#please be nice and give polite feedback!

[danveration]

Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.

[domjaehyun]

tangerine love (favorite) (l.dh)

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader

GENRES. fluff, smut, light humor

WORD COUNT. 21.8k

CONTENTS. explicit smut (oral (receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cumming inside, riding, breast/nipple play, haechan kinda likes to talk dirty)

NOTES. mandarins and tangerines are actually not interchangeable but for the sake of this fic, i do not care. this was very fun to write. i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) 

PLAYLIST. plastic off the sofa - beyoncé // tangerine love (favorite) - nct dream

Ever since moving into this new apartment complex with your friends Mijoo and Chuu, you’ve only caught a few glimpses of the three guys that live directly across the hall from you. 

Renjun, Jaemin, and Haechan all seem like nice guys in passing, always smiling politely and waving, but there’s always been something…different about Haechan. You could chalk it up to a budding crush on the handsome male, but there’s always a playful air to his presence, his eyes glinting with a secret you’re begging to be let in on.

You barely get any discerning words in whenever you pass by each other, the only notable time you’ve spent together being in a quick trip up to your floor in the elevator, and you spent that whole time trying to avoid getting caught ogling his attractive features. 

Based on the small amused chuckle he’d let out after a quick glance to you as he’d gestured for you to exit first, you think you weren’t as discreet as you’d hoped to be. 

That mildly embarrassing incident, however, only registers as a 3 on the Embarrassment Richter Scale that you definitely did not just make up. 

What definitely classifies as a 6, however, and you’re not being dramatic (probably), is tonight, when you make it to your apartment at 4:00am to find that you’ve forgotten your key and are, therefore, locked out.

After three unanswered calls to each of your roommates’ phones and four whining voicemails, you begin to lose hope.

“Oh, come on,” you mutter, restlessly shifting from foot to foot as you knock at the door insistently. “Wake up, wake up—”

“Hey, neighbor,” you hear from behind you, and you hesitate, praying you’ve incorrectly matched the voice to a person, before turning around. 

Of course, because your luck is just fantastic, none other than Haechan stands behind you, leaning against the wall by his front door.

“Hey,” you offer a small wave, and he raises his eyebrows, gesturing at your door with a hand holding a beer can. “Locked out.”

“Ah,” he says sympathetically. “That sucks. Have you tried kicking it?”

“K-Kicking it?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion, and he nods, striding across the hall to stand beside you. He smells amazing, you note with a dreamy sigh that you hope he didn’t hear, and he points to the part of the door where the lock is. 

“Yeah, maybe if you kick it right here,” he cranes his head to look at you, smirking slightly when you blink at him wide-eyed, “you can kick the door in. I saw it on TV once.”

“We aren’t on TV,” you comment with a small snort, making Haechan chuckle and nod in agreement, “but I can give it a try.” You step back and rear up, kicking the door where Haechan pointed as hard as you can. 

The sound is embarrassingly loud and the black shoe print on your door is only a testament to your failed attempt to gain access to your apartment. 

Haechan snickers loudly from beside you, and you turn to him, eyes narrowed.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, holding his hands up in the air defensively. “It was an impressive kick, though.” 

You straighten up slightly at the compliment, smoothing down your jacket. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says sincerely. “You’ve got a lot of power in those legs.” 

“Thanks,” you hum thoughtfully.

“What are you even doing out so late? It’s not safe to be out alone at this hour.” Haechan asks, and you huff in defeat.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to go for a walk to de-stress, y’know? Clear my head.” you sigh. 

“I see,” he remarks, taking a sip from his can as he leans against the wall beside your door. “Well, how’d that work out for you?” His tone is teasing, and when you turn to glare at him, the playful look on his face makes it impossible for you to maintain the disdainful expression. 

“Not great,” you mutter, smiling despite your situation.

“Well, y’know, if you wanna come in until one of your roommates wakes up, you’re more than welcome,” Haechan offers, jerking his chin in the direction of his door.

“That’s a very nice offer,” you say appreciatively. “Why are you awake, actually?”

“I don’t like to sleep.” Haechan answers, shrugging.

You blink at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he chirps. “Sleep makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.”

“The FOMO runs strong in you, I see.” You offer a wry smile which he returns and you lean your back against your front door beside him. Looking over at you, he pushes off of the wall and turns so he’s standing in front of you. 

You really wish he hadn’t done that, actually, because now you’re forced to confront how unfairly handsome he is, and you suspect Haechan knows that, given the way his eyebrow arches attractively. 

“Think about it this way,” he shifts closer to you slightly, his tongue running over his bottom lip, “I would’ve missed out on getting to talk to you tonight if I was sleeping.”

“Very true,” you muse with a small smile, and he grins. “Didn’t know that my company is worth staying up for.” 

“Of course it is,” he scoffs. “Who else is gonna stare at me when she thinks I’m not looking?” His words freeze you in place, your expression resembling a deer in headlights before he laughs to break the tension. “I’m teasing.” 

“Oh,” you mumble, but you both know there’s truth to his words; your face doesn’t hide your emotions well at all, and you’re surprised you’ve managed to go this long without looking at him and practically swooning. 

“Cute,” he says softly, eyes scanning your face.

Before you even get to comment on the unexpected compliment, your door unlocks and you spring forward just in time to avoid falling back as it opens. A very sleepy, very cranky Mijoo stands in your doorway, eyes barely open as she holds the door open for you. 

In your haste to get off of the door, you fail to realize your surroundings, lurching forward and directly into Haechan’s personal space. Your chests are but a breath away from touching, and he chuckles, bracing you with both hands on your hips. The cold condensation of his can seeps into the hem of your shirt and you swallow hard as you look up at him sheepishly. 

“Sorry about that,” you mumble, stepping back slightly, realizing a moment later that Haechan still hasn’t released your hips. He seems to notice when you do, clearing his throat and dropping his hands back to his sides with a small smile. 

Turning to thank Mijoo, you notice that she’s already left, presumably having shuffled off to her bedroom to resume her sleep, leaving the door slightly ajar with a slipper.

“Glad you got in,” he remarks, gesturing behind you at your apartment, and you nod in appreciation.

“Thanks for, uh, keeping me company.” you say with a bashful smile. 

“No problem.” He walks backwards to his front door, opening it without looking, and raises two fingers to his brow in a mock salute.

“Good night.” You bid him goodbye with a wave, turning to head into your apartment before he calls your name, prompting you to turn back around. “Yeah?”

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” He sounds, if you’re not crazy, like he’s flirting with you, and your eyes widen as he lifts his brows in a playful wiggle.

“Okay,” you agree with an almost robotic nod, and he grins before turning and heading into his apartment, prompting you to follow suit.

When the door’s shut and locked, you let out a long exhale, finally letting your giddy squeals bubble up out of you. 

He called you cute. He called you cute and he touched your hips, and he was so close—

Okay, maybe the Embarrassment Richter Scale would classify that as a 4 instead—points were docked because it may have actually worked out in your favor somewhat.

You haven’t really fulfilled your promise of not being a stranger with Haechan; he still makes your heart skip a nervous little beat every time he grins at you from across a room or waves at you in passing. 

He, however, is doing a great job of not being a stranger with your roommates, both of them regaling you with funny things Haechan has told them in various conversations. Chuu works with Haechan at the bookstore, as it turns out, and Mijoo just has a convenient schedule, running into your handsome neighbor more often than you do.

Are you bitter? No. Absolutely not. Are you jealous? Not in the slightest. 

Are you lying about both of those things? Yes, entirely.

You’re heading out of your apartment to the grocery store, locking the door behind you when you hear the door across the hall open.

Turning to see who it is, your eyes widen and a giddy little smile tugs at your lips as Haechan looks you up and down.

“Well, look who it is,” Haechan greets you, and your smile widens. 

“Hi, Haechan.” you say softly, attempting to sound as casual as possible.

“Where are you headed?”

“The grocery store,” you explain, showing him your tote bag filled with reusable shopping bags.

“What a coincidence,” he muses, stepping closer to you. “So am I?”

“Really?” you say in surprise, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, stepping even closer to you. He’s close enough now that you can smell the warm, cozy scent of his cologne. “You didn’t keep your promise,” he points out, frowning very attractively at you.

“About not being a stranger?” you ask, and he nods, his frown deepening. 

As cute as he is like that, you don’t think you ever want to be the reason he frowns again. 

“You can make it up to me if you wanna,” he suggests, a playful lilt to his voice, and you raise an eyebrow suspiciously.

“How’s that?”

“Be my shopping buddy for today.” 

You pretend to think about it, smiling when he looks at you expectantly. “Okay.”

“Great! We can take my car.” 

“Oh, thank God. I was gonna walk.”

“Aren’t you lucky to have me?” He grins and gestures down the hall for you to walk with him.

“Something like that,” you mumble under your breath, Haechan thankfully not hearing you.

The ride to the store is pleasant, Haechan playing music in the car—almost exclusively Michael Jackson, to be specific, with the inclusion of some other artists—and you two talk the whole time, never a lull in the conversation as you learn more about each other.

He works at the bookstore a couple blocks down from the record store you work at, likes playing video games and listening to music, and is, on top of an incessant flirt, a very attentive listener.

You two make your way through the store gradually, your shared cart filled with various frozen goods and produce items. You’re in the fruits section, inspecting bags of mandarins to find the best bunch, when you both start to speak.

“Hey, I just thought—”

“You know what’s so—”

You both stop talking at the same time, laughing before you gesture for him to speak.

“I was just thinking about how you work at the record store; do you guys have this one Michael Jackson vinyl? It’s limited edition, so you probably don’t, but—”

“What’s it look like?” you ask, and he pulls up a picture on his phone, showing you and looking at you hopefully.

“I can’t say no for sure, because I haven’t checked. I’ll check and let you know!” you assure him, and he smiles in relief.

“That’d be awesome. I’ve been looking for it everywhere. What were you gonna say?”

“I was gonna say that it’s so sick that produce companies put mandarins and other orange citruses in orange netted bags to make them look more appealing.” you huff, inspecting the bag you’re holding more carefully. 

“It’s sneaky,” Haechan agrees with a small smile as he watches you.

“It’s deceitful!” you exclaim indignantly, and he snorts, barely biting back his laughter. “I’m serious!” You frown, and he hums sympathetically.

“I understand.” He pats your shoulder gently, his hand lingering for a moment before dropping, his fingers grazing your arm on the way down. 

“I think these are good.” you finally decide, placing your bag in the cart, and Haechan quickly looks over the mandarins, plucking a bag of his own and placing it in the bottom of the cart. “You like mandarins, too?”

“Love them,” he confirms, and you smile, pleasantly surprised. “Do you have anything else on your list?”

“Nope; you?”

“Nope. Let’s go to the check-out aisle?” He gestures towards the front of the store, and you nod, walking beside him as you both push the cart. (Well, truthfully, Haechan is doing all the pushing; your hands are on the bar for decoration, essentially.)

When you get to the front aisle, a familiar voice calls your name and you crane your head to find the source.

“I think it’s Mijoo,” Haechan murmurs, also looking around. 

Do you bristle slightly at the thought that he recognized your friend’s voice before you did? No, absolutely not. And you’re definitely not lying to yourself right now.

You find her in aisle six, loading up your groceries on the conveyor belt and separating them with the divider as you greet Mijoo.

“How’s work?” you ask curiously, and she frowns deeply. “Oh, no.”

“I just got yelled at by some old lady who got mad I wouldn’t take her expired coupons. They expired four months ago.” Her face is deadpan, and you wince.

“Damn,” you sigh sympathetically as she scans your groceries. “If you want her to suffer, give me a call.”

She snorts loudly, putting in her employee code so you’ll get a discount on the groceries, and looks at you with an amused but unimpressed stare. “What are you gonna do?”

“Steal her cane or something, I don’t know.” 

“That’s evil,” Mijoo giggles, gesturing for you to pay. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

“You left something in the cart,” Haechan calls to you, and you frown, turning back to check. He shifts to take your place as you check before saying, “Oh, sorry, I think that’s mine, actually.” He smiles sheepishly, and you wave him off gently, turning back to the pin pad to see “Transaction Approved!” You turn to look at Haechan, who’s putting his card away, and shoot him an incredulous stare.

“What?” He’s grinning cheekily at you, and you splutter awkwardly.

“Did you just pay for my groceries?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he replies smoothly, and you narrow your eyes, looking over at Mijoo for support.

She raises her hands in surrender, looking down at her scanner. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“Traitor!” you whisper incredulously, and she frowns at you.

“Sorry.” 

You direct your narrowed-eyed gaze to Haechan for a moment and then shuffle to the bagging section, carefully packing up your groceries as Haechan checks out his groceries. As they come down the conveyor belt, you package his things up too, and he smiles gratefully at you as he makes his way to you. 

You catch him giving Mijoo a fist bump and murmuring, “Thanks,” as you’re finishing up the bagging, and you huff petulantly, loading up everything into the cart.

You bid Mijoo goodbye and head out of the store, walking to Haechan’s car and starting to take things out of the cart as he opens the trunk.

“You’re pretty close with my roommates,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, side-eyeing Haechan.

“Not really,” he dismisses you. “I work with Chuu at the bookstore, and I really just see Mijoo in passing.”

“Well, you guys were all buddy-buddy just now,” you point out, trying your best to hide the jealousy creeping into your tone. 

Your attempt fails, if Haechan raising his eyebrow in amusement is any indication. 

“Are you…jealous?” Haechan asks with a smile, and your eyes widen. 

“No!” you yelp, clutching a bag to your chest almost protectively. “I am not.”

“You totally are,” he snickers, and your brows furrow. “It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute,” you counter, “because I am not jealous.”

“Oh, yeah?” Poking his tongue into his cheek and grinning at you, his casually attractive appearance practically takes your breath away.

“Yeah,” you mumble weakly. “I totally don’t mind that you talk to my roommates more than you talk to me. Doesn’t bother me at all.” Haechan doesn’t respond for a moment, giving you the opportunity to place the last bag in the trunk of the car. When you shut the trunk and turn around, you jolt in surprise at his sudden proximity, the two of you almost face to face, and he chuckles at your reaction before refocusing his gaze on your eyes.

“What if I said I was only befriending them to get close to you?” He raises his eyebrows with a flirtatious little wiggle, and you swallow thickly, looking down to break eye contact. Apparently, he doesn’t intend to give you a break anytime soon, ducking down slightly to lock eyes with you again. “Hm?”

“I’d ignore all of that,” you say slowly, carefully controlling the nervous yet excited tremor in your voice, “to ask why your face is this close to mine.”

“Why?” His eyes are alight with glee as he backs you up against the car slowly, and you gulp. “Does it make you nervous?”

“No,” you huff.

“You’re lying.”

“I am not lying!” you lie.

He raises his eyebrows again as if to say, “is that so?” He leans closer to you, now focused unwaveringly on your mouth, and wets his lips. You both stand frozen in place for a moment before he leans in closer and you break, yelping in panic before ducking so the crown of your head rests against his chest.

He calls your name softly and you shake your head, whining quietly in protest. He matches your tone, whining your name plaintively as he gently shakes your shoulders, and you peek up at him to see him grinning down at you.

“Told you.” He shoots you a smug upwards flick of his eyebrows before backing up to give you a moment of relief. “Now come on, the frozen stuff is gonna thaw.” When you don’t move at first, still stuck in place from the intimate moment you two just shared, he snickers and reaches for your hand, leading you to the passenger door, which he opens for you, waiting for you to get in. 

Your body finally listens to you, sitting down in the passenger seat and strapping yourself in, and he shuts the door before making his way over to the driver’s side and getting in. He straps in and starts the car, looking over to you.

“You ready?”

You nod. “Ready.”

He smiles. “Then off we go.”

“Hey,” Haechan nudges you as you’re unloading the trunk, “I bet I can carry up more groceries than you.” 

“No way.” you laugh, and his eyes light up as he grins before hurriedly snatching as many bags as his arms and hands can hold. “Haechan, there are eggs in here!” you warn in alarm as you grab bags quickly, swatting his hands away when he reaches for any bag you’ve set your sights on. 

He shuts the trunk and locks the car before standing in front of you proudly. He’s definitely got you beat, holding no less than six bags of groceries, most of them being your reusable bags. 

“You cheated,” you grumble bitterly, and he just grins and jerks his head towards the building.

“C’mon,” he says softly, walking towards the entrance. You walk after him and he says, “Do you know the real reason why I wanted to have that competition?”

“Because you’re competitive and wanted to see me meet my demise?” You look over at him, and he laughs before shaking his head.

“I wanted an excuse to be a gentleman and take your groceries up for you.” He holds the front door open for you, and you walk through, murmuring a “thank you.”

“Well, that’s very sweet,” you mumble sheepishly as you press the elevator button and avoid his gaze, and he shrugs, smiling.

“I’m a very sweet guy,” he says with a nod, and you nod slowly, looking him up and down. The elevator doors open and you both step in, Haechan pressing the button for your floor and leaning against the back wall as the doors slide shut. “What is it?” He looks over at you curiously, chuckling when he sees you smiling.

“Usually, sweet people don’t need to say they’re sweet, y’know.” 

He looks up thoughtfully before nodding in agreement and looking back down at you. “Maybe I can show you how sweet I am, then.”

You can’t help but feel like he’s hinting at something else, but you push the thought from your mind and meet his gaze once more.

“Maybe you can.” The elevator dings and the doors slide open, Haechan gesturing for you to exit and following after you. A thought comes to you as you set your groceries down to find your keys and you turn to him once more. “Haechan?”

“Mm?”

“Was your plan to hold my groceries partially so I’d have to let you into my apartment to unload them?”

“No,” he says truthfully. “I did plan on seeing you for longer, though, so now you have to figure out which bags are yours and which are mine.” He grins proudly, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I bagged them separately.” 

His face falls slightly, and you think you might hate that. “Oh.”

“But you wanna know something?” You’re quick to follow up in an attempt to comfort him, and he looks at you curiously. “I used my bags on everything, so…technically…”

“My stuff is in your bags.” His smile returns to his face and your muscles relax slightly in relief. “So…technically…”

“You and I have to unload all this stuff,” you say slowly, feigning a pout. “And who knows how long that’s gonna take?”

“Looks like we’re gonna be spending a bit more time together, yeah?” He’s grinning at you, stepping closer so the fronts of your shoes are touching, and you can’t help but mirror his smile, turning away abruptly to unlock your door.

“I guess so.”

As you, Mijoo, and Chuu become better acquainted with your handsome neighbors across the hall, you get closer and closer until hanging out with them is almost second nature. At this point, you’re no stranger to coming home and finding your neighbors and roommates sprawled around the living room; hell, you’ve often joined them if work hasn’t left you entirely drained.

You’re not even a stranger to the heated debates over nothingness that your friends often start fights about; you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, and often storm off to your room in a grandiose huff when your opinion is shot down.

(If you’re being honest, sometimes you’ll take the smallest opening to retreat to your room once you feel your social battery depleting, but you don’t plan on admitting that any time soon.)

This afternoon, when you unlock your front door, sounds of yelling greet you as you step into the apartment and kick your shoes off.

“You’re home!” Mijoo yells in relief, running into the entryway and beaming at you. “Just in time.”

“Time for what?” you ask warily, and more footsteps come rushing towards you as Chuu approaches rapidly.

“If a dog wore pants—”

“You’re cheating! Let her get in here first!” Renjun yells from the living room.

Chuu rolls her eyes. “If a dog wore pants—as a matter of fact, come here and show them.” She takes your hand and pulls you into the living room, where Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin sit in various spots. 

You lock eyes with Haechan, who grins and flicks his brows upwards as a greeting, and you snort quietly in amusement, smiling at him. 

“If a dog wore pants,” Chuu stresses, shaking your hand to get your attention, “how would it look?”

You snicker. “This is what you’re fighting about?”

“Yes, ma’am. Now answer the question.” 

“On its back paws,” you answer easily, and Chuu, Haechan, Jaemin, and Renjun exclaim triumphantly as Mijoo cries out in despair. “Mijoo, you’re kidding, right?”

“No! He has four legs!” she defends herself emphatically, and you shake your head vigorously.

“But the front two function as hands! You don’t put pants on your hands!”

“But they walk on all fours!”

“But if you handed a dog a ball, it would never try to grab it with its back two paws! Because those are its feet-feet, not its hands-feet!”

“I feel so betrayed,” Mijoo wails, rubbing her hand over her face.

“I mean, it’s okay!” You attempt to cheer her up, and she looks at you with a frown. “You’re entitled to your opinion—no matter how wrong it is.” You grin teasingly and you can hear Haechan snicker loudly from his chair.

“You little—”

“Who else had a wrong opinion they wanna share?” You change the topic, dodging when Mijoo launches a pillow at you. It hits the lamp instead, which falls and hits the wall, leaving a scuff mark. “That better buff out,” you warn a now sheepish looking Mijoo. “I am not losing my security deposit over something as silly as this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mutters petulantly, and you pat her shoulder comfortingly. 

“Is that all you’ve been talking about?” you laugh as you make your way into the kitchen, washing your hands and grabbing the bag of mandarins, bringing them back into the living room with you.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Renjun sighs, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Eventful.” you say sarcastically, Haechan calling your name and catching your attention.

“Come sit with me,” Haechan offers, scooting over to create space for you in the armchair. The gesture is sweet, but there definitely isn’t enough space for both of you, so you settle for perching on the arm of the seat, draping your arm over the back of the chair.

Haechan rests his cheek on your thigh, looking up at you expectantly, and you lightly scratch the crown of his head in greeting.

“Hi,” he murmurs as the rest of your friends launch into another discussion about who knows what. 

“Hey,” you reply softly, smiling down at him. 

“Are you retreating into your room today?” Haechan frowns slightly as he asks, and you think about it before giving a small nod. “Why?” he complains, dragging the word out and shaking your knee rapidly.

“I’m tired,” you match his whiny cadence, scratching his scalp more in lieu of an apology. “You can come if you want.”

He perks up immediately, looking up at you in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna sleep, I’m just gonna relax.” you reply, and he nods eagerly, sitting up and offering you his hand.

“C’mon!” He’s practically bouncing in his seat with excitement and you have to bite back a laugh as you take his hand and stand up, leading him to your room. 

“Wh—how come you’re going in her room with her?” Jaemin complains as you leave the living room.

“The vibes are better,” Haechan calls over his shoulder and you snicker, opening your door and tossing the bag of mandarins on your bed.

“You wait here; I wanna change.” You go through your drawers to pull out a more comfortable shirt and Haechan lies down on your bed, eyes taking in the entirety of your bedroom. 

“Okay,” he hums peacefully, closing his eyes with a smile. 

You go into the bathroom and change out of your blouse and into your t-shirt, leaving your jeans on and tossing your shirt in the hamper on your way back to your room. 

“Welcome back,” Haechan greets you when you shut the door behind you, opening his eyes to look at you. His gaze lingers on you for a few moments longer than you were expecting, his lips curling into a grin when you shift awkwardly and turn away from him. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, sitting on your bed and picking up your phone and a mandarin. “You can play music, by the way; my speaker system is the one with my name.”

Haechan nods and, as he’s setting up his connection to your speaker, says, “I was gonna ask; how was your day today?”

“It sucked, kinda. Well, I’m being dramatic, but my coworker was getting on my nerves.” you huff, and Haechan hums sympathetically. Selecting a song, he gets comfortable as the music filters in through the speakers. “I should have known you’d play Michael Jackson,” you chuckle fondly, and he smiles sheepishly.

“I love his music.” He frowns defensively, and you pat his hand gently.

“I know! I don’t blame you—he’s got an impressive discography.” you assure him, and you can see him relax slightly in your peripheral vision. Looking over at him, he’s got a relieved, content smile on his lips, his hooded eyes regarding you curiously.

“Tell me about your coworker?” he asks after a moment, and you pause mid-peeling of your mandarin. 

“She’s just a micro-manager,” you huff, peeling the rest of the rind off and launching into your spiel. “She always tries to tell me what to do, but—I mean, I don’t, like, get paid to listen to her of all people, y’know?”

“I do know,” Haechan agrees, nodding in understanding. “That’s super annoying, actually.”

“It is!” you gripe before softening slightly and turning to Haechan. “Want some?” You hand him a piece of your mandarin, and he brightens, taking it gratefully and popping it into his mouth. 

You two sit there for ages, to your surprise, talking about everything and nothing, from Haechan’s lazy slacker coworker to philosophical debates such as whether you’d rather be really small or really big (you’re both team little, for stealth purposes), sharing piece after piece of mandarin until your bed is practically covered in rinds and the pleasant smell of citrus lingers in the room.

“I like hanging out in your room,” Haechan muses thoughtfully, looking over at you.

“I’m glad,” you smile widely. “There are perks, y’know?”

“Yeah, there are snacks, good conversation, good music—and,” Haechan murmurs, his voice lowering ever so slightly in pitch as he studies your face, “I get a pretty view,” his voice softens to a whisper as he watches your lips, slowly wetting his own.

Your heart could just about beat out of your chest from the compliment, and the way he’s looking at your lips has your breath faltering, teeth anxiously nibbling at your bottom lip as you watch him watching you.

“Thanks,” you mumble quietly, and he nods, still studying your lips.

If you’re not crazy, it kind of seems like he’s about to lean in, and you brace yourself for impact, your eyelids drooping slightly in anticipation. Just as you expected, he breathes in softly, leans in closer, tilting his head to the side, and—

A knock on your door makes you flinch and him freeze, a small sigh leaving his lips as he pulls back and jerks his chin towards the door, reminding you there’s someone waiting.

“Come in!” you call, and Chuu and Jaemin poke their heads into your room curiously.

“We’re ordering food; do you guys want anything?” Chuu offers, and you look at each other before nodding in agreement. “Cool; come put in your orders soon!”

“We’ll be right out,” Haechan assures them, and Chuu removes her head from the doorway, probably heading down the hall.

Jaemin scrutinizes you two carefully, making your skin crawl anxiously as he regards you with suspicion. 

“Can I help you?” you ask with a frown, desperately hoping you don’t look as guilty as you feel. 

“Kinda thought you two would be—never mind.” Jaemin says cryptically, giving you both one last once-over before leaving your room and shutting your door.

You two are silent, the only sound in the room being the music playing in the background, and you can barely bring yourself to look at Haechan, already very aware that he’s looking at you.

“Wanna go get some food?” he breaks the silence, and you nod immediately, grasping at the topic shift like a lifeline.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Oh, damn,” Haechan’s sympathetic wince sounds out from behind you and you turn to look at him, hissing and turning back around as water starts to drip towards your elbow. “They put you on dish duty tonight, I see.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, shooting him a frown over your shoulder. “Woe is me.” 

“Poor baby,” he coos playfully, shrugging off his jacket and placing it on the island counter. Before you can either attempt to recuperate from the pet name or ask what he’s up to, he nudges you aside and picks up the spare dish cloth. “Don’t worry; Haechan is here to help.”

“My hero,” you joke, pretending to swoon, and he laughs as he soaps up his cloth and starts washing a plate. “No, but I do appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses you casually. “I was actually looking for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. “Why’s that?”

“I wanna get your opinion on something.” Haechan says slowly, carefully, and you nod, a silent sign for him to continue. “Well, I have this friend,” Haechan starts off, monitoring your expression out of the corner of his eye. “He’s really into this girl, but he doesn’t know if he should go for it or not.”

“Hm. Does the girl seem interested?” you ask, trying to get a better sense of the situation, and Haechan pauses, looking at you again and chuckling as he shakes his head.

“He can’t fully tell,” he answers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he sets the plate down and picks up a bowl. “She’s a little clueless.”

“Maybe tell your friend to give it some time to get a better idea of where she’s at.” you suggest, and Haechan nods slowly, thinking it over.

“But here’s the thing,” Haechan adds, “I—my friend wants to kiss this girl so badly.”

“Aw,” you hum sympathetically. “Poor guy.”

“Yeah, poor guy,” Haechan mumbles, and you become very aware of the fact that he’s staring right at the side of your face. 

You fixate on a piece of food stuck on the plate you’re washing, scrubbing at the spot vigorously to do away with your nerves.

Haechan pushes away from the sink, drying his hands and leaning against the island behind you, his still detectable, very probing stare sending shivers down your spine.

“He really wants to kiss her, y’know.” he stresses, and you pause because, for one of the first times in your adult life, you think you’re finally starting to get the hint.

“Yeah?” The word feels like it’s stuck in your throat, your heart rate picking up considerably as the poor thing thuds away in your chest. 

“Mhm,” Haechan confirms, his voice lilting as if trying to lead someone to an answer. “He thinks about it all the time.”

“Maybe she wants him to kiss her,” you murmur, and you could swear Haechan’s breathing stops, at least for a moment. He says nothing for an uncomfortably long time, your words hanging in the air between you two.

“Yeah?” His voice is soft, testing the waters, and you can’t bring yourself to speak, your rapidly beating heart migrating up into your throat. 

You nod.

He’s silent for what feels like ages, then he’s calling your name quietly, but urgently. His voice sounds significantly closer and the thought of being so close to him at a time like this has excitement bubbling inside of you.

“Hm?” Your response comes out as a squeak, to your utter embarrassment, but as Haechan places his hands on your hips and slowly turns you to face him, you get the sense that he might not be too focused on that.

He searches your eyes for something—you don’t know what—and, seemingly satisfied, his intent, determined gaze drops slowly to your lips. He takes a step closer, and another, his chest brushing against yours with every breath either of you take. 

You swallow thickly, instinctively moving with him as he backs you up against the kitchen sink.

“Haechan?” you call breathlessly.

His gaze doesn’t move from your lips, his own mouth curling into a small smirk. “Mm?”

“Why are you so close?” you ask, the anticipation reaching its boiling point.

He finally looks away from your mouth, meeting your eyes as he speaks with a raised eyebrow and a flirtatious little grin. “I can’t kiss you from anywhere else, can I?”

There, with soapy water dripping down your forearms and onto the floor and the faint chatter of your friends in the other room, Haechan kisses you for the first time. 

His lips are warm and soft, and his hands are still slightly damp as one cups the side of your neck, thumb gently stroking your cheek, and the other presses against the small of your back, drawing you in closer. 

As your lips move against the other’s, you come to your senses slightly and regain control of your body, wrapping one arm around his neck before pulling back quickly in realization.

His eyes are still closed for a fleeting moment after the kiss, lips parted slightly before he opens his eyes and regards you curiously. 

“My hands,” you mumble before he has a chance to misread the situation, wiping them on your jeans hurriedly as your eyes fixate on a drop of water on the floor to avoid looking at him, “they’re all wet. From the sink water—”

Haechan calls your name with a laugh on the tip of his tongue, and you drag your gaze to meet his.

“Yes?”

“I don’t care about that.” he assures you, pulling you back in and slotting his lips with yours. “Just kiss me.” It’s mumbled into and against your mouth, just like your responding nervous (but excited) giggle into and against his own, but it’s understood all the same, and you do. 

You do kiss him again—and again—and again, until you manage to separate from him long enough to turn off the sink water—and again, as he hooks his index finger through one of the front belt loops on your jeans and pulls you in closer, his other hand squeezing your hip—and once more, before the sound of footsteps coming towards the kitchen finally forces you two apart.

Haechan’s cheeks are reddened, yours are blazing with heat, neither of you can stop smiling, and the room is filled with tension so palpable that Mijoo and Renjun look between the two of you in confusion, sharing a bewildered glance between themselves before placing their dishes in the sink and exiting the kitchen.

(And then you kiss him again.)

Late one night, you’re awake in bed, scrolling through social media apps mindlessly, when a text comes in on your phone.

haechan: are you awake

you: no

haechan: ha ha very funny

haechan: i’m bored

you: me too

haechan: keep me company :)

haechan: come over

you: no it’s 3am

haechan: so? come over

you: i’m cozy i’m not moving

haechan: stubborn ass

you: :( mean

haechan: don’t worry i actually love your ass

you: :O that’s not very platonic of you

haechan: come over and i’ll show you just how not-platonic i can get

you: i’m not moving

haechan: UGH

you: :p sorry !! i have snacks in here i’m never leaving

haechan: …what kinds of snacks

You have a feeling you know where this is heading, so you muster the energy to get out of bed and head to your front door, unlocking it and heading back to your room.

you: come over and find out

haechan: gimme a sec

There’s radio silence for several minutes, then you hear a knock on the front door.

you: it’s unlocked :) 

Despite the preparation you took for his arrival, you decide to get up and meet him, heading down the hall to see him shutting the door behind himself, locking the door and kicking off his slides.

“Hi,” you say with a smile, and he frowns at you in disapproval, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the door. “What?”

“You know how risky it is to leave your door unlocked?” Haechan asks as you get closer to him. 

“It was unlocked for a total of fifteen minutes, max.” You roll your eyes, letting out a chuckle.

“So? That’s more than enough time.”

“Time for what, exactly?”

“Enough time for someone to sneak in here and,” Haechan focuses on your lips, staring at them as he continues in a softer, more suggestive voice, “have their way with you.”

You smile, amused, and make a show of looking all around. Leaning in, you whisper, “Haechan, you’re the only one here; are you planning to have your way with me?” 

Haechan grins mischievously. “That’s a secret.” When you gasp and push his shoulder, he laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding!”

“Sure,” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. “C’mon, it’s cold in here and the heat’s on in my room.” He follows you into the kitchen, cheering silently when you grab the produce bag of mandarins and head to your room. Kicking off your slippers, you climb onto your bed, Haechan following suit, and sit cross-legged, placing the bag of mandarins in front of you. 

Haechan sits in front of you as you reach for a mandarin, peeling it with ease and separating a piece, offering it to Haechan. He takes it readily, chewing contently as he peels a mandarin of his own, offering you a piece of his. 

You’re not entirely sure why you two are swapping pieces as opposed to just eating your respective mandarins, but you figure there’s something tender about sharing the fruit with each other.

“What was keeping you up tonight?” you ask curiously, offering him another piece. 

“Hm?” He looks up at you, handing you the mandarin piece he just separated. 

“Your FOMO,” you remind him, and he grins as he thinks back to your first real conversation on the night you got locked out. “What did you not wanna miss out on tonight?”

“Talking to you,” he coos flirtatiously, and you roll your eyes and scoff in amusement. 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious!”

“You didn’t even know I was up!”

“That was the point of texting you. If you hadn’t answered, I would’ve just gone to bed.” he counters, and your cheeks warm at how endearing it is that he was waiting to talk to you.

“Cute.” you mumble, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise, grinning and leaning closer to you. You groan with a laugh, and stuff your last piece of mandarin in his mouth. “Shut up.”

“Hey!”

“No talking with your mouth full,” you point out, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully before chewing it and focusing on pulling the last bits of pith off of his last piece of mandarin.

“Open,” Haechan murmurs, bringing the piece to your mouth. You give him a funny look, but he nods in confirmation and wiggles the piece, dropping it in his haste but managing to catch it before it lands. His index finger’s half punctured it, juice from the section dripping down his finger to the knuckle, and he frowns (very cutely, you might add) and moves to put it in his mouth instead.

You don’t know what possesses you. Maybe the universe’s pushing you to finally do something about all the tension that’s built up between you two. Whatever it is, you suppose you owe it a thank you.

You catch his hand halfway to his mouth and steer it towards yours instead. He raises an eyebrow, looking from his hand to you curiously, and you swallow thickly.

The bead of juice drips down ever so slightly, as if reminding you to make your move, and so you do. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you take the mandarin piece into your mouth, pushing it to the inside of your cheek, and lick the droplet off of his finger, halting when your tongue reaches his fingertip and looking at him for a sign of something, anything.

His eyes have a wild glint to them and he looks up from your mouth to your eyes, raising both eyebrows this time in a silent challenge.

You suck his finger into your mouth, and he groans under his breath, shifting closer to you as he watches his finger disappear between your lips. 

The look in his eyes—like he’s about to lunge at you, frankly—and his slightly parted lips work together to wipe your mind blank, your eyes glazing over as you suck on his finger. Meeting his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, you swirl your tongue around the digit and he hisses, leaning in so closely your noses are almost touching.

His attention shifts between your mouth and your eyes rapidly, slowly wetting his bottom lip and tucking it between his teeth. Experimentally, he pulls his finger back slightly and you truly don’t know what comes over you but you whine, sucking slightly harder.

He pulls his finger out of your mouth and raises his eyebrows at your disappointed, slightly dazed expression. He shifts back slightly, as if remembering the situation you two are in, and you take the opportunity to chew and swallow the piece of mandarin stuffed in your cheek.

“Don’t give me that look.” His voice is low and dangerously soft, the warning more than prevalent. 

“What look?” It’s a struggle to say it without sounding breathy or whiny, but you manage, mentally patting yourself on the back. 

“Don’t play dumb,” he warns you, “you know exactly what you’re doing.”

You don’t, actually. You kind of wish you did. Maybe you’d have a better idea of what he’s thinking.

Haechan looks down to the side, staring at your comforter hosting the mandarin rinds, and starts to speak. “You know, I don’t wanna ruin our friendship, but I keep thinking about our kiss the other week.”

You don’t blame him; it’s shifted your relationship subtly but noticeably and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t frequently occupying your mind. Ever since that evening and the kisses you two shared, you couldn’t stop thinking about how he held you, his taste, his smell, the almost desperate way your lips kept connecting, the way his smile felt against your mouth—

“Ruin it.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears you all the same, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he stares at your lips. He leans closer, moving his body towards yours as he brings himself within kissing distance, and a tremble of excitement travels down your spine as you do the same.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” Haechan confesses in a hushed murmur, and you nod encouragingly, reaching up and tentatively placing your hand on the side of his neck.

“Do it.”

And he does. Surging forward, he connects your lips in a feverish kiss—he tastes faintly of mandarin on his tongue, sweet and bright and tangy all in one and you whine into his mouth as he leans over you, pressing your back into your mattress. 

His lips move with yours desperately, his hands clutching at your sides and pulling you against him, his hips pushing yours into the mattress as he sucks on your bottom lip and groans sinfully. Your fingers curl in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to you and parting your legs for him to settle between them.

He takes the invitation immediately, resting between your legs as his kisses grow needier and deeper, his tongue flicking against yours before he parts from you, propping himself up on his hands as he breathes heavily, looking down at you with that wild-eyed gaze from earlier.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your free hand gripping the front of his shirt as you try to pull him back down to you. 

Shaking his head, he swallows thickly and says, “I think that if we keep going,” his tongue swiping over his lips, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“Who said I want you to stop?” You tilt your head to the side curiously, and he pauses, looking at you with a brow raised questioningly. He scans your face, you shooting him an expectant look and tugging on his shirt impatiently, before inhaling sharply and leaning back down to kiss you again.

“You are so—” he mumbles distractedly, kissing you fervently and nipping at your lip gently. 

“So?” you press curiously, gasping when his lips trail down from yours to your jaw to your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin.

“Dangerous,” he finishes, muffled from his ministrations on your neck, one hand squeezing your hip and gliding it up and down your side comfortingly. “Can we take this off?” he tugs at the hem of your sleep shirt, looking up at you hopefully.

“Yeah,” you agree, and he grins, pushing the shirt up past your chest. You sit up slightly so you can pull it off your torso, laughing when Haechan’s expectant smiling face reappears after the shirt’s done blocking your view.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Haechan,” you laugh, pulling him back to you with one hand as your other tosses your shirt off the bed. 

“Have I ever told you that I love when you say my name?” Haechan’s lips resume kissing down your neck, sucking at a spot just above your collarbones.

“No,” you breathe, your inhale catching in your throat when his lips kiss lower to your chest, his hands pushing your breasts together and covering the exposed flesh in kisses. His tongue gliding in your cleavage, he sucks at a spot just above your bra, one hand slipping under you to unclip it.

“Love it so much,” he groans, pulling your bra off hurriedly and discarding it before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it slowly.

“Feels so good, Haechan,” you sigh happily, running your fingers through his hair as he sucks on the stiffened bud, one hand kneading your breast as he teases your nipple with his tongue.

He pulls back from you slightly, using the tip of his tongue to flick at your nipple, his hand leaving your breast and snaking down your stomach to slip into your shorts. When his fingers graze your clit over your underwear, you whine lowly and rock your hips up into his hand.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Haechan mumbles around your breast with a grin, his middle and ring fingers tracing around your clit teasingly.

“Yeah,” you half-exhale, half-whimper, attempting to angle your hips just right so his fingers press against the sensitive button. He chuckles at your efforts and complies, pressing against your clit and rubbing circles into it.

The room is filled with the sounds of your labored breathing and small moans, as well as the wet noises of Haechan sucking on your nipples, switching between breasts by kissing along your chest.

Growing impatient, Haechan pushes his hand into your underwear, the palm of his hand pressing against your clit as two fingers tease your entrance. When you whine plaintively, he obliges, pushing the two digits into you slowly.

Your hips lift up off of the bed and push down towards his fingers, somehow both avoiding and leaning into his touch, and he tsks quietly in disapproval, guiding your hips back down onto the bed as his fingers keep pushing in until they’re buried inside of you.

“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, leaning up to kiss you deeply, his fingers curling as he pumps them in and out and gradually builds up a rhythm that has your breath coming in short gasps. “Feel so good around my fingers, baby.” Haechan coos sweetly, tongue trailing along your lip.

“Haechan, faster,” you urge, walls tightening around his fingers and making him hiss. “Go faster—”

“Like this?” he teases lightly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth gently and tugging it as his fingers speed up, fingers curling into a spot along your inner walls that makes you cry out weakly, clutching his arm to brace yourself. “Yeah, like that,” he mutters more so to himself, grinning and releasing your lip in favor of kissing your neck. 

His fingers are skilled and controlled, but his kisses are nothing short of a frenzy, his mouth seeming to attempt to cover as much ground as possible and coax you over the edge. It’s working, frankly, as your peak approaches and you grind down on his palm pressed against your clit, the added sensation dizzying.

“So close,” you moan, biting your lip to muffle the noises you desperately want to let out, and Haechan nips sharply at your neck, making you wince and pull back to look at him.

“Wanna hear you,” he murmurs.

“But—my roommates—”

“I don’t care.” He grins at you mischievously, his pace speeding up and making wet noises sound out from where his fingers disappear into you.

“Haechan—oh, shit,” you shudder as your climax hits, whining his name loudly as pleasure floods through your body, ebbing and flowing like tidal waves. Your nails digging into his arm, he winces slightly but keeps finger-fucking you until you’re pushing his arm away in a desperate attempt to protect your sensitive clit. “Too much!”

“Aw, c’mon, you can give me another one,” he taunts, and you shake your head, wrapping your legs around him and pushing your hips up.

“If I’m cumming again,” you say slowly, making sure he hears you clearly, “it’s gonna be with you inside of me.”

He hesitates, eyes widening almost imperceptibly, and gapes at you.

“You’re serious?”

“I’m serious.”

“God, you’re unreal.” he mumbles in awe, hurriedly kicking off his sweats. He curses when they get tangled by his ankles and you giggle, cupping his face to get his attention. 

When his eyes are on yours, you smile reassuringly. “I’m right here,” you remind him. “I’m not gonna change my mind.”

“You’re not?” he asks, and you scoff in amusement, shaking your head.

“Not even if you take more than three seconds to take your pants off.”

He chuckles and nods, tugging them off and tossing them off of the side of the bed. “Your turn,” he says, staring pointedly at your shorts.

You lift your hips up and shimmy out of the shorts, chucking them in the same general direction Haechan threw his pants in. He doesn’t even let you pull off your underwear, shaking his head at you and instead pushing his boxers down to the middle of his thighs, his length slapping up against his stomach. 

“Stop staring at my dick like that,” he mumbles shyly, and you shake your head slightly to snap yourself out of your daze. “I feel…scrutinized.”

“I’m appreciating it,” you assure him, and the unmistakable proud puffing of his chest makes you smile.

“Yeah?” he muses, leaning over you and guiding himself to your entrance, pushing your underwear to the side. You almost prefer this way, you think, something about the desperation laden in having sex with your clothes just barely shoved out of the way.

“Yeah,” you whisper, excitement creeping into your voice as he glides the shaft between your slick folds, collecting your arousal.

“Let’s see if you appreciate it more like this,” he breathes, pushing into you slowly, and your back arches as you inhale loudly. “Good?”

“So good,” you mumble, nodding encouragingly, and he licks his lips before bottoming out and groaning in pleasure. “Feels so full,” you say, and he nods, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, pulling out slowly before pushing back into you quickly, eyes brightening at the moan you let out. He repeats the action, slowly moving inside of you and speeding up his thrusts until he’s built a rhythm that has little moans and whimpers spilling from you every time he bottoms out.

“God, yes,” you cry out, clutching his arm that’s propping him up by your head and turning your face towards it, biting down on his wrist to silence yourself.

“I wanna hear you,” he reminds you, shaking his hand until you release his wrist. “Every little sound you make—I want it.”

“Haechan,” you whine, and he growls softly in determination.

“That’s it, baby, just like that.” he encourages you, driving his hips into you in quick, powerful strokes.

You cup your breast with one hand, rolling your nipple between your fingers, and bring the other to your clit, rubbing it in quick circles that make your abdomen clench.

“God, that’s so hot,” Haechan mutters in awe, greedy eyes roving over your body admiringly as you pleasure yourself. “Want you to cum,” he urges, and you nod, your breath hitching.

“I’m close,” you confirm, and he hikes your leg up, resting it on his hip and angling himself towards it so his thrusts hit that spot along your walls that makes you see stars. “Yes, right there—”

“Right here?” His playful lilt drips confidence and only arouses you more, desire burning fiercely through you, an inferno blazing in your veins.

“Yeah,” you pant, whinier than ever as your desperation builds. “Right—fuck—” you hiss, your climax rushing to meet you and overpowering your senses. Your eyelids flutter shut and your mouth falls open, shaky breaths and broken moans of his name escaping you as his length pistons in and out of you quickly. Haechan doesn’t stop, keeping the same pace and power as your body stiffens before ultimately going limp.

“Good?” He rouses you from your daze, and you open your eyes to shoot him a dopey smile.

“Yeah,” you sigh blissfully, and he grins before leaning down so you’re nose to nose.

“My turn.” He thrusts into you even faster, the rhythmic sounds of your bodies meeting filling the room as you move to cover your mouth as hurried, frantic, and uncontrollable noises of pleasure leave you. “Look at you,” he coos, his words punctuated with each thrust. “Couldn’t be quiet even if you tried.”

“Hae—chan—” you stutter out, and he chuckles, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Music to my fucking ears.” His thrusts slow down as he groans with pleasure, his length throbbing inside of you as his pattern shifts to slower, more powerful snaps of his hips into yours. “Gonna cum—where do you—fuck—want it?”

“Inside,” you stammer, and he pulls back from your ear to look at you with unbridled excitement. “Cum inside.”

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me—” He climaxes without another word, biting down on your neck as he releases into you. His breath is hot against your flesh, moistening the skin as he digs his teeth into you and makes you whine in complaint, only releasing you in favor of sucking at the now sore spot. 

His thrusts finally come to a stop, Haechan burying himself in you to the hilt as your walls clench around him, milking his orgasm for all it’s worth. Neither of you move for a while, just remaining in the moment with each other, before Haechan slowly pulls out of you and moves to lie on his back beside you. 

Your walls clench around nothing, your face contorting in discomfort when a mix of your releases feels like it’s leaking out of you.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur softly, and he looks over at you worriedly, the concern fading when you shoot him a warm, reassuring smile. You squeeze his hand comfortingly and climb off of the bed, readjusting your underwear and pulling your shorts back on. You shuffle to the bathroom awkwardly, cleaning yourself up and washing your hands before returning to your room. 

“Hey!” you complain when you return, looking at Haechan under your covers.

He looks at you in surprise, slightly worried. “Was I supposed to be leaving?”

“What? No—you’re laying on my side.” you explain, pointing at your pillow, and his shoulders slump in relief as he rolls his eyes slightly and shifts over to the other pillow.

“God, I thought you were having, like, post-nut clarity or something and wanted me to leave, never to be seen again.” he rambles, and you stop mid-stride, looking at him with your eyebrows raised in amusement.

“You’re ridiculous.” You continue your path to your bed, climbing under the covers and putting the bag of mandarins on your nightstand. “The only post-nut clarity realization I’m having is that I am sleepy.” 

“Me too,” he sighs. “Be right back,” he says, climbing out of the bed and scooping up the mandarin rinds, tossing them in your garbage on his way out of the room. You curl up on your side as you wait for him to get back, smiling softly to yourself as you recall the events that just transpired.

Your light turns off, shrouding your room in darkness save for where the moonlight delicately peeks through your windows, and Haechan clambers back into the bed, lying behind you stiffly before muttering, “Fuck it,” and draping an arm over your stomach, snuggling up to you.

“Good night, Haechan,” you murmur softly, and he hums contently, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.

“Good night.”

Waking up doesn’t quite go the way you usually expect. 

Before you can even open your eyes, you feel an arm draped over your midsection and hear something—or someone—stirring slightly beside you.

In your just-woken-up foggy mindset, you try to recall what in the fresh hell is going on, only to be jolted out of your focus by the realization that you can quite literally feel the person beside you staring at you.

Peeking won’t do any good given that they’re literally looking dead at you, so you keep working on pushing away the grogginess clouding your sensibilities. 

“I can tell you’re awake, y’know.” 

Ah. Well, that solves that.

Opening one eye, you peek at Haechan, who’s watching you in fond amusement with his head propped up on his hand, elbow just beneath the pillow his head was just resting on. 

“Good morning.” He sounds teasing, the greeting pointed as you realize you haven’t yet said anything.

“Morning,” you croak, and he chuckles, settling back down so he’s lying beside you. 

You move to sit up and he whines immediately, pulling you back down none too gently. 

“Don’t get up yet,” he murmurs, and you furrow your brows.

“Why not?”

“Give me a second and I’ll think of a really good reason.”

You let out an amused snort and comply, lying back down. You shift slightly so you’re fully on your back and Haechan takes the opportunity to move closer to you, letting out a soft content sigh as he rests his head on your shoulder. “You’re awfully cuddly.”

“I’m always cuddly,” Haechan counters, and you nod slowly.

“You’ve got a point,” you agree.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, instead starting to shift away from you as he says, “I can stop if you want—”

“No!” you protest immediately, clutching onto his arm resting on you. “I like it.” He pauses and looks back at you with a relieved smile before settling back into place. 

“Good.” His arm tightening around you, Haechan’s head ducks down, nuzzling into the space between your chin and shoulder where he exhales softly against your neck, chuckling when you squirm under him.

“Mm, you like that?” he murmurs, sucking his teeth when you shake your head. “Sure, you don’t.” You can practically hear him rolling his eyes and, as if to prove his point, he presses his mouth to your skin in a lazy kiss, lips parting to suck gently. 

Your breath hitches and he snickers, repeating the action over and over again, lips kissing and sucking with no restraint, lewd grunts leaving him as he positions himself to get better access to you. 

When his tongue peeks out to lick the dewy patch of skin he’s been sucking on, you accidentally let out a choked whimper and he hesitates before pulling back and looking at you.

Averting your gaze, you can’t help but look sheepish under his probing stare, that knowing grin you’re so familiar with growing on his face in your peripheral vision. 

“Did you just moan?”

“That was not a moan!”

“So you admit you made a noise.” He looks smug at your inadvertent confession, and you grumble indistinctly under your breath. “It’s okay if I turn you on, you know.” Haechan says with a sympathetic pat to your hip, cackling when you push him away with an embarrassed huff. 

“You suck,” you mutter, and he ducks his head to press an obnoxiously loud and sloppy kiss to your neck. Your squeal of disgust rings out along with his laughter as he shuffles further down on the bed, pressing languid kisses to your body as he goes. “Where are you going?” you giggle when you feel his fingers inching up the hem of your shirt and his breath exhaling on your navel. “Haechan!” you yelp in alarm as his tongue dips into your belly button, reaching down to swat his head away.

His fingers are hooking in your shorts and yanking them down your legs before you can even process the situation, the blanket lifting slightly for his hand to fling them off the bed. 

He catches your hand by the wrist and presses it down on the bed by your hip, dotting kisses just above the waistband of your underwear as you wriggle under him uselessly.

“Remember that reason I was gonna give you to stay in bed?” he murmurs, the warmth of his breathing causing arousal to stir in your belly. “This is it.” He doesn’t say anything else, instead kissing your clit over your underwear with a low content hum. Your thighs reflexively move to close him out, but he pins them in place, palms flat against your inner thighs as he spreads them wider.

He presses another kiss to your clothed clit—and another, and another, until the room is filled with the sounds of his noisy kisses and your unsteady breathing. His kisses travel lower until he’s kissing at the very seat of your underwear, teasing over your entrance as his nose rubs against your clit.

Your breath catches in your throat when his tongue flattens against the seat of your underwear, no doubt tasting the arousal that’s begun to seep through the fabric. His almost ticklish ministrations have your insides fluttering with need and nerves, his moans only escalating the situation as they get lower and longer, croaky with desire.

He drags his tongue up your underwear from your entrance to your clit, swirling his tongue around the gentle imprint of the sensitive button and sucking on it until your thighs start to tremble. 

“Haechan, please,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to remain steady at a louder volume. He hums questioningly, flicking over your clit with the tip of his tongue rapidly and pushing your hips back down when they buck into his face.

“Please, what?” You can’t see him due to his being under the covers, but you can imagine the smug little grin on his face right now.

“Please don’t stop,” you whine, and he hums—loudly and contently—before pressing another kiss to your clit.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” His fingers collect the fabric of your underwear just above your clit and tug it upwards, making you gasp in surprise. He tugs up harder until the thin fabric of the seat of your underwear scrunches together and slips between your lips, flesh spilling out onto either side of the damp, essentially useless garment.

Your moans escalate in pitch as he tugs the underwear up repeatedly, delivering pressure and friction to your clit that’s almost dizzying but just slightly not enough. His tongue drags up your now exposed lips, sucking them into his mouth and licking over them to coat them with his saliva, replacing the slick arousal leaking from your core.

“Haechan,” you whimper, truthfully unaware of what you want—you know you want more, and you know he’s going to give it to you, if not more for himself than for you, if his blissful sighing is anything to go by. 

He doesn’t dignify you with a response, instead releasing your skin from his mouth and latching onto your inner thigh as he slowly kisses at the heated flesh, slowly pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening core.

A sharp intake of breath sounds from under the covers, and before you can ask what’s happened, he groans and your clit is enveloped in his mouth as he sucks greedily at the bud.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, clutching at the bedsheets over where you know his head to be. The hand he’s been using to hold your wrist hostage slips down to link his fingers with yours in an intimate gesture that makes you glad he can’t see your unbelievably flustered face. “Fuck, just like that,” you urge quietly, and he responds by rolling his tongue over your clit, only releasing it to lap up the arousal coating your folds.

“Tastes so good,” he grunts, lips brushing against your throbbing clit as he speaks. “Such a pretty pussy, too, baby.”

Your only reply is a weak whimper as his tongue explores your core with an almost feral eagerness. He pauses, fingers slipping from yours as he uses both hands to yank your underwear as far down your legs as he can manage while still being between them, and resumes his fervent licking, digits linking with yours once more.

Tugging the hood of your clit back to expose more of the sensitive bud, he coos affectionately at the revealed button—an action that makes your cheeks burn from shyness—and flicks his tongue all over and around it before sucking it into his mouth and humming contently.

“You like that, yeah?” Haechan’s voice is throaty when he speaks, thick with desire as he practically slurs his words at you. “Like when I suck on your little clit like that?”

“Yeah,” you whine breathlessly, nodding vigorously even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, I like it—”

“Wanna feel my tongue in your pretty pussy, baby? Hm?” He’s practically taunting you, but you can’t even be bothered to care, your climax hovering just out of reach. “Wanna fuck yourself on my tongue?”

“Shut up, just please—” You don’t get to finish whatever thought you were going to vocalize, as Haechan’s tongue prodding at your entrance wipes your mind clear of any functionality. “Yes—more—need more—”

He licks all around your entrance first, loud and lewd noises of him lapping up your slick barely muffled by the barrier of the comforter, but finally obliges, pushing his pointed tongue into you as far as the pink muscle will allow.

The sigh of relief you let out is cathartic, the sound tapering off into an unmistakable moan as he urges your hips down towards his face. Taking the cue, you rock your hips into his face, movements jerky as his tongue glides in and out of you and renders you incapable of anything other than moaning and fucking onto him.

“Haechan, gonna—I’m gonna—” you moan, body shuddering with anticipation, and he just keeps guiding your hips against his face, not stopping even as your peak hits and your muscles stiffen reflexively, movements stuttering to a stop as you remain frozen, hips in the air and abdomen tightening. He smacks your ass lightly to get your attention and resumes your motions against his mouth, nose deliberately bumping against your highly sensitive clit. “Shit, Haechan, I’m done—”

Your weak attempts to wriggle away from him are only met with a forceful yanking of your body back into place and his tongue retracting from you in favor of licking at your clit. “I’m not,” Haechan mumbles determinedly, and the urgency in his voice makes you balk, your breath hitching again as he licks you to yet another climax. 

When you come down from this high, your mind is fuzzy in the best of ways, your consciousness only distantly aware of Haechan emerging from under the covers and reassuming his position next to you with a pleased hum, pressing his spit and arousal slicked lips to your collarbone in a quick kiss.

“That was fun,” he coos, his nose brushing against your neck, and you chuckle weakly, nodding. 

“It was more than fun.” 

“Good. In that case,” Haechan muses, his arm tightening around you as he pulls you impossibly closer. He tangles his legs with yours, his knee pushing against your half-removed underwear, and continues, “I think I earned staying in bed with you for a bit longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you half-chuckle, half-exhale, and he grins, lips pressed against your neck.

“Good. Now go back to sleep,” he urges, and you’re about to attempt to oblige when a knock on your door jolts you both out of your daze. His eyes widening almost comically, he ducks his head back under the covers and you redistribute the comforter to look slightly less suspicious.

“Come in!” you call, and the door opens to reveal Mijoo leaning against your door frame. “Hey!”

“Good morning,” she greets you with a warm smile. “We’re ordering breakfast from the diner down the street; do you want anything?”

“Uh—the breakfast platter with waffles, please.” you answer, and she nods.

“Great. Hey, Haechan?” she calls, and you both stiffen before a sheepish Haechan pokes his head out from under the covers. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” he says eagerly, and you snort in amusement. “Can I have the breakfast platter with waffles, too?”

“You got it.” Mijoo raises two fingers to her head in a mock salute before moving to shut the door. 

“Wait!” you whisper-shout after her, and she pauses, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly. “How did you know Haechan was here?”

“His shoes are by the front door,” she answers simply, and your body slackens with relief. “You moaning his name also helped.”

“…Sorry.” you mumble sheepishly, and she shrugs.

“You’re lucky we were already awake.”

“We weren’t that loud!” Your brows furrow as you look at her defensively, and she snickers, shaking her head.

“You’re right; I’m just messing with you.” she smiles teasingly, and you huff, frowning at her petulantly. “Okay, gonna go order now.”

A small “hmph” is all you have to say, and she shuts the door, leaving you and Haechan alone with each other once more.

Looking over at you curiously, Haechan grins before leaning up to kiss between your eyebrows where the skin is furrowed, then your nose, and finally your lips, his mouth lingering against yours. 

“You’re cute when you pout.” he mumbles fondly, and your cheeks blaze something fierce as you fight down a bashful smile. He pulls back slightly, studying your face before connecting your mouths again, this time parting his lips and sneaking his tongue into your mouth. The taste of your arousal transfers from his tongue to yours and you can’t help but whine from how arousing it is to taste yourself on someone else. “Don’t tempt me.” he mutters against your lips, and you nod in understanding.

“Sorry.” you say softly, and he chuckles before pressing a light kiss to your lips again and pulling back.

“It’s okay. Now, we only have so much more nap time before the food gets here,” he reminds you, collapsing back onto the bed and pulling you into his embrace, “so we’d better make the most of it.”

“Haechan, we can’t sleep now,” you point out, “we have to at least wash up and get dressed or something.”

“But—” he whines, and you kiss him quickly to shut him up. 

It works.

“We can do all that and then, if there’s still time, we can come and get back in bed,” you suggest, and he screws his face up in thought. “It’s not like you’re gonna wanna get back in bed once we get up, anyway.”

“I’ll take that challenge!” He releases you and rolls out of the bed, miscalculating slightly as he falls on the floor with a thud and an “oof!”

“It wasn’t a challenge,” you reply, trying (and failing) to hold back your laughter as you peer over the edge of your bed at a disgruntled Haechan lying spread-eagled on his back.

“Stop laughing,” he gripes, reaching a hand out to you. “Help me up?” he asks hopefully, and you take his hand to pull him up, yelping in shock when he tugs hard and pulls you out of the bed and on top of him. “Oof!” 

“Genius.” you drawl, and his hands just link behind you on the small of your back.

“Now, who’s laughing?” he points out, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Still me. You broke my fall.” you say with a snicker, and he hesitates before huffing in mild frustration.

“Well, maybe I should get a reward for being so gentlemanly.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Like a kiss.”

“Given that you’re the reason I even had a fall to break,” you answer, patting his chest, “I’m gonna pass.” His face falls as he frowns up at you, and you roll your eyes, leaning down and pressing the quickest of kisses to his cheek before standing up and pulling your (highly uncomfortable, now cold and damp) underwear back up your legs to retain whatever dignity you have left.

“Aw, I only get a cheek kiss for breaking your fall?” he complains as you pull him to his feet, and you stare at him, unimpressed.

“You’re the reason I fell!”

“Excuses, excuses, excuses,” he grumbles, waving you off dismissively. “We live in a cruel and unjust world.”

“That we do,” you agree. “Now go put some pants on.”

“I think they gave you more food than me,” Haechan sulks, and you look at his container, then yours, then back at his.

“They definitely did.” you agree, grinning.

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t gloat.”

“But I love gloating,” you say with a frown. “It’s my third favorite thing to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Haechan chuckles, looking over at you. “What’s the first?”

“Bragging.”

He snorts loudly. “Got it. Second?”

“Rubbing things in people’s faces.” You grin at him, and he raises one eyebrow. You suspect you’ve walked into a trap of some sort. “What?”

“I know something you could rub in my face.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and your eyes widen as you smack his arm and turn away from him to hide your incredibly flustered face. “I’m kidding!” You peek over your shoulder at him to see his hands raised in surrender and you cautiously turn back to face forward. “Unless…”

“Haechan, get out!” you shriek, the warmth returning to your face as you wave him away frantically.

“No can do, sorry.” He shrugs in your peripheral vision. “I wanna see how cute you look all flustered.”

“Stop teasing me,” you huff.

“But I love teasing,” Haechan says, nudging your side pointedly as he throws your words back in your face. “It’s my third favorite thing to do.”

“I’m not gonna ask what the first two are,” you mumble, turning back to face forward when the heat in your cheeks has dissipated somewhat and you feel less flustered.

“Aw, c’mon,” he whines, shaking your arm. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Nope.”

He takes a deep breath. “Please, please, please, please, please—”

“Oh, my God, fine!” you exclaim, lunging at him and clapping a hand over his mouth. “What are the first two things?” you ask, cautiously moving your hand. You move to sit back in your spot, but Haechan grabs your arm that’s propping you up above him, keeping you in place.

“Kissing you is second.” He looks up at you with bright eyes and you would scoff and disregard the comment if it didn’t seem so genuine, a bashful smile curling your lips.

“What’s first?” You blink down at him curiously. 

“Hanging out with you.” He grins widely, and you open and close your mouth pointlessly, no words coming forth to rescue you from looking stupid. “Cute.” he coos, leaning up so you’re face to face. Studying your face carefully, his lips part slightly as he tilts his head to the side. Speaking softly, he asks, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Depends,” you answer, speaking just as softly. “Are you thinking about the fact that eggs don’t taste good cold?”

He gives you a disapproving look. “No, actually. Now I am.”

“Great,” you muse, pulling back and sitting in your spot once more. “Now eat so I can press play.” You gesture with your fork towards your laptop which is sitting just in front of you both, the screen paused on a scene from Chicken Little. 

“I don’t know why we didn’t pick a Christmas movie to watch.” Haechan says with a small huff. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“We can watch a different movie,” you reply easily, gesturing towards the screen. “Just pick one.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he mutters triumphantly under his breath, pulling the laptop to his lap.

“Don’t get syrup on my laptop!” you scold, plucking his fork from his hand and putting it in his container of food.

“Sorry, babe,” he mumbles distractedly, too focused on browsing for a good movie to notice the pet name that slipped out.

You, however, are unoccupied and therefore fully aware of it, your body freezing momentarily. Your face heats up for what feels like the millionth time and you partially forget that there’s food in your mouth, your jaw hanging slightly open as you sit in a stunned silence.

“Found one!” Haechan announces proudly, placing your laptop back on the bed and looking over at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You okay?”

“Yep!” you agree way too quickly.

His eyes narrow. “That was way too quick.”

Damn it. “I’m okay,” you assure him, and he scrutinizes you for a moment longer before seeming to let it go and returning his attention to his food. Desperate to change the subject, you look at the screen and nod in approval. “The Grinch—nice choice.”

“Thank you,” he replies, smiling with satisfaction as he presses the spacebar to play the movie. You two eat in silence for a moment as the beginning credits roll, Haechan for some reason waiting until the movie actually starts to speak. “Oh, speaking of holiday spirit—”

“You couldn’t say this before the movie started?” You look at him in disbelief, and he frowns (very cutely, once again) at you. “Sorry,” you mutter. “Continue.”

“Thank you,” he replies, the smile back on his face. “We’re having a holiday party on Christmas, and you���re invited.” 

“Me?” You point at yourself, confused, and he shoots you a funny look.

“No, the ghost slightly to your left.” He replies sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, Haechan letting out a small laugh. “Yes, you.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, processing. “Can I bring Mijoo and Chuu?”

“Duh?” He shoots you another funny look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am!” you defend yourself, a bit too loudly for your tastes this time. “I am,” you repeat, sounding more normal. “You only invited me, so I figured—”

“Well, you’re the only other person in this room.” He points out, and you nod slowly.

“Fair.”

“I mean, I do want you to come—like, specifically you.” Haechan clarifies, and you look over at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “It’s a good time to give you your present.”

“You got me a present?” you ask softly, surprised, and if he shoots you any more funny looks, you think you’ll throttle him. “I just didn’t expect it!”

“Why not?” He stares at you, confused. “You think I’d invite you to a Christmas party and not give you a Christmas present?”

“Good point, I guess.” you say mostly to yourself. “I can give you yours then, too.” 

He clutches his chest dramatically, eyes sparkling with emotion. “You got me a present?”

You stare at him blankly, and he drops the act, looking at you pointedly.

“That’s how ridiculous you were just now.” He raises his eyebrows, and you gasp in disbelief.

“I didn’t moon over you, Haechan,” you defend yourself, and he shrugs.

“Maybe you should’ve. It would’ve been cute.” He grins at you, and you narrow your eyes. “Kidding!”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I am not.” Haechan confirms, shaking his head. 

“Anyway,” you continue, side-eyeing him. “Will there be snacks?”

“Yep! The festive kind,” he says proudly. “Eggnog…gingerbread cookies…sugar cookies…”

“Peppermint bark?” you ask hopefully, and Haechan looks over at you with a small smile and a soft, fond look in his eyes.

“Why? Do you like peppermint bark?”

You suck your teeth, trying not to roll your eyes. “No, I actually can’t be within thirty yards of it for legal reasons—yes, I like peppermint bark!”

“Sassy pants.” he mutters under his breath. “If you like peppermint bark, then there will be peppermint bark.” He smiles at you, and you bounce twice in place from excitement. 

“Yay! I’ll be there.” you assure him. “Do I have to get Jaemin and Renjun presents, too?” 

“Nah, you don’t actually have to get anyone anything, actually. Just show up with good vibes.” He leans back against your headboard and smiles contently at you, unperturbed by your disapproving frown. 

“Did you get Mijoo and Chuu anything?” you ask, and he shakes his head. “Mm, but I’m a guest…”

“And I’m a host, and I hereby absolve you of any gift-buying duties.” Haechan announces with an air of grandeur, waving his hand dramatically. You snort in amusement and he looks at you with a satisfied grin. “I got Renjun’s and Jaemin’s gifts already—gave myself a paper cut trying to wrap it.” He frowns, showing you his thumb with a red line running along the knuckle, and you wince.

“Poor Haechan.” You pout, and he nods, batting his lashes at you in a pronounced display of cuteness. “Wait right here.” You pat his knee and get off of the bed, heading to the bathroom and returning with a bandage. 

“SpongeBob?” Haechan chuckles softly as you bring his hand onto your lap so you can apply the cartoon-themed bandage. “How old are you, again?”

“You can always leave,” you remind him in a warning tone, not looking up as you peel the backing strips off.

“I love SpongeBob, actually. Love that spongy guy.” Haechan says quickly, and you snicker quietly.

“Yeah, that’s more like it.” You wrap the bandage around his thumb and pat it gently for good measure, looking up at him. He’s staring at you with that unreadable look again, a soft smile on his lips, and you blink at him, confused. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says quietly, looking down at your handiwork. “I think it needs something.”

“We have ointment if you want it, I just figured you didn’t need it because it’s a paper cut—” Your words stop abruptly when Haechan brings his thumb up to your face, level with your mouth. “Can I help you?”

“Kiss it,” he presses, wiggling the appendage in front of your face. “To help it heal.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Your voice is flat but incredulous, and he frowns at you.

“So you can suck on my fingers,” he starts, your eyes widening in shock, “but you can’t give my thumb a teeny little kiss to make it better?” 

You stare at him. He matches your gaze with a smug little challenge glinting in his eyes. You lean forward and press a small kiss over the bandage where the small wound is, and he smiles in satisfaction. 

“Feels better already,” he coos teasingly, and you scoff, trying and failing to hide your amusement. 

“Okay, I’m gonna reheat my food and you’re gonna rewind the movie because we missed the whole beginning.” You get off the bed and Haechan offers you his container with a hopeful smile that only widens when you roll your eyes and take it from him.

“You’re the best!” He shouts as you head out of your room.

“I know!” you call back casually, doing an excellent job at hiding how the compliment makes you more than a bit giddy inside.

The day of the Christmas party has finally come, and you’re filled with nerves for some reason.

In the past couple of days leading up to the party, you and your friends have been wrapped up in work shifts, the holiday season bringing in extra high customer volume. It normally wouldn’t be a big deal, but this means you haven’t really had time to hang out with anyone, least of all Haechan.

And you miss him. You miss him more than you thought possible, miss his smile, his laugh, the twinkle in his eyes when he teases you—

It hits you when you’re walking home from work the day of the party: you really like Haechan. Like—a lot.

You already knew you were into him because, well, you can’t even think about him without feeling the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. It’s the gravity of your feelings that startle you. 

More than kissing him, you like holding his hands and listening as he tells you the story of his crooked pinky for the millionth time.

More than sleeping with him, you like hanging out with him; no responsibilities, no expectations, no pressure, and you always leave feeling better than when you met up with him.

It’s this realization that has you hopping in the shower and dressing up slightly nicer before gathering your gifts in a tote bag—well, the ones you can fit, at least.

You knock on their front door and nibble your bottom lip gently before stopping abruptly, not wanting to do away with all of your lip balm before you even set foot in the party.

“Hey, you made it!” Jaemin cheers when he opens the door, and you can’t help but laugh at his joy.

“Yeah! Traffic was crazy in the fifteen feet between our front doors, but I made it,” you joke, following Jaemin into the living room. “Oh, I have your present!” You root through your bag before gently procuring his gift and handing it to him with a smile. 

His eyes widen and he coos fondly, reaching for it and cupping it in his hands. “I may be an adult in many forms of the word, but I have a soft spot for stuffed animals and this? This is just about the cutest stuffed animal I’ve ever seen.” He cradles the white bunny plushie like an infant, humming contently, and you blink in surprise.

“I’m glad you love it, don’t get me wrong,” you say slowly, “but you seem a lot more excited than I expected.”

“I may have had some eggnog,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking at your raised eyebrows and the unanswered question still written plainly on your face and continuing on to say, “I heard a rumor that it’s spiked.”

“Who started that?” you ask, confused, and Jaemin rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.

“Well, I did.” he answers. “Because I’m the one that spiked it.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding, patting his chest gently. “That’s nice, Jaemin. Have, um, you seen—”

“Haechan’s in the kitchen.” he answers with a knowing smile, clearly coherent enough to know where you were going with your sentence. Or maybe it’s just that obvious that you could only be looking for him.

“Great,” you exhale in relief, nodding once before heading towards the kitchen. 

“I’ll give you your gift when it’s gift exchange time!” Jaemin calls after you, and your brows furrow.

“Would’ve been helpful to let me know there’s a gift exchange time.” You shake it off as you enter the kitchen and stop short as your eyes land on the person you were looking for.

Haechan’s back is facing you, hunched over as he fiddles with something you can’t see. There are a few other people in the kitchen, but they melt into the background as you clear your throat loudly, smiling when Haechan jolts in surprise before turning around to lock eyes with you.

You want to say that your heart didn’t skip a beat from seeing his face light up at the sight of you, but you’ve never been a very good liar. You offer a small wave in reply as he crosses the kitchen to get to you, barely having time to drop your arm before he’s pulling you into a tight hug. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Haechan pulls his head back slightly to grin at you. “I’m happy you made it.”

“Me too,” you say just loudly enough for him to hear, tucking your head back into the hug to hide the giddy smile overtaking your lips. Pulling away from the hug somewhat reluctantly, you take in his outfit and—“What are you wearing?”

Haechan looks down at his ugly—an understatement, really—Christmas sweater, obnoxiously vibrant and colorful with a gaudy reindeer on the front, stitched to be three-dimensional, and huffs petulantly. “I’m dressed for the festivities!”

“You look like the festivities threw up on your sweater.” you remark plainly, and he grumbles incoherently, wrinkling his nose in disapproval.

“Words hurt, you know.” 

“You’re right,” you agree, raising your hands in surrender. “I am so sorry. How in the world shall I make it up to you?” Your robotic and wholly insincere delivery just makes Haechan narrow his eyes at you, a snicker escaping you as you avert your gaze.

“A kiss might help.” He raises an eyebrow expectantly, a smug twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know,” you mumble as you think about it—your friends and these other perfect strangers have never seen you kiss before, and you don’t know what the implications of such a public display of affection could be, and—

“You don’t have much of a choice, actually,” Haechan replies proudly, jerking his head towards the ceiling when you look at him in confusion.

You follow his direction with your eyes and there, hanging neatly from the ceiling’s smoke detector, is mistletoe.

You roll your eyes, pursing your lips in an attempt to hide the fond and amused smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. You grip the front of his hideous sweater and pull him closer to you, pressing the quickest of pecks to his lips you think you’ve ever placed.

His eyes barely get a chance to close before they’re flying open in surprise and he opens his mouth to complain, but you hold a finger up to silence him.

“That was a kiss.” you point out.

“A tiny one.” Haechan counters with a displeased frown, but one look down at your fist still holding his sweater makes him smile softly, apparently unable to maintain his dissatisfied appearance.

“I still did it.” You shrug, releasing his sweater and smoothing down the yarn you bunched up by accident. There really isn’t much of any way you could have made the sweater look worse by wrinkling it, truly, but it’s the gesture that counts.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, eyes darting to something over your shoulder before they widen slightly and he looks back at you. “You’re just in time for the gift exchange, actually. Do you want something to eat or drink before we go into the living room?”   

“Sure,” you agree, and he leads you to the counter he was standing at when you came in. Your face lights up at a familiar snack as you reach your hand into the bowl and pull out a small fistful of individually wrapped chocolate pieces. “You got the peppermint bark!”

“That I did.” He smiles widely, clearly proud of himself, and you wrap your arm around his waist, squeezing gently. “Oh, and tip? Don’t drink the eggnog.”

“Yeah, Jaemin said he spiked it.” you snicker, and Haechan sucks his teeth.

“I knew it tasted funny.” 

The gift exchange goes about as smoothly as you’d expect. Chuu’s very appreciative of her reading pillow and bedside lamp, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she opens the gift from you, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Chuu got you one of the books you always mention that you’ve never quite gotten around to reading.

(“Now you don’t have any excuses,” Chuu says, smiling, and you nod slowly.

“I bet I’ll think of some more.”)

You’re thrilled when Mijoo gives you your gift, a full gel nail kit, and her expression no doubt matches yours when you take her back to the apartment to reveal her brand new mini skincare fridge.

(“I know this is for face masks and ampoules and the like, but—” Mijoo starts.

“You’re gonna put some snacks in it, aren’t you?”

“I’m definitely gonna put some snacks in it.” She nods in agreement before you two laugh and head back to the party.)

“Hey,” Haechan calls softly from behind you, and you turn to face him, noticing in your peripheral vision that Mijoo and Chuu give each other a knowing look before disappearing into the party. “I wanna give you your present.”

“Yeah, me too.” you reply, feeling an anxious thrumming in your stomach out of nowhere. Will he like it? Does he even really want it?

“Over here,” Haechan says, taking your hand and leading you to a more secluded corner of the party where the holiday music somehow doesn’t quite seem to reach as well. 

“Okay, how are we doing this?” you ask, reaching in your bag and pulling his gift out, holding it behind your back. “On three?” You brace yourself to reveal the gift only to panic and shake your head. “Never mind—I wanna go first.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, smiling at you with a delicate fondness you don’t often see from him. 

“Okay, close your eyes and put your hand out.” you urge him, and he obliges, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he waits. 

He looks so incredibly kissable right now, actually, you think. His lashes flutter delicately on his cheekbones and you can count each lovely little mole on his face without him making a teasing remark about how you’re mesmerized by him, and his lips look so soft and inviting—

“Hello?” Haechan laughs, and you blink out of your daze.

Right. Back on track. You swallow the lump in your throat and place his gift in his hand, clearing your throat nervously.

“You can open your eyes now.” You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet anxiously as he opens his eyes and looks down at his hand. 

“No way,” he whispers, blinking down at the vinyl in his hand in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“I am not,” you chuckle nervously, and he looks up from the vinyl to you in awe.

“I thought you said the record store was sold out—” This is the softest you’ve ever heard him speak, you think, and it’s actually very endearing.

“I may have fibbed.” You shrug casually, and a surprised laugh escapes him as he turns the vinyl this way and that. “There was one left. I hid it so I could buy it for you, because I know you love Michael Jackson, and it’s limited edition and probably very cool for a Michael Jackson fan such as yourself to have—y’know—”

“You’re rambling, cutie.” Haechan cuts you off gently, amusement bright in his eyes as he watches you, and he definitely solved the problem of you talking too much, but the casual pet name has now rendered you mute. “Thank you so much,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes.

You manage to find the words to express yourself once more. “You really like it?”

“I fucking love it. I’m gonna display it in my room and brag about it whenever people come over.” He is most definitely not lying, you realize by the puff in his chest, and you bite back a giggle, feeling like a weight is lifted off of your shoulders. 

“I’m glad you’re happy,” you sigh in relief.

“My turn.” Haechan announces, gently setting the vinyl down on an armchair nearby and bringing his other hand from behind his back to hand you a small rectangular box. “It’s wrapped, so you gotta unwrap it.”

“I do think I’m aware of how wrapped presents work, yeah.” You can’t help but tease him lightly, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Be nice, I’m nervous,” he whines, and you coo sympathetically as you gingerly open the wrapping paper.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous—” Your lightly teasing words stop short when you lift the lid of the small white box and see the contents. “Oh, my God.” 

“It’s, uh,” Haechan rushes to explain, gesturing at the box, “I got it custom made with these little, uh, mandarin charms,” he points at the small orange charms on the bracelet, “because we always eat mandarins together, y’know? Like, it’s kind of our thing.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Haechan, I love it.”

You can hear his exhale of relief and his body goes slack, finally relaxing in your side view. “I was hoping you would.”

“Can you put it on me?” You feel like you can’t raise your voice past this murmur for fear that it’ll shatter the delicate and intimate moment you two have built with each other.

“Yeah,” Haechan says immediately, a smile audible in his voice. You hand him the box and he lifts the bracelet out of its velvety encasing, the dim but warm lighting of the living room catching the bracelet and making it glint beautifully.

“This must have been expensive,” you worry, and he shakes his head.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assures you. “Now that vinyl must have been crazy pricey—”

“It wasn’t too bad with the employee discount,” you half-lie; if it wasn’t for your employee discount and some serious sweet-talking to your favorite manager, you probably would have been living off of leftovers for a week or two.

“Gimme your wrist,” he murmurs quietly, and you comply, offering him your arm and watching as his hands fasten the clasp around your wrist. It looks stunning on your skin and you honestly can’t imagine taking it off anytime soon. “It looks beautiful on you,” Haechan compliments, and you laugh softly, shyly. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, and you’re now very aware that Haechan’s gaze has shifted from your wrist to studying your face, his intent stare sending nervous jitters throughout your body even as you avoid it. Slowly, you drag your gaze up from your linked hands to meet his eyes, and you’re all but floored by the intensity in his stare, his gaze somehow both unreadable and perfectly easy to comprehend.

It’s a myriad of emotions—fondness, desire, determination, passion—all packed into one heavy-lidded stare as he wets his bottom lip. His fingers loop around your wrist, just below the bracelet, and he tugs you closer gently, coaxing you into his embrace as his free arm wraps around your waist. 

Gazing into your eyes, he smiles secretively before looking up at the ceiling pointedly. When you look up, you already have a feeling about what you’re going to find, letting out a small laugh of disbelief when you see yet another mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

“Did you plan this?” When you look back at him, his eyes are trained on your mouth and he leans in closer to you, his nose nudging against yours as his smile softens.  

“Of course I did.” His words are a soft murmur against your lips before he’s kissing you, and the way he does makes your head spin.

His arm tightens around your waist and his other hand holds your chin, gently tilting your head towards him so he can kiss you better. His lips move slowly against yours, leisurely yet still intense as he hums contently.

You feel like you’re kissing him for the first time by your sink all over again, excitement trickling through you like the soapy water dripped down your arms that first time and the chatter in the background—even the faint whoops you hear that most likely mean you’ve been spotted—fading into nothingness.

There’s no one around that matters but you and Haechan, and you could probably live in this moment forever. 

He gently separates from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as you both attempt to catch your breath.

“Haechan,” you murmur softly, “if you kiss me like that again, I’m gonna think you’re in love with me.” Your attempt to lighten the mood to steady your pounding heart goes unanswered, Haechan surprisingly silent. You look up at him curiously to see, with a jolt of surprise, that he’s already looking at you, his expression unreadable yet immediately comprehensible like earlier, but there’s a fire to it, a burning insistence that makes you swallow thickly. “Don’t joke like that.”

He regards you with a raised brow. “Who says I’m joking?” At your skeptical silence, he scoffs in amusement, squeezing your waist gently. “You have to know I’m, like, crazy about you by now.”

You gape at him. “Really?”

He gapes right back at you. “Yes!” he answers exasperatedly. “I went to Etsy for you,” Haechan sounds incredulous, continuing on even as you start to laugh, “I don’t think you know how confusing it was to order a charm bracelet with mandarin oranges on it? The shop people probably thought it was ridiculous.”

“No,” you console him immediately, draping your arms around his neck. “They probably thought it was very thoughtful, romantic, and sweet. Just like me.” 

He looks up at you, hope in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Plus, it could be worse—you could have done all that just to get rejected or something.”

“So, I’m definitely not getting rejected right now, right?” He’s only half-joking, making you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“No, I’m definitely not rejecting you. Maybe I’m kinda crazy about you, too.” you admit with a small smile, and his face lights up, his smile one of the most radiant you’ve seen from him since meeting him. He studies your face, taking it in like it’s the last time he’ll ever see it, and you can practically feel the question on the tip of his tongue. “What is it?”

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks, smiling like he knows something you don’t.

You nod slowly, offering him a wry smile as you say, “I’m in; we can have a night out on the town or something.”

“Yeah?” He sounds slightly surprised but thrilled nonetheless, and you nod, your smile widening.

“Yeah. Renjun gave me a $50 gift card to Home Depot, so I’m thinking things might get a little crazy.” you deadpan, and Haechan snorts loudly in amusement, his eyes widening like he didn’t expect to do it.

“Home Depot?” Bless his heart, Haechan does make an attempt to hide his amusement, but he gives up and bursts out laughing. “Why would he—”

“I don’t know.” You hold your hands up in surrender. “I gave him art supplies, nice and thoughtful, and he gave me a gift card to a store I’ve never even set foot in.”

“Y’know, there’s actually something kind of sexy about Home Depot.” Haechan hums, swaying the two of you from side to side. “Maybe it’s the smell of brand new appliances and stuff.”

“I can’t say I know what appliances smell like off the top of my head.” you say thoughtfully, and Haechan nods.

“Yeah, neither can I; I just said that to make you feel better.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” you coo sarcastically, pinching his cheek.

He swats your hand away with a laugh before saying, “Speaking of sweet—I just remembered to tell you that Jaemin loves his present.”

“Really? I mean, I kinda figured, what with the way he fawned over it when I gave it to him, but I’m glad to know he really likes it.”

“Yeah, I saw him clutching it as he threw up in the toilet.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “What a lovely mental image.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles.

“Y’know, I really didn’t have much confidence in my gift-giving skills, but then I met Jaemin and Renjun. So, like, at least I know there’s worse out there.”

“What did Jaemin get you?” he laughs, his arms tightening around your waist.

You stare at him blankly. “A cookbook.”

Haechan’s confusion is palpable. “You don’t even cook like that—”

“I don’t even cook like that!” you agree emphatically, and he snickers.

“That’s awfully domestic of them, honestly.”

“Isn’t it? Are they hinting that I should start settling down or something?”

“Maybe they’re hinting that you’re wife material.”

“I’m pending “wife material” status; I need to learn to cook and navigate Home Depot, apparently.”

“Speaking of Home Depot,” Haechan pipes up, giving you a lingering kiss. “If we go to Home Depot, we can make out in the gardening aisle.”

You pull back just in time to snort in amusement. “How very romantic.”

“Listen, I’m trying to work with what we’ve got,” Haechan defends himself, and you roll your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you scratch gently at his scalp on the back of his neck.

“We could listen to your new vinyl in your room and make out in there,” you suggest, and he brightens up, nodding eagerly.

“What a good idea,” he agrees, tucking your head against him to hug you properly. 

After a moment, you shift uncomfortably. “Haechan, is that your phone in your pocket or did all that Home Depot talk get you worked up?”

“What are you talking about?” His voice is muffled against your neck as he speaks, but you can hear his confusion regardless. “My phone is in my back pocket.”

“Haechan, don’t tell me you’re seriously chubbed up right now in the middle of this Christmas party.”

“First of all: please never say ‘chubbed up’ again.”

“Agreed.”

“Thank you,” Haechan sighs in relief. “Second of all, that’s my remote.”

It’s your turn to be confused, apparently. “Remote to what?”

Releasing you from his embrace, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a simple remote, pressing it, and you watch as his sweater starts to flash bright lights.

You’re silent for a moment. “I didn’t think it could get any worse.” 

“Aw, come on!”

“No, I’m serious—it looks like the festivities threw up on you and now, apparently, they had some string lights in there too.”

Haechan pouts deeply. “Ah, you are so mean, seriously.”

“If we’re making out at all tonight, that hideous sweater comes off.” You point accusingly at the offensive garment, glaring at the wonky-eyed reindeer.

“No way.” Haechan disagrees immediately. “The reindeer sweater stays on during sex.”

“I will never sleep with you again.”

“On second thought, we could burn it. Burning it sounds good.”

“Baby, show me that last dance again,” Haechan urges you, jerking his chin at the open space of the living room you’ve been using as a makeshift dance floor.

You spring up from the couch, using a hand on his leg to brace yourself, and make your way to the middle of the room, taking a moment to recall the dance steps.

“It’s like this.” You hum a tune to yourself as you mime holding someone’s hand and their shoulder, swinging your hips as you move sideways, lifting your knee at the end before repeating the actions in the other direction. You look up at Haechan as you dance, immediately averting your gaze when you meet his eyes and take in his intense stare.

“And that’s the bachata?” he asks, raising his eyebrows curiously when you two lock eyes. You nod, and so does he. “You look good doing it.” He smiles and pushes off of the couch, taking the place of your invisible dance partner. Placing your hand on his shoulder, he rests his on your waist, lacing your fingers with his own and tugging you closer. “Dance with me now.”

“You got it?” you ask in surprise, and he nods.

“Quick learner.” he explains, smiling. He’s not wrong, you realize as you hum your little song and lead him into the dance. He moves smoothly and attractively, his steps confident but not too serious.

“You’re good,” you murmur in surprise, and he chuckles.

“I have a good teacher.” When you’ve completed two sequences from one side to the other, he twirls you, laughing when you yelp in surprise and clutch onto him tightly. “You’re not gonna fall, baby.”

“I know,” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I trust you.”

“You trust me?” Haechan’s voice is soft, his fingers just as gentle as his tone as they stroke at your back, and you nod, knowing he can feel it as opposed to see it. “Then close your eyes.” 

You move back so he can see when you comply, and he grips you a bit tighter, turning you to the side and dipping you, his laugh ringing out with yours as you burst into tickled giggles.

“See? I trust you.” You still don’t open your eyes as you speak, the inaction triggering a jolt of surprise when his nose brushes against yours.

His lips connect with yours soon after, nudging them apart to kiss you sweetly. He stands you both upright once more and wraps his arm around your waist, drawing you in closer with a hum and tugging gently on your bottom lip. 

He peppers kisses down to your neck where they slow down, growing languid and needy as he latches onto various spots of your neck and sucks gently. 

“That tickles,” you giggle, squirming away, but he just locks his arm around you, holding you firmly in place as he continues to attack your neck. “Haechan,” you whine pleadingly, and he groans against your skin.

“Mm, yeah, love when you say my name like that.” He nips at your flesh, lapping his tongue over the sore spot in a wordless apology. 

“Haechan!” You attempt to scold him, but the pleasure gets to you, his name coming out even needier than before.

“Just like that, baby.” he grunts, sucking harder at a spot near the base of your neck that, despite your conscious desires, has you tipping your head back to allow him better access. “See? You love it.” His free hand trails down your backside, hiking up your shirt to grab your ass, clad only in black lacy underwear.

You’ve essentially given up on getting him to stop, finally succumbing to your desires and pushing your hips into his. He chuckles, the sound low in his throat and undeniably smug, and backs towards the couch, releasing you and plopping down on the seat.

He pats his lap with an inviting wiggle of his brows, his grin widening when you take the invitation and sit sideways on his lap, leaning your side against his chest. 

“Where was I?” he murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and making a determined path to your neck. You wiggle away at the last minute and press your lips to his before he can inevitably protest. His complaining whine abruptly changes to a pleased humming sound as he kisses you over and over (and over) again, alternating between quick, soft kisses and lingering, needier ones. 

His hand slides up your thigh purposefully, moving between your legs and hiking up the hem of the shirt you’re wearing. He grins against your lips when you part your legs slightly, allowing him to stroke along your inner thighs.

“Your skin feels so soft,” he murmurs against your lips, “and your kisses taste so sweet—I’m in heaven.”

“You’re so dramatic.” you snicker, and he shakes his head, parting from the kiss to look at you with bright, earnest eyes.

“I’m serious,” he promises, his gaze dropping to where his hand disappears between your legs. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Well, unfortunately,” you murmur, tugging gently at the locks on the nape of his neck and smiling when he groans, “I can only keep Mijoo and Chuu away from the apartment for so long.”

“What are we gonna do when they come back?” He frowns up at you, resting his chin on your breast.

He really needs to stop being so damn cute, you think.

“Well, we can just go in my room.” you offer, and he nods, lost in thought.

“Are they coming back soon? Should you,” he sighs deeply as if he already regrets the next words out of his mouth, “put some pants on?”

You can’t help but laugh at how resistant he is to the thought of you wearing more clothes before you stand up, moving back to the center of the room and twirling once.

“Mijoo and Chuu have already seen me like this, anyway,” you inform him, gesturing at your attire, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, beckoning you closer. When you’re within reach, he laces his fingers with yours and pulls you towards him until you’re landing clumsily on his lap once more with a yelp. “Well, aren’t they lucky?” He adjusts you so your knees are on the couch on either side of him, your hips hovering above his lap ever so slightly.

“I wouldn’t say lucky,” you chuckle, and he shakes his head, scrutinizing your face.

“Do they get to see you reaching for stuff in the cabinets with this on?” Haechan asks, his hands running up the backs of your thighs. “Hm? Do they get to see your shirt ride up and show off your cute little ass?”

You hesitate, slightly uncomfortable with the thought of flashing your friends and roommates. “If they have, I’m pretty sure—and kinda hoping, at this point—they’re not actually looking.”

“Do they get to see you bend over as you look in the fridge for something to snack on?” he continues, and you grimace, shaking your head.

“I don’t even do that—oh—” Your vehement protesting ends abruptly when he grabs your ass with both hands, using his grip to pull you forward until your chest is clumsily landing against his. 

“No, they don’t get to see that, right?” he murmurs, looking up at you with desire pooled plainly in his eyes. “Only I get to see my girl like that.”

You could just about melt from the pet name. “Yeah,” you agree breathlessly. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum in a daze.

“Only me?” he presses, hands pushing your shirt up past your stomach and over your breasts, now exposing your matching lacy black lingerie.

“Only you,” you confirm, the needy whine creeping back into your voice. “Haechan, touch me.”

“My baby wants me to touch her?” he asks softly, teasing you with the promise of a kiss but not delivering. His breath is warm on your lips as he taunts you and he’s all but inhaling your plaintive cries for attention, his eyes growing more wild and intense the more you quietly plead for him. 

“Please, Haechan?” To your embarrassment, your voice cracks slightly towards the end of the word, but it seems to trigger something in Haechan, who lets out a groan from deep in his chest before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you in for a heated kiss.

“Could never say no to my girl,” he coos against your lips, punctuating each word with a kiss deeper than the one preceding it. “Let’s take this off, baby.” His hand hurriedly yanks at the material of your shirt that’s bunched up above your breasts, and you break from the kiss to pull it off, barely having time to drop it on the couch before he’s hungrily kissing all over the exposed skin of your chest. 

You already know what he’s going after next, so you beat him to the punch, unclipping your bra and letting the straps fall off your shoulders. Haechan lets out a loud groan of approval, his kisses barely hesitating before dipping lower until his tongue is rolling over and swirling around your nipple. His hands fly to cup both of your breasts as he alternates between sucking at both of your nipples, and you suck in a sharp breath when his fingers pinch at the hardened bud, tweaking it teasingly.

As he loses himself in your breasts, you can’t help but rock your hips down onto his lap, the thin fabric covering your clit doing virtually nothing to conceal the sensation of his cock pressing against your core through his sweats. You stutter out a gasp, and he chuckles mockingly, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and regarding you carefully.

“That feel good?” he asks, mimicking you when you nod. “Yeah? Feels good to fuck yourself against my cock?” 

Your only response is a whimper and a rasp of his name that has his eyes blazing with lust.

“You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?” he taunts, and you cry out weakly, your head dropping down to rest your forehead against his. “Can you cum like this? Just like this?” His mocking tone softens slightly, and when you nod, he hisses, bucking his hips up to collide with your body, groaning, “I love seeing you like this—so fucking gorgeous like this—no one gets to see this but me—”

“Only you,” you moan desperately, willing to say just about anything if it means you get to cum. 

“All mine,” he growls under his breath, tilting his head up to kiss you fiercely. “I’m all yours, and you’re all fucking mine, yeah?”

“Yes, baby—Haechan, I wanna cum so bad,” you gasp, and he nods, releasing your breasts and grabbing your hips, guiding your rocking motions until that delightfully familiar tightening feeling starts building in your abdomen. “Fuck, just like that,” you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders, his only protection the thin shirt he’s wearing.

“Kiss me when you cum,” he pants, and you oblige, leaning forward and connecting your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss. He’s positively frenzied, biting roughly at your bottom lip until you wince and sucking on your tongue, not relenting even when you attempt to retract it to moan his name. 

Your poor tongue is trapped between his greedy lips as he sucks hard on it, only giving you a slight break when he swirls his tongue around yours with a lewd moan escaping him as saliva—you can’t really tell whose it is—drips down from your bottom lip onto your chest. 

He’s all over you, dominating your mouth with his, your breasts with his hands, your core with his length, and your mind is so blank that you don’t even notice when one of his hands travels south to slip into your underwear, only catching on when his fingers press against your clit roughly.

“Oh, sh—” you gasp as he rubs the sensitive bud vigorously, heavy-handed touches sending you toppling over the edge. To your surprise, tears well up in your eyes, the pleasure almost too much to bear, and Haechan coos sweetly when they start to spill, pulling back from the intense lip lock to kiss up your tear tracks, capturing your lips with his own tear-smeared mouth, lips wet and salty as he moves them against yours.

“Up,” he croaks, tugging you up off of his lap slightly, and you oblige, lifting up off of him enough for him to shove his pants down to his knees and pull himself out of his boxers, rapidly fucking his fist as he stares at your underwear, the very last article of clothing covering your body. “Sit, baby.” he urges, guiding you down. 

He gropes freely at your asscheeks with one hand as his other, wrapped around the base of his length, brings the thick head of his shaft to your entrance. You pull your underwear to the side to allow him entry, and he pushes up into you as you sit down onto him, both of you letting out groans of pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” he moans, “sit on my fucking cock just like that.”

“So full,” you babble, gasping as he bottoms out, “so fucking full.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos comfortingly, “you can take it all, yeah?”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, but it’s not like you were planning on backing out, anyway.

In lieu of a response, you lift your hips and bring them back down onto him, Haechan winding his fingers in the locks at the nape of your neck and yanking so your head is forced back. You whimper loudly at the tug and moan louder when his tongue drags up from the top of your cleavage to your chin, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. 

“Obsessed with how you taste,” he grunts, barely parting from your neck as he sucks and nibbles at your skin and making loud and wet noises every time his lips release a patch of flesh. “Gonna eat your pretty pussy later, too—”

“Fuck,” you hiss, his words affecting you more than you expected. You position yourself slightly so you can bounce up and down on his length, your mind all but falling apart at the feeling of his thick shaft stretching you open.

He trails wet kisses back down to your chest, cupping your breasts and sucking on your nipples greedily, switching between the two like he can barely get enough. When he nips one of them a bit sharper than you’re prepared for, you cry out weakly, pushing at his head as a warning.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this—” he grunts, thrusting upwards to meet your movements so you’re simultaneously fucking onto and into each other. “No one else gets to hear the pretty fuckin’ noises you make when I fuck you—no one gets to make you feel this good but me—”

“Just you, babe—” Your words are undoubtedly slurred from pleasure, but by the way Haechan’s thrusts speed up, you’re willing to bet he heard you. “Feels so good—wanna cum so bad—”

“Feels good?” Haechan echoes mindlessly, biting down on the flesh of your breast. “You love this, don’t you? Love me fucking you with my thick cock?”

“Love your cock so much—fuck, Haechan—I’m gonna—” You can barely get the words out before Haechan’s kissing you deeply, a filthy mess of teeth and tongue as his hips fuck up into yours.

“Cum all over me, baby, want you to make a mess all over me,” Haechan grunts, and you do. You climax loudly and powerfully, and Haechan’s thrusts continue the whole time, prolonging and heightening your pleasure until you’re shaking your head and squirming away from the hypersensitivity.

“Haechan, cum inside me,” you moan plaintively, still in a daze, and he nods distractedly, sloppily kissing every inch of your skin he can reach as he speeds up his thrusts and curses under his breath. 

“Cumming—” He’s barely able to choke out the last syllable before he’s burying himself in you to the hilt, his breathing ragged as he finishes inside of you. You affectionately rake your fingers through his hair as he recovers, his forehead resting against your chest. When he’s collected himself, he catches your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm, looking up at you with a lazy smile.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, y’know that?” you mumble in amusement, and he grins mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Of course I do—and you love it,” he chuckles, and you roll your eyes slightly, shifting in his lap and cringing at how cool your chest feels. You look down and can’t help but widen your eyes at the state of your chest.

It’s, to put it lightly, covered in saliva, and you’re almost positive it’s entirely Haechan’s doing. When you look back up at him, you see him looking right where you just were, his lips parted slightly in what you assume is awe.

“You really do have quite a mouth,” you snort, pushing his jaw up so said mouth closes. “A messy, sloppy, dirty one.”

He looks up at you finally and you’re surprised to see that the look on his face wasn’t awe at his messiness but unbridled desire. He grins up at you smugly, making loud kissing noises.

“If I recall correctly, you weren’t complaining when my messy, sloppy, dirty mouth was all over you earlier,” he points out as he squishes you to his body, your breasts pressing against his face. He nuzzles into your cleavage, pressing a wet kiss to the skin, and you groan and push his head away with a laugh.

“Whatever,” you say, attempting to sound grouchy but ultimately failing as the smile on your face is too wide. “I need to shower.”

“Fine,” he sighs loudly, releasing you, and you stand up, making a face as his mostly softened length slips out of you. “On one condition.”

“It’s my shower, Haechan,” you point out. “What condition could you possibly have?”

“I get to join you.” He beams at you hopefully, nodding encouragingly in an attempt to convince you.

“I was already gonna say you’re coming with me,” you say, stooping to pick up your discarded clothing. “That way we’ll both be all cleaned up by the time Mijoo and Chuu come back.”

“Sounds good to me,” Haechan agrees, standing up and tucking himself back into his clothing. “Lead the way, baby.” 

When you turn and head towards the bathroom, a quick smack to your ass makes you yelp before turning to glare at your cheekily grinning boyfriend. 

“Haechan!”

“If I apologized, I’d be lying.” He shrugs nonchalantly, and you narrow your eyes at him before turning back around.

“You’re a menace.”

“You’re stuck with me,” he sing-songs, blowing you a loud kiss from behind. Thankfully, he can’t see the giddy smile on your face or feel the heat rising to your cheeks, so you just remain silent and think about how nice it is to be “stuck” with someone like Haechan.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you tease, turning to face him as you step into the bathroom and shut the door in his face.

“Hey!” Haechan exclaims, indignant as he jiggles the doorknob. “You’re in for it now, you know that, right? You can’t get rid of me that easily!”

“I know!” you call back, covering your mouth to stifle your laughter.

Frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ta da !!! i hope you enjoyed :) happy new year!

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [27] - Midnight

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Some arguments have more tension than others.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship (I'm serious, they have issues), mentions of sex and fighting. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Well then.

As it turned out, your plan to make your cousin look weak was working.

The first hit was an absolute success, and Ian was already crumbling. It was lucky for you that your father wasn’t getting involved and was giving him a chance to prove himself after the first attack to the shipment, because Ian was acting exactly the way you thought he would act.

Good.

It was going to make things much easier.

Bucky had dropped by to the apartment in the middle of the day to go take a shower which was quite surprising but judging by the blood stains on his shirt, it was needed. You were sitting comfortably on the couch, resting your feet on the coffee table with a book in your lap when he came into the living room and made a beeline to you to fling himself on the couch as well, pushing your book away to put his head in your lap. You pulled your brows together, tilting your head.

“Can I help you?”

If you didn’t know it better, you would’ve thought he was pouting.

“I need like five minutes to rest my eyes,” he murmured with his eyes closed. “How someone can be so goddamn stubborn, I’ll never understand.”

“Ah,” you said. “This can only be about—”

“Becca.”

You nodded your head. “What happened?”

“Mom wants to meet her girlfriend and Becca is acting like that’s a natural disaster.”

“Hurricane Winnifred,” you muttered and Bucky opened his eyes to look up at you, but then closed them again when you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair to play with it.

“Can you tell her she’s being nonsense?”

“I don’t think she’s being nonsense,” you told him. “Have you met your mother?”

“She’ll be nice.”

“Like fuck she will.”

“She’s nice to you.”

“Because she knows I won’t be nice if she won’t,” you told him. “Leila on the other hand…she’s way too polite.”

Bucky hummed and looked up at you again.

“Is Becca serious about her?”

“Oh absolutely,” you said. “Picket fence house and all that nonsense.”

“With a civilian,” Bucky mumbled. “That’s going to be fun.”

“Becca would never get with someone in the business, you know that.”

“Oh I know that, but I don’t think my parents do,” Bucky said. “They still hope it will happen.”

“Winnifred and my aunt would get along well,” you muttered. “Both boy moms.”

“So are a lot of people.”

“No there’s a difference between a boy mom and a boy mom.”

“You make zero sense, Charm.”

You shrugged your shoulders, still playing with his hair but his phone buzzed, making him let out a groan.

“No!”

“You’ll be fine,” you said and he sat up with a sigh, his eyes darting over the lines before he chuckled.

“Jesus, he really is the worst heir ever.”

“Ian?”

“Guess where he’s routing the next shipment.”

You frowned. “Where?”

“West side second dock.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Has your father never taught him anything, seriously?” he asked and you covered your mouth.

“West side second dock, Jesus Christ…”

“I’d better have a decoy shipment then,” Bucky murmured. “Just in case.”

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” you said. “The cops will follow that shipment and bust it with any other shipment that day.”

“I’ll talk to my guys in the force, let’s see how that plays out.”

“Both us and the cops winning,” you mused. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“They’re not winning, it’s just going to be their small victory so that they’ll shut up for a while,” Bucky said as he stood up. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Sure,” you said as he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll meet my dad but I’ll be home around dinner time.”

“Have fun,” he said and walked out of the apartment, and you heaved a sigh.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

                                                    *

Your lunch with your father was pretty interesting, because you knew he was trying his hardest not to let you know about the so-called attack, but he was way too tense for you to think everything was going well. You took a look at the bodyguards in the restaurant, then sipped your rosé, leaning back.

“So,” you said. “How is everything with the business?”

He shot you a look.

“You took longer than I thought you would,” he commented and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m just making small talk—”

“Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine,” you said. “I heard about the attack.”

“Of course you did,” he muttered more to himself, then sipped his drink. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

You tried to control your expression.

“I know,” you said. “Doesn’t mean I’m not curious. Do we know who’s behind the attack?”

“Not yet,” he said. “We’re searching for it though.”

Tension churned at your stomach but you nodded your head calmly.

“What shipment was it?” you asked. “You normally have multiple men around the perimeter, but Bucky said it looked like a sneak attack. How did they get past your people? Did they kill them?”

Your father licked his lips and heaved a sigh.

“Ian was responsible of that shipment,” he said, making you arch a brow. “He must’ve—Y/N.”

“What?” you asked innocently and he licked his lips.

“He will stumble a bit, everyone does when they first start taking responsibilities.”

You hummed.

“Funny,” you said. “I didn’t notice that with Bucky. Or Sam. Or Steve.”

“Ian is a bit more…enthusiastic to prove himself than they were, perhaps.”

You tried not to grimace at the blatant lie and took another sip so that you could control your expression.

“I’ve been told he’s fixing the situation,” your father said. “He’s much more angry at the situation than you or me.”

“But are you angry?”

“It happened in my territory, and it was my shipment, my business that they attacked,” your father said even though his voice was calm. “Of course I am angry.”

Guilt burned at your stomach but you knew you couldn’t let it affect you; what you and Bucky had done was necessary.

It wasn’t just your father’s business, it was going to be yours one day and you had to prove that Ian was a terrible option.

For the business, and the city.

One of the bodyguards came closer to mutter something to his ear and he nodded, then wiped at his mouth.

“Duty calls,” he said and you took another sip of your wine, then put the glass on the table.

“Alright.”

“Want me to drop you off?”

“No need, my driver is here,” you said as you both walked out of the restaurant. He hugged you and you kissed him on the cheek.

“Be careful.”

“Always am,” he said and one of the bodyguards opened the door for you, but before you got in, you heard your father’s voice again.

“Y/N.”

You turned around to look at him better. “Yeah?”

“How would you prevent it?” he asked. “If it was your shipment?”

A smug grin threatened to pull at your lips but you bit inside your cheek, then heaved a sigh.

“Twenty men around the perimeter,” you said. “Additional ten in every half mile, three hour shifts in rotation. Couple of cops under our pay in the outer skirts, preferably by the bridge and at least three people watching the street footage so that we would know the license plates of every car that gets a bit too close for future reference.”

He blinked a couple of times, the impressed expression on his face impossible to miss and you felt your stomach do a happy flip, then shrugged your shoulder, forcing yourself to focus.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you told him. “I’m not your heir, am I?”

With that, you got in the car and the bodyguard closed the door, the driver starting the car immediately. You grinned to yourself and leaned back in the seat as the car started moving through the street smoothly and you closed your eyes.

“Yet,” you corrected yourself. “I’m not your heir yet.”

                                            *

Bucky had texted you, saying he would miss dinner because of a meeting taking long so you had ordered some takeout, curled up on the couch with Alpine in your lap. Towards midnight he still hadn’t come home so you texted him only for him to text back the meeting was still going on, and you picked a show to bingewatch in the meantime.

For some reason you liked it when Bucky was beside you on the bed when you went to sleep.

You were so focused on the episode that you hadn’t even noticed when your phone buzzed, so when you saw the text notification from Ian, you frowned slightly.

You and Ian didn’t really text each other.

You touched the notification and sat up straighter much to Alpine’s meow of protest the moment you saw the picture of Bucky and Anna by the docks. Bucky was leaning back against the car with Anna right beside him, laughing at what you could only assume something he said.

From: Ian

Ouch. Didn’t last long huh?

Fury spread through you so fast that it made your head spin and you stood up from the couch, Alpine jumping to the floor as well. Your jaw clenched as you zoomed into the picture, then ran a hand over your face.

Of course.

The so called meeting was just a fucking excuse.

You didn’t even know why you were getting so angry, after all this whole thing was just a business deal but that was the thing; you two had a deal. That was his only request going into this marriage, that you two wouldn’t see anyone else behind each other’s back but there he was, breaking the same rule he had implemented. A mob boss not being faithful wasn’t supposed to be a surprise; you had grown up seeing it over and over again, Bucky’s own father included but this?

This was disrespect, and the fact that Ian was the one telling you about it made it so much worse.

You tried to see through the fury pounding in your head, tossed the phone aside and dug your fingernails into your palms, gritting your teeth.

That motherfucker.

How dare he?

By the time the front door opened, you had been pacing in the living room for the last half an hour, still lost in your own anger but Bucky’s voice made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Honey I’m home,” he joked as he walked in and you narrowed your eyes at him, making him tilt his head.

“What happened?”

Even if anger was radiating off of you and you knew that he could tell, you managed to smile but you had a feeling it was more of a snarl.

“How was the meeting?” you asked, your voice eerily calm and he licked his lips.

“It was fine?” he said like a question. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m about to be shot?”

You walked to the couch to grab your phone, then found the pic, your hands nearly shaking as you tossed him the phone with more force than necessary. His gaze fell on the screen before he looked at you again.

“You put people on my tail?”

“You fucking asshole!” you lunged at him but he had the same training as you had – probably heavier considering the cage fight- because he caught you basically in mid-air and twisted your arm, then pushed you before you could grab him.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “You know what the psychiatrist said about open communication, let’s talk about this.”

“You’re going behind my back?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, it was a business—”

“Bullshit!”

“A business meeting,” he said as you took off your earrings to toss them aside, making him pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Charm baby, let’s not.”

“Oh no, let’s,” you said as you jumped over the coffee table but he caught your leg before you could reach him and threw you easily to the corner of the room. You landed on your feet just as easily but the vase by the corner fell off its stand to smash into pieces. Bucky’s bodyguards by the hallway must’ve heard the noise because the door slammed open, Hannah and Paul walking inside with their guns raised.

“Mr. Barnes?”

“Leave,” Bucky ordered, rolling his shoulders back as you gritted your teeth and pulled the pocket knife out of your waistband, flipping it open.

“…Sir?”

“Everything is alright, me and my wife are just having a small disagreement.”

“Mr. Barnes, are you—”

“She’s not going to do anything to me Paul but I can’t guarantee the same thing for you,” Bucky said. “Leave, close the door behind you.”   

Hannah and Paul lowered their guns, exchanging glances.

“Leave!” you snapped and they both rushed out of the door, closing it behind them in a hurry. Bucky gave you a smirk and opened his arms as if inviting you.

“It was a business meeting, princess.”

“In the middle of the night?” you asked as you stepped closer to him, both of you circling each other. “By the water? Are all your meetings that romantic?”

“We had to go check the shipment’s security because I don’t want to raise any alarms when Ian’s shipment gets busted—”

“Do you seriously think I’m that much of a gullible idiot?”

“Nah, I think you’re just jealous. It’s adorable, really.”

“I’m not fucking jealous!” you exclaimed as you lunged at him again, this time wrapping your legs around his neck to slam him to the ground even if he managed to knock the blade off your hand in the meantime. As soon as you two hit the ground, he caught your leg and flipped you two over, his hand shooting up to grab you by the neck, not putting any pressure but still strong.

Oh—

Oh fuck, this wasn’t supposed to make your heartbeat faster.

The only sound in the room was both of you breathing hard while you glared at each other for a moment, desire roaring through your veins, making your head spin.

Then his lips crashed into yours.

All your senses were too full of him for you to even think it wasn’t the best idea and to be completely honest, you couldn’t give two fucks whether it was a good idea or not, especially not when he was kissing you like this. You had no idea when you two had started ripping each other’s clothes but it was only when you felt his fingertips brush your bare waist, awakening fire underneath your skin did you realize you were only in your bra. You pulled at his crisp button up shirt until the buttons scattered around the room before you impatiently pushed it down his arms and bit at his lip, making him hiss for a moment to pull back to look down at you.

“Behave,” he warned you, smirking slightly and you tilted your head, arching a brow.

“You first.”  

He let out a chuckle, then winked at you and leaned down to kiss you again.

Chapter 28

[evolnoomym]

I’ll Make You Love Me💋

Bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: In Joel’s eyes you are an unpleasant person. Yet he has to pretend as if he would not want to get rid of you for Sarah’s sake, she loves you so much you are her best friend. Well Joel also feels terrible for the rather unethical thoughts he has of you.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni !!!!!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: no y/n, introducing “Lucky”, female oc character, Sarah is 18, Lucky is 21, Joel’s age is not mentioned but he’s at least double Lucky’s age, degradation, humiliation, Dark, Joel is mean, he calls you Bitch/Slut/Junkie, spanking, dub-con, Daddy Kink, Manspreading hehe 😉, pervy!Joel, tears, Joel enjoys her tears, manhandling, hair pulling, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, a tiny fluffy moment, alludes to BJ, Joel can also be nice,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @toxicanonymity ‘s manspreading olympics. ❤️‍🔥

Shoutout to @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics for the dividers ❤️

Big thank you to @jennaispunk and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading ❤️‍🔥🌙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 💋

Songs I listened to while writing:

What You Do by James Gillespie

Bad Girls by M.I.A

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey

Waiting Game by BANKS

Into It by Chase Atlantic

You should feel bad for thinking of him in such a peculiar way. You should be ashamed for even considering him an option. He is totally off limits considering he’s much older, a busy mature man and most importantly Sarah’s Dad. Sarah the sweet girl that has been your Bestfriend for over 2 years.

It excited you in the beginning how much Joel hated your presence in his daughter’s life. He didn’t approve of this friendship ever since Sarah at 16 years old first brought you, her 19 year old friend, over for the first time.

In front of Sarah he tried his hardest to appear polite but you could see right through his facade from the beginning. And one evening when Sarah was already fast asleep you gave Joel a piece of your mind in the kitchen.

“Mister Miller let’s stop these silly games we both know what’s going on…you don’t like me and I couldn’t fucking care less.” You scoff and get off the counter, slowly drawing closer to Joel “You hate me so much but Sarah loves me soooooo much and imagine how upset she’d be to know that her Daddy doesn’t want her to be happy. Wouldn’t that be a shame,huh?” You question with an enticing head tilt.

Now you’re right in front of him, toe to toe with big bad imposing Joel Miller. You can feel the pulling in your lower belly from being so close and most importantly smelling his manly musky scent. You remind yourself that you gotta stay focused if you want to win this game.

You get even closer until your able to place your hands on his warm broad chest sliding them slightly upwards his shoulders. “What the hell r ya doin?” Joel hisses.

You lean up to whisper in his ear “Nothing, just letting you know that I eat guys like you for breakfast, I chew you up and spit you out. You’re not a threat to me, old man.” You pull back and give him a sinister sickly smile.

The wickedness in your tone causes goosebumps to prickle on his flesh.

You feed off of seeing him scared. You enjoy knowing what kinda effect you have on this usually so collected man.

“Goodnight Mister Miller, better start sleeping with one eye open from now on.” You giggle while skipping up the stairs.

That was the start of it all.

Now 2 years later with Sarah just having turned 18, Joel realizes that you two are gonna keep him on his toes even more than already.

The 18th birthday celebration was already a disaster, what Joel assumed would be a relaxed family gathering turned into you crashing the party and taking Sarah out, of course Sarah was excited so how could Joel say no.

Well when you two didn’t return at 12 pm like promised he admittedly got worried, but he wanted to trust Sarah so he tried to stay calm.

At 3 am he hears the screeching tires from some show off guys car and loud drunkish giggling. The princesses have officially arrived back home from their trip, almost 4 hours too late.

When Joel opens the front door he sees you and Sarah practically half draped over your shoulder stubbling up the starirs in sloppy drunk steps. You two are giggling and mumbling at each other in a language Joel does not understand, it certainly can’t be English.

You immediately glock his disgruntled face, the alcohol cursing through your system emboldens you so you haphazardly shove him out of the way. You sigh loudly and obviously annoyed at his antics all while herding Sarah up the stairs.

Joel cannot believe that after dragging Sarah off, taking her to god knows where, letting her drink and god forbid smoke… you still have the audacity to behave so entitled.

You put Sarah in danger and don’t feel an ounce of remorse. Joel hates your guts, in his eyes you are an entitled little brat that desperately needs to be put in her place.

Even though Joel hates you, he at the same time cannot keep his head clear of dirty images of your young and tight body. He thinks about the pool day where you showed up in the tiniest bikini he could think of.

Prancing around all while he had to resist the urge to just tear it off. You knew he was looking and he knew that you enjoyed his eyes flitting all over your enticing figure.

The both of you were tethering on a dangerous line, that could cause big trouble. How would Sarah feel knowing this is happening behind her back.

You constantly antagonize him like that wearing short skirts and tight shirts with no bra because apparently it’s too warm for that. Running into him, pressing your perky tits against his bicep in passing, coincidentally bending over in front of him. Joel was quickly approaching a breaking point, his resolve crumbling more and more with each time that he had to tug at his throbbing length all while thinking about you.

Joel clearly underestimated how much you’d play him and how much better at it you are. At this rate you’ll win this game. He however has a plan, that might even after everything still save him the success.

Joel only has to wait for the right time to attack, catch you off guard and use that to his advantage.

He gets pulled from his thoughts when he hears something that confuses him, you are singing and it sounds beautiful.

Joel creeps up the stairs as quietly as possible to not alert either of you.

The closer he gets to Sarah's door the clearer it becomes. Joel pushes the bedroom door open by only a few inches to get a look at the situation and it makes his heart roar. You sit on the side of the bed we’re Sarah is nicely tucked in, your body facing Joel but your eyes locked on Sarah’s face. Softly singing a lullaby in a language foreign to him while gently stroking over her cheeks, smoothing the hair out of her face, almost like a mother would with her baby. Something Sarah never got to experience in childhood since her mother left so early on.

Joel realizes that despite the rough exterior you put up there’s more to you than just a cold hearted homewrecker, you care for Sarah, you take care of her and watch over her wherever you two run off to. Joel feels gratitude for someone he admittedly doesn’t know a whole lot about.

Joel has seen enough and retreats back downstairs.

When you stumble into the living room to bid your goodbyes Joel looks like he’s deep in thoughts.

So you announce “Sarah is sleeping, make sure she drinks lotssssssss of water when she wakes up and takes more aspirin if needed. I’m out.”

You turn to walk off when Joel gets up “Hey ya sure bout walkin home now? I can drive ya.” He offers but you decline “Nah it’s alright Mr. Miller I can protect myself, I’ve always done it. Besides, why do you suddenly care,huh?“ you sarcastically laugh while slipping out of the house.

When you’ve turned away from him the snarky smile falls right off your face.

Joel actually felt somewhat sorry that night for the way he treated you all those times before.

That lasted until you decided to smoke weed with Sarah in his lil work shed that was situated in the back of his garden.

Joel would’ve realized either way if not by the smells wafting up his nostrils the moment he entered the shed later in the evening, then surely by Sarah’s unstoppable giggling, her slow mumbled speech or by the food flash she got.

When the two of you begged him to let you sleep over he eagerly agreed. Chalk it up to the weed that numbs your brain that this quick reaction didn’t seem suspicious.

Joel knows you will find him, you’ll see the open back door and walk right into his trap. You never sleep the night through when you spend it over at the Millers, he can hear you getting up and wandering around the house. Sarah on the other hand has got to be blessed with an extremely deep sleep.

The thought of overpowering you makes him smile giddily into the darkness of the shed.

As usual you wake up in the middle of the night, ever since being a little child the sleeping became a struggle and nothing works except tiring yourself out.

You get up out of Sarah’s huge plush bed, slip out into the hallway and down the stairs. There you immediately catch the wide open back door leading to the garden. Odd, Mister Miller would never in a million years leave that open.

You walk up to the sliding doors and when you stand in the threshold staring into the dark backyard you see that the shed is left open too.

Out of stupid curiosity you decide to investigate, not the smartest to perhaps walk right into a burglar who has a weapon but you don’t really care.

So you pat the way across the cold grass, it tickles the sole of your bare feet and the fresh midnight breeze actually feels awfully pleasant on your heated skin. Halfway you stop and glance upward at the beautiful full moon shining down on you.

After taking a deep breath you continue onward towards the shed.

When you reach the opening of the shed there’s really nothing you can see or hear. So you step further into it, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

You feel like someone is watching you but you are unable to pinpoint where it’s coming from. It’s unsettling so you do something considerably stupid “Hello, hello is there anyone? Mister Miller are you in here?” You call out with a shaking voice.

No response.

A light flickering in the center of the room catches you off guard and now you can see him, the one that watched you.

Mr.Miller is sitting on a bar chair behind him is his working table, he leans his back against the edge of the table.

Your eyes immediately go to his slightly sweaty face -the Texas heat is unrelenting even in the middle of the night- he looks gorgeous illuminated by the tiny lamp glowing behind his shoulder on the cupboard. He’s smirking sinisterly at you.

You let your eyes wander over his broad shoulders that are clad in a green flannel. Inevitably your eyes slip down to his wide spread jeans covered thighs, they look so big and muscular.

He catches your staring and drops a hand on his thigh that slowly starts stroking up and down. Making you gulp audibly.

“M..M-..Mister M..Miller what are you doing here?” You stammer out.

“I was waitin for ya to come find me.” He huffs gruffly.

He continues “Close the door behind ya Lucky.”

You feel somewhat hypnotized by his slow calculated words as you, out of pure reflex, reach for the handle behind you.

As you shut the door, effectively trapping yourself with him he murmurs “That’s a good girl. Ya do know how to listen Lucky Girl.”

Hearing Joel call you a good girl in his signature dark molasses like voice had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Hmm ya like that baby, huh?” He inquires

“N..no, that would be fuckin weird.” You try sounding sincere but to no avail Joel has seen through you a long time ago.

“Lucky you are liar, a slut, a junkie..-“

You hiss “What did you just say?” While stepping closer to where he sits.

“Ya heard me right Lucky, you are a fuckin junkie, smoking weed in my shed with Sarah. Are ya outta your mind?” He throws back

“You gotta be kidding me, right? Big Bad Mr Miller is shitting his pants cuz of a bit of weed.” You wheeze.

“That’s enough.” He decides, getting up in one swift imposing movement. Suddenly he’s the one towering over you and he looks pissed.

He’s on you in the blink of an eye threading his hand through your hair grabbing a decent amount by which he pulls you with him.

“Ouch…ouch what the fuck let me go.” You huff while trying to get his hands out of your hair. But he doesn’t appreciate the disobedience and starts pulling even harder, which brings you to tears from the pain.

“Ohhh poor baby Lucky, look at those tears, ya not havin’ fun huh? That’s too bad darlin’ but I don’t care.”

He sits back down on the chair and in one swift motion pulls you over his thighs. Your belly rests on his crotch and your whole world is turned upside down.

“Clearly no one has ever taught ya a lesson, that’s why ya always behave like a bratty bitch.”

His free hand flits to your sleeping shorts and practically tears them off of you. At the ripping sound you yelp.

“Hmm look at that plump ass and those sweet lacy panties…ya always wear this slutty underwear when ya have a sleepover?” All while he’s groping you.

“What the hell are you doing Joel?”

“Aw is it not Mr.Miller anymore? Have we lost our manners lil girl? Or is there a better name for me, hmm?” He inquires.

For some reason you know exactly what he wants to hear but you're not inclined to give in. Yet.

“It’s fine baby ya don’t need to say it now, I’ll make you scream that goddamn name you fucking slut.” He pulls on your hair “Ya hear me bitch.?”

All you manage is a meak nod before he lets go off your face.

You can feel his warm and calloused hand on your cheek squeezing, stroking and poking. Then his hand is gone but not for long. You can’t even react. He's that fast in delivering the first smack to your behind.

“Ya gonna take what i give ya and behave cuz you wanna be a good girl, right? Ya wanna be my good girl,hmm?”

“Y..y-yes I do Mr.Miller.” You say defeated.

“Atta Girl. I think 10 should do it, for now, until ya feel like acting up again..”

He is unrelenting when it comes to punishing you, each time the impact is harder and more unexpected than the previous. You have to bite your lip in order to suppress a moan, even though it hurts it’s incredible. You can feel yourself becoming wet, with each time that his hand collides with your behind more slick gushes out of your pussy. At this point there must be a wet patch visible.

His bulge pressing against your stomach tells you how much this is affecting him too.

“Lucky I know ya try to hide it but I can smell how she’s leaking and if I check I’m sure I’ll find that cunt all sloppy for me, right?”

“Y..y-yes.”

“That’s what i thought.” And with that he continues the assault on your cheeks.

And it may be only ten but he makes them count, the blows are measured and hard. You guess your cheeks must be glowing at this point.

When he finally reaches 10 it feels like hours have passed since you decided to go wander around. He’s massaging your bruised ass. You finally feel like you’re getting a moment of peace but that couldn’t be further from the truth, because Joel threads his hand back into your hair and yanks you to face him.

He’s just staring at you, accessing you and then he kisses you.

It’s rough, teeth clashing, tongues swirling around, his hands urgently grabbing your face, your fingers tangled in his graying curls.

Though the kissing is over before it can escalate too far, Joel is once again pulling you by your hair, this time he’s more gentle, he pulls you off of his knees and pushes you down on them in the space between his spread thighs. You’re at eye level with his crotch now that looks painfully hard.

As you peek up at him through your lashes you muse “Looks like you got a problem, a big problem…Daddy. You want me to help you?” All while innocently tilting your head at him.

He grabs your face roughly “Shut up Lucky and put ya smart mouth to better use.”

“Don’t underestimate me Daddy. I’ll make you love me.” You say while giving him a cheeky wink.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Npt: @toxicanonymity @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @joelsdagger @tonysopranosrobe @luxurychristmaspudding @mountainsandmayhem @moonlitbirdie @joelalorian @sawymredfox @thundermartini @ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @pedropeach @joelsgreys @joelstummy @ovaryacted @iamasaddie @wintrwinchestr @littlemisspascal

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You walk along the halls of the garishly large house. You suppose anything compared to your apartment is huge. Former apartment? You mourn the loss of your previous life as it starts to sink in. No long distracted by the bristly mustache of its delightful effect on you, you can’t help but descend slowly into despair. 

You narrow your eyes at the fabric strained over shoulders blades in front of you. All he had to do was say please and be polite. He couldn’t even give you his order then blamed you for not knowing.

How on earth are you supposed to know who he is? It isn’t your fault no one told you. Now you’re starting to get mad at them too. Bre really put you in it, didn’t she?” 

“Are you growling?” Lloyd asks over his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. 

“At me?” He snickers. 

“No... I should,” you grumble, “so, did you think about that sweater? Maybe a blanket? My nipples are so hard, they’re starting to hurt.” 

He stops and turns to face you. You walk straight into him and he grabs your shoulders, pushing you back to stand at arm’s length. He looks you up and down with a squint, his mustache slanting with his mouth. 

“I don’t negotiate but if I give you a blanket, do you promise to stay out of the way?” 

“Sir, if you opened the front door at this very moment, you would never see me again.” 

“Noted,” he says grimly, “go in here and stay.” He points to the door next to him as he releases you, turning the handle slowly, “don’t break anything. There should be a blanket, just don’t get too cozy.” 

“If I may, I think we would both be much happier if you let me go. Look at it this way, you got your rocks off, I got mine jangled, and now we both know a lot more about ourselves. You don’t have to ever see me again--” 

“Be quiet,” he reaches to pinch your lips shut, “Christ Almighty, you don’t shut the fuck up.” 

You try to talk past his fingers but just make a weird noise between your sealed lips. You shrug and raise your hands in surrender. He lets you go and sighs, waving through the open door. 

“Shutting fuck up,” you lift a hand in a salute and he quickly smacks it down. You shake your fingers out and hiss, “ow.” 

“Stop doing that,” he demands. 

“Fine,” you make a face and turn past him. At this point, you don’t care. This house is too cold and you don’t think he’ll take your advice about his central air bill. Looks like he can afford it, even if the ozone might suffer. “Erm, thanks?” 

“Whatever,” he grabs the door and shuts it behind you with a snap. 

You turn to it as you hear the lock click. His footsteps march off swiftly and you wiggle the handle. Drats. You could try a window but you’re hardly equipped for the descent. 

You face the room and look around. It’s nice. For New Jersey, which this isn’t. Amid the golden lamps, the velvet chaise, and the safari statues, a fluffy leopard print throw calls your name. You bound over to the clamshell chair and swipe it up, wrapping your shivering figure in the faux fur. At least you hope it’s not real. How would Floyd like it if someone skin his lip for, er, well... what could you even do with that? 

You sit and bask in the warmth. Oh, you almost feel human. If you didn’t smell of sweat and sex. What a pervert!  

It’s all so twisted the more you think of it. Worse is how much you enjoy it. Even if he’s a big dodo head, you have to admit, he knows what he’s doing. Well, compared to you, who doesn’t? You’ve seen it all but haven’t done so much. 

You peer around. It’s really tempting to play with that wooden tiger figurine or that metal orby thing with all the rings. You close your eyes and resist. How can he put you in this room and expect you not to go wild. Literally. It’s like being in a jungle. You gave him the benefit of the doubt about the mustache but this room alone assures you he’s living in some 70s exploitation fantasy. 

You curl up on your side in the chair and sigh. You close your eyes and think. This morning, everything was normal. Kind of. You almost long for the beginning of the spiral now that you’re spinning in it.

How long is he going to keep you here? And what happens after? Do you get your money back? Your apartment? Definitely, not your dignity. 

You don’t remember falling asleep but it’s a happy relief until consciousness breaks through like a nail through paper. You wake up with a lurch and nearly fall out of the chair, gaping up at the blue eyes boring down into you. You give Floyd with no F a sheepish smile. 

“Oh, hello, sir,” you sit up cautiously, “I’m happy to report I kept my hands to myself.” 

“You snore. Loud.” 

“Ah, well, I’ve had quite the day. I guess I really needed a nap--” 

“Get up,” he grabs you by the back of the neck and forces you to your feet. 

“Ow, eek,” you pull at his wrist, “did your meeting go okay?” 

“Why the fuck do you care?” He snarls. 

“I don’t, I was being polite,” you try to wriggle free, “judging by the attitude, it didn’t--” 

“What the fuck do you know about my business?” He snips. 

“As much as I wanna know. Nada,” you roll your eyes and manage to break free. “Ouch, bro.” 

“Bro?” He grimaces. 

“Dude, sir, whatever,” you huff and catch the blanket as it slips, “I’ve been nothing but nice, you know, but you’re starting to piss me off.” 

“I’m pissing you off?” He tilts his head and crosses his arms, “you--” 

“Got it. You can’t stand me but it didn’t stop you from diving into my southern hemisphere,” you sniff. 

The air roils with his agitation. You hug yourself defiantly as you cling to blanket and stare him in the face. He looks down at you, bringing a hand up to rub his chin. He sucks his teeth and reaches with his other hand to yank the blanket away. You cry out, hanging onto it as he lurches you.  

The blanket stretches between you in a tug-of-war. He nearly takes you of your feet as he gives it a hefty pull. You hold onto it, planting your feet but he easily keeps hold of his end. You use all your strength to add to the tension and as you see him go to yank again, you let go.

Lloyd staggers back as the blanket drops from his grasp. He flails and hits the chaise, crashing over it as he bounces off the cushion onto the other side. He groans as his feet remain atop the velvet. You inch over to look at him, his shoulders to the floor as his face strains. 

“You stupid little bitch,” he growls. 

“Sir,” you bite down on a smile as you stand over him, “why are you so mad? You won.” 

[loveydoveysortastuff]

Feast Upon You...✨

Anon: How would Wanda react to someone hitting on her girlfriend? 🔞

Rating/Warnings: NSFW. Public sex, eating out, fingering, jealous Wanda. Pairing: Dom!Wanda MaximoffxSub!Reader Word Count: 1364

This is my first fic so please be nice! Comments and feedback are welcome :)

If you have a prompt, send me an ask! - Kara ✨🌛

✨Wanda would quite literally freeze on the spot.

 ✨Walking back from the bar with both of your drinks in her hand, when she spots the jerk putting his arm around your shoulders, she’d quite literally stop moving.

✨And glare directly at the man who is trying to put his moves onto you.

 ✨The glasses in her hand would creak and groan against her strong grip and Wanda (not so secretly) wills one of them to break, just so she can shove one of the sharp shards through his eye socket.

 ✨You let out an awkward laugh and try your best to create room in the already enclosed space of the booth.

✨It does little to make a gap between you both; his leering body chasing you, eager to keep you pressed to him.

 ✨Wanda catches the moment you heave at his smell: a grotesque combination of sweat and stale alcohol filling your nostrils.

 ✨When you finally glance at your girlfriend, your eyes are full of irritation.

 ✨That look alone makes Wanda move again; legs moving quickly as she strides towards the two of you.

 ✨The man doesn’t look from you when she clears her throat, in an attempt to be polite.

 ✨Or when she slams the two drinks on the table.

✨He barely flinches when Wanda says: “Hey, dickbag.”

✨Instead, he cosies up closer to you, reaching a finger to trace it down your jawbone.

 ✨And mercifully, that’s Wanda’s final straw.

✨Her eyes glow red and it illuminates the dark corner the three of you are in; and finally, that ominous glow catches his attention.

✨“Can I help you?”

✨You can pinpoint the exact second he registers that it’s Wanda Maximoff glowering down at him; not some random stranger.

✨He all but jerks, face paling like a mother’s face in her early weeks of pregnancy, and you can’t help but giggle at that.

 ✨“Not so cocky now are you?”

✨“I didn’t - "

✨ “Didn’t what? Believe my girlfriend when she said she was waiting for me? I suggest you move. Now.”

 ✨He falters and that alone makes Wanda’s anger spike.

✨The red consumes her eyes and clouds around her fingers; and the man, lets out a pathetic whimper before his body is thrown from Wanda’s seat and out of the double doors to the bar.

 ✨Wanda doesn’t even check to see if he’s okay, doesn’t give the blatant stares and whispers a second look, as she grabs you by the arm and all but drags you into the back.

✨Shoving you into the vacant (and mercifully very clean) disabled toilet.

 ✨Smashing her lips to yours seconds before the door can even fully shut. Wanda not caring if anyone sees.

 ✨It takes your breath away and you stumble backwards; feet tripping over themselves as Wanda completely takes charge of you, hands gripping the back of your neck so tightly it’s borderline painful.

 ✨"Who owns you?” She growls as your ass bumps into the small sink on the wall.

 ✨"You do, mommy.”

✨"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, prinzessin? My good girl."

✨"Yes, mommy. I'm yours. Always yours." 

✨Her lips move down to your neck and she bares her teeth.

 ✨It drives Wanda wild, licking and nipping at your skin that is scented with the perfume you always wear.

✨Your head lulls back, eyes rolling shut, a happy sigh escaping your lips.

✨Wanda knows your neck is your weak point, knows that all she has to do it grab it with her hand or bite down with her teeth, are you're nothing but putty in her hands.

✨"Did he hurt you?" she asks.

✨Your brain falters and Wanda nips you, causing you to let out a pained gasp.

✨"I asked a question, baby. Answer it."

✨You force your brain to focus.

✨"I - no, he didn't, mommy."

✨"Are you sure, baby?" Wanda asks as she moves to the other side of your neck. "Waste of space, hitting on what's mine."

✨"I'm sure."

✨She hoists you with little to no warning, picking you up and settling you on the edge of the cupboard as her lips find your own again.

✨"I want to taste you." She tells you, fingers pulling up at your skirt. "And I want you to be loud. Let the whole bar hear you."

✨She goes to yank your panties down but only finds your soft skin instead.

✨Her eyebrow quirks up, a smile pulling at her lips.

✨"No panties this evening, hmm?"

✨You shake your head, blushing slightly.

✨"Naughty, naughty girl." Wanda murmurs. “I’ll have to think of a different trophy to take then, won’t I?” 

✨She very slowly drops to her knees between your spread legs and you can feel how wet and needy your pussy is. 

✨Wanda’s mouth waters and her tongue pokes out to lick her bottom lip. 

✨”I was thinking about taking you to get ice cream after,” she says, planting a kiss on your left inner thigh. “But I think I’d much rather eat you for dessert - what do you think?” 

✨And Wanda - your ever crafty girlfriend - waits until you open your mouth to reply before leaning forward and kissing you directly where you ache for her. 

✨You let out a strangled sound, one that is on the verge of being just too loud. 

✨She kisses you again, wet mouth pressing against your soft lips; doing so until your hands latch into her hair and you try to tug her where you need her the most. 

✨Her tongue parts you, your taste filling Wanda’s mouth as she rises higher until she finds your puffy clit with ease; arms worming around your thighs to keep you in place. 

✨Her lips close around it and she sucks your clit into her mouth.

✨”Oh fuck.” 

✨There’s a dull thud as your head falls back. 

✨Wanda’s eyes drift up to look at you and she smirks against you, seeing how your body is already tensing against the mirror behind. Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth and your eyes are screwed shut. 

✨”You’re soaked, darling.” Wanda says, slurping you greedily; a string of your wetness attached to her lips. “I bet I could slip three fingers into you so easily.” 

✨She attacks your clit, tongue flicking at it with such a pace that it has you arching. 

✨You hate that you’re already so worked up, hate that she edged you for two hours that morning because you refused to drink your water the day before. 

✨But you love the stretch as she slowly pushes three of her fingers into you. 

✨Love how you clench around her and almost pull her hair from her roots as she curls them just right into you.

✨”There you go, baby.” Wanda bites your thigh again. 

✨When she moves her fingers and slams them back into you, her mouth finds your clit again and you moan, toes curling. 

✨There is one thing you adore about Wanda, and it’s the use of her hands - no, her fingers. She’s a woman of many talents and her finger work is definitely in the top 3.

✨You’re chanting the word fuck, body coiled tight, and you both know your release is imminent. 

✨”You have 5 seconds to cum.” Wanda orders, fingers working in and out of you quickly. “Otherwise I will edge you until next week.” 

✨“Shit.” 

✨It hits you when she gets to 3, a body trembling orgasm that tears through you violently and leaves you with trembling legs around Wanda’s head. 

✨She slurps everything you have to offer, drinking it down as if she was a starving woman and you can’t help but grind your pussy down onto her face; desperate to chase that second high that is just tantalisingly out of reach. 

✨And just when you think Wanda is going to grant you another release, she stops. 

✨Pulling away and out of you as you let out a mewl of incoherent words. 

✨"I’m taking you home and you will be cumming until I decide to stop, understood?” 

✨You nod. 

✨"My good little slut. Mine."

[puppym3]

heartstrings and lullabies

-pt 1! pt 2!

soft!seungmin x afab!reader

summary: after losing your biological father, you and your mother frequently move, eventually landing in Seungmin's home. initially uncomfortable, you bond with Seungmin, in which you help him care for his baby brother, Yun. your relationship evolves from awkwardness to something else.

wc: 4.5

warnings! : mention of deceased parent, family struggles, a lil awkward, fluffy, very fluffy, seungmin is good with kids, pining!, flirting, slow burn

(upcoming warning: upcoming chapters will include smut.)

a/n: this is my first writing ever, so i didn't want to do the entire thing in one go! please give me feedback + suggestions! <3

---

Memories fill my mind as the car drives down a familiar winding road. The hum of the engine contrasts with the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I'm lost in my thoughts, reflecting on the past and the change it brings. I'm haunted by the death of my biological father at a young age. The loss was difficult for my mother, who struggled to deal with her grief. 

We moved from place to place, searching for stability and connection. With each new boyfriend, we were forced to leave behind the familiar. I wish for something more lasting, somewhere to call home. 

My mom knocks on a stranger's door, and I'm uncomfortable with the idea of yet another temporary home.

I scanned the house, uncomfortable knowing this stranger’s place would be my home for about a year. My mom knocked on the door as I awkwardly held my luggage. I heard shuffles behind the door, and a younger man opened it.

Was my mom going after younger guys now? He looked at my age, and it made me cringe internally.

Despite my internal cringe, I couldn’t deny his striking features; he had dark hair with some blonde stripes down the middle, a nice structured face, and puppy-like eyes. I had to admit that he was way more attractive than the men my mom had been dating previously.

He stood there with a puzzled look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Are you here for Mr. Kim?" he inquired, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Seungmin! It’s nice to meet you," my mom exclaimed with genuine warmth, disregarding his confusion as she enveloped him in a tight embrace. Seungmin's initial hesitation melted away as he reluctantly returned the hug, his posture betraying a mix of surprise and discomfort.

With an awkward smile, my mom gestured toward me. "This is my daughter," she introduced, her voice tinged with hope. "I hope you two will get along nicely."

I followed my mom into the house, a sense of apprehension gnawing at me as I shut the door behind me. Offering Seungmin a polite nod and a hesitant smile, I silently wished for this encounter to unfold smoothly. To my relief, he returned the gesture with a tentative nod of his own, his expression a blend of curiosity and reservation.

Before any awkward silence could settle in, a presence loomed behind Seungmin. I turned to see an older man emerging into view, his arrival signaling the end of our brief moment of introduction. The way that my mom's face lit up at the sight of him, I could tell that he was her actual boyfriend.

As my mom rushed over to greet her boyfriend, leaving Seungmin and me in a slightly awkward standoff, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. He seemed out of place, caught in the middle of this unexpected familial encounter.

Seungmin cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had descended upon us. "Um, would you like me to show you to your room?" He offered, his voice a tad uncertain.

I nodded, relieved to have a reason to escape the tension hanging in the air. Following him through the house, I couldn't help but notice the subtle hints of his personality reflected in the décor: a bookshelf filled with an eclectic mix of titles, a guitar resting in the corner, and photographs adorning the walls, capturing moments with the tiny family. Some pictures consisted of Seungmin, the father, and a baby nestled in his arms.

As Seungmin guided me through the corridors of the house, his footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards, I couldn't help but notice the flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. His hesitant smile, though fleeting, hinted at his composed exterior.

As we reached my temporary room, the tranquility of the moment was shattered by the sudden wail of a baby from across the hallway. Seungmin's expression faltered, a flicker of concern passing over his features before he regained his composure.

"Make yourself comfortable," he murmured, his voice tinged with a note of resignation as he gestured toward the room. With a fleeting glance, he vanished into the corridor, leaving me alone with my thoughts amidst the backdrop of distant cries.

I found myself alone in the room, the distant sound of the baby's cries echoing in the air. Seungmin's departure left me with a flurry of unanswered questions, his enigmatic demeanor adding to the mystery surrounding him.

This was the first instance where one of my mom's partners had children from a previous relationship, adding a layer of complexity to our situation. It stirred a sense of unease within me, highlighting the reality that we didn't quite belong in this family dynamic. My mom's nature and habitual relationships made it seem like we were mere intruders in the lives of others.

Before I knew it, a week had passed, and I found myself confined in my room, surrounded by the empty room as I stared out the window and listened to my music. I could hear my mom’s voice in the distance, and she approached my room and knocked on the door, creaking it open slightly to speak to me.

"Sweetheart, Joon and I are heading out tonight. Can you and Seungmin take care of the baby for us?"

Caught in the room's stillness, I turned my gaze towards my mom, her silhouette framed against the soft glow of the hallway light. 

"I... I can," I mumbled in response, my voice barely audible even to my ears. The thought of caring for a baby, let alone alongside Seungmin, filled me with a sense of uncertainty. I had never been around children, and I had no intention of bonding with these strangers if I was going to have to forget their faces later on.

My mom offered me a reassuring smile: "Thank you, sweetheart. I promise it won't be for too long, and that boy looks tired of taking care of little Yun on his own," she said before retreating down the hallway.

-

As the evening descended into stillness, I found myself reluctantly making my way towards the source of the distant cries. Seungmin's presence greeted me as I entered the nursery.

"Hey," he said awkwardly with a practiced smile, his eyes reflecting exhaustion. "I'm sorry if he’s bothering you.”

I offered a tight-lipped smile in response, my gaze shifting towards the tiny bundle of blankets nestled in his arms. The baby, Yun, gurgled softly, his chubby cheeks flushed with warmth as he squirmed in Seungmin's embrace.

"It's okay," I replied softly, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "I've never really been around babies before."

Seungmin's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between us. "It takes some getting used to," he admitted, his voice gentle as he adjusted Yun in his arms. "But you'll get the hang of it."

I nodded in response, my eyes lingering on the baby's chubby face as his wide and tired eyes wandered around the room. Despite my reservations, there was a sense of tranquility that settled over me as I watched as Seungmin cradled the baby, his muscles slowly relaxing as he leaned back against the chair.

Seungmin's presence seemed to fill the room with an unexpected warmth; his calm demeanor seemed to be comforting to both me and the baby. As he cooed softly to the Yun, his babbles infused with tenderness, I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. He seemed so at ease in this role, as if caring for Yun came naturally to him.

Lost in the rhythm of Seungmin's movements, I found myself drawn into the intimate moment unfolding before me. The baby's cries softened into gentle murmurs as Seungmin rocked him back and forth, a sense of peace settling over the room like a comforting blanket.

As the night wore on, palpable tension lingered in the air, punctuated only by the soft coos of the baby and the occasional rustle of movement. Seungmin and I found ourselves navigating the unfamiliar territory of caring for little Yun as two people; our interactions were tinged with a subtle awkwardness.

"Um, do you need any help with... uh, anything?" I ventured tentatively, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as I awkwardly hovered near Seungmin.

Seungmin glanced up from his task, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he shook his head. "I think we're okay for now," he replied, his voice gentle yet tinged with a note of hesitance. "But thanks for offering."

I nodded in response, finding myself out of the nursery and letting Seungmin put the baby to sleep.

-

It was past midnight when my eyes reluctantly opened, hearing the familiar sound of distant cries. I forced myself out of bed, rushing to the nursery to hush the baby before his cries woke anyone else up.

When I approached the crib, his eyes fluttered at me, and his critics settled as he reached his arms out to me. I nervously bent down to pick him up, copying the movements of Seungmin unknowingly, even taking in his little mannerisms. I placed him in the crook of my arm and rocked him slowly back and forth, his soft little body snuggling against my chest.

As I cradled Yun in my arms, a sense of trepidation mingled with a newfound sense of responsibility. Despite my initial reluctance, there was something undeniably comforting about the weight of the baby in my arms, his tiny breaths creating a soothing rhythm against my chest.

As I rocked Yun back and forth, his cries gradually subsided into gentle whimpers, his chubby fingers curling around the fabric of my shirt as he nestled closer to me. At that moment, I felt a surge of tenderness swell within me.

Seungmin emerged into the nursery, his tired expression softened by the sight of me cradling Yun in my arms. He watched me silently for a moment, his steps approaching me from behind. His hands softly brushed against my elbow, gently pulling it up. I turned my head to face him.

“So the baby's head is supported better.” His tired voice pierced my ears. I could feel the warmth of his body and the comforting scent of his shampoo, tempting my heavy eyes to close.

"Hey," Seungmin said softly, his voice infused with warmth as he stepped away from me. "It looks like you've got the hang of this now."

I offered a tentative smile in response, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the unexpected comment. "I guess so," I replied sheepishly, my voice barely audible above the gentle hum of the night.

Seungmin reached out to gently stroke Yun's cheek. "You're a natural," he remarked softly, his words echoing with sincerity.

Day after day slipped by, and I found myself in a familiar routine each night, cradling the baby while Seungmin shared snippets of advice. Gradually, I gained the confidence to handle tasks like cooking for him and changing his diapers.

I would find myself eagerly anticipating any chance to steal moments in the nursery, where I could hold Yun close, reveling in the sight of him peacefully asleep. Sometimes, Seungmin would join me, and together we'd find comfort in those quiet moments, simply watching the baby sleep.

No words were ever spoken in those moments, we both seemed to have a mutual understanding of the situation. 

As I placed Yun in his crib at night, I turned to Seungmin, who was standing at the doorway. This is usually the part where we give each other little nods of acknowledgment and part ways. But tonight I felt compelled to say something, just to learn something about him.

“Yun seems to really like you.”

Seungmin seemed startled for a moment, then his gaze softened at my words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I like to think so," he replied softly, his voice tinged with a note of warmth.

There was a moment of silence between us, I felt a strange desire to peel back the layers of Seungmin's guarded demeanor and uncover the person beneath.

"Seungmin, can I ask you something?" I ventured tentatively, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to face me, his expression a blend of curiosity and reservation. "Yeah," he replied, his voice gentle yet guarded.

"Why do you still live here, just to care for Yun?" I said before I could stop myself, the question hanging in the air like an unspoken plea for understanding.

Seungmin seemed perplexed by my question, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. "I suppose... I stay because I care," he said softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "For Yun and my dad. Despite the… challenges, I don’t want Yun to grow up feeling alone.”

"I think I understand," I spoke with the same tone, a sense of gratitude swelling within me. "Thank you, Seungmin."

Before I could grab my things, I could hear his voice from behind me, “But, why do you stay?” he asked, genuinely seeming to want to understand.

That question was one I had asked myself countless times as we moved from house to house, facing uncertainty at every turn. “At first, I wanted to leave,” I began, feeling the vulnerability begin to show in my voice, “but, I guess I missed the feeling of having a full family.”

The room fell quiet as I finished speaking. I could feel Seungmin's eyes on me, silently urging me to continue.

“Seeing you with Yun just struck that feeling in me," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve always wanted that connection.” My voice broke at that confession, I turned away to hide my face from Seungmin.

Seungmin's silence stretched on for a moment, filling the room with a weighty tension. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle, carrying a warmth that seemed to wrap around me like a comforting blanket.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his tone laced with empathy. "I didn't realize..." He trailed off as if searching for the right words.

I turned back to face him, meeting his gaze with uncertainty. "It's okay," I whispered, offering him a small, tentative smile. 

Seungmin nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "Still," he began, his voice tinged with sincerity, "I'm glad you decided to stay,” he hesitated, “Yun... he's lucky to have you."

His words stirred a torrent of emotions within me, threatening to overflow into tears that I struggled to contain. "Thank you, Seungmin," I whispered, my voice barely audible as it broke. 

Seungmin stepped closer, his hand finding its place on my shoulder, offering a comforting presence. He gently rubbed my back in soothing circles, his touch grounding me. It felt natural to wrap my arms around him, seeking solace in his embrace.

I sensed a slight hesitation before he reciprocated, his hands lingering on my sides. The warmth of his body against mine provided a sense of security I desperately needed. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the tears blink from my eyes. 

"You're not alone," Seungmin murmured, his breath warm against my ear. His words, simple yet profound, resonated deeply within me. I took a shaky breath, allowing myself to lean into his support. 

As my tears gradually subsided, I pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes, filled with genuine concern and care, met mine. I offered a small, grateful smile, feeling a bit more composed. "I'm really grateful for you… both," I said, my voice steadier now.

Seungmin's lips curved into a gentle smile as he squeezed my shoulders reassuringly. "Anytime," he replied, his tone carrying a light promise of support. 

Reluctantly pulling away from the comforting embrace, I took a step back, breaking the contact. "Goodnight then," I murmured, mustering a faint smile, I felt his gaze piercing my turned back.

"Goodnight," he replied, his unreadable face turning away from me.

With one last glance at Yun sleeping peacefully in his crib, I made my way out of the nursery.

-

As the days passed, the moments spent caring for Yun with Seungmin by my side became increasingly familiar, yet tinged with a newfound sense of closeness. Our interactions evolved from awkward exchanges to comfortable companionship, each shared a smile and lingering glance igniting a subtle spark between us.

I found myself drawn to Seungmin in ways I couldn't fully comprehend, his presence a constant source of reassurance. There was an undeniable magnetism in the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, in the gentle cadence of his voice as he spoke, in the warmth of his touch when our hands brushed accidentally.

We navigated the intricacies of caring for Yun together, our bond deepened, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. In the quiet moments stolen between cleaning and late-night feedings, I found peace in Seungmin's presence, a sense of belonging that transcended the confines of our temporary arrangement.

Yet, there simmered an undercurrent of unspoken desires and uncharted territories that I felt inside. I was shamefully drawn to him. 

It was in the stolen glances exchanged across the nursery, in the fleeting touches that lingered a moment too long, that the simmering tension between us came to the forefront. There was electricity in the air whenever our paths crossed.

I found myself drawn to the living room one evening, guided by the soft serenade of a guitar. There, beneath the warm glow of the lamps, Seungmin sat, his fingers dancing over the strings, weaving a delicate melody that seemed to hold the room in its thrall. Little Yun, perched on the couch, gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes.

As I approached, the atmosphere seemed to shift, the music casting a subtle spell that drew me closer to Seungmin. His gaze met mine, a gentle smile playing at his lips as he continued to play, his fingers moving with practiced grace.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his voice barely audible over the gentle strumming.

"Hey," I murmured in response, settling onto the couch beside Yun, my attention fixed on Seungmin's mesmerizing performance.

As the final notes faded away, a comfortable silence settled over us, broken only by the sound of Seungmin setting aside the guitar.

"You play guitar?" I asked, breaking the quiet with a soft inquiry.

Seungmin's smile widened at my question. "A little," he admitted, his eyes glinting with a playful spark as he turned his attention back to Yun, who babbled in response.

Turning towards me, I reached out to ruffle Yun's hair, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "Any idea how much longer Mr. Kim and my mom will be?" I asked, keeping the tone of my voice light for Yun.

Seungmin glanced at me, his gaze holding a warmth that sent a subtle thrill through me. "They shouldn't be too much longer," he reassured, his voice carrying a soothing cadence.

"I wouldn't mind if they took their time," I confessed, the words slipping out before I could stop them, stirring something within me that I couldn't quite name.

Seungmin's curious teasing look brought a flush to my cheeks, his eyes holding mine in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. "Ah, so you're enjoying having Yun all to yourself," he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of something more.

Chuckling nervously, I met his gaze, feeling a sense of anticipation building between us. "Well, spending time with Yun is always a delight," I replied, the unspoken tension lingering in the air.

Seungmin's smile held a hint of understanding, his gaze softening as he seemed to read the unspoken words between us. "I'm sure he feels the same way," he said softly, his words hinting at something different, igniting a spark of curiosity within me.

Seungmin leaned back onto the couch, his eyes lingering on Yun before shifting back to me. The baby cooed softly, waving a tiny hand in Seungmin's direction. It was hard to ignore the warmth and calm that radiated from him, even as the night crept in and the room grew darker.

"You know," Seungmin began, his voice low and thoughtful, "it's not often I get to just... play music and relax like this." His eyes flicked over to me, then back to the guitar resting against the side of the couch.

I felt a smile tug at my lips. "It's nice. I've missed having calm moments like these," recalling quieter times before my world became a constant whirlwind of changes.

Seungmin nodded, his gaze holding steady. "It's important to find those tiny moments. Even if they seem insignificant." He ran his hand through his hair, which tousled a bit as if he'd been running around with Yun most of the day. "This house can be a bit quiet," he added with a soft smile, "I'm grateful for it."

"Yeah," I replied, nodding. "I think I'd like to find something like that too." I glanced at Yun, who was now rubbing his eyes, clearly ready for bed. I leaned over and gently adjusted the baby's blanket. "Guess it's bedtime for this little guy."

Seungmin watched as I wrapped the blanket snugly around Yun, his expression softening as he watched me interact with the baby. "You’re a natural," he commented, echoing his earlier words, and it warmed my heart to hear them again.

I felt my cheeks flush at the compliment. "I’ve had a good teacher showing me the ropes," I replied, unable to resist the urge to tease him back.

Seungmin grinned, and the atmosphere lightened. "Just doing my job," he said, leaning in to carefully lift Yun from the couch. "But I'm glad it’s rubbing off." He turned to head down the hallway, toward the nursery, leaving me with a feeling of quiet contentment.

When Seungmin returned, the house had grown silent except for the distant ticking of a clock. He sat back down beside me, the couch sinking slightly under his weight. The space between us was close, yet comfortable. 

"So," he began, breaking the silence, "if you could choose, where would you go if you weren't always on the move?" His question caught me off guard, but the curiosity in his eyes made me feel at ease.

I considered it for a moment, then shrugged lightly. "Someplace calm, with people I care about," I replied. "I think I’d like to put down roots somewhere." It was a simple answer, but it felt true.

Seungmin nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds like a good plan." He leaned back and stretched his arms, a subtle yawn escaping his lips. "Maybe you'll find that place sooner than you think." He looked at me, his gaze steady and reassuring.

The silence stretched between us, comfortable but charged with a subtle energy. The soft ticking of a clock filled the room, punctuating each moment with a gentle rhythm. Seungmin sat close, his presence warm and calming, yet his eyes held a depth of emotion that made my heart race.

"It's good to have roots," Seungmin said, his voice low but clear. "It’s what keeps us grounded." He smiled softly, his gaze drifting to the guitar in the corner of the room. "Music helps, too. It gives me a way to express what I can't always say."

I nodded, feeling a connection with his words. The music, the soft murmurs of Yun, the quiet moments—it all felt like a gentle escape from the chaos that had defined my life for so long. Seungmin’s humility and quiet strength were grounding, and I could see why he was someone Yun could count on.

"You should play more often," I suggested, with a hint of playfulness in my voice. "It suits you."

Seungmin's cheeks flushed slightly, his puppy-like eyes glancing away shyly. "I don’t know about that," he replied with a modest chuckle. "I just mess around with it. I'm no pro."

"Well, you had Yun's full attention," I pointed out, grinning. "That's got to count for something."

Seungmin's shy smile grew, and he shrugged. "Maybe," he said, the light in his eyes brightening. "He’s a good audience, though. Very patient."

I laughed, enjoying the easiness of our exchange. It was nice to just talk without the weight of the world pressing down, to simply exist in the moment without worrying about what came next.

"Seungmin," I said, my voice a bit softer, "why are you so reserved?" I wasn’t sure where the question came from, but it felt right to ask. There was a gentleness about him, a quietness that I wanted to understand.

Seungmin seemed taken aback by the question, his gaze growing more introspective. "I guess... I’ve just always been like this," he said slowly, his tone contemplative. "I like to listen, to watch. It's how I understand things." He glanced at me, his eyes filled with a hint of vulnerability. "Sometimes it's easier to observe than to be the center of attention."

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. "I get that," I replied, meeting his gaze.

Seungmin's expression softened, and he offered a gentle nod. "Yeah. But I think it’s important to step out of the shadows sometimes, you know? To take risks, even if it’s scary."

Seungmin’s gaze lingered on me, and in that moment, it felt like the last words he spoke were meant to hit me in the heart the way it did.

As the night grew late, I found myself reluctant to leave Seungmin’s company.

Despite the late hour, I felt an unexpected calm in Seungmin's presence. The rhythm of his voice, the gentleness of his movements—everything about him seemed designed to soothe and steady. It was as if he knew exactly how to make someone feel at ease, even when the world around them was in turmoil.

"I should probably get some sleep," I said, more to break the tension than because I was actually tired. The truth was, I could have stayed here all night, just talking and listening to the quiet sounds of the house as it settled into slumber. But I was wary of overstepping, of misinterpreting the signals between us.

Seungmin nodded, a slight tilt of his head as he seemed to consider something. "Yeah, it's getting late," he agreed, though his eyes lingered on me a moment longer as if he wasn't ready to end the night either. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," I replied, my voice softer than I intended. I could feel his gaze on me as I stood to leave, and I offered him a shy smile before walking down the hallway to my room. The warmth of his presence seemed to follow me.

As I closed the door to my room, the faint sounds of my mom and Joon at the entrance of the house hit me in the head and reminded me of the circumstances I currently was in.

Turning to the small desk that sat beside my bed, which I mainly used to do my work, there laid a small piece of notebook paper on top 

[the room at the end of the hall is mine, if you want to take a break from the baby tmr night (ps. i offer drinks)]

-

[silhouetteonpaper]

DERIVED FROM POWER | CH. 1

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

Summary: Y/N is frustrated with the life being a political figure’s daughter brings. That’s when she’s forced to meet a group of heroes that give her the worst news possible: she’s far from normal. But what will happen when Y/N can’t be the perfect girl her parents taught her to be?

A/N: This is my first fic, so please bear with me as I’m still figuring things out! Any constructive feedback is welcome! This first chapter is a lot of introduction, I promise there’s even better stuff coming. I’m planning for this to have at least 10 chapters, if not more. I hope you enjoy :)

WC: 3451

Warnings: Drinking, gun use, fighting, mean parents

CHAPTER ONE

The girl sighed as the green silk dress draped down past her legs to the floor. Another new article of clothing she delicately placed herself in, now turning back and forth in the mirror to see how it fell on her body. She liked this dress more than some of the others she’d worn. It had a nice v-cut neck, giving her collarbone some emphasis. The straps were thin to let her shoulders shine, too. And it complimented her figure well, leaving the girl dreading the news articles about her ‘scandalous attire’ she predicted would appear soon enough. Still, all the girl cared about was the fact she felt confident in it, so in the moment she tried to ignore her rising fears.

Tonight is yet another party the girl’s parents decided to attend, wanting to keep up their appearance as senators for the United States. As their daughter, the girl was expected to follow them to every trip, public statement, gathering, and of course party. She hated every single one, the feeling of everyone’s eyes drilling into her causing anxiety. She never liked the spotlight, let alone the political discourse that followed her everywhere. Even at her young age, she was expected to have an opinion and be able to articulate her surrounding thoughts. But she never was as into politics as her parents were.

A soft knock landed on the bedroom door, the young girl’s attention quickly being stolen from the mirror. “Y/N, your parents are headed to the car. They said they’re leaving in five minutes.” A woman who appeared in the doorway spoke. She was shorter, and had straight brown hair and brown eyes. She wore a kind smile with her form fitting gray pencil skirt and matching blazer. Y/N immediately smiled at her and nodded, hiding the frustration she felt toward her parents. Only they would force her to come to a party, and send the house manager to communicate the departure in their stead. 

Brianne, the house manager and the woman in the doorway, was more like a maternal figure to Y/N than her own mother. Brianne was in charge of keeping household tasks on schedule, and organizing everything surrounding it. The maids, chef, everyone, all looked to Brianne for direction on when to do their jobs and how. Because Y/N’s parents were constantly working, the young girl often found herself in Brianne’s hands. She didn’t mind it too much, yet always longed for a true parental relationship with her real parents. Yet they cared more about politics than their own child.

Brianne closed the bedroom door soon after relaying her message. Luckily, Y/N was nearly ready. She had blow dried and curled her Y/C/H hair earlier, forcing her natural hair pattern to cower under the heat styling. Her parents always told her she looked prettier when she heat styled her hair, so ever since their first comment on it she kept doing it. It was a habit now- Y/N never let her natural hair show anymore.

She had put on some simple makeup, just to highlight and brighten her features but not too much to make her look too old. Y/N’s parents constantly reminded her that youth gets you far in any industry, to which they were usually met with an eye-roll or unimpressed expression.

Y/N took a moment in the mirror to look herself in the eyes. Being in the public eye meant she had to be a perfect daughter, teenager, and person. But there was one thing the young girl was hiding that she’d never told a single soul about. She had this strange ability, she could move things with her eyes. She could bring objects to her, or push them away, no matter how heavy they were.

But, she didn’t often get to use her special skill, as she didn’t want her parents to find out. Occasionally she’d grab a book from a shelf across the room, holding out her hand as it slid off the shelf and flew in the air towards her. Or, she’d throw the clothes from her floor onto the bed with one simple gaze from her eyes. She knew it wasn’t normal, so she kept the secret with her for all 18 years of her life.

Eventually, Y/N strutted out front of the house in her black high heels, the low light of the moon and front driveway lights illuminating the path to the car. The family’s house was a large contemporary-colonial style house, with lots of windows and pillars. They resided in New York, far enough away from the white house to have some privacy, but close enough that they could easily travel there for work.

The Rolls Royce SUV sat in the driveway, engine running. The driver exited the car to open the door for Y/N, her expression turning cold as she met her parents' judging faces inside. The door closed behind her and Y/N buckled her seatbelt, sitting in the opposite facing seat to both her parents. Her mom looked at her up and down, not trying to hide the tinge of disgust.

“Who let you buy that?” She commented on the dress, staring directly at its low neckline. Y/N looked down at her lap for a moment, watching her words to prevent her tone from ruining the night.

“Brianne took me shopping. You told me I can’t wear the same dress twice, so I got this one for tonight.” Y/N answered quietly. She knew her mom probably wouldn’t love the low cut, but Y/N liked it and Brianne told her how good it looked, so it felt right. The dresses her mom picked out always made Y/N feel like she was either a little kid, or a full grown adult. But Y/N was finally 18, and her excitement to make decisions like these stemmed into the purchases on her parent’s credit cards.

“Next time, get something less revealing. I don’t need to see pictures of your chest in tomorrow's newspaper. It’ll have to do for tonight though. Maybe Stark will have an extra jacket you can cover up with…” Her mom went on. Y/N rolled her eyes to herself, knowing at the party her parents would be too busy socializing to care about some stupid jacket. Y/N’s ears perked at hearing the name Stark, though. These parties were often political figures and their friends gathering, so the girl was intrigued to hear a name unrelated to politics.

The name Stark was familiar, and Y/N’s memory quickly jogged. “We’re going to Tony Stark’s house for a party? Why’re we invited?” She questioned her parents. She knew a bit about the billionaires franchise, and that her parents were friendly with him, but was unsure what business her senator parents had at a rich man's night of fun. Her mom scoffed, exchanging a glance with her father.

 “Stark funds part of our campaign, and in return we offer him some… benefits.” Her mom said carefully. Y/N knew that in return for his support, her parents helped him weave some laws and watchful government eyes. It was further proof how devious those involved in politics could truly be, but Y/N already lacked trust in her parents.

The car drove down some winding roads, following the edge of the hill they lived on that overlooked the city. The night was beautiful, a dark navy sky full of stars holding up the bright moon, matching the glowing city lights down below that never ceased to burn. Y/N enjoyed looking up to the sky, watching the quiet world that sat above her. It was a nice break from her own life as she could float with the stars for only a moment.

Soon enough, the SUV pulled into a long driveway that curved in a loop out front of a large modern mansion. Y/N was impressed, seeing a house even larger than theirs. She was always curious as to why people needed all this space, she never felt a use for it. But her parents and Stark both had money to spend, so she presumed that was reason enough.

The driver opened the doors for the family and they headed up towards the large front doors. Inside, music could be heard playing in the foyer where a crowd of people socialized. The ceiling was tall, a second floor balcony overlooking the area around a large hanging chandelier. Floor to ceiling windows covered the farthest wall, standing behind a DJ booth and a bar area.

An older man with brown hair greeted the family, immediately going to hug Y/N’s mom and dad. “Laura! Paul! Welcome!” His attention was turned to the young girl in the stunning green dress as soon as he pulled away from the hug. “And here she is, Y/N Y/L/N, you’ve grown up since I last saw you!” He spoke, pulling Y/N into a side hug.. Y/N smiled as best as she could, making sure to keep eye contact with an expression that was reading properly. But she couldn’t quite remember him, or how he knew her.

“Tony, the inside looks amazing!” Laura beamed, admiring the interior of the house. After only a moment, Tony was walking away with her parents as he promised to show them a new renovation he did. Y/N was left alone in the foyer, the crowd now seeming a lot louder in the absence of the only two people she knew at the party. As great as it was to see Tony Stark, it wasn’t as great to be at another party alone, Y/N thought. She weighed her options, and ultimately decided to head for the bar.

Although at parties she was usually on her best behavior, Y/N knew this house was full of rich celebrities and individuals alike who didn’t care about rules. She wasn’t 21, but had drank with her friends before without her parents' knowledge. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt, and she knew no one would care- as long as her parents didn’t see. But Laura and Paul weren’t in sight, and the many bottles of alcohol were calling Y/N’s name.

She sat at one of the bar stools, adjusting her green dress to sit comfortably. A redhead turned to face the young girl, only looking up to make eye contact once Y/N spoke. “One shot of vodka, please, and a martini.” She ordered. The redhead raised her eyebrow, but nodded and prepared the drinks. She slid over a shot glass of the clear liquid, Y/N immediately taking it and downing it no problem. The woman behind the bar smiled, impressed, as she placed the martini down in the empty shot glass’s stead.

“Not a big party person?” The redhead asked. Y/N laughed, shaking her head and taking a small sip of the martini.

“Not really. I go to so many, they get old fast.” She spoke, careful not to overshare. She had some sense of comfort at this party, knowing everyone here was famous or known in some way. Most of them probably didn’t care about politics, let alone a senator's daughter. Y/N could be an average girl here. The redhead laughed, leaning against the counter behind her and crossing her arms.

“I get it. I’m always down for a party in celebration of something, like this one.” The redhead told her. Y/N nodded, understanding that feeling.

“What’re we celebrating tonight?” She asked. Before the redhead could answer, a whizzing sound could be heard. Within seconds, a large boom shook the house, leaving Y/N with wide eyes as the crowd screamed and scattered.

“Get down!” The redhead told the young girl, helping her move behind the bar quickly. She pulled her down, the two of them ducking below the counter as the sounds of more small explosions and gunshots rang through the house. “I’m Natasha, by the way.” The redhead spoke, peeking up every few seconds to gauge the situation.

“I- I’m Y/N.” The girl responded, too terrified to even formally introduce her full name. She preferred just her first name anyway, less formalities, but for now that didn’t matter as her name could be splayed on a grave if she didn’t focus. Her heart was racing as Natasha and her continued to hide behind the bar, debris from the chaos occasionally flying over.

Screams echoed through the house, the sound of heels and dress shoes crunching broken glass and debris as people ran filled the large rooms. Y/N’s eyes remained wide, her breath hitching when Natasha pulled out a gun and began to shoot over the counter. ‘Who is this woman?’ Y/N thought, now seeing the bartender become some kind of security personnel.

The gun firing died down for a moment, and Natasha bent back down to Y/N’s level. “We need to go, I need you to follow me.” She spoke, trying to meet Y/N’s eyes that began to dissociate into the floor. She was panicking, her own mind making her feel like her death would come at any moment. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Natasha spoke firmly, putting a hand on the girl's arm.

Y/N’s eyes finally rose, now processing Natasha’s words. She realized Natasha had used her full name, somehow knowing it, but quickly brushed it off as the chaos continued. She nodded, and slowly stood with the redhead as they waited for the right moment to move from behind cover. They darted across the foyer, over broken glass and fallen drywall. A few stray bullets zoomed behind them, just missing the pair.

The girl’s jaw dropped in shock as she noticed there were a few bodies trapped underneath heavy beams that had fallen from the ceiling. After making sure Natasha wasn’t looking towards her, she flicked her eyes from the beam to the floor in front of her, pulling it toward her so it lifted off the body. As they began to leave the foyer, Y/N couldn’t do much more than that without holding up the redhead and alerting her of the ability she possessed, so for now she hoped it would be enough to save a life.

Natasha kept her gun propped upwards as she led the girl down one of the hallways. It was silent, almost too silent. Y/N tried to keep her panicked breathing quiet as she watched Natasha guiding the way.

As they turned a corner, Natasha stopped in her tracks, holding out her arm to prevent Y/N from walking even one step more. Less than a second later, a large explosion erupted in the hallway in front of them, just over a yard away. Y/N shielded her eyes, a few pieces of rubble flying at her with a sharp sting as they grazed her skin. Her eyes watered at the pain, but she remained focused as the adrenaline pumped through her.

Natasha immediately continued to run, soon opening a door that led outside. Down a dimly lit path stood a black van. Y/N’s heart dropped, was this woman trying to kidnap Y/N, or save her? At this point, the girl wasn’t sure- but running back inside didn’t sound too appealing. There were a few times when people attempted to harm the senators and their family, but it was usually easily avoided with the help of their personal security team. This time though, her family’s security team was nowhere in sight.

Speaking of family, Y/N soon realized her parents were caught up in the same attack. “My parents, I have to go find them,” Y/N spoke, her voice weak and full of worry. In the glow of the moon, Natasha could see the girl's eyes watering, her eyebrows caving in with fear. And her arm slowly dripped with blood, but it didn’t seem to bother her too much.

“Don’t worry about them, I promise they’re safe. We have to move, now.” Natasha spoke calmly, yet firmly. Y/N’s mind raced with a million more questions. How did Natasha know her parents were safe? Where were they? Where was Natasha taking her? But there was no time to ask as the redhead quickly sped toward the van.

Y/N could see the dark figures of a few other people getting in the van and already sitting inside. As they approached, Natasha opened the back doors and gestured for Y/N to step inside. She could see a few faces in the near dark, all staring directly at her. “Look, if you’re going to kidnap me at least just tell me. I can’t take any more surprises tonight.” Y/N begged, exhaling deeply as her eyes teared up. Natasha laughed, a few people inside the van adding a chuckle. Y/N looked at them, slightly appalled.

“We aren’t kidnapping you, your parents set this up. We’re saving you from getting kidnapped.” Natasha explained, slightly entertained. Y/N looked from her to the other passengers back and forth quickly, now more confused than ever.

“What?-” She began. There was no time to finish, as the sound of gunshots grew louder. Y/N quickly moved to step in the van, knowing it was her only shot at avoiding a bullet wound tonight. One of the passengers in the van reached out an arm to help her up, offering the seat next to him as everyone inside made room. Natasha quickly jumped inside after, closing the van doors with haste. The car sped off, making everyone lean to the side a bit as gravity pulled them.

The gunshots grew quieter, silence taking over the van as Tony’s house became smaller. Now that the immediate threat of getting shot wasn’t weighing over the girl, she looked around. She could see Natasha, and a few more men. A soft glow of technology came from the driver's seat of the car, lighting the man at the wheel’s face. It was Tony, manning the van. He wasn’t even touching the wheel now, as the car seemed to drive itself with a complex looking computer setup.

Natasha turned a small overhead light on, the back of the vehicle now being lit well enough for Y/N to make out the people sitting with her. A guy with dusty brown hair and a bow hooked over his shoulder, a larger guy with long blonde hair and a hammer of some kind, and a sandy haired guy sitting beside Y/N.

“Can I patch that up?” Natasha pointed to Y/N’s bleeding arm, the girl’s eyebrows raising as she finally noticed her injury. She nodded, Natasha switching places with the sandy haired guy so she could easily clean up the wound. As she wiped off the blood and cleaned the source of it, leaving Y/N wincing, she was able to take a closer look at the sandy haired character. Her expression twisted in confusion when she noticed his familiar face.

“I know you… how do I know you?” She asked him. He laughed, looking to the other passengers to exchange a glance. Natasha nodded at him, beginning to wrap gauze around Y/N’s arm. She looked around in frustration, annoyed that they all knew something she didn’t. Suddenly, it clicked. She recalled the man's face and where she saw him last. The man waited for her to say it, his eyebrows raised as he saw she connected the dots. “You’re my family’s security guard—Johnson…but you look slightly different?” She realized.

The man was definitely the security guard, but he wasn’t wearing sunglasses or a black tux. He also somehow looked more youthful, like his position as a security personnel involved a disguise. The man laughed. “I am… or was. Undercover.” He told her. She lifted an eyebrow, unsure what he meant by that. “I’m an agent for SHIELD. But more importantly, an Avenger. I’m Steve Rogers, this is Clint Barton, Thor, and you probably met Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff. Your parents needed extra security and we were put on the job.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly. She knew about the Avengers. Their names often swirled government meetings or secret gatherings full of hushed voices. They were a hot topic in the political world, but even more incredibly, they were superheroes. “My parents are working with a bunch of superheroes? What did they need extra security for?” Y/N questioned. They were average senators, what could they possibly need a group of superheroes for?

Steve hesitated, looking at the group for a moment before continuing. “You.”

[mitraoki]

Hi hi! I'd like to rq a Ken Sato x Gundam pilot (pilot of a giant war robot, similar to a transformer) reader, fem or gen if possible!

She's slightly older and used to work with the KDF but quit due to realising the problems KDF has caused.

OR! She could have worked for the Japanese army but due to a horrible accident during a mission she could've been injured badly and was forced to retire early.

Possibly low-key sassy and stoic personality that she acquired after years of working for the army, that undermine her politeness and sweet personality.

And if possible, can she wear an eye patch?

If you don't like this feel free to ignore :( But I really like this concept and your writing style so it'd be really nice to see it written out :)

Don't tire yourself out!

😧🪒😦 - Anon

hot and cold. (ken sato x gn! reader)

note; HELLO anon!! thank you soo much for requesting. this is a REALLY good background you've given me, i just hope i've done it enough justice for you🥹🥹please let me know of your thoughts about this! i always welcome feedback <33

as usual, requests are open!! refer to my rules for a better view on what i write (✿◕‿◕✿)

masterlist.

i would say that after ken's experiences with emi and bonding with his dad, he becomes more open to various possibilities. yes he's happy he's slowly recovering what he'd lost long ago, but there's definitely something in particular that's missing in his life.

he hasn't thought about love in a long, long time. back in america it was always crushes, or simple dates but nothing ever lasted longer than he wanted it to. ken sato hates cliffhangers.

you, on the other hand, weren't hoping for much. all your life you've worked - very obviously - as a tool for the KDF, but what good did it bring you except to push yourself away from people?? so you did, not wanting to be around people quite often, so much as to even isolating yourself.

after learning of your boss' potential demise, what good is there staying in an organization that left you completely shallow? gone was the need to remain in KDF, signing the very last paper regarding your resignation.

"i should get an eye patch," you muttered, staring into the mirror with a dull look. it was no news for the frontliners to experience heavy injuries, but you definitely did not expect one of your eyes to become completely dysfunctional.

it had only been a few days since your departure from the shackles when you just had to bump into the well-known, ecstatic baseball player, ken sato in a convenience store. purely out of coincidence, of course. squinting your eyes, you sent a nod his way.

"heard of you," you uttered, stretching your lips into a thin line as you headed towards the counter, paying for the stuff you'd picked out for dinner later.

....leaving the man himself completely speechless.

who were you? why didn't you say anything else about his plays? have you attended any of them? were you pissed that he wasn't playing to his full potential? and what was with the eye patch?

he needed to know more of you.

i'd like to think he'd ask more about you from mina, gaining as much information as he could about you. if you had any specific history, some kind of secret that he was yet to uncover. lo and behold, he dug far enough to find out you once worked with his enemy. emphasis on worked.

a shiver ran down his spine when he read those words. he didn't need to see it, but he could tell there was more to than what meets the eye.

"something the matter, ken?" mina questioned, her holographic screen dissipating.

"oh- how difficult do you think this is gonna be?"

"....i cannot give you a definitive answer, ken. i would depend on the way you'd choose to approach her."

and approached you he did. not exactly, but again. it was purely out of coincidence when he saw you sitting by the window of a quaint cafe, sipping on your favorite beverage.

"baseball boy?" you called out behind him while he was "trying his best to order his favorite drink." his words, not yours.

"fancy seeing you 'round here."

"yeah! well. you know me - super down to earth," he chuckled nervously, clearing his throat after.

but you can see just how bad he was suppressing himself from throwing the biggest questions he had for you. out of respect, you had hoped. nodding, you walked back to your seat after grabbing your long-awaited dessert.

that was - until - the same baseball boy practically begged to sit at the same table as you. there it was. one would expect the fan to do most of the questioning towards their idol, but in this case it was different.

you were no fan, and ken surely wasn't one himself. the KDF doesn't really have a good image going on, after all. it was the slight glimmer of hope in your heart that this man had a pure heart, just wanting to explore what he hasn't in this big, cruel world.

heaving a huge sigh, you gave in. this can go on. what's the worst that could happen?

and it did. for hours. hours turning into days. days turning into weeks. months. suddenly a year had passed, and you were now in his arms, being the little spoon you had desired for so long.

he hears story after story of yours. all the secret missions you'd gone through before resigning. the eye that you'd lost a long time ago.

ken sato was careful with your heart, soul and you. he cares for you like the world's most fragile glass, holds you in his arms like he might lose you the moment he lets go. he kisses every single scar of yours like he was silently acknowledging the sacrifices you'd made through the years.

and for the first time, you felt like there was some meaning. you needed to see this through. you wanted ken sato more than ever now. the way he smiles, the way his eyes glimmer when you tell him something new. the way he cups your face and reminds you of your worth.

it's mind boggling to know someone slightly younger than you has such a vast and mature mind, ready to accept you when no one else has. life had always been stagnant. you wake up, you face the days ahead. some conversations with or without you. unwanted noises that bothered you to the core.

it was just something about ken, his voice perhaps. or it could be the way he wants to listen. he chooses to listen even when he doesn't understand, because this man would do anything in the world to be in yours.

"i don't know what the others have told you, y/n. but in my eyes, i can keep them on you forever and i'd never grow tired."

and those were the words that left you speechless, the fresh warm streak of tears flowing down your cheeks. it was such a rare sight to see someone so stoic, so persistent break down. but even then, ken sato was there to hold you tight, whisper soothing words into your ear and pepper you with endless kisses.

you'd grown absolutely smitten for this man, and i would say you'd never regret a single moment with him.

all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.

[grabattheseballsss]

Random fic wanted to post

Synopsis: gojo’s been hopelessly in love with you the day he met you, but you’re hopelessly in love with the blond that barely every paid attention to you

Pairing: Gojo x reader (unrequited) Nanami x reader (unrequited)

Warnings: angst???? I think??? Unrequited love, these butches are HOPELESS, reader is like, naturally touchy and gentle? Girl id be in love too if someone was this nice to me, Shoko and Geto are tired of yall, super mild and lackluster fic, but I wanted to post it anyways

A/N: never wrote angst before :P I wanna start doing some now hehe, feedback’s always welcome!

“And this, is Nanami Kento! He may be emo but we still love him” gojo chuckled as he introduced you to his friend group, you smiled sheepishly and waved to everyone, but your eyes couldn’t trail off of the blond who only gave you a polite nod and went back to his book.

You were the new girl, a foreigner, a shy pretty girl who was too scared to make any friends, that is until a white haired boy came up to you on lunchtime at the cafeteria, you only smiled awkwardly as you made your way to the only empty table available, all the way back, you were about to eat your food before you heard someone call your name

“Heyyy~ new girl! What’s up! I’m Gojo Satoru, but I’m sure you already know that” he chuckled as he hyped himself up jokingly, you laughed a little and introduced yourself to him

“What’re you doing all by yourself ? Come with me, come I’ll introduce you to my friends! You’ll love them, not as much as me though, promise ?” He winked at you and put the lid of your lunchbox back on and went to grab your hand before you stopped in place “please please, just gimme a minute, I got soup in my lunch box you didn’t close it properly” you grumbled and close the container and put it neatly back in your bag.

Gojo didn’t think you’d want to hold his hand after that, which made him put his arms down by his sides, but to his surprise you held his hand gently and smiled gently at him “lead the way!” You didn’t think twice of that moment but that was when Saturo started developing feelings for you, you were too focused on your bag to notice the blush that settled on his face.

Time forward to now, it’s been almost three months since Gojo introduced you to him and his friends, it’s been three months since you met that blond who you’ve been writing in your journal about, three months of you and Shoko’s endless sleepovers, three months of Geto and Gojo’s bickering which is often induced by Shoko and defused by you.

You smiled slightly as you watched the two continue to throw petty insults at each other, Shoko only laughing and Nanami sat there with a slight smirk as he shook his head, his lips were so pretty, his skin so effortlessly clear, his hair’s so soft and neat despite his stupid haircut, his deep brown eyes that turn to look at you, the way he said your name, how smooth it sounded on his lips

“Are you okay?” Kento asked, staring at you with a raised brow, your eyes widen as a heat started spreading on your face, you straightened your posture and nodded “yeah, y-yeah I’m sorry, just lost in thought” you replied and looked away

Shoko started whispering in your ear when Nanami turned around “I know what those thoughts are, perv~” she chuckled as you smacked her shoulder to stop, the embarrassing encounter left Gojo silent, ignoring Geto’s remarks as he watched you blush the same way he does when you look at him with those half lidded eyes as you take care of his wounds, or when you buy him a treat because you remembered he liked it, all of these sweet moments.

If only he knew what he lacked, he was born into wealth, he was extraordinary, the strongest, a damn model in his free time, he could give you the world and more, if you’d just turn your gaze to his pretty face instead.

———

“Happy birthday, dear sa-toooo-ruuuu” you all sang as you watched the white haired man blow out his candles, clapping as he took off the candles, number two and one put to the side as he started cutting the pink strawberry vanilla cake.

Everyone got handed a plate with a piece of cake, you and Shoko sat on the small couch, chatting and eating “you know… he’s not going to know that you’ve been pining after him if you avoid him at all costs” Shoko mumbled as she stole a strawberry off of your plate, you hummed as you looked up to see Kento chatting up with a random girl that was invited to the party by Saturo.

You didn’t want to bum anyone up, that felt so selfish and rude of you, so you excused yourself, then went back to Shoko to give her the rest of your cake and walking back out.

You walked to Saturo who was sitting by Geto, they seemed to be chuckling about some random inside joke, you grabbed your gift bag and walked to them.

“Birthday boyyy~” you called out, your voice now sounded so much different than all those years ago, you sounded more mature and sure of yourself, saturo looked up at you with a huge smile, Geto only smiled and waved at you.

You stood in front of gojo and handed him a pink and blue bag with a letter taped to it “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to pick out a proper gift” you chuckled a little before grabbing a chair and sitting down.

“I didn’t think you’d even make it” Geto said as he grabbed his glass

“Well, if she couldn’t make it, I was going to drag her by the leg” saturo joked, but you all knew he wasn’t.

As saturo unpacked the gift inside the bag, he seemed like a kid on Christmas Day, you smiled softly as he held the box with sudden care, he looked up at you so fast his glasses slid down his nose, which made you and Geto chuckle “WHAT!” Saturo screamed, making everyone stare at you both, his long arms scooped you up and pulled you into a tight hug.

Getting a gift for someone like Gojo would seem absolutely impossible, he was rich and had anything he could ever ask for, but not the pictures he had lost couple of years ago, the one of you, him and baby megumi in your living room, dressed up as random characters, from megumi as shrek, you as Fiona and of course Gojo as donkey, the one of you and Gojo sitting on the ground as megumi has a sign on the couch that says “losers not allowed on”, and of course, satoru’s favourite, the one of you and megumi in the kitchen making cookies, megumi eating cookie dough as you were covered in flour and scolding him, unaware of the camera.

He lost the card that had those photos years ago, and you found it earlier this year and decided to keep it a surprise for him.

You hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek “seriously, happy birthday, turo… thank you, for being my friend” you smiled as you cupped his blushing cheek “now go taught gumi with them, I know you’re itching to do so” you giggled as you patted his shoulder and walked back to where Shoko was sitting.

You both missed the way Shoko and Geto looked at each other with a sad knowing look before turning back and continuing their separate conversations.

[skibidilando]

A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.

Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.

Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.

Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.

Lando: all good

Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.

That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.

"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.

"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".

Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.

rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".

"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.

"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.

you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.

what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.

"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but while walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.

why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.

You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..

sorry its a short one x

[grace-kami]

Gentle touch, soft praises makes a complete mess of him 😏

Carlo and Romeo NSFW is finished! As requested! This is my spiciest artwork yet!🔥

TW: 🍆💦

Send me a DM here or on Twitter for full picture, its more private that way!!

Please read

If you're a minor, don't bother asking. If I don't see your age on your blog, please don't take offense when I ask how old you are. I'm just trying to be safe. Getting banned on Tumblr is a fear of mine.

This is my fourth NSFW project, if you'd like to see my other ones, just let me know! Don't be shy, I'm always happy to share my artwork to anyone who ask politely. No judgement. I'm a nice person, I promise.

If you send me request, it's only fair you follow or reblog me in return. Win-win ya? If I don't respond to request right away, patience please. I'm a busy lady but I always respond when I can.

Do not repost anywhere without permission. Nothing pisses me off more than stolen art. If I see my work posted elsewhere without my permission then I'll have to stop making spicy art. Nothing to steal if there's nothing made.🤷‍♀️

I'm open to respectful constructive criticism, I seek to be a better artist. Making NSFW art is still VERY new to me so feed back is important but you don't have to give feedback if you don't want to.

And lastly, all I ask is respect to me and to everyone. If you don't like my work, save your two cents and keep it to yourself. My confidence is fragile. I work hard on my projects. My blog is for spreading positivity, humor, support and kindness (and a bit of spice🔥). Who has time for drama? Not me, fam.

If you have any question for me or want to chat, my ask box and DMs are always open.🥰

Much love, friends.🫂❤️

[miawastaken]

Sir?

synopsis : boss!Grayson x secretary!reader

Reader's last name is mentioned for my brain's sake (its 2 am I need sleep)

tw: none

【🎱　🪐　🎸】

ty @lyrakanefanatic / @lyrakanefanaticwriting for the idea

Most kids get jobs working at an ice-cream parlour or walking dogs over the summer.

Me?

I was interning at The Hawthorne Foundation. For a Draco Malfoy knock-off we call Grayson Hawthorne.

I thought, going into the job that I wouldn't come out alive.

And to my surprise I was wrong.

Grayson Hawthorne.

The second Hawthorne brother, heir apparent, and second oldest grandson to Tobais Hawthorne.

He wasn't exactly meant to be the friendliest person, but you'd think being his secretary I'd know the truth huh?

Wrong.

The bastard barley ever spoke to me.

In all fairness I'd been told to keep my head down and mind my business. Because how could an 18-year-old girl look Grayson Hawthorne in the eye?

【🎱　🪐　🎸】

I walk into work and I see a blur of a person standing in front of my desk.

He's tall, he's wearing a suit, he's blonde, he's-

"Grayson Hawthorne?"

He's staring at me now. Its like I'm on trial for something.

"Ah, Ms. Caddel!"

"Can I help you... sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Rabbit seems to be out of office today, I'm the only one working on this floor and no one, including Oren has the keys."

"Well I'll have to apologise sir but I'm afraid I don't have them either." I apologise.

He looks once at the door and then back at me.

"Well, no matter, I'm sure the 3rd floor has a master key, I'll find it."

"Oh I can do that for you sir-" I offer.

"No, no, it's no trouble, and please call me Grayson."

"Ok uhm... Grayson, are you sure it's no bother?"

"Yes quite, thank you,"

He turns around towards the elevators and turns back last minute.

"Nice pants."

My eyebrows shot up.

"Thank you, sir."

"Grayson!" He calls back.

"Grayson." I murrmer.

【🎱　🪐　🎸】

I hear footsteps down the hall and see someone approaching.

"Ms. Caddel?"

"Yes, sir?" I ask upon realising it was Grayson.

"What're you doing in office this late?"

"I could ask the same, sir."

The corner of his mouth twitches and he says:

"Finances don't manage themselves. You?"

"Uni tuition doesn't pay itself."

He raises a brow. "You're a student?" He asks.

"Yes, well, I've gotten into NYU but I was offered this job for the summer and I wasn't about to pass up money I desperately need."

"What about your parents? Can't they help?" He asks.

"Sir please dont take this the wrong way but not all of us have families that could buy the Empire State Building."

He shrugs. "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again.

"May I walk you to your car?"

I nearly laugh.

"I don't have one."

"How do you get around then?"

"I either walk, take the subway or taxi."

He seems to be appalled by the idea of me going home by any of those means of transport at 11 pm at night.

"I'll drive you home." He offers.

"Sir I-"

"Wasn't a suggestion sweetheart, come on."

【🎱　🪐　🎸】

"So what're you studying at NYU?" He asks.

"Political Science and Philosophy."

He seems taken aback.

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm,"

"They're both very tough subjects."

"Really? Didn't notice." I reply.

He smiles at that as he pulls up next to my apartment.

"Well, this is me." I smile at him. "Thank you sir."

"It's Grayson, sweetheart."

"Grayson... thank you Grayson."

【🎱　🪐　🎸】

Thanks for reading, feel free to give me feedback! <33

[bean-bean2000]

The Hacker - Part 3

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: angst, yelling, self-deprecating thoughts (lbody dismorphia, self-hatred), recall of past traumatic events including physical and mental abuse & murder, guns, depression (suicidal thoughts).

Please note that I am not responsible for what you consume online. proceed at your own caution.

Feedback is welcome and very appreciated!

Part 2 here

Series masterlist

———————————————————————————

You wake up to loud banging on your door and yelling.

“YOU BRAT!! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!” Steve yells.

You giggle at his anger. You get up and open the door swiftly with a smirk.

“What’s wrong Cap? Couldn’t sleep?”

“What is wrong with you?! Why can’t you just be a quiet nerd that does what she’s told to do? Why can’t you follow simple orders? Why must you always create problems?!”

“Geez Cap, I always took you for a morning person. Who’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Cut that out right now! I know it was you! This never happened until you showed up. What did you want to achieve from this?”

“I’m not property. I am not a soldier. As Tony said, I’m a cyberpunk. A simple ‘Thank you for saving my life’ would have been nice. You’re too high strung and refuse to admit that you were wrong and I was very right for interfering. I will not be your puppet. I am my own person, whether you like it or not! I may be a part of this team, against my own will, but that doesn’t mean you can bark orders at me like a dog!”

“GAH! you’re unbelievable!” Steve says as he stomps away.

You snort and roll your eyes. You head to the kitchen and living room to grab some breakfast; not like you were going to fall back asleep now anyway.

As you walk in you see a certain blue-eyed brooding super soldier sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on coffee.

Your heart skips a beat but you ignore it and walk nonchalantly to the coffee machine.

“Good morning.” you say politely.

Bucky doesn’t reply but you can feel his eyes boring into your back. You turn around slowly and sip on your coffee, staring back at him. You’re not that easily intimidated.

Bucky snorts as a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “You’re something else you know that? Nobody has ever angered Steve like you have.”

“Nobody has treated me as poorly as he has”

Bucky sighs “Give him a chance. He doesn’t understand how to use the TV remote half the time. He’s scared. he doesn’t know how to guide you and lead you during missions. He’s lost when it comes to modern age technology and it’s frustrating him.”

You stare at him as you consider what Bucky has told you.

“Regardless, his behaviour towards me is ridiculous. Considering he’s from the 40’s I expected a bit more chivalry and respect from him. I will make it clear as much as I can and as many times as needed that I am not his dog that he can bark orders at. End of conversation.”

“Wow this generation has really raised some ballsy women.” He says while shaking his head with a smile.

“Is that a problem old man? Want me to be little miss submissive? Running to you every night with a fresh meal on the table and do everything at your bidding?” you reply in a mocking voice.

Bucky gets up from the bar stool and walks towards you, he gently lowers his elbows on the kitchen island and stares at you directly in your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Honestly, I respect you the most out of everyone. You came here, alone and scared, and you still stand your ground, no matter the consequences. You’re confident and self-assured. They underestimated you.”

Your tongue is caught in your throat. His blue eyes are stormy. You swear you can see admiration and pride in his eyes but you quickly look away before you let your body take over and do what you really want to do to him. This is strictly professional. No emotions, you promised yourself.

You clear your throat and back up a bit “I um - i’m going to go to my office and do some stuff…alright bye.” You stammer as you quickly run off before he can stop you.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky watches you runaway with a smile on his face and his heart beating so fast. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this for someone. He just met her and feels like he’s known her forever.

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

You run to your office and sit on your chair abruptly. You dim the light, close the shades and turn on the purple LED lights. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You embrace the calming atmosphere of your office as you begin to work.

You check your emails and notice a slew of small jobs Tony has delegated to you. Hacking into some servers to retrieve some sensitive information; nothing you haven’t done before. You put your headphones on and blast some music to drown out any background noise and help you focus on finishing the task at hand.

As you’re working through your to do list, you didn’t realize how fast time flew by. The once early morning sun has now set into the late evening. You’re continuously tapping away on your keyboard, your eyes glued to the screens in front you. You’re so hyper focused you don’t realize someone is watching you from the doorframe of your office.

Suddenly you feel a hand squeeze your shoulder. You shriek so hard that your headphones fly off your head and you leap so high out of your chair that it flips over, making you fall backwards to the ground. As you’re trying to get back up, you look to the culprit and see Steve scrambling to help you up. He grabs you by your arms and pulls you up in one swift motion, all while apologizing profusely.

“Oh god I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, are you ok? I was calling your name but you couldn’t hear me so I tried to get your attention.” Steve rambles while analyzing you, looking for injuries.

You sigh a breath of relief and rub your head, already feeling a bump forming from the fall.

“It’s fine Steve. What do you want?” you answer coldly.

“Look, I wanted to apologize. I’m really sorry for how i’ve been acting. I don’t understand a fraction of what you do or how you do it and I have no idea how to lead you through the missions. I was frustrated and took it out on you. It’s not right and I’m sorry.” Steve says, blue eyes boring into yours, swirling with pleading sadness, begging to be forgiven.

“I get it Steve. I do, and I accept your apology. However, you understand that I don’t need guidance right? The internet, hacking, technology in general is my life. All I need from you is to lead, to tell me what to do and when and I’ll do it but if there is something else that I can do to help the team further or save you, I will do it. Whether you like it or not, I know the consequences of my actions and I know what I’m doing. I trust you. The real question is, do you trust me?”

“I— I do. I will. from now, I will trust you and your instincts. I promise. You’re part of the team now and I will treat you as an equal like I treat everyone else.”

“Good. Thank you for being honest with me and clearing this up. Let’s start over.”

“Deal. Thank you Y/N.”

“Just don’t piss me off again or I’ll make it way worse for you than a few simple alarms and blaring red lights in your room as payback.” you smirk at him and wink.

He rolls his eyes and smile “Understood, scouts honour.” He salutes you jokingly and walks out with a quick goodbye.

You decide to call it a night and close up your office for the day. You walk to the kitchen and realize you haven’t eaten all day.

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

As you reach the kitchen and start making yourself a quick sandwich you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Hey there Cyberpunk, what are you up too? You disappeared all day today.” Bucky says as he sits next to you on a kitchen bar stool.

“I was working on some things Tony needed. I didn’t realize how time flew by. I haven’t eaten yet so i’m just making a quick snack.”

“You didn’t take a single break? How did you not eat, drink, go to the bathroom?…” Bucky looks at you with a concerned look.

“Um, no, not really. I tend to get really hyper focused on my tasks, especially when my brain is in overdrive. It’s kind of like a coping mechanism. I escape into my own cyber world and I don’t leave until my body basically wakes me up.” You say nonchalantly.

“Well, not anymore. Not on my watch.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask while giggling.

“I have decided to make it my job to make sure that you’re taking enough breaks, eating, drinking water, going outside for some fresh air…”

“You don’t have to do that. I like my little cyber-cave. It’s my space, it’s fine.”

“Doll, you are stubborn.” he chuckles to you as he playfully pushes his shoulder against yours.

You reply with a scoff as you finish making your snack.

"You're too cute to treat yourself like this. Let me take care of you for a bit, I want to help."

You stare at him in disbelief.

Is he... flirting with me? There's no chance James Buchanan Barnes is flirting with me. He's just being nice to me. With women like Natasha around him, there is no way he would even look my way. I'm a freaking nerd, a computer geek that stays indoors all day and hides from the world through the internet. The other women in the compound are gorgeous with the perfect bodies to match. I'm not exactly the most fit, I can't even jog for more than 10 seconds without my lungs hurting. I dress is loose comfortable clothes, my hair is always in either a messy bun or air dried to let its natural pattern go free. I put minimal makeup at most because I'm alone indoors all day. Remember, no emotions. It's all in your head. Focus Y/N. He is just being polite and welcoming as you're a new team member.

Your thoughts are running a mile a minute as Bucky is looking into your eyes, waiting for an answer. You must have been staring at him for too long because Bucky asked you if something was wrong.

"No I um - i'm good. Just exhausted. Long day. Thanks for keeping me company for a bit. I have to go now, bye." you say awkwardly as you grab ur plate of food and scurry to your room.

"Hey, wait where are you going?" Bucky questions as he sees you run off.

You ignore him and quicken your pace. Your heart is racing. You reach your room and close the door behind you as you let out a huge sigh of relief.

Why am I so awkward? Why can't I just have a normal conversation with him? He's too damn gorgeous thats why. How can I not be attracted to him? He's built like a greek god with these captivating blue eyes and that dark hair that you just want to run your fingers through - stop it. No no no stop that right now. If you develop a crush on him, you will only get hurt. You're being delusional. He doesn't like you. Look at yourself.

You stare at yourself in the mirror.

What could he possibly be attracted to? The dark circles under my eyes? My messy hair? My loose fitting clothes that give me no shape whatsoever? It's not like my body is perfect either. I have stretch marks, I'm not fit, I don't have abs by any means, my arms are not muscular or toned, my thighs are large.... I do have a nice ass and some great boobs, I will admit.

Bucky is a man that goes for super model type women. Not computer nerds that eat take out almost religiously and never leave their computer chair except to go to the bathroom. I think the most steps i've done in an entire day is 500. Who am i kidding? Why am I doing this to myself? Just stop. Focus on work, nothing else. This will only lead to more and more heartbreak that I just can't take anymore.

There is so much they don't know about me. They can't know. I've worked so hard to erase it from the world all together, to make myself disappear into thin air, to hardly exist. I know Tony is probably trying to deep dive into my past and find some trace of who I am and where I'm from but I know I've gotten rid of it all years ago and I plan on keeping it that way.

Start of flashback

You're hiding under your desk in your room, shaking as you hear your parents screaming at each other in the kitchen. You had accidentally dropped a plate and it crashed to the floor, pieces flying everywhere which had caused your father to erupt in a rage. He stalked towards you as a slew of insults that have been repeated to you over the years flew from his mouth: worthless, stupid, waste of life, ugly. You name it, he said it.

Taking out his anger on you, leaving you no chance to breathe until your mother pried his hands off of you while screaming for him to stop. As soon as he let go of you, you had run to your room where you're now hiding. You can feel the blood leaking from your nose and lip, one eye almost shut so tight you can hardly see out of it. You grabbed your phone and dialed 911 - terrified as to what your father might do, especially if he found out you had called the cops on him. The first responder tells you to stay where you are and keep the phone open. As you're about to reply, your door swings open and your father storms in. He rips you out from your desk and drags you to the kitchen again. You're too scared to even scream or cry.

He throws you to the floor, on the pieces of glass that remained on the floor from the broken plate you had dropped. The shards cut your hands and knees and crush into your skin. All you can do is lay there and pray that the first responder heard the scene unfold and sent police officers to your address. You're waiting to be saved, you feel helpless as always, you just want to get out.

You watch as your father punches your mother unconscious. You watch in fear as he approaches you and laughs. He tells you that this is all your fault. You watch him pull out his gun and point it as your mother who is laying on the floor lifeless. You scream as you lunge towards him to stop him but it was too late. The shot resonated throughout the tiny apartment with a sharp thud as you jumped him.

You wrestled him with all your might, grabbing a shard of glass from the floor and stabbing it into his thigh. He screamed in agony and cursed at you, punching you hard and sending you flying across the floor. You scramble to get up as you watch him point the gun to you this time. You make a split second decision and duck as you tackle his waist and force him to the ground. Wrestling again, you manage to grab the gun that is pointed at you and turn it the other way, facing your fathers chest directly. You look him in the eye as you tell him that his reign of terror has ended and you pull the trigger. You keep pulling the trigger until you hear the gun click.

You get up and look at yourself, covered in blood. Your father’s lifeless body laying there in a pool of his own blood. You hear the sirens and realize what you've done. You have to get out, now.

You grab everything you can and you run. You wash your hands, arms and chest in a pond in the forest you ran into and changed your clothes. Grabbing a pair of scissors in your bag you cut your hair to change your appearance. You take one look back at your apartment, now covered with flashing red and blue lights. You turn around and head into the forest, never looking back again.

You had found yourself in a homeless shelters for 4 years. Continuously dying your hair different colours and moving around from shelter to shelter. You had to because you were too recognizable, with a deep scar slashing across your lip and multiple scars littering the plans of your hands- a final gift from your father. When you couldn’t find a new shelter to stay at, the alleys outside were your best bet. Stealing food from trash cans and people’s lunches when they weren’t paying attention is how you survived. Keeping your appearance hidden and constantly different is how you evaded the cops. You were a missing person and a person of interest in the case of your parents. You had to get out of here to make it out alive. You decide to hop on a train and never look back.

When you woke up to the train halting to a stop. You look outside and realize you’re now in New York. You jump off the train and make your way to the city.

One day, at another random shelter, you met someone who ended up teaching you your way around computers. One thing led to another and you were a cyber whiz with an online community, making money off of rich assholes by hacking into their bank accounts and stealing some money they would never even notice was missing. You managed to get yourself a small shitty apartment, but you welcomed it as anything is better than the streets and shelters.

Once you were settled in a makeshift homb- the same home which the Avengers gracefully kidnapped you from - you decided you had to find a way to kill the old you and let the new you stay hidden.

You figured out a way to erase yourself from the world. You hacked into the government system and erased all documents pertaining to you; your birth certificate, medical records, dental records, school enrollments; everything. You manufactured one item and left it in the system for good measure; a death certificate. Nobody would search for a dead girl.

End of Flashback

You don't notice that you've sunken to the floor, shaking as you bring your knees up to your chest. Sobbing quietly as the horrific memory haunts your mind. You beg to whoever and whatever is listening to you for forgiveness. You beg to have your life taken from you. Your fathers dying words replaying in your mind forever: Worthless, stupid, waste of life.

Maybe he's right.

You hold yourself tighter as you continue crying, balled up on the floor until you fell asleep from exhaustion.

———————————————————————————-

Part 4

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag List:

@unaxv

@winterslove1917

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your shifts are often tedious. Slow and dull. You like the night shift because it’s not as stressful. Or was.

That night you spend looking out the windows in expectation. For each customer that walks across the tiles with echoing footfalls, you wait in expectation. They come and get their treats and go. None of them are him. That stranger. The one who looms like a shadow in your mind as he had that day on the street.

Dayani is late. You give her the keys with a yawn. You get a day off and you’re more than eager for it. You’re relieved to leave shy of the dreaded encounter.

You head off through the front doors and turn down the street. The tree planted between the sidewalk blocks splits in too and as a figure emerges from the shade. Oh no.

You make to walk past the dark-haired man who prefers his coffee black. He simply turns and walks parallel to you.

You glance over at him warily. He doesn’t look back. He keeps walking, only reaching blindly to take your hand in his. You go rigid but don’t pull away. You’re jittering in terror.

“What are you--””

“You think anyone’s gonna mess with me?” He says flatly.

“No, sir, but--”

“Brock,” he says, then recites your name. “Now we know each other.”

Your mouth opens and closes. His hand is hot and a woodsy cologne wafts from his jacket. His skin is rough against yours. He squeezes as if he can sense your reticence.

“Brock,” you repeat. “Okay.”

“You got a day off.”

It’s a statement. It’s without a sliver of doubt. How does he know that?

“I told you, you’re easy to follow. You need to look around more.” He reprimands. “Too late to see me. I’m here.”

His tone is eerie. It makes your skin tingle. He drags you on but not towards your usual route. He also told you not to take the alleyways.

“Sir, er, Brock?” You murmur.

“Those muffins are too sugary. You need a full breakfast.” He insists.

“Right, that’s... okay. Erm...”

“It’s a nice place. You’ll like it,” he says bluntly.

You don’t know what to say, or do. You want to run away but can’t. His hand is a snare and you’re a helpless rabbit caught in it. You look down at his thick fingers. You don’t understand. He was always so silent. You were sure he hated you.

He takes you into a diner. You’ve never noticed it before. It’s quiet this early. He brings you to a booth and sits across from you. You fold your hands in your lap as you sit on the bench and wait. You could try then to escape but you wouldn’t want to make a scene.

“Coffee, black,” he orders as the waitress comes by. He looks at you for the first time and as you ask politely for a green tea, he doesn’t look away. His eyes bore into you. The waitress goes to get your drinks.

“Quit.” He says.

You frown, “huh? What am I doing?”

“Your job.”

“My job?” You utter.

“No need for it.” He says.

“Sir, Brock. I... I have to pay my rent.”

“No. You don’t.” He lifts his menu and drops his eyes to the laminated list. “You have to eat.”

You follow his lead, only to have something to do. You take the menu and read it. The waitress returns and puts down your drinks. He gets sausage, bacon, and eggs. You get a waffle. She goes and you’re alone again.

“Good.” He says.

Your confusion tautens in your cheeks. Good what?

“Call your boss.” He says, “then we can enjoy our meal.”

“I really can't afford to quit–”

“I didn't ask. In fact, I didn't ask a single question. I'm telling you.” He sneers.

Your heart flips and you bit your lip.

“I'm more than happy to tell him myself. He pays you shit. I'll take care of you.”

“I don't… what do you want from me?” You croak.

He snickers, the most humour you've seen in him. He reaches for his cup and drink. He grimaces at the taste. “That's dog shit.”

You sigh impatiently. You're getting frustrated by his terse way. Somehow he is straight to the point but you're completely missing it.

“You. Just you. That's what I want.” He sits back and pushes his shoulders wide.

“Me?”

He stares at you and nods.

“Are you asking me out?” You wonder.

“I don't ask,” he jabs his finger into the table with each word.

“I… I don't know you, I–”

“You're too old for roommates. The place is shit anyway. Those old wires will start a fire and the sprinkled are rusted.” He overrides you. Again.

“No.”

“No,” he echoes with a snort. “Again, no question marks here.”

“You can't do this.”

“Can't do what? It's done.”

“No.”

“Give me your phone,” he demands.

“No, you can't–”

“Give me the damn phone. Now. Or I'll burn down that box you call a home myself.” His eyes are black pools that threaten to drown you.

You reach into your purse and take out your phone. He snatches it before you can react. His thumb taps and drags quickly across the screen. He puts it to his esr as the waitress returns with your food.

You thank her quietly as he ignores her.

“Yeah, I'm calling on her behalf. She quits.” He doesn't wait for a response. He hangs up and dials again. “She's tendering notice. Moving out. Fill the lease.”

In a few fell swoops, he's cut every string holding your life up. It all comes crashing as he hands the phone back and turns his attention to his food. You're not very hungry. A glance from him changes that. You lfit your fork to ease the edge in his jaw.

“Good girl,” he says as he cuts into the sausage.

[lovedropletsdreams]

Lost time - What If | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot : You’ve known him for almost a thousand years, he’d known you for a few centuries when he should’ve known you the same (Hisirdoux Casperan x reader)

Word Count: 700+

Warnings: none (slight swearing really)

A/N: It's been a while since i wrote this but this feels nice, the idea of it. Thank you @prismarts for being such a dear to help me beta read again (really you're just the sweetest bab), any suggestions and feedback are welcomed :D

Taglist: @furblrwurblr@prismarts@alovesongshewrote @castle-of-my-dreamsj

what if, instead of taking the second chance, you saw how happy he is with his life. Not knowing that he knows he's missing something that he can't put his fingers in.

So you decide to stay away from him. to avoid getting yourself tangled in his life ever again.

But the funny thing about fate, they just keep finding you at every turn. And with those every turn you find yourself unwillingly getting more and more tangled with him. He sees them, the way you'd try to avoid sharing too much about yourself, avoid showing too much emotion with him, and avoid spending more time to be in each other's presence.

At first, he thought it was how it was with you. Not until some time passes and he realizes.. it was him you avoid getting tangled with. only him. He was the one that you avoided sharing things about yourself, those little details about your life that you never opened up with. He was the one that you avoid showing much of your emotions from, whether it was happiness or other emotions, just a small polite smile here and there if he was lucky. He was the one you declined for invitations to spend more time together, getting to know each other more.

He was the only one you avoid. The one whom you set up your walls at. And the worst part is, even with all the avoidance and declined invitations, even with that polite smile of yours, he felt *full, just knowing you are part of his life, no matter how little it is. He felt the missing part, the void inside him was slowly filling up. And it hurts.

He was okay just to be part of your life, but for a long time, to get to see you and know you, even for a slight more, he craved more, he wanted more, to be someone (not that he knows he already is). He knew he started to grow feelings. And that's why it hurts, thinking you don't feel the same. And it's getting worse once you realize you can no longer avoid him and you started pushing him away instead.

So one day, the dam broke.

"Please let me have a chance, to get to know you, more. Not just about some task, or duty we need to do, but about you as a person. Stop pushing me away."

"You do not need to know me, i am not someone you need to tangle yourself with. Please just let it go--"

"Damn it, why? Why am I so infatuated with you?" And for the very first time in front of you, he snapped.

"I have never felt such a desire to know someone. Every fiber in my body is telling me I should just stop, but… I…"

He stopped and took a deep breath, stepping closer as he looked straight into your eyes. Your heartbeats grew until you could hear nothing but blood pumping inside your heart. It feels like your lungs are being cut off from the air as you see into his eyes. The past images flashed in your eyes, that damn gaze, the very same gaze, your Douxie used to give you. the close distance between you two doesn't help your mind to process everything fast enough.

"I do not understand you" he spoke softly, with a tone similar to a glass breaking, he laid bare his broken heart at you. "You are the most complex person I have ever met. Perhaps I should hate you for everything you've put me through. But.. despite all of that, every moment, every encounter, every second I spent with you filled my heart. It filled the void I thought I'd have to live with all my life. You put the pieces to fill that void without even realizing it. I was content with my life, even with that void." He pauses.

"But, meeting you and feeling how the void was finally filled, is more magical than any magic I ever seen in my life. So please, will you give me a chance to let me in? No more avoiding, no more pushing, just you."

So the decision is in your hands, will you let him in and bare yourself?