#taken loosely from a conversation I had with a friend

[eufezco]

CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD SPOILERS 👇🏻

ARE YOU JEALOUS? 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

congressman!bucky barnes x fem!readwr

synopsis – bucky finds out that you're jealous about those comments that woman madd about him.

a/n – i hate her and her stupid fucking character better stay away from bucky. free palestine 🇵🇸

joaquin had taken a bad hit during a mission with sam, bad enough to need surgery and land him in the hospital for a few days. being in congress meant bucky had access to that kind of information, and as soon as he saw joaquin’s name in a report, he knew what that meant.

bucky walked into your office without a word, you barely had time to look up before he dropped a file onto your desk.

—good morning to you too, —you teased, raising your eyebrows and looking at the papers he just placed on your desk. then, you looked at him. —not even a kiss for your sweet girlfriend?

he looked ridiculously good in that black suit, broad shoulders filling it out perfectly, the fabric hugging his frame in a way that was almost unfair. his tie was just a little loose, and you had the sudden urge to tug on it and pull him closer. bucky sighed and stepped forward. his metal fingers brushed your cheek before he leaned down and gave a quick kiss to your lips.

you hummed and nodded. —thank you, —you grabbed the papers and opened the file. —you left earlier this morning, i wanted to have breakfast with you.

—yeah, sorry, this came up.

you glanced down at the folder, your eyes scanned the first few lines and then stopped. torres, joaquin – injured in action. bucky exhaled, finally moving. he sat on the edge of your desk, fingers drumming against the wood. —mission went sideways. he took a hit.

you stood up from your chair and went to sit next to him, close enough that your knee brushed against his. —how bad?

bucky sighed. —fractured ribs, concussion, some internal bleeding. they got to him in time, he’s stable but...

—and sam?

—got here this morning.

you closed the file, inhaling slowly to steady yourself. bucky was watching you, waiting for your reaction. you met his gaze and nodded. —then let’s go

before you stepped into the private room, you paused, standing in front of bucky. his gaze was fixed ahead, his jaw tight, he hadn’t said much since the moment you arrived at the hospital. he was trying to figure out what to say to sam.

—you're good, —you said quietly, —sam is our friend, he'd appreciate us being here. —your hand gently coming up to rest on his chest, fixing his tie, —you'd know what to say when you see him.

bucky nodded, his eyes met yours, but you could see the how his gaze softened as he let your words settle in. you stood up on your tiptoes and placed a quick, soft kiss right in the middle of his lips.

you weren’t wrong. as soon as the door opened, sam’s eyes landed on both of you. he looked exhausted, like the weight of the world had been pressing down on him, but the relief in his eyes when he saw you both was undeniable. he also looked at your fingers laced. last time you three were together, things were... complicated. bucky didn't know if he deserved a relationship and sam, being sam, wanted to be supportive but didn't want to rush things between you two. now, seeing you both standing there, so... together, sam felt relief that bucky had come to terms with his own feelings.

you hugged sam and then bucky hugged him. you asked about joaquin's state as you watched through the glass how the surgeons worked.

bucky and sam had the sweetest interaction, you let bucky talk as you stood next to him, holding onto his arm. as you predicted, bucky said exactly what sam needed to hear and by the end of their conversation you noticed how sam felt more confident. then, the phone in bucky's pocket buzzed breaking the moment. he checked the screen and sighed,

—i gotta go, —he said quietly. before he stepped away, he pulled sam into one last hug, holding him tightly. —take care of yourself, alright? —he murmured. once bucky pulled back, he turned to you, his fingers brushing your arm gently before he kissed you on the lips. —see you at home.

sam raised his eyebrows and looked at you when bucky left. —kissing in public, living together, that way he looks at you... you've got him wrapped around your finger.

you laughed and shook your head. you were going to say something but in that moment someone else entered the room.

—future congressman james buchanan barnes.

you frowned. who was talking about your boyfriend? leaning slightly, you peered around sam. standing on the other side of him was a small woman, sharp-eyed, impeccably dressed, exuding authority, but what did she have to say about your bucky?

her gaze was still fixed on the spot where he had just walked away, head tilted slightly like she was noticing something only she could see. wow, were you missing something?

—he's taller in real life. nice smile too, good amount of teeth. great posture.

—he's a 110, —sam added.

—and taken.

the woman finally turned to look at you, her expression unreadable, but there was amusement. she studied you for a second before offering a knowing little smile. —noted.

you got home before bucky did. you figured you’d cook something nice for dinner. you couldn’t share breakfast with him, but you’d make the most of dinner but even as you chopped vegetables and stirred the rice you were preparing, those words echoed in your head. great posture, nice smile.

you scoffed, gripping the knife just a little too tightly. yeah, no shit he has a nice smile. you’d spent enough time staring at it to know that. and his posture? sure, the man stood like he was built from granite, all strong shoulders and perfect stance—but why the hell was she the one noticing it? you wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type to get jealous. it wasn’t like you were insecure—you trusted him completely. but still… something about another woman noticing him, talking about him like that...

you took a deep breath, shaking it off. it was fine. you were fine. you had no reason to feel this way. bucky was yours. he came home to you, kissed you, held you when he thought no one was looking.

bucky called your name, shutting the door behind him. —i'm home.

—i'm in the kitchen! —you said trying to sound casual, even though you were still thinking about that damn conversation from earlier.

bucky approached you and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin rested on your shoulder, his beard tickled your skin as he murmured, —smells amazing.

you smiled, proud. —figured we didn’t get breakfast together, so i’d make up for it with dinner.

he hummed in appreciation, planting a kiss on your shoulder.

—how was your day? —you asked as he watched you cook. his presence stopped all the overthinking you'd been doing since you got home for a minute, his touch was reassuring enough to almost make you forgot completely about how the words of that woman made you feel. the way his exhausted body was molding into yours, like he needed you to keep him steady, it all made you feel just a little better.

—long, —he admitted, kissing your shoulder again. —meetings, calls and a whole lot of people telling me what i should be doing.

you hummed in response, —sounds frustrating.

bucky noticed the stiffness in your body almost immediately. you let him hug you, you acted like nothing happened, you even seemed to be glad for his touch yet your body told a different story. but he didn’t let go. instead, his metal hand slid lower, fingers splaying over your stomach while his flesh hand found your hip. —what’s going on in that head of yours? —he murmured against your skin.

—nothing, i was just thinking... it was nice seeing sam, wasn't it? we should invite him over sometime, hang out with him in another circumstances.

bucky wasn't convinced, there was something else, but he agreed with you. —yeah, it was good to see him. it’s been too long since we’ve had a proper catch-up, just the three of us.

you hummed. you couldn’t shake the feeling. you tried to push it down, but you knew you needed to ask. you couldn't hold it in any longer. —did you know that woman? —you asked, trying to keep your tone casual. —the one that came in when you left?

bucky paused for a moment before responding. —yeah, she's head of security of thaddeus ross.

you raised your eyebrows, bucky was looking at you, his chin still resting on your shoulder, yet you were focused on the rice. —she seemed a little too interested in you.

he frowned. —how so?

—oh, she mentioned your nice smile and great posture.

bucky was quiet for a moment, then you felt his chest shake against your back. he was laughing. —you're jealous, —he realized.

you pulled away from his hold and turning to face him, arms crossed, almost offended, not because he wasn't right but because he had figured it out so easily. —no, i'm not.

he smirked as he watched you with knowing eyes. those deep blue eyes. had that woman noticed them too? had she seen how they darkened under the dim lights of the office? or how they became even more shadowed after a restless night? you clenched your jaw.

—yes, you are. you’re jealous over a comment about my posture.

you scoffed. —that’s not— you huffed, shaking your head. that smirk remained on his lips, waiting to see how you tried to explain yourself. —it’s not just that! it’s the way she was looking at you, like she was mentally taking notes. and i know what you're gonna say, she was just doing her job, but she was not just doing her job when she called you well-built with a nice smile like you were some—some political snack.

bucky raised his eyebrows and then couldn't help a laugh escaping his lips at that, shaking his head in disbelief. ugh, he did have the nicest smile. —political snack?

—shut up, —you muttered, your cheeks warming.

he reached for you again, this time catching your waist and pulling you right up against him, his laughter dying down into something softer. —you’re so sexy when you’re jealous, you know that?

you narrowed your eyes at him. —not jealous.

—oh yeah, totally jealous, —he teased, grinning as he leaned closer, lips barely brushing against yours. —and so possessive.

before you could complain again, he pressed his lips against yours. your lips moved in perfect sync, this was exactly what you needed.

his mouth tasted like fruit, sweet and familiar. that damn tropical gum he always chewed. would that woman know that? would she know that he liked it because it reminded him of the time he spent learning himself again, reclaiming parts of his life he thought were lost? that he once moved heaven and earth just to find gum that tasted like plum? would she know that when he chewed peppermint gum, his lips turned pinker than usual because he was so used to the soft, sweet taste of fruit-flavored ones?

you sighed into the kiss, relieved to think that you were the only one who knew these things about him. your hands sliding up to grip his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

bucky chuckled against your lips, the vibration sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. he pulled back just enough to murmur, —you’re telling me this death grip on my shirt isn't possessive and jealous?

you refused to let go, using it to pull him into a kiss again. —it’s not.

his metal hand curled around your waist, sliding down until it cupped your ass. bucky pulled back again and you whined, annoyed. he murmured, —so if that woman from earlier showed up right now, you wouldn’t throw something at her? —his smirk was downright smug now, he was enjoying this way too much.

you rolled your eyes. —i wouldn’t throw something at her. i’d throw something near her. just to remind her what’s off-limits.

the smirk never left his lips. he slowly let go of his grip on your body, his metal hand dragging over your skin just enough to make you shiver. then, he took a step back. and another. his eyes never left yours, the challenge clear in them. —and if i walked into another room right now, —he tilted his head, —you wouldn’t follow me to make sure no one else was looking at your man?

you groaned. before he could take another step, your hand shot out, grabbing his tie and yanking him back toward you. he stumbled, his body colliding with yours. his hands instinctively landed on your waist to steady himself. —i wouldn't even let my man walk out of here.

your lips met in another heated kiss, his breath mixing with yours as your fingers tangled deeper into his hair. you felt him shiver slightly under your touch, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed himself closer. his hair was getting longer. you could feel it, the way your fingers sank into the thick strands, how easily you could grab and tug at it. and god, you loved it like this.

he's taller in real life...

bucky’s hands gripped your waist firmly as he effortlessly lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his body. his hands shamelessly moved to your ass as yours went to the back of his head to deepen the kiss. he placed you on the edge of the table, the cold surface pressing against your thighs as he stood between your legs, his hands resting on your hips.

you started to lean back, pulling at his tie and guiding him down with you. his body followed, towering over you. his hands were on either side of your body, holding himself up just enough to keep from fully pinning you to the table.

—you really like this, don’t you? —he murmured against your lips.

you smirked, your fingers kept on tightening his tie, —like what?

his metal fingers squeezed the bare skin of your thighs, a low growl escaped his lips. —being a little brat, —he muttered, his mouth trailing along your jaw, down to the curve of your neck.

you shivered, your head tilting to give him better access. —maybe.

—you’re lucky i like it, —he dragged your pajama pants and your underwear down your legs with ease.

—lucky? —your hands slipped down to the knot of his tie, loosening it and sliding the fabric through your fingers. then, you skillfully unbuttoned his white shirt with urgency. you couldn’t help but moan a quiet fuck under your breath as you pulled his shirt open, your fingers grazing over the defined lines of his torso. perfectly sculpted muscles tensed beneath your touch. your gaze traced the scars along his shoulder where the metal met his skin as you pushed the shirt down his arms.

—very lucky.

... nice smile too, good amount of teeth...

bucky unzipped his pants as you squeezed his body with your thighs. he pushed himself inside of you without warning, you let out a loud moan and held onto his biceps as you felt how he bottomed you.

he smiled, watching your reaction. he then hid his face in your neck. —you really think i don’t know who i belong to? —his voice was lower now, rougher. his hot breath against your skin spiked goosebumps on your body. —you think anyone else could ever touch me the way you do?

... great posture.

you held onto his strong and broad shoulders while your head was thrown back, eyes closed shut, lips parted letting out the most sinful sounds. his flesh-and-blood hand moved to the back of your head so you wouldn't hurt yourself. his back was a bit arched, just enough for his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you every time he trusted into you.

you connected your lips with his as you swallowed his moans. your hands, without any shame, traveled down his muscled and tensed back until they reached his ass. you squeezed it, enjoying yourself and helping him to push into you.

—say it, —bucky said in between moans.

travelling up his tensed back, your fingers curled into the hair at the back of his head, tugging just enough to make him groan, you encircled your legs around his body and locked your ankles over the swell of his ass. you felt that burn sensation in the pit of your stomach. —you’re mine.

he exhaled sharply, pressing a slow, claiming kiss to your throat. his hands traced up your thighs, gripping you like he never wanted to let go. you felt his metal fingers closing a bit tighter, —and you’re mine.

you came digging your nails into his back, your legs around his body squeezing him and bucky let more of his weight settle against you once his orgasm hit him. his pace became faster and harder when he was close, his metal hand on your hips tightened, pressing you firmly against the surface of the table, and you knew that by morning, you'd see the imprint of his fingers on your skin. and you could't complain because you loved it.

even though you knew he’d hate. he never liked seeing the marks he left on you. he’d frown when he saw the faint bruises his grip had left on your hips, running his fingers over them with something like regret in his eyes. he’d mutter something about being too rough, about how he should be more careful. but the truth was that you craved it.

but as much as bucky hated to mark you, he loved when you marked him. it was a reminder that everything was real—that you were real. that it wasn’t some dream he’d wake up from, alone and lost. that he wasn’t the ghost of a man wandering through a life that didn’t belong to him anymore. and when he saw those scratches in his back in the mirror tomorrow, when he felt that sting as his shirt brushed against them, he’d know—he wasn’t just existing. he was living.

you pushed the strands of hair that were falling over his face and some that were sticking to his forehead as you both tried to catch your breaths.

—would you think i'm crazy if i say i don't want her anywhere near you?

bucky huffed a laugh, pulling out of you and letting you sat up on your elbows. —i’d think that you’re, in fact, jealous.

you rolled your eyes. —whatever. but if i heard her talking about your posture again, i swear i'll...

before you could finish the sentence, bucky pressed his lips to yours, cutting you off. his kiss was soft, but there was a quiet intensity behind it, a reassurance that you didn’t need to say more. —maybe there's a touch of craziness, yeah.

[firingstars]

runaway [one-shot]

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky comes face to face with his last living relative from his family tree, and it's an eight year old little girl running away from her adopted mom.

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, fingering, the kid is a fucking brat for like two seconds but she's cute i promise, language, alcohol, alternating pov's, thunderbolts timeline (semi movie spoilers), bucky doesn't know how to be a parental figure, you are a tired parental figure, mentions of relationship abuse (DV) not between character x reader if you or someone you know is in danger/in need of assistance please call this hotline: 800-799-7233 or text BEGIN to 88788

word count: 19.5k (????????)

a/n: this was meant to be posted on father's day but then i completely dropped the ball and then didn't finish it in time but... happy late father's day to bucky who didn't even mean to be a father in this fic LOL

masterlist

Bucky is staring at the little girl in front of him, who is missing one of her front teeth. Her hair was in two braids, though the braids were loose and falling apart with red bows at the end. She is defiant, arms crossed at her chest. On the seat beside hers is a Hello Kitty backpack– one that he only recognizes as Hello Kitty because the girl in front of him just finished a twenty minute lecture on the animated character along with all of her friends and how Hello Kitty is only three apples tall– whatever the hell that means.

“Listen, kid, where are your parents?” Bucky asked, swiping a hand over his mouth. 

“I’m staring at him,” she responded. Once again, the same fucking answer that she has been telling him since she arrived an hour ago. 

Bucky glanced over at the clock on the oven. It’s nearing four in the morning now, and he can only think that the little girl is lucky that he was home tonight, and passed over his mission to Walker who was begging to get out of Watchtower.

Bucky still isn’t sure how this girl was able to find his apartment.

“I think I would remember if I did the thing to have a child, kid. How old are you?” 

“What thing?” she asked, frowning at him.

No. Bucky is not having this conversation right now.

“How old are you?” he repeated.

“I’m eight.”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly. Eight years ago, he definitely did not have sex with anyone. He was still in Wakanda with Shuri, getting the brainwashing pulled out of his head. 

Normally he wouldn’t be hesitating like this, but staring at this little girl was giving him doubts. Bucky couldn’t help but feel some kind of uncanny resemblance to her. She looked familiar to him. Her deep brown hair, the stormy blue eyes. The chubby little cheeks that haven’t completely lost all her baby fat– she looked like his little sister.

“I’m not your dad, you know that right?” Bucky finally asked with a sigh. 

“Yes,” she nodded. 

“Alright. Then where are your–”

“You’re my great granduncle,” she cut him off, turning to her backpack. Bucky froze as she unzipped her Hello Kitty bag, pulling out both her tablet that was also cased in another Sanrio character that he wasn’t sure of the name, and a binder that he recognized.

A family tree that he helped organize.

The little girl opened up the binder, going onto her knees, flipping right to the first page and pointed at the small portrait of him. The last picture of himself– a picture that he had taken right before he went off to war. 

“That’s you, isn’t it? James Buchanan Barnes,” she said stubbornly. 

Bucky couldn’t speak. The little girl flipped forward a few pages, the portraits becoming clearer and made of color now until it landed on her page. Then, she pointed at her own picture. A chubby little infant that had just gotten out of the womb. Under her portrait read the name Rebecca Winnifred Lee. 

“My mom named me after my great grandma,” she said, as if she saw his eyes land on the words. 

“And our ma, apparently,” Bucky muttered. 

He kept staring at the book– eyes following the tree. He noticed that there wasn’t a spot where Rebecca’s father should be. Her mom’s name was Tabitha. 

“Where’s your mom, Rebecca?” Bucky finally asked, looking at the little girl. Rebecca shrugged a little then turned the binder towards herself, looking at the little portrait of her mom. 

“Dunno,” she said, her voice small and weak. “Have no clue. I don’t have a family anymore.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at this. “Are you an orphan?”

“I’m hungry, grandpa,” she said, closing the book. She stared at him with wide eyes, and a pout. “Do you have any chicken nuggets?”

“First off– don’t call me that. Second off– you can’t just ignore the question.”

“I’m hungry. I can’t think when I’m hungry,” she defended herself, frowning at him.

Bucky could only stare in disbelief. This little girl had the same fire as Becky did. He let out a deep breath before getting up to go to the kitchen. He didn’t have fucking chicken nuggets, but he could cook her an omelet or something. 

“Just stay put,” he muttered.

Even after Rebecca ate, she did not answer any questions. Maybe it was due to the fact that she was only eight years old, but she was exhausted. He still had no idea how she got to his apartment in New York all by herself, or where the fuck she came from. She gave him no answers. She was a better spy than his own teammates. In fact, it was easier interrogating enemies than it was interrogating an eight year old.

After she fell asleep on his couch, he tried going through her backpack. He turned on her tablet, which was locked, so he couldn’t find much information there. The only thing he did see was a picture of Tabitha and Rebecca from when Rebecca was a baby– Tabitha holding her close to her chest. Other contents in the backpack included a crumbled up bus pass, an alarming amount of money for a child, a couple of squished granola bars, and wrappers. 

While she slept, Bucky ran his own research. 

He needed to make sure this child wasn’t some sort of spy that was sent as a decoy for a mission to keep his guard down for whatever reason. He wouldn’t hurt her, of course, but it wouldn’t be the first time a child was sent to him to disarm him. 

Rebecca Winnifred Lee was definitely not an orphan, but she did not have any existing biological parents in the picture. In fact, Tabitha was dead. She had died when Rebecca was a baby– barely even two years old. The dad wasn’t even on the birth certificate, so Bucky could only assume that he was a deadbeat father.

Tabitha passed away from a car accident. It was sudden, and it was fatal on impact. There was no will that was left. There were no last words. Only a body bag and a call that went to her friend’s phone as her only emergency contact, and her friend immediately adopted Rebecca without hesitation. 

It wasn’t difficult to grab all of this information from the database, especially with the level of clearance that Bucky had.

From looking up Rebecca’s information– she came all the way from Newport. A five hour bus ride if there were no delays. It would take about three hours by car if you were lucky. 

Bucky dragged his vibranium hand down his face, feeling an ache beginning to form behind his eyes. He really shouldn’t be feeling this annoyed, not when Rebecca’s guardian must have torn apart the entire city looking for the little girl. He couldn’t imagine how she would feel knowing that Rebecca was actually two states away. 

Bucky tried calling Rebecca’s guardian, only for the call to go immediately straight to voicemail. He tried again, only for the same thing to happen. He let out a sigh before deciding to leave a message.

You were going to kill Rebecca. Truly. You really were. 

Well, you were going to strangle her in your arms with hugs and kisses after you found her. Then you were going to kill her for making you worry like this.

She had been giving you hell for the past six months of your life, and you really were doing your best to raise her with all your strength. You understood her, you really did. Rebecca knew that you weren’t her mother, but that you were doing everything that you could to help fill that void that was left behind. 

She used to call you Momma when she was younger. You corrected her each time, telling her that you were Auntie. She was confused, but relented and changed up her way of speaking to you. 

When she was old enough, she told you that she wanted to call you Momma even though she knew that her biological mother had passed away. From that point onwards, you allowed her to do so.

You don’t know what switched in Rebecca. You don’t know why she stopped running up to you with a big grin and a hug during pick ups after school. You aren’t sure why she stopped looking at you with happiness and love, and it hurt. You think it has something to do with the kids at school teasing her. You’re certain it has to.

During the last parent teacher conference, you sat down with her teacher and she made an offhand comment about how it must be so difficult raising a child that wasn’t yours.

Rebecca was yours. 

And when Tabitha met her untimely, unfair death, it wasn’t any question for you to take Rebecca in as your own. Because she was. You were there for every late night and early morning colicky cry. You helped change blown out diapers. You warmed up bottles, rocked her to sleep, sang her lullabies. 

And when you were alone, you did it all by yourself. You didn’t complain once because it was no longer Tabitha who needed your help. Rebecca needed you now, and you would do anything for her. 

She was your daughter as much as she was Tabitha’s.

Even if Tabitha was here, she would be your child. 

And Rebecca hated you for replacing Tabitha.

She told it to you, to your face not too long ago. She said that she wished that you were the one that died, and not her real mom. You knew that she didn’t mean it, of course. That it was words from a child that didn’t know how to express her grief– that didn’t understand that words hurt. You still loved her all the same, even though you were upset with her. 

Now, you got a call from the school in the middle of your work day. She never got on the bus that morning, never made it to school. You spent all day driving around the city, looking for her while the police were doing the same. You called your neighbors, her friend’s parents, the school again– anyone and everyone that you could possibly think of.

You went back home to search to find that some of her things were taken. Her shoes were gone. Her backpack was missing, along with her tablet, and wallet that she normally only keeps in her little crossbody purse that she wears when you two go out together. 

To your utter disappointment, her tablet was off. You can’t use the Find My feature to track her, and you check every single chance. You’re constantly looking just in case it turns on. 

There’s a million things running through your mind at this moment. Did she run away? Did she really hate you that much? 

Then, a deeper, unsettling feeling– she was taken while you were at work. Someone slipped in while she was eating breakfast and took her in your own home. The place where she was supposed to be safe– the child that you promised your best friend that you would protect.

You were terrified.

You didn’t even care if she ran away at this point. You wanted her home. You wanted to hold her in your arms and cry. 

The police had already sent you home, said they had sent a call to all surrounding stations in the area for a search, but there wasn’t much that you could do at this time. You sat alone in your dark living room, phone on the coffee table with the location of her tablet still showing up as Location Not Found. Your eyes were tired, growing bleary–

Becky Baby last seen in Manhattan. Just now.

You grabbed your car keys, purse, and rushed out the door. 

The roads were clear, which made the ride faster– but you were certain that it also had something to do with the fact that you were going twenty five miles over the speed limit. You were thankful there weren’t any cops that were out and about this early in the morning. 

You stopped momentarily for gas, and to text your boss that you wouldn’t be able to make it into the office tomorrow for the same family emergency that made you leave work early today– and found a text with an address. A Manhattan address with an apartment unit number. 

Then, you found a voicemail waiting for you.

“Hi,” the man said before clearing his throat. “I’m not too certain how to say this, but I have Rebecca in my apartment– Uh. She’s safe. Fed. Sleeping right now. I’ll text you my address to come pick her up. Thanks. Oh- My name is Bucky, by the way.”

What the fuck.

You got back in your car and drove another ten miles over the speed limit. 

You pushed past the man who let you in, your eyes zeroing in on the little girl. She wore the same clothes that she wore yesterday morning when you saw her get ready– the same clothes that she was supposed to wear onto the bus and to school. 

And she was indeed sleeping peacefully, some drool sliding down her face, hair sticking to her cheek. Your heart was thumping in your chest, tears brimming in your eyes as the weight of everything came crashing down onto you. 

You dropped onto your knees in front of the couch- burying your face in your hands. You hit the couch slightly, rustling her awake.

“Mm.. Momma..?” she murmured sleepily. Just for a moment, your heart felt full. You felt like you were looking at that small toddler who would run up to you with legos and a mission. 

“Becky– you little brat!” you sobbed through tears. “What were you thinking?!” 

You watched as sleep quickly disappeared from her face as she scrambled to sit up, eyes wide on her little face. Her eyes darted from you and the man– Bucky, you guess from the voicemail– and she looked betrayed.

“You called her?!” she shrieked.

“You can’t just run away from your mom, kid,” he sighed deeply from behind you.

“I told you!” she whined at him. “She’s not my mom!”

Your heart broke all over again, but you forced it back into place. You wiped your tears away angrily, and let out a breath. You grabbed her by her tiny shoulders, forcing her to look you in the eyes. 

“Rebecca, I don’t care who you think I am. I am your legal guardian. Until you are eighteen years old, I have legal responsibility over you. That means you can’t just run past state lines whenever you want and go into strangers' houses!”

“He’s not a stranger! He’s my great granduncle!” she complained to you, pointing at him.

“What?” you gaped at her, eyebrows furrowing. “Becks, your great granduncle would be like, a 110 years old.”

“Yes,” he said from behind you. “I am.”

You finally turned around to take a good look at the man that you had blown past earlier. He had a box of tissues in his hands, presumably for you. His hair was dark brown, long, pretty, and curly. Just like Becky’s. His eyes were a stormy grey blue that you could get lost in, one that you were certain was an unnatural color. He was a muscular man, tall, handsome. Tanned skin. There was a well kept beard on his face. Another defining feature was the metal fucking arm that peeked out of his t-shirt.

“I’m Bucky,” he said, breaking the silence again.

You blinked, releasing a breath that you weren’t aware that you were holding. You stood, clearing your throat, and introduced yourself to him. 

“Are you— You’re all over the news,” you said slowly. “Right? Or am I losing my mind here?”

“Um. No. I am, unfortunately.”

“That’s how I found him!” Rebecca chimed in proudly from the couch. You turned to look at her again. “I was going through Mommy’s old things and found the family book tree and saw his name there– and then I saw the news about him in New York, and I thought he looked really familiar so I searched it up. He’s the same person!”

If you weren’t so pissed about the circumstances you were in, you would have praised her for being so smart, and having such great skills for being so young. However, you are still in New York when you live in Rhode Island. Your head is still pounding, and Rebecca still doesn’t seem to understand the weight of her actions.

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you lower yourself to be eye level with her again.

“Do you understand how dangerous this was, Becky?” you ask, your voice lowered. You’re not condescending her. You’re not yelling at her. 

Rebecca pauses, and she curls in on herself. No matter how much she dislikes you these past few months, she still has the muscle memory of a little girl being scolded by her parent. She looks down at her hands, fidgeting. 

“What if something happened to you?” you asked, eyebrows furrowing. “You are extremely lucky that you got to Bucky safely. There are thousands of bad people in the world that would love to take little girls off the street and do horrible things to them, do you understand?”

“But it didn’t happen,” she argued weakly. 

“Just because it didn’t happen, doesn’t mean that it can’t,” you replied, shaking your head. “How did you get here? Bus?”

Rebecca nods after a few moments. You sighed deeply, running a hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself down.

“How did you get the ticket for the bus?” you asked next.

“Used your card… and your computer. Booked it online when you were sleeping,” she admitted softly. “Printed out the ticket at home, then walked to the station after you left for work yesterday.”

You close your eyes tight to reign in the anger that you feel festering in your chest. You want to scream. You didn’t check your bank statement– it didn’t cross your mind when she ran off to look. Rebecca had never done such a thing before. You didn’t think she was capable of doing something like that. 

“Why, Becky? Do you hate me that much?” you asked finally. “Do I make you that unhappy?”

“I don’t like you,” she said stubbornly. “You’re nobody to me.”

“Do you know how hurtful that is?” you whispered to her.

“I don’t care!” she screamed at you. “You’re not my mom! Stop trying to be!”

Rebecca pushed past you, rushing deeper into the apartment. A door slams shut, and you’re left stunned. You’re helpless for a few moments before a tissue box is placed in front of you.

“She went into the bathroom,” Bucky murmured. “Can I get you anything? Water? Beer?”

You let out a dry laugh. “A daughter that doesn’t hate me.”

“Sorry. I don’t know anything about kids,” he chuckled in response.

You let out a deep sigh, shifting to sit down on the couch. Bucky moved, too. He sat beside you, the two of you silent. You let the last few moments wash over you as you replayed your conversation with Rebecca in your mind. Then, you took a deep breath.

“I’m really sorry about this,” you finally said, looking at him. Bucky turned to face you. You clarified, “About bringing our family drama into your apartment. I’m sure you’re tired… and busy.”

“It’s no worries, really,” he promised, giving you a small smile. “It was a surprise, truly. Finding out that I have living relatives.”

“Well– I’m pretty sure she’s the only one. Even though she doesn’t have your last name,” you said with a small laugh. “She kinda looks like you.”

“She looks like my little sister,” Bucky corrected. “And has my sister’s name.”

“Tabitha named her after her grandma– your sister,” you recalled. Bucky nodded. “So it was on purpose then. Maybe the two of you were meant to meet at some point.”

“I’m sure she’s a sweet girl,” Bucky said, locking eyes with you. “You’ve done a really good job raising her.”

“Don’t say that to me right now. I just stopped crying,” you scoffed, though your voice broke as the words escaped your lips.

“I’m shit at comforting people, but I mean it,” he said, sliding the tissue box closer to you. “She’s smart– I’ll give her that. I’m not around a lot of eight year olds, but I sure as hell don’t think that I could’ve gone across state lines at eight years old with the amount of confidence that she has. One of my coworkers– he’s a dad. Well, two of them are. They say that children’s confidence and pride starts at home. So you must be doing something right.”

“She gets it from her mom,” you muttered, pulling a few tissues from the box to bring to your eyes.

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s you,” he said, his voice soft. 

It was quiet for another few moments between the two of you. You weren’t sure what to say, not with tears streaming down your face. Bucky doesn’t judge you though. He waits patiently as you wipe your tears away and blow your nose, trying to calm yourself down.

It was nice to hear those words.

The sun was already starting to fully show itself, and you could hear the streets of New York begin to wake. You were certain that this man also had places to be. You couldn’t be in his hair the entire day.

“I’m really sorry for imposing again,” you whispered, finally getting a hold of yourself once more. “Would you– Can you try coaxing her out of the bathroom? I’m sure if she hears me, she won’t come out.”

“Really– no worries. I got it.”

You watch Bucky get up from the couch and make his way down the hall. You hear him knock on the door. While he takes care of that, you decide to pick up Rebecca’s things. 

You put the binder back in her backpack, along with her tablet. You find her snacks and printed bus pass as well on the table, and put that away as well. You take out the wrappers and trash from inside her bag and find the trash can under Bucky’s kitchen sink to toss the mess away.

You sat at the kitchen table, nodding off slightly. You’re really not sure how much time has passed before Rebecca is coaxed out of the bathroom. However, you jump to your feet when you hear the bathroom door open.

A few moments later, you see her walking out the hall. Her eyes are red just like her nose. She’s sniffling, one hand gripping her shirt like she’s just been scolded. The other hand is holding onto Bucky’s flesh hand. 

You let out a breath of relief as you pick up her backpack and your purse, slinging both bags over your shoulder.

“Come on, Becks. Let’s go home now.”

Panic flashes across her face, and she turns to rush to the bathroom again. Thankfully, Bucky is still holding her hand, and he keeps a firm grip on her.

“Nope,” he sighed, pulling her back. “You gotta go, Rebecca.”

“You can’t make me!” she cried, tugging on her arm. “I don’t want to leave!”

“I don’t have the facilities to raise a kid, kid,” Bucky sighed deeply before leaning down, picking her up in his arms. He gives you a nod. “Lead the way.”

You move towards the door while she squirms in his arms, whining all the same. 

You make it down the apartment building towards the street where you parked. You unlock your car and place Rebecca’s backpack beside her booster seat. Then, you turn to Bucky, who’s ready to transfer Rebecca into your arms. The second that he does, she’s screaming her head off.

“KIDNAPPER! THIS WOMAN IS KIDNAPPING ME!”

You both freeze in your spots as people on the street begin to stop and stare. Some are taking their phones out, taking pictures of you– some are calling who you assume is 911.

Rebecca manages to wiggle her way out of your arms and slams herself back into Bucky’s body.

“Daddy, don’t let her take me away!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his torso. 

Bucky is staring at her, shock and confusion all over his face. Then, he’s looking at you. He lets out a slow, deep breath before reaching behind you, shutting the door of the car. Then, Bucky reaches for your hand as he bends down to pick up Rebecca at the same time. Wordlessly, he pulls both of you back into the apartment building before more bypassers can take more photos of you or before the cops can come.

For whatever reason or purpose, Bucky gives the two of you his apartment to stay at for the foreseeable future. You want to say it’s out of the kindness of his heart, but you know it’s because your daughter cannot be trusted, and you will most likely be arrested the next time you attempt to bring her outside to your car again. 

Thankfully, Rebecca chose the last day of third grade to run away on, so she’s in the middle of summer right now. You don’t have to worry about her missing any academics. However, you have to put in an emergency request for PTO with your company for about a month since you’re not sure how long her tantrum is going to last you. 

You’re more than certain that you’ll have to run to the nearest Best Buy and purchase a new laptop within the next few days to remotely troubleshoot anything that your boss from hell's needs you to. She had two other assistants that you personally trained, but it seemed like every single time you were away from the office, the entire building would come crashing down.

One last text was sent out to your neighbor, who often took care of Rebecca when you had to work long nights preparing for presentations. She had a spare key to your house. You asked her to go around the entire house and unplug every electronic and appliance that she could find, and let her know that you found Rebecca.

Texts and emails were flooding your phone, adding to the headache that was already thundering behind your forehead. You put your phone on do not disturb, and put it face down on the coffee table before burying your face in your hands.

You allowed yourself one brief moment of silence before lifting your head. Rebecca was asleep on the couch again. After her tantrum outside, she tired herself out once more. 

You didn’t understand it.

She wasn’t like this before. She was a good, well-mannered little girl. She followed the rules, never caused you any trouble. Rebecca was more than eager to do everything right. She hated to be the issue for anyone. You never had any problems raising her. You consider yourself lucky these past eight years.

This was the first time since Tabitha passed away that you felt overwhelmed with her. You could feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes again. You couldn’t abandon her, as much as she claimed to hate you. You needed to take her back with you, and you needed to somehow get her to understand that doing all of this wasn’t right.

The door in the hallway opened, and you quickly wiped away your tears as you sat up straight. Bucky came into view a few moments later, shoving his arms through a leather jacket before fastening his gloves over his hands. You paused at the sight– gloves in the middle of summer? You didn’t ask as he pulled out a key and something else from his jean pocket. 

“Spare key,” Bucky said, handing it to you along with a black card– a business credit card.

“What is this for?”

“Groceries. I don’t know what Rebecca eats. She asked me for chicken nuggets last night, but I don’t eat any of that. Go shopping. I don’t think either of you have clothes, so buy clothes, too.”

“What– Bucky, I can afford groceries and clothes,” you said, shoving the card back in his hands. “You’re already letting the two of us stay in your New York penthouse for free. You won’t let me help pay the rent here while we stay.”

Bucky pushed the card back into your hands, “Then help me cook dinner while you’re here. I’m living off take out and shitty convenience store food, and I’m sick of it. Is that a fair trade?”

“You don’t even know if my cooking is good,” you said wearily.

“Rebecca’s been alive for eight years, so that counts for something,” he said with a small shrug. “I’ll be back later tonight.” 

“Is there anything you want then? Anything you prefer? Any allergies?” you asked, looking back up at his face. He was already looking at you. Your breath caught slightly in your throat.

“I can eat anything,” he told you, giving you a small smile. “You have my phone number– if you need anything, just call me. I’ll come back right away.”

“I’m sure the two of us will be fine for a day, Bucky,” you said, returning his smile. “Have a good day at… work?”

Bucky laughed at your words– the fact that you weren’t certain at what to call his job. He nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see you two later tonight.”

“Don’t be late. I’ll have dinner waiting,” you told him, your smile widening just a bit more at the sound of his laughter.

Bucky left you with Rebecca in his apartment. Vaguely, you wonder if he’s being a little too trusting of allowing a random adult woman in his home along with a child, but then again– he had your phone number within moments of meeting said child. The scary realization that he had the rest of your information at the tip of his fingertips made a shiver run down your spine. You were happy that Rebecca’s last living relative was an ex-Congressman-unretired-superhero.

Rebecca refused to go shopping with you, so you went by yourself. She cried that you would try to take her back home if she stepped outside the apartment with you. You relented. You didn’t need another meltdown.

You went for clothes first, and you didn’t use Bucky’s card for that. Part of you felt mildly offended that he even offered. You were certain that he knew your job, and he could definitely look into the amount of money you made if he really wanted to. Another part of you told yourself to just let it go. He was trying to be nice even though he really didn’t have to be.

You bought enough clothes for you and Rebecca to last for two weeks. You remembered seeing a washer and dryer in Bucky’s apartment– so you would be able to wash clothes when you needed to. 

However, Rebecca was a fucking brat and she liked variety in her outfits. That was your fault. You always made sure her closet was stocked and full of different things because you never had that as a child. Yet, here you were– enabling her once again. 

You grocery shopped for the two of you– enough for the week and then some. If you needed to get more, then you would come back out. You were hoping that you would be able to settle whatever you needed to with her child brain within the week, and move on with your life. A nagging feeling made you realize that it was highly unlikely.

You used Bucky’s card for the groceries. You were more than certain that he would have said something if he didn’t see the charge on his card and saw the amount of things you bought today. You got all of Rebecca’s regular staples of foods and snacks, along with some more healthy things. You weren’t sure what a superhero ate, but you would be damned if you fed some overly processed foods to someone that was meant to be saving the world.

Then again, he did mention that he was living off of shitty food. 

It takes you four trips to bring up several bags of clothes and groceries up to Bucky’s apartment from the parking garage. You’re thankful that Bucky lives in a very nice place in Manhattan– you've heard horror stories of New Yorkers living in places with only stairs with no central air conditioning in the hallways.

Rebecca is playing away at her tablet when you finally bring everything inside. 

“Alright,” you said, catching her attention. “I know you hate me, but you’re going to help me organize everything. Get up.”

To your surprise, she does. She puts her tablet down and trudges over to you, opening the first bag of groceries as you open the fridge. You’re shocked to find the thing damn near empty, save for a Brita filter, a case of beer, and a plum. A singular plum.

Bucky was a single man, you realized. 

“Hey,” Rebecca said from beside you.

“I told you not to address me like that,” you replied, turning towards the bag of frozen items. You got her ice cream sandwiches, and you were more than certain they would melt soon if you didn’t shove them in the freezer.

“I don’t hate you,” she murmured, her voice quiet. 

Your hands paused, and you let out a deep breath. You turned around to look at her. She was sheepish, looking down at the floor. She had a box of pasta in her tiny hands. 

“But you don’t want to go home with me?” you guessed. Rebecca nodded. “That’s fine for now, Becks. But let’s put everything away, and then we can figure out what we wanna make for dinner for your… grandpa?”

“He told me not to call him that,” Rebecca said, brightening up immediately.

“What are you gonna call him then?” you asked, chuckling at her. She really did have mood swings.

“He said to just call him Bucky for now,” she replied, smiling as she pulled out lettuce from the bag. “Can you make pizza tonight?”

After putting the groceries away, you pulled out all the toiletries you bought as well and set them up in the bathroom. Toothbrushes for both you and Rebecca, as well as some mouthwash and toothpaste. You got other shower essentials as well, putting them on the rack– and you let out a breath of relief to find that Bucky wasn’t a 3-in-1 kinda single man living in New York.

You cursed to yourself when you realized you had none of your regular makeup or essentials of your own. You forgot to buy deodorant, too.

After putting your new clothes in the washer, you set Rebecca up in the living room with a movie and pulled your phone out. You were going to online shop for absolutely everything else that you could possibly need.

A laptop, makeup to look presentable because you were certain that you would be called for an online meeting at some point, deodorant, perfume, and chargers for your phone and Rebecca’s tablet. Thankfully, everything would be coming in to Bucky’s address by the morning. 

With some free time, you even searched up Bucky. You wanted to know about what he did in the government. You recognized his face from brief headlines, but you never really knew what kinds of bills he passed or supported. Maybe you could use heinous actions to your advantage and get Rebecca to go home with you.

His status as an ex-Congressman and a member of the New Avengers were all over the news.  You read how he served in the second world war, and the valiant efforts that he made with Captain America. You briefly recalled that lesson in your history class. You skimmed through that section, pausing at the controversies of the Winter Soldier.

You could only read so much before you got angry.

There wasn’t much online about the details that he performed when he was under the jurisdiction of that crazy group that controlled him, but from what you could gather– Bucky wasn’t Bucky. The fact people were still using that to discredit all the good he was doing in the world was pissing you off.

You sighed deeply, looking over at Rebecca, feeling guilt build up in your stomach. Here you were, thinking that you would find dirt on a Congressman as a reason to tell Rebecca that her only living relative was a bad man. 

He was literally the opposite of a bad man. A misunderstood man, maybe– but not a bad one.

By the time you finished laundry, it was already six. You weren’t sure what time Bucky was coming home, but you would start making dinner now. You sent Rebecca off to go take a shower since she hadn’t showered all day and she was starting to stink from her long bus adventure while you went into the freshly stocked kitchen.

Rebecca asked for pizza, so you would make pizza. Bucky said he didn’t have any allergies, so you would just make it as you usually did. You usually only made one pizza for you and your kid to share, but you decided to double the batch. Bucky could probably eat an entire pizza by himself and still be hungry for more, you think. 

As you mixed the dough and spread it out on the counter, your mind wandered. You didn’t pay too much attention to the man that owned this place, but Bucky was tall. If you had to estimate, he was over six feet tall. Moreover, he was a muscular man. He looks to be a very well built– strong, sturdy man.  You struggle these days to pick up Rebecca in your arms, but he picked her up like she was nothing. She probably weighed nothing to him. She looked tiny in his arms.

He could probably pick you up like nothing, if he really wanted to. He looked more than capable of it. Plus, he had a decent amount of money to just be giving you a black card and telling you to spend it on clothes and groceries. Handsome, too. Spoke to you kindly and gently. 

“Fuck,” you curse, eyes widening at the mess in front of you. You poured too much sauce on the dough. You immediately shift to rectify the situation at hand, and you’re lucky that you didn’t ruin the pizza. 

You need to stop thinking.

He’s Rebecca’s great granduncle. A 110 years old. 

“Doesn’t look a 110 though,” you mutter to yourself as you shove the pizzas into the oven.

“You’re going home again tonight?” Yelena asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I pay for my place. Am I supposed to keep it vacant? There’s no point in having an apartment if I never spend time there,” Bucky grunted, removing his tactical vest from his body. 

“Aren’t you the guy that’s all about efficiency? What’s so efficient about having an apartment when you already have a room at the tower?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

Bucky let out a deep sigh. He knew that she was right, and that she was just throwing words that he said right back in his face. However, once they started this New Avengers bullshit, he couldn’t bring it in himself to get rid of the apartment that he got when he was just a Congressman. 

When missions got too hard, or the team were a bunch of pricks, there was somewhere that he could retreat to that didn’t include them. It was his own personal sanctuary of peace and quiet. None of them knew where his apartment was located, and he made sure to keep it that way. He didn’t need anyone or anything to encroach on his personal space. 

Right now, he wasn’t searching for peace or quiet. You asked him to be home on time for dinner. He didn’t know what time dinner started for you and Rebecca– he forgot to fucking ask, and it was nearing eight. Even if the food was cold, he would eat it. Either way, he promised that he would be home for dinner. He knew you bought groceries, too. He saw the charge on his card go through. 

“We don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow,” Bucky finally said. “I am going to sleep in a room where Ava can’t ghost through whenever she feels like.”

“Woah– so our leader is just running off to let us deal with that?!” Walker complained, removing his helmet.

“If you hate it so much, then you get your own place, too,” Bucky sighed.

“With what money, Congressman?” Yelena rolled her eyes at him.

“Fontaine pays each of us a decent salary for these bullshit missions and to attend those stupid galas, if you forget. Stop wasting your stipends on stupid gadgets, and maybe put it towards a down payment,” Bucky deadpanned. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she murmured. 

They all filtered out of the locker rooms. They had all unloaded their gear and weapons, and were off to go do whatever they wanted to now that they were free from the mission.

Bucky made a quick pit stop towards his room to shower and change out of the under layer of his mission clothes– into something more harmless. Something that wouldn’t freak out Rebecca when she saw him. He took extra time in looking at himself in the mirror to make sure that there weren’t any visible cuts and scrapes on his face and arms that you would be able to notice. He scrubbed extra hard between the grooves of his metal arm to ensure there was no blood between the gears that either you or Rebecca would be able to smell when he crossed the threshold of his apartment.

He didn’t realize that he was doing all of that until he was done.

“Barnes. Wanna eat before you leave? Bob made food,” Yelena called out to him as he left his room.

“Not hungry,” he grunted, heading for the elevator with his keys in hand.

He ignored the looks from his teammates as he went straight for the elevator, hitting the button to go down to the garage. Bucky moved faster than he did when he was on the mission. He got on his bike, and raced down the street to get home. 

He could smell the food from the hallway before he even opened the door. 

Usually, when he opened his apartment up– it was dark. The lights were turned off, and it was cold. There wasn’t anything or anyone to greet him. Today was different.

The kitchen lights were on, along with the living room floor lamp. The TV was on to some cartoon that he had never seen before, playing softly in the background. He could hear the faint sound of the washer and dryer being used as well. Then, he heard the sounds of little feet scurrying across the floor followed by voices.

It sounded like he had just entered a home.

He was quiet as he moved down the hallway entrance.

“Careful, Becky. Don’t want you to get burned,” you warned her, and the little girl took two steps back as cautioned. She was wearing pajamas now, her hair no longer in the braids that he remembered seeing when he left this morning. They were fluffy and curly. 

“The smaller pizza is ours?” she asked you as you shifted to put the pizza on the cooling rack.

“Mmhm. The bigger one is for Bucky. If he can’t finish it, he can take it to work tomorrow for lunch,” you told her. “I think I saw some tupperware in a cabinet somewhere… If not, then I can just wrap it in foil for him.”

“Do superheroes eat lunch?” she asked, making a face at you.

“Everyone eats lunch, silly,” you scoffed, shaking your head as you close the oven. “Even my boss.”

“I thought you said she’s a villain,” she giggled as you ruffled her hair with your free hand.

“Well. She kinda is,” you shrugged, turning towards the sink to put the baking sheet in cool water. “But I have to feed the villain, so it’s a nice change to feed a superhero instead. Grab some plates from the dishwasher. They’re clean– set up the table, please.”

Rebecca moved right away, doing as you asked her to. She pulled out three plates carefully from the dishwasher, bringing them to the table as you grabbed the cooling rack with the pizzas to bring over as well. 

“Do you think Bucky likes pizza?” Rebecca asked you, climbing onto one of the seats as she waited for you to serve her some food.

“He was born and raised in New York. I think it’s criminal if he doesn’t,” you replied.

Bucky let out a soft laugh at your answer before shaking his head. He straightens his back and rounds his shoulders before entering the room.

“I’m back,” he called out, dropping his keys on the island counter. Both you and Rebecca perk up at his announcement, turning to look at him.

“Welcome home,” you greeted, a warm smile on your face. 

Bucky has gone through several wars in his life. He has been through countless life threatening missions and never batted an eye. He has been through hell and back. Had his mind wiped and thrown through a blender. He fought his best friend with his own two fists, fought by his best friend’s side at what seemed to be the end of the world, and was then snapped out of existence for five years and he didn’t even know it. Yet, two words and a smile is all that takes for his heart to race.

The man cleared his throat, and forced a smile on his face, giving you a nod.

“Are you hungry? Mo– Auntie made dinner!” Rebecca said, tripping over her words. Your face faltered slightly, but Rebecca didn’t catch it. Bucky did. 

“Starved. Smells great,” Bucky replied, coming closer. He took a seat at the table across from you, looking at the pizzas. 

Definitely handmade– but he was certain that he had never seen food look better in his entire life. When he took the first bite, he was sure that he had never had real food in his entire life until this point, too.

“Is it okay?” you asked him, looking a bit worried.

“It’s amazing,” he told you. “Honestly. You’re great.”

“It’s my favorite,” Rebecca piped up from her seat. She had already polished off two small slices herself, and had some tomato sauce on the edges of her mouth. Bucky watched as you reached over with a napkin to wordlessly wipe her face before she kept talking. “She works a lot these days, but she’s the best cook ever. I told her that she should’ve been a chef!”

You let out a small laugh at her words, shaking your head. “My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger,” you tell Bucky. “Just home recipes. I learned some more stuff on my own when I got older.”

“Can you teach me how to cook, too?” Rebecca asked you, excited.

“Sure. If you come home with me,” you replied, taking a bite of your own slice. Bucky watched as Rebecca paused, then sunk in her seat, grumbling to herself– she was clearly torn. 

Dinner was completed without any other incident. Both you and Rebecca finished your pizza together, and Bucky finished his pizza by himself. He definitely could have saved some for tomorrow, but he couldn’t help himself. It was nice to come home to a meal, and share it with other people. 

It wasn’t to say that his teammates and himself didn’t have meals together, either. It was the fact that neither you or Rebecca were part of that life. The two of you were normal. You were untouched by danger, and your biggest issue was trying to get your kid back home to Newport. 

Once Rebecca excused herself from the table, you began to pick up all the plates when Bucky stopped you.

“I got it,” he said, pulling the plates from your hands.

“What? You paid for the ingredients, Bucky. You’re making me feel bad here. I don’t think this is a fair living situation,” you frowned at him. Bucky won’t admit it out loud, but he thinks you look adorable like this.

He thought you were cute this morning, too. Truthfully, he thought you were a very beautiful woman when he first saw you. You came in, pushed him to the side with strength that he didn’t know a regular civilian woman could have, and stormed into his apartment with a pantsuit and a thin trench coat and heels. You looked like you had just gotten off a business meeting. 

Right now, you were no longer wearing the heels so you were missing the height he saw earlier before he left for his mission today, but you were still wearing the blouse from earlier. It was untucked now, a couple buttons undone at the top for comfort, and the sleeves were cuffed at your elbows. Your hair was tied back, possibly to keep out of your way while you were cooking.

“You cook, I clean up the mess,” he told you, gently pushing your hands away. “Besides, weren’t you grocery shopping before all of this? Running errands? You’ve been doing laundry, too. You’ve been busy all day, so go relax or something. Take a shower.”

“I’m a grown woman raising a child on my own,” you remind him. “This is my normal.”

“And right now, I’m here. So don’t worry about it. She’s watching… What the hell is that?” Bucky asked, eyes on the TV. 

“You’ve never watched Avatar before?” you asked, eyebrows raising at him. You didn’t even look back at the TV. You didn’t even need to look at it to know what Rebecca was watching. “It’s a classic.”

“You watch cartoons?”

“That cartoon aired when I was a kid, okay?”

“The cartoon that aired when I was a kid was Mickey Mouse’s Steamboat Willie,” Bucky shot back at you. “And it was played in the theatre, not in 4K HD.”

“Do all old men have this much sass in their bodies?” you ask, disbelief all over your face. “How do you find the energy to be like this?”

Bucky can’t help but crack a smile. “When you get as old as I am, you find it difficult to hold your tongue. Now go do whatever. I’ll clean up here.”

When you get out of the shower, you’re feeling refreshed. You’re more than ready to knock the hell out and sleep for four days, but you know that isn’t a possibility. If you think back on it, you haven’t slept in over thirty six hours– the thought makes you want to cry.

You hang your towel up beside Rebecca’s before exiting the bathroom. You find that the TV is off already, and you hear the hum of the dishwasher going off. The kitchen lights are off, and only the floor lamp is on now. You’re searching for the little girl, eyes scanning the living room.

“I put her to bed in my room,” Bucky said, catching your attention. He’s sitting at the table– also changed into more comfortable clothes. Sweatpants and a tank top. He also has some documents laid out on the table, along with his laptop. “You and her can take the bed while you’re here.”

“What?” You’re more than certain that you sound like a broken recording at this point. 

“I’ll take the couch,” he said, nodding towards it.

You’re still in shock before you cross the floorspace, pulling out the chair to sit beside him. He watches you for a few moments, allowing you to let your mind catch up before you speak.

“I don’t understand why you’re going this far for us. We are strangers to you. You should have kicked both me and Rebecca to the curb the second I came for her,” you said, meeting his eyes. “Is it because you’re related to her?”

“I can’t deny that it’s part of the reason,” he said, letting out a breath as he ran a hand down his face. “She just… she looks like my sister. My little sister. And I don’t know how much you know about the history of me, but I lost everyone and everything I cared about in an instant. It might make zero sense to you, but it’s nice. Coming home and there’s people waiting.”

“Is that the other part of the reason? You’re lonely?” you asked, eyebrows furrowing at him. 

Bucky let out a small laugh before nodding. “Yes. I’m lonely. And as long as Rebecca wants to throw her tantrum and say that she wants to stay here, then that’s fine with me as long as you’re fine with it. I’ll let you do a background check on me, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“You’ll let me do a background check on a superhero?” Your mind wandered back on the articles that you read on him. He would let you see the dirt on him that the tabloids didn’t even have?

“You’re her mom,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “I know you would do anything for her. My status in this world does not compare to what she is to you.” 

You stare at him for a few moments before sighing, placing your elbows on the table, burying your face in your hands. “I need a drink,” you muttered.

“Beer?” he offered, standing. You nod wordlessly as he goes to the fridge. 

He cracks open the can before setting it down in front of you, and you lean back in your seat, murmuring a soft thank you before you take your first drink. Your eyes wander over the various files over the table and frown.

“Should you really have classified information scattered about where two civilians can see it?” you joke softly.

Bucky shrugs, and takes a drink himself. “Are you going to spill secret information anywhere?”

“No, but I think you should be worried about the little girl that tracked you down to your apartment and still won’t tell either of us how she did it,” you pointed out.

“She’s asleep, so I think I’m safe for now,” he chuckled. You smile at that, shaking your head as you take another drink. Bucky watches you for a few moments before he speaks again, “Has it always just been you and her?”

“Since her mom passed? Yeah. Just the two of us. Our neighbor– Mrs. Mendoza– helps out on nights when I work late. Otherwise it’s just me and her,” you nodded, taking a deep breath as you say it out loud. 

“Isn’t that hard?” he asked.

“I’m sure it’s not more difficult than keeping the world safe every other week,” you smiled at him. 

“You’re keeping her world safe. That has to count for something, too,” he dismissed. 

“Well… It’s easier now that she’s older. Though this phase she’s in definitely sucks,” you admitted before smiling at the flashback of memories of her as a small baby in your arms. “But I’ve had my moments of crying in the bathroom when she was a toddler because I was overwhelmed and alone.” 

“No one special to keep you company though?” he asked. 

You paused mid-drink, eyes flickering over to him. You raised your eyebrows, watching him for a moment. His face was calm as he took a sip of his own can, waiting for your response. Usually, you would have skimmed right over the question, but there was a certain tilt in his voice that made you stop and weigh his words over in your mind.

“Are you hitting on me right now?” you asked before you could stop yourself. 

“Depends. Do you think I am?”

“There’s a strong suggestion that you are.”

“I’m asking if Rebecca has a strong father figure in her life.”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile behind the can. “You think she would have ran off to find you if she had a strong father figure?”

“You tell me,” Bucky said with a shrug, nonchalant. He can’t seem to hide the smile on his face either.

You shake your head, placing the can on the table. You move over the papers so that the condensation doesn’t ruin his files as you take in a breath.

“I don’t have time to date,” you revealed to him. “Becky is my top priority. And most guys don’t want to date someone that has a young kid. They see it as baggage. She comes before anything in my life. I closed the chapter of romance when I adopted her. I don’t remember the last time I went on a date, if I’m being honest.”

“You’re still young,” he said. “At some point, Rebecca will be old enough. She won’t be a kid forever.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, looking down at the can. Your smile turns slightly sad, somewhat melancholic before you meet his eyes again. “But she’s still a kid right now. And as much as I would like to have somebody special in my life like that… I don’t have the ability to be selfish when she relies on me. It’s not just my heart that the other person will break if they decide to walk away from me, you know?”

“I get it. Kinda.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Kinda?”

“With my job,” he explained. “It’s selfish. Sometimes, I’m away for weeks at a time, and I would be radio silent for the entire time. It would be hard on them, not knowing if I was okay. So, in a way.. I get it.”

“Is that why this apartment reeks of bachelor in New York?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“Is it really that bad?” he chuckled.

“Bucky. Your fridge was empty. Your bathroom is barely stocked. You don't even have decorations in here,” you pointed out at him, watching him hold his hands up in defense.

“You still have my card. Go ahead and decorate the place to your liking.”

“Pardon?”

“You work as a personal assistant, right? Let me use your skills. Make my place look more homey. That way, when you’re gone, it still feels warm,” he said, giving you a small smile.

His words made your chest squeeze. When you’re gone. 

You’ve barely known the man for over twenty four hours, but it still made you feel sad in a way that you can’t explain. Maybe it was the fact he already admitted to you that he was lonely– that he enjoyed coming home to people in his house. That he liked seeing Rebecca’s face because it reminded him of the sister that he was ripped apart from when he was taken as a prisoner of war all those years ago. Maybe it was because in this moment, he didn’t look like a superhero or a congressman like in those pictures of the articles you read. He looked like a man. Just a tired man, who wanted to rest. 

“You really don’t mind it if we stay for a bit?” you asked, worry lacing your voice. “What if I turn out to be a serial killer or something?”

Bucky barked out a laugh that made your stomach flip. “Then guard my house while I’m gone, sweetheart. Consider it your work for me allowing you to stay here for free.”

Over the two weeks, your routine with Bucky continued.

You and Rebecca would wake up early to make Bucky lunch before he went off for work. You woke up at five the first day, unsure of what time he would leave– thankful it was the time he woke up himself to get in the shower. The two of you rushed to make him something. Each day was something different, and it would also be your lunch for the day as well. 

The first day, he was surprised when Rebecca handed him the bag at the door.

“Bring home the container so we can run it through the dishwasher tonight. And come home for dinner. I’ll make salmon, if you like that?” you asked him with a smile. 

Bucky’s eyes flitted over to you and Rebecca, who was about to fall over from sleepiness, still holding out the tupperware of food to him. 

“Love it,” he responded, snapping out of whatever haze he seemed to be in, taking the bag from your kid. He let out a shaky breath, and ruffled her hair. “Thank you for this. Bye–”

“It’s not bye!” Rebecca cut him off, angry. “It’s see you later! Bye is too final. Mo– Auntie said so. You have to say see you later.”

You stifled a laugh at Bucky’s face. His mouth was agape, eyes wide as he was scolded by an eight year old with tangled hair and morning breath. She was also dead serious with her words, hands on her hips. 

“See you later, Becks,” he corrected himself. She smiled, satisfied.

“See you later, Bucky!” she grinned at him.

“Have a good day at work,” you told him when his eyes went over to you, still smiling. “I’ll start decorating your place today.”

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Yes– thank you. I’ll see you later tonight.”

Over the week, you ordered decoration and different furniture for Bucky’s apartment (using his card), and Rebecca helped you build everything throughout the day as packages began to arrive. In between all of it, you worked remotely as your boss had you troubleshoot items that your incompetent coworkers couldn’t seem to figure out on their own. You were damn near about to lose your mind. After all, you were on emergency PTO. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with any of this right now.

Though, it was still less work than if you were in the office on a regular day. 

All in the meantime, you were still doing your best to reconnect with Rebecca. She seemed to be warming up with you little by little again. The small child that you knew was still in there. You could see that everything she was doing was definitely a front– that there was something here that you were so close to cracking what was in her tiny little mind. 

Bucky would come home every night around eight. You would have dinner ready for him around that time as well. Sometimes, he would come home with a new bruise on his face or a cut on his lip. You told Rebecca that if she saw it, not to mention it. That he was a hero fighting bad guys, and home was a place for him to rest. She understood, and was a good girl. She allowed him the peace within these walls. Bucky seemed to appreciate it.

You would watch Bucky interact with Rebecca, too. He began to wipe her mouth when sauce or crumbs would find its way on the edges of her mouth, and she would let her. If she wanted more food, he would move before you would to give her some. When her glass of juice ran low, he would stand from the table to fill it up– but not before adding some water to it like he saw you did once before. 

After dinner, Bucky would do the dishes while you went to shower, and he would put her to bed. When you got out of the shower, he would be doing paperwork at the kitchen table that he couldn’t do at his office or whatever building that he worked at, and you two would drink a can of beer or two together while you talked. 

He would tell you about his day, and you would tell him about the copious amounts of money that you just spent on his card. He would laugh, and shake his head, but he would never get mad at you. Of course, the numbers were always exaggerated. You just wanted to see him laugh. 

Bucky’s smile was pretty. His laughter was genuine, and you enjoyed watching the way that his whole body rumbled when he laughed. The sound was low, and reverberated throughout your body when the noise hit you. You enjoyed listening to it.

“Is this your first time in New York?” Bucky asked you one night. 

This time was different. You weren’t at the table. There wasn’t any paperwork. You two were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, the TV turned on to some random movie that neither of you were watching. He had his right arm draped over the back of the couch, legs spread a bit wide as he relaxed comfortably against the back of the couch. Your back was pressed against the armrest of the other end, your feet barely brushing his thigh, your left arm on the back of the couch with your fist propping up your head as you looked at him.

“Is it obvious?” you asked, making a face.

“You sound like you’re from California.”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I hear that all the time. Valley accent? I thought I got rid of it by now. I’ve been living on the East Coast since before Becky was born.”

“Why’d you move all the way out here?” he chuckled, taking a drink.

“It’s kinda a shit story. I haven’t even told Becky. You sure you wanna hear it?” you asked, cringing a little. 

“I’ve been through hell. I’m sure I can handle it,” he promised. 

You were silent for a few moments, trying to figure out where to start this story. After all– you’ve never said it out loud before. You figured the very first person you would ever tell it to was Rebecca. You sucked in a breath.

“Becky’s dad was a drunk… who used to beat Tabitha,” you finally start. You watched as Bucky sits up a bit straighter. He turns the TV off, and shifts to face you completely. His attention is on you, fully. “I knew, and I told her to leave him– but she would tell me she loved him, and it was hard for her to leave him. I… still don’t get it, but I’ve never been in one of those situations. Anyway– she’s my friend, so I stayed beside her regardless. 

“Then, she got pregnant, and she had a wake up call. She realized that… she didn’t want any baby of hers to be beaten the same way that she was being beaten so we finally went to the police. Unfortunately, his dad is a cop. So, they didn’t do anything… and her asshole boyfriend threatened to kill both her and her unborn baby.

“We were both twenty one years old, in our last year of college. She had no job, I was working at a mall in LA, and we had absolutely zero assets, but I suggested to her that we run to the other side of the country and start over. So we did. I transferred to a university over here to finish school. She dropped out to work full time while she still could and saved every single penny. I worked when I didn’t have school to help save money, then got a job as soon as I graduated to help out Tabitha with Rebecca. I would work during the day, and she would take care of Rebecca, then she would work night shifts. Then, Tabitha… passed away in a car accident on her way home one early morning.”

Bucky didn’t say anything when you finished. You looked down at your lap, feeling a bit nervous as you chewed the inside of your cheek. 

“That answered a bit more than what you asked, but uh– I was born and raised in California,” you added with a nervous laugh, clearing your throat. “Went to UCLA and everything.”

“Is that bastard still alive?” Bucky asked you, gritting his teeth.

“Rebecca’s dad? I have no clue,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t have social media anymore. Tabitha and I went completely off grid when we ran so that we couldn’t be found. No Facebook or anything like that. He shouldn’t even be able to find Rebecca– she has Tabitha’s maiden name, not his last name.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, letting out a deep breath through his nostrils before nodding once. He closed his eyes tight, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus. That’s really– I’m sorry,” he whispered your name. “That’s horrible.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered back. “Becky’s a blessing, even though there were so many things that went wrong before I managed to have her in my life.”

He stared at you for a few moments, eyes roaming your face. You didn’t cry over this story anymore. You had cried over it by yourself many years ago. You came to terms with it a long, long time ago. You were certain the next and last time you would cry is when you would tell Rebecca– and you would only cry if she ended up crying, too.

“It must have been lonely,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Your lips parted as you struggled to find the words to respond to him. You wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell him that it wasn’t lonely because Rebecca was there by your side, but you knew that wasn’t the truth. You were still lonely– there was a void that Rebecca couldn’t fill, just like there was a hole that she was trying to fill by running away from you. Instead, you nodded, and gave him a sad smile. 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I’m pretty damn lonely.”

“Cheers to that?” he offered, holding his can out to you. You chuckled, hitting the edge of your can against his. 

“Cheers.”

You both took a long drink. 

“Admittedly, I am not as lonely with the two of you around though,” he said, looking around his apartment. “My house looks… lived in.”

“That’s another word for messy, Bucky,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

You note the coffee table with drawings made by Rebecca. She drew Bucky and his metal arm. She drew another portrait of him flexing. There were some drawings of flowers. That wasn’t even all of the drawings– Rebecca taped a good amount of her art to the wall. You apologized to Bucky when he came home and saw them, but he told you to leave them there. He liked seeing them haphazardly taped up, even though they weren’t leveled properly. 

You also take in the stray lego blocks that are on the floor near the hall. Bucky brought them home on the fifth night, saying that he went to the store and bought them since he didn’t want her to be completely bored in his house. She did play with them, but didn’t even finish it before she got side tracked by her tablet. 

He also bought her some board games that you played with her while Bucky was gone at work– that you also didn’t manage to clean up while he was away. The games were unfinished, and Rebecca refused to let you tidy up the area until she won. 

“I like it though,” he said, giving you a smile that was contagious. 

“So you’ll miss her when she’s gone?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

“I’m saying that I might need to take a trip to Newport every once in a while. Or maybe convince you to come visit me here so I can see my great grandniece.” 

“Because you’ll miss her,” you repeated, chuckling to yourself.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll miss both of you. Not just her. It’s not just Rebecca that I look forward to seeing every night when I come home.”

You stare at him for a few moments before bringing the can of beer to your lips, taking a drink to busy yourself with something. You’re hoping the liquid will be able to cool down the burning in your cheeks, but it’s unlikely that it’s doing anything for you.

“We can come back for holidays,” you said after a few moments, unable to meet his eyes. “And you’re welcome to visit us whenever. I… also enjoy greeting you when you come home, too. And talking to you every night. It’s nice.”

Bucky let out a breath of what sounded like relief. Your eyes shifted over to him once more, finding that he was smiling again. “I’m glad we’re in agreement, sweetheart.”

If you weren’t blushing before, you know that you are now.

It’s on the third week when you finish your shower earlier than usual to find that Bucky isn’t at the kitchen table like he normally is. Instead, you find that he’s in the bedroom with Rebecca. The door is slightly open, and you can see him sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, stroking her hair as she lays there, tucked in and ready to sleep. 

“You’re fighting bedtime a lot longer tonight, Becks,” he whispered to her, stroking her hair slowly.

“I’m not tired,” she grumbles, but you can hear the sleepiness lacing her words. Bucky must be able to as well, from the way he chuckles.

“Sure, kiddo. What did you do today?”

“Nothing interesting.. Momma took me to Central Park today. We walked around. Never been there before,” she told him.

“And that’s not interesting?” he asked softly. 

Rebecca shrugged slightly. “It’s hot outside. We got ice cream. I saw you in the newspaper. What did you do today?”

“Just boring stuff,” he said with a sigh, still lulling her to sleep with gentle strokes to her head. 

“Can you tell me about your superhero friends again?” she asked with a yawn.

“Which one?”

“Your favorite one.”

“I think your mom is my favorite superhero, Rebecca,” Bucky whispered to her.

“My Momma isn’t a superhero,” she frowned at him.

“Hm… I think she is,” he shrugged. “To me, at least. She wakes up early every day to make lunch for me and you. I’m sure if I stayed, I would be able to eat the breakfast that she makes, too, but I just don’t have time for that. I know you eat it. She doesn’t have to do it. Then, she makes dinner every night as well. She takes care of you, does all the chores without complaining. Don’t you notice that my apartment looks really nice all of a sudden? Your mom decorated it all by herself.”

“Don’t all moms do that?” Rebecca asked.

Bucky smiled sadly at her. “Some of my friends have really bad moms, kiddo. Some of my friends don’t have moms at all. They would have loved to have a mom like you do. So it really breaks my heart to see you treat her the way you do when all she does is love you.”

Rebecca was quiet for a few moments before she turned on her side. “I don’t hate her,” she muttered into the pillow. “I really love her.”

“I know you do. She knows that, too,” Bucky promised her, patting her back rhythmically. 

“Is she really a superhero?” she asked, peeking out of the pillow to look at him.

“Sure she is. She can be a superhero to me and you,” he told her, and she gave him a small nod. “However, a superhero needs somebody to protect– which is you. So you need to go to bed.”

“Okay,” she sighed dramatically, closing her eyes. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Good night, Rebecca,” he chuckled, rubbing her back gently. 

You step away from the door slowly, making your way to the kitchen. The dishwasher is already going, the table has already been wiped down. You decide to beat Bucky by a step and take out the beers from the fridge and put them on the table and wait for him there. 

He doesn’t keep you sitting there for too long, as you hear the door to the bedroom shut a few moments later. 

“You showered fast today,” Bucky said, opening your can before picking up his own.

“Happens every once in a while,” you shrugged as you watched him grab his backpack to pull out his files and laptop to start working. You watch in silence for a few moments, drinking as you do before a question comes to mind. “Are your teammates so loud that you can’t do your reports in the tower?”

“I can,” he said. “You get used to it. I just come home every night now, so I spend less time in the tower. Have to make up for it by doing the reports here.”

“Wait– you didn’t come home every night before?” you asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “There was no reason for me to come here all the time. No one to come home to.”

“So you lived and worked in the same place that you call your base?” 

“Pretty much. I just used this place as a space to… unwind, I guess. When things got too hectic,” he said, shrugging a bit. “This is the first time that I’ve consistently come home since I started the Avengers job.”

“Oh,” you said, and you feel a little dumb. You feel a little sad, too. You stare at him, but he’s looking at his computer. He’s typing away at things that you don’t understand. “But your team… You get along with them?”

His hands stop over his keyboard. There is a small, teasing smile on his face.

“Are you worried about me?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, locking eyes with him. It makes the smile falter on his lips. “You said you were lonely. Your lives are in their hands right? Do you not trust them?”

Bucky pauses, running his metal hand through his hair– you learned last week that the metal was called vibranium. He contemplates your words for a few moments before nodding.

“I trust them,” he said, his voice steady. “I trust them to do the job, and to do it right. Do I trust them emotionally? That is a different level that I am not sure I will be able to reach with them. The team is still fairly new, and I’m still learning different parts of them that they’re hiding from me, too. I’m their leader. I can’t just… be vulnerable straight off the bat, you know?”

“Do you have any friends?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I did,” he said, looking back at his keyboard. “He’s kinda suing me right now for the rights to the name of the Avengers, so there’s a bit of a rift between us.”

“The new Captain America– Sam Wilson?” You recalled the name from an article you read when you searched up Bucky on the first day you were here.

“Yeah. That guy. We’re not really on speaking terms right now,” Bucky sighed deeply. “After the previous Captain America passed on the mantle… Sam’s pretty much the only friend I have left.”

“You have me,” you offered. 

His eyes went back to you, a small smile finding its way to his face.

“And you,” he added, nodding. “Thank you. You have me, too.”

“You’ll have to put your world saving on pause during Christmas,” you said, smiling back. “Rebecca will be heartbroken if you don’t come over to celebrate with us.”

Bucky let out a laugh. “I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

You’re about to make another joke, something else to make him laugh so you can hear the sound that makes your heart soar through the roof when you hear your phone start buzzing on the couch. It’s already past eleven– you shouldn’t have anyone calling you. You and Bucky share a look before you go towards it, picking it up.

To your utter horror, the familiar caller ID of your boss is staring at you. Part of you wants to let it go to voicemail, but you know that her next plan of action is to just start spam texting you through the entire night until you answer her.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, seeing the look on your face.

“Yeah. Just my boss,” you sigh. “Sorry. I have to take this.”

Bucky nods at you, and looks back down at his computer as you sit down on the couch and tap on the green button on your screen before bringing the phone to your ear.

“It's so good to hear from you, Sil!” you greet with a fake cheery voice. You can hear Bucky choke on his beer behind you. You turn around, glaring at him as he coughs, trying to stifle his laughter. “How can I help you toni-”

“I need your ass back in Newport as soon as possible,” your boss, Silva, demands.

“Um, Sil, I’m still on emergency leave,” you remind her, trying to keep your tone light.

“You think I don’t know that?!” she hissed at you. “Hannah fucked up the presentation for the Morgan Corporation, and Denise somehow messed up both the catering and the hotel venue for the presentation. I need you to get back here and fix this mess otherwise you won’t have a job to get back to!”

“The Morgan presentation? The one that’s happening in two days?” you repeated, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You mean the one that I completed last week and sent back to you– the one that I finished for Hannah remotely?”

“You worry about the details too much,” Silva dismissed. “I need you here now. I’m not giving you an option.”

The line hung up, and you stared at your phone. Thousands of thoughts are racing through your mind as your cortisol levels are increasing. Then, you stood up.

“I have to go back to Newport,” you said, turning around to look at Bucky. “Can I ask you to look after Rebecca for like, two days? I’ll be back, I promise, right after the presentation is over. She’s self sufficient. She knows how to use a microwave and the toaster, I just need you to come back home after work to make sure she’s not dead or choking on anything–”

“Hey, hey. Slow down,” Bucky cut you off, voice soft and soothing. You didn’t even realize you were rambling. Bucky stood quickly, crossing over to you to place his hands on your shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to lose my job and my only source of income that supports me and Rebecca if I don’t go home to do this fucked up presentation,” you whispered, heart pounding in your ears as you look at him. “My coworkers are incompetent and my boss fucking sucks. I’m so sorry Bucky, I know your job is so much more demanding than mine is and I would try dragging her with me, but I’m scared she’s gonna make a scene again–”

Bucky cuts you off once more by saying your name so gently your breath catches in your throat. 

“Don’t worry. I can watch an eight year old for a day or two,” he promised. “And I can take a break, too. Are you going to leave right now?”

“I should,” you said, letting out a breath. “Less traffic. And I’ll have to get in the office right away so I can fix whatever dumpster fire is waiting for me.”

“Okay,” he nodded, his hands sliding down your arms. “Go get ready. I’ll make you some food to bring with you on the road so you have something to snack on while you drive.”

“Okay,” you echoed back at him.

The second Bucky lets go of you, you’re immediately rushing to change your clothes and put shoes on.

“Where’s Momma?” Rebecca asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she walked out into the living room.

“She had to go back home. Her boss called her into the office for an emergency presentation,” Bucky answered, flipping the pancakes on the pan. “It’s just gonna be me and you for the next couple of days, if that’s okay with you, kiddo.”

“Oh,” she murmured before clambering onto one of the kitchen island’s bar chairs. “I was just asking… since she always wakes me up to help make you lunch. You’re not working today?”

“Took the day off to hang out with you,” Bucky shook his head, then plated the pancake, right next to the eggs and bacon that he had already cooked earlier. He turned off the stove, then put the plate in front of the little girl. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he nodded at her, picking up his coffee mug. 

The day is fairly quiet, all things considered. Too quiet, actually. Rebecca normally isn’t like this. Bucky knows that he can’t really speak since he’s gone most of the day, but even during the brief moments of time when he sees her before he goes to work and when he eats dinner with her– she’s much more animated.

She picks at her food during lunch, even though it’s chicken nuggets. He doesn’t think that she’s playing with her food, but Bucky watches as she skins the poor nuggets of its crust before she decides to slowly eat them. Bucky even gives her an ice cream sandwich that she looks solemnly at as she eats. 

Rebecca doesn’t even pay attention to the cartoon that he puts on for her. Avatar. He even watches it with her. He hates to admit it, but it is pretty damn entertaining. He’ll have to tell you when you get home that you were right. He asked Rebecca what element she would like to have as a superpower and she just shrugged at him as she picked at her nails.

Bucky tried playing a board game with her. She didn’t argue with him, but she wasn’t paying attention to him or the game. She wasn’t into it or anything at all. There wasn’t any fire in her eyes. 

Rebecca was sad, and he didn’t understand why.

When dinner rolled around, Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. She was poking at her chow mein that he ordered because she mentioned that she wanted noodles ,and he was a shit cook that couldn’t compare to you. He didn’t want to feed Rebecca inedible food.

“Becks,” he said, putting down his chopsticks. “What’s going on?”

His eyes widened when her eyes began to well up with tears. He immediately reached for the napkins on the table– square napkins that were in a napkin holder that you bought for him. In fact, there were even tablemats and coasters on the table that weren’t there before you came into his life.

“I miss my Momma,” she wailed.

Bucky got out of his seat, pulling Rebecca’s chair out of the table so he could properly look at her. He kneeled beside her, wiping her tears as she cried. He held the napkin to her nose as she blew into it, hiccuping and sobbing. 

An idea popped into his head.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Bucky asked. “For your Momma to be gone?”

“No– NO!” she cried loudly, shaking her head. Then, she looked conflicted. “I… I mean… I thought I did…”

“Rebecca. What did you really want?” Bucky asked, taking her little hands in his. 

“My teacher… and my classmates told me that family meant blood. And that my Momma can’t be my family because she’s– she’s not blood. So.. So I came to look for you… And I really… really like you… but I love my Momma more,” Rebecca managed to stammer out between sobs and sniffles, her little body violently shaking between each hiccup.

Bucky let out a small laugh, rubbing her back as he grabbed another napkin off the table to help wipe her tears again.

“I really like you, too, Becks,” he promised. “And I know your mom loves you so much. I’m really glad that you found me. Thank you.”

“Really?” she whispered, looking at him. “I… I wasn’t annoying?”

“'Course not,” he chuckled. “I really enjoyed having you around. I’ll miss you when you’re gone. Both you and your mom. But right now– you wanna go home, don’t you?”

She didn’t hesitate to nod, “Yeah… I wanna go home, Bucky. Can you take me?”

Bucky smiled at her, even though something in his chest broke a little bit. He wiped away the last bit of her tears as he let out a breath.

“Alright, kiddo. Let’s finish dinner. I’ll take you back home.”

Rebecca’s mood instantly skyrocketed from there, as Bucky’s mood plummeted. He did his best to hide it. He put Rebecca to bed, and sat in the living room with his face buried between his hands, shrouded by darkness. 

He tried to go to sleep, but his body wouldn’t let him. Then again, he knew that sleep would only make the inevitable come by faster– that he would be alone so much quicker. Either way, the sun came up, and Rebecca got up early on her own. 

Rebecca showered, got dressed, and packed the Hello Kitty backpack that she came with.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile when he saw her with it. 

He got her situated in his car, then input the address to your house that he pulled from the background check that he did on you almost a full month ago. He found a radio station that played some kid friendly songs that Rebecca seemed to know, the little girl singing along happily to each word. She even teased him for not knowing any of the words. When she got tired and fell asleep, Bucky ended up in his own head.

The three hour drive soon passed by him quickly, and he was pulling into your driveway. Your house was cute. It was one story, with a front and backyard. White picket fence with a mailbox. Your car was parked in the driveway, and you were coming out of the front door. Your eyes fell on Bucky’s car, then on Rebecca, who was already unbuckling herself and throwing herself at you as quickly as she could.

“Momma!” she cried, running to you.

You caught her as she jumped on you, stumbling backwards slightly. Bucky got out of the car, seeing your bewildered look.

“Hi, baby,” you said, holding her head to your chest. “What– what are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” she whined, tears in her eyes. “I want to stay here. With you– I really do love you. I’m sorry!”

You blinked at her, still confused, but hugged her tight to your body. You looked over at Bucky, who gave you a smile and a nod.

“She missed you,” Bucky said. “She asked me to take her home.” 

You let out a breath, still trying to process everything. You stood up, ruffling Rebecca’s hair as you unlocked the front door to let the kid inside. She ran inside as you turned to Bucky, who grabbed her little backpack to deliver to you.

“Thank you,” you said, still a little breathless. 

“Of course,” he chuckled. “How’d your presentation go?”

“I’m actually on my way to it. I’ll have to drop her off at my neighbors– anyway. Um… Come visit for Christmas?”

Bucky stared at you for a little bit longer, taking in your appearance. You were in work attire right now. It was different from how he was used to seeing you in his apartment– he decided he enjoyed the oversized t-shirts and the cotton shorts much more than the pantsuits, but you were still pretty like this, too.

“I’ll text you,” he nodded, giving you a smile.

“Yeah. Text me,” you smiled back. “Stay safe, Bucky.”

“Yeah… Bye,” he said.

You didn’t correct his parting words as he turned around towards his car.

Bucky didn’t let himself linger on your street. He refused to. He didn’t have a place here, as much as his heart wanted him to stay here. You were only in his life for twenty-three days. That’s all it was. He told himself that he was silly for growing attached to you, to Rebecca.

He kept telling himself that as he cleaned up the board game pieces in his apartment, and as he carefully sorted the lego blocks in a way that Rebecca would be able to still be able to build the puzzle she was making according to the directions. 

Bucky continued to tell himself that he would get over the darkness of his apartment as he moved all of your toiletries to the cabinet under his sink where he couldn’t see it. He lied to himself that you didn’t make a lasting impression on his brain as he rolled over on his bed to where you slept– to where he could still smell your perfume on his pillow.

“What the fuck is wrong with you these days?” Yelena demanded as they got off the loading dock. “You look like some kind of abused puppy.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he began to remove his gear. “The fuck are you talking about?” he grunted.

“You don’t go home early anymore. Sometimes you don’t go home period. Did your secret girlfriend break up with you?” John guessed.

Bucky frowned. “I didn’t and don’t have a girlfriend. Who came up with that?” 

“We just made up theories,” Ava said.

“And your theory was that I had a girlfriend?” Bucky sighed.

“You left the tower early, came to work everyday in a good mood, and you brought a home packed lunch everyday,” Yelena deadpanned. “So yeah. Girlfriend.”

“We thought you were getting laid!” Alexei boomed with laughter.

Bucky’s scowl deepened, and he rubbed his fingers over his eyes. He was getting a headache. Bucky was trying and failing at attempting to drown out the boisterous talk around him as his teammates attempt to come up with conspiracies on why he’s been going home earlier this past month.

“Do you think he’s been broken up with?” John asked Ava.

“Within a month? No way,” Ava scoffed. “I mean, he’s Barnes, but he’s still a handsome man.”

“Bob, what do you think?” John asked, turning to him.

“Um… Maybe they got into a fight?” the man added in nervously. “Maybe Bucky’s tryna let her cool off?”

“A fight for this long though? He hasn’t gone home early in like, a week!” John exclaimed.

“Not manly,” Alexei clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “A man should own up to his mistakes and face his woman accordingly!”

Bucky wanted to go home. 

Home to what though? 

There were no board games to play with Rebecca if dinner wasn’t done in time. He wouldn’t be able to listen to Rebecca’s nonstop tirade on what Hello Kitty character of the week is her favorite since her little eight year old mind can’t decide on a single one to keep. 

Bucky would have to stare at the lopsidedly taped drawings on the wall that Rebecca taped up– drawings of the three of them that she proudly showed him when he came home. Art that was all over his walls, the main decoration of his place. 

He wouldn’t be able to put Rebecca to bed tonight.

You wouldn’t greet him when he came through the door either. You wouldn’t smile at him with the same warmth you always do. You wouldn’t be there to sit with him after dinner and chat with him until the late hours of the night and keep him company to talk about nothing and everything at the same time. You weren’t there to giggle with him as you drank maybe a little too much, your thigh brushing against his as you sat next to him on the couch as you both pretended to watch something on the TV together.

You wouldn’t be there in the early hours of the morning, hair slightly messy as you make him lunch– lunch that the team teases him about because they once saw the sticky note that had an encouraging message written on it in your handwriting that you include with every single lunch you pack for him. At some point, you started drawing a single heart with each note, too.

There was no point in going home to an empty apartment after he knows how good it can be to return home to a warm one.

“Barnes.”

“What?” he snapped, looking at Yelena.

“Go on a vacation.”

“What?” he repeated, eyebrows furrowing at her.

“I’m not gonna ask you for any details,” she started, “Whatever is going on isn’t messing with the job right now, but it sure as hell might do it soon– so figure out your life before you start fucking up on missions. I’ll make sure Val doesn’t ask about you.”

Bucky knew Yelena– this was a nice way of her telling him to fix whatever went wrong. He let out a breath. Without another word, he turned away.

The doorbell ringing throughout your house makes you look up from your laptop. You check the time– it’s only seven. Rebecca’s at a sleepover at her friend’s house tonight, and you’re not expecting any guests. 

You make your way to the front of the house, checking the camera. Your heartbeat quickens as the screen lights up with a familiar face. You rip the door open immediately. 

“Bucky?” you asked, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” he greeted you, albeit a little awkwardly. “Nice to see you, too.”

“I mean– yeah. Nice to see you. Come in.”

You step aside to let him in, watching him take in the surroundings of your house briefly. Then, he clears his throat, eyes settling on you again. Suddenly, you feel bare even though you’ve worn similar clothes in front of him before.

“Where’s Rebecca?” he asked, shifting on his feet.

“She’s at a friend’s house tonight. Sleepover,” you answered. “Sorry to disappoint. She would’ve been happy to see you.”

“No, no. It’s okay. I–uh… I came to see you, actually,” he confessed.

Your lips parted, eyes searching all over his face again. He’s not lying. He’s staring right at you, and you’re getting lost in his eyes. You quickly pull yourself away to turn towards the kitchen.

“Want something to drink? Water? Beer?” you asked, opening the fridge and pulling out two bottles of beer prematurely. “I haven’t cooked anything yet, but are you hungry for anything?”

“Just you,” he answered.

You paused for a moment, wondering if you heard him correctly. Then, you straighten. The silence is heavy as you feel his eyes on your back. It’s burning you, but not in a bad way. It’s not desire, not lust. You can’t describe the feeling that he’s emanating right now.

You take in a deep breath before you turn around, placing the bottles on the table.

“Can you open these with your metal hand or do I need to get the bottle opener?” you asked, looking at him again.

“I got it,” he murmured, reaching for them. Both of the bottles were opened with ease, and he handed you the first one, your fingertips brushing against each other as the drink passed between you two. 

You watch as he brings the rim to his lips at the same time you do, both of you taking a long, slow drink together. It goes down your throat in a burn that you’ve never felt before. 

“What did you mean by that?” you finally asked, wetting your lips nervously. “What do you mean.. me?”

“Exactly what I said,” he replied, eyes never leaving your face. “You. I want you.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a breath. “Bucky, I told you that I don’t do–”

“And I will be here for you and Rebecca. That is not a problem for me,” he cut you off immediately, putting the bottle down on the table to place his hands on your shoulders. “You don’t understand. The last week and a half have been absolute hell for me. You showed me what a home is, and it’s gone. I miss it. I miss you, and I miss Rebecca. I know that you are a package deal. I know where you are, Rebecca is.”

“Do you miss me, or do you miss the home that I gave you?” you asked wearily.

“Sweetheart, you are home,” he whispered, stressing the words. Your chest squeezed at his confession. “I thought I was going crazy. I thought– I tried to envision somebody else. I couldn’t. It had to be you. I don’t think it can be anyone else. I need it to be you greeting me. Am I– was I the only one who thought there was something between us?”

You want to run away. You want to lie to him and tell him that he made it all up in his head. But you’ve been thinking about him, too.

You made too much food the past week and a half. You’ve accidentally made his serving without thinking about it. You’ve been waking up earlier than you need to because you still think about making him lunch, and you go to work wondering if he ate a substantial dinner. 

Other than food– you wonder if he’s lonely. He told you that he was. He told you that you and Rebecca made him less lonely. And he made you less lonely the days that you spent with him, too. 

“It’s not just my heart that you would break,” you whispered, repeating the same words that you said to him before.

“I would never,” he promised.

“You said that it would be selfish of you to be in a relationship with someone because of your job,” you told him.

“This past month showed me that I could manage,” he said, shaking his head. “I came home to you every night, didn’t I?”

He had a point.

You bit your lip, still hesitating. You were scared. Terrified. Bucky could see it in your eyes. His hands slid from your shoulders down your arms and to your hands, squeezing them comfortingly. 

“We don’t have to tell Rebecca right away, if that makes you feel better. We can feel it out. See if this works. And if it doesn’t– then she’ll never know. I know that’s your main worry,” he said, brushing his hands over your knuckles. “But please believe me when I say I would never do anything to hurt either of you.”

You know that wouldn’t be fair to Rebecca. Hell, that wouldn’t be fair to Bucky.

The two of them have bonded so well over the short time that they’ve known each other that it’s almost scary. Bucky mentioned that he didn’t have the facilities to raise a kid, but he did pretty damn well with running after her.

She hung off his vibranium arm more times than you could count. You watched as he did push-ups and she sat on his back giggling. There were times where she helped him load the dishwasher. They watched cartoons together, and she would explain the plot of the episode, and he would sit there and genuinely listen to every single word that came from her mouth.

“I don’t want to hide anything from her,” you said, sighing softly, squeezing his hands back. “Besides, I was planning on quitting my job. Do you want to hire me as your actual personal assistant? Do you think me and Becks could just move into your apartment for real this time?”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“I fucking hate my boss, Bucky,” you said, smiling at him. “I was your pseudo-assistant and all you had me do was buy pillows and spend your money on groceries. It was a pretty good gig. I mean, of course, if you need my resume, it’s pretty good. I can print it out for you.”

“I mean– us. You’re giving us a chance?” he asked, still in shock.

You smile wider at him. “Should I add my feelings for you on the resume?”

Bucky stared at you for a few moments before his hands cradled your face, his lips pressing against yours before you even realized it. You let out a small laugh against him, feeling him smile against you as your arms wrapped around him.

Soon, you were pressed between the counter and the solid muscle that was Bucky. His hands were on your waist, holding you close to him as you held onto his jacket, pulling him into you as you angled your head to make him kiss you deeper. 

It was almost effortless, the way your tongue met his. You’re not even sure who’s mouth opened first, but you didn’t really care. The first moan that came out was his, though. You were hungry to hear more. You rose on your toes, pressing harder into him as a hand splayed against your back. You briefly let go of his jacket to start shoving it down his arms. He let you.

“Shit,” he grunted as you broke the kiss trail kiss down his neck, a second hand moving to cradle the back of your head against him. “Sweetheart, where’s your bedroom?”

“Down the hall, last door to the left,” you whispered into his skin right before he hooked his hands under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips. 

Just like you thought, he picked you up like you were nothing. 

He carried you over to your room as you continued to pepper kisses against his neck, nipping and biting at his skin as he hummed in enjoyment. Once he got to your bed, he laid you down in the middle of it, kneeled between your legs.

“One of my pillows still smells like you,” he muttered, hands finding your waist again. “Your entire room smells like you.”

“Is that bad?” you whispered back.

“No. Drove me crazy. I missed you so much,” he sighed, his hands dipping under your shirt. “Is this okay?”

“I haven’t done anything like this in a really long time, Bucky,” you confessed, meeting his eyes. “Might be a little awkward.”

He smiled a bit, bending down over you to press a kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a sweet kiss to your lips. Bucky pulled away to look you in the eyes.

“It’s okay,” he promised. “It’s been a long time for me, too.”

Your stomach flipped with anticipation as he pulled your shirt off your body, eyes beginning to trail all over your bare torso. He cursed under his breath, and you felt goosebumps raise where his hands ghosted over your skin. He wasn’t touching you fully, not yet.

Then, Bucky descended, catching you in an open mouthed kiss as his hands finally closed over your breasts, kneading them. You let out a soft moan against his lips as his fingertips rolled a stiff nipple with one hand while his tongue licked into your mouth.

“It’s already hard,�� he muttered, pulling away from your lips. 

“Because you’re touching me!” you complained, your chest rising and falling unevenly. Bucky chuckles above you, kissing your jaw. 

“You’re cute when you’re needy,” he said. “Are you wet, too?”

You can’t answer him– he’s already searching for the answer himself. His flesh hand is dipped under your shorts and underwear, parting your folds and humming in delight at his discovery. You, on the other hand, are at his disposal.

“Bucky,” you whispered, hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

“I got you,” he murmured, biting at your neck gently before soothing the wound with his tongue. 

You’re deliciously overwhelmed within moments. He still has his face in your neck, his metal hand teasing your breast and nipple, and the other hand between your legs, fingers just barely poking at your entrance where you want him most. He’s messing with you, you realize. He can feel your pulse from where his lips are. 

“Please, Bucky,” you moaned– only to feel his fingers press into you a moment later.

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he chuckled into your ear. 

“You’re such an asshole,” you gasp, fingernails digging into his shoulders as he finds a lazy pace to fuck you with his fingers. 

“And you look so pretty like this,” he said, eyes scanning over your figure beneath him. You could only imagine what you looked like right now. Flustered, with his hand in your shorts, one breast being grabbed by his metal hand. You must look like a work of art to him.

Another moan escapes your throat as his finger crooks just slightly, eyes falling shut. 

“Oh my God– more–” your words come out broken as he fulfills your request without another word, a second finger joining in to press in and out of you faster. Your hips buck up slightly to meet his hand, a shiver rushing through your body as you feel pressure building up in your stomach. 

“There you go,” he whispered, and you take a moment to look at him. His eyes are blown out– dark. You almost can’t see the stormy grey blue eyes with how he’s looking at you right now. Your eyes trail down his body, and you can see him straining against his jeans. “Feels good?”

“Fuck– yes. Feels really good,” you forced out, a moan following your words.

He smiles in delight at your response, fingers curling ever so slightly and hitting that slightly spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars behind your eyes. Your back arches and he takes note– and his fingers quickens. 

You can’t moan. No noises escape you as your walls clamp down on his fingers, eyes closing tight as you cum all over his fingers. Bucky lets out a moan above you, getting off at you getting off. His fingers never stop, continuing to massage you through your high.

Your body trembles slightly as he finally pulls out, and you watch him lick his fingers clean. You have never seen a hotter, more sensual sight in your entire life. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, breathing a bit heavier. “Take your pants off already.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, swallowing thickly. “If we start–”

“Oh my God, fuck me already,” you cut him off, reaching for his belt. 

A laugh escapes his lips as he moves to help your shaking hands, tossing the belt to the side of your bed. He removes his shirt next. As he throws his pants and underwear off, you do the same, and he’s above you within the next few moments. 

You don’t give him a chance to breathe before your arms are wrapped around his neck, pulling his body down against yours. You like the feel of his bare body against yours. It’s warm in a way that you’ve never felt before. Comfortable and hard– safe. 

His lips are on yours in an instant as he situates himself between your legs once more. You feel the tip of him press against you, spreading your folds just slightly. He’s hesitating. 

You grind your hips against him as you continue to kiss him, humming softly. You want him. You want this. 

Bucky lets out a small sigh against you, and finally slides home. 

Both of you let out a moan into each other’s mouths. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned, breaking the kiss. His forehead is pressed against yours. “You’re just swallowing me up– you’re so tight. Thought I stretched you out.”

“Told you– I haven’t done this in a long time,” you whispered back, a broken moan falling from your lips as he pushed in more of his length. 

The stretch doesn’t hurt. In fact, you’re loving every moment of it. You feel every inch of him, every groove and every vein of his cock entering you. It’s addicting. He’s addicting. When his hips are finally flush against yours, you feel impossibly full. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this feeling. 

“Nice and slow,” he grunted, and you nod deliriously in agreement as he takes the first thrust.

It’s heaven. 

You’re falling apart, and Bucky is putting you back together just as fast with each slow roll of his hips against yours. He’s whispering praises to you as you hold onto him, but you can’t focus on his words right now. All you can focus on is the steady movement of his hips hitting yours, the sound of your own heartbeat, the feel of his heartbeat against your chest, and the way he looks at you with so much affection in your eyes that it makes you melt into the sheets beneath you.

“God, you’re so pretty,” you slur out the words, a bit breathless.

Bucky lets out a small laugh, smiling down at you in a way that makes your heart stutter. He does look so pretty. There’s a light sheen of sweat that’s covering his body right now. His muscles are rippling with each thrust into your body, and his arms are flexed as he holds onto your waist to keep you in place. 

“You don’t even know what you look like right now. It’s taking everything in me not to go wild,” he whispered back. “Wanna savour the moment.”

He pulls out until just the tip of his cock is left inside of you before thrusting back deep into you in one fluid motion, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips part in a noiseless moan. 

“God– you liked that?” he grunted, and you nodded, opening your eyes to look at him. “I could tell– you clenched around me so hard I almost came right then and there.”

“Again,” you whimpered, grabbing onto his wrists for stability. “Do it again.”

“I don’t think I can last very long if I keep doing that, sweetheart,” he admitted.

“Neither can I– please?” you begged. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, biting his lip as he tried collecting himself. “Where? Baby, where?”

“In me, on me– I don’t care,” you babbled, shaking your head. “Please, please, just hurry–”

He cut you off with another deep roll of his hips, capturing your lips once again. You couldn’t even kiss him back with the way he was fucking into you. It was slow, deep– but he was hitting everywhere that you could’ve ever needed. You were tightening around him, and you knew he was feeling it, the way his hips stuttered slightly, and hands tightened at your waist.

Bucky’s head dropped to your neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders once more as his thrusts got sloppier, his hands moving to grab your thighs and fold them against your body. You gasped beneath him, clenching around him.

“Bucky– shit–”

“Yes, yes, I know. I got you,” he moaned into your neck,  one hand moving between you to rub tight circles into your clit– and you were done for.

You were a mess beneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his fingers and hips never stopped. You felt his body shiver above you a few moments later as he groaned in your ear, and you felt an irreplaceable warmth fill your body as his hips came to a slow, cock twitching inside of you.

Bucky collapsed above you, though he kept most of his weight off of you as he tried catching his breath. Both of you were entirely spent. Eventually, he rolled over on his side, and pulled you into his chest with a satisfied sigh. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Then, you felt him tilt your head up to meet his lips once more. You feel his hands rest against your back, pulling you closer to him. You find that you don’t want to be anywhere else.

“I promise I’ll make you and Rebecca happy,” he murmured, lips barely pulled away from yours. “I’ll find a new apartment so Becky can have her own room.”

“You wanna cuddle with me at night, Bucky?” you ask, smiling against his lips. “Don’t wanna sleep on the couch anymore?”

“Hell no,” he snorted. “Why would I?”

You let out a laugh, pressing another quick kiss to his lips as you settle your head onto his arm. He watches you, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. There really is no mistaking the amount of affection that he has for you in his eyes.

“She’ll probably call you dad in a few months,” you whispered, watching his face to see how he’ll take it.

“She can call me whatever the hell she wants as long as it’s not grandpa,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. Despite the sass, there’s a smile on his face that he doesn’t bother to hide.

masterlist

taglist: @duacruel @natsomens @decthaxhrcv @shortandb1tchy @iyskgd @ifuckwithyouanyday @miss-chuchu @bighappypiels @snnoopyy @messrkarmaismygf13 @thebuckybarnesvault @aekzla let me know if you would like to be added/removed to a general bucky taglist :)

[soobnny]

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

[alanisinskz]

⋆˚꩜｡ 「 ᢉ𐭩 “i thought you hated me”」

pairing > ot8 x gn!leader (chan’s has mentions of she / her)

summary > reader thinks skz is acting weird or hates them (idk how to put it LOL)

warnings > none

wc > 3,675

authors note ᢉ𐭩 > okay well i tried on this one as well and i feel like i kinda loose plot at some point during the end im sorry😞

BANGCHAN - “hate you? you’re all i think about.”

Bangchan always acted weird around you. You didn’t know why, you got that weird vibe from him. Like his energy was just off.

And for that reason you tried to back off. You were friends with the members, but everytime someone invited you at to go with all eight of them , you declined. Making up excuses that you were sick or had family plans.

The kids noticed it , how you would never go out with them if Chan was there. But if it was them without Chan you’d be the first to arrive. They hadn’t said anything to you about it, letting you deal with it on your own.

-

Soon enough the kids convinced you to go out , with all eight of them. You tried and tried to convince them you were tired and literally anything to get them off your back. Did it work? Obviously not.

Weirdly enough, all of them but one had to step out , take a call , use the bathroom , whatever they had to do. So it was just you and Chan.

You tensed up, not trying to even look at Chan. You kept your gaze down at your feet. Just anxiously waiting for the rest of the boys to get back.

Your head shot up when you heard Chan clearing his throat. You quickly looked at him then moved your eyes back to the table. Chan’s eyes focused on you. He seemed anxious, almost worried.

“Are you good?” He asked softly.

You looked back at his face. A confused expression growing on yours.

“Uhm , yeah. What - What do you mean?” You breathed out. Slightly coughing out your words. Avoiding Chan’s gaze.

“You’ve been avoiding me, a lot. Even now it’s just us and you won’t even look at me.” He turned in his chair to face you completely. His gaze still strong on you.

You scratched the back of your neck. It was like you physically couldn’t look at Chan. Your gaze was stuck on the ground. “I thought you uh, hated me.” You chuckled nervously.

Chan was physically taken aback by your words. He looked at you , shook. His eyes growing wide.

“Hate you? I think about you all the time.”

Your hands dropped to your side. Your eyes shooting to Chan. Your breath hitched in your throat. He what? You couldn’t believe it. After all this time of you thinking he hated you, you were on his mind.

“I’m sorry, what?” You laughed nervously. Your voice coming out almost broken from shock. You squinted at him, like he wasn’t even there, like you were dreaming.

He nodded. Licking his bottom lip softly. He put his elbows on the table to look at you closer. “Yeah. Why doesn’t she talk to me? Why is she avoiding me? What would happen if i talked to her first? All that stuff.”

You listened as Chan explained himself. Everything that you had in your mind about him hating you, vanished.

LEE KNOW - “hate you ? i could never hate you.”

You and Minho never talked. Barely spoken a word to each other. Minho was naturally very quiet though, so nobody really said anything about it. But you always got a different vibe.

Sure you knew Minho was quiet and didn’t talk much, but with you it was different. He seemed uncomfortable when you were around. You had tried to talk to him, make conversation, but he just kinda brushed you off everytime.

You were at the studio , sitting on the couch as Jisung did whatever he was doing, you tried not to pay much attention. Until Minho got brought up.

Your eyes shot up to Jisung as he kept looking at his computer, acting completely unbothered.

“Minho? What about him?” You coughed out. Shocked by the sudden mention of his name. Jisung turned around in his chair, facing you completely.

“Just wondering. Why are you so weird around him?” He shrugged. Squinting his eyes and tilting his head at you softly. You shot back the same expression to Jisung. Scoffing a bit and moving your gaze back to your phone. Your voice going a bit lower.

“I’m not weird around him, he’s weird around me.” Jisung rolled his eyes and reached over to grab his phone. “We’ll see about that.”

You didn’t look up right away, only until you heard the dialing noises. You put your phone down and screamed at Jisung, frantically trying to grab the phone from his grasp. Falling onto the floor in the process.

“Jisung what are you doing! Stop! Give me your phone!”

But it was too late, not too long after Minho was walking into the room. You had gotten up off the floor and went back to scrolling on your phone. Jisung and Minho talked until ‘suddenly’ Jisung had to go do something. You shot him a glare and just groaned to yourself, but not to were Minho could hear.

After a moment Minho spoke up, completely unexpected to you. You looked over at him, your face blank, his as well. Not even that smirk that was always on his face. “Why do you act like that around me?”

You scoffed, like nothing was wrong. Like everything was normal. Like you didn’t think he had it out for you. Like everything was just peachy.

“Act like what around you?” You barely looked at him. Grabbing your phone off the floor when it had fell. Not even actually doing anything, just acting like you were.

Minho groaned. Pointing at your phone, gesturing to your actions right at the moment. “Like this! You’re acting weird, avoiding me, you’re acting like you hate me.”

You scoffed again, finally putting your full attention on Minho, putting your phone down on the couch once again. You turned to fully face him. You squinted at him. “Are you serious? I was only acting like that because i thought you hated me.”

Minho looked just as shocked as you. “Hate you? I could never hate you. You’re sweet, and caring. You too kind for me to hate.”

He couldn’t believe it either, you both thought one of you hated the other, apparently that wasn’t the case.

CHANGBIN - “hate you ? i’m nervous around you.”

You and Changbin were close, at least you used to be.

You would invite him to do things with you, tried to strike a conversation, nothing. He would either be dry or wait hours to text you back. You guys didn’t even go to the gym together anymore. That’s what was weird.

You had enough. You just wanted your best friend back.

You heard his footsteps walking towards the door, you sat at the door patiently, your hands in fists by your sides. You watched as he opened the door, as soon as he saw you his eyes widened, his body tensing up.

Changbin quickly opened the door and nudged you inside, shutting the door behind the two of you. “Y/n, what’s wrong, what are you doing here?” His voice soft.

The two of you were standing in the middle of his living room. Your expression stern, his soft and worried, confused even.

Your hands were held tightly in fists by your sides. You weren’t angry with Changbin, even though your actions made it seem that way. You were just confused. Confused on why your favorite person was acting so distant.

You walked up to him, the two of you barely inches apart. “Changbin why are you avoiding me? You’re being dry and you don’t text me, we don’t even go the gym together anymore! You’re acting like you hate me.”

“Hate you? I could never hate you. I just get,” He started. He looked down at his feet, wondering if he should say what he really wanted. Your gaze was stuck on Changbin. You couldn’t look away.

You waited for him to respond. The tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“I just get , nervous. You make me feel a way no one else has before. I just didn’t know how to talk to you anymore. So i just, distanced myself. I was scared you would just reject me.”

Your face softened as Changbin came clean. A soft smile tugged on the corner of your lips. You couldn’t respond right away, you were flattered. But you felt a bit dumb because you couldn’t tell that Changbin felt like this, or that he had been feeling like this at all.

HYUNJIN - “hate you ? you’re my muse.”

You and Hyunjin met in an art class. It went from you complimenting his painting to you two exchanging numbers to meeting up then ultimately becoming best friends.

Normally you two would meet up and paint anytime you could. But here recently, it seemed like it had been forever since you had even last seen Hyunjin.

You two still texted somewhat normally. He seemed like he was still himself over texts, you just wanted to see him in person, paint together like you used to.

You barely ever saw him at art class either. You always went, but only barely saw glimpses of him. Like he would show up then leave as soon as he saw you. You didn’t like the distance, the avoiding. It didn’t feel good at all.

-

You finally saw Hyunjin at the art class before you got there. That was your opportunity.

You watched Hyunjin as he stood up to leave. You quickly ran to him and grabbed his arm, stopping him in the hallway.

He just stopped, not turning around or anything. His back turned to you, like he wanted to move but he couldn’t.

You hesitated a bit before actually speaking. Your eyes scanning the room before you looked back up at the back of Hyunjin’s head. You took a deep breath, sliding your hands behind your back.

“Uhm Hyunjin. I just wanted to ask why you’ve been avoiding me. I’m starting to think you hate me.”

You kept your gaze on your feet. Your fingers intertwining themselves together. Hyunjin turned around slowly, looking down at you softly. He scanned you up and down, noticing your demeanor. He rested his hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and gentle.

“Hate you? I don’t hate you. You’re literally my muse.” Your eyes shot up quickly. Looking at Hyunjin, your pupils growing big. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“What? I don’t understand,”

You shook your head in disbelief. You laughed softly. Shutting your eyes tightly. Hyunjin ran his hand through his buzz. “Yeah. I’ve been ‘avoiding’ you because i’ve been working on this painting of you. I wanted to surprise you with it.”

You stared at Hyunjin. Your mouth opened slightly. You had done all this over thinking for nothing. Beating yourself up over a painting.

HAN - “hate you ? i literally write songs about you.”

You loved music. Your first love was music. That’s how you and Jisung bonded so quickly.

You sent each other voice memos of songs you two were working on, lyrics you thought sounded good. Ideas for songs, beats. Everything. Almost all you talked about was music. But you two still had fun every once in a while.

Going to underground bars for music , music festivals, all that jazz. You always had fun when you went out with Jisung, he was fun. Never a dull moment with him. And you always assumed he had fun with you as well. Until here recently.

It had been weeks since you had went out with Jisung. Weeks since you last heard a voice message from him. No lyrics, no beats, nothing. Silent. You couldn’t text him as often as you would like either, being busy with your own work.

That’s all you thought it was between you and Jisung, just the two of you being busy. But he would normally send you a heads up, or just send you a little text checking in on you. But he hadn’t.

You were bored, sitting at home. No new music ideas, you couldn’t even think of music without thinking of Jisung. It was like he could tell when you were bored and had no ideas. It was like he could read your mind through the phone.

But now, nothing.

You groaned to yourself and decided to text him. You couldn’t deal with the so called distance. “Jisung where have you been? No text, no voice message, nothing. I’m starting to think you hate me lol.”

After sending the message you sat your phone down. Not expecting Jisung to text back at all. You laid out on your bed, limbs all sprawled out. Sighing to yourself. You looked around on your ceiling, nothing new. Just like it always was. Until your phone buzzed.

You didn’t think much of it, just a notification from an app or a text from a friend. You weren’t gonna look, until you thought maybe, just maybe it would be Jisung. You hesitated for a second. Slowly reaching for your phone.

And sure enough, it was Jisung.

You quickly sat up, going into your messages. Multiple replies from Jisung. You read them quickly.

“Oh my god Y/n! I sincerely apologize for not texting you😞 I’ve been SWAMPED.”

“Hate you??? Who possessed my Y/n. I could NEVER hate you. I’ve actually been writing a song for you 🙂‍↕️.”

You covered your mouth in shock. Like Jisung could see you. You felt your cheeks warm a bit. You didn’t know how to respond. After all this time he had been writing a song for you. You couldn’t believe how bad you were overthinking it, like you just needed Jisung.

FELIX - “hate you ? i think about you while im baking.”

Felix had bumped into you at a small cafe one time and it was all uphill from there.

You shared recipes with each other and baked on facetime all the time. You would send each other pictures of new stuff that you would make and try out.

You two even had little bake “dates” whenever you both had the time.

You would find new recipes and try them out together. Some ended up with a sleepover or just a few movies after.

You liked it, it felt like Felix was your person, and the only one you would ever do this with, and honestly, you didn’t want to do it with anyone else.

You hadn’t been in a baking mood recently, but Felix would still send you updates and stuff that he baked. But then one day he just stopped.

You two would still text of course, but no more baking selfies from him. You actually heard him talk about brownies or anything like that in a while.

Sure you weren’t in that mood, but that was you, not Felix. Felix loved baking, and it was just weird to you he wouldn’t talk to you about it anymore.

You also thought his energy was just off with you. Like your connection was just fading.

Felix was going over to yours, movie night, no baking , oddly enough. You texted him telling him the door was unlocked and waited for him to arrive.

Once he did he walked inside, shutting the door behind him and taking his shoes off at the door. He greeted you and sat down next to you on the couch. Taking some of the blanket you had so you two could share.

You silently nodded to him, greeting him as well. Scooting over so he could get comfy on the couch.

You looked down at your hands and took a deep breath before speaking. You wanted to get to the bottom of why Felix wasn’t being his normal self.

“Hey Felix, i was just thinking. You’ve been being kind of weird lately. Do you not like baking with me anymore?” You questioned softly. Refusing to look up at him just in case he said something bad.

Felix quickly grabbed your hands. His free hand cupping your chin and leaning it to face him. He looked at you softly, shaking his head. “No, no. I love baking with you. I bake for you. You’ve helped me love baking more than i did before.”

He smiled after. His soft smile making you shoot him a smile back in return. You pulled one of your hands free from Felix’s, cupping his face as well. Your thumb making circles on his cheek. You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to feel. You just knew that you didn’t wanna be anywhere else, just with Felix.

SEUNGMIN - “hate you ? i hate everything but you.”

Seungmin was always very nonchalant, he always seemed like he just didn’t care about anything. But with you, he was different. You got to see a different side of him. Sometimes he was sort of sweet.

For some reason he started acting like he normally did, too normal. He started treating you like he did his friends, no more heart emojis, no more harmless little jokes. Just pure Seungmin, like he used to be.

You got a weird energy from it. It was so different. It wasn’t your Seungmin. And beat yourself up over it.

Many endless nights pacing around your room , wondering if you should text him about how you feel. And every time, you were too scared to do it.

-

Seungmin had taken you out, nothing important, just a little date. You appreciated him for it, you two hadn’t went out in a while. And now you finally were.

You tried to talk, tell him about your day, just have a normal conversation. Seungmin didn’t seem interested at all.

Once you noticed you just stopped. You looked at Seungmin, your face changed, going blank.

“I know you’re just naturally nonchalant about everything. But why are you acting so different towards me? You’re acting like i’m just one of your friends, like i bother you.”

Seungmin quickly looked at you. Shaking his head. “No, no. Y/n you can’t say that kind of stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused but waiting for Seungmin to continue.

“You know i care about you more than my friends. Just because i don’t act like it anymore doesn’t mean i love you any less. I’m yours. Always.”

You could’ve swore you saw a smile tug on Seungmin’s face. You shot one back. This, this is why you fell in love with Seungmin in the first place. He showed you that sweeter side.

And no matter what you knew he would always care about you.

I.N - “hate you ? you’re the only one i let show me skinship.”

Jeongin hated skinship. You knew that. But you were the opposite. Physical touch was your love language and you were very touchy with anyone you cared about.

Especially with Jeongin. You tried not to be too touchy with him, because you knew he didn’t like it.

He could tell you were holding back hugging him or brushing your knee against his, so he dealt with it, just a bit.

He knew it made you happy, and he cared about you just as much you did about him.

Every once in a while you would get a hug, maybe even a kiss on the cheek. It took you a while to even get a pinky hold. The members started to get jealous of all the touching you were getting from Jeongin.

But Jeongin had been pulling away. You would reach for his hand and he would inch it away. Try to pull him in for a hug and he would back out of it.

You understood if Jeongin just wasn’t feeling it, but this was now all the time. Like he hadn’t warmed up to you anymore. Like he didn’t like your touch anymore.

You decided to talk to him about it. You stood in front of your front door, waiting for Jeongin to arrive. You had practiced what you were going to say for what felt like millions of times.

Then you heard it.

A car door shut, footsteps walking up to the door. The knocks. You froze. Your hands in front of your chest. You swallowed a lump in your throat before yelling telling Jeongin he could come in.

He walked in, stopping when he noticed that you were right in front of the door.

“Y/n? What’s going-“ He started. You cut him off. You rambled your words. Looking down at your feet. If you didn’t say anything now, you were never gonna say it.

“I just think that you don’t like my touch anymore and i’m starting to think you kind of hate it, or me.” You played with your fingers, your hands still directly in front of your chest. You breathed heavily.

Too scared to look at Jeongin, you couldn’t bear to look up at him. Too scared to see his expression, too scared to hear what he’s gonna say.

He stepped closer to you, taking your hands into his softly. You looked up at him slowly.

“Y/n, i could never hate you. I can’t believe you would think that. I’m sorry i’ve been pulling away. I’ll try better, i promise.”

You didn’t expect it but he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You leaned over and gave him a peck on his cheek. Receiving a soft smile from him in return.

authors note ᢉ𐭩 > wooooo there’s that one. i also might just start making fake texts because 1 i think it would be easier and 2 it wouldn’t take me as long🥀 also i lowkey hate these so you guys have fun reading them LOL

ps: WHY IS CHANGBINS SO SHORT OMG

pss: AGAIN if someone did this first full creds to them

[cherriesnpapaya]

Fashion Killer - LN

In which Mr Norris is left speechless over a sundress.

Warnings: NSFW - smut. unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving / giving), friends with benefits, soft dom!lando,

Lan <3 - are you coming to the race?

Miami Grand Prix. In which the men on the grid couldn’t get away from models. Families definitely weren’t invited to this exhilarating mess of a weekend.

On my way sweet cheeks, please find me the coldest drink you can. - sent

Lando couldn’t care less what model they had behind him, trying to seem interested in the sport. He was watching her walk to the paddock in that ridiculously perfect sundress.

Loose, hung perfectly over her american doll legs. The cream of the linen light and only complimented by her brunette hair curled to perfection on her sides. He could practically feel how soft the stands felt as his hands gripped his bottle.

The tan she sported a crude reminder of her skimpy attire she had been living in whilst they lounged around the villa the last few days. He got them the quiet space, filled it with his friends to distract everyone and then revelled in her presence.

Bright smile on her cheeks as she waved for the cameras. Max Fewtrell by her side as they came to join Norris after supporting Fewtrell with his racing activities.

“How are you dressed in that.” She groaned, slipping onto a stool next to him. Lando had to peel his eyes off her legs before he ditched the car to catch a ride instead.

“My job, honey.” He chuckled, holding out his bottle for her. Bad idea.

He watched her lips wrap around the straw. He’s taken back to when he was teaching her how to use the bottles, and somehow ended up with a blowjob.

Final calls were being made to start the pre race media, so Lando stood up and opened his arms for his friends to fall into them.

“Go get em tiger.” She chuckled, the bottle handed back to him with the deep pink stain of her lipstick around the top of it. God how Lando wished to be a straw.

He certainly got them, coming first place for the first time in his career. He dripped with sweat, and some water he’s poured over his face, gleaming ear to ear. His tan still deep golden next to his orange suit.

The celebrations were never ending. From the crowd, his team, other garages and of course his fellow drivers. They poured into his villa, music and drinks flowing freely. The hum of chatter with the occasional cheer as the winner would join conversations. He worked his way round, trying to find the girl he’s been thinking about every second of the day.

“Thought I’d lost you.” He made her jump, slipping into her room. She turned from her position in front of the mirror, earrings in hand.

“I was just going to change.”

“But you look fit.” He could help but speak his mind. The filter between them had been lost about 6 shags ago.

“Have caught you staring a few times.”

“Oh no, punish me for my crimes please.”

He sneered, falling back onto the plush white bed. She rolled her eyes, placing the earrings down. The carpet muffled her steps, letting her slip between his open legs quietly.

“Aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” She teased, arms crossed as he peaked a look at her:

“I am, what’s my prize?” He hummed, sitting up to place his hands on the back of her thighs. Cheeky eyes gazed up at her, watching as her lip caught between her teeth. His thumbs worked circles into the soft skin. She didn’t know if she was desperate, but it felt like they slowly moved inwards.

The music vibrated through the floor, which she was quick to notice when she dropped to her knees. Lando couldn’t help the smirk taken over him, quickly removing anything in the way. He propped back on elbows as she finally took him into her hands.

Profanities rough from his throat as she took him down hers, tongue tracing the vein down the side of him. Bobbing her head, tongue piercing running over his top just how he liked. He throbbed, excitement having built up all day. She hummed, smirking when his head would fall back from watching her.

“Shit baby c’mere.” He ran a hand over her jaw, pushing her off his stained cock. He had the stamina for races in incredible heats, but she knew just how to ruin a man. He slipped off his tshirt in a blink, hands back glued to her hips as he pulled her to straddle his legs.

When she moved to slip her dress off, he caught her wrists, pushing them behind her back to drop them there. Her insides giddy with the move, grinding down slowly on his crotch.

“No chance. You’ve been teasing me with this all day.” He spoke against her neck, leaving sloppy kisses and sucks on any exposed skin. She didn’t even notice his fingers lingering over her panties, moving them to the side.

“Lando.” She whined, arms now hooked around his neck. He kneaded her arse, hips, tits as he sunk into her slowly. Her head rolled, moans covered up by the sounds of some asap song underneath them.

He could barely speak, weak moans fell from his open mouth as she took more control. Moving up and down at her own speed, occasionally rolling her hips to get him to hit that one spot.

She gasped, eyes shut as she rolled continuously into the same spot. Lando knew the tightness, he knew what it meant for you to get close.

“Just like that pretty girl.” He cooed, fingers brushing slowly over her clit in an aggravating manor. A string of swear words left the previously painted lips as she rolled, now mixing between rutting against his fingers and his cock.

Thank god for the loud music as she came for the first time that night, her body spasms into his as the rocking comes to an end.

“You good?” He checked, hands playing with the hem of her dress.

“So good.” Practically drooling, Lando chuckled at the cock drunk girl slumped into him. He attached his lips to hers, lifting her up to swap them around. Her legs rested over the end of the bed, not having a chance to even prop herself up before Lando licked a stripe through her folds.

It was a guilty pleasure of Lando’s, enjoying her body’s reactions to the way he rolled his tongue over her bud. Her legs wrapped around his head, before spreading again as she ran her fingers through his curls. She moaned out as Lando spat into her opening, the smile on his lips almost pushed her over the edge itself. And there she came, for a second time.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He complimented, overwhelmed by the look of her on the bed currently. Fucked out, face flushed and smiling. Hair sprawled out over the mattress, looking like a goddess. It made him harder to just look.

“Fuck me Lando.” She pulled him back in, heel digging into this back causing him to practically fall forward. He pretended to be shocked, moving her ankles to hang over her shoulders as he got right back to it.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed, fucking in and out of her and she swore he was in her stomach. He knew he was nearly fucked out, her nails digging into his stomach hinted the feeling was mutual.

Before he could pull out, he was pushing the warmth into her further. Moaning out probably a bit too loud, stilling completely as they both caught their breaths. Once he had pulled out, he was helping her clean up, pulling the dress back down to sit perfectly again.

“Wear that dress for me again sometime.”

“That’s a boyfriend privilege Norris.”

——————

Thank you for reading! New to the scene, so send any prompts/inspo over. I hope to write lots more for ya ;)

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[xo100]

Shifting gears - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando and you, childhood best friends, discover a deeper connection during a drive in his new Porsche. After discussing his playboy image, the conversation takes an unexpected turn, leading to a realization of long-hidden feelings and shifting your relationship from friendship to something more romantic and intimate.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2250

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The afternoon sun filtered through the tall trees that lined the road, casting dappled shadows over the sleek Porsche as it cruised effortlessly along the winding asphalt. The roar of the engine was almost hypnotic, a perfect blend of power and control, much like its owner. Lando Norris gripped the steering wheel with ease, his fingers drumming absentmindedly as he glanced over at his passenger—his best friend, someone who had been by his side since they were kids.

While Lando had built a reputation for himself as a playboy—charming, confident, and always with a new girl on his arm—you were the complete opposite. Introverted, quiet, and shy. But that’s what made your friendship so special. You balanced each other out.

Today, though, something felt a little different. Maybe it was the car, the air of freedom and luxury it represented, or maybe it was the conversation you were having that shifted the mood. Either way, the usual playful banter between the two of you had taken a slightly more serious turn.

“So, who’s the flavor of the week this time?” you teased, your voice light but carrying a hint of genuine curiosity as you shifted in the leather seat.

Lando chuckled, a low, throaty sound that seemed to vibrate through the car. “Not sure yet. You know how it is,” he replied with a smirk, his eyes never leaving the road.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no judgment in your expression. “Yeah, I know exactly how it is. You with some random girl, one night, maybe two if she’s lucky, and then you’re off to the next. It’s like you’re collecting trophies or something.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I’m just… having fun. Life’s short, you know?”

You snorted softly. “For you, maybe. I can’t even imagine doing that. Just… being with someone like that, without any meaning. Doesn’t it get old?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, finally glancing over at you. “Why, you thinking about trying it out?” he teased, though his tone carried a hint of something deeper, something that wasn’t quite a joke.

Your face flushed, and you quickly turned to look out the window, trying to hide the sudden rush of heat that crept up your neck. “No,” you muttered, “I’m not like that.”

Silence filled the car for a moment, the hum of the engine the only sound between you. Lando’s eyes flickered back to the road, but his expression was thoughtful now, less playful than usual. “You don’t always have to be so… sweet, you know,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter, almost serious. “It’s okay to let loose sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less… you.”

You blinked, surprised by his words. He wasn’t wrong; you were the “sweet” one, the one who always cared too much, worried too much. But hearing Lando say it so bluntly made you feel strangely vulnerable, like he could see right through your carefully crafted exterior.

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who’s constantly in the tabloids for having one-night stands with half the population,” you shot back, the words harsher than you intended.

Lando laughed, though there was a sharpness to it. “Touché. But you know, it’s not as glamorous as people make it out to be.”

You frowned, turning back to him. “What do you mean? You always seem like you’re having the time of your life.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s fun, I guess. But it’s not… real, you know? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s easy. I’m used to it.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had never heard him talk like this before, so openly about the lifestyle he had embraced. It wasn’t like him to get deep, not about this.

“Then why do you keep doing it?” you asked quietly.

Lando glanced at you, and for the first time, you saw something different in his eyes. Something almost… uncertain.

“Because it’s easier than thinking about what I really want,” he said softly.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. You swallowed, unsure of how to respond, your heart suddenly racing for reasons you couldn’t quite explain.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled the car off the main road, slowing down as he drove into a secluded spot overlooking a lake. The car came to a stop, and the silence that followed was deafening. He turned off the engine, and the two of you sat there, the tension in the air thick and palpable.

“I mean…” Lando began, his voice low, almost hesitant, “I’ve been with a lot of girls, sure. But none of them were ever you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”

He turned in his seat to face you fully, his expression serious now, his usual cocky smirk replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “You. You’re different. You always have been.”

Your mind was racing, trying to process his words, but all you could focus on was the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“But we’re… friends,” you stammered, your voice shaky.

“I know,” Lando said, his gaze never leaving yours. “And that’s why I’ve never said anything before. But… I don’t know. Lately, it feels like things have changed. Like maybe we’ve changed.”

You didn’t know what to say. You had always been close to Lando, but you had never let yourself think about him like that. He was Lando—the charismatic, carefree playboy who was always with someone else. But now, sitting here in the quiet of his car, it was hard to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest, the way his words made your stomach flip.

“I…” you started, but you didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Lando leaned closer, his hand coming to rest on the edge of your seat, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer, some kind of sign. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “And I will.”

But you didn’t tell him to stop. You couldn’t.

Instead, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow at first, hesitant, like neither of you were quite sure if this was really happening. But then something shifted. The kiss deepened, and suddenly it was like everything that had been simmering under the surface for years had finally come to a head.

Lando’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with more urgency. You could feel the heat of his body, the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and before you knew it, you were climbing over the center console, straddling him as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate.

You had never done anything like this before—never been this close to someone, never let yourself be this vulnerable. But with Lando, it felt… right. Like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

His hands roamed over your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You gasped as he kissed a trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looked up at you. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, barely controlled.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes.”

The next few moments were a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, the world outside the car fading into nothing as you lost yourself in him, in the way he made you feel. It wasn’t rushed or careless like you had imagined his one-night stands might be. It was slow, deliberate, and full of a kind of intensity you had never experienced before.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. You found yourself lying in his arms, the cool leather of the seat beneath you, your breathing still ragged as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Lando’s hand stroked your hair gently, his touch comforting, grounding. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m okay.”

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The sun had begun to set, casting a golden glow over the lake, and the quiet between you was no longer filled with tension, but with a kind of contentment you hadn’t expected.

Finally, Lando broke the silence. “You know… I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he said, his voice low. “But I’m glad it did.”

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “Me too.”

He shifted beneath you, turning slightly so he could look down at you. “So… what does this mean for us?”

You thought about it for a moment, your mind still spinning from everything that had just happened. But when you looked up into his eyes, you knew the answer.

“It means… maybe we’ve changed,” you said quietly, echoing his words from earlier.

Lando smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart

skip a beat. He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter.

“I guess we have,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. It was such a simple gesture, but it held a weight of everything unspoken between you. Years of friendship, of shared memories, of teasing and laughter—all of it led to this moment. The line you’d been dancing on for so long had finally blurred, and neither of you could deny it anymore.

For a while, you just lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in the comfortable silence that followed. The world outside the car seemed distant, irrelevant. It was just you and Lando now, and that felt right.

Eventually, though, the practicalities of life started to creep back in, and you couldn’t ignore them forever. You shifted slightly, sitting up in the seat, the reality of what had just happened slowly settling in.

“So… what now?” you asked, your voice quiet, as if speaking too loudly would break the fragile newness of what had just formed between you.

Lando sat up too, his hand still resting on your thigh, a small, reassuring gesture. He looked at you thoughtfully, as if considering his words carefully. “I don’t want this to be some random, one-time thing,” he said slowly, his voice steady. “You’re not like those girls. You’ve never been. I don’t want to screw this up.”

You smiled softly, feeling your heart swell at his words. “I don’t want that either,” you admitted. “I’ve never thought of us like this before… but now, I can’t imagine it any other way.”

His eyes softened as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender, as if sealing the promise between you. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your lips.

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Lando confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Your heart skipped again, but this time it wasn’t from nerves—it was from the overwhelming realization that you felt the same way. Maybe you’d always felt it, buried somewhere deep down.

“I think I’ve always liked you too,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly at the confession.

Lando’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and joy. “Good. Because I’m not letting you get away now.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt simple. No more games, no more hiding behind jokes or casual flings. Just you and Lando, finally facing what had been there all along.

The sun was almost set now, casting a soft orange glow over the lake as the two of you sat there, side by side, in the quiet of the Porsche. The future felt uncertain in the best way possible, full of possibilities and new beginnings.

Lando gave your hand a squeeze, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You know,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye, “I think this Porsche might be my new lucky charm.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Of course you would say that.”

He grinned, that familiar cocky smile back in full force, but this time it was softened by something else—something deeper, more real. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll take you home. But tomorrow… maybe we can go for another drive?”

You nodded, your heart light as you leaned over to kiss him one more time. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As Lando started the car and pulled back onto the road, you couldn’t help but glance over at him, your best friend—your something more now—and feel grateful for every twist and turn that had led you here.

And as the Porsche sped down the road, the two of you heading into an uncertain future, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[jogetsobsessed]

One Night - Paul Lahote x reader

She's backkkkk! I know this isn't what you want, however, this survived the great laptop crash of 2024 (unlike the half-finished prophecy pt2 doc). This however is cutie in my opinion and I would be open to writing a part 2 (if anyone wants it). Also, I'm almost to 200 followers which is so crazy? Thank you for all the love!

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

“No, no, no, no”, you wailed as you looked at your hands. They were shaking as you clutched the plastic, the plus sign clear as day. Your body slumped down the wall of the bathroom, your body curling into itself as you hit the ground. 

What are you going to do? 

You were young, too young in your life to start thinking about starting a family. It's not even like you were seeing anyone. This whole situation came about after you had a bad day and just wanted to forget. To forget life and all your problems. 

You let yourself have fun, with someone you only kind of knew.  At the time that had seemed like the best plan. You knew of him and had met a few times through your friend Emily. It was better than prowling on some meaningless app that you would just delete the next morning. He was nice to look at, extremely cocky, kind of an asshole to everyone else, but always kind to you. 

The few times you had met Paul Lahote before your night of fun he had never gone out of his way to talk to you but that was okay with you. All the other boys that hung around Emily’s house could be way too much. Just dropping her off after work would lead to you being pulled into a two-hour conversation because none of them knew when to shut up. Paul however would always hover on the porch or somewhere else in your eyeline. He never came up to join the conversation but never left his spot of isolation either. 

So after a bad day at the clinic, Emily invited you back to her place for a drink and you accepted. Emily was your friend, one of the only actual friends you had made since moving to the Forks area six months prior. But you haven't spent much time together outside of work, except for riding to and from the clinic. 

But this shift had been so rough on both of you that you needed to vent to each other and get something in your system to make you forget a little. Cut to hours later neither of you notice her fiance and his friends walking in the house to you and Emily losing it on the couch, clutching your sides from how hard you were laughing. 

It wasn't even the alcohol necessarily, the two of you had split a bottle of wine but that wasn't enough to get you messed up to the point of uncontrollable laughter. No, it was finally being able to relax in good company, let loose and enjoy yourself. 

The boys had just snickered at the two of you, Emily’s fiance ushering them back into the kitchen to give the two of you some space. However, at some point, hunger struck and the kitchen was calling your name. 

Emily had declared nachos as the snack of choice and you couldn't agree more. She had charged through the sea of testosterone while you decided to timidly hug the doorframe, not knowing where to place yourself down. The kitchen was full of Sam’s friends and there wasn't a place to sit. You were thinking of slipping into the kitchen and leaning against the counter while Emily assembled plates of goodness.

That was until a particular tanned-skin boy stood up and very subtly gestured towards the chair. A sudden confidence had taken over you, and you certainly can blame that on the wine. Crossing the room in just a few paces you lower yourself onto the previously occupied seat and join the rowdy group at the table. 

Looking up you gave him a silent look of thanks as he stood, leaning his back against the countertop. He reciprocated a small smirk before returning his attention to the intense game of spoons that the other boys were trying to rope you into. 

After that, the night was a blur. You had played a few rounds of the card game, Emily eventually joining with heaping plates of nachos, placing herself in her fiance's lap. Paul had disappeared momentarily, reappearing with an old wooden stool, sitting directly to your left. 

You tried to focus on everything happening, but it was no use. All you could think about was that simple gesture of kindness. The act of chivalry that no doubt was gonna earn him some teasing from his buddies, which is what made it and him so much more attractive. 

Thoughts of the beautiful man plagued your mind the whole night and when he offered to drive you back home at the end of the night you accepted. He blamed it on the fact that he wouldn't feel right if he let you drive home after drinking, even if it was just a few glasses of wine and that had been hours ago. 

Even though you felt completely sober at this point as it had been hours and you had eaten your fair share of nachos you obliged, how could you pass up the opportunity for one of the most attractive men you had laid eyes on in a long time to drive you home? 

Attractive and chivalrous, two things he had going for him. 

The ride home was nice, the windows rolled down, and your hair flowed in the breeze. He drove smoothly and slowly, taking the winding corners with ease. A song that occupied the radio 24/7 played, and you were in such a state of comfort that you allowed yourself to sing along softly. 

It was weird, you barely knew this man, yet you felt so comfortable around him. Being in his presence was easy. 

Once your headlights illuminated the front of your modest home you felt your heart sink. This was it, your night of bliss was going to end. He threw the truck in park, turning to face where you sat. He opened his mouth, to say what you have no idea because you cut him off before he got the chance to speak. 

“Do you wanna come in?”. 

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

That night had been six weeks ago. And since then you hadn't seen or heard from him once. Not that you had reached out much. The last thing you needed was to make things awkward and complicated with a friend of a friend. 

Only now things were gonna have to be awkward and complicated, it was sorta unavoidable. 

Time paused as you sat there on the bathroom floor. Staring at the pinked-capped stick. Part of you wished you hadn't taken the test, even if that would have just avoided the inevitable for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. 

Your head was reeling as you attempted to comprehend the news. On one hand, you had always wanted to be a mom and had dreamed of it. However part of the dream was a perfect house, a perfect job, and a perfect husband. Someone that loved you and supported you. Having a baby daddy that you hardly knew wasn't exactly in the picture. 

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

At some point your body went on autopilot, you picked yourself off the ground and went through the motions of getting ready for the day. You didn't know what you were getting ready to do, you had already called out after you had woken up before the sun to empty your stomach of last night's dinner. 

The brain fog seemed to slightly lift once you were closing your car door, clutching the steering wheel as your life preserver. The pregnancy test in your pocket feels as if it weighs a thousand pounds. 

You felt insane. 

Who were you to go to this man who you barely knew and just throw this information at him, even if he deserved to know? Because this was his burden too. This wasn't an instance of immaculate conception, it took both of you to get into this situation. 

Recalling an earlier conversation with Emily where you had not so subtly asked what Paul did for work you remembered her mentioning the name of the garage. 

Since today simply could not get more insane you decided to embrace the insanity and started the drive towards the reservation. 

You practiced what you were gonna say over and over, but nothing sounded right. 

“Hey, remember me? I'm the girl you slept with once and ghosted, well I'm pregnant”. 

“Paul, remember me? Y/N, yeah so you kinda got me pregnant”. 

“Hey so remember when I told you that you didn't need a condom, well I say dumb things I don't mean when I’m around pretty people”. 

You were so screwed. 

----------

The parking lot was practically empty because of course, it was. Of course, there wouldn't be enough cars for you to blend in and hide for a little bit to gather your confidence. No besides your car there were only three others, and since you knew that Paul's truck was one of them there was a decent chance that the other two were also employees. The large bay doors of the shop were opening, one of the bays occupied with an old Volvo on the lift. 

Crossing the parking lot, the man of the hour caught your attention. Paul was alone in the garage. Grease and oil covered his hands and forearms as his attention was focused on the car above him. Patting your jacket pocket you made sure your proof was still there. You had only made it about halfway once he spotted you. He did a double take, a minor look of confusion showing. I mean why wouldn't he be confused, you weren't friends and here you were just randomly showing up at his place of business. 

Deciding to pull whatever last shred of confidence you had buried deep down you didn't turn chicken and run back to your car. No, you carried on walking, right up to the edge of his behemoth of a toolbox, slightly leaning on it to gain some support. The nerves make your whole body feel unstable. 

The wrench was abandoned, clattering inside said toolbox and he found a discarded towel that was so dirty it looked like it was only gonna make his hands worse. You couldn't help but study the way his body moved, how he looked in his work clothes, and how his muscles were contracting as he attempted to clean off the grime. Jesus Christ you need to get a hold of yourself, you thought. 

What you didn't notice was he was doing the same to you, looking you up and down searching for a reason as to why you were here. It wasn't until a breeze blew through the garage, that he realized he didn't only smell the dense forest and the various scents of the garage. It carried a faint smell of vanilla and lavender. But it wasn't just that, it was mixed with pine and rosemary. He bristled at the realization, the unique combination meant one thing and one thing only. It had been weeks since he last saw you there’s no way his scent would hang out on you that long unless…

Suddenly nothing else mattered except what you had to say. He wanted to help, to try and make the situation better. So he started to speak, to try and break this ice. But just like you had done weeks prior you beat him to the punch. 

“I’m pregnant”. 

The visible look of relief caused him to calm down, the last thing he wanted in this situation was for you to be stressed out. And the thought of you being so scared to talk to him broke his heart a little bit if he was being honest. 

“Is it mine?”. 

Paul could have ended it all in that moment. Why was he like this? 

He knew it was his, he had definitive proof, and he chose to play the idiot and make the woman who was carrying his child feel worse than she already did. 

“What the hell are you suggesting Paul? Yes it's yours, I wouldn't be telling you if it wasn't”. You crossed your arms across your chest, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable and exposed. The confidence meter has fully run out. 

“Yeah no yeah. That um makes sense, I’m sorry. That was a real jackass thing to say. Of course you wouldn't tell me if it wasn't mine”. Paul rubbed the back of his neck as he rambled, avoiding eye contact with you. The magic inside of him was screaming at him, his instincts to protect almost taking over what little composure he held. 

He hadn't planned on telling you about the bond you shared. At least not for a while. 

You were still kinda new to town, and it wasn't fair to derail your life because you had decided to be a kind person and drop Emily off just a few weeks after you had moved. The bond had set in that day, as he was leaving Emily’s house and heading out to his truck. His eyes had darted up upon hearing Em’s voice and what he hadn't expected was to almost fall flat on his face. 

Because for a split second, the two of you made eye contact, it was fleeting and you had returned your eyes to your friend immediately. It had meant nothing to you and everything to him. 

Since that day he vowed to protect you but also to not act selfish and to allow you to make your own decisions.  Which is why he couldn't help but feel horrible. He had ruined your life. 

Paul thinks back to that night, running his mind over every minute, had you been drunk? He had only used that as an excuse to drive you home. But if you had been too intoxicated to make coherent decisions he would never forgive himself. 

“Yeah that was a real jackass thing to say”, you sniffled proud of yourself for not bursting out into heavy sobs. Because in all honesty while it felt like a physical blow hearing him question your morals he was handling the situation better than you would have if you were in his position. It was a fair question, you had only slept together once. 

The next few minutes seemed to pass slowly. After standing there basking in the awkward silence he told you to wait a second and walked into the attached office. You did as he said, too nervous to take the opportunity and leave. He returned a few moments later with much cleaner hands and a small smile graced his face. God, how you were growing to love that smile. 

“Boss told me to head out for the day, don't worry I only told him that I need to take a certain pretty girl out to lunch”, he sent you a wink as he slammed the lid on the toolbox down. Your cheeks grew warm at the compliment, even with how pg it was. I mean this man got you pregnant but him calling you pretty had your chest hammering. 

His hand found its way to the small of your back as he walked, ushering you out of the garage so he could lower the bay door. Once it was down he turned to face you with a smirk replacing the kind smile from earlier. 

“Come on doll, looks like I gotta feed my baby mama”. He howled with laughter as the small tinge of red on your cheeks turned into your whole face going crimson. “Oh this is gonna be fun”, he said through his laughs. 

His warmth on your skin brought you back to that state of peace that you remembered so fondly. You let him lead you towards his truck, thanking him as he shut your door. 

As Paul jogged to the driver's side a smile fought against the smirk. This wasn't how he pictured everything going but he wasn't mad. It wasn't like he got some random girl pregnant, no he got you pregnant. And while you may believe that you were just a random girl to him that was not how he felt. But he wasn't going to tell you that, at least not right now. The last thing he wanted to do was stress you out even more than you already were. 

So he was going to wait. 

He could learn to be content with you being in his life as a girlfriend, or even just the mother of his child. And when the time was right he would tell you.

But for now, he could wait.

[choerypetal]

Their Princess / Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Summary: Billy and Stu have one motivation for their killing spree: to make you theirs, regardless of whether you realize they are Ghostface. They will stop at nothing to achieve this.

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors xoxo

Being close to Sidney meant enduring her gossip, endless talk about boyfriends, and tantrums over the next party at Tatum's house. Now, with a serial killer on the loose and a mandatory curfew in place, you had to deal with Stu constantly trailing you. Clutching your books to your chest, you tried to focus elsewhere, only to bump into the talk of the town—Billy himself.

"Y/N..." His voice sang in your ear, just enough for Stu to rush to your side, his silhouette eclipsing your own. He leaned in close, nestling into the crook of your neck. You were fortunate that neither Tatum nor Sidney was there to witness it—unless their initial motive was evident from the first glance they shared. A glance of deceit, perhaps, when Stu’s pouty lips appeared as Billy spelled out your name, letter by letter. "Coming to this weekend’s party?" Billy asked, raising his brows while barely breaking his gaze. Stu’s sly fingers brushed your shoulder, tempting you not to react, especially under Billy’s intense stare.

You were taken aback by the question. Yes, Tatum had invited you—practically begged you to come because one of Randy’s friends would be there, and she wanted to set you up with him. Naturally, this information made its way back to Billy, thanks to Stu, who had overheard the entire conversation. His clingy hands were all over Tatum’s, trying to resist thinking about you the whole time.

"That would be great for Y/N, don't you think?" Her innocent question nearly made Stu choke on his drink that night. It was clear, the plan was to make you the grand finale. Not you with someone else. Someone who couldn’t satisfy their girl. Tatum smacked Stu’s chest, startled by his reaction, and nodded innocently with a chuckle. "Right, right," he said, obviously annoyed. "It sure would be great for Y/N." 

“Yes,” you said, your voice as soft as he expected. His lips curved into a smirk, and he bit his bottom lip, resisting the urge to devour you on sight, especially with the new skirt you had bought– thanks to Tatum. “Loving the new skirt,” he whispered, making you blush. Stu eagerly agreed. “Maybe our girl should wear that skirt this weekend,” he purred from behind you, his breath almost touching your skin. Billy quickly snapped Stu out of it with a sharp tap on the back of his neck. “What did we say about public intimacy?” Billy’s voice was almost a threat. 

Stu gulped silently. "Right," he said, smirking in perfect sync with Billy. Billy nodded, his gaze fixed on you, the main topic of this weekend's party conversation. "So," he paused, his eyes scrutinizing you in a way that made you shift uncomfortably—it was the same intense look he gave Sidney. Which you weren’t. "You'll be there?" You had almost forgotten the main question and quickly nodded, feeling vulnerable. Your swift response made him chuckle, clearly enjoying how small you felt between them. “Yes..”

Billy huffed in silence, ready to leave. Stu slid his fingers around your waist. "See you this weekend, princess," he said. Billy, anxious to avoid suspicion, muttered something under his breath, careful not to make any devious stares around the school. Despite hating the idea, he couldn't help but steal glances over his shoulder as he walked away, thoughts of you on top of him driving him nearly crazy. Unlike Stu, though, he had some boundaries when it came to sharing. 

The week flew by faster than you had expected. With the curfew in place, days ended earlier than usual, with bedtime set at 10 p.m. School was canceled until the suspect was caught, leaving you eager for some fresh air and the chance to join the Tatum’s party. The boys, especially Billy, were particularly impatient for your arrival. Particularly him, struggling to keep himself sane through the night, especially with Sidney wrapped around his finger. And you with another guy. 

"Jeez, man, if you keep pacing like this, our plan won't work. You look way too obvious right now," Stu's voice echoed in Billy's mind as he moved to the living room, leaving Sidney waiting in the bedroom. Mistake number one was to be as inconspicuous as possible around everyone. Kill, then execute plans A and B, and finally claim you as theirs. Easy, right? Billy thought to himself. But then your name was called out, and Randy’s arm was a little too close for his liking. He reconsidered. "Randy won't always have her around. Soon enough, she'll come begging for her hero’s to save her," Stu had said, and Billy appreciated the comment. After all, why would you be with a complete nerd?

He nods silently, feeling his friend’s hand squeezing his shoulder. “Deal with Sid. I’ll deal with her. Treat her like the princess she is.” And he wasn’t entirely wrong, focusing all his attention on you. While he noticed Randy welcoming you with open arms and the others happily handing you a bottle of beer. Tatum back at the garage to grab some extra beers. Billy couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction before finally trying to distract himself. He immediately needed a distraction, one with Tatum, then moved on to Sidney. “Just don’t scare her yet, okay?” Even though he was the mastermind of his own plan, he didn’t want Stu—or you—to mess things up. And he definitely didn’t want you to know they were the Ghostface. 

In a way, you kind of messed up their whole plan. Stu was doing everything he could to keep Tatum distracted and maintain Sidney’s obliviousness, as planned. Until you were completely out of his sight. Right after Randy had told you to go check up on Tatum. ‘The beers won’t be coming on their own’, he had said to you with a cocky grin. It wasn’t until you arrived at the garage yourself, hearing some muffled sounds, that you couldn’t help but smirk. With a party full of alcohol, girls, and boys, you didn’t think much of it. That is, until you heard the door swing open and came face to face with Mr. Ghostface, himself.

Billy's knife almost slipped from his hands as he saw you this close to him. Stu had just enough time to catch you, blinking twice to make sure he wasn't imagining things—Billy, and you. You, on the other hand, had a look on your face they both expected to see. "Y/N—" Stu’s voice was cut off by Billy’s stare from beneath his mask. You stood still, but the second you heard Stu’s voice, you wanted to run to him, hoping he would save you from this killer everyone was talking about. But then Billy’s grip tightened, catching you right into his trap.

“No, no, no…” Stu purrs, his sickening chuckle filling the air as he approaches you. Now in the middle, Billy had no pleasure of covering for himself. Because he knew you’d be on their side, meaning you’d do anything possible to avoid getting caught. Starting off with a proposition. “The game, only just started love,” Billy’s voice, unmistakably familiar, came from beneath his mask as he spoke and gently removed it. His face was covered in sweat, his eyes darkening as he glanced down at you. With a slight chuckle, he said, “Love the skirt,” as the knife gently touched the fabric. You could feel Stu’s breath on the crook of your neck. Just like at school, but now away from prying eyes.

You managed to exhale a few whimpers as Stu’s tongue traveled down your neck. Billy watched for a moment, sensing you had something on your mind. “Go on, spill it,” he demanded, his voice hoarse and threatening. Your muscles tensed as he gently pinned you against the wall. “Tatum—” you began, but Billy’s fingers traced down your waist and then touched your bottom lip. The tension between Stu’s pants and your skirt was unmistakable, the obvious bulge appearing beneath his pants. The friction among the three of you was undeniable. Your cheeks flushed with a shade of pink, which only made Billy enjoy it more. “I think she’s enjoying it,” Billy remarked, clearly trying to change the subject. Stu agreed, purring, “Oh, she does.” 

"Boys, boys..." Your voice sounded so vulnerable to their ears that it took them by surprise. Initially, they thought you were afraid of discovering their true identities as Ghostface. However, as you spoke, it became clear that you didn't mind at all. In fact, you might have found Billy in the costume, with a slight droplet of blood on his cheek, somewhat attractive. Stu couldn't help but comment, "Princess doesn't seem to mind?" His remark, tinged with a mix of offense and confession, revealed his surprise at your attraction. Billy's eyes widened slightly, reflecting both shock and amusement as he watched you eyeing him up and down. "Oh, I bet she doesn't, does she?" 

You hummed quietly, drawing chuckles from both men. Billy's knife glided gently down your body, stopping at your skirt to reveal a hint of your red underwear. "Loving the red on you," he remarked with his trademark smirk. Stu, unable to resist, let his fingers travel under your skirt to grip your rear. "How about we treat our princess the way she deserves?" he suggested, his tongue now exploring the crook of your neck, nuzzling and licking every inch until your soft whimpers filled the room. The sounds of your pleasure spurred them on, making them crave more. "Stu..." you murmured his name, and Billy, watching with slight hesitation, hushed you with a gentle touch to your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you hungrily. 

"What?" Stu's obvious teasing wasn't enough. Billy soon caught your lips in a kiss, one he didn't want to end. He wanted more, more than just your lips, resisting was difficult, especially after seeing you with another boy at the party. "More..." you whispered through the kiss, and Billy, catching only a fragment of your plea, paused midway, leaving you breathless and wanting. Your face was flushed with lust, your eyes begging for more. Before you could voice your protest, Billy scooped you into his arms, gripping your arse, his fingers digging into your flesh. Stu's chuckle echoed as he followed you both to the nearest bedroom.

"What?" Stu's obvious teasing wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Billy soon caught your lips in a kiss, one he didn’t want to end. He wanted more—more than just your lips. Resisting was difficult, especially after seeing you with another boy at the party. "More..." you whispered through the kiss. Billy, catching only a fragment of your plea, paused midway, leaving you breathless and wanting. Your face was flushed with lust, your eyes begging for more. Before you could voice your protest, Billy scooped you into his arms, gripping your rear with his fingers digging into your flesh. Stu's chuckle echoed as he followed you both to the nearest bedroom.

Billy’s fingers then traveled around your inner thighs, his thumb gently brushing on your clit. Which he couldn’t stop admire. “Look how tiny it is,” he pouts with a mockery, licking his bottom lip with the resisting urge not to devour you on the spot, which he does completely the contrary. Leaning in to eat you out, his fingers now gripping on your arse, as you moans his name out. His lips curving into a smirk the you felt his tongue gently brushing your clit. “I think she likes it, Billy…” 

Stu's voice echoed in your mind as he settled beside you, his large fingers trailing down your body. He leaned in, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, his tongue tracing your skin, coaxing more moans from you. "Come on, doll. Don't be afraid... Tell me. Tell me how you like it."

"I like it..." you paused momentarily, caught up by another whimper, your back arching as Billy's tongue thrust inside your vagina. "I like it a lot!" you then exclaimed in a high-pitched voice just before Stu leaned in, cupped your chin, and kissed you hungrily.

Billy growled with a pout, “Randy will have to find someone else,” he said, his eyes filled with hunger. His thumb brushed your clit while his tongue devoured you completely. Your eyes watered, pleading for more.

"You belong to us, princess," Stu said, savoring the sight of your now-exposed breasts. He couldn't resist caressing them, pinching your nipples to hear your cute moans. Billy nodded in agreement, both of them murmuring, 

"Our princess."

[pinkmoontaco]

Fake It till We Make It || Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Idol Hyunjin X Actress Y/n Genre: Fluff, Fake relationship Summary: You and Hyunjin are paired for a fake relationship to boost your public image, but what happens when fake sparks turn real?

If you have any request for other members or other groups, feel free to do so

M.list

The sound of your manager’s voice grated against your nerves, filling the small office space with an energy you couldn’t match today.

“You need this,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Your last movie tanked. The press is calling you ‘forgettable.’ Forgettable! We need to change the narrative.”

You leaned back in the leather chair, rubbing your temples. “And you think dating some idol is the solution? This is my career, not a reality show.”

Your manager’s eyes narrowed. “Not just ‘some idol.’ Hyunjin. From Stray Kids. One of the most talked-about stars right now.”

You frowned. You knew who Hyunjin was—everyone did. The golden boy of the K-pop world, known for his striking looks and graceful dancing. But lately, his name had been splashed across tabloids for all the wrong reasons: rumors of diva behavior, an old controversy that resurfaced out of nowhere, and a supposed feud with another idol.

“Why him?” you asked cautiously.

“Because he’s in hot water, too,” she replied, leaning forward. “His team is desperate to clean up his image, and a sweet, wholesome love story will do the trick for both of you. You’ll be trending for weeks. Cute couple photos, red carpet appearances, a few strategically timed interviews. It’s perfect.”

“Perfectly insane,” you muttered, but your manager ignored you.

“His team is already on board. They think you’re a great match. All you have to do is meet him, sign the NDA, and play the part.”

Before you could argue further, the door opened, and your breath caught in your throat. Hyunjin stepped in, radiating a kind of effortless charm that made your argument falter.

He was tall, dressed in a fitted black turtleneck and an oversized blazer, his hair tied back loosely. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, he looked as uncertain as you felt.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft but confident. “So... I hear we’re supposed to fall in love.”

You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “You’re... okay with this?”

Hyunjin shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Not really. But apparently, this is what we need to survive.”

There was a beat of silence before you sighed, leaning forward. “Alright. Let’s get one thing straight. This is a business arrangement. No feelings, no drama. Just stick to the script, and we’ll both get through this.”

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head. “You make it sound so romantic.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. This was going to be a long, long ride.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to take anything seriously. At least, that’s how it felt during your first meeting. As the two of you sat across from each other in a dimly lit conference room, discussing the parameters of your “relationship,” his carefree attitude grated on your nerves.

“Let’s start with the basics,” his PR manager said, flipping through a folder. “How did you two meet?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Hyunjin cut in with a grin. “She saw me at a fan meet, fell in love at first sight, and begged me for my number.”

You blinked at him, unimpressed. “Or” you countered, “we met at an industry party and hit it off after a deep conversation about art and music.”

Hyunjin’s brow arched. “Deep conversation? That’s a little ambitious, don’t you think?”

You resisted the urge to glare. “Well, it’s more believable than me throwing myself at you.”

The PR manager cleared her throat, clearly amused but trying to maintain professionalism. “Let’s meet in the middle. How about you met at a mutual friend’s event? You admired each other’s work, and the connection grew naturally.”

“Fine,” you muttered, avoiding Hyunjin’s amused gaze.

The rest of the meeting was a blur of schedules, photo shoot concepts, and social media strategies. By the time you left, your head was spinning.

“You looked like you were having the time of your life,” Hyunjin teased as he walked you to the door.

You shot him a side-eye. “You’re awfully relaxed about this.”

He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “You get used to it. Pretending is half of what we do anyway.”

The first time you were “spotted” together was at a café, staged to look like a casual date. Cameras clicked from strategic angles as you sipped your latte and pretended to hang on Hyunjin’s every word.

“So,” he said, leaning forward with an easy grin, “do I look like the perfect boyfriend yet?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Do you ever stop joking?”

“Only when I’m asleep.”

Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny he was good at this. He knew how to angle himself for the cameras, how to flash just the right smile to make every photo look candid.

“You’re surprisingly professional,” you admitted, reluctantly impressed.

“Why, thank you,” he said, feigning a bow. “And you? Not bad for someone who claims to hate this idea.”

You didn’t reply, but his words stayed with you.

The first time you saw the cracks in Hyunjin’s carefree façade was during a late-night rehearsal. You had stopped by the JYP practice room to discuss the next day’s schedule, but the sound of music drew you in.

Hyunjin was alone, his movements fluid yet sharp, his expression focused. He didn’t notice you watching until the song ended and he turned, startled.

“Oh. Hey,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow.

“You’re still here?” you asked, stepping closer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Dancing helps.”

There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something raw and unpolished. You hesitated before speaking. “You’re... really good.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. It’s the one thing I know I can do right.

The comment surprised you. For someone who seemed so confident, it was the first time he’d let his insecurities slip through.

“Maybe you’re better at other things than you think,” you said softly, unsure why you felt compelled to comfort him.

He looked at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe.”

Weeks passed, and the lines between performance and reality began to blur. You spent more time together than apart, attending events, sharing meals, and even rehearsing your “love story” for interviews.

Hyunjin’s teasing became less sharp, and your walls began to lower. You found yourself laughing at his jokes, seeking his opinion on things you never thought to share.

One evening, during a quiet moment on a hotel balcony, he turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you ever think about what happens when this ends?”

The question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... this. Us. Pretending to be something we’re not.”

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I try not to think about it. It’s easier that way.”

He nodded, his gaze distant. “Yeah. Me too.”

For the first time, the thought of “the end” left an ache in your chest.

The two of you sat in an unfamiliar green room, waiting for your turn on a late-night talk show. Hyunjin was scrolling on his phone, while you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your dress. The show was known for playful interviews that often led to viral moments.

“You’ll be fine,” Hyunjin said, his tone unusually gentle.

You looked up at him, surprised by his sincerity. “What?”

“You’ve been messing with that dress for the past ten minutes,” he said, nodding toward your hands. “Relax. You’re a natural at this stuff.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Hardly. This whole fake dating thing has me second-guessing everything.”

Hyunjin set his phone down, his expression softening. “Look, just follow my lead. They love us together.”

His confidence was reassuring, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to trust him.

When it was your turn onstage, Hyunjin kept his promise. He answered questions with practiced ease, throwing in playful remarks that made the audience laugh. When the host asked about your “relationship,” Hyunjin reached over to take your hand.

“It’s been amazing,” he said, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room.

For a moment, the world seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you. The warmth of his hand, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled—it felt real.

And that terrified you.

After the show, you found yourselves walking back to the hotel, the cool night air refreshing after hours under studio lights. Hyunjin, still buzzing with energy, suggested a detour.

“There’s this rooftop I go to sometimes,” he said. “The view’s incredible.”

You hesitated but eventually agreed. A short elevator ride later, you were standing atop a quiet rooftop overlooking the city. The lights stretched endlessly, a shimmering sea of color and life.

“Wow,” you murmured, leaning against the railing.

“Right?” Hyunjin joined you, his voice softer now. “It’s one of the few places that makes me feel... small, in a good way.”

You glanced at him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “Do you ever miss being just... normal?”

“All the time,” he admitted. “But then I think about the people who believe in me, who find comfort in what I do. That makes it worth it.”

His words resonated with you, and for the first time, you saw past the idol persona. This wasn’t Hyunjin the star—this was just Hyunjin, a young man trying to make sense of his place in the world.

As the two of you stood there, sharing quiet thoughts under the stars, you felt something shift. The lines between what was fake and what was real began to blur even further.

The turning point came during a gala event. You were dressed to the nines, smiling politely as you mingled with industry elites. Hyunjin stayed close, his presence a steadying force.

Then your co-star, Eric, appeared. He was charming and overconfident, and he wasted no time pulling you into a conversation.

Hyunjin, watching from a distance, felt a strange pang in his chest as he saw you laughing at Eric’s jokes. He told himself it was all part of the act—after all, this wasn’t real.

But when Eric leaned in a little too close, Hyunjin found himself walking over.

“Hey,” he said smoothly, slipping an arm around your waist. “Everything okay here?”

You blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden possessiveness. “Yeah, we were just—”

Great,” Hyunjin cut in, his smile tight. “But we should probably get back to the table. They’re about to announce the next award.”

Eric raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. As Hyunjin led you away, his hand lingering at your waist, you couldn’t help but notice the tension in his jaw.

“Was that necessary?” you asked once you were out of earshot.

Hyunjin didn’t meet your eyes. “Probably not.”

You studied him, a flicker of understanding dawning. Was he... jealous?

That night, back at the hotel, you knocked on Hyunjin’s door. He opened it, looking surprised to see you.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

He stepped aside, letting you in. The room was dimly lit, and the atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken words.

“What’s going on?” you asked, crossing your arms. “You’ve been acting... strange.”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” you challenged. “Because it sure seemed like you were about to deck Eric earlier.”

His gaze finally met yours, and for the first time, you saw hesitation there. “I guess I just didn’t like seeing him flirt with you.”

“Why?” you pressed, your heart pounding.

He hesitated, then sighed. “Because maybe this doesn’t feel so fake anymore.”

The confession hung between you, leaving you breathless

Hyunjin’s words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, trying to process what he has just said.

“This doesn’t feel so fake anymore,” he repeated, softer this time, like he was testing the words himself.

You shook your head, stepping back instinctively. “Hyunjin, we can’t... This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I know,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “But maybe it was inevitable. We’ve spent so much time together—”

“It’s an act,” you interrupted, more forcefully than you intended. “That’s all it is. We agreed from the beginning: no feelings, no drama.”

He flinched at your words, his expression clouding. “Right. No feelings.”

You could see the hurt in his eyes, but you forced yourself to turn away. You couldn’t afford to let this become real. Not when your careers, your reputations—everything—was on the line.

“I should go,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin didn’t stop you, and that made it worse.

After that night, things changed. Hyunjin became distant, his playful demeanor replaced by quiet professionalism. You told yourself this was for the best—that keeping your distance would make it easier to maintain the illusion without getting tangled in your emotions.

But it didn’t feel easier.

The staged dates, the red-carpet appearances, even the candid moments for the cameras—all of it felt emptier now. You missed the way Hyunjin used to tease you, the way he could make you laugh even when you didn’t want to.

It wasn’t until a fan event, weeks later, that the tension finally boiled over.

A fan asked Hyunjin about your relationship, and he gave his usual charming answer, but there was a noticeable edge to his tone. Afterward, when you were alone backstage, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“What’s your problem?” you snapped.

Hyunjin turned to you, his expression unreadable. “My problem? I’m just doing what you wanted—keeping it professional.”

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling over. “You don’t have to be so cold about it!”

He let out a bitter laugh. “What do you want from me? You were the one who said this was just an act.”

“I didn’t mean—” You stopped yourself, realizing you didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Hyunjin stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “What didn’t you mean?”

Your breath hitched. For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the crowd outside.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling.

Hyunjin’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly. “Not if it’s going to hurt like this.”

The tension between you and Hyunjin came to a head during a joint interview. The host, sensing the awkwardness, asked a question that caught both of you off guard.

“What’s the most unexpected thing you’ve learned about each other?”

Hyunjin hesitated, glancing at you before answering. “She’s a lot stronger than she gives herself credit for.”

His words took you by surprise. For the first time in weeks, you saw a glimpse of the Hyunjin you’d gotten to know—the one who saw past your walls and made you feel seen.

When it was your turn to answer, you found yourself speaking without thinking. “He’s not as carefree as he seems

Hyunjin’s eyes met yours, and in that moment, something shifted.

Later that night, after the interview, you found yourself standing outside Hyunjin’s hotel room. Your heart raced as you knocked on the door, unsure of what you were going to say but knowing you couldn’t leave things as they were.

He opened the door, his expression wary but hopeful. “Hey.”

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He stepped aside, letting you in. The room was quiet, the air heavy with unspoken words.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, your hands twisting nervously. “About what you said… about how this doesn’t feel fake anymore.”

Hyunjin watched you carefully, his eyes searching yours. “And?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “You’re right. It doesn’t feel fake. At least, not to me.”

His eyes widened, a flicker of hope breaking through his guarded expression. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m scared,” you admitted. “But I don’t want to keep pretending like this doesn’t mean anything. Because it does. You do.”

For a moment, Hyunjin didn’t say anything. Then, without warning, he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You clung to him, tears pricking at your eyes. “You didn’t.”

The next day, when you stepped out together for another staged appearance, something was different. The smiles, the hand-holding, the lingering glances—they weren’t for the cameras anymore.

They were for each other.

And this time, it was real.

The first kiss happened unexpectedly. It wasn’t during a red-carpet event or a photo shoot—it was in the quiet of your apartment, after a long day.

Hyunjin had stopped by to drop off some documents your managers wanted you to review together. You were sitting on the couch, bickering playfully over the wording of a statement when Hyunjin suddenly went quiet.

“What?” you asked, glancing up.

He was looking at you with that soft, unreadable expression he often had when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just... You look really beautiful right now.”

Your cheeks burned, and you let out a nervous laugh. “Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he said, leaning closer. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and your breath hitched.

The kiss was soft and hesitant at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, Hyunjin deepened it, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips moved against yours.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless.

“That wasn’t in the script,” you murmured, trying to hide your smile.

Hyunjin grinned. “Maybe we should improvise more often.”

If you thought the kiss marked a turning point in your relationship, the real test came when the rest of Stray Kids found out.

It happened during a casual group hangout at their dorm. You and Hyunjin had been careful to keep your relationship private, but apparently, not careful enough.

“You two are acting weird,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes as he watched you and Hyunjin sit suspiciously far apart on the couch.

“Weird how?” Hyunjin asked, feigning innocence.

“Weird as in, you’re trying too hard not to look at each other,” Seungmin chimed in, smirking.

Before you could deny it, Changbin leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wait a second. Did something happen between you two?”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Yes, something happened.”

Weeks after the public reveal, life settled into a new rhythm. You and Hyunjin were still navigating the world as a couple, balancing the constant demands of work and your blossoming relationship. The attention from fans and the media was overwhelming at times, but you had each other to lean on.

One quiet afternoon, you were at a cafe, sharing a rare moment of peace away from the chaos. Hyunjin was sitting across from you, fiddling with his phone while you sipped on your iced coffee. The soft hum of conversation and the sound of clinking cups created a comforting atmosphere.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Hyunjin said, looking up from his phone.

“Uh-oh,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. “I’m serious, okay? We’ve been at this for a while now faking it, being real, all of it. But... I want more. I want to know what it’s like when there’s no pressure. No cameras, no fans, just you and me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “More?” you repeated, your voice soft.

He nodded, setting his phone aside. “Yeah. More dates without anyone watching. More lazy days where we can just be ourselves. I want to take this slow, but also, I don’t want to waste any more time pretending it’s not real.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tight. “I want that too,” you whispered.

The smile he gave you in return made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. The simple gesture felt more meaningful than any grand declaration.

“Then it’s settled,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “No more pretending. Just us.”

And as you left the cafe, hand in hand, it felt like the first step toward truly being yourselves—no more masks, no more facades.

Of course, even though you and Hyunjin were more serious than ever, that didn’t mean the teasing from the members stopped. If anything, it got worse.

One evening, after a long day of practice, the Stray Kids members were all lounging around in the dorm, taking a break. You and Hyunjin had just come back from a walk, still holding hands when you entered the living room.

“Look who it is, the couple of the century,” Changbin teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Hyunjin grumbled, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “You guys are the worst.”

Felix grinned, giving you a knowing look. “We just need to see if you two are as cute off-camera as you are on. I’m still waiting for a public kiss, you know.”

You shot him a glare, but Hyunjin wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Maybe we’ll give you a kiss when you stop being so nosy,” he said, his voice teasing.

“Oh, that’s it,” Han chimed in, making a face. “I’m going to vomit.”

You laughed, your hand slipping into Hyunjin’s as you sat down beside him. “You’re all insufferable.”

“They just want to see how sweet you two are together,” Seungmin said with a smirk. “But I have to admit, it’s nice to see Hyunjin like this. He’s never been this... open.”

your heart fluttered at his words, and you looked up at Hyunjin, who was now giving Seungmin an exaggerated side-eye. “Don’t make it sound like I was some mystery,” he said, though the grin on his face betrayed him.

You smiled softly, feeling your heart swell at the thought of how far the two of you had come. What started as a simple arrangement had evolved into something deeper, something real, and the teasing, while relentless, only made it feel more genuine.

One rainy afternoon, as you were curled up on the couch in your apartment, Hyunjin walked in with an envelope in hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What's this?” you asked, sitting up and eyeing him curiously.“It’s a surprise,” he said with a wink, handing you the envelope.

Inside was a ticket for a private art exhibit that was being held at a museum in the city. The exhibit was a collection of works from various contemporary artists, and it was known for being intimate, with only a handful of people allowed in at a time.

“I got us tickets,” Hyunjin said, his voice soft. “I know you love art, and I thought it’d be a good way to spend some time together, away from everything else.”

Your heart melted. “Hyunjin, this is so thoughtful.”

He smiled, looking pleased with himself. “I figured it would be something different. Plus, we get to walk around the exhibit hand-in-hand without worrying about paparazzi or cameras.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “You really do know how to surprise me.”

As the two of you spent the afternoon wandering through the quiet halls of the museum, talking about the paintings and sculptures that caught your eye, you felt the world outside fade away. It was just the two of you, sharing something special, and it felt perfect.

Later that evening, after a quiet dinner, Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment, his hand still holding yours tightly.

“Thanks for today,” you said, your voice soft as you glanced up at him. “It was one of the best days I’ve had in a while.”

Hyunjin smiled down at you, his eyes warm and full of affection. “I’m glad. I’ll always find ways to make you happy.”

And as he kissed you gently under the dim light of your apartment hallway, you knew he meant every word.

Months passed, and your relationship with Hyunjin only grew stronger. There were still moments of teasing from the members, still the occasional bout of nerves before public appearances, but through it all, you both knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t just an act anymore.

One evening, as the two of you sat together on the rooftop of the dorm, gazing out at the city lights, Hyunjin turned to you with a serious expression.

“You know,” he began, his voice thoughtful, “when we first started this, I never thought we’d end up here. But now, I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you reached over, taking his hand. “Me neither,” you said softly. “I think I’ve always known it was real, even if I didn’t want to admit it.”

Hyunjin smiled, leaning in to kiss you. “Then let’s make it real—forever.”

As you kissed him, the world around you faded, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The End... or perhaps just the beginning.

[mistywaves98]

SCUMMY NERD SCARA >>>

🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐 SUCH A STALKER OUR STALKER AND GOSH WHEN HE FINDS OUT HIS BULLY (US) IS PURE OH OH HES FERAL <3333

I had this in the works for months... And I just can't bring myself to actually finish it 😭 So forgive me for this being a total unfinished cliffhanger..

✧･ﾟ:* ->Loser Nerd! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Sub! Reader, Don't question the lame plot, Just a lot of touching, No penetration, It's unfinished 😭!

Scaramouche felt his whole world become brighter after stumbling across the fact that you were a virgin. By totally normal means and definitely not because he was eavesdropping on a conversation you had with your friends. Now instead of this (mildly) intimidating woman that (tried) to make his life hell, he merely saw a pure girl that was just waiting for someone to taint her mind and pussy. And that person was definitely going to be him.

You were giving him a hard time as usual in the dorm you two were doomed to share, almost yelling at him for making the dinner he offered you too hot. He didn't mind the shouting really, if anything he was getting a tent in his pants from the frown on your face. You had no idea how fuckable you looked at that moment, and the fact you never had sex kept going through his mind, urging him to act on his desires.

Which he did. Walking up to you, he got closer and closer till he had you pinned against the counter. The mix of confusion and slight fear on your face as your arguing grew quieter made him smile as he leaned in till your noses brushed each other. His voice was low and sultry, leaving no doubt as to what his intentions were,"You're so worked up over what we'll eat... What if we just had each other for dinner?"

You were completely taken aback by his sudden suggestion but once the realization set in, a dark blush which he found absolutely adorable exploded across your face as you pointed an accusing finger at him, immediately throwing insults his way and calling him a dirty-minded pervert and other names of such nature. They only had the opposite effect, making him more determined as he suddenly shut you up with a kiss, pushing your bodies together and grinding his clothed erection against your thigh.

Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull away, hands flying up to hold his shoulders as his tongue slithered its way into your mouth, making you moan. This increases his confidence as his hands slid under your loose top to push your bra up so he could grope and knead your soft breasts. The stimulation makes blood rush to your clit, making it throb. After a long little make out, Scaramouche pulls back, admiring the way your face flushes as you pant,"You look so cute, you know that? So breedable, makes me wanna impale that virgin pussy with my cock.."

His bold words nearly make you choke on your own saliva, but he doesn't give you a chance to answer as his hands are already slipping into the waistband of your panties. You inhale sharply as his fingers find your clit, rubbing and rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between the pads of his finger tips. His eyes gleam as he watches you struggle to keep your composure, hips bucking against his hand as soft whimpers slipped through your lips.

By the time he removes his hand, his digits are covered in your arousal. The sight makes him blank out for a moment, simply staring at the way the slick drips from them. In return you get embarrassed at the way his shameless ogling despite the throbbing in your lower region,"Scara...don't ignore me..." Your voice breaks him out of his trance and he almost laughs at the need in your voice. So adorable, begging for his attention like that.

Scaramouche thinks he'll go insane if he doesn't get a taste of your pussy right here, right now, so his hands are quick to remove your pants and soaked panties. He almost drools at the sight of your dripping pussy laid bare for him, his cock throbbing against the confines of the denim material of his jeans, urging him to undo the zipper. He pulls his boxers and jeans down just enough to let his dick spring free, the impressive length making your eyes widen slightly. How are you going to fit something of that size??

As if reading your mind, Scaramouche brings up a hand to cup your cheek, thumb soothing the soft skin,"Don't worry, I'll be gentle... At first, anyway."

[jianwon]

Hiii! Could u do a roommate or best friend semi who secretly likes you however u have a lover so she doesn't show her feelings too much and maybe u had a fight/broke up with them so semi comforts you? You can choose how to end this! (also doesnt have to be smut)

CLOSER THAN YOU THINK — player 380

sypnosis. when se-mi moves in with y/n, their unlikely friendship grows into something deeper. as y/n faces heartbreak, se-mi’s unwavering support reveals that love might have been beside her all along.

content—roommate!se-mi x fem!reader. pure fluff. mild angst. reader has a boyfriend. emotional distress. one-sided love. mentions of squid game characters.

wordcount. 3.2k words

when se-mi first moved into the dorm apartment with you, she had no idea how much her life was about to change.

at first, their dynamic had been straightforward. se-mi was the quiet, reserved type who preferred to spend her evenings locked in her room, practicing new tunes on her bass guitar, while y/n was the friendly, energetic whirlwind who could strike up a conversation with anyone, and anywhere.

“you’re going to love it here,” you had said on your first day together, your smile radiant as you unpacked boxes together. “i just know we’re going to be the best of friends!” se-mi had smiled politely, unsure of what to expect. but as the weeks turned into months, she found herself drawn to your warmth.

you had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel special. whether it was dragging se-mi to the convenience store for late-night snacks or convincing her to sing in the living room to terrible pop songs, you just had a knack for pulling se-mi out of her shell.

se-mi, in turn, became a quiet anchor in your life. she was the one who stayed up with you during stressful exam weeks, making you coffee and offering soft reassurances. she was the one who listened without judgment when you needed to vent about your problems.

somewhere along the way, se-mi realized her feelings for you had grown into something deeper. but by then, it was too late. you were already taken by someone else.

the apartment was already alive with the smell of coffee and the soft hum of music drifting from the kitchen when you stumbled out of your room, your hair a tousled mess.

“morning, sunshine,” se-mi’s voice floated over from the kitchen, smooth and calm, as if she hadn’t been awake for hours. you yawned, dragging your feet toward the source of the smell. “morning,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

se-mi stood at the counter, her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back in a loose half-up ponytail. she was frying eggs while keeping an eye on the toaster. “you’re up early,” you noted, leaning against the counter.

se-mi glanced at her, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “someone has to keep this place running while you sleep like a log,” she teased. you stuck your tongue out. “excuse me for needing beauty rest.”

se-mi chuckled, setting a plate of toast and eggs in front of you. “you’re already cute enough. no need to overdo it.” you could feel your cheeks burn, and quickly focused on the food. “shut up.." your voice barely above a whisper.

you ate breakfast together, your conversation light and easy as you talked about your plans for the day. se-mi couldn’t help but steal glances at you, who seemed to glow in the morning light.

afterward, you settled into your usual weekend routine. you dragged se-mi out to a nearby park for a walk, chattering away about a funny incident at uni while se-mi listened with a small smile.

"you’re not even paying attention!” you accused, poking se-mi’s arm. “i am,” se-mi replied smoothly. “your classmate tripped on his own shoelaces and blamed it on your laptop charger.”you laughed, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “okay, fine. you’re listening.”

the day passed in a blur of shared moments. groceries, laundry, a quick detour to your favorite café for iced drinks. everything about your routine felt natural, comforting, like pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together.

the dorm apartment was unusually still, the soft hum of the city outside the only sound filling the quiet. se-mi sat on the couch, her legs stretched out lazily as she scrolled aimlessly through her phone. her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, a faint crease forming on her otherwise calm face.

7:30 pm. you were supposed to be home two hours ago.

her thumb hovered over her phone screen, considering whether to text, but she resisted. instead, she locked her phone and leaned her head back against the couch. the silence felt heavier than usual, and though se-mi would never admit it out loud, she hated the way the apartment felt so empty when you weren't around.

both of you had planned this evening all week. pizza, your favorite show, and a late-night chat about anything and everything. se-mi had looked forward to it more than she cared to admit. but the way time dragged on hinted at what she already suspected: you weren't coming home on time.

the faint sound of keys jingling reached her ears, and se-mi immediately sat up straighter, her cool expression slipping back into place. the door clicked open, and there you were. you stepped inside, your usual cheerful energy noticeably dimmed.

“you’re late,” se-mi said, her tone light but sharp enough to convey her displeasure. she leaned back against the couch, feigning nonchalance even as her eyes lingered on your face.

you paused mid-step, a sheepish grin forming instantly. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, se-mi.” closing the door behind you, placing your bag on the counter. “my boyfriend wanted to introduce me to his friends, and, well… i couldn’t say no.”

him.

se-mi didn’t let her smile falter, though the familiar pang of disappointment twisted in her chest. she shrugged, crossing her arms casually. “it’s fine,” she replied, her tone cool, though it wasn’t. “guess the show can wait another day, it's late.”

you plopped down on the couch beside her, leaning close enough that se-mi could feel the faint warmth radiating from you. the proximity was both comforting and torturous.

"i really am sorry,” you said softly, tilting your head to meet se-mi’s gaze. “i’ll make it up to you. promise.”

se-mi chuckled, the sound low and teasing. “you always say that,” she murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. her fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary before pulling away. “but i guess i can’t stay mad at you. you’re lucky you’re cute.” you laughed, cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “you’re the best, se-mi. seriously.”

se-mi simply smirked, but her heart ached in ways she couldn’t control.

this wasn’t the first time you had canceled plans because of your boyfriend, and se-mi doubted it would be the last. it had become a pattern: you would enthusiastically make plans with se-mi, only to break them at the last minute when your boyfriend demanded your time instead.

se-mi had grown used to the disappointment, though that didn’t make it sting any less. it wasn’t just about the canceled plans, it was about the way your boyfriend treated you. se-mi had seen it firsthand. the dismissive comments, the controlling behavior, the way he always seemed to chip away at your bright energy.

and yet, se-mi never said a word. she knew her place.

late at night, when the apartment was quiet and you were asleep in your room, se-mi would stare at the ceiling, imagining a different reality. one where you weren't with someone who didn’t deserve you. one where you saw her, truly saw her as more than just a friend.

but that was just wishful thinking.

it was late in the evening when your phone buzzed on the coffee table. you glanced at the screen and sighed, your shoulders slumping.

nam-gyu.

“your boyfriend?” se-mi asked, her voice neutral but her gaze sharp. you nodded, picking up the phone but hesitating before unlocking it. se-mi could see the conflict in your eyes.

“what’s wrong?” se-mi asked softly, setting her guitar down and turning her full attention to you. biting your lip, your fingers tightening around the phone. floods of ranging messages overtaking your screen.

“he’s mad at me,” you admitted. se-mi raised an eyebrow. “why?”

"i don’t know,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “he just… he says i don’t make enough time for him. that i’m always with you instead.” se-mi’s heart clenched at the words. she had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed still stung.

“i don’t understand,” you continued, voice breaking. “i try so hard to balance everything, to make him happy, but it’s never enough.”

se-mi reached out, gently placing a hand over your hand. “hey,” she said softly. “it’s not your obligation to make him happy all the damn time. if he can’t appreciate how amazing you are, that’s on him, not you.” your eyes filled with tears, and she quickly wiped them away.

“you’re always so supportive,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

se-mi swallowed hard, her heart aching for her friend. “you deserve someone who makes you feel like you’re enough,” she said quietly, her thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. "i’m just tired.." you whispered, leaning into se-mi’s touch.

se-mi nodded, her hand tightening slightly. “then rest,” she said softly. “i’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.” you nodded, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

you leaned against se-mi’s shoulder, and both of you sat like that for a long time, the silence between you filled with quiet understanding.

you stared at the darkened phone screen, chest tightening with a mix of relief and ache. the quiet of your room suddenly felt suffocating, the weight of nam-gyu's words still hanging in the air. drawing in a shaky breath, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.

for a moment, you didn’t move, your mind replaying the conversation over and over again. you had known for a long time that things between you and nam-gyu weren’t right, but hearing the words aloud "you know what? we’re done." made it all feel real in a way you weren't sure you were ready for.

a soft knock at your door broke the silence. “y/n?” se-mi’s voice called gently from the other side. “i heard you shouting from across the living room, is everything okay?”

you hesitated, fingers brushing over the phone in your lap before setting it aside. “yeah,” you said, your voice unsteady. “just… give me a minute.”

there was a pause, and then se-mi responded, her voice quieter. “i’m here if you need me.”

you closed her eyes, the tears finally spilling over. the warmth in se-mi’s words was a stark contrast to the coldness you had just experienced. you wiped your cheeks quickly, not wanting to let the weight of the conversation linger any longer than it already had.

a minute later, you opened the door to find se-mi standing there, her brow furrowed with concern. “what’s wrong?” se-mi asked, her voice soft but steady.

shaking your head, trying to muster a smile. “it’s nothing. nam-gyu and i had a fight... again."

“what did he say?” se-mi’s expression darkened slightly, her jaw tightening. “it doesn’t matter,” you said quickly, stepping aside to let se-mi in. “it’s over now. we’re over.”

se-mi’s eyes widened, and she immediately reached out, resting a comforting hand on your arm. “are you okay?” you let out a shaky laugh, brushing at her face again. “i don’t know. i think so? i mean… it’s probably for the best, right?”

se-mi didn’t respond right away. instead, she guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, sitting beside you. “if it’s what you decided, then yeah, it’s for the best,” she said firmly. “but it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt.”

you nodded, lips trembling as you tried to keep yourself together. “it’s just… he made me feel like everything was my fault. like i was the reason we weren’t working.”

“he’s wrong,” se-mi said immediately, her voice sharp in a way you didn’t hear often. “you’ve done nothing but try to make that relationship work. if he couldn’t see that, that’s on him.”

the conviction in se-mi’s voice brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time, they didn’t feel as heavy. you let out a deep breath.

“thank you..” you whispered.

se-mi didn’t reply right away, but her arm came up to wrap gently around your shoulders, holding you close. “you don’t have to thank me,” she murmured. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n. no matter what.” and for the first time that night, you felt like you could finally breathe.

"you’re going to be okay,” se-mi said, her voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded slowly, the weight on your chest easing with every word se-mi spoke. “it’s just… i gave so much to that relationship, you know?” you said, your voice cracking. “and it still wasn’t enough.”

se-mi’s hand dropped to yours, her fingers curling around it in a reassuring grip. “that’s because he didn’t know how to appreciate you,” she said, her tone firm. “you gave him everything, i've seen it all and that’s why, it's not your fault.”

your fingers tightened around se-mi’s as you let out a shaky breath. “you always know what to say,” you murmured. “that’s because i care about you,” se-mi replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “more than you realize.”

the words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. your eyes searching se-mi’s face. “se-mi…”

se-mi’s smile faltered slightly, but she held your gaze. “i just… i hate seeing you hurt,” she admitted. “you deserve to be with someone who makes you feel loved. who puts you first.”

as both of you sat there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence, the weight of the past began to fade, replaced by the quiet, unshakable hope of something new.

over the next few weeks, se-mi devoted herself to helping you heal. she dragged you out for walks in the park, tried every café in town, and even endured cheesy romantic comedies just to see you smile again.

one afternoon, as you wandered through a small bookstore, se-mi handed you a novel. “this one’s about a girl who finally realizes the perfect person for her was in front of her all along,” she said with a sly smile.

you rolled her eyes but took the book. “are you trying to make me cry again?”

“maybe,” se-mi teased, her smirk softening into something warmer. “or maybe I’m just reminding you of something important.”

it had been months since your breakup. the apartment had regained most of its usual warmth, though there was still a lingering heaviness in the air.

se-mi had been patient, giving you space to heal while quietly supporting you in every way she could. but tonight felt different. there was a nervous energy coursing through se-mi’s veins, an urgency she couldn’t quite explain.

you were both sitting on the couch, the faint glow of the television casting soft shadows across your faces. a bowl of popcorn sat forgotten, and you were laughing at something on the screen.

se-mi wasn’t paying attention to the show. her eyes were fixed on you, her heart pounding in her chest.

“y/n.." she said, her voice cutting through the laughter. you turned to her, your smile fading slightly at the seriousness in se-mi’s tone. “what's up?” se-mi hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

she had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her head, but now that it was here, the words felt heavy on her tongue.

“i-i need to tell you something,” she began, her voice quieter than usual. “and i need you to promise you’ll hear me out.”

your brows furrowed in concern, shifting closer to se-mi. “of course. what’s going on?” se-mi took a deep breath, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. "i like you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “more than a friend.” you blinked, your eyes widening. “you… what?”

“i've liked you for a long time,” se-mi continued, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “probably longer than i should have. but i didn’t say anything because you were with someone else, and i didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

her gaze dropped to her lap, unable to meet your eyes. “but i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way. not when i see you every day, and not when i know how much better i could treat you if you’d just let me.”

the room was silent except for the faint hum of the television. se-mi’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “se-mi… i-i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” se-mi said quickly, lifting her head to meet your gaze. “i just… i just needed you to know. and no matter what you decide, i'll still be here for you. always.”

your expression was a mix of emotions. confusion, surprise, and something else that se-mi couldn’t quite place. slowly, a small, tentative smile began to form on your lips. “you're so stupidly perfect, you know that?” you said softly, leaning closer.

se-mi blinked, caught off guard. “what?” you chuckled, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “you're always there for me. always putting me first, even when you don’t have to. it's hard not to notice, se-mi.” se-mi’s breath hitched, her heart soaring. “does that mean…?”

you raised a hand, gently brushing your fingers against se-mi’s cheek. “i don’t know yet,” you admitted, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “but i promise i'll think about it. i just… need time.”

se-mi nodded, her throat tight with emotion. “take all the time you need.” you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to se-mi’s cheek, lingering for just a moment before pulling away. “thank you,” you whispered, smiling warmly.

se-mi’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. “of course.”

the days that followed were different. there was a subtle shift in the air between the both of you, a new kind of tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

se-mi found herself hyper-aware of every little moment. every time your hands brushed, every shared glance, every teasing comment that lingered just a bit too long. you seemed to notice it too. you started seeking se-mi out more often, your smiles softer, your laughter brighter.

your “friend” dates became more frequent, and se-mi couldn’t help but notice how you would lean into her touch just a little more than before.

one afternoon, as you sat in your favorite café, se-mi caught you staring at her. "what?” se-mi asked, raising an eyebrow. you shook her head, a small smile playing on your lips. “nothing. just… thinking.”

“about what?” you hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “about how lucky i am to have you.” se-mi’s heart skipped a beat, but she managed to keep her cool. “you better be,” she teased, smirking. “i'm not this nice to just anyone, you know."

you laughed, the sound warm and familiar. and for the first time in a long while, se-mi allowed herself to hope.

a/n—thank you so much for the request anon! i genuinely had so much fun writing this! i hope this meets your expectations, enjoy reading :3

[bblgeum]

𐔌 how to fake a concussion ─  park hu-mi  𐦯

⟡ ﹒ in which ⌇ park hu-min was loud. annoying. irratating. reckless. but somehow, it was kind of hot?

⟡ ﹒ content⌇ gn reader, enemies to loves, baku is clingy, fluff, crack

⟡ ﹒ listen to⌇ cat & dog - tomorrow by together

park-hu min pissed you off. he was loud, irratating, reckless, and ridiculously stupid - not to mention his annoyed grin, teasing, dark hooded eyes that didn't let on more then they showed, and those muscles - not that you were paying attention, of course!

realistically, you knew park hu-min, or baku as he was known as, was everything you weren't; you were straight to the point, no-nonsense, carefull in everything you did. he friendly, strong, stunning... you hypothesize that was the reason he pissed you off.

so, when you were absolutly taken out by a basketball flying about 80 mph, you were far from happy. it went straight for your head, making you yelp in pain. were his arms a slingshot or something?

now, realistically, it didn't hurt that much. well, it did, but you definatly exaggerated the next part. you throw yourself off of the stairs you were sitting on, screaming out in pain - causing everyone to jump and stare at you - faking some tears. it was pretty believeable, you liked to think.

baku immediatly looks up, grimacing. as he sees you drop down the stairs, his jaw hangs open. go-tak - slightly more tolerable - burst out laughing at baku's expense. baku immediatly hides behind his friend, looking very afraid of your wrath.

─  "someone- someone help me i think i have a concussion!" you whine out, "..it.. hurts so much!"

baku looks towards his friend with a certain fear in his eyes as he hears the word 'concussion'. he slowly steps towards you with his eyes glued to his feet. making it in front of you, he bends down and nudges you sadly, like a kid who dropped their lolipop.

─  "please, don't be dead i promise it was an accident- wait, ill take you to the nurse!"

eyes shooting open, you freeze as he carries you, princess style. your head presses against his chest. and hell, he was jacked.. luckily, he didn't notice your flushed face. he's spiraling, something about how he couldn't control his strength and that he'd pay you back, make it up to you.. kind of hard to focus as you just stare at his adorable - sorry, you mean, repulsing face...

much to your dismay, the next few days, it was as if you had a puppy dog following you wherever you went - baku decided that he would be your 'pet'. in class, he'd tug on your hair, whispering your name over and over, scribbling apologies on peices of paper. during lunch, he'd ditch his friends and plop his tray down right next to you, starting conversations you weren't listening to.

halfway through one of his tangents, you groan and slap your hand over his mouth. his mouth was full of rice and chicken.. disgusting. he muffles a protest, easily prying your hand off of him... hot.

─  "why.. why're you just- following me around, huh?! your acting like a lost puppy, hu-min!"

─  "hey, didn't i tell you to call me baku?" completely ignoring your question, he pinches your cheeks a little to hard.

you groan, trying to get his hands off of you, no luck. seeing your futile attempts, he breaks into a wide grin.

─  "aw, thats cute. keep trying!"

─  "hey! don't call me tha- hmpff!"

in the span of a second, another student - unrelated - had tripped onto where the two of you were sitting - leaving you to be pressed against the cafeteria floor, baku, all his weight, ontop of you... this included his lips. your face looses all color, eyes zipping towards the student, who had run away already.

you sigh. why'd you have to fake that concussion?

tbc?

author's note: eekk thanks for all the support <3 should i make this a series? also not proofread lol

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part V)

You are forcibly summoned to Teyvat via dream trawling for answers. A long awaited discussion ensues...

Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader;

Word Count: 1.4k

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Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom; @tired-of-life-86; @fantasyhopperhea; @sweetsourbxtch;

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After you had decided you were no longer going to play Genshin Impact, you felt as if a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders. Had the past few weeks really taken that much out of you?

"I suppose it did," you assumed as you were playing another game with your friend group. "I haven't felt this relieved in a long while."

You and your friend group spent many hours talking, laughing, raging, and sharing memes. When you noticed it was just past midnight, you felt that it was the best time to get some sleep. You bid goodbye to your friends, closed your computer, and went to take a quick shower.

While in the shower, thoughts began to ruminate in your head. "It's gonna be hard for me to find another game that will get me addicted as much as Genshin did. But maybe something in my backlog might work for now."

The thoughts continued after the shower, after brushing your teeth, and after getting in bed. "I almost forget what game I was playing before I started Genshin. Was it something I finished? If not, maybe I should go back to that."

Before long, you fell asleep. However, unbeknownst to you, your computer mysteriously turned itself back on and began to launch a certain application...

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"Do I need to remind you again how to perform Dream Trawler?" Xiao asked.

"Nuh-uh," Paimon shook her head, setting down a Seven-Star Lamp. "Paimon has a great memory! First, we offer incense with respect for Rex Lapis. Next, we meditate and think of our target. Then, we shout 'Bring Forth Sin'!

"It's 'Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin'," the Traveler corrected as they were adjusting the position of the censer.

"Right!” Paimon nodded, setting down another Seven-Star Lamp. “Lastly, we let loose a couple of arrows towards the two yaksha statues to... to uh... uhhh...".

"Tsk. Fools."

This conversation was taking place while the Traveler and Paimon were setting everything up for the Dream Trawler ritual. However, instead of going back to the two yaksha statues on the southern face of Mt. Tianheng, Zhongli suggested they perform the ritual at Luhua Pool.

"If my guess is correct, [Y/N] will most likely panic upon realizing where they are. If that's the case, it would be better for them if they weren't so close to the harbor. It's best if we do not attract any attention."

Both the Traveler and Paimon agreed. Neither of them wanted [Y/N] to be afraid. They only wanted to give them the warmest of welcomes.

"Are you two done yet?" Xiao asked, annoyed at how long it was taking to get everything set up.

The Traveler and Paimon walked up to Xiao. "Yep! Everything's set up just like last time."

Xiao nodded. "Good. Get ready to initiate the ritual."

The Traveler and Paimon nodded in return. They put the incense inside of the censer and began to meditate.

"Since we are dealing with someone from another world, I would imagine that a great deal of focus should be needed to summon [Y/N]. This is especially true since we have no idea what they look like. I'm sure Xiao warned you of the consequences this could cause should you not take this seriously.

Zhongli's words echoed in your mind as you put all of your focus towards [Y/N].

"Hmm..."

[Y/N], who has been with them since the beginning.

"Ohh..."

[Y/N], who has done their best to guide them along their journey.

"Ahh... Hmm..."

[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].

"Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin!"

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

...

... ...

... … …

It's cold.

You shifted in your sleep and immediately felt the lack of bedsheets surrounding your body.

Instead, you felt... rock? Sand?

Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with the cloudy midnight sky, trees with orangish-red leaves, and tall, rocky mountain peaks.

"...Wait. ...Why am I outdoors?"

Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the moonlight.

"...And why does this look so familiar?"

You brought your hand to the ground to begin pushing yourself up, but stopped moving once you noticed the light blue glow surrounding it.

"What the hell?!"

Shocking the exhaustion from your body, you quickly rose up from the floor, nearly losing balance as you stood due to how light you suddenly felt. You looked around the rest of your body and found that you were completely surrounded by the light blue glow.

"This has to be a dream... This has to be..."

"My job is done. I'm leaving now."

Startled, you quickly turned around to find three familiar persons standing a couple of yards away from you.

"Huh? Why don't you wanna stay?" A floating pixie asked.

"...Paimon?"

A short, tattooed man with azure hair scoffed in response. "I don't deal with mortals."

"...Xiao?"

You let out a crazed chuckle. "I've got to be dreaming."

Paimon, oblivious to your decreasing sanity, shook her head. "Nope! We summoned you here via dream trawling. Isn't that great?!"

You were silent for a few seconds before you responded. "Dream... trawling...?"

Sensing that you were still confused, Xiao sighed in annoyance. "You are [Y/N], right?"

Hearing the sound of your name shook some sense into you, but you still involuntarily nodded.

"Good. When you're ready to send them back, speak my name." Xiao told the Traveler before disappearing.

However, seeing Xiao disappear right in front of your eyes shook you even further. "Woah...! That looked way too realistic."

The Traveler let out a small cough to grab your attention. "If you wouldn't mind, [Y/N]. We summoned you here because we've been wanting to talk to you for some time now. Please, grab a seat."

They gestured toward a stone table that was definitely not there the last time you visited. They then sat down on the stone seat facing you. When they looked up, they realized that you hadn't even moved as much as an inch. Additionally, you stared straight at them, yet still appeared lost in thought. Sensing that you may still be bewildered about your current situation, they spoke up.

"You don't need to worry about anything, [Y/N]. There is nothing around here that will hurt you," they gestured to the seat again. "Please."

Had they been unable to see your chest moving in and out, both Paimon and the Traveler would have thought you to be a statue.

"This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real..."

Paimon shared a worryingly glance at the Traveler before floating on over to you. You were too oblivious to your surroundings to notice her approaching, but when she finally reached out a hand to tap your shoulder, you flinched back. Hard.

"Wahh! Sorry! Paimon's sorry!" Paimon quickly apologized.

Meanwhile, your brain was working in overdrive to assess the situation. "I felt her! I felt her! I'm not dreaming! I'm not dreaming! This is real! This is real! THIS IS REAL!"

"Paimon get back," the Traveler commanded, standing up from their seat. "They're in shock."

"In shock!? What do we do about that?" Paimon questioned.

The Traveler didn't respond, instead, they slowly began to walk towards you.

Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you noticed the Traveler approaching and slowly began to back up, raising your arms in front of your body. "No no no no. Don't come any closer."

However, the Traveler continued to walk forward one step at a time. They raised their hands up in the air. "It's okay, [Y/N]. It's okay."

You shook your head. "No, it's not okay," you rapidly spoke, breathing loudly. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"Yes, you are. We summoned you here."

You backed up into a broken stone pillar. "Why?" you asked, looking behind you for a quick second. "What did I do?"

They stopped in place before a sorrowful gaze appeared on the Traveler's face. "You’ve done nothing wrong."

Silence hung in the air for an agonizingly long time. Finally, you spoke:

"...Nothing?"

The Traveler nodded. "That’s right. We just want to talk."

You slowly lowered your arms. "About... what?"

Both the Traveler and Paimon smiled. "About our future journey together."

Confusion set upon you once again. "What? But I… I said I was done."

The Traveler sadly shook their head. "We know, but we can't let you leave. Not after all you have done for us."

Paimon chirped in. "Exactly! You're our friend after all!"

Your breathing stopped upon hearing Paimon. After all that effort you put into making amends with them. After believing that it was all for naught.

"You... you see me... as a friend?"

The Traveler nodded, their smile growing bigger. "We do."

Silence fell upon the three of you once again. This time, it was the Traveler who broke it.

"I think it's time we all grab a seat. Shall we?"

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

Author's Notes: I was originally going to make this longer, but I once again struggled at trying to write this scene out. It's hard trying to figure out how people should believably react to this scenario.

Because it's never happened before, duh.

Anyways, the next part will be the end of this series. Stick around for the ending!

[asoftsighh]

Hello! Heard you wanted some marauders requests!

Could write about something that readers does that just short circuit the boys ( separately, please)? Like something cute that just leaves them in that awe moment?

Thank you!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ james potter x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ 

james short-circuits when you casually do something sweet

793 words

a/n: hi! i decided to do this with just james, but if i get ideas for the other boys i will definitely do it. thank you for requesting ʚ♡ɞ

The pub is loud, but not so loud as to be overwhelming. After all, most of that volume is coming from your table. You’re surrounded with your friends, all people from your Hogwarts days. But it’s the glasses-clad boy sitting next to you, his warm thigh pressing into yours, that you’re aware of most.

You’re pressed into James’ side in the booth, his hand intertwined with yours on your lap. You’re both in separate conversations, his a ‘heated’ argument with Sirius on who’s the better Quidditch player, your’s a gossip session with Marlene. Despite that, James squeezes your hand every couple of minutes and kisses your brow when you need a refill. 

When Marlene leaves, whether for the bathroom or for a drink (you’re unsure,) you’re left to your own devices. You angle yourself towards James, your crossed legs nudging his thigh. He must think you need him, because he removes himself from his conversation faster than you can blink, his gaze now on you. 

His smile is boyish, glasses pushed up high on his nose. “You okay, angel?” He asks, smooshing his nose and lips to your temple in what you think is supposed to be a kiss. 

“I’m okay,” you say, voice low but not upset. To anyone else, you know you look as lovesick as you feel. Resting your head against his bicep, it flexes in surprise and then settles. He squeezes your hand. 

“You having fun?” he asks softly, just for you to hear. He even ducks his head down to get a better look at you, strands of curly hair falling before his eyes. He shoves them back with a huff.

James is like this everytime you go out together. It could be a diner, a club, a bar; it’s almost like he can’t relax nor have fun unless he knows you're okay too.

You laugh softly into his shoulder, his shirt scrunching beneath your cheek as you tilt your head up at him. “Relax, Jamie. Please. This is fun.” Which is no lie.  

He studies you for a moment, so you take the opportunity to do the same, taking in the slope of his nose, the roundness of his eyes that are surrounded with long lashes, the natural pink of his lips. You could observe his face for hours, you think, and always be entertained and completely in love. 

Bending further down, he smooches the side of your nose, glasses bumping into you. The hair he had, so carefully, pushed back moments ago falls right back. The thick, dark, curly locks long enough to reach the outer corners of his eyes. Before he can move them back, always rougher than you like, you do it for him. 

With your free hand, you gather the loose strands in one swoop, tucking them behind his ear. You do it without thinking, not like you’ve never done it before. The look in James’ eye says something different.

A girlish giggle escapes your lips. “What?”

He just stares at you for a moment, completely holding your attention. You’re unaware that Remus is watching the two of you with a curious eye from down the booth, that Sirius has taken one too many shots and is now singing the British National Anthem. For you, it is just James. 

Before you can ask again, his lips are on yours. They are warm and soft, tasting like whatever drink, (one you don’t particularly like), he was drinking earlier. His hand abandons yours to cup your cheek, warm thumb brushing just below your eye, like he’s trying to memorize every slope of your face. (He already has.)

He pulls away after another moment, kissing the high of your cheek as he tugs you against his side once again. 

“What was that for?” It bursts out for you; not a complaint, not at all, more so curious. Your cheeks warm and then spread down to your neck.  

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests his chin on the top of your head. James being quiet isn’t a common thing, but it isn’t abnormal either. You know that when he wants to tell you something, he always does.

“Just love you, ‘s all,” He says, quiet enough for just you to hear, his tone somewhat bashful. Now you understand. If you were to look up at him, his cheeks would be tinged with pink. 

You grin into the junction between his neck and shoulder, fingers toying with the hem of his (your) sweatshirt. 

“Merlin, Potter… If I had known snogging you would make you go all sappy, I would’ve done it ages ago.”

He groans, pressing his face into your hair, laughing softly. “You’re the worst.”

His arms that tighten around you say something different. 

criticism is welcome as long as it’s kind ✮⋆˙

i’m very new to writing ✮⋆˙

[lxmelle]

Those letters for his students was like Gojo’s way of showing consideration for them.

That’s what Geto Suguru, the “Gojo translator”, would say to them, if he was there.

I mean, there was a reason they were best friends - Geto understood him the best. He helped him learn how to (and the importance of) connecting to others - how to not be lonely.

It was the same in the scene with Kuroi. Right before he shouted for Gojo over the time, he just instinctively knew how to connect with Gojo and helped others with sympathising with Gojo.

I didn’t play the JJK game but I think the undercurrent dynamics is similar. Their bond. The exclusivity. Love. The whole breakup was about their friendship. The change the new generation got was also due to the path forged by them. As it stands, Gojo is shown to be largely misunderstood and nobody aside from Yuta has shown much affection for Gojo. Maybe Yuji ... to some degree. But I digress.

Maybe it’s an unpopular opinion, but considering how Geto-centred Gojo’s GIGA Character book was, he was likely influenced by Geto’s strong protective love for his “family”.

It makes sense to me that Gojo thought it would be important to put the students’ minds at ease with any thoughts/questions about their family. Hence the letters to help tie up loose ends.

Megumi was shown to be thinking about his father, whin he assumed was out there somewhere. Even if he didn’t want to know, there is a subconscious level of unfinished business from thinking this. And to know that Gojo killed him, may have helped him realise that his sensei had his back all this while. He was worth protecting all this while. That chapter of his life can truly close.

And just how bloody typical of his sensei, who has no “delicate-ness” about him!

As a sensei, and as a person, Gojo always protected others from his own personal concerns. He and Geto both stubbornly lived & fought “alone” because this was just their belief as the burden of the strongest = to protect others. The line was drawn and Gojo only ever wanted Geto to understand him, hence his conversation in 236. Only ever needed Geto by his side: hence his only complex was Geto leaving him behind.

We see this in how Shoko felt distant from them both. Stating in her inner monologue how she could never love either of them, but she was there - insinuating what they had between them was not something she could give (love) but her friendship was there if only Gojo let her in. And we see it in how, when she tried to connect with Gojo post-unsealing, by including Geto’s body as someone to be retrieved, he was a bit taken aback, starting his sentence with a long pause “……...” and keeping it simple / not elaborating (だな - it’s like the equivalent of a “yeah” but implies agreement).

Also, the fact the students and others can joke and call him an idiot, etc. means he really hid it well. Gojo protected them all. (As a teacher and adult should, I guess.)

I’m reminded of this scene.

Geto helped Gojo empathise & “not bully the weak”, but to also consider what else may be important... even if they may not think so themselves.

Until they receive what they thought they didn’t want, only to realise it was what they needed after all.

Cuz… y’kow: people (especially children) don’t always know what they want or need.

Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need. What you need isn’t necessarily what you want.

Gojo & Geto lived through that too... didn’t they? On so many levels… wanting, needing, denying, losing, yearning. Carrying their burdens they had nobody to share with. Making decisions on their own. Giving to the other a piece of their heart. Sacrificing themselves. Accepting each others loneliness as their own. Thinking they were better off loving the other by being apart.

The painful lessons that shaped the way for the new world. Children given the protection from The Strongest Sorcerer of the Modern Era. Granted a world with fewer curses for 10 years due to the Strongest Curse User.

Children who had adults to guide, protect, and care for them.

Children who do not have to be killed for the mistakes of others, who were forced to commit sins, or for being born a certain way.

I think every single sorcerer who were adults helped the kids in some way. The layers and layers of this story is just... overwhelmingly beautiful.

Much remains to be seen now. I’m worried that Yuta will have to live in Gojo’s body and that Kenjaku’s eerie words of Yuta being “the next Gojo Satoru” will extend beyond that battle.

People on X seem to be speculating whether a world without curses will exist (going back to jjk 0 and Geto’s ideals). What of the barriers without tengen? Some question reality as we are being shown - is it an elaborate dream? Hm.

I hope for the plant/flower trio at least... Megumi and Yuji can use their shared tragedy as vessels who committed sins to bond and support one another. Nobara is a great buffer and heroine in her own right. Their dynamics are really amazing. Independent, yet so bonded.

I’d love to see Gojo & Geto at peace. I guess whatever happens, chapter 236 is a bit like salvation. And doesn’t Megumi’s smiling pic (above) look similar? If these two smiled as if they had no regrets , we can assume Megumi smiled sincerely upon receiving the letter, too.

As long as Gege doesn’t do anything to change it.

Please please don’t. They deserve a reward for their hard work and sacrifice!