#oh sweet ross

[kate-the1975]

I just wrote the most depressing Ross oneshot to cope with my grief, and it contains 3,091 WORDS!?

My brains fucked ngl

[abiiors]

PLEASE PUT THAT ARM AROUND MY THROAT AND CHOKE ME THANK YOU

cr: @/rolemodel on stories

[hihijayne]

If ryan were to drop a tell all book I would gladly purchase one and that's all I have to say lmao

[shitty-check-please-aus]

I feel like I have to be googling incorrectly, because I can't believe that none of the "we covered a modern song in an older style" musical groups have covered "Someone New" by Hozier in the style of The Supremes or maybe The Temptations. My own personal mandela effect was that I was convinced that song was a cover of (or at least sampling the chorus of) a 60s/70s Motown era song and I refuse to believe that I'm the only one who hears the similarities

[domjaehyun]

under the influence (l.dh)

PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.6k WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon (she’s timid but very much likes the attention), pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ hii i hope you enjoy! any and all positive feedback is greatly appreciated, so send me an ask if you liked it or let me know in the tags pretty please :) 

As you press the button to call the elevator, you start to get the jitters. They start in your fingertips and travel up your arms to the back of your neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end, and you shudder slightly, shaking your head in an attempt to do away with the sensation.

The doors open with a ding, and you jump at the sound, making Yeri look over at you in alarm.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worries, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly and vigorously to be convincing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say with a frown, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nothing!” you insist.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Karina reminds you, and your frown deepens. “But if you say so, I guess.” 

Relieved, you follow Yeri and Karina into the elevator and lean into the back corner of the shaft, resting your back against where the two walls meet. 

“We should watch a movie today,” Karina suggests excitedly, and she and Yeri fall into a discussion that you would join if you weren’t busy thinking about Haechan and whatever stunts he’s going to pull today. 

It takes three calls of your name from Karina and a vigorous shake from Yeri to snap you out of it, and you look at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Girl, where do you keep going? Every time I look over at you, you’re in la-la land.” Yeri asks, concerned and amused.

“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” you mumble.

“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.

“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.

In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.

You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today. 

“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”

As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.

“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.

“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.

“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”

“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”

“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.

It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.

He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.

“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is. 

Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.

Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”

You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”

“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.

“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening. 

“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”

“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”

“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.

“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.

“...Right.” you echo, and he grins. 

“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.

“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.

“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.  

“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.

“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.

“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.

“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.

Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.

When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed. 

“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”

“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.

“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”

“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”

Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.

Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.

“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.

He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.

“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.

When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify. 

“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”

He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”

“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”

“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.

“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.

“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”

It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.

“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.

When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.

“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.

He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.

“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 

“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.

you [18:11pm] SOS

you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?

You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 

Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 

Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.

yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁

karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??

yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there

yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.

Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.

“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 

“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”

“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 

“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 

“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 

“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.

“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”

“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.

“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”

You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.

“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”

Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”

“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.

“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.

“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”

“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered. 

“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.

“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.

“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”

Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”

“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”

“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.

“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.

“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.

“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.

“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.

You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”

“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on. 

As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists. 

“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.

“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better. 

The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.

“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.

“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously. 

“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading. 

“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.

Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—

“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries. 

“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”

“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.

“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!” 

“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in. 

When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.

He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.

“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”

You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.

It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.

“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.

As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down. 

Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.

“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?” 

You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.

“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.

“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.

When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.

As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.

Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.” 

“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.” 

“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.

“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.

“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.

“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.

His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.

Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.

You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.

You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.  

“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”

“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.

Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.

“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.

“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.

Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.

Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.

“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”

“I know,” you mutter bitterly.

“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.

“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.

Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—

“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.

“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.

“And why do you ask that?”

You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine. 

“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”

“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.

“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.

“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”

“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”

“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.

“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”

“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.

“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.

“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. 

“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.

You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.

“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?

You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway. 

“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.

He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner. 

“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.

As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.

“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.

“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”

“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically. 

“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”

“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.

“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice. 

“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer. 

“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.

“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth. 

When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air. 

“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance. 

“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”

His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.

“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”

“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.

“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out. 

He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”

Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease. 

“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away. 

“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”

“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”

Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit. 

“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”

“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything. 

“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.

“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”

“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric. 

He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.

As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”

“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.

“Say my name, baby.”

“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.

He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support. 

Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck. 

You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.

His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.

“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”

Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. 

As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.

As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention. 

You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.

“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”

“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”

“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand. 

“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”

You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open. 

“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth. 

It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”

You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.

You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair. 

“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”

Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.

“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”

You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth. 

“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses. 

“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.

When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.

Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole. 

“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you. 

Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.

“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.

“Always so good��so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”

“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.

“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”

He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.

“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.

“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.

“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.

“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”

You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall. 

Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe. 

“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”

“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.

“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you. 

“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.

“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”

“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot. 

You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away. 

“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.

“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.

“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.” 

Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”

“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.

“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon. 

“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.

“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.

He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs. 

“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.

“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”

He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.

When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred. 

You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret. 

“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”

“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.

“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”

“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.

Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”

“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan. 

When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.

“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.

“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”

You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.

As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.

“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”

“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.

“So?”

“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”

“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.

“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”

“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.

“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”

“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.

“That can be arranged.” he murmurs, still smiling as his lips meet yours.

[entertaining-two]

They are much more like Chandler and Monica than anyone else like Ross and Rachel were barely friends before they started dating and were a mess. Where as chandler and Monica had true love in the form of friendship and that grew into love romantically.

I love Luke newton but every time he compares polin to Ross and Rachel, I want to scream at him to shut his beautiful mouth.

[viewerspookyhappenings]

okay buckle up chuckle fucks here is everything i remember from tonight (absolutely missing some stuff)

- before dan comes on he introduces himself over the speaker stating that he asked phil to do it and phil said no because he didn’t want to be sat behind a curtain for an hour

- dan comes on stage and stands in the big church plinth thing (iconic)

- he tells a story about how he went to a&e the day before yesterday because he had sore eyes. says phil was trying to get him to put eye drops in but he was being very dramatic so whilst on the phone to 111 phil knelt over him lying on the bathroom floor holding his eyes open to put drops in. dan then went to hospital to check it and everything’s fine (lol) he just needed some special eyedrops. phil did not accompany him and dan had to cross a dual carriageway on his own whilst not being able to see well (i doubt he will ever let it go)

- here is a diagram i drew on the way home to depict said event

- it is also giving this

- spoke about the butt chair. union chapel said they did not have any furniture for him to borrow so he had to bring his own - he bought the butt chair from his bedroom and a lil plant to decorate. said phil carried the plant to the car but made dan get the chair in the uber and then said “okay have fun at work sweetie” (this was said jokey but we died nonetheless)

- he then talks about pissyourselffordan trending and how he had to explain to harper collins what the actual fuck was happening on stan twt. apparently they were glad the fans were supportive and he has an engaged audience but they were not going to use the hashtag in the promo. called the whole scenario pissgate and the crowd chanted piss at him

- he was told there was wine and advertised wine before realising alcohol was not allowed in the church. he then got given a sprite and everyone screamed that it was piss

- talked about the book and the previous release, how weird covid was, talked about the photoshoot for the book cover and the graphic design. said he didn’t love the pics because they were super dramatic. someone shouted “it’s cunty” he replies: “oh it’s cunty is it?” then realises he said cunty in a church which was a big lol

- he then read the new chapters, several mentions of phil not being supportive and abandoning him at the hospital (he talked about phil a lot it was very sweet)

- then brought out dan’s slit (box used to put questions in before the show)

- the questions i can remember include but are not limited to:

- what was the weirdest position you wrote the book in: “cheeks out in an armchair curled up over my laptop, you might think your scrolling posture is okay now but when you hit thirty you will all be broken”

- fave comfort show: “the office - is the office a bit millennial? it isn’t as millennial as friends. ross being offended by a manny? that’s where my internalised homophobia is from”

- how has the gaming channel affected your mental health? A: he is finding it a lot more sustainable than before because of help with editing, but will see where it goes

- will he ever judge drag race: he didn’t want to when he was asked because he didn’t want to be exposed to more speculation about his sexuality at the time, same with strictly come dancing

- how do you cope with feeling lonely whilst surrounded by people: talked about how online friends are truly real friends and distance doesn’t have to determine friendship levels. says it is important to notice the friendships even that aren’t close

- i can’t remember the question but he said that phil has to remind him of some of the stuff that is in ywgttn when he struggles “i literally learnt the word catastrophising from your book dan come on”

- another tour? “do you guys want that” *screaming* “what would it be?” *dan and phil games screams* “well 👀👀”

- are we going to get more sister daniel: *everyone loses their minds* “maybe i should have done it for the church but it is far too exposing under the spotlight”

- did you work in the asda in Lower Earley: “what in the baby reindeer? yes i did”

- then went to the insta questions that were too inappropriate for the audiobook including

- piss

- will you wear wigs

- when will you wear wigs

- how long is your big toe “six centimetres - i don’t have a big toe im just a long person”

- pee pee poo poo time

- what were the other names for the book: “you will get through this was a bit cliche, you will get through this night? she is sexy and mysterious. at first we wanted to call it “you are messed up read this to fix your issues” but then realised the book was more serious in tone after it was finished so went with ywgttn instead”

- i genuinely can’t remember most of these i think i dissociated a lil at this point if anyone remembers please add

- then read the author’s note at the end of the paper back, talking about how lockdown impacted him and was a big scary thing and also how incredible it is to see people recommend it, find it useful, have therapists recommend it etc. “it is an honour to have created this”

- took a selfie with everyone

- someone gave him a bouquet of flowers and he said “aww you guys are so gay”

- then said “if you enjoyed seeing me in person… i’ll see you again very soon”

this is everything i remember off the top of my head so people please feel free to add what i have forgotten!!

and here are all the pics i got!!

[maraczeks]

friends s5 thread pt 1

[starboye]

pairing: dylan minette x male reader x ross lynch

request: what if yn works behind the scenes at coachella or a show like that where several singers perform, including ross lynch n dylan minnette, who end up fucking him that same day they meet him; before and after their perform. while ross is outside, dylan fucks him, ross comes back all sweaty and fucks yn while dylan sings on stage until he comes back sweaty too and they fuck him together (again)

warnings: smut, daddy kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, slight degrading, overstimulation

Working at Coachella wasn't the easiest job ever but the pay was good and seeing the singers come off the stage all hot and sweaty was definitely an added bonus especially when your two favorite boys Ross and Dylan were preforming there.

"Ross hi I'm a huge fan" you excitedly say as he walks past you before stopping in his tracks "well hey there sweet cheeks" he says holding out his large hand to shake yours and you eagerly shake his "I love your music so much" you say freaking out but keeping it together "how about we yo somewhere a little more quieter so we can talk" he says bringing you to his changing room and ordering everyone else out.

He closes the door behind you "can I get your autograph" you ask "I can give you something better" he says pulling you into a kiss, your inside quickly heating up as you melt into his kiss "yeah that's a lot better" you say hypnotized by him "now how about you get on that couch and bend over" ross orders smacking your ass "yes sir" you lowly say moving over to the couch.

You bend over and ross moves behind you before lowering your pants and underwear down to your knees and unbuttons his pants to let his cock out, you feel the heat radiating of his dick as it glides past your hole, he smears some lube he had hidden in the room on your hole and quickly thrusts in "shit" he huffs at the feeling as you moan.

He holds onto your hips and pounds into you relentlessly "Ross you in here" you hear Dylan knocks at the door before creaking it open "oh what do we ave here" dylan ask walking closer to the sight in front of him "desperate slut here is a big fan of mine so I decided to give him some of what he really wanted, isn't that right slut" he says smacking your ass harshly "yes ross" you whimper "that's mr lynch to you, now do you know who this fine gentleman is" he orders.

"yes mr lynch that's dylan minnette" you moan barely being able to make out his face but still recognizing him "good he's gonna keep you nice and stuffed while I go do my show okay" he says through grunts "really" you eagerly say "look at you already craving his dick" ross chuckles "fuckkk" he groans as he cums in you "use that as some lube" he huffs pulling out and zipping up his pants "will do" dylan says unzipping his pants and sliding into you "don't fuck him out dylan" ross warns sternly.

Dylan waves him away and admires how easily your hole sucks him up with ease "we're gonna fuck you so much" dylan grunts pulling you up, your back now firmly placed against his chest and his hand wrapped around your throat as you moan out "you like this dick" dylan asks "yes sir I love it" you whine with a hiccup "such a slut" he laughs as his hips pick up pace "mr minnette can I cum" you ask "I dont know can you" he smirks "please please" you whine longingly.

With those sweet moans how could he ever deny you with one more thrusts of his hips you both cum, your cum staining the leather couch and his cum now swooshing around in your hole simultaneously as Ross finishes his show and walks in all sweaty "how was it" Ross asks fist bumping Dylan "still so tight even after that fucking" Dylan says surprised "well I guess we'll have to change that" Ross chuckles before Dylan walks out to preform his part of the show.

"how did you like that slut" Ross asks pulling his pants down to let his now hard cock flop out and slide back into you "it was great mr lynch" you moan fucked out "don't pass out on me now baby boy you still have so much more work to do" Ross says pulling you up to his chest "you would wanna disappoint me now would you" he whispers in your ear "no sir" you whimper "good boy" he says thrusting into you roughly before pushing you into the couch and arching your back downwards.

"this pretty little hole was made for me" Ross says watching you turn into putty under his words and actions "thank you sir" you moan "wow your a real slut for this" he scoffs "we're gonna fill you up so much" he says before lifting you up and sitting on the couch and lowering you down onto him while facing the door as he continues to fuck you, you through your head back onto his shoulder and continue to moan "m-mr lynch" "yeah baby" "m'gonna cum" you moan "let it all out then" he growls in your ear making you spray your load all over your chest.

"fuck" you huff closing your eyes "nah keep those eyes open you still got one more task" Ross says as Dylan walks in "wow this room smells like so much sex" he laughs before noticing your hole and body on full display as Ross's dick slides in and out of you with ease "now let Dylan slide in too" Ross grunts out, you try and hide your face out of shame "no no don't be all embarrassed now you love this" Ross spits out pulling your hair back to show your face "please mr minnette I need it" you moan as tears drip down your face.

"don't have to ask me twice" Dylan says pulling his pants down and slowly but surely pushing his way into your stuffed hole but the cum making great lube "damn how is he still so tight" Dylan looks at you in disbelief before pounding into you hard as you blink in and out of consciousness "stay awake for us sugar" Ross huffs lightly slapping your face "yeah just a couple more seconds and we'll fill you up so good" Dylan says.

After a few more thrusts and grunts mixed with weak moans Dylan and Ross full you up with their cum once more before pulling out and watching their good work spill out you, Ross quickly finds a butt plug and stuffs it in you "you just got it all in here huh" Dylan asks "what can I say I've had my fair share of sluts here" he laughs is the last thing you hear before blacking out.

You wake up to find some water and snacks next to you with a note "call us sometime" it reads with their phone numbers on it, you sit up sore and barely remembering all the events that happened but still full.

[abiiors]

https://www.tumblr.com/abiiors/736135356791013376/omg-that-second-part-i-love-it-i-love-ross-ross-is

NO! i love YOU for writing for Ross!!! YOU AND ROSS ARE MY FAVORITES AND I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THAT YOU EXIST AND THAT YOU WRITE ON THIS APP. GOD YOUR WORK IS FENOMENAL ARE YOU ARE LIKE ?? THE BEST PERSON EVER, I’M ALWAYS ON YOUR BLOG UGH LOVE YA

ABOUT TO BURST INTO TEARS IN THE MIDDLE OF WORK GOODBYE 😭

[bbydoll18xx]

I Love You (It’s Ruining My Life)

‘I took the miracle move-on drug. The effects were temporary.’

Paige Bueckers x reader 

Themes: yearning, pining, fluff (all the good stuff)

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Nothing beats intense pining and yearning. And a Taylor song to accompany it?? Sign me up but for real my little crush on Paige is getting embarrassing im 23 years old for fucks sake

I'm working on a few requests still but if you have a good idea, send it my way!! Always looking for new ideas. Also I'm thinking about writing for Kate Martin if you guys would be interested...

------------------------------------------------

Your seemingly harmless crush on Paige Bueckers was starting to get a little out of hand. 

It started out simple enough. A friendship was forged from two girls entering college, desperate to prove themselves in their own way. And now here you are, unable to fall asleep without Paige’s clear blue eyes gazing back at you in the darkness of your closed lids. 

You were so fucking screwed.

Your feelings snuck up on you over time, slowly creeping over you until you were fully smothered and unable to breathe without Paige. Yet, at the same time, it was becoming more and more difficult to be around her. You were constantly at war between satisfying the love-sick pull you had towards her and wanting to keep your distance to protect yourself. 

It was becoming embarrassing. The girls of UCONN’s women's basketball team had begun to notice the way your cheeks would ablaze from an innocent stroke of your arm. And they certainly did not miss the way the presence of a tall blonde had you acting like a fucking fool. 

The only one who, to your relief, did not pick up on your bumbling mannerisms, was Paige. She had simply equated your idiosyncrasies to your personality. And that was something you were very thankful for.

You were walking back to your dorm, enjoying the cool autumn breeze flowing through your hair when a warm body plows into you. 

Staggering forward at the sudden force, you look back, eager to yell at the person who just ran into you. Your eyes are met with Paige’s, and she’s grinning like a maniac. Your heart slows once you realize who it is, and you roll your eyes playfully at the blonde’s childish behavior. 

Why did she have to be so damn endearing all the time?

Paige throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to her. You can smell her shampoo, and you fight the urge to lean in more. “Hey, P. What’s up?” You ask, hoping to play off the blush on your face on the effects of the cool air. 

“Just been missin’ you,” she replies. “Me and Aubrey are having the team over tonight. You comin’?” 

As badly as you wanted to, you knew it would not be a good idea. Paige had been partying it up a lot lately. And everytime you were around her, she would hang on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, her breath hitting your skin in a sinful way. She would cling to you, arms around your waist, pulling you in as if she owned you.

In a sick way, she kind of did. But Paige didn’t need to know that. You were desperately trying to avoid advancing any sort of feelings towards your best friend. 

You gaze up at her, looking into those eyes, wide with hope. It almost made you completely cancel your plans, but you had made a promise to yourself. At the beginning of the new school year, you had told yourself you would try and move on from Paige. And you were starting tonight.

“I have a date,” you profess, trying to keep up an air of confidence.

Paige’s face morphs into a look you couldn’t quite put your finger on. She almost looked annoyed. “Oh. Well, have fun. Stop on by after if you’re up to it.”

You nod, a small, faux smile adorning your face, and you wave bye to her as you head back home. 

~

Music is playing softly in your bathroom as you touch up your makeup. Your date, Ross, was coming to pick you up in 15 minutes, and the butterflies in your belly were swarming horrendously. You desperately wanted to find a way out of the situation, but your crush on Paige was going nowhere if you didn’t open yourself up to other people. That is why you’ve been distracting yourself every weekend with an endless stream of guys who just did not do it for you.

You gather your shoes and your purse before walking into the kitchen. You pour yourself a shot and down it, hissing as it burns its way down your throat. You weren’t the type to casually do shots, but you needed something to calm your nerves. 

Popping a breath mint, so your date didn’t think you were an alcoholic, you straighten your skirt, and you take a deep breath. ‘I look hot. I can do this,’ you affirm. Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud knock on your door. 

Grabbing your belongings, you plaster a smile on your face and open it. You become face-to-face with a tall, dark-haired guy. His smile was heavenly, and his eyes sparkled in a way that had your stomach doing flips. He was the perfect distraction, and in your head, you were applauding yourself. 

You introduce yourself, awkwardly holding out a hand for him to shake.

Chuckling, he grabs it, and with a wink says, “I’m Ross. Nice to formally meet you. You ready to go?” 

His large hand was engulfing yours, and once more today, a blush threatened to shroud your features. You nod and follow him out to his car. You take note of its messiness, but you overlook it. It was not the time to be overly critical. 

As you buckle yourself in, Ross turns on his music, and familiar lyrics come through the stereo system. You giggle at the song. Paige loved this song, and you had heard it so many times, you knew all the lyrics.

The drive goes by quick, to your relief. Ross pulls into the restaurant and backs into a parking spot. He does it with a practiced ease that reminds you of Paige.

Fuck.

You had to stop thinking about her. Your attempts to deter your own feelings were becoming futile, you were realizing, and a sinking feeling started to overtake your consciousness.

~

All throughout dinner, everything Ross did either annoyed you or reminded you of Paige. He was cute; you couldn’t deny that. But he wasn’t Paige. And as time passed, you realized that this was not going to work. 

Trying to get over Paige with guys who made you feel literally nothing was not going to do anything to quell the butterflies in your stomach that Paige gave you when she just smiled. And it certainly was not going to stop the way your heart pounded when she would hug you, hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist with a comfortable weight. 

So when he dropped you back off, you swore off trying to force anything between you and any more random guys that could not hold a candle to what you felt for Paige. It was a harsh reality, but you simply hoped that the crush would fizzle out before things could get weird between you and your best friend.

Glancing at your phone, you notice that the night was still young. Things were probably just ramping up over at Aubrey and Paige’s apartment, and you were so very tempted to head over just so you could be close to Paige. 

Before your voice of reason could take over, you are touching up your makeup and leaving your dorm to head over to Paige’s. There was nothing stopping your lovesick brain from savoring Paige’s drunken affections; you’d deal with consequences in the morning. 

~

Meanwhile, Paige was downing shots, trying to numb the pain of your absence. The girls of the basketball team had noticed her somber spirit, and several girls had huddled in the corner, trying to decipher what was going on with their blonde teammate. 

“Girly pop is gettin’ drunk real fast,” KK observed. 

“For real. Who hurt her?” Ice agrees worriedly. 

“Maybe it has something to do with a certain someone who is out on a date right now…” Nika trails, a smug smirk on her face

Gasps sound from the mouths of the tipsy girls, and knowing looks are shared as realizations come to head. 

“She’s down bad,” Ines giggles, sipping from her cup, and the team agrees, looking over to where Paige is moodily scrolling through her phone on the couch. 

Pressing a finger to her lips, KK sneaks over behind the couch where Paige is moping, and she subtly glances over Paige’s shoulder. Her face morphs into a look of sheer glee, and she runs back to the group with a smug grin on her face. 

“Guess who’s Insta she’s lookin’ through!” KK shrieks, and the other girls erupt with laughter, catching the attention of the aforementioned blonde. 

“Act natural,” Nika shushes, and the girls move away from their gossip circle to avoid suspicion. 

Before the team could give themselves away, you walk into the apartment, immediately locking eyes with Paige. With a shy wave, you walk over to where she was sitting, plopping down on the couch next to her.

“Why are you sitting here all alone?” You ask confusedly. 

Paige shrugs. “How was your date? I’m surprised you’re back already.”

You look down at your hands, fiddling with several of your rings. “He was…I don’t know? Not what I’m looking for, I guess?” You weren’t sure how to explain it. It’s not like you could confess that the real reason you had no desire to ever see Ross, or any other guy again if you were being honest, was because they weren’t Paige. 

“Well, ‘m glad you’re here. Let’s get my pretty girl a drink,” she says, words slightly slurring. She stands up, offering you a hand, and you take it without hesitation. It feels so natural, and you attempt to ignore the warmth in your chest that blooms, threatening to give away your practiced nonchalance. 

You completely miss how the group of girls in the corner erupt in giddy giggles as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the alcohol piled on the kitchen counter.

It doesn’t take you long to catch up to the rest of the people crowded in the apartment, and you’re soon tipsy, dancing around with Aubrey and Azzi. Your hips are swaying seductively to the rhythm of the music, when Paige is suddenly next to you, wrapping a muscular arm around your waist. She brings you closer to her, and through the haze of the alcohol, alarm bells sound in your brain.

You see Aubrey and Azzi share a knowing look as Paige hangs on you, singing the lyrics of the SZA song that was blasting through the apartment. Your cheeks heat up at the contact, and you avoid the gazes of the girls who were sending you smug smirks. 

“Fuck off,” you mouth in their direction. You had been fighting the yearning allegations, and this was not helping your case. 

Looking up at Paige, you notice how her eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide from the dark room and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. Your stare drops down to her lips, and she runs her tongue across her bottom lip to wet it. Feeling suddenly self-conscious and a bit warm, your eyes quickly dart back up to meet her gaze, and you pull further away from her to seek solace in the kitchen.

Paige furrows her brow in confusion, following you to the kitchen like a lost puppy, where you’ve already seated yourself on the counter top. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as the distance is created, but it only takes several seconds for Paige to insert herself between your spread legs.

She places a hand on your thigh tentatively, as if she could break you, and peers into your eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?” She questions, her voice cracking as she calls you ‘baby’. 

“Just needed some air,” you mumble, feeling hot again at her proximity. She was so pretty, and her touch was igniting a fire deep inside of you. 

Shit was starting to get dangerous.

Paige cocks her head, and places her other hand on the counter next to where your butt was, caging you in. Your breath quickens, and your head spins. 

Emboldened by your lack of sobriety, you hesitantly lean forward, worried your actions would scare Paige. She mirrors you, searching for a reason not to kiss you. 

You nod your head, and before you can even think about the insanity of the situation you had found yourself in, Paige’s lips were on yours. 

Her lips were soft, and they moved against yours in a sickening fashion, pulling a soft moan from the depths of your throat. Your hands reach up, one cupping her jaw, and the other resting on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you. Paige’s hand moves to your inner thigh, exposed from the short skirt you wore riding up, and she draws small circles, experimenting with the pressure as she goes. Her other hand moves your waist, bringing you in even closer until your bodies are melded together in the throes of passion and need. 

A whoop sounds through the kitchen, and Paige quickly pulls away to see Aubrey and KK dancing excitedly in the doorway. Your face flushes as you realize you’ve been caught, and you peek over to where Paige is now rubbing a hand across her face, a similar pink hue spreading over it. 

“Knew it,” Aubrey smirks, and she exchanges enthusiastic high fives with KK. 

Paige rolls her eyes at their antics before looking back over to you, still sitting awkwardly on the counter. 

“Let’s go talk in my room,” she mumbles, picking you up and placing you back onto your feet. 

Your heart lurches as she momentarily places her hands on the back of your thighs to help you down, and she leads you to her bedroom, shutting the door quietly.

You go to sit on her bed, thinking of ways to explain yourself for your lustful actions. You could always blame it on the alcohol, but you knew Paige would see right through that. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth, gnawing on it out of anxiety when Paige’s voice breaks your incessant worrying. 

“Been waiting for you to kiss me forever, ya know,” she deadpans. She’s trying to hide the grin on her face, as a look of shock engulfs your own. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, P? We could’ve been doing that for the past three years?” You respond, feeling a little less annoyed than the way it was coming off. You were actually fucking elated. 

Paige chuckles, and she comes to sit next to you, brushing a strand of hair over your shoulder. “What was I supposed to do when you were always dating all those random dudes?” She asks, shrugging, attempting to minimize the gravity of the situation.

Your face softens at her vulnerability. “I was trying to distract myself from you, Paigey,” you explain quietly. Paige lets out a small puff of air at the realization, and she leans in to you once more, her breath fanning across your lips. 

“I love you,” you whisper, and she pulls you in, repeating the words as if it was a prayer, over and over again. 

~

Thanks for reading!! I'll hopefully be posting again soon

[queers-gambit]

Damage Done

prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.4k+

note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?

warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, established relationship, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.

it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.

"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.

"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.

"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"

"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"

"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.

"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"

"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.

"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"

"What's that matter - "

"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "

"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.

"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."

"So?"

"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"

"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.

"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "

"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.

"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."

"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.

"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "

"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.

"Neither would Bucky."

The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.

You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.

Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"

"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.

"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.

"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.

"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."

"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.

He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.

You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.

There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...

"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"

He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.

"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"

"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.

"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"

"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."

Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"

"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."

"An equal partnership, would you say?"

"Yes."

"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.

"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."

You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"

"She keeps me safe."

Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.

"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.

"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"

"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.

"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."

"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"

"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."

"The fuck does that - "

But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"

"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.

"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"

The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.

"Longing."

"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.

"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.

"Rusted."

"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.

"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"

"Seventeen."

"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.

"Daybreak!"

"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"

He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.

"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.

"Nine!"

"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.

"Benign!"

"You stupid fucking little man!"

Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"

"DON'T!"

"Freight car!"

You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.

"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.

What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.

In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"

And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."

Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."

You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.

It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.

Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.

"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.

"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"

"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.

When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"

"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.

"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.

"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"

He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."

"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"

"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.

"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."

"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.

"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.

"I know - "

"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."

"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.

"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "

You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.

"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.

"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."

Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.

He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.

You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.

Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"

"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.

You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"

"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.

"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.

Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.

"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"

"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.

"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"

"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."

"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."

"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."

"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."

"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."

"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.

Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.

You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.

"No..."

"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.

"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"

"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."

"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."

"I'm sorry, Buck."

"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"

"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."

"She didn't want to come here?"

Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."

Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."

"Gotta agree with you there."

"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."

You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.

"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"

"I'm okay."

"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"

"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."

"I still hurt you, I still did it."

"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."

"I can smell the fear on you."

"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."

"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."

"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."

He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"

"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"

"What's that, doll?"

"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."

His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."

"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."

"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."

"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."

"You and I, both..."

You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."

"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."

You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."

"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."

"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."

"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"

"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."

His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.

"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."

"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."

Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."

"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"

"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."

"You might regret that."

"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."

"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."

"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."

"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."

"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.

"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."

"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."

Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.

"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.

"I do."

"Is it still unregistered?"

"You know it is. Who're we calling?"

"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."

"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"

"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."

When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.

"Always. Got my six?"

"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."

"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."

"Hmm? For what, handsome?"

"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."

You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."

"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."

"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."

He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

slightly different from the book rec asks but you mentioned Jamie loftus so… any non-fiction podcast recs?

wow the great news is that I am pretty much constantly listening to a nonfiction podcast of one kind or another so this is huge for me. here are some of my faves!

Betwixt the Sheets: The History of Sex, Scandal, and Society - joined by a rotating cast of guest experts, sex historian Kate Lister goes on a romp through history to learn all about the sexual norms and revolutions of yesteryear.

Black People Love Paramore - in episodes that follow the formate of "Black People Love X," host Sequoia Holmes interviews her guests about their passions for pop cultural niches where Black people are often underrepresented, overlooked, or excluded altogether. heavy focus on music, as the title suggests, but topics also include Tony Hawk, pet ownership, and a memorable episode about being a slut featuring Ify Nwadiwe.

Maintenance Phase - truly like the #1 pod I get hype for when new episodes go up. hosted by fat activist Aubrey Gordon and methodology queen Michael Hobbes, focused on investigating and debunking various health and wellness fads as well as fatphobic misconceptions.

Oh No, Ross and Carrie - ONRAC just ended after thirteen and a half years of investigating all kinds of claims about wellness, spirituality, and the paranormal, ranging from self-proclaimed faith healers to exorcists to alien sightings to pet psychics to the creationist Ark-themed theme park in Kentucky. they have a HUGE backlog, great for browsing.

The Sporkful - a short and sweet podcast hosted by pasta enthusiast Dan Pashman, with each episode focusing on a different question, trend, or event from the world of food. despite being a pretty lighthearted show Pashman is admirably unafraid to tackle the less savory side of food culture; I first became aware of the podcast when he scored a searing interview with Sohla El-Wahlly after the revelation of massive workplace discrimination at YouTube's former darling, BA Test Kitchen.

The Stacks - the only book podcast I can currently tolerate. host Traci Thomas chats with authors about their new fiction and nonfiction releases and hosts a monthly book club. very chill listening, but dangerous for your to-read list.

There Are No Girls on the Internet - host Bridget Todd dives deep into tech trends, online outrages, and misinformation moments across the web. for my money, TANGOTI's coverage of the fatalities at Travis Scott's 2021 Astroworld event and the ensuing satanic panic conspiracy theories were some of the absolute best reporting around the event. currently on hiatus, so you have plenty of time to raid the archives!

Vibe Check - poet Saeed Jones and journalists Zach Stafford and Sam Sanders discuss pop culture and politics, answer listener requests for advice, and generally queen out together. you want nuance? the girlies have Nuance. genuinely one of the warmest and kindest podcasts in my rotation.

[toomuchracket]

caffeine overload (barista matty x reader smut)

promptober. this is so soft!! i almost cried writing!! enjoy <3

you wake up to an aching body and an empty bed.

it's the latter that bugs you most, though - it's 10am on a sunday, matty's day off, you're in his bed, and he's nowhere to be found. wincing as you do, you reach towards his side of the bed, only to discover the sheets - while rumpled - are cold; he's been up for a while.

bastard. what's the point of having a boyfriend with nice arms if you can't wake up in them?

fuck it. you might as well get up and find him. plus, your throat is dry, the kind of soreness that can only be achieved by drinking copious amounts of vodka-based concoctions, the kind of soreness that can only be alleviated by drinking a pint of cold water in one go. with great effort, you pull yourself out of bed and matty's sweatshirt over your head, shuffling out of the bedroom at a snail's pace. when you reach the hallway, you speed up slightly as the smell of fresh coffee wafts its way to you from the kitchen, the promise of both caffeine and matty spurring you on.

stepping onto the tiled floor in bare feet makes you hiss, which in turn makes matty look up. he's at the breakfast bar, reading a book - one you gave to him in recommendation, actually - and he smiles softly as soon as he sees you. god, he's beautiful. “hi, baby,” his voice is even softer than his face. “y’alright?”

“no.”

“no?” he looks panicked, rushing to you and gently holding your face. “you're not feeling well?”

“no, i don't even have a headache,” you wrap your arms around his waist, smushing your face into him. “i'm not alright because you weren't in bed when i woke up,” tilting your head, you give him the sad eyes - slight overkill, maybe, but you secretly love playing into the girlfriend role like this. “wanted a cuddle.”

“oh, darling,” matty's face softens again, and he moves his arms around your shoulders to hug you properly. “m'sorry, sweet girl. i just figured you'd maybe want to sleep for a while, and i could go and make coffee for you waking up.”

you pull back slightly, brows raised in interest. “is there coffee for me?”

he kisses your nose. “coffee and a cookie in the oven.”

“you're a dream, healy.”

“i try. sit down, darling, i'll get you breakfast,” matty drops a kiss onto the top of your head as you oblige, perching yourself on a stool while he faffs about with the fancy coffee machine you think is both slightly pointless (his coffee shop is literally downstairs) and scary to use by yourself (why on earth are there so many buttons?). “so,” he slides you a big glass of water, which you gulp down eagerly. “how are you genuinely feeling this morning?”

“so, so tired,” as if to prove your point, you yawn. “but my head is fine, and i don't feel pukey. my limbs are aching, though. like, proper sore.”

“well, that's what happens when you dance for three straight hours, sweetheart.”

the smile in his voice is obvious. you glare at his (very nice-looking) back. “m'never going anywhere run by your friends ever again.”

“nah, ross said you and the girls were great fun. you're welcome back anytime, apparently.”

still, you grumble. “can't believe you didn't tell me it was his bar,” you sip your water. “or that he was so attractive. i mean, really, one friend group should not contain so many good-looking people. s'unfair.”

matty cackles. “i'm gonna tell the girls you said that.”

“no, they agreed. we had this discussion yesterday. they're all in love with ross, now.”

he winces. “i don't think any of them would be able to handle ross,” matty turns to face you. “even you might struggle, to be honest.”

your eyes widen. “oh, you mean, like…?”

“oh, yeah. he's a proper dom, that one,” matty winks. “not like either of us.”

interesting. “have the two of you ever-”

“fucked? nah.”

you roll your eyes. “i was gonna say shared someone, but alright.”

“haven't done that either,” the oven beeps, and matty carefully removes the delicious-smelling chocolate-chip treat, before smirking at you. “why? you interested?”

you shrug. “maybe. if everyone wants to. i don't mind.”

“i can ask him - careful with that, it's hot,” your boyfriend slides the cookie and a set of cutlery to you, which you excitedly thank him for before tucking in. “he thinks you're fit, so he might be up for it.”

“he does?”

“told me last night that he ‘understands why i've been spending all my time with you,’” matty smiles, pouring espresso and oat milk into a mug. “you know, when you phoned me at half 11 to come and pick you up because you missed me too much.”

“shut up,” you can feel your cheeks burning. “too many people were ordering espresso martinis. it made me miss you.”

he reaches across to caress your cheek. “oh, my sweet, clingy girl. you're so weird.”

“you literally make the cold brew that goes into them. it would be weird if i didn't think about you when someone got one,” you take the final bite of your cookie. “and don't you try to pretend you didn't absolutely love me calling you. could hear you smiling from all the way down the street.”

“yeah, i did love it. i love being your boyfriend, and getting to take care of you,” while you swoon, he places a latte in front of you, foam art designed in a heart shape. “speaking of, d'you want a shower? might help your post-dancing pains.”

“ooh, yeah,” you sip your coffee, sighing happily. “can i hop in now?”

“of course, darling,” matty smiles when you kiss his cheek; his brow furrows when you get up to leave the room, though. “you're taking the latte with you?”

“why wouldn't i?”

he shakes his head. “you really are weird, darling.”

“and you're into me regardless,” you wink, and he giggles. it's adorable. “i won't be long, babe.”

true to your word, you're out in fifteen minutes, body soothed by the combination of hot water and matty’s shower gel. once you're dry, clad in his jumper and boxers, you pad through to the living room and climb onto his lap on the sofa. “hi.”

“hi, baby,” matty kisses your head, reaching to mute the tv before wrapping his arms around you. “feeling better?”

“yeah. still a bit tired, but-”

“oh, i can help with that,” he lets go of you long enough to hand you a full, steaming mug of coffee from the little table beside you. “started making it when i heard the shower turn off.”

“you're so sweet, matthew,” you coo, taking a long drink of the coffee before kissing your boyfriend on the cheek. “making me coffee, putting the fire on, buying me cleanser and moisturiser to keep here - that was really thoughtful, by the way, angel. thank you.”

he giggles, hiding his face in your neck. “i just like making you happy.”

“you're really good at it,” once you've laid the coffee back on the table, your hands find their way onto matty's face. “and you're so pretty!”

“oh, shush,” he rolls his eyes, cheeks warming under your hands. “you're the pretty one, we both know this.”

“mmmm, no.”

“mmmm, yeah.”

“no, you're-”

“cookie, my darling, you're not winning this argument. trust me, babe,” matty leans back, eyes raking up and down your body in a not-particularly-PG-but-very-sexy manner. “especially not when you're wearing my clothes.”

“you like it when i do that?”

“fuck, yeah,” he grins, cheeky. “s'my favourite look of yours. well,” he corrects himself. “second favourite.”

“the first's when i'm naked, isn't it?”

“is it creepy if i say yes?”

“matty, you're my boyfriend,” you roll your eyes. “i want you to like it when i'm naked.”

he presses his forehead to yours. “i love it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” his lips meet your forehead, your nose, your lips - the kiss is quick, but as good as ever. “you're fucking gorgeous. like, sex thoughts aside… you just look so beautiful when you're not wearing anything. i mean, you're always beautiful, but,” he smiles against your lips. “i think you're really stunning when you're at your barest like that. dunno if it's a trust thing, or just to do with how deeply i feel for you anyway, but… yeah.”

jesus. you're not a believer in the concept of absolute perfection, but matty definitely comes pretty bloody close; you'd give him that accolade for the way he kisses you back alone. detaching your lips when you risk getting too lightheaded, you giggle softly into him, a sound he copies. “you're my favourite, you know,” you kiss him again, smiling against him when he moans into your mouth. “and if you wanted to see me naked right now… i'd be quite up for that.”

matty smiles. “thought you were tired, darling?”

“nuh-uh,” you shake your head. “the caffeine's done its job. maybe a little bit too well, actually,” another kiss. “i want you, matty.”

he groans, burrowing his head into your neck; you join in with the chorus when his lips meet the soft skin there. “how do you want it, cookie?”

“i want - oh, fuck,” you whimper, hand coming up to clutch your boyfriend's hair as he nips at your neck. “want it on the floor…”

“dirty girl.”

“... in front of the fire,” the words come out as a strangled groan, matty sucking marks onto your body sending heat flooding within it. “want you deep, and slow, and filling me up. yes,” you cut him off, noticing his mouth opening as if to talk. “i want you to cum inside me.”

“i thought you didn't like that?”

“no, i didn't like it with anyone else,” you bite your lip, well aware of what you're about to say. “but you… i think you should mark what's yours.”

“god,” matty's voice is shaky, more breath than sound. his forehead meets your shoulder, and you smile as you caress the back of his head while he inhales deeply. sweet boy.

the sweetness doesn't last long, though - he hooks his hands under your arse and lifts you, still biting at your neck as he carries you to the soft rug in front of the fire. you've been obsessed with matty's fireplace since the first time you saw it, fascinated by the crackling flames illuminating and warming up the room; they're very reminiscent of how matty lights you up, and manages to send heat coursing through your body. like now, for instance, as he kneels to carefully lay you down on the fabric and his thumbs find the waistband on your shorts on their way back round to the front of your body… yeah, you're turned on.

and he knows it, the little shit, grinning stupidly when you bite your lip. “alright, cookie?”

you pout. “matty…”

“yeah, darling?” he kisses your nose, and a fresh set of butterflies take off within you. “what d'you want?”

“please take my clothes off,” you roll your hips up into his, biting your lip when he groans softly. “and yours. wanna see you.”

matty coos, leaning back to pull his t-shirt over his head. the fabric is thrown onto the sofa, closely followed by your (well, his) sweatshirt, and he beams at the sight of your bare chest. “perfect girl.”

“pretty boy,” you rake your nails down matty's chest, just hard enough to make him moan, hooking them into the waistband of his sweatpants. “can i?”

“please, yeah.”

“mmmkay,” you slide the grey fabric down, beaming when matty moves to kick it off his legs and you see what's underneath - which is, to say, absolutely nothing. “matthew, you little slut.”

“says the woman begging me to get her naked,” he retorts, pulling your shorts off and pushing your legs back; his pupils dilate at the sight of your glistening core. “fuck, cookie, is this all for me?”

you nod enthusiastically. “all of it,” your voice is breathy with desperation, words turning to a wanton moan as you watch matty stroke himself while he looks at you. “take what's yours, please. put it in, baby, ple- oh, just like that.”

“oh my god,” matty slowly pushes into you, moving to rest on his elbows at either side of your head. his forehead rests against yours, chests pressed together and breathing slowly in tandem as he finally bottoms out; it's the most intimate the two of you have been with each other so far, and - in the best possible way, of course - you're feeling a little bit overwhelmed. matty being matty, lovely and attentive, he notices, shifting his weight onto one elbow so he can softly stroke your cheek. “you alright, my girl?”

you nod. “yeah, angel. just full.”

your heart, too.

“d'you need a minute like this, darling?”

“if that's okay,” you kiss his nose. “like having you close to me.”

matty beams, and it makes your heart feel funny. “so do i. we'll stay like this as long as you want.”

“thank you,” you smile, lightly scratching his scalp the way he likes. “can i have a kiss, please?”

he doesn't answer. instead, matty presses his lips to yours, tongue languid as it traces across your cupid's bow and licks into your mouth when you open it in a soft moan. it's just as passionate as ever, but slow, drawn-out, and just completely ruinous to you; your cunt tightens around him, desperate to be even closer to your boyfriend than you already are, probably as a result of his mouth kissing away any thoughts in your head that aren't him. your hips begin to roll, matty's follow suit, and - still kissing - soon enough, he's fucking you exactly how you wanted him to, slow and deep and so fucking good. 

you're not even sure you can call it fucking, actually, the sex you two are having right now; neither of you have said the important word to each other, yet, but there's really no other way to describe this activity as anything other than lovemaking. not that you've ever done that, or ever actually been in love with anyone, but the word seems like an accurate term for right now, when you feel like you'd die if matty was any further away from you than he currently is, and you’re desperate to make him happy, to make him make those gorgeous little moans that fall from his lips whenever you clench around him or roll your hips just so, to make him kiss you so hard it leaves you both breathless.

he pulls away from your lips slightly after one such kiss, just enough that he can look at you properly; when he does, his face cracks into a gorgeous smile. “hi.”

“hi,” you smile back, caressing his cheekbone. “having fun?”

“s'an understatement,” matty laughs, groaning as he fucks into you again. “only one thing that could make this better for me, actually.”

“s'that?”

he ducks his head down, licking a long stripe up your neck to your lips. “you letting me make you cum.”

fuck. “yes, please.”

another kiss, a smile against your lips. “so good for me. cum whenever you're ready, yeah?”

you smirk. “you don't want me to beg?”

matty shakes his head. “not today, cookie. want you to take what you deserve.”

“okay,” you kiss him, moaning into his open mouth when a calloused thumb finds your clit, circling with practised precision. “fuck, baby, you're so good,” the two layers of stimulation feel amazing, proven by you audibly getting wetter as matty keeps thrusting, slow and deep and sexy. “so fucking good.”

“love feeling you like this,” your boyfriend groans, burrowing his head into your neck. “could stay like this forever. and i would, if you wanted me to,” he kisses your neck, gentle, before moving to look at you again. those pretty eyes of his are hazy, his cheeks are flushed, and he's never looked more beautiful. “i'd do anything for you, darling.”

the overwhelming intimacy of the morning reaches breaking point; so do you, imminent orgasm the only thing preventing you from giving in and saying the word that's been dancing on the tip of your tongue whenever you've so much as thought about matty lately. instead, you cling to him, whispering against his lips. “m'so close.”

matty whines, hips and hand keeping up their movements, despite the fact you can feel him shaking above you. “c'mon, cookie,” his words are punctuated with kisses, desperate liplocks that you can't quite decide are meant to fuel him or tip you over the edge. both, probably. “let go for me, my darling. give in, let me give you what you deserve, perfect girl.”

that's all you need.

“fuck, matty,” you press your face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, whimpering into his sweaty skin as pleasure careens through your trembling body. it's the strongest orgasm you think you've ever had, every little subsequent aftershock devastating to you; when one of them coincides with matty's orgasm, it actually sets you off fully again, moaning in harmony with him as he pulses heat deep inside you. “oh my god.”

“jesus,” matty groans into your hair, fucking shallower and shallower into you as he stops cumming. once he's done, he practically falls onto you, resting his head on your heaving chest - there's silence for a minute, aside from heavy breathing and the crackling of the fire, and then he lifts his head up to peek at you. “how you feeling, cookie?”

you nod, trying to find the words. “like i just had the best sex i've ever had.”

your boyfriend laughs, leaning up to kiss you sweetly. “i'm feeling the same.”

“really?”

“yeah,” he brushes a bit of hair from your face. “that was really special, baby. meant a lot to me.”

“me too,” you reach up to touch his face, mirroring his action with you. “never felt like this before, y'know. so safe, so cared for,” you smile bashfully. “or so beautiful, actually.”

“oh, darling,” matty kisses your forehead. “m'glad i can make you feel so good. all i wanna do, to be honest.”

“sweet boy,” you smile. “can we stay like this for a while?

he smiles back, and you have to bite your lip from blurting out how you actually feel about him. “of course.”

[chososdiscordkitten]

Boyfriend!Choso♡

Pairing: Choso x Gn!reader

Content: Fluff, sfw, no use of y/n or pronouns, readers appearance isnt mentioned, talk of marriage, sooo many cuddles, Choso's love language is acts of service, mentions of skin picking from anxiety, John wick movies mentioned lol

Word count: 3.5k

(a.n) I wrote this bcs I miss him sm, I shed a few tears while writing this btw. He's my pookie bear. finally putting my endless amount of books of love poems to work! I wrote this while listening to 'We'll Never Have Sex- Leith Ross' if u were curious:3

When I think about Choso as your boyfriend, I picture him being so gentle and delicate whenever it comes to you. Always a small sweet smile on his lips whenever he did something for you. As small as it was- all he needed was a simple “Awe, thank you Cho.” from you and a kiss on his cheek and he was set for the day. If you were studying for your college final, he’s the kind of person to bring you a warm cup of fresh coffee, “Careful-” he’d urge, seeing your hand reach for it. “It's hot.” Warning you, even if he was holding it from the bottom before he came to give it to you. I see Choso adoring kisses from you. Small pecks on his cheek or his forehead. In his mind it was your way to say thank you, even if it wasn't needed. But he loved how his chest swelled when you'd say, “Oh, Choso. You're so sweet.” your hand going to your chest and your eyebrows pinched together. Early in your relationship Choso noticed how much he liked hearing you praise him. Even if it was a quiet “Thank You.” followed by a warm smile. He liked knowing that you enjoyed his acts of service. It was his form of showing affection, thinking that he wasn't good with his words. And feeling like hugs and kisses weren't enough to make you feel his love. The best way Choso could describe it is wanting you to keep him in your pocket, when you commented that to him he liked the idea so much that it got stuck in his head. The idea of him living in your pocket so he was always with you, always there in case you needed a warm hug. He liked seeing your face light up when you came home from work after having a bad day. Only needing to see him in order to feel better. It also helped that he always greeted you by the door with a warm smile on his lips. Always taking your coat off for you, and asking how your day was.

Choso feels things so deeply, even mentioning the day you might break up made him nervous. Making his hands clammy and his eyebrows furrow. “If I tell you this, you have to promise me that you will never tell anyone.” You tell him, the two of you sitting faces inches apart, legs criss crossed like two children sharing secrets. He opened his mouth to talk, his hand going to his chest and laying flat against his oversized white t-shirt. “I promise, I will never tell anyone.” serious look on his face as he vowed to you. “Cho, I'm serious, even if one day you hate me- you cannot tell a soul.” you smiled, seeing Choso’s eyebrows furrow. “I would never hate you. Never in my life will I ever hate you-” he promised, his hand reaching down to hold yours as his eyes went wide with worry. “And if one day I tell you that I do- that is not me.” he smiled. Making you laugh as you clutched his hand. Smiling before leaning in to kiss his forehead, Choso’s eyes blinking shut as his cheeks turned warm. Pulling away and looking at his now calm eyes, “Okay-” you smiled, before pulling his head to your lips and whispering in his ear. 

I think the way Choso loves is pure and unconditionally. The kind of love that was shown by his actions rather than his words. Like when you cut your finger while mincing some vegetables for lunch. Choso would wipe it gently with hydrogen peroxide. Wincing with you as though he felt the sting on your finger. Mumbles of “You have to be careful.” as he wrapped it delicately. Placing a gentle kiss on the bandage before cleaning up. Any time he saw a bruise on your calf, he hissed as his fingers pressed it. “Where'd that come from?” he asked, his voice pained as he rubbed it gently. “No idea. Didn't even know it was there.” you smiled, feeling him press a soft kiss to it. To Choso, all wounds and bruises are healed with kisses. He knew that if you treated something with love and care, it would heal quicker. His theory made you smile as he swore that it was true. Remembering his theory when you'd hold his hands, your soft fingers examining his calloused ones as he watched a show you had put on. Almost feeling the pain in your own hands when you saw the sides of his fingertips bright pink. Small scabs forming at the sides of his fingernails, sharp pain in your heart as your eyes scanned them. Knowing he picked at the skin anytime he got anxious. Choso turned his head to look at you to see what was wrong. Seeing your saddened eyes on his fingers. Lifting them up and placing kisses to the tips of them one by one. Your eyes closed as he felt his heart swell.

The way Choso loves is an adoration only seen in movies. The kind of love that teenage girls write about in their diaries. The kind of love that no matter what you've gone through, he will stay by your side. Feet planted to the ground and arm wrapped around you. The kind of man who would defend your actions- no matter if they're wrong, with an iron fist. The kind of love where if you were lost at sea, he'd sail through the endless salt water till he found you. Love so pure, you were unsure of it at first. Only ever seeing this kind of love in movies and tv shows. But he assured you quickly, this wasn't any movie or tv show. His warm hands on your face always reminded you of that. You'd close your eyes and feel him kiss your cheeks, placing one onto your brow bone, onto the bridge of your nose. However many kisses it took to make sure you knew that this wasn't some fairytale. Choso would get tears in his eyes when he heard you speak about the trials you were put through growing up. Crumbling completely at your words, hearing your voice started to shake and your eyes turned red with tears. Not being able to understand how anyone could hurt you. To him you were precious. Even thinking about the tears you’ve shed over your pain, made him sad. He never understood how people could be so cruel, especially to you. He hated seeing you sad. He hated seeing you in bed all day, he hated seeing you pick at your food. Choso hated seeing your lips chapped and cracking while you tried to assure him that you were okay with a smile. He is such an empath when it comes to you, always trying his hardest to cheer you up. 

Choso’s favorite moments with you were the ones where he would hold you close. Slow dancing in the living room by candle light when the lights went out. Violent rain and thunder outside as he hummed the tune of a song. Stumbling feet as you both tried to figure out the movements. And every night before bed when you held onto him as though he would disappear in your hands if you let go. Feeling your fingertips press into his clothed skin, face nuzzled to his chest. His chin on the top of your head, his hand rubbing your back as he lulled you to sleep. Even in deep slumber, he never lets you go. Most nights going to sleep in each others arms and waking up still clinging to each other, somehow feeling like two puzzle pieces coming together. Most of the moments you shared together were spent in silence. Only in eachothers arms. Eyes closed as you felt the feelings of stress and the worries of life fade away in his arms. His hand caressing the side of your face as you drifted to sleep. Choso loved hearing your heartbeat, feeling your warmth against the side of his face as he tried counting how many times you breathed per minute. To him it was like counting sheep before going to bed. I don't think Choso would be the type to use pet names, preferring the intimacy of calling you by your name. But he loved hearing you say his name, the way your voice always said it so sweetly. He loved your voice. Just hearing you whisper, "Good morning-" before kissing his cheek made him giddy in the morning. That's why he would insist on you reading out loud to him, caressing your knee while listening to your voice.

I see Choso as the kind of guy who would try to convince you he knew how to tell someone's future, “Oh really?” You asked, sarcasm in your tone as his hand held yours. “I swear I do-” he started, a smile already on his face as he looked up to the sky. It was late, two, maybe three am. Both of you had lost the want to sleep that night, Choso had asked you if you had noticed how bright the stars shined at night. Seeing as you were on the outskirts of Tokyo and high in the mountains, the stars shone so brightly. So close you felt like you could touch them if you reached your hand out to them. Laying on the grass as you looked over at him, the full moon gave you a clear look at his face. “Then tell me my future.” You said, turning to your side and holding your head up with your hand. He closed his eyes, And let out a ‘hmmm’ he let go of your hand, mirroring the way you laid, opening one eye to look at you. “You have to close your eyes too or it wont work.” He smiled, looking at you. Sighing as you closed your eyes, knowing he was just trying to be funny. “Alright now I can see.” He laughed, you exhaled sharply hearing his tone. His hand reached for yours again, guiding you to hold your hand flat against his, “Ohh i see. This makes sense.” He exaggerated. “Tell me.” you smiled, keeping your eyes closed. Choso opened his eyes to look at you. Admiring your features, taking in the image of you. He thought you looked so beautiful. The way you smiled, waiting for him to tell you the future. Practically melting at how your yes shut tight in anticipation, he smiled. Leaning over to kiss you, pulling away as he watched you open your eyes. You looked at him, eyes squinted, “I knew it.” you said, dropping your hand from his as he smiled at you. He turned to lay on his back, laying your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat quicken. His hand went to you back, holding you close as you closed your eyes. “The only thing I see when I think about my future is knowing it will be with you.” Choso whispered, his free hand behind his head as you rubbed your hand on his chest. 

I see Choso not liking horror movies, always dreading when you brought home a dvd from the 5 dollar section at the gas station. It wasn't because he was scared or anything (his words not mine) he just didn't like seeing the violent things people thought about to make a movie. Not understanding what cruel childhood the director must've had to think of such disgusting gore. Choso's hands clothing your arm, closing his eyes anytime he sensed a scary scene was coming. His body involuntarily jumped as a loud bang flashed on the screen. And everytime you laughed he'd say, “I was falling asleep- the noise surprised me.” Defending himself to you like he had to let you think he was strong. And after the movie was over and you'd be getting ready for bed, in the kitchen getting a glass of water. You'd say, “Did you hear that?” voice quiet and feigning fear. Seeing him flinch, shoulders stiff and turning around to stand in front of you, protecting you from any ghosts that dared step into the light. You couldn't hold in your laugh when you saw him get into his ‘fighting stance’ as he liked to call it, seeing him look back at you with a deadpan face. Taking a step forwards toward your bedroom. “Wait, don't leave the ghosts might get me!” you'd laugh, seeing his hand fwip up and down. “They can have you.” he mumbled, waiting for you at the doorway, secretly afraid of a ghost actually being there. Choso loves you always, even when you feel like complete garbage as the flu ate away at you. “Don't come near me- you'll get sick.” You'd say stuffy nose as he tried to hug you. “I don't care.” he’d reply, his hands wrapping around you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Spending the few days doting on you, holding you close while you shivered in his arms. Whispering to you "Gimme a kiss." before bed. Knowing he won’t go to sleep if you didn't grant him his wish. It didn't take long for Choso to catch it. But like he told you, he didn't care. As a matter of fact- he preferred being sick. It only gave you more reasons to stay at home with him, loving how you’d make him hot soup. How you'd scold him when he didn't take the flu medicine you had bought him. Choso didn't care, he liked knowing that the next morning you'd have to call into work to take care of him. Even long after it had passed, early in the mornings asking you to feel his forehead. That he doesn't feel too good. And you'd always check, pressing your hand to his forehead, “Cho, you feel fine.” you'd say, “Well my stomach hurts too-” he'd say, watching your hands grab your coat with pained eyes, seeing his eyes full of desperation. You placed a kiss on his lips, “I will be home soon.” you'd say through your teeth, seeing him pout in response. Always looking for a way to keep you home with him. 

I see Choso being jealous and possessive. Not in the way you’d think, more in a “I'm jealous of the wind that blows through your clothes.” kind of way. Possessive in the “I want you here with me till the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.” manner. I could never picture Choso willingly being toxic, a few pinkish flags but nothing that could ever really bother you. He was thrown into the new feelings of a different kind of love, so it was understandable when he would say something that was a thought straight from his head. Not bothering to think about it before telling you. But you always knew he meant his words, no matter how jumbled they were. When Choso had brought up how he could never forgive himself if he ever made you cry, you felt your heart strings pull at your chest. How he was so blessed to be with you. Loving him even when he was a mess. The kind of lover that draws you by candle light, telling you- “You look so beautiful- I have to show you.” his hands picking up a napkin and a stray pen from the living room coffee table. Drawing you slowly as you looked at him, thinking about how you were the blessed one to have such a perfect partner. Choso feared very few things, always making sure that you're safe in any situation. Didn't matter how small the danger risk was, you always came first. But what he feared most was your death, he had seen the movies about a perfect love that was shattered by the death of the other. While watching movies Choso liked picturing the two of you as the characters in his mind. Movies that were stupid romcoms, but he still watched them while daydreaming the couples were you and him. When you had brought up if he'd like to watch the John Wick movies, “They're just action movies about a guy who never dies.” You'd say as he nodded his head yes. After watching the first one he thought heavily of what he'd do if you were taken from him. What would become of him if you weren't here anymore. Choso’s heart clenched as he started breathing heavily. Turning over to see your back as you slept, fearing you had died in your sleep he pulled your arm so you'd flip to your back. Placing his ear to your chest, focusing on trying to hear your heartbeat as you slept. A relieved sigh leaving his lips at hearing your heart. Feeling the sudden weight on your chest, stirring awake as you squinted down at him. His eyes look up at you, whispering a small “Sorry.” Before pulling the shared blanket back on top of you. Laying on his side as you turned back around. His hands find their designated place around you, spooning you while you go back to sleep. 

Before you came into his life, Choso didn't have a home. He didn't have something to call home, even if he had a place to lay his head at night. Reading about how people consider their partners home. He didn't know what the feeling felt like till he was in your arms. The tingling feeling in his cheeks as you held onto him, thinking back to a poem he had read a while ago. He'd look up at you, “I get it now-” he'd say propping himself up on his forearms. Looking at his face that was lit up as though he had solved a puzzle he was putting together for years. Your eyes scanned his face in confusion as he jumped off of the bed and walked to the office of your apartment. Sitting up as you heard him rummaging through the drawers. Walking back to the bedroom with a smile on his face and a small book in hand. Fingers flipping through the pages in search of something. “It's the middle of the night-” you said, feeling him plop onto the bed, his eyes widening when he found what he was looking for. He cleared his throat, eyes on the text. “If I were to build a house, I'd have your arms as the walls,-” Choso read, eyes looking back up to you to make sure you were listening. “Your eyes as the windows, your smile as the front door, your heart as the fireplace.”  Toothy smile on his lips as he read the words to you. “And your soul as my light.” his voice shaking, watching your eyes tear up. “And in this house, I'd place my faith, knowing I'd finally found a home.” He finished, closing the pages and setting it down. Your eyes struggled to keep the tears at bay, eyebrows pinched together as his eyes looked to yours, small smile on his lips. “I read this before I met you-” he said, eyes sparkling even in the dim lighting. “And I finally understand it.” He confessed, placing his head back to your chest, his eyes shutting in content, feeling you held his face. “I finally know what a home feels like.” He mumbled to your skin, hand flat on your rib. Smile on your lips while a single tear fell down your cheek. Choso didn't think he was the greatest at explaining his feelings, relying on his actions instead. But when he would say small things like that, it would always make your heart warm. Knowing that there was someone in this world who truly loved you. Unconditionally and without restraint. Never feeling shame in telling you loved you, even if he had told you 10 times that day. 

I see Choso as the kind of person who says things without thinking of them first, but only with you. Often preferring silence with strangers. But when hes with you, he would blurt out the thoughts that had popped into his head while he listened to your ranting about your coworkers. Staring into your eyes, listening to the colorful string of words leave your lips. Heard in his pupils, chin in his hand, low eyes when you noticed his staring. He let a hum fall from his closed lips. “Marry me.” He hummed, eyes going wide hearing his own words leave his mouth before he could stop them. You smiled, relaxing your shoulders. Letting a small laugh fall from your lips seeing him start to stutter trying to save the conversation. Silence falling between you as you watched him realize he couldn't make you unhear his words. “I messed it up again, didn't I?” he asked, his hand on his forehead while he looked down. “Like when I messed it up when you told me you loved me-” He asked, looking up to see you smiling. Sighing, feeling embarrassment flush his cheeks. “It's okay.” You smiled, holding his hand and placing a kiss on his forehead. Feeling his stiff shoulders soften. "It's okay." You repeated, lacing your fingers with his as you soothed him.

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a lil shorter than usual but I wanted to post this for anyone who was looking for Choso fluff, knowing that there isnt a whole lot of it on here🫠