#new stove is pretty nice

[raspberryconverse]

Who at Samsung decided their ranges needed a long song to play when the oven is preheated and when the timer is done? — Coley (she/her) bisexual glitter explosions💗💜💙✨ (@raspberrychucks) Mar 30, 2023 March 29, 2023 at 07:39PM via Twitter https://twitter.com/raspberrychucks

[tardis--dreams]

I was so concerned with the horrors of making a doctor's appointment and the horrors of finding a job that i completely forgot about the worst horrors of them all. Finding an apartment.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP

✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.

author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)

“did you tell them we’re back together?”

satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.

“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.

since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.

“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully. 

“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.

“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air. 

“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.

“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.

“boo, you whore.”

you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”

satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss. 

“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.

“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.

“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”

satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”

you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.

satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”

you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”

your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”

“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”

“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”

and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”

“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”

this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.

“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”

“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.

you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies. 

you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.

“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you. 

satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.

even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so. 

“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.

“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?” 

satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.

“maybe.”

“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”

in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.

so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.

“okay,” you whisper. 

satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”

you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.

one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips. 

satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”

“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick. 

“as you wish, princess.”

satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.

you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”

he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”

you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”

[gutsby]

Honor Among Thieves

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

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

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

Descriptions of violence throughout

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So— so mean. Bucky, please.”

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

“Baby?” he breathed.

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

“Y-Yeah?”

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

“I need you to do something for me.”

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

“And you might not like it, doll.”

Your eyes widened some.

“O— O-Okay, what?”

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

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

“What?”

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

“Melaya, I need you to wake up.”

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

“Bucky? What— What do you mean?”

But you knew. Or suspected something of it anyway.

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

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

His tone, too, was distorted. Grating.

“Bucky, I-I don’t underst—”

“WAKE UP!”

“WAKE UP!”

Natasha shook you hard, and it hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hydrate. Please.”

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

“I’m gonna go puke now,” you said.

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

“My bad, Rogers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nat, please.” Steve groaned.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, to you, “Come. Sit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘VERIFIED COMPLAINT: ACTION FOR DIVORCE’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sprinted up the stairs without another word.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give that a minute. It’s hot.”

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

“Thank you,” you told her.

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

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

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

You grinned bigger, and she smiled too.

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

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

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

“Thanks again, Sharon. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just in case.”

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

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

P.M.

Shit.

SHIT.

That chamomille tea was no fucking joke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

A familiar face.

Bucky’s face.

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

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

‘Are you hurt?’ were his first words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was scared, Bucky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bucky shook his head.

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

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

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

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

“Baby? C’mon.”

You didn’t budge.

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

“Baby?”

“I’m leaving, Bucky.”

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

“What?”

“I’m leaving.”

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

“I want a divorce.”

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

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

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

“Divorce?”

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

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

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

“It’s what I need.”

“You don’t mean that.”

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

“You don’t mean that,” he repeated.

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

“STOP!” you shrieked.

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

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

“Don’t touch me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You said you wouldn’t hurt me, Bucky.

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

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

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

“Honey?”

No answer.

“Baby, please open the door.”

More silence.

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

“I’m sorry, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Pleading now. His voice was hoarse all over again.

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

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

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

No sound to be heard inside but running water.

“You mean everything to me, doll.”

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

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

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

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

The joy lasted less than a second.

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

Bucky didn’t blink.

You stepped outside not wanting to see him.

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

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

“Hi, honey.”

It wasn’t Bucky.

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

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

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

Johann Schröder’s smile stretched wider.

“Don’t what?”

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

“Don’t hurt h—”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Schröder.”

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

“Yes?”

“Don’t touch her.”

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

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

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

“What do you want?!”

Schröder stopped. He brought his hand to a halt just south of your thigh—and then he dropped his weight on the bed beside you. He gestured indistinctly, almost disbelievingly, toward Bucky. The latter appeared near-apoplectic, nails raking down either arm of the chair.

“What do I want?” Schröder quipped, incredulous, “What do you want, doll? To stay married to him?”

And you knew he’d intended the question to be hurtful; you knew it by the glint in his eye, the goading tone of voice and the look he’d flitted to Bucky—nondescript and yet saying a world more than words could ever convey. He knew what had gone on between you, had likely heard your last conversation in its entirety, and was now using it against you. Mostly to taunt, then to injure your husband with truths he hadn’t yet uncovered himself.

Schröder’s eyes were shining with sadistic delight as he took your hand in his. He didn’t waste another second.

“No, no, that isn’t what you want at all, is it?”

Ignoring the screech of Bucky’s restraints as he tried to lunge out of his chair. Hearing him curse when he failed.

“—you said you’re leaving him, right?”

Schröder slid the thin, glistening ring off the hand he’d been holding before you could even think to stop him.

“—said you want a divorce, is that it?”

Then his grin got so big and conceited and enlivened by the sight of pain working its way onto Bucky’s face that any good sense you’d had left inside you was abandoned in a blink. You didn’t hesitate, or else try and make a pass to retrieve your ring—you just hit the man in the face.

Your fist was small, and his chin was hard. You knew before you ever threw the punch that it’d probably hurt you more than him, but you did it anyway. It succeeded, at the very least, in catching Schröder by surprise and swiftly pissing him off. Seeing this and feeling a bit bolder, you were somehow able to dodge his hands when he lurched for you again. Inside, your own anger flared.

“Why the fuck do you care?” you spat.

You found momentary respite in the corner of the bed, sliding back against a wall that would only protect you for so long. As soon as Schröder regained his bearings, he had you back in his sights and his grasp just as quick.

He dragged you back. He pulled you up. He dug the tips of his fingers so hard into your side that you thought the flesh might tear in two across your ribs. But it didn’t. Crescent-like indentations did leave their mark in a grisly set of five, though. You felt the sting of it as Schröder loosened his grip, then sucked his next breath through his teeth as if calming himself. Your gaze only hardened.

“I care,” he said, once he’d completed this slow inhale. He replaced his touch by pinching your face in one hand and bringing it up to his, expression more like a snarl. Then, raising the gun to your face in his other hand, “because I made a deal with your father. Remember?”

You did. Your head jerked back by force of instinct, but he held it. From every direction, then, you had nothing to hear but the sound of your own pulse thrumming a fast, panicked tempo in your skull. You tasted blood in your mouth without a drop on your tongue. And, had that deafening fear and revulsion been anything less, you likely would’ve heard something else beneath it all.

Would’ve felt it, if you weren’t already so numb: Schröder’s hand sliding its way down your body, diamond ring still stuck to the tip of his index finger. You sensed it as though seeing yourself from another perspective—watching his hand trail lower, lower, lower until something in Bucky split in two and he bellowed:

“SCHRÖDER—”

He said something more after that; you were sure of it. You just couldn’t hear him, or see him, or discern much of anything else but your own racing heart as the man who’d just beat your husband twice and lifted a gun to your head proceeded to press his touch to your belly. Almost conscientious and gentle as he lowered it.

“Was this part of the deal, too, doll?”

Your eyes widened. Realizing—then feeling fear seize you completely. Forgetting the metal at your temple and shaking your head with a force, but slow enough that your husband wouldn’t see it. Meanwhile, across from you both, Bucky seemed more than sufficiently occupied by his own blinding rage—he spit a glob of blood to the floor and, with his teeth bared again, swore he’d kill him.

Over and over and over again, oaths of taking Schröder’s life and making it gruesome and painful and slow filled your ears, but none of it stuck, for either you or Schröder. Instead, your maniacal captor just smiled, leaning in.

“I said, was this part of the deal, Mrs. Barnes?”

The heel of his palm sank into your stomach, and as the shock of his first words began to fade, a pain replaced it. His hand made an impressive demonstration of flattening and forcing itself so hard against the skin that a flurry of stars cropped up in your eyes, and you cried:

“Stop! I-It wasn’t— just— just stop. Stop.”

“Stop? Was it part of the deal or not?”

Schröder bore down even harder.

“It just happened!” you keened. Unsure why you felt compelled to answer for what had gone on at all—addressing the baby in this awful, oblique way—though reckoning it had something to do with the pressure he was applying to your stomach. You tried to squirm back.

But your stuttering pulse and your pleading gaze and the ache in your stomach proved to be all too much for any real progress to be made. You’d scarcely moved off an inch before he drove his palm deeper, and with the agony of a body about to rupture beneath it, a shriek clawed out of your throat. Your mouth fell open, and for once, you couldn’t curtail the pain, or fear. Schröder’s hand had just forced the noise from your mouth, along with some mindless, broken pleas to stop pushing, it hurts, please, please, when the face above yours only brightened. Schröder’s cruel, snide mouth flashed a smile above you, and before you could whine again—

He kissed you.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second.

Still, the moment seemed to stretch indefinitely. And felt perverse. So deeply nauseating and unsettling to every last nerve, muscle, tendon, and bone in your body that the response it evoked could be nothing less than visceral. You didn’t need to think at all to shove him off. Whatever might’ve given you pause with a loaded gun to your head was forgotten in a second, and soon enough, you weren’t alone in letting your reproach be known.

It started off with a crack, then a harsh, crude splintering of wood. A violent rift, from what you could hear of it, and when you turned your head, your suspicions were confirmed: Bucky had snapped half the arm of his chair away from the seat, and his right hand was almost freed.

Whatever barrier he faced in being bound more than four times over with rope seemed immaterial to him now. He could strain as hard as he pleased—feel the coarse synthetic fibers dig into his flesh and leave streaks of red, if not break the skin itself—and any pain, as before, hardly appeared to register with your husband at all. He just muscled through it, thrusting his wrist even harder. The whole force of this movement rocked the chair on its legs, and just when you sensed it might collapse beneath his weight, you felt Schröder stand up. The man didn’t need to move too far or do much else other than drop his hold on you and flip his gun to point it at Bucky instead.

Even when he had, though, Bucky didn’t flinch. His hands were in fists and his drive was like a machine’s—he tried forcing his way out of the right hand’s restraints, and the second the wood gave way, he was shoving it off.

Blind to the firearm Schröder was holding, or his words:

“Stay where you are, Barnes.”

Bucky was just then shaking off the rope that had been loosened by the break in the wood, jaw still tight as ever.

“You’ve got three other limbs to free, my friend, just—”

Schröder was still speaking when you saw his finger slip to the trigger, and it seemed to you it was itching to pull.

“James, stop!”

That plea came from you. More of a strangled cry, really—no more pleasant for either man to hear than it was for your throat to shriek. It did, however, stop Bucky cold. Your husband paused just long enough to meet your gaze. And in it, you saw, at least, that he was all there, if not enraged. But not soldat, or anyone else but himself.

You sighed in relief, despite what seeing two red rivers seeping out of Bucky’s mouth might otherwise provoke.

It was him. You might’ve smiled if another hadn’t cut in.

Schröder seized Bucky’s wrist. With it, you saw his hand just as mangled and bloodied as his lips. Knuckles cracked, slit, and soon to be littered with bruises of every shade, he shocked you again by how calmly he took it. Even when Schröder sank a thumb inside a big, gaping crater of a flesh wound he’d found on the back of his hand, your husband didn’t blink; he just looked at you.

‘I’m sorry.’

When the barrel of the gun returned to his head—this time, at the rear, as Schröder had circled back around the half-broken chair and was leaning over him—you could see the apology lodged in his eyes on full display.

“For safekeeping.” The man wielding the gun seemed almost pleased as he dropped your ring inside the breast pocket of your husband’s shirt, before patting it gently:

“Now where were we?”

A beat. Bucky’s right hand twitched beside him, but evidently, he knew better than to move in that moment.

“Right, right—” Schröder pretended to be remembering, tapping steel to Bucky’s skull, “She’s leaving, isn’t she?”

More silence.

You wanted to speak, beg Schröder for mercy, anything.

“Do you know why that is, Bucky?”

But before you could utter even a word of protest, the voice pressed on. Schröder was leaning in his ear.

“—what you did to her?”

The baby. Brooklyn. All the bloodshed that had ensued last week, leaving your husband completely in the dark. Of course, he couldn’t remember. He hadn’t been himself, and was scarcely more able to control his actions as the Winter Soldier than he could in a dream.

To your horror, Schröder reached down for Bucky’s hand, and, still holding the gun to him with the other, lifted it.

Pointed it.

Pushed it closer to you.

“C’mon, Buck. You don’t want me touching her, right? Why don’t you feel for yourself what she’s been hiding?”

Your blood turned to ice. You’d never felt so immobile—paralyzed—in your life, but seeing the hands drift closer and closer and feeling defenseless to their course, your body went numb. Your limbs grew heavier than lead.

And when you felt the smug, smiling blond guide your husband’s touch toward your head, you understood it all.

You were perched at the edge of the bed a foot away. Schröder was nudging Bucky forward in his chair, urging him to reach out and tilt her chin a little, go on, that’s it. And neither one of you had a choice, so he touched you. His fingers, directed by someone else, were obliged to brush the skin of your chin, your jaw, your cheek, and your brow, before finally settling above your left temple.

Your husband felt the cut—touched the stitches.

You winced, but not from any physical pain. It was Bucky’s face as the tips of his fingers skimmed the wound. The look of chagrin that crossed his eyes. Then bewilderment. Fear, as plain as anyone could see it— was he the cause of that? Had the hurt been from him?

You couldn’t bear to answer him, so you looked away. It was Schröder, again, who had all the power to speak.

“Can’t remember pushing her down?” he said, tone dark, “Making her split her head open on the bedside table because soldat didn’t know his own strength—only that he had to keep her safe—and sensed a threat outside?”

Bucky shook his head. His face was grave.

Schröder kept making him prod the skin.

“It’s bruised here, too. You feel it?”

Your husband did, and you thought it might break him. So tender and forlorn were the eyes, raking over every spot where a touch, his touch, had left you hurt before.

If nothing else could bring you back to your senses, the wounded look in Bucky’s gaze was sure to get it done.

You hardly thought again, just croaked: ‘It’s not his fault.’

Schröder’s hand then descended your neck, your torso.

As if he hadn’t heard you at all—

“You already saw what happened to her hand.”

—and forcing Bucky’s touch lower still.

“But what about here?”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt your husband’s hand come to rest on your stomach.

It was like a fire had ignited in your lower half, and nothing close to the soft, pleasurable kind. Not the flutter felt in anticipation of a touch from your husband, not the desirous sort. In fact, you dreaded it now; seeing Schröder over his shoulder, urging him closer, making him flatten his big, broad, scorching palm over your belly.

What should’ve been the ecstatic scene you’d conjured in your mind at least a hundred times since marrying him—the picture of domestic bliss as you said it, smiling, I’m pregnant—was now nothing short of torture. Choice all but stripped from you here, forced to emerge inside this terrible place, you found yourself needing to shrink back, shake your head, look to Schröder’s stubborn, unyielding gaze and beg him not to make you do this now. Not now.

Not here, with Bucky’s skin a shade of glacial white and his eyes going wide, taking on a look you’d never seen.

“What do you—”

He stared hard at the hand on your belly, but it didn’t last for long. As if realization were trying to seep in, he couldn’t meet it. His eyes flitted back to your face.

“Baby, what’s—” he tried again, stammering.

“—right, that’s it, Mr. Barnes.” That was Schröder.

Satisfied in the suspense of the moment keeping your husband still, he lifted his hand from Bucky’s and snapped, that’s it, and clapped him over the shoulder.

Congratulating him before the truth had even sunk in.

“A baby, that’s right! You’re going to be a father, Buck.”

And how far was the look on Bucky’s face from the one you’d dreamed before. The lips you’d envisioned in a smile now twisting bleakly, parting slightly, and the eyes you’d once hoped to be bright and elated only staring back with rings of red enveloping the irises. Whatever tears formed at his waterline were decidedly not of joy.

Only guilt.

“You did it.”

Desperation.

More moisture in his eyes as his hand started to tremble across your stomach, voice hoarse and soft, “Is it true?”

You didn’t need to nod. You just watched him, let your own eyes fill with the worst, stinging tears you had felt in your life, and from the silence that followed, Bucky knew.

As if the life beneath his palm were something dear, but still too much for him to comprehend, he shook his head. He stroked his thumb over the cotton of your pyjamas and tried inching closer, as much as his restraints would allow him. Then, with words that were audibly strained, but always gentle, he lowered his voice—as if to keep the communication between you two, despite your position:

“I love you.”

His hand was still on your belly as he said it. He reached up to cup your face. Even lower than before, “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

That much was evident from every look he’d given you tonight. Every move he made a de facto apology, all actions in the vein of atonement, it couldn’t possibly escape your mind or his that he knew he’d done wrong. It was only a matter of accepting this—maybe coming to terms with the fact that your life wasn’t safe in his hands—for the guilt plaguing Bucky to multiply. Paralyze him.

There was no better time for Schröder to strike. Just as the anguish had flooded Bucky’s face completely, and his hand had had to lower itself from want of strength, a sound split the air. Bucky was so lost in his thoughts that it didn’t even register at first, but the impact was real, and it was harsh: Schröder punched him squarely in the jaw. The next, swift snap was his nasal bone taking a blow, and breaking beneath it. Blood breezed down and into his mouth. Feeling warm, his lips and chin doused in a second, he sensed nothing else. He might’ve groaned.

He caught another swift right hook, and his mind went blank. Nothing of substance threatened to materialize between his ears, save for the rush of blood through and from his skull and the dim recognition of something ugly.

Something horrific.

He couldn’t protect you.

His body was as much an idle waste as it was a danger. Useless now, as he was tied to this chair, and a risk to your well-being even if he weren’t. The hazard was him.

Schröder hit him again, and Bucky realized that the ringing he’d heard in his ears was your screaming.

“I’m doing her a favor,” Schröder spat before shoving him back in the chair, almost knocking it sideways.

The blond advanced with ease. His knuckles were drenched in blood; none of it was his. When he reached for Bucky again, the resistance was slight, and a simple, firm grip on the collar was all that was needed to drag his frame to sit straight. Bucky was barely upright for a second before the next—and worst—blow struck his face. His whole head rang with it, reeling, but still, he could make out the words as they were spoken to him.

“She’ll never be safe with you, Barnes. Never—” and at the last, Schröder lowered his gun. Started to loosen the rope from Bucky’s left arm, “—I could free you now, and you still wouldn’t get within an inch of what you want.”

He nudged the rope away and let it fall to the floor. Bucky lifted his hand, but the effort was in vain. No sooner had a finger of his stirred than Schröder was delivering a kick to the chair and letting it splinter. Topple. Skitter a half-foot across the hardwood floor with Bucky’s ankles still bound to it, before finally, gracelessly, breaking apart.

Bucky was on the floor, blinking through a stream of blood and a sea of muddied thoughts when Schröder kicked the chair again. The rope slackened some more.

“Her own father knew as much, so he made me a deal to take her off of your hands. Settle his debts the way he should’ve done the first time around,” Schröder said, and now his tone was lower. Lethal as it ever was, and stern.

“I know how much you hate to lose your playthings, Buck, but this one’s better off with me, I promise.”

And, as if to emphasize his point, Schröder turned and reached for you. Bucky’s own hands were slow, fumbling in fits and bursts to get the rope unwound from his ankles, but they were determined. He just couldn’t get the bleeding to stop, the ringing to subside, or his brain, in its concussed state, to let him move with a little more agility. He’d been hit too many times. He could barely lift his head off his shoulders and hold it straight, so he was forced to stay where he was, keep at his task, and listen.

“You’re weak when you’re not soldat.”

Using his knuckles, Schröder brushed the blood that was evidently all Bucky’s across your cheek, and you flinched.

“When you make the switch, still…you’re inhuman.”

Then he tilted your head, making you show them both the mutilated, stitched-up flesh above your temple. Again, you tried to slink away, but his touch was firm.

“Don’t you think your bride deserves better than that? Your child? Forced to live in fear of that thing you are?”

Blood coursed down Bucky’s face, and his lips were curled apart in a grimace, mouth hanging slightly ajar. His eyes fixed their look on you. The rope was undone.

He’d just started to try and stand when the edge of his vision blurred. He felt the lacerations in his face pulse as one, and with it, half his sight went skewed to the left. Schröder couldn’t help but crack a smile seeing him stumble, pitch back, and barely catch himself on the bedside table. When he stood, he was mostly hunched.

“Look at you, Buck. You can’t try and save her like this,” Schröder taunted, drawing you closer, “So stop trying.”

The man’s hand was like ice holding your face. The grip grew tighter when he saw your husband limping your way, and before either one of you could move, the index of Schröder’s other hand had slid down to the trigger. He didn’t wait to give another warning before he did it—just pointed the gun and fired one shot over Bucky’s head.

His aim was good. The bullet missed your husband by less than an inch. The gun had gone off by your ear, and immediately, you seized the side of your head as a sharp, searing pain cropped up. Your skull was still ringing when you heard the thing discharge again, and you realized it had been aimed at Bucky’s neck. He’d ventured another step, and Schröder had fired a second round to graze the top of his shoulder. Crimson bloomed through his shirt.

Bucky should’ve stumbled again. He might’ve staggered back with a grunt of pain, lifted a quick, reflexive hand to feel the wound, but the sense of it all was slow to reach him. The moments that passed him were delayed just the same, as if the world around him were distorted—the fibers of time tugged and stretched before his eyes—and he could hardly keep himself straight. When he got another look down the barrel of the gun, he didn’t blink. Couldn’t see, really. It was all misshapen sights and sounds and a dim recognition that his mind was in a fog.

Somewhere from within that mist, he heard, faintly:

“I’ll go— I’ll go— I’ll go with you, I’ll go— just stop.”

Schröder turned to you, and the smile that he wore was cruel, but Bucky wasn’t able to make out the expression.

All he could see then, to the faintest extent, was you—your face, gripped hard in another man’s hand, eyes pleading and wet with tears, and a slightly slack jaw.

“Leave him for me?” Schröder repeated, sneering.

You nodded. Blinked. Rolled your tongue along the inside of your cheek before pulling it back and biting down once. There was a hint of a wince in your eyes, but, from what Bucky could tell, it vanished just as fast as it came.

Your lips parted again. Your eyes widened a little.

“So the girl has some fucking sense.” That was Schröder.

He’d had his weapon re-holstered and your face firmly seized in both of his hands in no more than a second.

What came next surprised no one, though the sensations of disgust and rage were as quick to turn a stomach as the shock would have done. Schröder bent down and, having pulled your face closer to his, kissed you again.

Schröder’s mouth was glistening with a grin and Bucky’s own blood—smeared all over your face from how hard he’d been holding you—when he looked up and turned.

“Sensible and sweet, isn’t she? Tastes like it, too.”

Bucky saw nothing but red. It wasn’t just blood crowding his vision now but violence and rancor and outright hatred, stirring his limbs to start moving again when the rest of his body was plainly too battered to venture an inch in that condition. He staggered again, watched you again, and had made it almost halfway across the room when another sight slowed him, if only for a moment.

Schröder’s lips were back on yours, as if to mock him, but what startled him, really, was the way you’d opened your mouth. You couldn’t mean it. Clearly. Schröder was gripping your jaw, forcing it open—it had to be—and he was coaxing your tongue out from inside and weaving it with his. Once more, time moved like molasses, and that was all your husband had had to see: you kissing him back, gripping his arm through the thick, black tactical gear, and still parting your lips more and more for him. Like you needed a touch, or something, worse than ever.

That stalled Bucky, though he was nowhere close to stopping now. Briefly preoccupied, and seemingly shocked as well that you’d accepted the kiss so eagerly this time, Schröder didn’t see the approach. If he had, he likely would’ve turned and made a move for his Ruger, but as it was, he had only to blink—and there was Bucky.

He hit him with a force that was blinding, directly to the side of his head so hard that he’d had no choice but to separate from you. Schröder was stunned one second and on the floor in the next. Bucky threw him there, kicked him down, and, wavering for only a moment to cock back the shoulder that’d been shot, he ignored the pain and punched the man again. And again. And again.

There was a callousness, an indolence, and an ease with which he was able to inflict the pain, that much was evident. What didn’t seem so natural, at least in Bucky’s mind, was the weight that was in his hands: Schröder’s body felt limp before he’d even landed the second blow.

The pressure grew heavier and heavier in his hands the harder, and more frequently, he delivered each hit, but for now, he didn’t care. Bucky kept on punching until the face beneath him was gnarled and bloody, and his own fist, too, slashed every which way with more cuts than he was able to count. He would’ve kept going—could’ve ignored the stabbing pain in his shoulder for as long as it would take to ensure the man was dead—but as it was, he refused to ignore the voice he heard. It was yours.

Muffled now, as your body was bent to the side and your head drooped lower still. Your voice was soft but clear:

“Bucky, please, stop.”

He did.

He dropped the man’s collar from his hands as soon as he’d heard you say it, and he turned away as if nothing had transpired behind him at all. His focus was on you.

“Baby—”

To his surprise, he watched you spit on the floor.

Your face was grim and almost sick, and you spit again.

The look grew even worse, and afterward, you didn’t waste a second more; you stood and left the room.

Bucky was stunned at first, and his instinct had been to follow. Then he heard a rattling sound beside him. He glanced down and paled, seeing Schröder there.

His face had turned blue much sooner than Bucky had expected—and not from any bruising but a lack of oxygen in his lungs. He was choking, foaming slightly at the mouth while he gasped for air. Surely, it hadn’t been the hits that caused it. The whites of Schröder’s eyes were as conspicuous as he’d ever seen them. Desperate.

Bucky swiftly got the sense that the life of his former captor was lost, and frankly, he didn’t care enough to watch him die. He left what remained of Schröder’s form to continue writhing on the floor, choking and sputtering for a breath that would never come, and went after you.

Downstairs, he found you hunched over the kitchen sink—spitting, retching, and trembling, too, but breathing.

You let the water from the faucet fill your mouth, and you rinsed again. You winced as something stuck your cheek.

Bucky drew closer, quickly, and when he was right by your side, he saw you spit a shard of glass into the sink. He looked over to the counter, and he spotted three more

They were minuscule, really. Nothing quite the size to leave a wound too deep, but sharp enough to cut your lips, your tongue, or the insides of your cheeks. When Bucky leaned in, he saw droplets of red joining the flow of the water beneath it. You coughed over and over again

“Don’t,” you croaked, seeing Bucky reach for the glass.

Before he could reply: “It’s the poison. From Madripoor.”

Your husband’s blood went cold in his veins. He didn’t touch the glass, but he did press closer to you, feeling his insides churn as the cogs started to turn in his head.

The vial of poison you’d been given to slip in Schröder’s drink at the Foxy Den—how the hell had you gotten it back? Why would you think you needed it, if he— but no, that couldn’t be the case. There wasn’t a shot you just—

“—put it in your mouth?” Bucky couldn’t curb the fear in his voice. He reached for you and spun you to face him.

“Did it kill him?”

Your eyes were wide for entirely different reasons. Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing; his mouth was dry.

“I didn’t want to kiss him,” you went on, voice shaking a little, “I didn’t— I just— I couldn’t get him the poison any other way. I knew he’d kiss me again, and when he did—”

“I know,” Bucky said. He smoothed the hair from your face, shaking his head. Feeling his stomach clench with fear and dread as he hurried to get a look in your mouth.

You’d snuck the vial inside your cheek, then crushed it between your teeth before Schröder had kissed you. You’d all but forced him to swallow the poison, shoving your tongue down his throat, but what of the stuff that remained? The rough, trembling fingers of Bucky’s hand were trying to pry your lips apart as gently as they could, ensure all the serum was out, but at present, you wouldn’t let him. You pushed back gently, though not too far to prevent your own touch from roaming his shoulder.

“The bullet—” you started.

“Barely nicked me,” Bucky cut in, “Baby, I need to see—”

That you’re safe. That you won’t be hurt in any way. He couldn’t finish the thought himself, having seen what the poison did to Schröder. Instead, he just held you closer and fought the lump that was starting to form in his throat. Adrenaline had worked well enough to clear his mind of the haze, but the rest of him was all high-strung.

Your clothes clung to you both, wet with blood and sweat. Your breaths were fast. Your expressions were feral, eyes no calmer as they scanned over the other’s form and soaked in every trace of what had happened. Bucky in his formalwear and you in something close to a chemise—like your honeymoon night all over again—you each got a glimpse of the gore ornamenting yourselves and let the room fall quiet, if only for a minute or two.

Your husband was the one to break the silence, at length, with cracked and grisly hands sliding down to your hips.

“You’re okay?”

His touch shifted you back in place to sit on the counter.

“I’m alright.”

You wanted to say more; assure him, in a voice as sedate as you could manage, that this wasn’t his fault. Whether he would believe a word of what you said was a separate question, but, at any rate, it didn’t matter. The next thing you knew, Bucky was slotting himself in the space between your legs and pulling you into his arms.

In spite of himself and all the wounds, he held you tight.

“You’re alright,” he repeated.

His face sank into the crook of your neck, and you felt his muscles contract again—pulling you closer—as he drew a shaky breath against your skin. You hugged him back.

“Are you?” Your voice was small.

In a blink, Bucky resurfaced. He lifted his head from your neck and, still holding you, hadn’t seemed to have heard.

“The baby,” he said quickly.

He stepped back. Lowered his gaze and his hands to trail over your hips and near your stomach, and he stared, as if trying to make sense of something dire. His blue eyes were wide, and they assumed such a look of panic that you feared a blood vessel might actually burst in one.

After all the great lengths he’d gone to, ensuring you were safe and taking extra precautions, on the off-chance you might be pregnant, here you were.

And there he went, sliding his touch lower and lower again until his hand was pressed into your belly, and the gaze you’d once thought soft before had all but melted into tenderness—delicacy. Complete, loving unreserve.

When his eyes met yours a second time, they were shiny.

Wet with the only kind of tears you’d want to see in them.

“You’re really…” he started, just to taper off, blinking.

And then his cheeks were dotted with the tiny, round droplets, and he’d finally ventured a smile for the first time in what seemed like ages and you couldn’t keep from reaching for him. The second you’d lifted your arms you were back in his, lips and nose smushed against the front of his stained white button-up and breathing deep.

Or trying to, anyway. Bucky had you squeezed so tight to his chest you had nothing but his shirt to inhale at first. You didn’t mind, and when he pulled away a moment later, you realized that your eyes, too, were filling up quick. You had to steel yourself against a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to emerge—the aftermath of a half-dozen traumas laid bare over the last hour—but the longer you were here, and the more your husband stared at you like that, the quicker your courage was depleted. In the span of five seconds, your senses were shot to hell. All you could think was what you could feel, and all you felt was Bucky: his arms and his hands and the raw, blistering heat between your bodies. The rest was noise.

It surprised you both when you kissed him. Physically, your mouth and his were hardly up to do it, injured as they were, but the impulse was strong, and it flowed between you. As soon as your lips latched onto his, Bucky was holding your face, molding his body to yours without so much as a second thought, and the mouth you met was sturdy. Hungry in the way it kissed back.

A string of words from Schröder flashed in your mind—‘Never be safe’—and you grit your teeth together, snagging the cusp of Bucky’s lower lip as you did it. He groaned. Before you could even try to apologize, though, he was gripping your face harder in his hands and coaxing your mouth open with his tongue. His front was still flush with yours, and your legs were starting to wind around his hips. Your husband nudged you back against the cabinets, and from the force of that push, you felt it.

Felt him.

Surely, it had had to take two very fucked up individuals to get all hot and bothered from a bloodbath that had just taken place; but, again, here you were—together.

And there you went, grinding your lower half with his.

“Doll?” Bucky broke out, word slurred just a little.

For a second, you thought he was going to stop you. Your eyes scanned his, and you were already planning to apologize for being so horny, it must just be the—

“You know I love you, right?” he breathed.

You blinked. You were about to nod, when you felt the bulge in his slacks start to rub against your barely-clothed heat, and something akin to a shockwave coursed through your frame. It couldn’t be helped. A monsoon of hyper-sensitized pleasure trembled over the skin in a way you’d never felt it before, and suddenly you were letting out a moan: a muffled cry of, ‘Yes, I-I know.’

Your husband swallowed and stared, slightly taken aback by the reaction his erection had produced. He’d never felt that either. At least from what he could remember.

The truth was that he’d never had a pregnant wife before—someone whose body was now extraordinarily responsive to his touch, nearly aching for him.

When you scooted your butt to the edge of the counter and dug your heels in the backs of his legs, humping him, almost, he got the idea. Bucky swallowed again.

“I love you too, I— I—” you started, already out of breath, “I just really need you to fuck me. Can you— please—”

Bucky didn’t need to be asked once, much less twice. He already had his belt, button, and zip undone before you could even look down, and then your own pyjama shorts were sliding off too. The counter was cool against your skin, but your husband’s warmth was more than enough to compensate for the loss. You smiled again, sheepish.

“It’s just…hormones,” you said, quieter toward the end.

You weren’t sure why you felt so ashamed to simply say, ‘James, I’ve been damn near insane with desire ever since you put a baby in me. Can you give me five more?’ But you did. You felt your cheeks start to heat as your lower half was left exposed to the air, and Bucky slipped his hand down between your legs, practically groaning:

“Honey, you’re soaked.”

There wasn’t one iota of shame in his tone.

He was more than happy to find you drenched beneath his touch. He had a smile on his face and a warmth bleeding from every fingertip as he caressed that soft, tender spot. You didn’t need to tell him what was on your mind, either. He sensed something was making you shy, and rather than have you say it aloud, he just touched you gentler, stroked the skin more affectionately, and tilted his head so only you could hear him, quiet as ever:

“That’s my girl. Feeling good for me?”

You felt your heartbeat between your thighs.

“My baby,” Bucky went on, voice dulcet and slow.

Your body was trembling at the edge, waiting. Impatient.

“My wife,” he said that with a smile, into your neck.

He lowered you onto his length, and you whined.

“Mother of my child.” The smile got bigger.

You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. Feeling him slide inside the most precious, wet, pliable part of you, stretching you out, you couldn’t help the sounds you made. You felt full in a whole new way; the groan Bucky let out when you were impaled down to the base of his cock said he shared the feeling. He throbbed inside you.

“You’re—fuck.” Bucky’s words broke off at the sensation.

Your walls were as slick as ever, your body delicate, rolling your hips to the first gentle thrusts that his shaft carved inside. Neither one of you could last long like this.

Still, at the threat of sublime pleasure, you felt fear, briefly: Schröder’s implacable stare—and the thousands more like him in HYDRA. You couldn’t help but grip Bucky tighter, willing these thoughts away with the rhythm of your body over his. Feeling him fill you up, fuck you with quick, deliberate thrusts and hold you, ‘That’s it, take what you need, sweet girl, you’re okay.’

You wished you were. You wanted to be. With every stab of Bucky’s hips, you hoped this would be the last night you ever feared for you or your child’s life, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t true. This was everything your husband’s varied ‘enterprises’ entailed, and a life with him meant never knowing a day without it—fear.

The head of Bucky’s cock grazed an especially sensitive ridge in your walls, and you whimpered into his shoulder.

You smelled blood.

He pushed you back against the counter and pounded harder, breaths heavy and labored and gruff as he spoke:

“You’re okay, baby, it’s alright.”

Your mind tried clinging to that thought, nodding along as if to convince yourself. The pleasure grew stronger, and your body was hot. Everything was heightened. Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes or his lips or his rough, bloodied touch from roaming you wherever he could reach, and he kept rutting his hips, assuring you gently, again and again, that it was all okay. He was right here.

The pleasure from the depths of your body was beyond your control—you couldn’t help it when the band inside of you snapped. You held Bucky closer and you moaned, more desperate and needy and soaking for him, taking something from him, and knowing the bliss you felt would only steal the dark thoughts for a moment or two.

Bucky’s eyes said it just the same. He couldn’t keep stuffing you full, feeling his pleasure hit its peak, and finally painting your insides without sharing that look.

You were less than halfway down from your highs when you felt him go still, panting fast, then hold your face.

“I love you.”

It was desperate. Hoping for something.

“I love you, too,” you told him, and you meant it.

But there was more. Both of you knew there was more.

“I can’t be married to you, Bucky.”

You didn’t know why it had to come out now, but the emotions were there—his gaze had all but drawn it out.

Still sheathed inside you, your husband tensed. He looked as if he might try and shake his head, but the movement was stalled by his own momentary shock. He’d known the words were coming, but the sound of you saying them now wasn’t any less jarring to hear. Before he could reply, you found yourself cutting back in:

“Not now, at least. We need some…time. To think.”

You weren’t sure what you were saying, just that your lips were moving and every new word was hurting him more.

“Even with Schröder gone, there are so many…dangers for both—or, all—of us, and I don’t know…I just can’t—”

—imagine bringing a child into a world like this. Like his.

You didn’t need to say it.

The pain in Bucky’s eyes already communicated as much, and the conviction in your own only convinced him that you’d meant it—and what you said was the truth. You couldn’t stay in a marriage that wasn’t safe.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something more, the man surprised you when he squeezed your hand.

Nodding, almost imperceptibly, in front of you.

“I can wait,” he said, “Whenever you’re ready, doll.”

His voice was hoarse, words strained from the lump in his throat as he spoke, but the message was sincere.

“Whenever you feel safe,” he added, softly.

You wanted to hold him again. Like before, your eyes began to well with something stinging and harsh, but the look you’d fixed on him was filled with nothing but love. You would’ve reached for him then, if he hadn’t moved his hand to his pocket. He felt around inside it, briefly.

Then Bucky retrieved your wedding ring.

Holding you up against him, pressed snugly into the counter with your legs still wrapped around his lower half, he pinched the silver band between his forefinger and thumb and held it up to you. It glistened in the light.

“The next time you wear it, I want it to be because you chose to marry me. Not for anything, or anyone, else.”

Nothing arranged, no game, no being forced to stay.

You nodded and had to blink through a layer of tears.

Bucky’s thumb traced the moisture, cupping your cheek in one of his hands. He’d had to keep blinking himself, and before you could reach for him, he kissed you.

“I really hope you marry me again one day, Mrs. Barnes.”

You smiled, having parted but still holding on.

“I think I would like that, too. One day.”

The next thing you heard was a sound at the front door: what sounded like a crash. Half a dozen sets of feet stumbling inside, crowding the foyer, making a loud, frantic clamor that you and Bucky knew only too well. The two of you scrambled to get your clothes back on as Steve, Nat, Sam, and Sharon all seemed to yell at once.

You had one hell of a story to tell them.

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[sturnsmia]

𝑯𝑰𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…your assigned to be a private chef for the sturniolo’s for the night and chris seems to take a special interest towards you.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 smut, p in v, backshots, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, dumbification kink, male masturbation

the leaves from the trees in the backyard softly rustle from the autumn breeze as you place down utensils and plates on the clothed table. you have always loved cooking for others and experimenting with new recipes. that’s what sparked the idea to become a professional chef and share your passion with everyone. you were awaiting your next clients, three famous youtubers who rented out an airbnb for a fancy hibachi dinner. you finished placing down bottles of miscellaneous condiments before hearing the gate to the backyard open. three figures walked in with a man holding a camera following close behind.

“hi! you guys must be the sturniolos.” you greeted with a smile as you approached them. “i’m y/n, i’ll be cooking for you guys tonight.” you explained, sticking your hand out towards the boy in a blue shirt.

“that’s us! i’m nick, and this is matt and chris.” he pointed to his left. your gaze shifted as you smiled brightly at matt and chris, you felt a flush creep on your cheeks as chris held eye contact with you. although though the three boys looked the same you were captivated by him almost instantly.

“it’s nice to meet you all! are you ready to get started?” you quickly blurted out to distract yourself from the slightly awkward interaction. they all nodded before following behind you to their dinner table.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“okay let’s get started! watch closely cause one of you guys will have to try this next.” you explained, beginning to flip your special hibachi spatula and knife between your hands. you swiftly spun the utensils towards nick, pretending to throw it at him before quickly retracing it back towards you. the three boys watched in awe at your tricks.

“that was sick.” chris announced from beside you, nodding his head in approval at your performance. matt and nick chuckled from beside him before speaking up. “chris why don’t you go up there and try?” nick insisted to his younger brother.

“yeah come on up here and give it a try!” you encouraged stepping aside to allow him to be in front of the stove. chris smiled and rolled his eyes as his brothers cheered him on, you handed him the utensils and began guiding him. “alright so your going to hold this hand in place and flick your wrist forward for the spinning motion.” you instructed, placing your hands on his and guiding him through the process.

“alright alright i got this.” chris laughed at his brothers. he tapped the spatula on the stove before attempting to spin it through the prongs of the utensil, ultimately failing. nick and matt chanted a “boo” at their brothers failure. you giggled at their bickering before looking back at chris.

“hey the form was pretty good! let’s try one more time.” you said with a smile. your skirt slightly rid up as you bent over in front of chris, unknowingly revealing your lacy black panties beneath your sheer tights. after retrieving the spatula on the ground and picked up the utensil and wiped it gently on your black skirt. chris could feel his dick start to twitch beneath his pants as he stared down at you.

after another attempt at your trick, chris failed and sat back down allowing his brothers a chance to try. he watched as you giggled alongside matt and nick while they tried your movements, only nick was successful. chris didn’t even pay attention to his brothers, his gaze was fixated on you. the way your hair sat perfectly on your shoulders and how your tits sat perfectly in the black collared shirt you wore, the three buttons you left undone showed the perfect amount of cleavage. he shifted in his char to subtly adjust the prominent tent against his pants. but the more he shifted his mind raced with desire and aching for release.

“i have to use the bathroom i’ll be back.” chris stated, quickly walking towards the house to avoid anyone noticing the strain in his sweats from his erection. as soon as he reached the bathroom door he slammed it shut and locked it. he untied his sweatpants and yanks them down, shoving his hand into his boxers. springing his dick from his pants and wrapping his hand around it he pumps his hand, moaning lowly. picturing it was your hand on his cock, chris’s hand moved faster up and down his shaft breathing heavily.

“alright you guys enjoy that rice and i’ll be preparing your next dish!” you smiled handing matt and nick their bowls. they both said a quick “thank you” before you walked back into the house. as you made your way to the kitchen and opened the fridge to get some eggs you heard low noises coming from the bathroom.

chris was too caught up with his movements and thoughts to hear the footsteps approaching the door behind him. he let out another groan as his hand moved faster.

you knew it was wrong, but your feet stayed planted in front of the bathroom door. you were going to step away until you heard chris moaning your name. your mind starts to wander as you imagine chris getting himself off from you. the thought alone sends a wave of heat through your body, chris’ noises went straight to your core, soaking onto your panties. you could picture everything you wanted chris to do to you. a lightbulb went off in your brain before you quickly walked back down the hallway.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

after realizing how long he had been away, chris cleaned himself up and started walking back down the hallway before stopping in his tracks, seeing you stare him down from the kitchen.

“you were in there for an awfully long time.” you stated with your arms crossed over your chest. chris swallowed hard, he didn’t respond as you slowly walked towards him.

“oh, uh sorry. were you waiting for the bathroom?” he stuttered, he didn’t think he was being that loud.

“if you wanted help chris, you could’ve just asked.” you mumbled with a smile creeping on your lips.

without a second thought chris smashed his lips onto yours. he pushed your back into the kitchen counter, before pulling away. “are you okay with this?” chris asked with heavy breaths, you immediately nodded and crashed your lips onto his again. he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, the both of you fighting for dominance and hungry with desire. chris toyed with the waistband of your skirt before you broke away from the kiss.

“chris don’t tease” you whined, trailing your manicured hands on his bicep.

“tell me what you want angel.”

“please just touch me.” you whispered, barley audible but laced with need. that was all chris needed to hear before tearing your skirt and tights down to your feet, leaving you in only your lacy black panties. you gasped as chris pressed his fingers against your clothed clit.

“you think you’re so sneaky hm? bending over in front of me and showing off that pretty little ass of yours. purposely tryin to get me worked up huh?” chris taunted, attaching his lips to your neck, attacking you with wet kisses and hickies. with his free hand he pulled the delicate fabric down to your feet, exposing your soaked core to the cool air.

“barley even touched ya and you’re already soaked.” he laughed darkly. without any warning he slide one of his long fingers inside of you. an airy moan escaped your lips as chris pumped his finger in and out of you.

“can you handle another one baby? god, you look so pretty under my touch.” chris whined, using his other hand to pry your legs apart. you nodded quickly. “use your words.” he insisted.

“yes! please put in another i-i can handle it!” you moaned in desperation. chris inserted another finger, making your back arch further. his fingers curled up inside of you, repeatedly hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars. you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out when he began rubbing circles on your clit, chris pressed his lips on yours to silence your noises, not wanting his brothers to hear anything. your walls clench around his fingers, whining as he increased his speed.

the squelching noises from his fingers combined with your moans could make chris cum already. he took one of his hands and undid your shirt, groaning at the sight of your tits pushed together from the red lacy bra. detaching his lips from yours, he left a trail of wet kisses from your neck to the valley of your breasts.

“chr-chris ngh i-i’m close.” you whimpered, feeling the tension coiling tighter within you.

but the feeling had stopped, you looked at chris who had pulled his fingers away from you and into his mouth, a sinister grin on his face. before you could protest, he gripped your hips tightly and spun you around, pressing you against the kitchen counter. he ridded himself out of his sweatpants and boxers with his dick springing out and hitting his stomach. he let out low grunts as he pumped himself a couple times before lining himself with your entrance.

chris didn’t waste another second before slamming into you, causing a loud pornographic moan to rip from your throat. his animalistic pace left your hips digging into the counter, surely to leave bruises. he held your waist tightly to keep you upright as he pounds into you. chris’s hand trails down your spine and presses down on it lightly to arch your back farther allowing him to hit deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy.

“mmh—fuck! f-feels so good!” you moaned as your eyes rolled back into your head. your hands scrape at the marble counter for something to keep you stable. salty tears pooled in your eyes from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

“shit—you’re so fuckin tight. i can feel your pussy squeezing around me.” chris laughs lowly next to your ear. tears stained your cheeks as you pant heavily, jolting with every moment. chris toys with your clit once more, soft moans leaving his mouth and loud ones leaving yours. he sticks his fingers between your lips causing you to gag. “shh be quiet f’me alright?”

chris continues to drill his dick into your pussy, his tip hitting the perfect spot with every thrust. sweat drips down your temple, mixing with your tear stained cheeks. you could barley even think straight as your lost in the overwhelming sensation coursing throughout your body.

“look at you, such a dirty little slut. getting fucked dumb on my cock, knowing my brothers could walk in at any second.”

the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes throughout the kitchen along with your breathless moans and his low grunts. chris takes his fingers out of your mouth before gripping your ass harshly, sending a couple hard smacks to your skin. you tremble beneath his touch as your walls spasm around his shaft, your climax building in your lower stomach.

“chris i—oh my god, mmh close—need to cum!” you babbled as tears and drool covered you cheeks. chris didn’t stop his relentless pace, continuing to pound into your tight hole.

“yeah? you gonna cum all over my cock for me sweetheart?” chris asks, landing another hard smack on your ass. you nodded as you felt the coil in your tummy threatening to snap at any second. your inner walls squeezing around his dick. “go ahead then, pretty girl, don’t hold back.”

you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your climax, releasing all over his cock that fucks your through your high. chris’s thrust become sloppy before he pulls out and paints your ass with warm white streaks. your legs shook as chris turned you around to face him, hoisting your thighs onto the countertop. he presses soft kisses on your inner thigh as you pant above him.

“you did so good f’me angel.” chris praised, prying your legs open before pressing his lips to your puffy folds. you whine from the sensitivity as he laps his tongue around your bundle of nerves, cleaning up the mess you made. your hand flew to his brunette curls, causing him to groan. his sounds vibrated against your sensitive nub. he pressed a gentle kiss before pulling away from your abused cunt with a wet pop, pulling his lips to yours. the taste of your orgasm still lingering on his lips.

chris adjusted his boxers and sweats before helping you back into your tights and skirt. he brushed a loose piece of hair behind your ear and pressed a kiss to your temple. “you okay?” you gave him a quiet “mhm” and reassuring smile before nick and matt walked into the kitchen with a disgusted look on their face.

“are you guys done yet i’m literally starving.”

𝐱𝐨𝐱𝐨, 𝐦𝐢𝐚 ♡

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆, ok so i did make some mistakes the first time posting this so im re-uploading !! this is my first time writing smut so please be nice. i can’t lie i don’t like it 😣, something about it is like really bad but I DONT KNOW. also i didn’t proofread this so if the perspectives change a lot i apologize lol. i hope u guys liked this and send me anons and asks so i can talk to u!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋆˚࿔ ౨ৎ ˚. ᵎᵎ @sirenedeslily @freshloveee

[jjunieworld]

MEET ME AT OUR SPOT ˒˒ 심재윤 ▸  part one of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag

with the news of your grandma’s depleting health, life has you moving to your mother’s seaside hometown for the summer to your aunt’s. while there, you meet the illustrious player—jake sim—that everyone can’t seem to stop talking about. what you never expected was to gain his attention and spend the three months you’re there falling for him.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 jungwon, lifeguard!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, fluff, strangers to temporary lovers, beach au, summer fling/summer love, lifeguard!jake, blonde!jake, kindaaa slow burn, h2o jokes references (i had to), slice of life, lifeguarding & surfing inaccuracies, reader is jungwon’s cousin

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ player!jake, toxic!jake, soft dom!jake, subtle manipulation, reader and hana almost drown once, mentions of reader’s dad passing (before story) and grandma’s depleting health, alcohol, skinny dipping, corruption kink, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, unprotected sex (condoms!), fingering, oral fixation, oral (f. rec), semi-public sex?, jake is jealous and a little possessive, he’s also lowkey a munch, hair pulling, cum eating?, petnames (baby, pretty), praise, jake talks you through it, creampie, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, marking

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ this is mainly for @jjunberry (who held me at gunpoint to make this fic about jake), so echo i hope you enjoy!! ♡ i might make a part two,,, not sure! i have some ideas for it, but it depends on how everyone is feeling! >ㅅ< let me know what you think!! divider is by @/cafekitsune :D i hope you all enjoy!!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 22k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

your mom nudged you awake just as the plane was beginning to land. you rubbed your bleary eyes and blinked rapidly to try and get your eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. nudging you again, your mom said, “wake up, we’re about to land.”

rolling your sore neck out, you sat up in your chair and looked around the plane at all the other passengers preparing themselves for the landing. you sighed softly to yourself, you never really liked planes—not that you’ve been on many. you were flying from the small town you called home to the small seaside hometown of your mother’s on the request of your aunt.

your aunt’s phone call still replayed in your head. you and your mom were in the middle of making lunch together when she got it. with a smile, your mom answered her sister’s call. “yes, older sister, is there a reason you’re interrupting my day?” your mom asked playfully.

her grin quickly vanished and through the phone you could hear your aunt say, “it’s mom… the doctors say she isn’t getting better…”

your mom turned you with a worried expression. you had stirred the contents of the pot on the stove before turning fully to your mom, brows furrowed. fear sank deep into your chest at the thought of your grandma not getting better. surely there was something else the doctors could do, right?

stepping up beside your mom at the kitchen island, you listened in to what your aunt was saying. “they’re trying everything they can. some things work—and she starts getting better—but some things don’t,” you could hear your aunt's voice start to wobble.

your aunt then quickly changed the subject away from your grandma’s depleting health, “why don’t you and y/n come down here for the summer? see grandma, jungwon, and i? it’s been so long since i’ve seen you both!”

you thought about the last time you saw your aunt and cousin. it was at your dad’s funeral—where you and your aunt had desperately tried to keep your mom together. it would be nice if you made a new, happier memory with them.

“oh…” your mom spoke, looking over to your place next to her. you could tell she was trying hard not to break in front of you. “we’ll be there.”

you and your mom were in your aunt’s car now after she had picked the two of you up from the airport. your head was resting against the glass as you peered out to the coastal scenery. you’ve never been to your mom’s hometown before. you had asked her once—sometime after your father’s death—and the sadness in her eyes made you regret asking. it was where your parents met. your father was visiting and the rest is history.

[ YOU HAD ME AT “HELLO” — 1ST MONTH ] ✈︎ ninety-two days until you return home.

your aunt pulled up to her and your mom’s childhood home where you could see your cousin, jungwon, waiting for you all on the porch. jungwon jogged up to the car just as you were exiting it, “y/nie! it’s been so long since i last saw you. did your head get bigger?”

“shut up!” you said, playfully pushing your cousin away from you. you put a finger to your chin in thought, “hmm, did you get shorter? i swear you were taller the last time i saw you.”

jungwon put a hand to his chest in mock hurt as he playfully rolled his eyes with a grin. he helped you and your mom get your luggage out from the car and drag it all inside.

you were staying in your mom’s childhood bedroom for the summer. although most of her decorations from her teen years had been taken down, you could still see the remnants of your mom in the room. you piled up your suitcases near the closet and dresser, turning to jungwon with a huff as you tried to catch your breath.

“we should head down to the beach after you’re done settling in! you said you’ve never been in the ocean, right?” jungwon asked you. you nodded in reply. you were excited to swim in the ocean and check out what the boardwalk had to offer.

“we should, that sounds fun!” you exclaimed. he then left and you started the lengthy process of turning the bedroom into your own for the summer. it didn’t help that you also overpacked. you couldn’t really tell what to bring and what not to bring to a small seaside town, so you kind of brought everything.

once you finished unpacking and taking a quick visit to your grandma’s room to greet her, you met jungwon in the living room. he was sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. once he heard your approaching footsteps he looked up. “ready to go?” he asked you.

“ready to go,” you repeated with a nod. you had dressed in your bathing suit and cover before leaving your room and you saw that jungwon had done the same. he was clad in swim trunks with a black shirt. nerves bubbled in you about swimming in the ocean for the first time but you tried to not let anxious thoughts overwhelm you.

you and jungwon were making the short walk down to the ocean, which your aunt thankfully didn’t live too far from, when you caught sight of the boardwalk and marveled at all the shops and people around. you and jungwon laid your towels down in the sand and made your way straight to the bright blue water. squealing as jungwon flicked the cold water at you, you pushed your hands forward to splash him back. you then dunked completely under the water to try and get used to the coldness faster.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you surfaced, teeth chattering and body shivering, “i wasn’t expecting the water to be this cold!” you guessed that it was quite nice with the harsh heat of the summer sun beating down on you. jungwon’s laugh filled your ears as he splashed water at you again.

you weren’t the best of swimmers, that fact being very obvious to jungwon once he saw you doggy paddling in the water. you mostly stuck close to the shore, not wanting your feet to not be able to touch the ground. slowly, jungwon got you further and further out to try and help you swim better. it wasn’t working that well.

“i swear if i end up drowning out here because you’re a shitty swim teacher, i��m coming back to haunt you so bad!” you shouted to jungwon as you dipped under the water with the small oncoming wave. jungwon laughed hard, “don’t be mad at me because you’re a shitty swim student! besides, there’s like three lifeguards on the beach right now.”

jungwon motioned back to the shore at the three lifeguards. you turned to look, their small figures elevated from the rest of the crowd. one of them blew their whistle at some kid trying to drown another kid. distantly, you heard him yell, “stop trying to drown her before i kick you off the beach!”

you turned back to jungwon, “they seem preoccupied.”

jungwon shook his head with a smile. “well i’m kind of hungry… i’m gonna go get something to eat. you coming with or staying in the water?” jungwon asked you. you thought it over for a moment. you weren’t particularly hungry. “i’ll stay in the water. you know, hone my swimming skills while you’re gone,” you replied.

“don’t drown!” jungwon said as he began making his way to the shore. you scoffed playfully at him. once you were alone in the water, you started trying to actually swim a little. you decided that you wanted to test yourself to see what you learned by going further out in the ocean.

you were swimming, pretending to be a mermaid and going absolutely nowhere when all of a sudden a bigger wave than normal came rushing towards you. you noticed it a second too late and it crashed into you, causing you to submerge in the water.

just as you surfaced, gasping for air, another wave hit you and submerged you again. you hands grasped at air and your lungs burned as your ears rang. you didn’t know how long you spent being pummeled by the water until you felt arms wrap around you.

you were flipped onto your back as they pulled you to the surface. sputtering and gasping, you were finally able to inhale properly and bring oxygen back to your lungs. you tried to move but your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and you couldn’t help closing your eyes from the bright sun.

your back hit a hard surface and you cracked your eyes open to see that you were on a surfboard. “i got you, don’t worry,” a male voice, who you were assuming was one of the lifeguards, said above you. you started to cough violently as you held on for dear life to the surfboard. “thank you,” you managed to whisper hoarsely.

“no worries!” he responded breezily. you could feel him paddle you back to shore. you focused on taking deep breaths and trying to still your racing heart. you could’ve died back there all because you got cocky. if the lifeguard didn’t rescue you when he did you would’ve drowned.

once you both got back to the shore the lifeguard gave you a once over to ensure everything was all right. he pushed the blonde hair off his forehead as he spoke to you, “are you okay?”

you nodded weakly and said a bit flusteredly, “i think so, yes. thank you again, truly!” he flashed a bright smile at you and you couldn’t help but notice how cute he was. it almost made you want to jump back into the water and purposefully sink to the bottom so he would come and save you again.

“maybe you should stay out of the water for a while,” he said with a smile, “especially if you’re alone.” just at that moment you heard your name being shouted, the sound getting closer and closer to you. it was your cousin and you could hear the worry in his voice.

“oh my god, y/n!” jungwon exclaimed as he bent down towards you in the sand. he kept repeating what he said a couple times as he inspected you. you had to push his hands away and tell him that you were fine thanks to the lifeguard.

“i told you not to drown!” he suddenly shouted. if the people around you weren’t already staring at you, they were now. heat rose to your face from all of the sudden attention and embarrassment filled you. before you could speak the lifeguard chimed in, “technically she didn’t!”

you raised your brows as you smiled at how annoyed jungwon looked from his comment. “exactly, i got saved!” you added. jungwon waved a hand at you as you got to your feet with the aid of the lifeguard. jungwon then grumbled to himself, “i knew i should’ve made you come with me. and just my luck too, i left my food back at the table!”

turning swiftly to you, jungwon took your arm, “alright, beach time is over, we're going home. you get to explain to our moms how you managed to almost drown.” he pushed you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. jungwon then turned to the lifeguard and said, “oh! thank you for saving her!”

the two of you were almost out of the boardwalk when jungwon asked you why you kept looking behind you. you quickly turned to face forward with heated cheeks. you had been staring back at the attractive lifeguard, not realizing how obvious you were being about it. “that lifeguard was cute,” you said meekly.

jungwon looked behind him to look, “oh, jake? you really don’t want to get involved with him, y/n… he’s kind of a player.” you began to laugh off his statement when you turned to look at jake again and saw how he was surrounded by a group of girls in colorful bikinis.

jake had a smirk on his face as he wrapped his arm around a girl with dark hair while talking to another. your heart sunk a little in your chest. of course you weren’t the most special girl in the world, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel a little disappointed. you had to be realistic with yourself, someone like jake wasn’t going to fall for an average, everyday girl like you.

“oh…” was all you could say in reply as you turned back to the path you were taking home. you tried to think of the bright side of things—at least you wouldn’t end the summer with a failed relationship and a broken heart.

it had been almost a week since you arrived and besides the small beach trip you and jungwon took when you first got here, you haven’t left the house much. you were pretty sure that you were driving your mom and aunt crazy, especially when your mom brought up the idea of you getting a summer job. “it’s easy cash!” your mom explained, setting her open book down on her lap.

you aunt chimed in, “yeah! i heard mrs. song needed some more employees, why don’t you go down to the juice bar and apply?” you supposed that earning a little bit of cash while you were here wasn’t that bad of an idea, so you did exactly what your aunt suggested.

mrs. song didn’t even spare one glance at you and all she asked was, “can you make a smoothie?” you told her that you could—and very well if you do say so yourself—and she responded with, “great, you’re hired! you start monday at nine.”

you hadn’t realized that it would be that easy. she didn’t even interview you, but you put it to the back of your mind. you weren’t the one to pass up easy money. you had thought that it would at least take maybe an hour to go through the whole process, so now you were out and about with nothing to do. you decided to explore the town a little by yourself, since you still were unfamiliar with the whole place.

as your feet moved mindlessly, you looked around. it was a beautiful day out today, just cool enough for the summer sun not to boil you. you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that you were climbing over some rocks to a secluded part of the beach until you almost slipped and fell.

there was a cove where a small amount of the water flowed in to an open cave-like entrance. being the curious person you were, you decided to follow it. you peeked into the cave, there was a huge opening at the top of it that let in a lot of sunlight. cautiously, with your flip flops in your hand, you made your way into the cave. you guess it wasn't really a cave at all, more of an open rock structure.

you were in the middle of the cave, the opening at the ceiling shining sunlight onto you, when you heard behind you, “oh!” jumping in shock, you turned to where the voice came from.

it was the cute lifeguard who saved you earlier this week—jake. he wore his shock completely on his face as he was frozen mid stride. there was a towel balled up in his arms along with what looked like some fishing equipment. heat quickly spread through your face as you struggled to make eye contact with him. “wasn’t expecting anyone to be here…” he murmured to himself, shaking the blonde hair out of his eyes slightly. you noticed he had an accent.

“oh! i’ll go!” you quickly said, already making your way back to the entrance. jake held up his hands to stop you and in the process his towel fell to the sand below the both of you. “no, no, no, that’s okay! you can stay if you want. uh… hello!” he replied with a smile.

you froze right in front of him like a deer in headlights, but managed to nod. he nodded back to you, smile widening, before making his way further into the cave. he sat his stuff down a couple feet from the small pool of water that formed from the ocean. you stood in the same spot by the entrance and watched him.

“nice meeting you again! what was your name? are you new here? i feel like you are. i haven’t seen you around before,” jake asked you, looking up from where he fiddled with his fishing hook. you took small steps towards him and nodded. “uh, yeah! my name’s y/n—i’m just here for the summer actually! thanks again for, you know, saving my life,” you said awkwardly.

jake chuckled, “seriously! no worries, y/n! so… how’d you find this place? i mean, nobody really knows about it but me.” he put his hook down and stood from his spot, giving you his full attention.

“i was just wandering around really…” you trailed, scratching the back of your neck, “i’ve been trying to explore the area since everything is so new to me.” jake’s eyebrows raised and he nodded at your words.

“you know what, you should let me show you around town since you’re new here!” jake exclaimed like it meant absolutely nothing. your eyebrows shot up at his offer. he wanted to show you around? just the two of you?

you shook your head a little and waved a hand in the air at him, “oh, you don’t have to bother! i can find my way around by my—“

jake cut you off and playfully said, “come on, i insist! i can’t just let you wander around blind! besides, this town may be small, but it does have its secrets. and lucky for you, i just so happen to know all of them!” he motioned around the cave that the two of you were in. “for example: this place,” he added.

call it genuine curiosity or the fact that you found him so attractive and charming that you couldn’t say no, you agreed. “if you insist!” you laughed sheepishly and jake smiled from ear to ear. the warning of him being a player got completely pushed out of your mind and all you could think about was the opportunity of getting close to him. everything seemed so perfect for it.

jake walked up to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “good, good! i was gonna go fishing, but this is way more fun. from here on out, this place will be known as our spot!” jake held a hand out as he turned the two of you in a circle. you giggled and glanced over at him, “our spot, got it!”

for the rest of the day, you and jake spent time getting to know each other as he showed you around town. he was a lot different than you thought he would be. for one, you expected him to be a lot more standoffish, but he was really friendly instead.

the two of you were sitting at one of the tables outside of a food stand after getting food when you asked jake what he liked to do for fun—besides the fishing he was going to do earlier. “well, i like long walks on the beach and—“ he joked before you cut him off with a nudge to his shoulder.

“be serious!” you exclaimed as he started laughing, which made you laugh too. jake raised his shoulders and exclaimed, “what! i do like long walks on the beach, they’re calming!”

after the two of you settled down a little, jake suddenly asked, “do you have a bucket list?” you thought for a moment. you’ve heard of the whole concept of bucket lists, but you always thought them too unrealistic to actually go through with it. it was more of those things that you thought would be nice to do, but knew you were never going to be able to do it.

“no, i don’t,” you replied.

jake’s eyes widened at you from across the table. the setting sun casted him in a hazy glow and made his blonde hair almost appear pinkish. “you don’t have a bucket list? no, we need to fix this. we’re coming up with a bucket list together—what’s something you always wanted to do?” he asked rapidly.

“i’ll have to think this through first!” you quickly spoke, holding your hands out in front of you to slow him down, “it has to be realistic if we’re gonna do this together, i’m only here for three months! and i want to be able to have memories of it—physical memories!”

“okay, okay, i’ll give you until tomorrow to come up with some ideas!” jake laughed, “but what do you mean physical memories?” he leaned forward onto the table and rested his head in his hand as he waited for your answer.

humming in thought, you replied, “like one of those cheap disposable cameras! we can take a bunch of pictures of us going through the bucket list and at the end of summer when i’m gone we can get them developed! that way we stay in the moment.” jake’s eyes lit up and he practically dragged you out of your seat and down the boardwalk.

“i know just the place!” he said and led you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. after walking a short distance, jake pulled you into a place that selled various types of cameras. you had gotten there just in time, since the store was just about to close for the night.

the two of you had run around the store looking for the disposable cameras you were talking about, having absolutely no luck, until you heard jake call out your name. when you made your way over to him he held two in his hands out for you to see. “one for you and one for me!” he grinned.

you made your way over to the register and jake paid for them—which you complained about but he ignored you anyways. once you got outside you both ripped the packages open. you heard jake turning the dial and looked up. he had the camera up to his face and took a picture of you just as you looked up.

blinking rapidly, a shy smile took over your face. “what was that for?” you asked. jake grinned from behind the camera and lowered it to look fully at you.

“i want my first memory to be of you,” jake said simply. your eyes widened and your heart did backflips in your chest. heat spread to your cheeks and you looked away at the intensity of his stare.

“really?” you asked quietly. you heard jake’s laugh and his finger was under your chin. he turned your head so you were looking at him. the two of you were so close you could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. jake nodded at you.

with a smile he added, “you’re so cute.” he held his camera up and aimed it at the both of you so that you were in frame. still shocked from what just happened, you idly looked up the camera with a dazed smile and jake snapped another picture.

to break the sudden tension, you turned to him with a flustered smile. “i want one of us too!” you said cheerfully. you held your camera up and jake wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close until you were completely up against him. your face felt on fire as you snapped the picture.

you looked over to jake—who still had his arm wrapped around you waist—and quickly came up with an excuse to escape the tension. “i should probably start heading home,” you muttered as jake stared back at you, “it’s getting late.”

jake slowly removed his arm—not far, as it now rested on your hip as you turned to face him. “i’ll walk you,” he replied.

the walk back to your aunt’s was shorter than you expected and it made you wish that you purposefully took a couple wrong turns so that you could stay with jake longer. you were beginning to really enjoy his company and wanted to get to know him more. you took a step towards the porch before turning to jake. “this is me…” you trailed.

he had given you his number on the walk over so you could talk more about the summer plans you had come up with. “it was nice getting to know you today,” jake spoke softly, a smile slipping onto his lips. you nodded and agreed with him.

“thank you for making my summer more interesting! if it weren’t for your bucket list idea i probably would just stay in the house the whole summer whenever i’m not working at the juice bar…” you chuckled. jake joined in with you and said that it was no problem.

for a second, you thought that he was going to kiss you, like how this scene played out before in so many movies. an awkward smile overcame your face and you took another step towards the door. “i’ll see you later?” you asked, taking more steps towards the door.

“absolutely! after your shift tomorrow—you did say you worked tomorrow, right?” jake asked and you nodded in reply. he then said, “i’ll see you tomorrow then!”

when you finally got into the house you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. you took your shoes and jacket off by the door just as your mom came down the stairs. “you were gone all day! where have you been?” she asked curiously and made her way to the kitchen.

following her, you responded, “just out exploring the town… i made a new friend!” she hummed and turned to raise her eyebrows at the last part. “new friend? that’s good, honey! maybe you won’t be inside all summer,” she teased.

the two of you laughed and you made your way upstairs to get ready for bed. you placed the disposable camera on your dresser, a small smile coming to your lips as you thought about the day you just had. slipping into bed, you tried to not let the excitement for tomorrow not let you sleep and closed your eyes.

jake: meet me at our spot? jake: after your shift, of course.

your shift had just ended when jake had texted you. the two of you texted all night about potential bucket list ideas for the summer but neither of you had decided on anything concrete.

you: i’ll see you there!

when you got to you and jake’s “spot”, he was waiting there for you, two drinks in hand while sitting in the sand. the sunlight from up above perfectly lit him up and made his blonde hair glow. he extended one of the drinks out to you—the same drink you had gotten last night on your little adventure together—as he rose to his feet.

you thanked him with a warm smile and the two of you had begun going over different ideas for your bucket list. “remember though, i’m only here for three months! it can’t be anything crazy like going skydiving or anything,” you told jake as you sat side by side in the sand near the entrance of the cave.

jake nodded and pretended to cross something off midair. “got it—no skydiving,” he said with a playful pout. you giggled at him while nudging him with your shoulder as you rolled your eyes.

“what about… surfing?” you asked, turning to jake. “i’ve never been surfing before, but that’s mainly because i can’t swim… maybe that isn’t a good idea actually.” you let out a nervous laugh as you recalled the way you and jake met and your cheeks heated from the embarrassment.

“lucky for you,” jake said while standing to his feet and putting his hands on his hips, “you have the number one lifeguard here to teach you and look out for you!” jake started flexing in various poses, making you laugh as you looked up at him.

“seriously, though. i can teach you! nothing will happen to you on my watch,” jake exclaimed as he sat back down. you shrugged, he was your best option considering that he’s literally a lifeguard. if something went south, at least you knew you’d survive with him by your side. nodding, you agreed, “okay, deal!”

you and jake spent the rest of the time at your spot debating on various things you both wanted to do for your bucket list. other than him teaching you how to surf, the both of you also came up with stargazing, going to the summer splash charity event, and doing something adventurous—like skinny dipping.

the summer splash charity event is a party that raises money to provide resources for the sheltered animals in town. according to jake, it happens every year and everyone goes to it. it’s a formal event that everyone dresses to the nines for. you made a mental note to ask your mom about it to see if she had a dress you could borrow.

“skinny dipping?!” you whipped around to where jake was sitting, feet in the water as he mindlessly dipped his finger into it. he looked back to where you were standing, “what? you said you wanted to do something adventurous and that’s the first thing i thought of!”

you wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly self conscious, as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. noticing the change in your body language, jake stood as came up to you slowly. “we can do it at night when the beach is completely empty—or not at all if you’re not comfortable. it’s completely up to you,” jake said softly.

you looked down to your feet as you thought about it. you did tell him that you wanted to do something adventurous this summer, break out of your shell. there’s nothing more adventurous and nothing that screams “breaking out of your shell” quite like skinny dipping does. you inhaled deeply, “no… let’s do it—only at night though and only when the beach is completely empty.”

jake’s eyebrows raised but you couldn’t miss the slight smirk that was making its way onto his lips. “are you sure?” he asked seriously.

you hit jake in the arm. “don’t pretend like you aren’t excited to see a naked girl!” you joked, trying to lift the tension. the smirk on his face shifted to a grin and he broke out into a laugh. jake held his hands up in the air and turned away from you. “i can’t say that i’m not,” he replied.

the first month of your stay was almost coming to an end and it seemed as if you and jake were attached at the hip. for the entire month, jake had shown you the ins and outs of the small seaside town until you knew it like the back of your hand. your disposable cameras had filled up and you had to buy another one from all the pictures you’ve taken.

a smile came to your face and heat spread across your cheeks as you thought about one of the special pictures you’ve taken just yesterday. you and jake were out on the town again, him showing you this skate park that nobody really uses anymore. the two of you sat on the edge of the ramp and you listened as jake pointed out various graffitied names and told you about the people behind them.

it was nighttime, and you knew you should start heading home before it got too late out, but—like always—you didn’t want your time with jake to end. the moment grew quiet and your eyes traveled over all the different names and made up different stories for them. you felt a pair of eyes on you and looked over to where jake was staring intently at you.

“i’m glad i got to meet you,” he said softly, leaning closer to you. you looked away briefly, a flustered smile lighting up your features and face heating. you couldn’t imagine a different timeline where you didn’t meet jake.

“i’m glad i got to meet you, too,” you replied shyly. jake smiled and reached his hand up to cup your cheek. for another moment, which seemed everlasting, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes. when his lips pressed to yours, everything felt as if it fell into place. it felt as if this was the moment when everything clicked—when you knew what you’d finally been looking for.

you were filled with passion that threatened to break out. you pulled jake closer and the thought of needing to breathe didn’t even cross your mind. that was, until your lungs screamed for air and you and jake finally pulled away from each other.

a smile broke out onto your face and it did on jake’s as well. he chuckled slightly and held your hands in his. then his eyes lit up suddenly and he was pushing himself off the ground and jogging over to where your bags were.

“what are you doing?” you giggled, turning fully to where he stood. he dug in both of your bags and pulled out the cameras. jake then jogged back over to you, dropping back down to the ground next to you, and handed you your camera.

“you said you wanted physical memories, right?” jake held up his camera so that the two of you were in frame with all the graffitied names in the back. “say cheese!” he smiled and you laughed—which he caught with the flash of the camera.

“now you,” jake added, urging you to hold up your camera. you laughed again and held up your camera, head tilted against jake’s, as you snapped a picture. you turned to jake and he smiled at you. he then pressed a kiss to your cheek and laughed at how flustered you got from it, which he also managed to catch on camera.

when you did finally get home, drunk on the thought of the kiss you and jake shared, jungwon was waiting for you. he sat on the couch, some random show he wasn’t watching playing on the tv. when you stepped through the door, he turned towards you.

“you and jake have been spending a lot of time together…” jungwon trailed, eyebrows knitting together. the smile on your face vanished and you quickly took off your shoes.

“yeah…” you mumbled in reply, “what about it? we’re friends.” you didn’t mean for your words to come out so harsh, but you couldn’t help it. you were getting two different ideas of jake and you believed the one that came straight from the source more rather than the one that was passed around.

jungwon’s eyebrows raised slightly, “i just want you to be careful and to not get hurt. i told you, he’s a player, and i don’t want you to get caught up—“

“i’m a big girl, jungwon. i can handle myself,” you cut him off abruptly. anger pulsated through you. why does he keep telling you this? “jake isn’t like that—not anymore.”

before jungwon could speak again, you stormed off to your room. you refused to let his words ruin your night, not after you and jake had finally kissed. you tried to focus your mind on the kiss, the way his soft lips felt against yours and the tickle of his blonde hair—dark brown roots barely grown out—against your skin.

inhaling deeply, you got ready for bed. under the security of the covers, you opened up your phone to send a message to jake. a smile made its way across your face and it took everything in you not to squeal as you put your phone on your nightstand.

you: i had a really great time tonight! sweet dreams! jake: me too! sweet dreams, pretty.

you mentally slapped yourself to stop thinking about his text. “pretty,” he called you pretty. you giggled to yourself and turned over in your bed, shutting your eyes.

[ YOU KNOW I’LL “SEE YOU LATER” — 2ND MONTH ] ✈︎ sixty-two days until you return home.

it’s been almost a week since the kiss you and jake shared. the two of you had fallen naturally into things a couple do—go on what seem like dates, kiss and such. you were so sure that jake was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, yet he’s made nothing official.

you thought that maybe you were imagining the whole thing, that the two of you haven’t kissed at all and nothing has changed between the two of you, but that was until he kissed you again. and again. the only thing he asked you is if you wanted to go to a beach party one of his friends is having this weekend—which you agreed to.

you sat slumped against the counter of the juice bar. today was a slow day and you began regretting working there at all with how much your feet hurt. “i don’t know, what do you think? am i overthinking things? i just feel like he should’ve asked me by now…” you looked to your side to where your coworker, hana, leaned near the smoothie machine.

you met hana on your third day of working at the juice bar and the two of you became fast friends. you didn’t have a lot of shifts together, but when you did she told you all the gossip on some of the people around town who you’ve never met and probably never will. in return, you mainly shared your anxious thoughts revolving jake, which she didn’t seem to mind hearing.

“are you sure he’s not playing you?” hana asked, somewhat hesitantly. you sighed and looked away, focusing your attention on the ocean waves ahead. you hated how many times people asked you that question.

“there’s nothing to play if i’m not even his girlfriend,” you stated. to which hana responded with a “…not quite.”

“i know this is a sore subject for you so i’ll keep it brief, but what if he is?” she pushed off the counter and made her way over to you, slumping next to you as she looked at you. she rested her head in her hand, “i don’t really know this jake, but i have heard of him. and i’ve heard that he cheated on his last girlfriend. now that could just be a rumor, but he doesn’t exactly have the cleanest track record. the guy has hooked up with every girl he could lay his eyes on—what if he’s just trying to get into your pants?”

you groaned and buried your face in your arms. this really didn’t help with your overthinking. what if jake was just trying to get into your pants? what if this all was some elaborate scheme to get close to the new girl so he could sleep with you? what if he wasn’t the person he was making himself out to be?

“what if he is?” you asked, voice muffled. you already knew the answer, hana didn’t even need to say it. and she didn’t. hana rubbed comforting circles onto your back instead.

“my shift is about to end… i really hope that what i said isn’t true y/n, but for your own sake… i would be careful around him.” you got up from the counter, nodding at hana and her departure, and sighed again. from your pocket you felt your phone buzz and looking at it, you laughed wryly. the universe really does have a way with things…

jake: hang out with me after your shift? jake: we can get a move on with our bucket list and i can teach you how to surf!

you wanted to bang your head off the counter at how your heart fluttered from him messaging you. you wanted to heed everyone’s constant warnings, but a part of you wanted to push them out of your head. a part of you wanted to cast caution to the wind and take the leap of faith. jake couldn’t be playing you, he couldn’t. that just didn’t seem like him. a part of you wanted to keep moving forward with your relationship, close your eyes to the fact that you could very well be walking down the path of getting hurt.

at this point, you were in too deep. if you got hurt, then you got hurt. at least then you’d know it was real—at least for you. caution be damned. you inhaled sharply as your fingers typed out your response:

you: of course! meet me at the beach after i grab my swimsuit? jake: i’ll see you later!

after your shift ended—and you ran back home to grab your swimsuit—you met jake at the beach like you both agreed. he was already clad in swim trunks, the lack of shirt shocking you for a quick second, and leaning against the surfboard he had next to him. “you ready?” jake asked as you walked up to him, a smile gracing his lips as he pushed off his surfboard.

you nodded, eager to get into the water and cool down your heated cheeks. the two of you made your way into the water together after he grabbed another surfboard for himself, passing the one he was carrying to you.

jake had begun teaching you how to actually even get on the board, firstly getting onto your stomach and then eventually standing. when you finally cheered at the fact that you were able to stand and not embarrassingly slide off into the water, he then taught you how to actually ride a wave.

“steady… and then up!” jake guided next to you as the two of you caught a small wave. when you surfed back to the shore you jumped to your feet and cheered, wrapping your arms around his bare torso.

“i did it! i did it!” you cheered, twirling you and jake as he laughed. you pulled away from him, smile still as big as the sun. jake pulled you into a brief kiss, pulling away with a proud smile. “you did it!” jake cheered back.

with your flustered gaze, you turned back to the oncoming waves with newfound courage, but instead noticed something else. in the distance, you could see someone flailing in the water. their head went under with the oncoming waves. in wordless shock all you could do was point towards the water while hitting jake’s arm until the words finally spilled from your mouth, “someone’s drowning!”

jake turned towards the direction you pointed in just as the person in the water gasped for air and went back under. his eyes widened and he briefly looked around at the lifeguards present on the beach. when he saw that none of them were paying attention, he picked up his surfboard from the sand and took off towards the water.

you stood back on the shore, worry eating at you as jake pulled the person onto the surfboard and swam them back to shore. it reminded you of how he saved you on your first day here. when he reached shore you helped him get the unconscious person onto the sand as one of the lifeguards ran towards your direction.

your eyes widened in horror as you realized it was your friend, hana. jake alternated doing mouth to mouth and chest compressions on her until her eyes sprang open and she coughed up water. “oh my god, hana! are you okay?” you bent down to ask with furrowed brows, cradling her cheek with your hand.

weakly, she nodded and smiled at you. hana turned her attention to jake, her smile widened as she let out a hoarse “thank you, you saved my life!” jake gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, his eyes finding yours. the two of you backed up as the lifeguard on duty took over.

“that’s one of my good friends from work!” you exclaimed as you looked back at the scene, brows knitted together. “i really hope she’s okay… almost drowning is really scary.”

jake’s hand found yours and he pulled you back to where your towels were. his face was weirdly blank and there was what almost seemed to be a scowl on his lips. you put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him, “hey… you alright?”

jake just nodded, giving you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “that was just kinda hectic… why don’t we go do something else instead of surfing again?” he asked you. you nodded, an empathetic smile forming on your lips.

the weekend had arrived and the beach party that seemed to be the talk of the town was tonight. instead of being excited for your first ever beach party, you were nervously shifting your phone in your hands. since the whole beach incident, it’s been almost radio silence from jake. when he was answering your texts, they were only one word replies or dry texts.

you didn’t understand what had gone wrong. at first you thought he needed space. saving someone’s life was no easy feat and definitely had to take a toll on him, but you wanted to be there for him any way that you could.

when you saw him one day while working, he acted like he didn’t even hear you calling him—choosing to instead hurry off with one of his friends. your heart dropped and hana rubbed more comforting circles into your back as you tried not to cry. “he really seems like he’s playing you, y/n…” hana had trailed off hesitantly, knowing how much of a sensitive issue this was for you. “maybe you should just end things officially with him.”

what if jake was playing you?

you did the finishing touches on your outfit for the party and took another look at yourself in the mirror, a small smile forming on your lips. it was just your bathing suit and a simple cover up, but you looked good, if you did say so yourself. you grabbed your phone again, hoping to hear from jake but knew that you wouldn’t. sighing, you threw your phone onto your bed.

you debated even going to the stupid party—in fact, you were already an hour and a half late for it. what was the point if the person who invited you wasn’t even talking to you? but you thought fuck that. you were going to go out and enjoy your summer at a party you were going to have fun at, with or without jake.

after doing another once over in the mirror, you grabbed your things and made your way downstairs for the walk down to the beach. if jake was going to ignore you, you were going to ignore him right back. tonight, you were only going to care about you, not him. two can play at this petty game.

you could hear the music playing from the party, which only got louder and louder the nearer you got to it. there were bodies everywhere, including those in the water. everyone was clad in their bathing suits, either chatting with others or pulling each other into the water. you made your way over to where a bar was set up and grabbed yourself a drink.

you didn’t want to get too drunk tonight, since you were alone, but you wanted something in your system. nursing the drink, you wandered around to find something to do. it dawned on you how little people you knew here. you didn’t really expand your friendships much besides jake and hana.

the cool night breeze made you shiver slightly, so you decided to make your way over to where there was a campfire set up. there were plenty of people around it and maybe you could meet some new friends. that’s when your heart dropped.

just a few feet ahead of you was jake and his friends, no doubt drunk out of their minds. you wondered how you didn’t hear their loud bantering over the music, but you guess that it all sort of blended in. jake sat on a beach chair, some random girl in his lap with his hand resting on her ass. it wasn’t any girl you recognized.

what the fuck, you thought, anger bubbling up inside you. i knew it, i should’ve knew he was playing me like the fucking fool i am. just at that moment you and jake made eye contact, the smile on his face faltering as he took in your look of pure devastation. you should’ve just stayed home.

turning on your feet, your eyes scanned for somewhere you could run to, but seeing nowhere good enough they landed on the water ahead. it’ll have to do.

you stripped off your bathing suit cover and speed walked with fevered passion out towards the water, hoping that the darkness will cover up your tracks. you didn’t even care that the water was freezing cold, you couldn’t feel it with how the anger was heating up your skin. instead, you dipped your head underwater for a couple seconds, complete silence and darkness calming you briefly, before surfacing again. luckily, jake didn’t follow you out—if you could even consider that luck.

as soon as you surfaced, you were face to face with a stranger you didn’t know. you let out a shocked gasp and moved backwards. “sorry,” the stranger awkwardly chuckled, giving you some space. “i saw you storm in the water—it’s not safe to be out here in the dark swimming in the ocean alone.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him, “what’s it to you?” you really didn’t need more people making this moment difficult for you.

his face lit up like he forgot to mention a very crucial piece of information. “oh! uh—i’m a lifeguard.” he held out his hand to you, the moonlight illuminating it. what was up with you and lifeguards? you hesitantly took it and gave him a wary smile. “i’m jay. you’re jake’s girl, right?”

your smile immediately dropped. you weren’t “jake’s girl,” and it was clear that you never was. all you were to him was some pawn in a game you didn’t even really know you were playing. “not jake’s girl,” you responded.

you looked back to the campfire, seeing that jake and some of his friends were nowhere to be found. you turned back to jay, “and i guess you’re right. i can't swim that well anyways.” a sheepish smile made it’s way onto your face.

“maybe i should get you back to shore then…” jay laughed, “get you warmed up by the campfire? it’s pretty chilly out here and i wouldn’t want you to get sick.” you nodded and the two of you swam back to the shore together. as soon as you stepped out, your teeth chattered and your body shook like a leaf. all the heat from the anger dissipated and now you were just cold.

you and jay sat side by side on a log, the flames from the fire drying you off and warming your bodies. after a couple moments, jay turned to you and said, “you don’t seem to be one who falls for a player’s antics like jake’s.”

caught completely by surprise, you cleared your throat slightly as you thought of something to say. you weren’t one to fall for a player, especially after being warned so much about him. it was unlike you. but there was just something about jake that kept luring you in, like a lamb to the slaughter. “i guess i was too caught up in being in a new town that i put caution aside…” you trailed, staring down at your hands.

jay hummed, “ah, new girl. i see.” you looked over to him and nodded, trying to lighten the mood with a small laugh. “you live and you learn,” jay added, almost solemnly. it made you wonder what he had to go through to give you such advice. you didn’t have the chance to ask before you saw jake barreling his way over towards you, stumbling over his own feet.

he stood across the fire from you and jay, anger dripping from his face. “wow, you move on quick!” he seethed, eyes locking on yours. jake’s accent was heavy and thick, words slurred. you scoffed at him. did he think you didn’t see him with that other girl on his lap?

you shot up from your seat, “i move on quick? me? you literally had some girl on your lap after ignoring me for days, jake.” in the corner of your eyes you saw the attention the two of you were gathering. people dipping by other’s ears to whisper about the two of you. you didn’t even have to guess what they were saying. you knew that it had to be something along the lines of “jake sim strikes again! another stupid girl fell into his trap. they just don’t know how to learn.”

ignoring your words, jake instead said, “i didn’t know you were such a whore, y/n.” you face contorted to one of hurt and you took a small step back, the back of your foot knocking against the log you were just seated on.

jay jumped from the log, moving ever so slightly to step in front of you. “what the fuck, man?” jay hissed towards jake. jake didn’t even pay him any attention, his eyes never left yours.

you didn’t know how everything went so wrong. it seemed like just yesterday jake was kissing you for the first time at the abandoned skate park. now everything was so twisted and you were left standing in the center of it all. you desperately tried to not let tears well up in your eyes. jake didn’t get to go treat you this way—he didn’t get to win. you looked him dead in the eyes, “what the fuck is wrong with you, jake?”

before he could answer, his friend came up to him and slang and arm around his shoulder. you recognized him, despite jake never introducing you to any of his friends. park sunghoon, jake’s bestfriend and right-hand man—and no doubt another player. his eyes glided over your body, still somewhat wet from your dip in the ocean. his lips curled up into a smirk, “who’s this jake? victim number…” he trailed off into a laugh, eyes hooded from the alcohol. “oh wait… i lost count,” sunghoon laughed again.

the anger disappeared from jake’s face, now replaced with complete detachment as he turned to sunghoon and laughed. you literally couldn’t believe what you were seeing. was this how he treated every girl who had unfortunately fallen into his web?

“she’s cute,” sunghoon said, eye’s trailing you again. you had the urge to cover up, pulling your bathing suit cover tighter around you, suddenly feeling disgusted at the fact that they were talking about you like you weren’t even there.

“make your move, i bet she’ll let you take her right here,” jake replied, looking at you. your mouth opened in shock and you were frozen in place. jake was like a completely different person. no—this must’ve been the real him he was hiding from you to get in your pants. you were in such shock that you didn’t even see jay’s fist connecting with jake’s face until they were rolling around in the sand throwing more fists at each other.

you stood in the same spot, unmoving, as more of jake’s friends showed up and pulled them apart before anything serious could happen besides some cut lips. jake pushed his friends off of him and stormed off towards a group of girls—the one girl in particular who was in his lap earlier. he pulled her towards up and smashed his lips onto her’s, all the while making direct eye contact with you.

you looked away, scoffing to yourself as you made your way to where jay stood brushing sand off himself. “i’m so sorry, are you okay?” you asked while aiding him in brushing off sand.

in lieu of a reply, jay hissed, “he’s such a fucking asshole. how did you even get caught up in his drama?” when jay turned to you, there wasn’t any anger in his eyes—at least, not towards you. it was a genuine question, and somehow that made you feel worse about everything.

you looked back over to where jake stormed off to to see that him and his friends—and the girl he kissed—were all walking over to the ocean to swim. they left abandoned articles of clothing in their wake as they started to chase each other into the water. you sighed mellowly, “i thought he was different, not who everyone said he was… it turns out i was wrong. he’s exactly like how everyone says he is.”

you couldn’t help the stray tear that escaped your eye, quickly moving your hand to wipe it away. you felt jay’s eyes on you as you stared down at your toes in the sand. he doesn’t get to win, you thought, opening your mouth to speak as you looked up at jay.

jay beat you to it. “let’s get a drink. take your mind off of it?” he offered. you closed your mouth and nodded, walking side by side with him towards the bar.

you were well past tipsy now as you and jay spent however long talking and getting to know each other. just as the two of you were in the middle of a conversation about your favorite aquatic animal, jake walked up to you. his head was down and he looked like a kicked puppy as he stood in front of you. he was only in his swim trunks and almost completely dry, so you were guessing it’s been a while since he’s been out of the water. “y/n…” he trailed, looking up at you through slightly wet strands of blonde hair.

“the fuck do you want, jake? here to call me a whore again? just leave me alone,” you waved a hand in the air at him, taking a sip from your drink. jake tried to take your hand in his but you snatched it out of his grip. you were guessing he was sober now.

“can we please just talk?” jake asked. his eyes skimmed over to jay who was glaring at him. “privately?” jake added. you laughed at him. is he serious?

“she told you to leave her alone, dude,” jay said, tone a little harsh.

jake rolled his eyes, they landed on jay with a glare, “shut the fuck up, jay. this has nothing to do with you.” jake turned his gaze back to you, gaze softening completely. he almost looked sorry. you almost laughed again.

“please, y/n. just five minutes and you’ll never have to see me again,” jake pleaded.

next to you, jay scoffed. “you promise?” jay cooed towards jake and jake’s glare immediately came back as his eyes snapped towards him. you sighed.

“five minutes, jake. that’s all i’m giving you to explain everything,” you spoke quietly. jay looked over at you. in his eyes you saw his question, “are you sure?” you gave him a slight nod and then stood. “don’t waste my time,” you added.

you wobbled slightly as you stood and jake took your hand. again, you pulled it out of his grasp. “i can walk by myself,” you bit out. jake’s eyebrows raised in slight shock but he said nothing as he guided you to somewhere private.

he led you a little bit away from where the party was, but close enough that you still heard the music blasting from the speakers. he pulled you behind an empty stand where wandering eyes couldn’t see you. you turned to him with a deep sigh and raised brows raised as you crossed your arms. “time is ticking,” is all you said.

“she meant nothing… i promise. it's you i want, y/n,” jake started, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. you rolled your eyes at him. meant nothing? so he thinks you’re stupid.

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you countered. you turned to walk away. if he was just going to lie to you then there wasn’t any point of hearing him out. jake grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him. he cupped your cheek and guided your gaze back up to his. “i’m serious. it is you that i want. my head was everywhere and the alcohol didn’t help and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, y/n, i didn’t want to hurt you.”

in your head you cursed him for being so alluring, and then cursed yourself for drinking so much because now you were melting like puddy in his hands. you didn’t want to believe him, you really didn’t, but the more you searched his eyes, the more you saw the truth in them. jake wanted you, that much was the truth. but was he truly sorry… that was to be determined.

the anger in your eyes softened and your eyes glazed over, “why would you do that, jake? you don’t talk to me for days and then i come here and see you all up on some girl? after spending so much time with me and acting like we’re a couple?” you swear you saw jake’s heart break as he pulled you into his chest.

“i know, baby, i know i messed up and i’m sorry. let me make it up to you and show you that you’re the only one who matters to me,” jake said softly and you pulled away to look at him. he pressed his lips to yours, his hand cupping your face gently. you shivered slightly at his touch and the petname falling from his lips. a fire lit up inside you and you pressed your lips to his harder, wrapping your arms around his neck.

jake backed you up against the empty stand, lifting you so you sat onto the ledge that was lower than the actual stand. he pulled away from you slightly, enough for the both of you to catch your breath. “tell me now if you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” jake breathed.

you kissed him again, skin hot in all the places he touched you. “i want this,” you briefly broke apart to say. jake dropped to his knees between your legs. you shifted slightly as he pressed kisses onto your bare inner thighs, lifting your legs so they rested over his shoulders.

“uh—jake…” you stammered, eyes fluttering closed for a quick second. jake hummed, looking up at you with a raised brow. “i-i’m a virgin… i’ve never done any of this before…”

jake’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. he rose, thumbs trailing your thighs and kissed you. “that’s okay,” he said as he got to his knees again, “i’ll take good care of you, baby.”

you gave him a sheepish smile as you lifted your bathing suit cover to pool around your hips. you then lifted your hips so jake could take your bottoms off and scooted to the edge of the ledge you were sitting on.

once your bottoms were off, you shivered slightly from the sudden coldness. more from the way jake was now pressing kisses close to your core. it was embarrassing how you were absolutely dripping for him despite being angry at him not too long ago, but either jake didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care much. he returned your legs back to his shoulders.

jake’s mouth latched onto your clit and his tongue swirled around it. you jumped, a moan escaping your lips as your back arched slightly. his tongue continued to swirl around your clit and his lips sucked in, making your back arch more. your fingers ran through his blonde hair, grabbing at it to try and steady yourself. jake looked up at you and you could feel the smirk on his lips.

your breath was heavy and you shamelessly moaned from how good jake was making you feel. if there was one good thing that came out of all of this, it was finding out just how good jake was with his tongue. you were so high on cloud nine that you moaned a little too loud once you felt jake slowly enter a finger into you, testing the waters, pulling in and out slowly. he then slowly slid in another finger, the stretch making your head whirl.

jake laughed, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your body. you gasped when his fingers angled up, pressing right against your sweet spot, and bucked your hips forward. “feels so good,” you whimpered. “p-please don’t stop!”

you legs began to shake and the pleasure was so much that you couldn’t help but rock your hips towards jake’s mouth and fingers. jake started to to hum against your clit lightly, fingers moving faster. you gripped his hair and the edge of the ledge tigher, “just how many girls have you treated like this?” you breathed out between moans. your eyes were squeezed shut and you felt how close you were to being undone. “is this what you do to get back on their good side?” you asked.

jake pulled his mouth away from you and your eyes fluttered open to look down at him from the loss. his fingers continued to move rapidly. “you wouldn’t be the only girl,” jake commented. you didn’t even get a chance to respond as he pressed his fingers against your walls and you came undone onto his fingers. you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out, chest rising and falling harshly.

when you came down from your high, with the aid of jake and now suddenly sober, you opened your eyes just as he pulled his fingers out of you and to his mouth while rising to his feet. you glared at him harshly as he licked his fingers clean, mouth and chin wet with your arousal and blonde hair messy. looking behind you, you reached for some napkins and cleaned yourself up before putting your bathing suit bottoms back up.

you threw the rest of the napkins at his face and pushed him away from you as you jumped off the ledge. “you’re such an asshole,” you muttered angrily as you stormed back off in the direction of the party. from behind you, you could hear jake calling your name as he jogged after you.

“fuck off, jake!” you yelled, not bothering to turn around as you moved faster.

when you got back to the party, you went up to the campfire where jay was still sitting, a bottle in his hands. “thanks for talking to me tonight, but i’m gonna head home actually,” you told him, trying to give him your best fake smile but it instead coming out in a half grimace. you heard your name being called and jay stood.

“i’ll walk you home,” jay said as he placed his bottle in the sand against the log. you nodded and the two of you quickly walked off.

the walk back to your house was silent. you mainly processed the series of events that just happened. how could you be so stupid? once again, you fell into jake’s trap. when will you learn?

you didn’t even realize you made it to the front of your aunt’s house, too lost in your own thoughts to notice your feet moving on their own, until jay said, “are you going to be okay?” you looked over to him in slight shock, thinking about his question for a moment.

shrugging, you responded, “i’m not sure yet. for now i will be, i guess. thanks for walking me home, jay. i really appreciate it.” jay gave you a nod, not entirely convinced. “anytime,” he spoke and watched as you walked up to the front door and entered the house.

you ran to the bathroom, wanting to rub your skin clean until it was raw. you stayed under the water for a while until it started to run cold and stayed for a little more after that, tears being washed away from the stream. when you did finally get out, you laid in your bed unable to sleep.

you phone was being blown up by jake and you just didn’t have the energy for him right now, so you turned your phone off. you didn’t want to hear anymore of his excuses—or truths, you still couldn’t decipher which was which. you just hoped that sleep would come to you soon and you wouldn’t dream of him.

when you woke up in the morning from a dreamless sleep, the first text your eyes saw as you checked the time on your phone was from jake. you sighed softly, telling yourself you’ll check the rest of his messages later. the message your eyes scanned was:

jake: meet me at our spot? i didn’t mean what i said. it wasn’t my intention for it to come off that way. please answer, y/n. i know you wake up around this time, so please meet me there when you see this.

you weighed his message in your head, deciding to ignore it entirely or to meet with him. after pacing around your room, you decided to meet with him. this was it—you were putting an end to everything. no more games. you were only going to meet with jake for closure, to finally see if his words have been truths or lies.

you got ready for the day, thankful that you didn’t have to work at the juice bar, and mentally hyped yourself up. you couldn’t let yourself be lured in by jake’s trap again; acting like a pushover for him. you wanted answers, not to lose yourself in his warm and inviting brown eyes. not to think about how good he made you feel last night—despite the memories clouding around your racing mind making your heart do flips.

leaving the house, you made your way down to the beach with newfound confidence.

when you reached the open cave-like entrance, you saw jake sitting in the sand lost in thought waiting for you. his eyes immediately snapped to your figure when he saw you approach. jake looked like he hadn’t slept, eyes rimmed red and dark circles sinking in his eyes. his blonde hair was in every direction as if he’d been running his fingers through it constantly and his plain shirt was wrinkled.

jake slid his phone that he was clutching into his pants pocket as he stood to his feet. hesitantly, you walked up to him, stopping a few feet short of him. you left your expression purposefully blank as you quirked a brow at him.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” jake started, taking a few steps towards you. he furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“so how else did you mean it, jake? i’m tired of playing this game with you.”

jake sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “i mean—i did mean it like that,” he closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed your hands, effectively removing them from where they were sitting across your chest. jake slid his thumbs across them as he spoke.

“but not with you. i won’t lie and say that i don’t have a reputation—“

you cut him off, tone harsh as you pushed away from him. “a reputation of being a player? of stringing girls along; using their feelings for you against them to get in their pants? your reputation precedes you, jake, and i’m not going to be your next victim.”

“and you won’t be—that life, me being a player, it’s over. it’s in the past—canceled, i promise you. i meant what i said to you yesterday, baby. i want to be with you and i’m sorry for making you think that i didn’t.” jake stepped forward and cupped your face, tilting your head so you looked in his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. you exhaled softly and your eyes fluttered shut.

jake continued, “as soon as i got into that water, i immediately sobered up and knew i fucked up. i shouldn’t have spoken to you like that—shouldn’t have let my friends speak to you like that. that was really shitty. i’m so sorry.” you opened your eyes and they grazed across the cut on his lip from his fight with jay.

your arms hung limply at your sides as your mind struggled to come up with any thought whatsoever. it was silent for a moment. “you ignored me for a whole week straight. pretended that i didn’t even exist to you,” was all you managed to say.

jake sighed again and shut his eyes briefly like he was having an inner battle with himself. “my head has been everywhere this week, baby. i’m sorry. lifeguarding has been more taxing than usual and i’m really not in my right mind. the alcohol last night really didn’t help either, like i said.”

your eyes softened. it was just as you expected. “so why didn’t you tell me all of this? i could’ve helped you—been there for you!” your words were light, but your insistence made jake look up.

jake just shrugged, not knowing what to say. he settled on, “i didn’t know how to explain it all. i’m not that good at telling people how i feel—clearly.”

you rested a hand on his cheek, a small smile coming to your lips. “it’s something we can work on… why don’t we do something from our bucket list today? help get your mind off lifeguarding?” you suggested. jake’s face lit up and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

a cheeky smile played on jake’s mouth as he nodded and you rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest lightly. you pointed to the shallow water coming in from the ocean, “if you say skinny dipping i’m drowning you in the water over there!”

jake’s smile widened, a pretty laugh leaving his lips. it was a sound you could hear forever. “i wasn’t! i was gonna suggest we go stargazing.”

he pulled you closer to him and bent down towards you, breath fanning across your neck and his nose sending a shiver down your spine from the way it trailed along the skin near your ear. “but if you wanted to skinny dip i wouldn’t be opposed,” he whispered, voice dripping like honey.

you inhaled sharply at the way jake brushed his lips against your jaw ever so slightly. you didn’t even notice the way your grip tightened around his shirt at his chest. all you could think about was his lips at your core making you feel so good. better than you could ever do for yourself. the way his fingers reached deep inside you and pressed against spots that you couldn’t reach yourself no matter how hard you tried.

breath hitching, you tried to control your breathing as you let out a chuckle that you hoped sounded playfully annoyed, but instead came out as nervous as you felt. with all the strength you could muster, which was barely any at all, you pushed at his chest again and jake took a couple small steps back. that same wicked smirk from last night curled his lips upwards.

god, that smirk. if given the chance, you knew that jake sim would absolutely ruin you. you knew that he would worship every inch of your skin while completely defiling your innocence.

you subtly pressed your legs together at the thought of his hands wandering over your naked body and bit your lip at how it would feel when he finally slid into you. no, you couldn’t think such dirty things with him looking at you like he knew every thought running through your head right now.

you kept your eyes firmly on the grains of sand beneath the two of you until you were sure your thoughts were clear.

once the dignity started to come back to you, you slowly looked up at him. you plastered a playful smile on and raised your brows while crossing your arms across your chest. “you’re on timeout. so going skinny dipping—and whatever dirty little thoughts are running though your head with the idea—not happening. got it?”

you were definitely projecting with your statement, even if you both were most likely thinking the same things. jake’s wicked smirk remained on his lips, this time more playful than wicked. he raised a singular brow at you, head tilting subtly. he didn’t even need to speak for you to get the connotation.

we’ll see about that, won’t we?

you and jake spent the rest of the morning together, hanging around the beach taking various photos with your disposable camera, until you got called in to work to cover a shift. you had just finished cleaning the blenders at the juice stand when jake scared you, suddenly announcing his arrival while leaning across the counter with a shit-eating grin.

gasping loudly with a hand pressed to your heart, you took the hand towel you were holding and smacked him with it, making him laugh. you couldn’t help the smile that spread on your face at jake being here. your shift so far was boring, your friend hana wasn’t working today and nobody was really buying anything either. you desperately needed the distraction.

“what are you doing here?” you smiled, leaning across the counter in front of jake. your faces were mere inches away and jake closed the gap by pressing a kiss to your lips.

“i wanted to see you,” he replied, smile never leaving his face. that was, until jay showed up to order a drink.

“how are you, jay?” you asked as you started the process of his drink, turning slightly to look at him. he was soaking wet, no doubt just getting off one of his shifts. running a hand through his damp hair he breathed out harshly, smile not reaching his eyes as he shook his head a little.

“you know how lifeguarding is…” he trailed off. you gave him a sympathetic smile, definitely not knowing how lifeguarding is, but from your talk with jake earlier, you could only imagine.

jake shifted in his seat, turning to face jay. “yeah… i do,” he spoke. you glanced over to him as you poured jay’s drink in one of the to-go cups. jake’s mouth was pressed into a thin line and his eyes sharp. they were both deadly silent and you had the feeling they weren’t talking about lifeguarding.

slowly, you slid the drink you just made towards jay as your eyes flicked between the two of them. their staring contest was cut short by one of jake’s friend’s calling his name. reluctantly, he got up to meet them, eyes flicking to you before turning around. what was that all about?

jay’s eyes slid to you, a sigh escaping his lips. “i hope you know what you’re doing, y/n,” he said before handing you the money for his drink and standing from his seat. your brows furrowed in question but before you could ask what he meant, jay spoke again.

“there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”

jay then left, leaving you with your mouth hanging open. your mind was surprisingly blank despite his words that you were desperately trying to process. to distract yourself, you began tidying up.

jake came back up to the stand just as you finished, his friend—sunghoon, if you remember correctly from his hurtful words at the beach party—following suit. your eyebrows were raised in slight shock as you tried to keep the scowl from off your face. jake said nothing, just waved his hand towards you while looking at sunghoon in a “well…” kind of way.

sunghoon sighed while leaning on the stand towards you. “uh… listen, y/n…” he looked towards jake in question and jake gave him a small nod without taking his eyes off you. sunghoon continued, “i was a real asshole for what i said at the beach party—real shitty. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

he scratched the back of his neck and his apology hung in the air for a moment. you smiled awkwardly, eyes flicking between him and jake. clearing your throat slightly, you responded, “t-thank you? i appreciate the apology.”

it was awkward for another few moments before jake finally broke the silence. “so…” he started, dragging out the vowel as he leaned more over the counter towards you. “will you be my date to the summer splash event?”

sunghoon scoffed while turning towards jake, hitting him on the shoulder. “dude, you haven’t even asked her yet? the event is next month!” he exclaimed. a sheepish smile took over jake’s face as he leaned back into his chair. you raised your brows at him.

“yeah, jake, why haven’t you asked me yet?” you teased. sunghoon mirrored your expression and the two of you stared a hole into jake. he sunk into his seat.

“i may… have forgotten about the whole thing…” jake murmured. you and sunghoon laughed at him, sunghoon shaking his head as he turned back to you.

“yes, i’ll be your date to summer splash,” you laughed, causing jake’s smile to brighten.

the three of you talked more before they left for sunghoon’s house. before they did, jake leaned across the counter to meet where you already sat halfway. “are we okay?” he asked near your ear in a hushed tone. you nodded, a genuine smile on your face which caused one to appear on his. jake then brought you in for a kiss, which was quickly cut short by sunghoon going, “ugh, get a room!”

heat spread throughout your face and chuckles escaped jake’s mouth as he pressed another kiss to your warm cheeks. he was then pulling out his disposable camera, turning his back to you and holding it up in the air.

“group picture!” jake shouted as he pulled sunghoon towards him. sunghoon rolled his eyes, but smiled for the picture nonetheless. you gave the camera an embarrassed smile as the flash went off. jake chuckled again, bringing your lips together briefly before running off with a disgusted sunghoon.

you: meet me at our spot? jake: already here, baby. you don’t even have to ask! you: rolling my eyes right now… bring the blankets!

a couple days later, you and jake had planned to watch the stars at your shared spot since you were both too busy the day you originally planned. according to jake, it was the best spot to see as many stars as possible in the small town. jake had beaten to you the spot, already having the blankets and even pillows set up right under the opening in the ceiling.

the moon shown perfectly from the opening, illuminating jake and the area he had set up. “hi,” you smiled, setting the basket of wrapped sandwiches onto the blanket and plopping down next to jake. you looked up towards the ceiling at the stars, a soft smile taking over your features.

“hi,” jake replied. he moved closer to you until you were almost cheek and cheek to look up at the stars as well. “i told you it’s the best place to see them,” he added quietly. you looked over to him, smile still on your face, and giggled. jake’s smile widened and he brought you in for a kiss.

the two of you watched the stars for a while in silence, apart from the rustling of one of you unwrapping a sandwich. at some point, the two of you had laid down onto the blankets and pillows, you tucked into jake’s side, head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced patterns onto your arm and hip.

“the whole world outside disappears when it’s just the two of us in here,” jake softly said, causing you to look up at him. his eyes were focused on the stars until he felt the weight of your stare. he looked down, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“you’re right,” you smiled at him, continuing your watch of the stars. “we’re the only people in the world in here.” jake’s fingertips were suddenly lifting your chin to look up at him. once you did, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

smiling against his lips, you kissed him again, sitting up on your elbow to kiss him better. the kiss deepened, so much so that you got the urge to swing your leg across his to straddle him. but before it could go any farther than a kiss, jake pulled away. you both were breathing heavily as you stared into each other’s eyes, lips barely brushing.

“will you be my girlfriend?” jake breathed, searching your eyes for your answer. you giggled a little. it was funny that he even had to ask you. the answer was always going to be yes.

you nodded, smiling widely, “i thought you’d never ask…” you lips connected with his again, this time more passionate than the first. jake sat up onto his elbows, eyes fluttering closed.

“i’m sorry i took so long,” he murmured against your lips.

this time you did give into your urge. throwing your leg over both of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. jake’s arms immediately came to sit around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you were chest and chest. the kiss was feverish, desperate. it’s what you wanted to do ever since you had gotten to know each other.

fire burned in the pit of your belly and you were overwhelmed with the sudden need to have jake as close to your body as possible. you needed more than his lips on yours and his arms around your waist. you didn’t even realize you grinded down onto him until he broke away from your kiss to let out a small whimper, forehead pressed to yours.

he trailed hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck all while you grinded down against him again. you felt like you were on fire as his lips found yours again and it was the only thing you could do but pull away and take off your shirt.

jake’s eyes landed on your breasts and the lacy bra covering them, but you didn’t let them linger before you were pulling off his shirt as well, completely driven by desire. next you were shimmying off of him until the shorts you were wearing were off too, leaving you only in your bra and panties.

the rational part of your brain finally kicked in when you heard jake unbuckling his belt. you broke away from his kiss, suddenly aware of what the two of you were about to do. heat spread up your neck and across your cheeks and you whispered, “i told you, you’re on timeout.”

jake’s mouth fell open in a shocked smile, hands freezing in place. in order to cool yourself down, you pulled yourself away from him and stood to your feet. turning your back towards him, you made your way to the ocean, stripping off your bra and panties in the process until you were completely naked. you glanced back at him with a playful smile.

you stepped a foot into the water and immediately shuttered at how cold it was, but you made yourself walk the rest of the distance until you were submerged up to your shoulders. you turned towards the cove where jake still sat frozen. “are you coming?” you called, giggling to yourself at the bulge in his shorts.

“you’re such a tease,” jake called back playfully, standing to his feet. you laughed, more teeth chattering than actual laughter. when jake started pulling down his shorts, you averted your gaze, suddenly interested in the ocean horizon.

you heard the pitter-patter of jake’s footsteps and the slight splashing of water behind you as he came closer. “you put on such a show, but now you can’t even face me?” jake said in a husky voice against your ear, chest pressed against your back, causing a shiver to go directly down your spine and your heartbeat to pick up.

jake trailed a wet finger across your shoulder and you inhaled sharply, trying to gain your composure. turning to him, you replied, “if you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the game.” you threw his signature smirk back at him and he laughed, coming closer to you until your noses were brushing up against each other. you tried to ignore the brushing against your thigh, but it was growing harder the more seconds that passed. instead you cupped your hand in the water and lifted it to drip the water onto jake’s head, pulling another laugh out of him.

grabbing your chin, jake lifted your head to kiss you deeply, his tongue dancing in your mouth with yours. pulling away, jake smirked. “you’re going to eat your words once i’m finished,” he said lowly, pressing kisses to the skin beneath your ear.

jake pressed you closer to him, his body heat helping to warm you from the cold water. his lips trailed back up to your ear and he added, “get use to the feeling of your body shaking.”

if your body wasn’t on fire before, it definitely was now. jake’s lips were back on yours, this time rougher. you were sure he could feel your heartbeat racing from how close you were to him, feel the heat creep up your neck with how your bare bodies were against each other. when you pulled away to satiate your burning lungs, jake caught hold of your bottom lip between his teeth. he bit down softly, the corners of his mouth raising at your reaction before letting go.

you hid your face in his chest as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up your shoulder. you resisted the urge to shiver. “jake, i—“ you cut yourself off, too embarrassed to bring the topic up.

“has anyone ever touched you like this?”

jake’s fingers trailed down your sides, stopping just at your hips and you took a sharp inhale. you shook your head as jake continued his kisses, going from up your shoulder to the side of your mouth. “don’t worry, pretty,” he whispered huskily, lips lingering over yours before giving you a feather light kiss. “i’ll be gentle… i promise.”

he intertwined his hand with yours and guided you back to the rock structure where your abandoned late night picnic resided. you laid down onto the blanket, looking up at him with big doe eyes from where your head laid on a pillow. his eyes took in your body finally, eyes widening more at every exposed inch he could see. when they landed on your soaked pussy he smirked subtly.

jake climbed over you, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “are you sure you want this?” he asked you breathlessly. his eyes were squeezed shut and his brows were furrowed, like he was fighting the urge to not ravage you right then and there.

“yes… please. i’m ready,” you whispered.

eyes fluttering open, jake brought his lips to yours again. he then started to kiss down your body, making sure he kept eye contact with you. when you looked away, his gaze too intense, he would immediately stop and grab your chin to look back at him. “you don’t have to be nervous, baby. it’s just me.”

how could you not be nervous? the last time he was this close to your body was when he was eating you out at that beach party. and you were nervous then, too; never having someone attached to your core before. even then, you only remembered bits and pieces from the encounter—jake’s pretty mouth on your clit and the hazy sensation of his fingers inside you, stretching you out—you being too drunk to remember the full thing. this time you were completely, absolutely, sober with none of the confidence the alcohol gave you.

jake kissed right above your core, stopping with a smile against your skin. you thought he was going to speak, but he instead dove straight in, tongue flicking against your clit as his lips sucked.

you immediately moaned out, back arching off the soft fabric beneath you and head throwing back. you gripped the blanket tightly in your hands as jake wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you from moving. he continued his motions, eyes never leaving you. your hand found his wet blonde hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled at them. “please, jake!”

he hummed and you swear you saw stars, moaning loudly and trying to squirm away from his strong grip. “does that feel good?” jake asked you, breath fanning over your throbbing clit. all you could do was nod. “yeah?” jake asked, removing one of his hands from around your thighs.

his other hand rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb, sending jolts up your body, as the hand he freed teased at your entrance. you were a spluttering mess, desperate pleas for him to do something other than rub at your clit breaking the silence and clouding your thoughts. you barely even heard the chuckles that escaped jake’s lips as he kept teasing. he waited until you were practically writhing underneath his touch and begging him for more before he finally slid his fingers inside you achingly slow. you barely registered the slight pain, only the pleasure.

“you’re so pretty like this,” jake cooed.

you gasped as his fingers started to move, dragging against your gummy walls. the wetness making you dizzy and bringing tears to your eyes. jake’s pace only grew the more his fingers fucked into you, fingers curling and making your thighs tremble.

just as you moaned out a broken “g-gonna cum!” jake replaced his thumb running circles into your clit with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your poor clit. his hand went to hold your legs open when you tried to squeeze them together, the rope in your stomach about to snap.

when it did finally snap, you were gripping the blankets so hard that the clenching of your fingers started to hurt. you cried out, weakly trying to push jake’s head away with your other hand but getting nowhere. he didn’t stop, lips sucking your clit as squelching sounds emitting from your spent pussy with how your cum now dripped down his fingers still pushing in and out of your entrance.

the vibrations of jake’s laugh was like lighting throughout your body, shocking you to the core. you whimpered and jake finally pulled his lips away, satisfied with helping you ride out your high. he sat up on his knees and you looked up at him through half-closed eyes, brain foggy.

“you ready for more? baby?” jake asked before sticking his cum coated fingers in his mouth while staring down at you. he let out another hum, eyes fluttering closed briefly, “you taste so fucking good.”

you covered your face and sheepish smile with your hands and jake chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss on your lips once he was finished licking you up from his fingers. you could taste yourself on him. “are you ready?” jake asked and you nodded.

“words, pretty. i wanna hear you,” jake added, moving your hands away from your face. your body was on fire still, still reeling from your recent orgasm. jake pressed kisses to your cheeks.

“i’m ready,” you uttered meekly.

jake leaned back and now it was your turn for your eyes to trail along his body, not quite getting the chance when his head was between your thighs making you see other galaxies. his blonde hair fell in his eyes, which he dragged his fingers through to get out of his way. toned body still glistening from your dip naked in the ocean, making you want to run your fingers along the soft skin. and finally… his large hard cock hovering mere centimeters above your still throbbing pussy, precum leaking from his tip.

you didn’t know how you would fit all of him inside you, it barely looked like you could wrap your hand around him. but you were determined and you refused to back down. if you were going to have your first time with anybody, it would be jake sim.

“lift your hips for me, pretty.” your eyes snapped back to jake’s face to see he had dragged a pillow next to the both of you. you did as you were told, knees wobbling slightly, and jake slid the pillow under your hips. he pressed another kiss to your lower stomach.

jake held his leaking cock, looking up at you for confirmation one last time and you nodded. “this is gonna hurt for a second, okay? just take a deep breath.”

you inhaled deeply, waiting in anticipation and slight fear.

he lined the tip of his cock with your entrance, sliding it along your wet arousal and creamy white cum. slowly he began to push himself in and immediately you felt the stretch. you grimaced, resting your head back on the pillows. even with how wet you were with jake fingering you, and your previous release, jake was barely able to get his tip inside before you winced in pain.

“relax, baby, relax,” jake soothed as he kissed the inner part of your thigh. you tried to will your body to loosen up, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. jake rubbed his thumb slowly into your clit, glancing down at you with a look full of concern. you were no doubt squeezing the hell out of him, if it weren’t obvious from the small whimpers leaving his mouth as he slowly pushed in more.

after basically doing breathing exercises and jake giving you soothing kisses, he finally bottomed out, halting his movements so you can adjust to his length and thickness. you moved your arms from where they covered your tear-filled eyes and jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. “you’re doing so well for me, pretty. tell me when to move,” he said softly.

once you felt like you weren’t being split in half, you gave him the go-ahead. jake leaned back again. “do you feel it…” he started. his hand pressed down on your lower stomach and you gasped softly. “right here?” he continued.

you took your lip between your teeth and nodded, “yes… please start moving, jake.” you didn’t know how long you could stand the feel of him completely stretching you out and filling you up. it felt like you were going to burst any minute if he didn’t do something.

“you want it that bad? you’re not scared anymore?” jake grinned and you shook your head. “good, remember what i told you.” he slid his hands up your stomach to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your hardened nipples before settling back down at your hips.

you struggled to remember what he was talking about, you mind going entirely blank. all you could think about was his cock inside you, his hands all over your body, and how you felt everything. was it “i’ll be gentle… i promise,” or “get use to the feeling of your body shaking”? your mind started to spin with how both sentences contradicted each other.

jake grunted as he slowly slid halfway out. “fuck…” he groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs. “you’re so fucking tight—squeezing the shit out of me, baby.” he pushed in a little too fast and you moaned out, half pleasure and half pain.

he continued his slow pace, making sure he didn’t go too fast so he wouldn’t hurt you. your body finally relaxed, eyes rolling back and sensitive walls fluttering around jake’s cock. “faster,” you breathed.

“faster?” jake repeated and you could just hear his smirk. “you want me to fuck you faster?” without a response, jake’s hips snapped to yours. he pulled his cock out until just his tip remained in you. jake hummed, waiting for your reply.

“yes!” you cried out, back arching from the way his cock rutted so deeply into you. your breathing was heavy and your tongue was heavy as you tried to form more words. “y-yes, please fuck me faster,” you whined, speech coming out slurred as your hands clawed at the messy blanket beneath you.

jake leaned down to bring his lips to yours just as he rutted into you once more. you moaned against his lips, the sound cutting off as he kissed you rougher. jake continued pounding into you, not hard enough to hurt you but enough to make sure you felt every inch of him inside you. he took your lip between his teeth as he pulled away slightly before letting go. “f-fuck you drive me crazy. do you know how long i’ve been waiting to do this to you? fuck your perfect pussy like this?”

you barely registered his words, your blown out pupils staring at him hazily as you moaned louder each time his hips connected with yours. jake continued, his words slurring, “and to think that asshole almost had you…” jake let out a wry laugh in between his heavy breaths, his hips moving faster on their own accord. “you’re mine. all mine. can that asshole fuck you senseless like this?”

you bucked your hips up, shaking your head rapidly. you really didn’t know who jake was talking about, but that didn’t matter to you. he was right, nobody can fuck you like he can.

jake kissed you sloppily through your moans, breath hot on your cheeks as he occasionally pulled back for air with the way his chest rose and fell heavily. “that’s it, baby... fucking take it,” he moaned when your back arched again and his cockhead hit deeper. “you’re taking my cock so well. do you like how i split you open like this? do you feel how deep i’m fucking into you, pretty?”

tears streamed down your faces as you moaned out incoherent words, too dumb on jake’s cock to think straight. all you could do was nod and tell him to move faster, clawing at his shoulders until your nails dragged red lines down his back. you never needed someone as much as you needed jake. it was like a fever, making you burn red-hot until every thought consisted of him

you whimpered loudly, trying to press your legs together and squirm away but jake held you in a death grip—making sure your legs stayed spread and your knees stayed pressed to your chest. your thighs shook in his grasp as you twisted from side to side, a squeal leaving your parted lips. “g-gonna cum!” you spoke shakily, whimpers falling from your mouth.

“good, baby. let go for me. cum all over my cock,” jake gritted out, accent heavy, before throwing his head back in a moan. he muttered out curses as his pace increased slightly and then kissed you roughly. he kissed along your jaw and now to your neck, right where you were the most sensitive and leaving goosebumps in his wake. jake sucked pretty markings onto your skin, claiming you further as his.

you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, on the verge of hiccuping just as you felt the cord in your stomach begin to fray. with a particularly hard thrust, wet squelching sounds filling the nighttime air, the cord snapped and you were smearing warm cum all over jake’s cock.

the pillow beneath your hips prevented the cum from dripping out of you except when jake thrusted into you, dribbles of cum leaking out from around the base of his cock. jake leaned his forehead to yours, “f-fuck, baby. you’re taking my cock so well. you feel how well you’re pretty pussy is taking me? it’s l-like your pussy was made for my cock.”

you felt jake twitch inside you before he was filling you up with even more cum, the white liquid completely coating him as he fucked his cum back into you. your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out from the overstimulation despite bucking your hips up to feel even more, unwrapping yourself from jake’s neck to grab a fistful of the blanket as you shook underneath him. “too m-much, jake! ah—“

jake kissed you hard, moaning softly against your lips. he pulled back and leaned back onto his knees, hand holding the base of his heavy cock that was still buried deep inside you. you managed to sit up on shaky elbows. your poor pussy was glistening with your arousal and painted white you and jake’s mixed cum.

you watched as jake slowly pulled out of you, creamy white liquid covering his softening cock, eyes fixed on how your pussy fluttered around the loss of him. the corners of his mouth pulled up into a wicked smile. you didn’t even notice how he had pulled out his disposable camera, nor the flashes of how fucked out your face looked and how completely ruined by him you were beneath the full moonlight. “good job, baby! i’m proud of how well you did,” jake leaned to kiss you, his cock sliding against your sensitive clit and making you jump. jake chuckled.

you beamed shyly, eyes avoiding his stare and instead focused on how his cum was still inside you. jake reached out his hands and you took them, slowly sitting up fully. his eyes focused on the way your mixed cum spilled down your thighs and dripped onto the blanket. “fuck,” jake murmured.

his eyes trailed up your body and to your swollen lips, his smile growing. you could see it in his eyes what he was thinking: you look the prettiest like this, defiled and my cum drilling out of you. jake kissed you again, softer than all of his previous kisses tonight.

“let’s get you cleaned up, pretty.”

“why are you walking so weirdly?” you mother’s voice startled you. you fiddled with the shear scarf you’re wearing. jake left a lot of love bites on you—most that you were able to cover with makeup but some that shone straight through it no matter how many layers of concealer you put on it. you didn’t really want your mom seeing that and asking a bunch of questions. it was also the height of summer and you could practically see the heatwaves in the air, so you didn’t really want to be sporting a turtleneck right now.

your voice comes out slightly unsteady, “what do you mean?”

your mom comes to stand in front of you, eying you up and down. her gaze flicks back to yours with an analytical look. “you’re walking like a duck. what’s wrong with you?” she questions.

racking your brain for a suitable and believable lie, you rush out, “oh, i just hurt my ankle a little bit on the walk to work yesterday...” her gaze widens. “but don’t worry, mom! it’s nothing serious. i’ve just been trying to not put as much pressure on it is all!” you quickly add.

you definitely weren’t telling her that you lost your virginity last night to the renown player in this small town and you walking funny was the result. no, that would be much too embarrassing. you straightened your walk a little, trying to make it seem like you were okay. you were glad your back was turned to her so it hid your wince of pain. maybe you shouldn’t have told jake to go so fast on your first time…

“we’ll make sure you ice it or something, you don’t need it getting worse,” your mother said before leaving the kitchen, mug in hand. you sighed in relief to yourself as you finished getting ready for work.

jake met you halfway on your journey and you smacked his arm hard whenever he came up next to you. “ow!” he laughed, cradling his arm. “what was that for?”

“that was for making me walk funny and leaving all kinds of love bites all over my skin that i had to try and hide!” you exclaimed, pointing at your neck with a pout. jake laughed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

you pouted again, “you said you’d be gentle!”

jake pulled down the scarf you were wearing with his free hand. he pressed kisses to your neck, right where the marks were, causing you to squirm away from him from the sensitivity. “i’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “but you did tell me to go faster.”

you rolled your eyes at him and he laughed more. jake leaned down, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear. “and i did say to get use to the feeling of your body shaking,” he added huskily, accent thick.

“besides, you should see the red lines and crescent marks you left all over my back. i’m a lifeguard, i can’t just put makeup and a scarf over it!” jake mumbled. you laughed at him.

the tank top he was wearing told you he clearly didn’t care if others saw the marks you left. it’s almost as if he wanted to show them off. the two of you continued your walk.

[ YOU HAVE TO SAY “GOODBYE” — 3RD MONTH ] ✈︎ thirty-one days until you return home.

you sighed deeply as you stretched out your tired joints after a particularly long shift. the sun was blaring on your skin all day and despite the thin clothing of your work uniform, it did nothing to save you from the heat. you desperately just wanted to meet up with jake so the two of you could go swimming before the afternoon sun went down.

in the distance down the boardwalk you caught sight of jake. a smile spread it’s way across your face as you excitedly called out to him. jake didn’t seem to hear you, instead turning the corner to where the water fountains were located. you quickened your step as you tried to catch up with him.

you were just about to call his name again as you turned the corner before you froze in your spot. the smile completely dropped from your face and you tucked yourself against the corner of the wall as your eyes widened at the scene in front of you.

jake and hana stood just a few feet from you. hana was pressed against him, arms lifting to wrap around his neck while one of his lingered around her waist, just barely hovering over the bare skin of her torso.

“oh? but you kissed me, so you obviously still have feelings for me!” you heard hana exclaim.

you moved to lean against the wall away from them, pressing your back to the cool bricks. you felt like your world was coming down around you, once again. how stupid—how foolish of you to believe jake. your chest rose heavily as you tried to catch your breath. and what did hana mean by “still”? was she one of his exes this whole time?

suddenly everything started to fall in place. hana’s constant encouragement of you ending things with jake under the guise of being a “good friend”. jake never coming to see you at work when hana was working the same shift as you. your eyes widened as you finally understood why jake was acting weirdly towards you the week leading up to the beach party.

it was hana he saved from drowning. the very same hana you told him was your good friend. you felt so stupid. you tried hard to keep the tears from brimming in your eyes.

you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself off the wall and another as you steadied yourself to go up to them. “—to mouth, …psycho!” you heard jake say distantly, but the drumming in your ears overtook his words.

you stormed up to them and as soon as jake saw you he jumped five feet away from where he and hana were pressed up against each other. a nervous smile quickly appeared on his face and his mouth opened to speak before he got a good look at the state you were in. the smile fell from his face. “y/n, listen to me… it’s not—“

“you know what, i should’ve listened when people kept telling me you were a fucking player,” you swiftly cut him off, venom dripping from your voice with so much ferocity that it shocked even you. “you never cared about me, did you?”

jake opened his mouth again, eyebrows knitting together, but you didn’t let him speak. “is our spot even our spot, or is that where you take all the girls you want to sleep with? make them feel special and like they’re the only girl in the world for a night before tossing them to the side?”

“nobody knows about that place but you. you’re the only one who knows about it, i swear, y/n. and i’m not playing you or tossing you aside. please, let me expl—“ jake started.

“some people are just made for each other and some people aren’t! and clearly… you and jake aren’t meant for each other,” hana butted in, swinging her attention towards you with a smug smirk. it was like she was a completely different person now that the mask was taken off. she put a hand on your shoulder, “i’m your friend, take it from me!”

you harshly shrugged her off, causing her to scoff loudly. you glared at her fiercely. “shut the fuck up, hana!” you and jake spit out at the same time.

you refused to let the hurt creep into your voice, refused to let the two of them win against you. “i thought you were my friend, hana? how could you? the whole time you were only in my ear to try and give yourself the advantage. you’re both pieces of shit,” you said while staring daggers at her. you attention turned to jake.

it was almost impossible to not let the hurt show through. you had really tried, but looking into jake’s eyes was the last nail in the coffin. his eyes were glossed over and he went to reach for you but you backed away. “all you wanted from me was to get your dick wet. you’re such a fucking asshole, i never should’ve let myself get close to you. never should’ve found that stupid spot and never should’ve met you. all it caused was trouble,” you finally spoke, voice quiet as the tears slipped from your eyes.

you turned to leave but jake grabbed your wrist, you refused to turn and back and look at him. if you did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand your ground because despite everything, you still wanted to be with him.

“y/n… please,” jake breathed, his voice breaking.

you roughly yanked your wrist from his grasp and more tears fell from your eyes. “you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your game anymore. i’ll be gone by the end of the month and we’ll never see each other again. we’re done, jake.”

you inhaled sharply, pushing down a sob as you quickly walked away from the two of them. behind you, jake kept calling your name, but it only pushed you to go faster until you were running. tears blocked your eyes as you let your feet guide you home.

your body collided with a hard chest and you looked up, sniffling and wiping your tears. “what happened?” jay asked as he steadied you.

all you wanted was to be in the comfort of your bed right now. you couldn’t help the broken sob that left your mouth. “you were right… there aren't any winners in the player’s game. i get that now. thanks for telling me, jay,” you pushed out quickly before hurriedly making your way home.

you pushed through the front door and immediately ran over to where your mother stood half in shock. she wrapped her arms around you, her hand rubbing comforting circles in your back. “oh honey, what is it?” she asked softly between your wracked cries.

you just wished this day never happened.

two weeks have passed since you’ve last seen jake. two weeks have passed since you last saw anybody, really. you’ve mainly stuck to the confines of your mother’s childhood bedroom crying until you no longer had any tears to cry. you laid curled up in your bed, completely numb.

your family, especially your worried mother, tried checking up on you to see what happened but you just kept saying the same thing over and over again, “i’m fine.” or at the very least, you will be once you’re back in your hometown and far away from this one. there was only a little over two more weeks left and then you’ll be rid of all this drama for good.

a little over two more weeks and you’ll never have to see or even think about jake sim ever again.

half of you is finally ready to go home. it was funny how you thought this place would give you a pseudo fresh start. the other half of you… it wants some type of closure.

for the two weeks you’ve been tied to this bed you’ve debated on if you wanted to give jake one last and final goodbye. not for him, but for you. to close this chapter of your life once and for all. you sighed as you heard your phone buzz again.

jake: i know you said you needed space, but please let me explain everything. jake: i promise you nothing happened between me and hana. jake: or any other girl besides you for that matter. jake: please talk to me, y/n.

he’s been texting and occasionally calling you since you left him and hana to their own devices two weeks ago. you haven’t answered a single call or message from him. at first, you read every message that came through and listened to every voicemail, but listening to his voice, accent filled with sadness and guilt, made you feel worse.

you ignored the buzzing as a knock sounded on your door. you didn’t have the energy to move from the blank, white wall you were staring at, nevermind talk, so the knocker entered without a word. the bed dipped beside you and a hand was placed on your shoulder.

“honey, there’s lunch downstairs if you’re hungry,” you mother spoke, softly. you said nothing. you heard her defeated sigh as she stood to her feet.

“mom?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, as you turned to her. you caught a glimpse in the mirror of your red-rimmed puffy eyes. you looked like you went through the ringer. your mom froze briefly before turning back to you with a hopeful smile. “can we catch an early flight back home?” you continued.

your mother’s smile faltered slightly, but she nodded sadly. just then, another knock was heard. this time you recognized it as the front door. your mom gave you one last sad smile before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. you went back to staring at the same blank, white wall. a moment later your mother came back.

“it’s for you.”

you sighed softly and pulled yourself up from the bed. you felt like a zombie with your red eyes and dark circles and pajamas that hung limply off your body as you made the trek to the front door. with another sigh, you opened it, breath catching in your throat.

jake stood on the other side, blonde hair looking like he hasn’t brushed it a day in his life and the same red eyes and dark circles as you. he had dark brown roots sprouting from his scalp, despite him always making sure to keep them touched up. he looked rough, but you suppose you didn’t look any better.

“y/n…” jake breathed, like he couldn’t actually believe he’d ever see you standing in front of him again.

in the corner of your vision you saw your mom exit down the hallway to her room, giving the two of you some privacy. you didn’t hear anyone else in the house, so your aunt and cousin must’ve been out. you resisted the urge to slam the door shut in jake’s face. “i don’t want to see you,” you spoke sternly, a bite in your tone.

“i won’t be able to live with myself if you leave believing in a lie. please hear what i have to say,” jake pleaded.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you fought back tears. seeing him was too much. everything, every emotion came slamming against you like a tsunami and you wobbled on your feet. you inhaled a shaky breath and opened your eyes as tears fell from them. “i. don’t. care. i don’t care what you have to say, i don’t want to hear it!” you shuddered, voice progressively getting louder as more and more tears fell from your eyes and his.

you shut your eyes again and focused on steadying your breathing. a hand came to rest on your upper-back. “i think you should go,” you heard your mother’s voice say protectively. you didn’t open your eyes again until you heard jake’s retreating footsteps. only then did you see his defeated retreating figure.

your mom pulled you into a hug and shut the door, effectively blocking your view of jake. you buried your face in her chest as a sob overtook your whole body. your mother held you close, rubbing comforting circles in your back.

the next day you couldn’t get the vision of jake at your doorstep out of your mind. it’s all you thought about all night. the tears that fell from his eyes and his defeated stance as he ushered away. you decided on the half of you that wanted closure.

you: meet me at your spot.

despite you sending that message as you were already halfway there, jake was still there before you like he always was. he was pacing around when you entered, looking even worse than he did yesterday. when he turned and saw you, he immediately started, “y/n, i—“

you held up a hand to stop him. you didn’t come here to hear his excuses. “don’t speak,” you said, and you sounded so done with the world. like nothing even mattered anymore. “i’m not here to hear whatever excuses you’ve come up with, i’m here merely for closure.”

jake’s brows furrowed as you talked and his shoulders slumped. a look of confusion rang loudly on his face as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “i’m going back home early—a couple days from now, actually. so this is goodbye, jake.” you turned to leave but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“wait…” jake murmured with a pleading gaze. he pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and pressed it into the hand that held your wrist until your grip tightened around it. you looked down briefly and looked back up at jake with a melancholic look.

“please,” jake begged, voice a whisper. “please don’t go.”

you shook your head at him and went to pull your wrist from his grasp but he held on tighter, refusing to let you slip through his fingers again. “what about the rest of our bucket list—summer splash? we were supposed to go together… and i was supposed to show you more of the hidden spots around town—you can’t leave yet, y/n. you can’t.”

you looked away from him and the way his voice broke as he spoke to you. you pulled your wrist again to escape the shaking from his hands. this time you were able to break free. you shook your head again, “goodbye, jake.”

you didn’t look back at him as you sped away, over the rocks and through the warm sand as tears fell once again from your eyes. you knew if you did you’d stay, and you just didn’t know how much more heartbreak your heart could take. you had to leave, there was no other option. if you looked back at him, you would’ve stayed forever.

as you and your mother packed your things for your upcoming flight, the letter jake gave you burned a hole through your brain from how much you were thinking about it. the feather-light paper weighed a ton of bricks everytime you picked it up that you stuck it in the pocket of your suitcase to hopefully forget about it. you didn’t.

it was all you could think about as you said your goodbyes to your family and as you entered the airport to wait for your flight. you didn’t want to read it, but a part of you had to know what the contents of the letter were.

you slipped the letter out of the pocket it was in as you were boarding your flight, making sure to keep a tight hold of it so you wouldn’t lose it anywhere. only when your mother had fallen asleep did you unfold it and read jake’s words, inhaling sharply as your eyes scanned the first line.

to my love, my one and only,

i’ve never really written a letter to someone before. as i told you, i’m not really the best at expressing my emotions, but i’ve run out of options to get my feelings across to you. i really do hope you read this.

where do i start? from the beginning, i guess… when i pulled you out from the water, you were the prettiest girl i had ever seen. i’ll admit that then, i only saw you at face value. i only saw what you could do for me, and not you as a person. but then i thought that it was fine because it was likely that i’d never see you again, until i saw you at our spot.

something in my brain just automatically clicked and i had to get to know you; know your name and all of your interests and hobbies and every single little mundane thing about you. i just knew i had to know you. put aside my ways and be someone worthy of even being your friend. so that’s what i did, or at least, that’s what i tried really hard to do. it turns out when you’ve screwed over as many people as i did, karma comes to bite you in the ass quick.

but even then, i couldn’t help falling in love with you. i wanted to spend every waking moment with you, just breathing the same air. unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from fucking up repeatedly. i got jealous, and albeit—even a little possessive, and got out of line. i really hurt you and words can’t describe how sorry i am.

i’ll say it once, and i’ll say it a million more times if i have to. i meant what i said when i told you that you’re the only want i wanted. not hana, not some random other girl, you. you’re the one i want, the one that i desperately need, and now you’re slipping through my fingers because of my own dumb actions.

i should’ve been honest with you and maybe things wouldn’t have ended like this. i’m sorry that hana and i’s past ruined our relationship, and i’m sorry that i let so many things come between us to ruin it as well.

about two years ago, hana and i dated. it didn’t last very long, only four months, but she’s made my life hell ever since trying to get back with me. no, i didn’t cheat on her or anything of that sort, we just didn’t click. and i don’t know if it was my reputation or what, but she’s been trying to tell me in any way she could that that was a mistake.

i don’t know how much you overheard, but none of it was true. she cornered me and wrapped herself around me, saying how i must’ve still had feelings for her since we “kissed.” the kiss in question being me giving her mouth to mouth and saving her life. i told her that she was a psycho to think that mouth to mouth—saving a person’s life—was kissing. that’s when you found us.

i would do anything to fix this, anything for another chance with you. prove to you that i’m someone you can be with and not have to worry about what my next move will be. if i’m being completely honest—and i’m not saying this to try and manipulate you or anything, so please don’t take it that way—but over the course of the summer i really have fallen for you, y/n. with these unfortunate circumstances, it made me realize that i love you, i really do. and i’ll fight for you, because our relationship can’t end on this note. i refuse.

i’m so sorry for everything i’ve done and everything that has happened because of me. and the worst part is, i’m not sure if i’ll ever even be able to tell you any of this in person. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever even see you again, but i have have hope that i will. like the poets say, or whatever, two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be.

no matter how long it take, i’ll wait for you.

i’m also sorry for this shitty fucking letter, i tried to be all poetic and in tune with my emotions, but i got do clue how to do any of that shit. i hope my emotions still shine through, though. i love you.

always yours, jake

you clamped a hand over your mouth as you suppressed your sobs, looking at the letter through your now blurry vision. you didn’t know how to feel, if you were being honest with yourself. it took your mind a while just to process everything he was saying. the one thing that stuck with you at the moment was the fact that he loved you. jake loved you, and you were coming to the startling realization that you loved him too.

you’ve never loved anyone romantically, but the feeling was undeniable as anything but. you loved him and he loved you.

tucking the letter neatly and safely into the pocket of your carry-on bag, you tried to focus on everything that has happened this summer. tried to name every emotion that came up and categorize every thought. you still didn’t come up with an inkling on how to feel. even if jake’s words were true, which you suspect they were, that doesn’t change all the hurt he put you through because of his selfishness.

but still, you regretted ending everything how you did. now you were millions of miles in the air far away from where jake was and the only thought in your head was how you missed him already. how you wished you kissed him one last time.

how you wished you were next to him laying under the stars where the rest of the world melted away.

but it was too late. you had already made your decision, and you had no choice but to stick with it.

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[suguann]

✎. you aren’t happy about your roommate’s party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.

tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy

featuring. simon

It’s your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment that’s probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.

You don’t like parties, really. 

Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.

So, no, you can’t exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finn’s friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartment—especially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps. 

And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.

"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cereal—something probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.

Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."

“Harmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.”

You don’t have to see her face to know she’s doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. “If you’d agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldn’t be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?”

"That's easy for you to say.” You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. “You don’t have to sit by him every week.”

(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)

"Ow! Shit!"

You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.

"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"

Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."

You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."

You’re pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween store—the amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.

Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."

You roll your eyes. "I really don’t feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.”

She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.”

"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You don’t think you’d ever be able to look her in the eye again.

"Miss Yado is cool,” Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. “She'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."

You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."

Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late." 

“Oh?”

She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."

In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I don’t scowl."

"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold." 

Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesn’t do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to smile,” she tells you before the front door closes behind you.

You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, you’re wondering why Finn couldn’t do this herself, considering you’re hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morning—only one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.

But it’s fine. You’re not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.

There’s a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this time—half expecting another door to the face. What you don’t expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.

Who also doesn’t appear to be any less annoyed.

Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.

You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.

How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?

He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes you’d gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, you’re willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it out—especially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks. 

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasn’t been awake for long.

You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that you’ve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.

"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.

"Thank you,” heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely don’t stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). “But I think I'm getting a little old for parties."

The corners of your mouth tip up in what’s the beginning of a smile.

"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"

It’s a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid he’d been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"

"Witch, actually. I’ve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.

"It’s cute." 

Cute?

You’re unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-conscious—that he might be making fun of you—so you settle with a mumbled “thanks.”

"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.

"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, it’s to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.

You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"

"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."

"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.

"Um, a pumpkin..."

You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.

"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."

You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"

"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe I’ll bring some over some time."

"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.

"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."

You shyly shake it—ignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yours—and tell him your name, too.

His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."

Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots he’s wearing.

When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like you’d been openly eyeing his crotch. 

You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesn’t hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.”

"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."

"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though it’s probably closer to running) toward your door.

And you definitely don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s still standing there.

You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show up—even though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that he’s too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.

"The guy was running late,” Finn had tried to reassure you. “I'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."

That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finn’s been trying to force you into—only so you don’t have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.

And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.

"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finn’s nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."

Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube." 

You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, you’d clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that you’d come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.

Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks you’ve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadn’t anticipated—especially when one of them happens to be Miller.

You’ve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy you’ve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times. 

And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, you’re only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.

You’ll be fine, Finn said.

Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if it’s too late to change—

A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when it’s one of Finn’s friends and her girlfriend instead.

"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smile—which is more or less a grimace.

Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."

Everything she’s saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.

But he keeps walking.

"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."

You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isn’t easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you don’t miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.

It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looks—his shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyes—though he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.

And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty. 

"Hey," you repeat dumbly. 

Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today.  

After a moment, you meet his gaze again. 

"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come over…But I imagine you're probably not up for it, so I’ll leave—"

Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."

Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"

"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"

"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.

A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.

And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.

masterlist

[jasvtsc]

dean winchester x angel!reader — first time.

warnings! mdni! smut. male masturbation. reader catching dean. female masturbation. mentions of oral (both m and f receiving). fingering. praising. first time. dean talking you through it. pet names. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it). graphic language. dean has a breeding kink. grammar mistakes.

word count! 3.5k

you were just… so sweet.

so painfully sweet and innocent. and dean didn’t want to take that away from you. he wanted you to be that innocent angel, curious of everything as long as you could. without being scarred by an ordinary mortal like him. the fact you happened to love him out of all people still baffled him. but he wasn’t complaining since he was absolutely and utterly in love with you.

but then again, you were driving him crazy to the point where the ache in his pants was getting worse and worse, day by day, where now his hand wasn’t enough to satisfy him. at this point, he got cramps in his fingers and couldn’t squeeze them in a fist properly.

he needed you. badly.

and you were so oblivious to the effect you had on him. every time you brushed against his body. or when you were in his bed, curiously watching scooby-doo as you demanded he put it on since he told you it was his favourite show when he was a kid—and you wanted to know all his favourite things. or when you’d explore your boundaries, testing out some physical contact by randomly taking his hand in yours, tucking your head under his arm as you stood next to each other, cuddling together as you went to sleep or kissing.

christ, you were so adorable. he loved you so much.

and you were so good at stirring his cock to life, unaware of what was happening.

which was pretty much the reason for his current predicament. dean was making something in the kitchen, and as the curious little angel that you were, you came closer and snuck under his arm, so now you were placed between the stove and his body.

he inhaled sharply, his eyes widening as your plush ass rubbed against his crotch. it was enough for a red light to light in his brain, and his thoughts beginning to go haywire.

too close. too close. step back. step back, he kept repeating to himself.

but how could he possibly step away from you when you looked so gorgeous, just innocently trying to learn something new from your boyfriend? dear god, was he going to hell. again.

he looked down since you were shorter than him, which was a mistake. his eyes widened, and his mouth watered as he was met with the valley of your perky breasts, a deep cutout in your shirt doing only so little to help his fantasies.

not only that, but he did start wandering where you even get clothes LIKE THAT.

fuck, who was picking your clothes? stupid question, as if he wasn’t the one to do so.

the truth was that dean spoiled you immensely. now, instead of buying the newest copy of ‘busty asian beauties’, he was picking out some magazines for you to read. you’d look at all the pretty pictures—that’s what you’d call them, and point at clothes you liked. and dean would get them for you when you stopped by some shops. how did he know your breast cup size, though?

well, he was experienced like that. and he loved looking down at your boobs when you were sleeping in his arms.

anyway.

to complete the overall outfit, you were wearing those low-cut jeans that nicely accented your plump ass that he loved swatting as you went past him. and the way your white panties were sticking out just made him imagine his fingers slipping under the fabric and making it dampen as he—

he took a sharp breath. again.

dean took a step back after all, only to discreetly palm his crotch as he hummed some kind of response to the question you just asked him. however, he couldn’t think straight. so, making up some lame excuse, he kissed you on your temple and quickly went to his bedroom, sitting down on his bed and resting his back against the pillow, already propped up.

he rubbed the bulge in his pants, groaning at the feeling of his cock straining against the fabric. he couldn’t take it anymore. he fumbled with his belt and pulled his pants and boxers down, freeing his dick. his massive length sprung free, hard as a rock, already leaking beads of precum. he spat on his hand, not bothering to take the lotion out of his night drawer and started stroking himself.

he started off slowly, imagining that it was your delicate hand, your small fingers grabbing his dick for the first time, barely able to wrap around his girth. he imagined you gasping in surprise as you would start moving your hand up and down, letting him guide you through it, so you’d do your best to pleasure him. and you would—he knew it. you were such a good little angel for him.

dean groaned and squeezed harder, picking up the pace of his hand, his pants and moans getting more audible, but he didn’t care about it at the moment. now, he was imagining you taking him in your mouth. at first, you’d be too eager—you’d gag around him and quickly pull back with that sheepish smile of yours when you did something wrong. holy fuck. he’d reassure you, and then you’d try again, slowly, taking the tip first, gently suckling with your pretty plump lips he loved to kiss. then, you’d go lower and lower, your cheeks hollowing as you—

the door to his room slammed open, and his heart stopped. he widened his eyes and turned his head, seeing… you out of all the people.

fuck him (not that he would mind).

you entered the room with that godforsaken curious expression, closing the door behind you. then, you stood by the side of his bed, your head tilted to the side as you looked at him, blinking slowly, as if you didn’t notice his fat, messy cock, tightly gripped in his hand, with skin slightly reddened from the intense strokes.

“are you okay?” you asked softly, and dean wished that something could just kill him right now, his face as red as it could possibly get.

“yeah. why are you asking?” he chuckled nervously, quickly tucking himself back in his pants, even though it was painful at this point. god, he needed to cum so badly.

“i don’t know. you disappeared. and then you were panting and calling my name, and i thought something was happening and that you needed my help,” you just couldn’t be more innocent than that. “i was scared something was wrong,” you admitted shyly, fiddling with your fingers.

and gosh, he’d take your face in his hands if it wasn’t for one of them being covered in precum.

“hey, don’t worry, birdie. i’m okay. just needed—“ he sighed, straightening his back and trying to muffle a grunt. “some relief.”

“from what?” yeah, of course, you’d ask. your curiosity was picked up again.

“it’s nothing that you should stress your little feathery head with,” he smiled, adjusting himself, trying his best not to moan.

and you took a moment to look at him. you tilted your head as your eyes raked over his body, his twitching hand and the massive tent in his pants. you blinked a few times as that familiar feeling you didn’t know started pooling in your lower abdomen. ogling his groin, you rubbed your thighs together, and dean noticed that instantly.

so angels do get horny.

he swallowed thickly, his mouth practically going dry as he saw your face contorting in frustration as you swayed from one leg to the other, trying to get some friction between your legs.

that’s when dean decided that he wouldn’t leave you hanging like that.

“what are you doing, birdie?” he asked, licking his lips.

“i don’t know. i have this weird feeling in my belly,” you scoffed with a small pout. “like i’m excited or something.”

“that’s cause you are. you’re aroused, baby,” he hummed, reaching his left hand out to you. he hooked his fingers under the hem of your jeans, pulling you closer so you were now standing between his legs. he rubbed your hip and smiled softly. “do you know how babies are made?” a stupid question, but, he needed to know that you were aware.

“dean, i know what sex is. i just didn’t think angels could feel that. apparently they can, and i feel like that only around you,” you huffed in frustration while dean couldn’t be more ecstatic than that. you were horny only around him.

“well, have you ever done it?” he asked, almost breathlessly. it felt like the best day of his life.

“no. i didn’t have to,” this matter-of-fact tone only made the older winchester chuckle in amusement.

“birdie, it’s not something you have to do. it’s something you do to feel good. to have some fun with the person you love. it’s not some obligatory task, y’know?” he explained, squeezing your hip.

“like the pizza man?” you tilted your head to the side, and dean sighed. damn, cas, for showing it to you.

“exactly. like the pizza man,” a small smile on his lips as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on your stomach. “but my question is, do you want to feel good, birdie? do you want to do this with me?” maybe, after all, he’d take some of your innocence. but just a little…

you nodded your head, the ache between your legs only intensifying. dean smiled and stroked your cheek with his knuckles.

“good girl,” and then, he pulled you in for the kiss that couldn’t scream hunger any louder.

he was kissing you with a fervour that you happily returned, your fingers tugging on his short hair, making him gasp in your mouth. he’s tongue quickly dominated yours, tasting the familiar cavern of your mouth.

dean grabbed you by the nape of your neck, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling him. he grunted into the kiss, grinding his hips up into you. the massive bulge in his pants rubbed against your clothed heat, making you gasp so sweetly into his lips.

“fuck, i need you so much, birdie. can i have you?” he practically whimpered, looking into your eyes with so much desperation and pent-up feelings.

you smiled and nodded, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

“of course, deano,” and it was enough to make him feel like he was on top of the world.

quickly, he spun you around, your back on the plush blanket as he made his way between your legs. his breath hitched as he fumbled with your jeans, slowly sliding them down. his eyes fell wide open, and he felt as if his heart stopped when he saw that your white panties were practically transparent from how soaked they were.

“you’re this excited, birdie?” he asked with a small chuckle, throwing your pants on the floor. he lay down on his stomach, right between your legs, looking at your dampened underwear as if it was the most beautiful sight in the whole world. “you’re so wet. for me,” he sighed, almost in disbelief.

meanwhile, you felt shy. you trusted dean, but it was something totally new, and you didn’t know what to expect. angels weren’t supposed to feel like that… at all. but then again, you fell in love with a human, so might as well go to hell with it.

dean started blowing on the dampened spot, his warm breath making you squirm, your thighs trembling. you tried to lift them up, bent your knees, but he stopped you, throwing your legs over his shoulders, scooting closer to your needy pussy.

“i didn’t know you were sensitive like that,” he chuckled and pressed a small kiss against your clothed core. you gasped softly, mindlessly moving your hips as if to grind against his face.

you were flustered and didn’t know what to do. which dean noticed and took it as his personal mission to make it feel good for you. he looked up at your reddened face with a soft smile, rubbing circles with his fingers on the soft skin of your thighs.

“i’ll make it so good for you, birdie. i promise,” he panted, and then, he practically ripped your white panties open. not that he was planning on getting rough with you—he just didn’t want to pull away from his new favourite place.

as soon as your pussy was bare to his eyes, he almost gasped in amazement. your pinky folds were covered in arousal, glistening deliciously as if to invite him to bury his face there. he brushed against them with his fingers, and then, slowly parted them open. he inhaled sharply through his nose as he placed his fingers on your clit, already feeling how swollen it was under his digits. he started rubbing it in soft circles, making you gasp and arch into his touch. jesus christ, it was like all his dreams came true in this moment.

“you have such a pretty little pussy, birdie. and you’re already so eager for me,” he muttered breathlessly, grinding his hips against the mattress as he was touching you.

his other hand moved to your entrance, his fingers probing it open, and then, he slowly slid one finger inside. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, sitting up and looking at what he was doing.

“shh, shh. it’ll feel good, baby. i promise. watch and learn so you can help yourself if i’m not around, okay?” he cooed, looking up to meet your eyes.

after receiving a nod of confirmation, dean continued. slowly, he started moving his finger inside of you, feeling your soft walls clamp around it greedily. fuck, he wanted to sink his cock inside you as soon as possible to feel you flutter around him, memorize his shape as it twitched eagerly inside of you, ready to spill his thick cum deep inside your womb, marking you as his. but first, he needed to prepare you for it.

then, he added the second finger, moving them in and out but also trying to stretch your tight hole for his dick. it could barely take in two of his fingers, so he was only imagining how tight you’d feel wrapped around his cock—which made it twitch painfully in his pants.

you were making such beautiful sounds—every shy groan, gasp or a whimper, sending him into oblivion as you watched him fingering you like a good little student.

however, as soon as he felt your walls begin to flutter around his digits, he slowly withdrew them, making you whine quietly at the sudden emptiness. he smiled and looked at you while his thumb was pressed against your swollen bud. “i know you want more, baby. but now it’s time for something better, and i want you to finish with me. but i’ll kiss that pretty pussy later and make you feel good again,” he promised, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as his thumb stroked your clit. you gasped and nodded, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him.

“i need you, dean,” you whined so pathetically that he felt he’d cum in his pants right at that exact moment.

he nodded his head, taking his clothes off at the same time, eager to sink deeply into your warmth. as soon as he pulled his boxers down, his cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. you widened your eyes curiously, tilting your head to the side as you watched it throb, precum leaking down from the tip. subconsciously, you licked your lips, your cunt only getting wetter. dean smirked cockily, getting between your legs once again.

“like what y’see, birdie?” he chuckled, stroking himself a few times, spreading the precum on his length.

then, he rubbed the tip of his fat cock against your dripping slit, coating it in your juices. finally, he nudged the head of his erection in your entrance, slowly pushing in, filling your desperate cunt. you gasped loudly, your eyes widening as you felt his cock stretching you out. with a whine, you leaned back on the pillow, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a few needy whimpers.

dean grunted, feeling your walls flutter around him, trying to accommodate his size.

“you’re so fucking tight, birdie,” he panted, slowly pushing forward, trying to sink in fully, just waiting for the moment his tip would brush against your cervix. one hand was firmly holding your hip meanwhile the other moved to your chest, giving your breast a firm squeeze as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, feeling it harden in his touch.

soon, he was fully sheathed in you, the tip of his dick pressed against your cervix, your walls stretching on his girth, already memorizing each throbbing vein. he looked down at you with a soft smile, stroking your hair as he moved some of it out of your already sweaty forehead.

“how are you doing, birdie? feels good?” he asked. he wanted to make sure that it was 100% pleasurable to you, and he’d stop as soon as he noticed even a slight narrowing of your brows.

you nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “yhym. y-yeah. feels good,” you sighed, slowly relaxing after the intrusion.

dean smiled and kissed you lovingly on your lips, beginning to move as soon as he felt that you weren’t so tense anymore. you gasped softly when he pulled out, the head of his cock still nestled in your pussy, and then moved back in. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your nails digging into his back, leaving dark crescent marks on his skin. he hissed and groaned in pleasure, picking up the pace.

“you drive me crazy, birdie. feels so good. so wet. i should’ve put my cock in you a long time ago,” he moaned, his hips beginning to slam against yours, the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the walls along with the sound of your pussy eagerly slurping him in.

soon, he was pounding in and out of you, your lovemaking echoing obscurely to the point it was heard outside of the room, and you just imagined the look of exasperation on sam’s face as he pondered over getting some earplugs. but it quickly disappeared from your mind, your focus landing back on dean and his cock, basically splitting you open.

he threw your legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs as this new position allowed him to go even deeper. you were holding onto the headboard, moans leaving your mouth nonstop, and as he hit that sweet spot inside of you, you almost screamed, clenching around him.

“you’re gonna cum? huh, birdie? cum for me,” he panted, thrusting into you even harder.

you yelped pathetically, feeling a knot forming in your lower belly, your body tensing up as it was preparing to fall over the edge.

“yeah, that’s it. cum for me, angel. you’re so pretty. fuck, i love you so much,” he panted, freeing your legs and just holding your thighs as he made you wrap them around his waist. then, he leaned forward, crashing his lips on yours in a desperate kiss.

and that was enough to send you over the edge. you clenched around him and then relaxed as your juices started gushing out on his length. he helped you come down from your high. however, his movements faltered as he was close too. he shortly followed after you, stilling in your cunt as he spilled thick ropes of his pearly seed inside your warm womb.

he drew out your climax and finally slumped down, resting on top of you. he cradled you in his arms, his head resting between your breasts as his soft cock was still nestled inside of you, your mixed juices dripping out, creating a mess.

“god, you were amazing,” he said, kissing the side of your breast. however, you quickly slapped his arm, making him hiss and raise his head at you, a small pout on his lips. “ow, what was that for?”

“don’t say his name now!” you huffed, your cheeks red as if you were caught doing something inappropriate. dean chuckled and lifted himself up, peppering your face with kisses.

“okay, okay. i won’t,” he murmured, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, just basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

after a while, he pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of you. he smiled proudly and scooped some up with his thumb, pushing it back inside.

“just so nothing goes to waste,” he hummed. “we’re definitely going to do it more often from now on,” he grinned at you, studying your face. “you’ll be full of my seed every day.”

and once again, you had that curious expression on.

“can we do it now?”

dean was flabbergasted with how quickly you had recovered. but then again, you were an angel, and his dick was already hardening.

who was he to deny his little angel?

a/n: i didn’t expect it to be so long lmfao😭lmk what you think<3

༄♡ tags: @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @figthoughts @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @deansbite @10ava01

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Oh, to own a purple Victorian. Here's a 1900 Victorian in Haverhill, MA, 9bds, 4ba, $775K.

Pink central hall. All original wood, but they painted the railing white and replaced the floor with that modern light wood.

This home is huge. Not only does it have 9 bds, but the rooms are gigantic. Look at the doorway opening to this sitting room.

The 2nd sitting room has an unusual brick fireplace in the corner.

The dining room has original wainscoting and a built-in china cabinet.

The kitchen has a commercial grade chef's stove.

The cabinets are beautiful, but the kitchen looks so new in comparison to the rest of the house. It needs some Victorian elements.

The funny thing about Victorians is that they always modernize the kitchens, but leave the pantries original. Love the sink.

Now, this is a beautiful sitting room with a lovely fireplace.

Cute little powder room.

Wow, bedroom with a very large en-suite.

The bedrooms are lovely.

I really love the pink stairs and halls.

Look at the lovely terrace.

Linen closet.

And, this gorgeous sun porch.

Now, we're up in the finished attic.

There's a sink unit. It's not a kitchenette, but I guess you can put one in.

This is nice.

Vintage bath. This is cool.

Looks like there's a workshop in the basement.

Back on the main floor, there's a cute little porch to go out to the garden.

They built a huge multi-tiered deck, a stone patio and a pretty garden.

8,655 sq ft lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/129-Arlington-St-Haverhill-MA-01830/56048843_zpid/

[jyoongim]

~Blood & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

chapter two

Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor. 

Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.

You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you. 

It was a dream come true.

But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man.  You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?

Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.

You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.

Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.

He,  himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.

Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him. 

It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.

And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.

Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be! 

Doting, providing, and attentive.

But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…

Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?

Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.

You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.

You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.

After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.

You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so. 

You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.

”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”

You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.

With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.

“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.

Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”

You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.

Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.

It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.

But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.

Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget,  Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.” 

Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on. 

“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.

It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.

He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.

You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.

You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.

A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep

”Goodnight” 

”Sleep tight dear”

”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”

”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.

Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.

What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!

Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!

Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!

if i missed anyone my bad!!!!

@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000

[solarmorrigan]

“Hey.”

Eddie looks up from the inventory sheet he’s bent over (the new shipment of records isn’t going to record itself – Christ, that was awful, Henderson is contagious) to see his coworker Kyle poking his head into the back room.

“Someone left something for you at the counter.”

“Who?” Eddie asks, brows furrowed.

Most everyone in town seems to have let the murder accusations drop (embarrassed enough by their own fanatical reactions that they’d much rather forget the whole thing), but a few people still treat him like a felon walking free; it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Uh, real normie-looking guy. Gives you a ride sometimes.”

Eddie blinks. “Steve?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kyle shrugs. “Says you left it in his car.”

Whatever Eddie is expecting to see when he follows Kyle back out to the front counter of the music shop, a brown bag lunch isn’t it. He most certainly hadn’t left that in Steve’s car this morning.

Steve hadn’t even given him a ride that morning.

But it’s got his name on it, sure enough, in Steve’s weirdly neat handwriting. The asshole even drew a little heart next to it.

Eddie can already feel a smile pulling across his face as he snatches up the bag. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten his lunch in Steve’s car, but he certainly hadn’t brought one in with him. He’d been planning to hit up the McDonald’s down the street if he got desperate, but whatever Steve’s brought him is bound to be better.

“Your girlfriend pack that for you?” Kyle asks.

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh, for a minute not quite sure how to answer.

Gender assumptions aside, Eddie doesn’t know what to call this thing with Steve – this thing where they’d started screwing and then they’d started falling asleep together without screwing and then they’d started spending all their free time together and now Steve does things like pack Eddie lunch and bring it to him at work.

“Sorta,” he finally settles on.

“Dude, if she’s making you lunch and writing little hearts next to your name, she’s more than ‘sorta’ your girlfriend,” Kyle says.

“Yeah… Maybe,” Eddie allows, because – well, because maybe.

“Pretty nice of your friend to drive it over, though,” Kyle says. “Pretty sure at least half of my friends would’ve just eaten it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, warm and a little smug, “Steve’s a good dude.”

He digs into the lunch sack and finds an apple sitting on top (of course), a baggie of Keebler fudge cookies (score), and a Tupperware container filled with–

“Oh, fuck yes!” Eddie hugs the precious little tub full of macaroni and cheese to his chest like he’s doing his best Gollum impression. There is nothing in the world better than Steve’s mac and cheese.

It’s still warm.

“I’m taking my break!” Eddie declares, skittering off to the back room before Kyle can argue.

He sits himself down in the employee break area (a crappy folding table, two mismatched chairs, and a microwave so old he’s probably getting radiation poisoning just by sitting next to it) and digs in to the cheesy goodness that is Steve’s cooking.

He’ll eat the apple after, he reasons.

(No he won’t.)

As he eats, his eyes drift back to the crumpled brown bag, to the little heart drawn in bleeding black sharpie, and he thinks.

-

Steve’s house smells like chicken and herbs when Eddie lets himself in early in the evening, and oh, Steve must be in a good mood today.

Eddie feels spoiled.

He finds Steve in the kitchen, wrist-deep in sudsy water as he sways back and forth absently to the tune of the rock station coming from the radio on the windowsill. The room is warm, and something delicious-smelling in a covered pan is simmering on the stove, and the space behind Steve is invitingly empty, just waiting for Eddie to sidle up into it.

Eddie feels so, so spoiled.

Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie slides in behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, but Eddie isn’t really surprised anymore; it seems like Steve can always tell when someone is there.

He does glance over his shoulder, though, just long enough for Eddie to see the smile on his face before he turns back to the dishes. “Hi.”

Eddie’s pretty sure the smile on his own face is softer and infinitely more besotted. “Hi.”

“Good day at work?” Steve asks.

Eddie hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s shoulder. “You brought me lunch.”

“I’m glad Kyle actually gave it to you,” Steve says. “Wasn’t sure someone else wouldn’t eat it.”

“I got it,” Eddie says, as if there was any doubt with the way he’s still smiling in between trailing little kisses up Steve’s neck.

Steve shuts the water off and dries his hands on the towel hanging off the cupboard door before turning in Eddie’s arms to give him a proper kiss. “It was good?”

Eddie hums again. “You brought me lunch.”

“We’ve established that, yeah,” Steve laughs, allowing Eddie another kiss as he grins.

“You made me lunch,” Eddie says, pecking another kiss to Steve’s lips, still smiling like an idiot. “And you drove it up to the store for me.”

Steve shrugs, a little coy. “It’s my day off. I had time to kill.”

“Kyle says that makes you more than sorta my girlfriend,” Eddie replies, as if that will make any sense at all to Steve.

Whether it makes sense or not, it does make him laugh, and Eddie peppers kisses all over his face while he does.

“So it was good?” Steve asks again, when he’s caught his breath.

“You made me lunch and then you drove it over to me,” Eddie stresses. “It could’ve tasted like ass, and it still would’ve been the best thing ever.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but is more than obliging to the deep kiss Eddie pulls him into after that.

“But just so we’re clear,” Steve says when they break apart, “it didn’t taste like ass, right?”

“Oh my god, no,” Eddie finally relents. “It was literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I’m going to marry you so you can make that mac and cheese for me every day.”

“Every day, huh?” There’s a funny little smile climbing back over Steve’s face. “You sure you won’t get sick of it?”

“Nah,” Eddie replies confidently. “Never.”

They’re both smiling a little too much now to really kiss, but they make a good go of it anyway.

[Prompt: Smiling between kisses]

[raspberryconverse]

Spouse: Do you want to get Chinese food? Me: I guess. We still have one more Hello Fresh meal. Spouse: What is it? Me: Some sort of pork chops. Spouse: Yeah, I don't want that. Me: Ok then. Sure.

*waits for them to start the order*

Spouse: So we're not getting Chinese? Me: 🤦‍♀️ I never said I didn't want to.

I know when you have autism, everything is black and white, so if I'm not super enthusiastic about something, they're like, "You hate it," or assume my answer is no , even though I literally just said, "Sure."

[heich0e]

rintarou's sheets are scratchy.

they're new, and haven't yet gone through the wash enough times to properly soften. they haven't been slept on enough times to be fully broken in. you know he bought them because you always used to tease him about his old sheets: faded with some holes in them—a mismatched fitted sheet and top sheet in two different shades of blue, unbefitting of a grown man making grown man money.

so, he got new ones.

these new sheets are green, in the exact shade you like so much—the one you always point out when the two of you are walking in the park near your office on your lunch break. he sent you a picture of the package when he got them home, fishing for praise you refused to give him for doing the bare minimum. they're nice sheets, though. expensive, organic cotton with a high thread count.

but right now, they're scratchy.

and they're irritating you as you lay tangled up in them, the top sheet wrapped around your waist like a belt and twisted around one of your bare legs. you must have been tossing and turning a lot in your sleep, because when you properly rouse from your slumber to take inventory of your surroundings, the first thing you notice is that you're practically knotted into the stiff, new cotton.

you extract yourself from the blankets, stumbling a little towards the door in a fog, and make your way from rintarou's bedroom in the direction of the kitchen.

"oh," rintarou perks up once you appear around the corner, his eyes bright when they spot you. "you're up."

you shuffle around the kitchen counter towards him, your head heavy and pounding, your mouth dry. you feel nauseated, and without thinking, you slump against him with your forehead pressing into the valley between his shoulder blades. you're confused. you're hungover. but he's warm, and smells like laundry detergent. suddenly you feel a little less queasy.

"what's going on?" you grumble into his back. you peel yourself away from him, blinking slowly, and sweep your gaze around the room to get a better sense of things.

suna holds up a frying pan and a whisk. "i'm cooking!"

you blink again. "okay?"

it's not what you meant when you asked him your first question, but rintarou simply smiles. he has an almost puppy-like personality when he gets like this—you can almost picture ears atop his head and a tail wagging happily as he stares down at you.

"how'd i get here last night?"

rintarou freezes, but only for a moment. he quickly turns his back to you again to continue on whatever misguided culinary adventure he'd been attempting before you woke up. "you were pretty drunk."

"my seniors kept egging me on," you complain, rubbing your forehead as the hazy memory surfaces from the night before. it was a company dinner you couldn't get out of, and it had quickly spiralled out of hand. "i don't even remember leaving."

rintarou laughs a little. but he still won't look at you.

"suna."

he doesn't turn, whisking something you can't identify but that you're almost certain should not be whisked in a bowl in front of him on the counter.

"suna." you repeat yourself again.

suddenly, a wave of nausea overtakes you.

no.

no.

you pat yourself down in search of your phone, but the attempt is useless. you're dressed in one of rintarou's t-shirts and boxers, neither of which come equipped with any pockets, and your phone is nowhere to be found. you whip your head around in search of it, but don't spot it anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

"hey—" rintarou finally looks at you when he senses your alarm, and his tone mirrors your own panic. "don't—!"

you swipe his cellphone off the counter in front of him, using the passcode you'd managed to weasel out of him a few months ago to unlock the device and navigate to his call log. you take off running as you tap your way through the various screens on his phone, but he's quickly in pursuit of you—leaving whatever he'd had on the stove to burn like he world's saddest funeral pyre.

"stop, stop!" rintarou is faster than you are, and has longer legs, but even by the time he catches you, you've already found what you're looking for in his call history. he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his sofa with him in the living room, and the two of you land in a tangle of limbs against the cushions, your breathing laboured.

"i didn't make this call, did i?" you ask meekly, pointing at a brief call in the late hours of the night prior that sits at the top of his call history. it's from your number, but you're confident you hadn't been the one to dial.

rintarou pouts a little bit, avoiding your eyes. after a moment he shakes his head. you groan, rolling over on the sofa underneath him and hiding your face in your hands.

"i wasn't even there long, i promise," rintarou says, his voice impossibly close because of the way the two of you are sprawled across the sofa. his breath is warm against the column of your throat when he speaks.

you refuse to look at him.

"i didn't even say anything embarassing."

you still don't budge.

"i made sure to thank your coworkers for calling me to come get you and everything."

your hangover has been overtaken by your own mortification, a horrible heat creeping up your face to accompany the taste of bile in your throat. you've been so, so careful not to let your relationship and your career overlap thus far. so cautious about introducing rintarou into parts of your life that would make it even harder to face if or when the time came that he wasn't around anymore.

"are you embarrassed of me?"

his question makes your chest ache. the way he says it twists the knife.

you lift your face from your hands and peek at him over your shoulder. he's so close that your noses almost brush.

"no." you mean it.

the anxiety in rintarou's gaze eases. he presses closer.

"you sure?"

you narrow your eyes at him. "depends. were you wearing that awful yellow track suit?"

rintarou laughs, all breath, and then dips down to kiss you softly. you want to complain that you haven't even brushed your teeth yet, or that you kind of feel like you might be sick, or that whatever he was trying to cook is on the brink of burning down the building. but you don't. you just let him rest on top of you. you let yourself enjoy it.

when he finally pulls away, rintarou has a somewhat sly smile on his face.

"what, rin?" you ask him gently.

"just wondering if now that i've met your coworkers you're going to let me come visit you at lunch, or if you're still gonna make me hide in the park."

"i like the park," you pout.

because the park is green, the colour you like so much. like rintarou's scratchy bedsheets. and his eyes.

"okay, okay," he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. "i like the park, too."

[bunnys-kisses]

Hello,

If you're still taking orders, would it be alright if I ordered profiteroles with a side of champagne with max verstappen please.

bakery menu

want to order something? find the menu above to see all of our delicious treats! remember to specify who you want to bring you your order! as for this one, i am biting my first. i am biting my fist a sugar daddy max verstappen who is painfully desperate. big ol' simp.

profiteroles: ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, needy!max, missionary,

the money was nice. you saw how that watch of his gleamed in the sunlight when you two were on his boat. it was nice to see your debt trickle away until it hit zero. it was all nice, the kind of money you'd sell your morals for. you'd even take it out of his hand with your mouth like a dog if it meant keeping every last scent.

the one thing you didn't except, was a needy sugar daddy.

you were in max's penthouse, cooking breakfast while the driver kept around you like a shadow.

"scrambled or fried there, mon ombre." you said as you looked to him. you smiled softly, "i can't guarantee that they'll come out fried."

he pulled away from the wall of the kitchen and settled his hands on your hips. his nose in your hair behind your ear, "i know you can do well. i know you're a good girl."

you chuckled, "right right." you leaned over and cracked two eggs in the pan and had max following you closely as you put the shells in the garbage. then followed you back to the stove, his arms remained a fixture around your waist.

max liked to be around you. he once said it was like flowers in the sun. he curled around you as you cooked. the agreement was that you were his live-in girlfriend while he was in monaco, when he went away for races you could either stay at his penthouse or go back to your apartment (which also paid for).

while he was away, he made sure that you still got your "allowance", it basically was on auto-pay. you thought it was a big of an ego stroke that he paid you right before a race. as he was about to get into that car and drive his heart out.

but when you got the notification, you smiled a little bit. as if you weren't watching the race on a (illegal) live stream.

you didn't think much about competitive driving when you started. you knew of formula one, but nothing of this new generation of drivers and drama. you had seen a few faces plastered on adverts, but couldn't really place a name to them. so when you met max through a "friend", you had a whole world to learn about.

his eggs came out scrambled, but he happily ate them with a slice of toast. it was the only way he'd part from you. he gazed at you from across the table, his foot rubbed against your ankle.

his desire for closeness was sated. he washed the dishes for the both of you, leaving them in the dish rack to dry before he was on you once more.

max paid handsomely for you. you just wanted enough to survive, but he always pushed your pay more. he never told you how much he made in a year, but a quick google search answered your question.

after breakfast, he got you into the bedroom. his hands around your middle once more. his lips on the back of your neck, when you got close enough to the bed, he pulled the bottom of your shirt up your back and over your head.

you turned to him and gazed at him as he pulled you in for a searing kiss. he tasted like ketchup and butter as he got your bra off of you. you felt a thump in your chest when he got his shirt off. his toned body always looked so nice

"you have tanlines." you remarked as you ran a finger down his arm, seeing how it went from darker to lighter, "maybe red bull should put you in a tank tops to even it out." you chuckled.

he raised his eyebrows, "maybe you should wear one, red bull across those pretty tits." he cupped them and rubbed your nipples with his thumbs.

you held onto his biceps and remarked, "maybe your little logo, i think it would nicer." then winked at him. you were moved to the bed and max quickly got the rest of your clothes off and onto the floor.

it was followed by his basketball shorts and briefs. he got into bed with you and pressed you under his body. he kissed at your face with such devotion. he loved the feeling of you under him.

"you're so good for me." he said, "you always listen. so pretty for me. always making sure that i'm taken care of. do i do the same for you?"

you cupped his face and chuckled, "max. of course you do." when got put on your back and your legs around him. you eyed the sight of his erect cock, it made your stomach flip.

"more than just money?" he asked.

you replied, "max, of course." you reached up and touched his face, "i'm surprised that we aren't already dating."

his heart flipped and his cock twitched. he said, "well." then swallowed, "you know how busy i am with racing." his hands trailed down your soft sides, "it wouldn't be fair to you. honestly."

you chuckled, "don't worry, max. i know. don't worry. you're already enough." then leaned up to kiss him before he settled one hand on your hip and the other on his cock.

"too good for me." he said under a low breath before he rubbed his cock up against your sweet pussy. he slowly sank in and then placed both hands on your hips. he grit his teeth as he pushed into you.

you wrapped your legs around him and felt his cock nudge against the deepest parts of you. he curved over you to kiss you on the lips as he thrust further into you. you held onto his shoulders and let him try to get as deep as he could inside of you.

"max."

"yes?"

"why do you spoil me?" you asked as he moved against you. you clung to his shoulders tightly, nails dug into his broad shoulders. you felt the sweat down your neck.

"because when i look at you." he said between heavy breaths, "everything feels alright. even if i lose, to know that i get to come back to you. to be spoiled as i spoil you." he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

you clawed down his back as you felt your core throb. you whined between heavy thrusts. you felt so protected by him. he kissed down your neck as he continued to thrust.

"don't make me blush, max." you said softly.

"why? you look so good when you do. especially when you try to hide from me, treasure." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips once more.

he continued to thrust up against you. you held onto him tightly, your nails left angry tracks across his backside. his pace became more brutal the more that he thrusted into you. you could feel him deep inside of you, it felt so good.

it made your gut pool into a heap of warmth as he continued to move against you. you whimpered and whined, you felt your heartbeat deep in your chest.

you kissed his cheek some more and down his jaw, you felt the sweat pin prick your back as you clung to him. you even gave his jaw a small kitten lick which made him groan.

"such a pretty girl. perfect for me." he said, "i can't believe that you let me into your life."

you chuckled, feeling more heat in your cheeks, "what life, i was in university for a dumb degree with no job prospects."

he said, "no, it wasn't stupid."

you chuckled and clung to him, "see, you spoil me." then panted heavily against your sugar daddy.

"come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go." he panted between heavy thrusts. he wanted to be close to you all the time, he wanted to feel you close to him. he wanted to say something else, but didn't want to ruin the moment.

he could only give you a time away, somewhere, anywhere, you'd be with him.

he wanted to bask in your rays for days on end. he wanted some peace with his beautiful girl.

you moaned, "of course. please! ah, i need to cum." you dug your nails further into his shoulders as he thrusted up into you.

"good, good." he panted, "so good for me, letting me have all your attention." he held onto you tighter as he pushed his cock as deep as he could possibly go. he wanted to enjoy every inch of you, inside and out.

you tightened your hold on him and panted heavily. a few more heavy thrusts and he finished inside of you. he grit his teeth and felt the heat down his back. you came soon after as he continued to fuck you, the two of you holding on to one another.

he slowed down and held you for a moment. those strong arms around you, he felt like a sense of safety. you laid there, heavily panting. he pressed kisses to your face.

"i'm a lucky man." hie said, his voice low but gentle. he kissed the top of your head before he got off of you and laid next to you under the thin white sheet.

you felt like home to max. but cat got his tongue whenever he tried to ask you out on a proper date. to be more than just someone to pay to be a pretend girlfriend.

he wanted you in ways that made his heart thump in his chest. you kept him alive, you eternal sun.

-

the next morning you laid next to him in bed. his strong arm over your middle as he kissed at your jaw. in a few days he'd be in some other country, doing some other race.

so he'd have to be clingy from a distance. and that was the hardest part. he shift next to you and sighed contently. he said to you, "my offer still stands. when i come home, let's go away somewhere."

you looked at him, "i'd love to. anywhere with you, max. you take me wherever and i'll go."

he kissed your cheek and said, "good, i'll give you the whole world."

[munsster]

Hi I just read fixer user and I loved it! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 💖💖

an act of true love

A/N: (your pfp made me scream and curl my toes) an unexpected amount of ppl rlly enjoyed this dynamic. i suppose i have found my people 🤭 (gif creds: @kingofscoops)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: In the dead of winter, there’s absolutely nothing that could keep you warm. After all, only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), mention of toxic ex boyfriend, cursing, gross flirting

Steve can hear you shivering through the receiver and your stuttered breaths crackling through the cord. You’re begging him to come over and fix your radiator in the middle of a snow storm. The roads aren’t closed yet, but a thin white powder blankets his front lawn and the top of his beemer and he can see the flakes whipping through the stream of light pouring from the streetlamp. So, he piles every blanket he has into his passenger seat and braves the drive to your house.

Does he know how to repair a busted radiator? No.

Is he determined to do anything you require of him? Every single day for the rest of his life.

He’s crouched by the window of your living room, looking for any telltale signs of wear or leaking. You’re standing just behind him, bundled in two blankets and holding a spare flashlight. He’s quiet as he tinkers, but your mind is racing watching his soft toned arms through his cream thermal and his back muscles working when he turns over his shoulder to glance at you with a dashing smile. You nod quickly when he says something, though you’re not exactly sure what.

“Sweetheart?” he coos, raising his brows when you recoil under his gaze.

“Sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t listening,” you say with a chuckle. He grins, dropping his head in understanding.

“Sorry, I know it’s boring,” he says, “but has it been making noises or anything?”

“Oh, yeah! It kinda groans when I first turn it on and it sounds like it might explode for the first couple minutes. I guess I’ve tuned it out by now.”

“That’s probably not a good sound then,” he teases, turning back to the radiator with a puzzled look.

“No, probably not.” You shuffle off to the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove and humming softly.

After half an hour of tinkering and a roll of tape, Steve stands and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“That should do it! It’ll probably take a sec to heat up again,” he sighs, and you emerge from the kitchen, balancing two hefty mugs brimming with whipped cream. “Ooh, what’s this?”

“Hot cocoa. Secret family recipe,” you tease. In actuality, it’s just the standard package of chocolate powder and sugar. The secret lies in the healthy dash of cinnamon you mix into it.

“Secret, eh? Guess that gives me a reason to come see you more often,” he hums, following you to the couch and taking one of the mugs from your hands. It warms him up nicely, and he knows you gave him the bigger mug on purpose when you smile triumphantly. He takes a sip, moaning at the sweetness. You giggle at the whipped cream kissing his top lip.

“I hope I’m reason enough,” you say with a faux pout. He sits close enough to share the pile of blankets with you, your thighs pressed against one another in the captured heat.

“Duh, you’re the main attraction,” he huffs, “Your hot chocolate is like the flashy side show. It’s pretty neat but not quite as cool as the reason you bought the ticket.”

You giggle into your mug, face hot in the bellowing steam. Or because of his dimpled cheeks. Or the way his eyes swoop over your face. Or maybe the way he came rushing to your rescue in a storm without a second thought.

“Any new Brad-related developments? Or is he still giving you shit?” he says, swallowing a warm gulp of liquid chocolate.

You groan, head lulling back against the couch. “He keeps calling to say I’m a cold hearted bitch and then immediately hang up. I think he forgot that he’s the one who broke up with me.”

“Right, right. Why’s that again?”

“Something about his family’s values. And how he hates my friends,” you say, “I just remember getting mad because he seemed so jealous and mistrusting. Honestly, in hindsight, he was really childish about the whole thing.”

You shrug it off, but it snaps his heart in two all over again. He doesn’t even want to know the gorey details because he knows it’ll boil his blood. Just knowing that asshole said something like that to you makes his fists ball up in frustration. But he thinks of what you said. What did Brad have to be jealous about; he had the entire world and Steve never bat an eye. Not to you, at least.

“Jealous?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, he’d give me all these ultimatums where I’d have to choose between you and him. So random,” you huff. Though, maybe he was justified in some way. You and Steve have been this close since the day you met. Any love interest would feel threatened by his charm and that smile.

“Oh… weird”—He watches you take a cautious sip from your mug like maybe you regret saying anything at all—“Yeah. That’s random. Had no idea I posed such a threat to that guy. He seemed so… self-assured.”

You stare blankly, shrugging when you mutter, “you can call him a narcissistic prick, i don't care. And yeah, I was kinda surprised the first time he brought it up, because a big part of why I was attracted to him was for his confidence” you chuckle, “No idea what went wrong!

Steve absentmindedly squares his shoulders, sitting up straught on the plush cushions trying to make himself look strong and reliable and confident. You sip your hot chocolate and look at him funny.

“Are you okay?” you say, holding in a laugh.

He nods. “Oh, yeah. I’m just super confident ‘s all.”

You snort, choking on the sip you’d sucked down, pinching your eyes closed when he lurches forward with a worried look slapped across his face.

“Shit, here, let me help,” he huffs, setting his mug aside and wiping the drips from your chin with his sleeve, “Oh, god, are you hurt???”

You cackle with tears pricking in your eyes when he carefully takes your mug and places it next to his. You pat dry your neck, and he watches you softly.

“Stevie, you’re so sweet.”

His heart flutters in his warm chest when you smile at him.

“Well, I dunno about that.”

“No, seriously. You’re so caring and thoughtful, I’ve never met anyone like you,” you whisper.

He takes a shaky breath in.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You nod heartily and grin wide, and you notice he’s staring at you. So you kick his calf under the blanket.

“Hey, ouch!”

You giggle, but he’s quick to grab the crook of your knee and tug you close so you’re laying flat on the couch. Your hands cover your face when he tickles your sides and leans over you playfully. He’s almost glad you can’t see him blushing or feel his heart racing or hear his head booming with thoughts of you. He gasps when you plant your socked foot on his thigh, but he holds your elbow gently to keep you close to him while he leans over you.

You’re laughing, and he can confidently say it’s his favorite sound. You palm his chest, and he takes a deep breath in. Your eyes flick open because you’ve never felt someones heart beat so fast and so warm just beneath your fingertips. He’s flushed and pink but he looks like a prince in the orange lamplight. And he’s so close to you.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Steve huffs, standing and backing away, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I should go!”

He crosses the floor in a daze, forcing his feet back into his shoes before you even can sit up and call after him.

“Steve, wait!”

But he’s shaking his head and reaching for the ice cold door handle with his jacket barely slung over his shoulders. He whips the door open, and you can see the pure white snow floating down in sheets outside.

“Keep the blankets! Just call me if the radiator breaks again, and I’ll see you!”

The door slams shut.

You tut, hand coming to your lips as you look around at the scene before you. The abandoned mugs on the coffee table, his blankets folded over the back of the couch, your repaired radiator whirring softly in the corner. The absence of Steve. What would the kids say. You know they’d lose it, but would they be upset if you ended up together. Would they realize they changed their minds and you’d jeopardized not only your friendship with Steve but with the entire party.

What if everything changes?

Oh, but what if nothing changes: you and Steve tip toeing around each other, the kids scheming and giggling at your misfortune, but now changed by the fact that you’ve kissed Steve. And he kissed you back. And you like him so much.

"Oh, god.”

more like this

masterlist

[tinycoffeeroom]

yes chef! | daniel ricciardo

face claim: laura harrier ♡

request: here !

pairing: daniel ricciardo x black!chef!reader

requested: hello ml !! 🫶 I stumbled upon one of your F1 smau’s and the way I swallowed your blog whole right after, I loved it all !!😭 I’d love to request a smau with Daniel Ricciardo x fem!chefreader, like maybe her studying to become a chef, or right up to her exams and graduation? It’s all good if you don’t wan’t to, have a wonderful week either way🫶 - 🍊🫒

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📍 Marriott Hotels

👤 cheflingy/n liked by cheflingy/n, maxverstappen1 and 1,827,050 others

danielricciardo one last night away before exam season for my little chefling x

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cheflingy/n thank you for taking me away my love ❤️ gonna miss seeing your stupid face 24/7 😭 ↳ danielricciardo gonna miss your stupid face too... after exams you're coming to every race with me no exceptions! ↳ cheflingy/n sure thing handsome x

fan it's not a danny ric post if he doesn't rub it in our faces that he's dating y/n and we're not ↳ fan ikr like can you share with the group please ↳ danielricciardo i don't share my food ↳ fan we were talking about y/n ↳ danielricciardo so was i ↳ cheflingy/n down boy!

fan y/n what do you rate the hotel pasta out of 10? ↳ cheflingy/n hmmm a 6? the sauce was nice but was lacking a little in the taste department... if we were at home i'd have added some chili flakes which would have bumped it to a 7! ↳ fan the hotel should be honoured to receive a 6 from chef y/n ↳ cheflingy/n chefling! not passed my exams yet!!

fan y/ns so pretty im gonna scream ♥️ danielricciardo

fan will we be getting a y/n recreates?? ↳ cheflingy/n yeppers! will work on it when i get home 🩷 ↳ fan thank u queen x

francisca.c.gomes barking at the top of my lungs ↳ cheflingy/n come give me a kiss xxx ↳ francisca.c.gomes running as fast as i can!!! ↳ danielricciardo pierregasly we should kiss too ↳ pierregasly come here big boy

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👤 danielricciardo liked by bffstagram, danielricciardo and 609,817 others

cheflingy/n y/n recreates part 15! we visited the Marriott in New York and had their spaghetti alla vodka! you might have seen in danny's comments that i rated it a 6/10 due to the little flavour in the sauce but with a few chili flakes and a little balsamic vinegar, we have a strong 9/10 on our hands! link in my bio ❤️

also swipe for my favourite 10/10 meal x

danielricciardo omg stop objectifying me 🙄 ↳ cheflingy/n you literally called me food in your last post ↳ danielricciardo ... you got me there

fan y/n being the queen of the thattoo agenda ↳ cheflingy/n i rule that shit with an iron fist ↳ fan knowing y/n gets to see the thattoos in all their glory 😔 vs knowing she'll share with the group 😀

fan y/n recreates is back!!!! looks yummy, wish apple would create a way to smell through a screen ↳ cheflingy/n it was very good!! the recipe is in the description of my youtube, you should make it with me!! ↳ fan i will do it purely bc you suggested it 💞

lilymhe can i have some too 🥺 ↳ cheflingy/n ofc lils!! i'll make you some special pasta for the next gp x ↳ lilymhe i'm in love with you

maxverstappen1 funnily enough the 3rd slide is also my favourite meal ↳ cheflingy/n you take the outside i'll take the inside ↳ maxverstappen1 divide and conquer, i like your thinking 🫡 ↳ danielricciardo it's like i'm just a piece of meat to them

fan i live for the fact y/n joins in with maxiel ↳ fan essentially a throuple at this point ↳ cheflingy/n i would rather eat my own toes than enter a throuple with max and daniel ↳ maxverstappen1 rude? ↳ cheflingy/n mf you BURNT a salad, idek how you managed that... at least danny can cook a mean steak ↳ maxverstappen1 it was too close to the stove :(((( ↳ fan im sorry he burnt a salad???? new max lore unlocked

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danielricciardo uploaded to their story

replies:

maxverstappen1 i am outside your door ↳ danielricciardo ominous? ↳ maxverstappen1 open up i want a y/n apple turnover ↳ danielricciardo sorry cant hear you over the sound of me chowing down ↳ maxverstappen1 i know how to pick locks. ↳ danielricciardo ... who taught you that? ↳ maxverstappen1 y/n :) ↳ danielricciardo she never showed me how to pick locks :( ↳ maxverstappen1 pretty privilege, sorry you wouldn't understand ↳ danielricciardo im gonna spit on your turnover ↳ maxverstappen1 kinky x

fan share with the group please ↳ danielricciardo nope!

cheflingy/n i'm glad you liked them handsome x ↳ danielricciardo when does your class end so i can give you a fat kiss? ↳ cheflingy/n i'll be home in an hour x ↳ danielricciardo yippee!! x

fan honey b 😭 she even made a cute nickname out of that whack ass nickname ↳ danielricciardo WHACK ASS??? now that's crazy, give me a reason why i shouldn't block you ↳ fan i bought enchanté merch ↳ danielricciardo you're safe for now.

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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 798,014 others

cheflingy/n pastry week got me feeling like... can't wait for final exams next week so y'all can start calling me chef y/n for real

danielricciardo sneak one home pls xx ↳ cheflingy/n already put one in a container x ↳ danielricciardo no one snitch on me to my trainer

landonorris does that mean we have to say yes chef to anything you say? ↳ cheflingy/n yes x ↳ landonorris ok slay ↳ cheflingy/n that gave me the ick a lil bit ↳ fan same ↳ fan same ↳ danielricciardo same ↳ oscarpiastri same ↳ landonorris ?? disrespect???

fan y/n what dessert is that it looks yummers! ↳ cheflingy/n is just a really fancy carrot cake!! will post the recipe when im home 🩷 ↳ fan i love you.

kellypiquet p would like some carrot cake too! (and her mum) ↳ cheflingy/n tell p we can have a baking session soon! miss her little face x ↳ kellypiquet and me? ↳ cheflingy/n i miss your little face too x

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chefling y/n has uploaded a new video

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👤 danielricciardo liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 907,286 others

cheflingy/n doints in the bank so my man gets a steak xx

danielricciardo im her man 🥰🥰 ↳ cheflingy/n damn right you are!

maxverstappen1 i won the race, where's my steak? ↳ cheflingy/n kellypiquet ↳ maxverstappen1 stole my man, won't even cook me steak... what's the point of being world champ if i don't get SHIT ↳ kellypiquet big baby, she texted to say she'd bring some over when they're back from the cabin ↳ maxverstappen1 yippee!!!

fan steak, chicken AND lamb??? oh she's in LOVE love ↳ cheflingy/n he deserves it x

oscarpiastri can i get some steak too? 🥺 ↳ cheflingy/n ofc ofc!! i'll bring some to the next race 🧡 ↳ landonorris me too! ↳ cheflingy/n you can have whatever oscar leaves. ↳ landonorris what the fuck

fan ratings? ↳ danielricciardo 11/10 she never misses ↳ fan wish that was me...

fan did you get chance to watch the race??!! ↳ cheflingy/n i may have skipped a practice session to go on sunday... ↳ fan you're the reason we have doints we love you ↳ cheflingy/n it was all down to danny's driving i promise!! i just sit there and look pretty!! ↳ danielricciardo the prettiest x

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👤 bffstagram liked by bffstagram, danielricciardo and 992,716 others

cheflingy/n who up ratting their touille rn??!!

bffstagram MEMEMEMEME!!!!! ↳ cheflingy/n how's that fourth red bull treating you? ↳ bffstagram i can see sounds.

fan she's just like me fr: losing her mind during final exams ↳ cheflingy/n now who said i'm losing my mind... ↳ cheflingy/n you would be right tho my eyeballs ache from being open for so long

mercedesmgf1 we can send you some lewis hamilton monster to help you stay awake 🩵 ↳ danielricciardo this is a red bull house ONLY ↳ redbullracing iktr! y/nnie we have a special care package coming your way soon 💙 ↳ cheflingy/n i love you red bull

lilynzeimer what happens if we're not ratting our touille? ↳ cheflingy/n you gotta step your game up!

landonorris the girl in the second pic is cute, she got an @ ? ↳ cheflingy/n you stay away from her she's a good girl. ↳ landonorris c'mon, you know i'm a nice guy ↳ bffstagram unfortunately for you, i'm allergic to papaya :) ↳ bffstagram i am however, a big fan of chilis x ↳ carlossainz55 good to know 🤨 ↳ cheflingy/n get your flirting OUT of my comments

fan you got this y/n!! can't wait to call you chef y/n properly!!! 💘💖💗💞💕💗💞💝💖💓💕 ↳ cheflingy/n thank u i love u 🥺🩷

fan when's the last exam miss chefling?? ↳ cheflingy/n tomorrow!! luckily we get our results in a week so i wont be climbing the walls for too long!! ↳ fan good luck!!! you're gonna smash it!! 💘💘 ♥️ cheflingy/n

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chefling y/n has uploaded a new video

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👤 chefy/n liked by vcarb, chefly/n and 1,728,915 others

danielricciardo after 4 long years, my girls finally a graduate ❤️ chef y/n i love you and i'm so bloody proud of you x

See 104,817 other comments

chefy/n danny 🥹 thank you for the flowers and the cake and for just being there with me, i love you so so much ❤️ ↳ danielricciardo i love you more my sexy gordon ramsey

vcarb congratulations y/n!!! we may have an opening in red bull hospitality for you 😉 ↳ chefly/n love y'all but i am very happy just following dan around the paddock on race days 🤣

maxverstappen1 simp ↳ maxverstappen1 also congrats y/n! now about that meal you mentioned last week... ↳ chefy/n man can i enjoy my post grad vacay first damn 😭

alexandrasaintmleux chef y/n we love you 💜 ↳ chefy/n i love you alex 💛 ↳ charles_leclerc don't suppose you fancy sharing some of that cake? ↳ chefy/n come over, doors unlocked! (bring alex too) ↳ charles_leclerc you just want to see my girlfriend... ↳ chefy/n correct captain obvious

fan she changed her @ !! chef y/n welcome we love you!!! ↳ chefy/n i love you too!!!

bffstagram that's my favourite chef right there!! ↳ chefy/n thank you chef x ↳ bffstagram you're welcome chef x

landonorris let's go chef y/n!! you should celebrate by bringing me and osc those banging pastries in your last vid ↳ chefy/n if you run over here in time, there may be some left 🤫 ↳ oscarpiastri you should have seen his little legs it was giving scooby doo ↳ chefy/n giving? we need to get you away from that man ↳ oscarpiastri please...

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📍 Spain

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 893,017 others

chefy/n week away with my love ❤️ spain was so so gorgeous i couldn't resist picking up a camera and documenting danny trying to make paella, coming to youtube tomorrow x

danielricciardo i think i did a banging job ↳ chefy/n sure you did babe x

maxverstappen1 where was my invite? ↳ fan breaking up the throuple fr 😔 ↳ chefy/n you have your own plane you could have flown over ↳ maxverstappen1 WAIT that was an option? ↳ chefy/n no x ↳ maxverstappen1 that's just cruel...

fan are we getting a y/n recreates of dannys paella?? ↳ chefy/n is that something you would want?? ↳ fan YES ↳ fan YESYEYSYESYEYS PLEASE ↳ fan it's a need not a want y/n please!!!! ↳ chefy/n i hear y'all, i'll get started soon x

kellypiquet gorgeous girl x ↳ chefy/n love you kels x

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chef y/n uploaded a new video

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👤 enchante, chefy/n liked by chefy/n, enchante and 1,938,724 others

danielricciardo welcome to the Enchanté cafe. All meals provided by our resident chef 😉

See 934,018 others

fan STOP y/n making the food for the promo videos 🥺 i love them

fan and WHY were there no videos of y/n cooking? ↳ danielricciardo she didn't wanna steal my limelight ↳ chefy/n i'll be uploading a bts vid to my youtube tomorrow, you'll see me there 😉

chefy/n that food looks super yummy! ↳ danielricciardo yeah i heard the chef graduated top of her class ↳ chefy/n damn she must be good then ↳ danielricciardo the absolute best x

enchante the resident chef is never allowed to leave ↳ chefy/n i would never want to ❤️

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a/n: my first emoji anon! hi! and welcome danny ric to tinycoffeeroom! i hope you enjoy and that i did your request justice! <3 also psa i looooveeee the honey badger nickname pls dont kill me 😭

taglist: @golden-hoax