch has survived two apartments, lots of diapers changing, and one very memorable spill of red wine! It's loyal."

"Loyal doesn't mean comfortable," he countered, eyes briefly meeting yours, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And the coffee table—mine's definitely coming."

"The one that cost more than my car?" You laughed, the sound bright in the car. "Naturally. We might need a spreadsheet just to track what stays and what goes."

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, pretending to consider this. "Actually... color-coded spreadsheets could work. Green for 'keep,' red for 'banish,' yellow for 'negotiate.'"

"Oh my god, you're such a nerd," you said, elbowing him playfully. "Fine. But I'm keeping my reading chair."

"That hideous green thing? It clashes with everything."

"It's vintage! I thrifted it!" you shot back, hands on your hips, leaning toward him like a general defending territory.

"It's the color of something that went bad in the fridge," he said, eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Says the man who owns fifteen identical black hoodies."

"They're not identical! Different brands, different cuts—"

"Different prices, I'm sure," you interrupted, smirking. "And speaking of which, what are we going to do with your obsessive collection of designer clothes? That closet we saw isn't big enough for your shoes alone."

Jongho threw you a mock-offended glance. "I don't have that many shoes!"

"You have more shoes than I have items of clothing, period," you replied. "And don't get me started on Nari's toys. We'll need a separate room just for her stuffed animals."

"She needs those! They all have names!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I can't believe I'm about to share a house with not one, but two hoarders. A designer-clothes hoarder and a plushie hoarder."

He shot you a sidelong look, lips twitching. "At least my hoarding is fashionable."

"Those Gucci slippers were not fashionable. That was a cry for help."

"They were limited edition!" he protested, voice strangled with faux indignation.

"Hideous," you declared, then added innocently, "we could always paint a wall in the living room to match them. Bright red, logos and all."

Jongho's horror-struck expression made you dissolve into laughter. "Absolutely not," he said firmly. "Neutral walls. Clean. Elegant."

"Boring," you corrected. "Accent wall. Bedroom. Bold. Something we'll both love."

He drummed his fingers on the wheel. "...What color?"

"Deep blue, or that rich green—not like my chair," you added quickly, anticipating his protest. "Darker. Sophisticated. Adulting style."

Jongho hummed thoughtfully. "I could live with that. As long as it's not neon or something Hongjoong would choose."

"Deal," you said, holding out your hand like a truce. He took it, gave it a quick squeeze, then returned to the wheel.

"And the kitchen?" he asked, eyes narrowing playfully. "Because I am not giving up my espresso machine."

"As if I'd get in the way of caffeine," you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "But I'm keeping my mismatched mug collection."

"Even the one shaped like a toilet?"

"Especially that one. Conversation starter."

Jongho sighed, shaking his head, though his eyes sparkled. "Our house is going to look like a designer showroom collided with a thrift store—and exploded into a toy store."

"Exactly," you said, nudging him gently. "But it'll be our mess."

"Yeah. Our mess."

You nudged him with a grin. "Well, now we'll need to find a new hobby, since our weekend house hunting is over."

Jongho raised an eyebrow. "I've got a list. Painting lessons? Hiking? Cooking classes?"

"How about something more exciting?" you suggested. "Like skydiving?"

"After we just bought a house?" He laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not risking my life when I've finally got my life together." He glanced over at you with that wry, half-grin. "Though maybe we could try rock climbing at that new indoor place. Just as thrilling, marginally less deadly."

Just as you were about to respond, he eased the car off the main road, turning into the familiar entrance of your apartment complex. The tires crunched lightly over the gravel as he pulled into a parking spot, the engine settling into silence as he cut it off.

"Home sweet home," you said, though the words felt different now—temporary, transitional. This place that had been your sanctuary for years was soon to be just a memory.

Jongho looked over at you, his expression softening. "For now," he added, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "We've got a lot of packing ahead of us."

You groaned dramatically, letting your head fall back against the headrest. "Don't remind me. I have no idea how I accumulated so much stuff in such a small space."

"I can't believe I'll be leaving this place in the past in just a few more days," you sighed, taking in the sight before you—the playground where Nari played after school, the sidewalk where you'd walked a thousand times, the small garden the building manager stubbornly tried to keep alive every summer.

Jongho followed your gaze, his expression softening. "Having second thoughts?"

"No," you said, surprising yourself with how quickly the answer came. "Just... preparing myself for goodbye, I guess. This place saw me through some stuff."

He nodded, understanding without you having to explain. "We can take our time. Moving doesn't have to be all at once."

"I know," you said, reaching for his hand across the console. "But I'm ready. For our place. Not just mine, not just yours."

He squeezed your fingers, his smile small but certain. "Ours. I like the sound of that."

Jongho leaned across the console, one hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, his eyes remained on yours, thumb grazing your skin.

"My mom is upstairs," you said, voice quieter than you intended, "She drove Nari back from hers and…" You hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, a small heat rising to your cheeks. "Do you… want to come upstairs? To introduce yourself?"

Jongho's eyes widened, "What? Now? Like—right now?"

"Yes, now," you laughed, watching his composure crack. "We just bought a house together. I think it's time you met my mom properly."

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it slightly disheveled. "But I'm not... I didn't prepare anything. I should have brought flowers or something nice or—" His eyes darted to his reflection in the rearview mirror. "Is my hair okay? What am I wearing? This isn't meeting-the-mother attire."

You bit your lip to hold back your laughter. "You look fine. You literally did a magazine photoshoot yesterday."

"That's different!" he protested, checking his shirt for invisible wrinkles. "That's work. This is... this is your mom. What if she hates me? What if she thinks I'm not good enough for you?"

"The famous Choi Jongho, nervous about meeting someone?" you teased, poking his arm. "I've never seen you this flustered before. It's kind of adorable."

He shot you a pained look. "This is serious. I should at least have a gift. We should reschedule. I'll come back tomorrow with flowers and—"

"She already knows we're here," you said, waving your phone. "I texted her when we pulled up. She's excited to meet you."

Jongho's eyes widened further. "You what? That's—that's ambush tactics!"

"It's just my mom," you laughed, unbuckling your seatbelt. "The woman who still has my embarrassing baby photos and tells everyone about the time I got my head stuck in the stair railings. Trust me, you're not the one who should be nervous here."

"But—"

"But nothing," you said firmly, though your eyes were soft with amusement. "We just bought a house. Meeting my mom is the easy part."

He took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders like he was preparing for battle. "Fine. But if this goes badly, I'm blaming you entirely."

"Noted," you said, unable to hide your smile as you watched him fuss with his collar one last time. You pushed the car door open and stepped out into the warm afternoon air, stretching slightly after the drive. Before you could close the door behind you, Jongho was already there, having hurried around the front of the car. He shut your door with a gentle click, then offered his hand to you with a small, nervous smile.

"Ready, housemate?"

Jongho froze, "Housemate?!" His voice was a mix of outrage and disbelief. "Housemate? We just bought a house, and you—"

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. "Ain't no ring on my finger, Mr. Choi!" you teased, waving your hand in front of him like evidence in court. "Technically, I could have anyone moving in with me. You just... lucked out."

His eyes widened, jaw dropping in horror. "Luck? This is not luck! I'm not—housemate? That's... that's... worse than roommate status! I'm supposed to be your—our—this is supposed to be official!"

You shook your head, still laughing, enjoying the absolute meltdown playing out before you. "Official, huh? You mean like legally married? Or at least... socially recognized? Sorry, we skipped that part. We went straight from 'hello again' to 'houseowners.'"

Jongho threw his hands up, pacing a tiny circle in the elevator. "This is—this is absurd!”

"Tragic order, I tell you. You left me pregnant, then came storming back, we buy a house without a ring, and now…"

"Now—I meet your mom as a housemate?!"

You leaned against the wall, trying not to laugh too hard, savoring every flustered, panicked movement of the man who was usually so controlled. "Exactly. I'm telling you tragic order, Mr. Choi. Welcome to reality."

He planted his hands on his hips, chest puffed out as though standing this way might restore some dignity. "This is chaos! Pure chaos! I demand a recount, a redo of—of life events! Where's the ceremonial entrance? The grandeur? The—"

"Right after house buying, apparently," you said, snickering. "I like to live dangerously."

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Dangerously? This is emotional anarchy! I'm supposed to be a functioning adult, not—"

"Flustered like this?" You reached out to poke his shoulder lightly. "Yes. Cute. Definitely cute. Just saying."

He peeked at you through his fingers, eyes wide and incredulous. "Cute? I am outraged! Outraged and humiliated! A housemate?! Really? No ring, and I'm reduced to housemate status?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Ain't no ring on my finger! That's why it's funny."

His jaw dropped, and he flopped back against the wall as if the weight of your words might physically crush him. "This is unfair! I demand a redo of life events! Where's the respect, the protocol, the—"

"Sorry," you said, grinning, "I lost the manual somewhere between the pregnancy, the house, and your career detour. Welcome to the real world."

The elevator pinged cheerfully, announcing your arrival with perfect timing. Jongho was mid-rant, his face flushed with indignation as he followed you out into the hallway.

"I can't believe this. We bought a house together, and you're calling me a housemate?" He ran a hand through his hair, sending it into further disarray. "Is that what you want? A ring? Because I swear—"

You rummaged through your bag, patting down your pockets with increasing frustration. "I can't find my keys," you muttered, digging deeper into your purse. "I think I left them inside."

You barely knocked before Jongho stepped in front of you, blocking your path with a sudden intensity that made your breath catch. The teasing smile on his face had morphed into something more determined.

"You want a ring? Is that it?" His voice dropped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. "Should I just drop to one knee right here? Right now?"

Your eyes widened as he actually started to lower himself in the hallway. "Jongho! I was joking! Get up, my mom is—"

The apartment door swung open.

"—I would prefer you ask for my blessing first before doing that," came your mother's voice from the doorway, one eyebrow raised as she took in the scene before her.

Jongho froze mid-kneel, his face draining of all color before flushing a deep crimson. He looked like a statue caught in the most awkward position imaginable—not quite standing, not fully kneeling, just suspended in a moment of pure embarrassment.

"I—Mrs.—I wasn't—This isn't—" he stammered, voice cracking like a teenager's.

"Daddy!"

A small blur shot out from behind your mother's legs, launching itself directly at the still-crouching Jongho. Nari collided with him with the full force of her four-year-old enthusiasm, sending him toppling backward onto the hallway floor with a startled "Oof!"

You couldn't breathe from laughing, "Oh my god, baby daddy number one! You've been claimed!"

Your mother looked from Jongho sprawled on the floor to you, her eyebrows raised in a perfect arch, "So this is him?" She took in the whole chaotic scene—Jongho pinned beneath an ecstatic Nari, you doubled over laughing—and shook her head with a knowing smile. "Well," she said, crouching to ruffle Nari's hair, "you survived the hug attack. Not bad for a first impression, baby daddy number one."

Jongho groaned, muffled under Nari's enthusiastic grip. "I… I'm not sure I'll ever get up again!"

You managed to pull him to a sitting position, still giggling. "See? This is exactly what I meant by tragic order. Houses before rings, chaos before introductions."

Your mom chuckled, her eyes warm with amusement. "Welcome to the family, Jongho. I'd say this is quite the entrance already—half-proposal in the hallway and ambushed by a four-year-old. We can save the formal ceremony for another day."

Jongho didn't flinch when Nari barreled into him, nearly knocking him over. He scooped her up in one fluid motion, laughing as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"Daddy, guess what?" she squealed. "Grandma let me have two cookies!"

"Two?" Jongho widened his eyes in mock horror. "That's illegal. You're supposed to share one with me."

Nari giggled, hiding her face against his shoulder. "You're too slow."

"Too slow?" He gasped, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'll remember that next time you want me to push you on the swings."

The two of them dissolved into easy laughter, as they always did, and the sight made your chest ache in the best way. Jongho wasn't tentative with her anymore—no careful steps, no lingering nerves. Just natural, instinctive love.

Your mom watched the exchange quietly, her sharp gaze softening despite herself. "Well," she said, crossing her arms, "at least she's comfortable with you."

Jongho turned, Nari still perched on his hip like she belonged there, and gave a respectful bow. His voice was steadier now, though you could see the nerves flickering beneath. "It's good to finally meet you, ma'am. I've heard a lot about you."

"Mm," your mom hummed, narrowing her eyes with just enough mischief to make him squirm. "I've heard plenty about you too. Jury's still out."

"Mom," you hissed, though you were biting back a smile.

But Jongho only nodded, swallowing hard. "That's fair. I'll earn it."

Something in your mom's expression flickered—approval, perhaps, though she hid it well as she stepped aside to let you all in.

Nari tugged at Jongho's sleeve, her eyes shining as she turned to your mom. "Grandma, do you know Daddy can sing? Like, really really sing?"

Your mom raised an eyebrow, though her mouth curved faintly at the corners. "I've heard a rumor or two."

"Sing for her Daddy!" Nari insisted, bouncing on her toes. "Please? The song you always sing for me at bedtime!"

Jongho froze, caught between pride and sheer horror. His gaze darted to you, as if begging for rescue, but Nari's expectant grin left him no escape.

With a sigh that sounded more like surrender than reluctance, he crouched down, brushed a strand of hair from Nari's forehead, and started softly. His voice filled the small apartment—rich, warm, unshakable even without a microphone. The familiar lullaby wrapped around the room, threading through the air like sunlight through curtains.

Your mom's hand stilled on the teapot, eyes flicking up to watch him. She said nothing, but you caught the tiniest shift in her expression—a softening that even she couldn't disguise.

When Jongho finished, Nari clapped like he'd just performed a stadium encore. "See Grandma? He's the best!" she declared, beaming up at her grandmother.

Your mom chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, I can't argue with that voice." She set the teapot down firmly. "But let's save the concerts for later. Come, sit. Let's eat before the food gets cold. Then we'll have a proper talk."

The three of you settled at the table, Nari happily arranging her stuffed bunny in the chair beside her. Jongho sat straighter than you'd ever seen, like he was bracing for battle.

Nari was busy feeding a grain of rice to her stuffed bunny, humming to herself, while the adults sat in the low, buzzing quiet of the table. Your mom's gaze stayed fixed on Jongho, steady and appraising, though her tone remained even.

Your mom leaned back, arms crossing. "Alright. Let me ask it plain. What are your intentions with my daughter?"

You groaned, nearly burying your face in your hands. "Mom—"

But Jongho's answer came without hesitation. "To love her. To take care of her. To build a life with her. To make sure she never has to doubt me." His voice was low but sure, each word deliberate.

"So," she said, stirring her tea lazily. "You talk about taking care of them. That sounds nice, but life isn't all lullabies and new houses. What happens when things get hard? What's your plan then?"

Jongho didn't falter. "Then I stay. I communicate. I work harder. I don't run." His eyes flicked to you, then back to her. "'I'm here for all of it—good and bad."

Your mom raised her brows, but didn't break eye contact. "And what about your career? All those stages, cameras, fans. You can't exactly call in sick because your kid has the flu."

He nodded slowly. "You're right. My career is demanding. But I've learned how to choose my priorities. Nari and—" he glanced at you again, softer this time, "—your daughter will always come first."

For a moment, the room was still except for the faint clink of Nari's spoon against her plate.

Your mom studied him for another long beat before exhaling, the tension finally melting from her shoulders. Then she smiled—bright, warm, the kind of smile that had always felt like home.

"Good," she said simply. "I like you."

Jongho blinked, startled, his hand tightening slightly on his lap.

"I admire your hard work," she continued, her tone softer now, almost teasing. "You're steady, you've got a good head on your shoulders, and clearly, Nari adores you. That's enough proof for me."

Then she leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "And as for all those questions? Well, I had to act like a tough parent, didn't I? Got to make sure you take me seriously. Respect's important."

Her laughter bubbled out, warm and genuine, and the heaviness of the moment broke into something lighter. She reached across the table, patting Jongho's hand. "But really—welcome to the family. Eat, before I start asking more embarrassing questions.”

The evening wound down with laughter and the clatter of dishes. Nari crawled into Jongho's lap halfway through dessert and refused to budge. Your mom's earlier interrogation gave way to lighthearted chatter and stories about your childhood—much to your embarrassment and Jongho's delight.

By the time the clock ticked past Nari's bedtime, her head had slumped onto Jongho's shoulder, heavy with sleep. He carried her to her room without a word, tucking her in with practiced ease. You stood in the doorway, watching as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before gently slipping her favorite stuffed bunny into the crook of her arm.

When he straightened, his eyes met yours, and for a moment the weight of everything unspoken pressed between you—gratitude, love, and the quiet relief of finally being seen as a family by your mom.

Back in the entryway, Jongho bent to put on his shoes. Your mom lingered, arms crossed but smiling warmly. "Drive safe," she said. Then, softer: "And don't forget what you promised me tonight."

"I won't," Jongho replied with a respectful bow. "Thank you—for trusting me."

She waved him off with a laugh. "Go on before I get sentimental. I've had enough emotions for one evening."

Your mom dissapeared into the kitchen, and Jongho lingered by the door, shifting on his feet like he didn't quite want to leave yet. He leaned closer, his voice low, meant only for you.

"Thank you… for today."

Before you could answer, he bent down and pressed a quick, warm peck against your lips. The contact was fleeting, almost shy, but it left your skin tingling and your chest tight.

"Goodnight," he murmured, stepping back with a smile that was half-nervous, half-adoring. "I'll head to the dorm, start packing. And then…" His lips quirked, eyes glinting with mischief. "Then I get to face the hyungs."

You laughed softly. "Scary, huh?"

He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Scary's not the word. More like... loud. You know they won't let me live this down. Hongjoong is the only one who knows I wanted to buy a house, but I didn't tell him we actually started searching for one. Wooyoung will demand every single detail, and Seonghwa will probably sit me down for a full lecture on responsibility."

"Don't worry. They'll only tease you for the rest of your life."

"Comforting," he muttered, but his eyes shone. He gave you one last look—mischievous and tender all at once—before slipping out into the night.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

#jongho x reader #jonhgo x you #jongho series #jongho fanfic #jongho fanfiction #ateez #jongho fluff #choi jongho #jongho #jongho ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez fanfic #ateez x female reader #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #jongho x y/n #finding our way back series #ateez x you

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shanesevikasfuckdoll · 7 months ago

Text

Getting drunk with Grayson 🎀

Imagine, getting drunk with Sheriff Grayson 👮🏽‍♀️❤️

Warning: Slight nsfw, Reader is a total hornbag, Grayson is smoking hot

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

You and Grayson have been working hard all week on a case you've been working at. There were reports of thieves that lurked around at night, and went into people's homes. They suspect that the thief was actually from Piltover, and the council did not like that.

You and Grayson walked to the councilors to discuss the matter. They all looked at Grayson to hear her updates on the case. Councilor Medarda spoke, "Well, Sheriff, is there any news about this case?" She asked Grayson, looking down on her. Councilor Hoskel scoffed. "Those filthy undercity brats. How hard is it to find these guys?! Maybe you're just not doing your job well!" He accused, you hated these meetings, you hated going to the councils, but you know it's your duty. Grayson clears her throat, "Who ever these thieves are, aren't just common knuckleheads you find in the under city. No. They're alot more calculated, and the equiptment they used to break in one of the houses was only euqiptment found here. The guards on the bridge did not report anyone cross the night the incident occured."

The councilors scoffed at Grayson, and you held her pinky, to sooth her, while looking down on the floor. Councilor Salo scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Well? Do something about it, that's your job, double the guards if you have to!—" He exclaims. Miss Medarda eyes him, and she sighs, "I want this case dealt with. Immedietly. I don't care what you need to do, but people in Piltover are getting worried by the minute. We cannot have that, understand?" She asks. You and Grayson just look to the floor, "Yes, we understand." And with that, you both left.

When you got out, you look visibly pissed, and rightfully so. The whole week, you and Grayson worked hard. You rarely went home anymore, you both just sleeped on the couch in her office and only went home one at a time to get supplies, like food, toothpaste, instant coffee, you literally worked day an night.

This went on for a couple more days, until finally, you catch them, and out them in Stillwater. When that finally happened, you and Grayson took a few days off, rightfully so, and only did your paperwork at home.

"God, we're finally home, but we're still working" You joke, as you hand Grayson her coffee. She smiled softly at your joke, before turning to face her computer screen again. "I know darling, and I'm sorry. Once we finish this work tonight, how about you and me get a drink?" She offers. You were playfully taken aback, dramatically looking shocked, as you out a hond on your chest, and one faceing Grayson. "Ah! Officer~ Are you asking me out on a date?" You ask, playfully, and she takes your hand to kiss it. She chuckles at you, "Why yes, my dove. Will you go out with me?" ahe asks, as she pulls you onto her lap, so she can kiss your neck. You giggle at eachother, and you pull back to kiss her face.

Work still wasn't easy, even at home, but after a couple hours, you finally finished it all. "Yes! I'm all done for the week, baby look!" You call Grayson, and proudly show her your finished work. She smiles, and kisses your forehead. "That sounds wonderfull, my dear. I'm about to finish up, how about you get in the shower, and start getting ready, okay? Once I'm done, I'll join you, and we can bathe together." You eagerly took her up on that offer, running in the bathroom, as Grayson scolds you a little bit as you do, "Don't run, my love, you might fall!"

You take a nice hot shower, and Grayson joined you halfway through it. She shampooed your hair, worshipped your body, planted kissess in your face, and with that, you feel all the happiness in the world. And suddenly, the weeks of hard work were worth it, if it meant getting to do this with your wife as a reward. You scrub and massage her back, she was visibly tense, but loosened up a little bit. When you both got out, Greyson put on a tan shirt, and jeans, with white shoes. She looks absolutely hot, you can see her muscles filling in her shirt. God, you are so lucky to have married that woman.

You wore whatever u want, (make it appropriate, you're gonna be naked later anyways) You looked absolutely amazing. You wore the necklace Grayson gifted you for your anniversary, and she looked absolutely mesmerized by you. "Like what you see?" You tease her. She chuckled, and reached for your hand. "M'lady" She says, with a little curtsy. You giggle at her, and give her your hand, and she kisses your knuckles. She bring you to the car, and opens the door for you, "My dear, what a gentleman~" You say to her with a wink. and she gets on the driver's seat.

You both get to the bar, it was a calm atmosphere, and Grayson orders you both drinks. You just look at her with a smile, you can't believe this hot sexy woman was truly yours. She notices, and teases you, "enjoying the view?" She nudges you, and you roll your eyes. The beautiful atmosphere of the city, with your most beloved.

When the drinks came, you and Grayson teased, and flirted with each other all night, like you two weren't already a married couple. Grayson is surprisingly good at holding her alcohol. Ater a couple drinks, she wasn't even fazed, she was just calm, and less tensed. "Hmm, we needed this, didn't we?" You say to her, and she looked a little guilty for not doing this with you sooner. "Yes my love, but 'm glad we get to unwind now." She softly smiles at you, and tucks your hair behind your ear. "You look beautiful tonight, my love." She looks at you, she has perfect eye contact. Her finger circling the rim of her glass. You were visibly red now, the alcohol, and Grayson's flirty and deep voice. You're getting kind of hornier by each drink.

"Hon..." You say, she looks confused and a little worried now, "dear? Are you drunk? do you want to go home—" "I want you to fuck me, Grayson." You cut her off. She's visibly surprised, and confused, but her expression quickly changes to something a little darker. She stands up, and reaches for your hand, which you immedietly give. "Let's go home then." She gestures for you to get uo, and she makes her way to her car. She opens the door for you like the gentleman she is, and when she gets in the driver's seat, you immedietly pulls you into a kiss that turns into a makeout session.

"You taste so good, my love." She lets out low moans in the kiss. You smile, and slightly pull away to answer. "Mhm, better be, that's your money." You tease, your breaths so potent with alcohol, you kind of get a little more drunk, the more you kiss her. Your clothes, and hair all messy. You take your top off to reveal your bralette. She pulls away to catch her breath, as she admires the view. and kisses your forehead. "Let's continue this at home, shall we?" You nod, and agree, and get off from her lap, to sit next to her while she drives, and she puts a hand on your leg once in awhile, when she's not using it.

Once you both get home, let's just say she fulfills all your wishes that night. ❤️

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I'm sorry, but HAVE YOU SEEN GRAYSON ON THAT GIF?! Ahem... I kinda wanna be that cup on the GIF, I'm so jealous. 🙄

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honeyhaeya · 4 months ago

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(2/2)🖇 ༘ ⋆"Moved On Not "

' ╰┈ 'if the sun refused to shine, baby, would i still be your lover? would you want me there?"

' .☘︎ ݁˖' '연준 x f!reader

🎧ྀི 'ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : intro (Ariana Grande)

♫⋆₊˚ ﾟ. 'ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre / tags: fluff, smut, emotional tension, friends to lovers, teasing & possessive!yeonjun, intense makeouts, lap-sitting, domestic moments, long build-up, jealousy, banter, soft aftercare, sunrise sex ੈ✩‧₊˚ warnings: NSFW WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT ! explicit language, emotionally vulnerable scenes, jealousy themes, minor angst (resolved), tension from miscommunication, reader is bold, story contains mature themes, recording of sex ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗ nsfw warnings: porn with little plot (AT LEAST) - oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), praise kink, hair pulling, neck kissing/biting, dirty talk, soft dom!yeonjun, riding, creampie implied, overstimulation, light marking (hickeys), possessiveness (you’re mine energy), emotionally charged sex, aftercare (wiping, cuddling, forehead kisses), clingy!yeonjun post-sex, reader takes control at times, riding, mirror sex, recording kink. ✩‧₊˚ wc: 7348ੈ ੈ♡ a/n: i've decided this would be the last chapter. a big boo for me, i'll accept that, but i still have a ton of shit works i need to update and post here on tumblr. 2/2 chapters ! MAKE SURE TO READ PART 1 BABES ! and i'm rlly sorry for the mixed-up typings where some parts are detailed, while other are lowercased. i wrote this in different times and places, hope it doesnt bother you much. ENJOY THOUGH !

You woke up to soft lips brushing along your bare shoulder, the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to your sheets.

“Morning,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with sleep and adoration.

You hummed, eyes still shut. “You're still here?”

“Where else would I be?” he asked, like it was the dumbest question in the world.

That was the beginning of everything.

Your first actual date wasn’t some candlelit dinner—no, Yeonjun took you on a spontaneous late-night drive to the city’s highest parking garage. The skyline shimmered below, but he only looked at you.

“Look at the view,” you whispered.

“I am,” he said, already leaning in.

You made out for twenty minutes in the backseat of his car, half-undressed, your lipstick smudged on his jaw, your leg thrown over his lap as his hands wandered like he was memorizing you.

“I like kissing you,” he confessed, breathless.

“I noticed.”

Date two? Arcade.

You beat him in air hockey. Twice.

“You’re cheating,” he accused, arms around your waist as you doubled over laughing.

“Maybe you just suck.”

“You wanna suck something else, baby?”

You smacked him with a plushie he won for you. It was a frog. You named it “Junnie.”

The cuddles were the most dangerous part.

After movie nights, you’d fall asleep tangled together on the couch. Yeonjun would always stay just a little longer than necessary. Kiss your hair. Whisper dumb things like “you smell like home” and “I think I’m addicted to you.”

One night, you didn’t let him go.

“Just stay,” you mumbled into his chest.

He did. He always would.

And somewhere between tangled sheets, shared playlists, the way he kissed you mid-laugh, and the way he always held your hand like he was scared to lose you—

You realized it wasn’t just lust. Not anymore.

You were falling.

Hard.

And so was he.

It started when you posted a selfie.

Just a simple one. New gloss, cute top, a subtle “feeling pretty” caption. But your DMs blew up. Including one from some dude from high school.

Yeonjun saw it. He was across the room. You didn’t even realize until you caught him sulking on the couch, arms crossed, lips pouting, jaw tight.

“You okay?” you asked, flopping beside him.

“No,” he said bluntly. “Why is Namjoon from math class calling you ‘gorgeous’ under your pic? Should I fight him?”

You choked. “What?”

He turned to face you, leaning in close. Too close. “Do I not tell you enough? Do I need to remind you?”

You grinned. “You sound jealous.”

“I am.” His voice dropped. “You’re mine.”

Next thing you knew, your back hit the couch and his mouth was back on yours, hot and hungry. His hand slid under your shirt, his words muffled against your skin.

“Wanna make sure you remember it.”

Later that night, when you were curled up in his hoodie, legs tangled under a blanket, he kept staring at you like you held the damn stars.

“What?” you asked, poking his cheek.

Yeonjun hesitated, then shrugged. “I think I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

You blinked. “You’re not already?”

His mouth parted. You laughed, cheeks flushed as you looked away. “Oops.”

He grabbed your hand. “Wait—say it again.”

“You’re not already?” you teased.

“No. The other thing.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I love you, idiot.”

He didn’t say anything. Just kissed you like it was the last time. Like it was the only thing he knew how to do.

And maybe it was.

It was Yeonjun’s idea.

“I wanna make cookies,” he said, lying on your bed, scrolling Pinterest like a bored housewife. “The cute ones. With the little hearts.”

You blinked at him. “You wanna bake?”

“With you,” he said, smug, rolling over to kiss your cheek. “And then kiss you after I shove cookie dough in your mouth.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You just wanna make out covered in flour.”

“Exactly.”

It started cute.

He wore the pink apron. You wore his hoodie. The music was soft, sunlight coming through your kitchen window. You measured the sugar, he cracked the eggs. Your fingers brushed in the bowl and he grinned like a sap.

“This is domestic as hell,” you said, smearing a little flour on his cheek.

He did the same to you, but worse—palmed your whole face with flour-covered hands. You gasped. “You’re dead.”

Cue: chaos. You threw flour at him. He dumped a spoon of batter down your shirt. You screamed. He ran.

“You’re cleaning that up!” you yelled, chasing him through the apartment with a whisk in your hand.

Yeonjun ducked behind the couch, laughing. “Not if you catch me first.”

You tackled him. Literally. He hit the couch, arms around your waist as you both collapsed in giggles.

Then the laughter faded. Your eyes met.

His hands stayed firm on your hips.

“You look cute like this,” he murmured, thumbing a bit of flour off your lip. “All messy. All mine.”

Your breath caught. You kissed him—slow, warm, tasting sweet like vanilla.

The cookies burnt.

Neither of you cared.

That night.

You were lying in bed, snuggled under blankets, legs tangled together, watching trash TV with the smell of burnt sugar still lingering.

“You’d still love me if I sucked at baking, right?” he asked.

“You do suck at baking.”

He gasped. “Betrayal.”

You giggled, nuzzling into his chest. “I love you anyway.”

Yeonjun wrapped his arms around you tighter, burying his face into your hair.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he whispered. “One day.”

You smiled.

“I know.”

the tension starts simple.

he’s busy. like really busy. comeback soon, promotions stacking up. rehearsals until 3 a.m., interviews that never end. you say it’s fine—of course it’s fine—but the calls get shorter, the dates turn into postponed maybes, and when you do see each other, he’s tired.

you still kiss. you still cuddle. but you feel it—that hum of distance settling like dust.

“yeonjun,” you whisper one night, curled up on his couch, his head in your lap, “do you miss me?”

he blinks slowly. “what kind of question is that?”

but his answer isn’t yes.

and your silence says everything.

it builds.

you start feeling like a second thought. you wait up for him only to fall asleep alone. he forgets you had a thing on friday. you stop bringing it up.

you still love him. he still loves you. but love doesn’t stop the ache from creeping in like a draft under the door.

you break down one night—not in a dramatic, screaming way—but in the shower. quiet sobs, back against the tile. exhausted. not because he’s mean. but because he’s not here. and you’re starting to forget what it feels like when he was.

then comes the breaking point.

he shows up at your apartment after a long stretch of silence. no warning, just keys rattling, and he walks in like the world hasn’t shifted under your feet.

you don’t greet him.

you’re sitting on the couch, arms crossed, eyes tired.

he knows.

“baby,” he says softly.

and you just say:

“i feel so alone. and you’re right here.”

that’s what ruins him.

he kneels in front of you, burying his face in your lap, arms around your waist like he’s begging the universe not to take you from him.

“i don’t know how to do this,” he chokes. “i don’t know how to be in love with you and still chase everything else.”

you run your fingers through his hair. you’re crying, too.

“then don’t make me choose between being patient and being okay.”

and for the first time, you both understand:

you’re not fighting each other.

you’re fighting the gap between your lives.

and it’s breaking you.

but the love doesn’t go away.

it lingers in forehead kisses and i miss yous. in holding hands tighter. in soft apologies whispered half-asleep.

you don’t break up.

you just… hold on.

even when it hurts.

you learn to fill your days with things for yourself. not to distract from the ache of missing him, but because you know you're your own person too. you work your part-time job at the café near campus, fingers stained with ink from late-night study sessions, eyes puffy from sleep-deprived group projects. but you push through, for yourself.

karina and winter stay your constants—karaoke nights, cram sessions, skincare sleepovers with ramen at 2 a.m. you laugh with them. you vent with them. you cry a little, sometimes. but they keep you grounded.

and still, somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s always him.

you don’t see him much. once every two, three weeks if you’re lucky.

but those nights? those rare, golden reunions?

they’re everything.

he shows up in his hoodie and cap, slipping into your world like he belongs there. and he does. because when he walks into your apartment with takeout in one hand and a tired smile on his lips, your whole chest aches with how much you missed him.

you sit on the floor, sharing food and stories. you’re both quieter than before, but there’s comfort in the stillness. his thumb strokes your knuckles as you talk. your fingers card through his hair while he lays in your lap again, like old times.

and when you kiss—it’s slow. not rushed. not lusty. just… lingering. meaningful. like every press of his lips against yours says thank you for waiting.

there’s no big confession. no promises carved into the stars. just:

"i missed you," he whispers against your skin.

"me too," you whisper back.

and maybe one night, you cancel plans just to be with him. he pulls you into his arms and sways you in the middle of your living room, no music playing, just the sound of your heart beating against his.

“you’re still my favorite person,” he murmurs.

“you always will be,” you reply.

you’re lying on the couch, legs over his lap, the tv playing something neither of you are watching. your hand is in his hair. his hand? well… it’s resting suspiciously close to your inner thigh.

"you always touch me like you forgot how soft i am," you say with a teasing raise of your brow.

yeonjun just smirks, leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck.

"no, baby," he murmurs, voice low, "i remember exactly how soft you are. but it’s been two weeks, and i’ve had to suffer with nothing but your voice memos and those goddamn pictures in my hoodie. do you know what that did to me?"

his hand creeps higher, fingers brushing over the hem of your shorts.

you bite your lip. “yeonjun.”

"yeah?" he breathes, eyes dark and locked on you. “miss me that bad, sweetheart?”

you can’t answer—not with how he’s suddenly kissing you like he’s starving, like you’re the first breath after drowning. teeth, tongue, hands—desperate. and you? you’re melting, grinding against him like you’ve needed this too.

he chuckles against your lips, cocky and breathless.

"someone’s needy," he teases, pulling back slightly just to watch your dazed expression.

"i hate you," you pant.

"yeah?" he grins. "then why are you already soaking through these little shorts?"

his fingers finally slip under your shorts, and he groans when he feels how wet you already are for him.

“fuck, baby… just like this for me already?”

you don’t answer—you can’t, not when he’s rubbing slow circles against your soaked panties, watching the way your body shudders under him. he knows exactly what he’s doing, smug as hell, that stupid chain around his neck swinging when he leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“take ‘em off,” you whisper, tugging at the hem of his hoodie. “now.”

he chuckles darkly. “getting bossy, huh?”

“or you could shut up and let me ride you.”

yeonjun doesn’t need to be told twice. in one motion, the hoodie’s gone, pants tugged down just enough for his boxers to stretch tight over the bulge you’ve been teasing all night. you climb onto his lap, panties pushed to the side, shorts long forgotten on the floor.

“slow,” he murmurs, holding your waist as you sink down on him, your eyes fluttering shut with a moan. “let me feel you. fuck—just like that.”

you bite your lip to quiet yourself, but it’s no use—not with the stretch, not with how deep he feels inside you in this position. he looks up at you like you’re the whole damn sky, hands gripping your thighs so tight they might bruise.

“you ride me like you need it,” he pants, watching the way you bounce, thighs trembling. “missed this pussy so much, fuck—i’ll let you do whatever you want to me if you keep fucking me like that.”

you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders for leverage. your moans spill out freely now, hips moving faster, chasing your high shamelessly.

"i-i'm close—"

"yeah?" he smirks, thrusting up into you as you ride. "make a mess on me, baby. right here. c’mon, be my good girl."

you fall apart with his name on your lips, legs shaking, walls fluttering around him as he groans your name like it’s his favorite prayer.

he kisses you through it, deep and filthy, still inside you when he whispers—

“round two in the shower?”

he doesn’t even give you a full minute to recover. you’re still catching your breath, flushed and sweaty against his chest when he scoops you up like you weigh nothing. your legs wrap around his waist out of instinct.

“wh—yeonjun,” you gasp, clinging to him, “you’re seriously insane—”

“uh-huh,” he grins, kissing your cheek as he nudges the bathroom door open with his foot. “and i’m not done with you.”

he sets you on the bathroom counter first, tugging your top over your head with ease, eyes glued to your flushed skin. you’re sore, trembling, but your body betrays you—you want him just as bad.

he kisses you again, deeper this time. rougher. when his tongue slides against yours, you’re already breathless, already moaning into his mouth.

you barely register him turning on the shower until the room starts filling with steam. he lifts you again, both of you stumbling in, kissing, laughing, wanting.

you press your back against the cold tiles, and he’s right there—pinning you, caging you in with his arms, water running down his toned chest. his cock presses against your thigh, hard again. still.

“you feel that?” he grits out, grinding slowly. “you did this to me. you’re not getting away without paying for it.”

“i’m sore,” you whimper, lips brushing his. “and you’re still—so hard—”

“then let me make it worth it.”

and oh, he does.

he sinks to his knees, kissing down your stomach, your thighs, water beading off your skin like you’re something out of a fantasy. he licks a stripe up your inner thigh, hands firm on your waist as he pulls one of your legs over his shoulder.

“yeonjun—” your head thuds back against the tile, a broken moan slipping past your lips when he finally puts his mouth on you.

his tongue is relentless—slow, deep, teasing strokes that have your knees nearly buckling. and he knows it.

“taste so fucking good,” he groans into you, voice hoarse. “can’t get enough.”

your hands tangle in his hair, tugging, anchoring yourself as he eats you out like a man starved. it’s filthy—the slurping sounds, the water hitting the floor, your breathy moans echoing through the steamy air.

you come with a choked cry, legs shaking, body twitching—and yeonjun doesn’t stop. not until you’re whimpering, begging him to let you breathe.

he stands again, kisses you hard, makes you taste yourself on his tongue. then he’s lining up, hands on your hips, and you barely have time to register it before he pushes inside again.

“you said you were sore,” he growls in your ear, thrusts deep and slow, “but look at you—taking me like you were made for it.”

you can’t speak. you can’t think. not when he fucks you through the afterglow, lifting one of your legs to reach deeper, angling his hips just right until you’re a mess again—head lolling back, eyes rolling, lips parted.

“say my name,” he pants, kissing your neck. “let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.”

you do. over and over again.

you’re not even sure how long it’s been. time’s a blur, your voice is wrecked, and you’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you come. but yeonjun? he’s insatiable. his body’s flushed, breath heavy, eyes dark and absolutely feral—and he still wants more.

“think you can handle one more?” he murmurs, brushing the hair from your face, his thumb teasing your bottom lip. you’re trembling in his lap, straddling him under the hot water as it pours over your bodies, your legs barely able to hold you up.

you nod, eyes glassy, voice raspy. “yeah… just—just don’t go easy.”

his mouth twitches into a grin. “wasn’t planning to.”

he flips you around without warning—your palms slap against the foggy glass, back arching as he presses his body flush to yours. his hands roam your stomach, your chest, hips grinding into your ass with slow, sinful rolls.

“look at you,” he groans, dragging his cock through your folds. “still so wet—fuck, baby.”

and then he pushes in from behind.

you cry out, legs shaking again. he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you steady, the other tangled in your hair, tugging gently as he pounds into you.

skin slapping, breathy moans, wet sounds echoing off the tile—pure filth.

“you’re taking me so fucking good,” he grits out, thrusts sharp, relentless. “fuck—i can feel how deep i am.”

you’re a mess of “please,” “yes,” and “yeonjun,”—nothing coherent, just raw, whimpering need.

he pulls out abruptly and you almost collapse, but he catches you, lifts you like you’re nothing and pins you against the wall. your legs wrap around him again, his hands gripping under your thighs as he sinks back in, deeper than ever, your back hitting the tile with every thrust.

you sob his name against his lips, clinging to his shoulders.

and just when you think it’s too much, he lays you down on the counter—legs over his shoulders now, bending you in half, watching your face as he pushes in again.

“look at me,” he demands, holding your chin. “i wanna see how pretty you look when i ruin you.”

you shatter.

your body tenses, head thrown back, and you come again with a cry that could’ve woken the whole building.

yeonjun follows with a deep groan, burying himself inside you with one last, desperate thrust, fingers gripping your thighs like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

he kisses your forehead after, still inside you, both of you panting and shaking and soaked.

“…we’re definitely skipping class,” he whispers.

you laugh breathlessly, burying your face in his neck.

“worth it?”

you nod.

“worth every. fucking. second.”

“you’re unbelievable,” he mutters as he lays you down on the bed, both of you freshly showered but definitely not rested. your body’s still sensitive, twitching under his touch, but yeonjun? he’s hard again—pressed against your thigh, leaking, throbbing, desperate.

“jun…” you whisper, barely catching your breath. “you’re still—?”

he nods, eyes dark. “can’t help it. you’re too fucking pretty like this.” he kisses your neck, slowly trailing down your collarbone. “and you have no idea what you do to me.”

you whimper as he rolls you onto your stomach, then lifts your hips gently. you glance up, confused—until you see what he’s doing.

he’s angling you towards the mirror at the end of the bed.

“wanna show you,” he breathes, dragging your body back against him. “wanna show you why i keep getting hard for you… why i can’t stop.”

your cheeks flush as he reaches between your legs, fingers slipping through your folds again, spreading you open for the mirror.

“look,” he whispers, hot breath on your ear. “look how wet you still are.”

you try to turn your face away, shy—but he grabs your chin, gently but firm. “don’t hide. want you to see what i see.”

he pushes into you slowly from behind—and you see it all. the stretch, the slide, the way your mouth falls open when he bottoms out.

“fuck—look at that,” he growls, thrusting slow and deep. “your pussy’s so fucking perfect.”

you moan his name, hands gripping the sheets, your gaze locked to the mirror as he begins moving faster, harder, snapping his hips up into you like he’s got something to prove.

and he does.

“see that?” he pants, gripping your hips tighter. “that’s why i’m always hard. every time i see you. every time i think about this—about us.”

you’re shaking, tears slipping down your cheeks from the intensity. and he loves it.

“you’re mine, y/n,” he whispers, dragging your body up so your back’s to his chest. one hand cups your throat, the other sliding between your legs to rub soft circles. “say it.”

“yours,” you gasp, watching the way he ruins you in the mirror. “i’m yours.”

“say it louder.”

“i’m yours, yeonjun—fuck, i’m—!”

you come again, body tensing, back arching—and yeonjun loses it. he holds you through it, biting down on your shoulder with a deep groan as he spills inside you, grinding his hips as deep as they’ll go, cock twitching with every pulse.

you both collapse forward, panting, sticky, sweaty—and yeonjun chuckles, pressing kisses to your shoulder blade.

“maybe next time i’ll record it,” he murmurs. “show you how fucking gorgeous you look when you come on my cock.”

“you’re insane,” you whisper, completely ruined.

“for you?” he grins. “absolutely.”

“you sure?” he murmurs, voice hoarse as he hovers over you, phone in hand, the camera already glowing.

you nod, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from the way he’s been kissing you all night. “just don’t show anyone.”

his gaze darkens. “as if i’d let anyone else see you like this.”

he hits record.

you moan the moment he pushes into you—slow, deliberate, filling you inch by inch while the phone captures the way your legs tremble and your eyes roll back. his other hand is gripping yours tight, knuckles white, anchoring you as your body arches under him.

“fuck, baby,” he growls, angling the camera to show where you're connected. “look at how good you take me. so fucking tight, so wet—god, this pussy’s made for me.”

you’re panting, nearly incoherent, every drag of his cock making your thighs quake. he adjusts the angle so your face is in view too—messy, needy, yours eyes fluttering.

“you look so pretty like this,” he whispers, locking his eyes with yours. “you watching, sweetheart? look at how you’re falling apart for me.”

he thrusts harder, deeper, the camera shaking slightly with every motion as he fucks you into the mattress, your hands scrambling for purchase on his back.

“you like being filmed?” he breathes against your neck. “like knowing i’m gonna watch this again when you’re not here, jerking off to how you sound when i’m buried inside you?”

“yeonjun—fuck—”

he lets go of your hand, pressing your thighs up toward your chest, splitting you open as the camera captures everything—the stretch, the slick, the way your body trembles when he hits that perfect spot.

“come for me, baby. let them hear how good i fuck you.”

you sob his name as your orgasm crashes over you, shaking, broken, and he doesn’t stop—he fucks you through it, hissing when you clench around him, before finally gasping and spilling inside you with a low, wrecked moan of your name.

he ends the video with one final thrust and a deep kiss to your lips.

“mine,” he whispers. “every messy, gorgeous part of you.”

you’re still catching your breath, legs tangled with his, the sheets half-pulled off the bed and your body limp against his chest.

“you okay?” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“barely,” you mumble, voice hoarse from how hard you were screaming minutes ago. “you literally folded me in half.”

“and you loved it,” he grins, smug and satisfied.

you slap his chest weakly, but there’s no heat in it—not when you’re still pulsing from the orgasm he just gave you, not when his hand keeps drifting higher and higher between your legs again.

“yeonjun—”

“what?” he says, wide-eyed and innocent. “can’t help it. you’re still so warm. still fucking soaked.”

you try to squirm away but he holds you tighter, one hand slipping down your stomach.

“baby…”

“just touching,” he says sweetly, fingers teasing the sensitive spot between your legs. “just wanna see how messy i made you.”

you gasp, hips jerking as his thumb circles your clit, soft and slow. it’s too much, too sensitive—and he knows it.

he shushes you gently, eyes dark as he watches your face. “so pretty when you squirm.”

you’re panting again, body twitching, and he hasn’t even fucked you again yet.

“fuck,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “i should show you how you looked earlier. recorded the whole thing. wanna watch?”

your eyes widen. “you didn’t—”

“you let me,” he grins. “remember? wanna watch it with me now, baby?”

he's already reaching for his phone.

“you’re insane,” you breathe out, forehead resting on his shoulder as he scrolls through his camera roll.

“mm, yeah? but you let me record it, didn’t you?” yeonjun grins, smug and shirtless, the glow from his phone casting a golden light over your flushed skin. “there it is.”

he hits play.

your moans, his groans, the filthy slap of skin against skin, your voice all desperate and needy—it fills the room instantly. you shift a little on his lap, already wet just from the sound of it.

“yeonjun…”

“you sound so hot, baby,” he murmurs, free hand sliding down to grip your hips. “look at how good you take me. you see that?”

you nod slowly, lip caught between your teeth as the video shows him thrusting into you from above, your face twisted in pleasure.

“ride me,” he says lowly. “like you did that night. but slower. i wanna feel every second of it.”

you sink down on him, gasping—he’s so hard already, so warm inside you, and your body fits around him too perfectly.

“shit, that’s it,” he groans, phone still in hand, but his eyes are locked on you now. “look at you. fuck. even better than the video.”

you roll your hips, slow and steady, matching the rhythm playing from the screen. he groans as your walls clench around him, the video moaning right along with you.

“you hear that?” he pants, voice strained. “you hear how wrecked you sounded for me?”

“yeonjun—”

“ride me just like that,” he growls, pressing the phone closer so you both watch. “fuck—look at your face. you were so messy, so needy for me. still are.”

you gasp as his hand slides up your back, pulling you down so your lips are almost touching. “and now? you’re on top of me, pussy soaking my cock, watching yourself fall apart like a perfect little slut.”

your nails dig into his chest, your rhythm faltering as the pleasure builds. he drops the phone beside you, finally gripping your hips with both hands, fucking up into you.

“gonna come for me again, sweetheart?” he pants. “you want me to record this too?”

“yes—fuck—yes—”

you fall apart in his arms again, head thrown back as you cry out his name, body trembling, walls spasming around him. he doesn’t stop until he’s spilling inside you with a broken groan, holding you there—all the way in—as you both shake from the aftershocks.

yeonjun's fingers trace lazy circles along your thigh, his other arm curled around your waist like he has no plans of letting go. his skin is warm, damp with sweat, and you feel every slow rise and fall of his breathing under your cheek.

later that day

You’re tucked into a corner booth at your favorite café with Karina and Winter, oversized iced drinks sweating on the table, and your voice pitched low as you try not to giggle too loudly.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry—but you let him record it?!” Winter nearly shrieks, slapping her hand over her mouth after realizing how loud she was.

You bury your face in your hands, laughing. “I was in the moment! He asked so sweetly, too, like—‘wanna see how pretty you look, baby’—ugh, I folded.”

Karina takes a slow sip of her drink, side-eyeing you. “Don’t act like you didn’t ride him while watching it back. That’s some power move shit. I'm proud.”

“I hate you both,” you mutter, but your grin gives you away.

Winter leans in. “Okay but seriously. Do you love him?”

You pause.

Like, really pause.

The strawberry swirl of your drink is suddenly the most fascinating thing on Earth, but you feel your chest tighten in a way that answers the question even before you say anything.

“I think I do,” you whisper, and both girls go quiet.

Then Karina nudges your foot under the table. “Aww, our little slut’s in love.”

“Don’t call me that in public!” you hiss, blushing hard.

“Too late,” Winter smirks. “Already tweeted it.”

You flip her off, and she blows you a kiss.

meanwhile, across town – yeonjun’s pov

“So,” Beomgyu says, propping his chin on his hand. “How does it feel to be the biggest simp in Seoul?”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his burger. “Shut up.”

“No, you shut up,” Taehyun adds. “You show up late to practice, looking like you’ve been drained—literally—and you keep smiling at your phone like a lovesick high schooler.”

“Because I like her?” Yeonjun shrugs. “Sorry I’m not a cold emotionally unavailable asshole like the rest of you.”

“So you do like her,” Soobin says with a smirk.

Yeonjun groans but he’s smiling. “I love her, actually. If that makes you feel better.”

The table goes quiet for half a second.

Then Beomgyu bangs the table. “YO. HE SAID IT. HE’S GONE. HE’S FUCKING GONE.”

Taehyun mock-wipes a tear. “Our boy finally found someone to rail and respect.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Yeonjun mumbles, hiding his grin in his drink. But inside, his heart’s racing a little.

Yeah. He’s so gone for you.

yeonjun’s pov

He’s halfway through roasting Beomgyu for losing a game of pool when his phone buzzes on the table. He glances down, and his entire face lights up like a damn sunrise.

“Who is it?” Soobin asks, already knowing the answer.

Yeonjun doesn’t respond—just picks up the FaceTime without hesitation.

“Hey, baby,” he says, voice dropping half an octave, smiling like a fool.

The screen shows your face, flushed from the café heat, lips glossy from whatever fruity drink you were sipping. “Hi,” you grin, a little breathless. “Missed you.”

Beomgyu chokes on his drink. “MISS—?”

Taehyun snorts. “I’m gonna puke.”

Yeonjun flips them off with his free hand, still smiling at you. “What’re you doing? You look cute.”

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just left the café. Karina and Winter say hi. And that you’re whipped.”

“Oh, do they now?” he murmurs, eyes softening. “Tell them they’re right.”

Soobin actually gags dramatically in the background.

You squint at the screen. “Are you with the guys?”

Yeonjun hesitates. “...No.”

“Bro, I’m literally sitting across from you,” Beomgyu says loudly.

“Love you too, babe!” Taehyun shouts.

You burst out laughing, and Yeonjun sighs, resting his forehead in his hand. “I hate them.”

“You love her though,” Soobin sings.

Yeonjun groans, but the grin on his face isn’t going anywhere. “Okay. Gotta go before they start planning our wedding. Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“I will. Love you.”

The call ends, and the boys go feral.

“YOU SAID IT FIRST?” Beomgyu screams.

“WHIPPED!!!” Taehyun echoes.

Soobin takes a slow sip of his drink. “How’s that honeymoon planning going, Jun?”

Yeonjun just flips them off again and mumbles, “worth it.”

later that night…

Yeonjun’s sprawled on his bed, one hand holding the remote, the other resting on his chest, scrolling aimlessly through TikTok. His friends finally left after another two hours of teasing the lover boy, and he’s been moping ever since you hung up.

So when the knock comes at the door, he doesn’t expect you to be the one standing there with a hoodie two sizes too big and that little smug smile on your lips.

“Surprise,” you say, holding up takeout and a drink with his name scribbled on the side.

He just stares at you for a second, like you’re not real.

“…baby?” he says, blinking.

You nod. “I missed you.”

That’s all it takes.

In seconds, the food’s forgotten on the desk and you’re pressed into the wall of his bedroom, hoodie bunched around your hips as his lips trail messily down your neck.

“Fuck—what if I didn’t open the door?” he murmurs against your jaw.

“You always open the door for me.”

“You’re right. ‘Cause I’m yours,” he breathes, hands sliding under the hoodie, up your thighs, his fingers grazing the hem of your shorts. “And right now? I need you.”

You gasp as he lifts you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist like second nature. He’s hot, flushed, grinding against you without shame, tongue slipping past your lips in a kiss that makes your head spin.

“You show up like this,” he mutters, trailing kisses down to your collarbone, “and expect me to just eat takeout?”

You tug on his hair, arching into him. “Who said anything about eating?”

“Oh, you’re unreal,” he groans, dragging you to the bed.

He doesn’t waste a second, pinning you underneath him as his lips roam, his hands pushing your hoodie up, eyes dark and hungry.

“Missed me that bad?” you tease, breathless.

He hums lowly, hips rolling against yours. “You have no idea.”

“You have no idea.”

His voice is barely a growl as he tugs the hoodie over your head, revealing nothing but bare skin underneath. His eyes darken instantly.

“fuck.” he stares for a moment, thumb brushing over your bare chest like he’s trying to memorize every inch. “you really just walked in here like this?”

“wanted your attention,” you whisper, eyes fluttering.

“you have it, sweetheart.”

his mouth is on you a second later, sucking a mark into your collarbone as his hands roam your waist, your thighs, your hips—pulling you flush against him. you can feel how hard he already is, pressed tight against the damp cotton between your legs.

“bed,” he rasps, grabbing the backs of your thighs again and tossing you onto the mattress like you weigh nothing. he crawls over you slowly, eyes fixed on your face as he kisses your stomach, then down, then lower.

“can i?” he murmurs, fingers curling into the band of your shorts.

you nod quickly, breath caught in your throat. “please.”

they’re gone in a flash, and then he’s spreading your thighs apart, groaning at the sight of you—already soaked, already twitching for him.

“shit, baby. you were waiting for this?”

“yeonjun—” your voice cuts off in a gasp as his tongue swipes through your folds, slow and deliberate. he eats you out like he’s starving, gripping your thighs, humming against your clit as you squirm under his touch.

he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, whining, begging, your fingers tangled in his hair as you buck up against his mouth.

“gonna come?” he asks, licking his lips.

“yes, fuck—yes—”

but he pulls away at the last second, and you nearly sob at the loss.

“ride me first,” he says, voice wrecked, dragging you up and flipping you over so you’re straddling his hips. “want you to fall apart on top of me.”

you sink down on him with a broken moan, your body clenching as he fills you inch by inch, thick and hot and perfect inside you.

“shit, that’s it—ride me, baby. show me how bad you missed this cock.”

you start to move—slow at first, rolling your hips, grinding into him, until his hands grab your ass and guide you into a filthy rhythm. your name is falling from his lips over and over again, his mouth latching onto your chest as you bounce above him.

“you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes half-lidded. “so fucking good. look at you—riding me like you’re made for it.”

you lean forward, moaning into his mouth as he thrusts up into you harder, faster, both of you a mess of sweat and whimpers and wet skin. your head falls to his shoulder, fingers clawing into his chest.

“you close?” he pants.

“yes—fuck, yes—yeonjun—”

you cry out his name as your orgasm hits, body spasming around him, and he’s not far behind—hips jerking, spilling inside you with a raw, desperate groan.

you collapse against his chest, both of you trembling, hearts racing.

he kisses your forehead, holding you close.

“you always show up when i need you,” he whispers.

"You’re mine."

It’s the way he says it—quiet but rough, like he needs you to know. Like he can’t stand another second without reminding you.

You’re beneath him, legs tangled in the sheets, your shirt bunched up around your ribs. His hips rock against yours slowly, the stretch of him inside you already making your legs shake. But it’s his eyes—locked on you, all intense and wanting—that make your chest feel tight.

“say it,” he whispers against your neck, voice gravel. “say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you breathe out, barely able to form the words.

he groans, kissing you deep, tongue licking into your mouth while his hips push in deeper—a steady, sinful pace that’s nothing like the roughness before. it’s slow. intentional. intimate.

“good girl,” he mutters, thumb brushing over your lips. “you feel that? that’s how deep you take me. every fucking inch.”

your back arches, hands gripping his arms as you moan out his name. he thrusts again—deeper, slower—like he wants to memorize every sound you make, every twitch of your body beneath him.

“i love you,” he says suddenly, panting against your jaw. “fuck—I’m so in love with you, baby.”

your heart skips. your body tightens. everything feels like too much and not enough.

you kiss him—hard, messy, teeth clashing—as your hips start to move with his, chasing the edge together. it’s raw, tender, and so desperate it nearly breaks you.

“yeonjun—i love you,” you gasp, your nails digging into his back. “please—don’t stop—”

“never,” he groans. “never stopping, not when you feel like this. not when you love me like this.”

he fucks into you with slow, punishing strokes, groaning your name with every thrust, until you’re trembling, thighs wrapped tight around him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure of it all.

“come with me,” he pants. “come with me, baby, please—fuck—i need you to—”

you fall apart at the same time, clutching onto each other like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the world. you come hard, gasping his name, and he follows—shuddering, spilling inside you with a low moan as he presses kisses to your neck, your cheek, your lips.

he doesn’t pull away. not even when you’re both wrecked and panting and twitching with every aftershock.

he just stays inside, wraps you up in his arms, and murmurs soft, broken things against your skin.

“you’re everything.”

the air’s heavy with sex and love and the kind of tension that never really leaves once it’s been touched.

you thought he’d be done after that—after whispering i love you into your skin like it was prayer. after coming inside you like he meant it. but no.

yeonjun’s still hard.

still wanting.

still yours.

your body’s limp from the first round, breaths shallow, heart still thudding like it’s trying to make sense of everything he just did to you. but he doesn’t give you long. doesn’t give you a moment to recover before he’s kissing your shoulder, hands sliding under the sheets to grab your hips again.

“turn around for me, baby,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and low and dark. “wanna see you on all fours.”

you shiver. your legs tremble. but you move.

you shift slowly, limbs heavy, letting him guide you—pulling your hips up, arching your back, face pressed to the pillows while your ass is up for him, all flushed and wet and ready again.

he moans when he sees you like that.

“look at you,” he mutters, hand ghosting over your ass before he grabs it—fingers rough, greedy. “so pretty. so fuckin’ perfect.”

you feel him shift behind you, knees parting, his cock pressing back into you with maddening patience. he slides in again—slow, teasing. the stretch is too much, but you whimper for more.

he pins your arms behind your back with one hand, forcing your chest down against the mattress.

you can’t move. can’t think. can only feel.

“you can take it,” he growls, hips starting to thrust with more force, more rhythm. “you took it earlier. you can take it again.”

the sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the room, and he’s going deeper this time—shoving in harder, dragging it out just to hear you sob into the sheets.

his mouth is everywhere. biting into your shoulder, sucking hickeys down your spine, your waist, even the curve of your ass. branding you like he wants everyone to know you’re his.

“all mine,” he pants. “say it.”

“y-yours,” you cry, legs shaking.

he lets go of your arms just to grab your neck, pulling you up so your back hits his chest, his cock still slamming into you from behind.

“say it louder, baby.”

“i’m yours!” you scream, your body breaking apart.

he wraps his other arm around your stomach, holding you still while he thrusts up into you like he’s chasing your soul. you come like that—again—clenching around him so tight he gasps and curses and bites your shoulder as he comes with you, teeth sinking in to muffle the growl that rips out of him.

you both collapse after. a mess of limbs and gasps and heat.

he doesn’t pull out. just lets himself soften inside you, arms wrapped tight, your bodies stuck together with sweat and come and love so deep it aches.

“you good?” he murmurs against your ear, thumb stroking the edge of one fresh hickey.

you don’t answer. you’re gone. boneless. breathless. he chuckles.

“gonna have to carry you to the bathroom again, huh?”

your body’s trembling, skin flushed and marked, breath barely evened out from the last one. you’re sure he’d let you sleep now, sure he’d hold you close and whisper something sweet.

but then he shifts beside you.

not done.

not satisfied.

not even close.

you feel the way his hand drags down your thigh, slow and possessive. his voice comes next, low and lazy and soaked in heat.

“still breathing?” he murmurs against your neck, tongue flicking over the hickey he left there earlier.

you hum, exhausted but drunk on him. “barely.”

his hand slips between your thighs again, palm pressing against your core, and you flinch—sensitive.

“yeonjun—”

“just one more, baby,” he says, voice coaxing and sweet as sin. “last one. let me make you feel good again.”

you try to protest, but your legs part instinctively when his fingers dip lower, playing with the mess he left inside you. he groans at the wet sound of it.

“fuck, still so full of me,” he mutters. “you’re unreal.”

you don’t even realize he’s gotten up until you’re being gently pushed onto your side. he’s behind you in seconds—pressing in, spooning you, kissing your shoulder. you feel the hard press of him again, thick and ready, sliding between your thighs before he slowly—so slowly—pushes into you from behind.

“mm—fuck—jun…”

“i know, baby,” he breathes, wrapping his arm around you, pinning your hips in place while he moves inside. “i got you.”

this time it’s slower. deeper. the kind that builds a fire instead of starting one. his lips press kisses along your neck, whispering the filthiest, sweetest things into your ear.

“you feel that? how warm you are around me?”

“wish i could stay inside you forever.”

“you’re my favorite place in the whole fucking world.”

you clutch the pillow under your head, body trembling as he rocks into you with perfect rhythm. his fingers find your clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles that make your thighs twitch.

you’re so full of him—his cock, his breath, his voice, his love—and it pushes you right over the edge one last time.

you come with a gasp, tears in your eyes, legs shaking as he follows right behind you, groaning your name into your skin like a promise.

he stays inside you after.

holding you tight.

whispering, “you did so good for me.”

pressing a kiss to your temple.

letting the silence wrap around your bodies like a blanket.

he pulls out gently, careful not to overstimulate you more than he already has. his hands find yours under the sheets, fingers lacing together.

“okay,” he whispers. “now you can sleep.”

and this time—you do.

MORNING AFTER

your eyes flutter open to soft breaths against your nape, the warm brush of skin, and an annoyingly firm grip wrapped around your waist.

“jun,” you mumble, voice raw, reaching back to nudge his arm. “let go. i have to pee.”

“no,” comes the groggy reply, muffled against your shoulder. “you’re not allowed to leave.”

you blink. “…you’re insane.”

“mm, maybe. but you’re warm,” he pouts, snuggling closer. “and naked. which is a bonus.”

you feel his morning wood pressed up against your ass and groan. “are you serious?”

“i’m always serious about cuddles and you,” he mutters, tightening his hold. “and if you move again, i’ll get hard for real and we’ll be here for another hour.”

you freeze. “…fine. i’ll hold it.”

he smiles into your skin, satisfied, and lets out a happy hum. “that’s my good girl.”

you roll your eyes, face buried into the pillow as his fingers lazily trace shapes along your belly. he shifts a little, pulling your thigh over his so you’re completely tangled up in him.

he smells like bodywash and sleep. he feels like safety. and when he presses a gentle kiss to your neck, you melt all over again.

“you’re never getting out of this bed,” he murmurs, half-asleep but smug as ever.

and honestly?

you’re okay with that.

THE END an: liked what you read? lmk so i can continue posting these kinds of genre. and btw, all this romance is making me sick, time for a dark romance genre next? just say the word and i'll start working on it babies ! mwaaaaa

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