#thank you so much for the ask it's nice to see people still care about me on here

[nevermindmorpheus]

So I just want to notice a few things about this article and suggest we all take a moment to do a fact check.

First, it’s weird that only the advocate leading a rally on Jess and Dahlia’s behalf is quoted.

Second, there does not in fact seem to be a light rail stop at Hennepin and 5th street. (a bus stop, yes).

Third, the details are odd—Jess and Dahlia were beaten to unconsciousness on the street and yet the only news is this story in the Independent, and then a few stories using that article to regurgitate that information.

Fourth, while there is a quote from a legitimate group in Minneapolis (Sequeerity) it’s not actually about the attacks, but about whether their services and classes have been in demand. Which I am sure is true, but it’s a red flag there is no link to the actual event that supposedly kicked off the interview.

When I search “trans women attacked minneapolis” it pulls these up along with a story from the Star Tribune (Minneapolis’s award winning local paper) about a trans woman attacked by two men in a light rail station—in March of 2023

Now, this story treats the violence with the level of care I would expect for something this vicious, you can see the multiple sources, how the details are laid out etc. (Also in this incident, and the police are called and her attackers were charged.)

Now what I kind of suspected here in the case of the 2024 story that uses some of those details but none of the context that makes sense, was that this story is either AI written or in the worst case, written to stoke fear in trans folks hoping to find safety. Things feel very dangerous in the US right now and a story like this can make even places of refuge seem unsafe. The reality of course is that no place is perfect, but Minneapolis is still a much better option for safety for trans folks than many others.

Now, things that would make me trust this story is if we could find journalism where anyone has covered either:

a) the actual attack occurring Nov 2024, citing a full police report, speaking to either Jess or Dahlia, or a bystander who saw the incident. Or even you know, the time of day exactly, and gets the actual physical location correct.

EDIT! There is coverage here that does that and clarifies the location of the light rail station and resolves the factual issues that raised my questions in the first article: https://bringmethenews.com/minnesota-news/rally-held-after-transgender-women-attacked-near-minneapolis-light-rail-station

https://bringmethenews.com/minnesota-news/rally-held-after-transgender-women-attacked-near-minneapolis-light-rail-station

b) a story covering the rally that happened in support of Jess and Dahlia. Where was it? How many people were there? Are they asking for anything?

EDIT: the above linked story does that!

At this point I can find neither and so I urge everyone to be careful and critical when encountering news that is hitting all of your emotional buttons. No one’s fears are unfounded here (this did happen in 2023!) but we owe it to each other to only spread stories like this that are based on solid evidence ♥️

EDIT: Thanks to some other folks doing searching as well, the step of fact checking which is find other coverage has succeeded. I was wrong! I do want to emphasis that it is still important to go through the process of noticing these things and making sure what you’re looking at is real, because there were enough errors in the Independent story that made the reporting not feel right. The “bring me the news” piece, as well as the instagram posts it’s linked to clarify the rally, the large public support including government officials, and reports the correct details of location and when the cops showed up (late, at the hospital. nice look there guys).

I’ve gotten a lot of hate for wondering if this was correctly reported and being wrong on the internet, and I do want to say that I looked into this because it made me upset, and then concerned, that the violence against transwomen was being used to stoke our fear (which is what I felt about the Independent article). I included the sections about what would indicate this was real because I knew there was a real possibility I had missed something, and wanted to highlight how you know when to change your mind.

so the tldr: The first shared article has a lot of factorial errors that means you should look more. Even if you don’t see evidence at first doesn’t mean you won’t get it later! The truth is that this violence did happen, but also that there was a huge outpouring of local support. Please take care of each other, and be kind!

This is where we are. Anti-trans pogroms have begun and the community is living in fear. Things are so bad that some of us are unable to live anymore.

Where is the left? Where are our allies?

#TDoR2024

[rxzilvia]

hiii, can you right something like jealous Niki??

i love how you write btw🤍

Thank you for the compliment so muchhh, and ofc I can 🫶🫶

Mine to keep

Requested?: yes

Warnings: none

Riki was lounging on the bed, cross-legged, watching you in the mirror as you twirled in the skirt he had picked out for you. It was cute, short, and fit you perfectly, making his stomach flutter in a way he didn't quite expect. The way it hugged your hips had his focus entirely on you

You turned toward him, catching his gaze “How do I look?” you asked, a teasing smile playing on your lips

Riki leaned back, his gaze scanning you carefully, almost too carefully “You look great,” he said, though there was a hint of something in his voice “I’m just trying to decide if I like it on you… or if I should be worried about other people seeing you in it”

You raised an eyebrow and stepped closer “Worried? Are you jealous already?”

Riki smirked but didn’t say anything at first. His hand tugged lightly at the hem of your skirt as if trying to pull it down just a little “Maybe I just don’t like how everyone’s gonna look at you when you walk out there”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your hand resting on your hip “I’m sure you’ll survive. Besides, it’s just a skirt, Riki”

Riki’s eyes softened for a second, then he raised an eyebrow “Yeah, but it’s your skirt,” he muttered, more to himself than to you

You blinked at him, still grinning “I didn’t think you cared that much.”

His expression softened again, though there was still a hint of something on the edge of his smile “I care more than you know,” he said quietly

Before you could respond, a knock at the door interrupted you. Riki gave a soft sigh, and you shot him a look “Seriously?”

But you didn't have time to question him because the door opened, and in came Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Heeseung. They all froze for a moment when they saw you, eyes flicking to the skirt before quickly shifting back up to your face

“Woah, Y/N, you look stunning!” Sunghoon exclaimed, his smile wide

Sunoo, always the flirt, added, “Yeah, you should wear stuff like this more often.”

Riki didn’t miss the way their eyes lingered a little too long on you. His hand tightened on the edge of the bed, his gaze narrowing just slightly as they continued complimenting you. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you could feel the subtle shift in the air

“Thanks,” you said, trying to keep it casual, though you caught Riki’s mood shift. He wasn’t saying anything, but the tension in his shoulders was obvious. He gave a small smile, but you could tell it was forced

Heeseung chuckled, “Riki, your girlfriend’s definitely turning heads, huh?”

You smiled awkwardly, but before anyone else could say anything else, Riki’s hand shot out to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The move was smooth, but his grip was tight

“Y/N, can we talk for a second?” he said quietly. You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his mood "Uh, sure?"

Without waiting for a response, Riki guided you out of the living room, his hand never leaving your waist. As soon as the door to the bedroom closed behind you, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding

“Riki, what’s wrong?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you sat on the bed

He stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair “It’s just... the way they were looking at you. It felt... I don’t know, like they weren’t just complimenting you. Like they were really looking”

You could see his frustration building, and though you understood his reaction, you reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm “Riki, they were just being nice. You’re overthinking this.”

“I know, I know,” he muttered, but his voice still had an edge to it. “I just... don’t like seeing them look at you like that. Especially when you look this good”

You sighed softly, standing up to stand in front of him “I get it, you’re protective. But I’m not going anywhere”

Riki finally met your eyes, his expression softening “I just don’t want anyone thinking they can have you. It’s not about trusting you. It’s just... I don’t want them thinking they have a chance”

You chuckled softly, stepping closer “You’re the only one I want, Riki”

He gave you a small, relieved smile, though his hands still rested on your waist like he wasn’t quite ready to let go “Good.. i love you..”

You smiled, planting a gentle kiss to his lips before snuggling in his lap "I love you too.."

[macgyvermedical]

Hello Ross!

Came across your post reblogged by @msbarrows. Sorry if you've been asked this before, but what are some good steps to take now before the new regime comes into effect in January?/RFK Jr brain worm antivaxxer BS.

Thank you in advance.

I know just about every post on the subject says this, but- get your vaccines up to date. Buy yourself a nice TDaP from the CVS for Christmas. The Department of Health and Human Services (of which RFK Jr will have control) oversees the CDC and the FDA. While it would be unlikely he would go for an all-out ban on vaccines, he could make vaccines a hell of a lot more optional and refuse to approve new ones. Considering another goal of the administration is to repeal the ACA, that would mean childhood vaccinations would no longer be covered by private insurance (I was a child prior to the ACA and my mom paid $750 to get (fully insured) me vaccinated (about $1,638 in today's dollars). Meaning people will likely not be able to afford vaccines even if they wanted them. And a combination of expense + lack of mandate would mean a drastic reduction in the number of people who get vaccinated. While vaccines are less effective without community (herd) immunity, they are still great at keeping you from dying. So get them while they're available and covered.

Get your records. Download or request as many of your own medical records (and those of your children!) as you can. You can get most of your records through MyChart or other online portals. If you received medical care before electronic charting, you'll have to directly contact your hospital or clinic's records department to see if they can send you copies. Save them in hard copies in a binder or at least on a flash drive or disc you have the ability to read from a computer. This makes your medical care portable if you have to see a new doctor without a lot of time to plan.

If you're on more than one medication, have a "medication reconciliation" appointment with your doctor. Learn what meds you are on and know what each of them do. Call your pharmacy and learn how much they cost without insurance. Ask your doctor if there are any cheaper alternatives that treat the same things. In the case of an ACA repeal and loss of drug coverage, you're going to want to know so you can make an informed decision about which drugs you buy.

Get your mental health straightened out as much as possible. RFK Jr. has said things against antidepressants and other psych medications. While again, he's probably not going to ban them (Think of the lost productivity! Think of the pharmaceutical companies losing revenue!) he may make it hella difficult for new antidepressant meds to be approved.

Get on long-term birth control of you can get pregnant and don't want to be. The copper IUD is the longest lasting form of birth control and can prevent pregnancy for more than 10 years, but hormonal IUDs can last 7 or more. Each has their own side effects and benefits. You can always get it removed later if you change your mind, but getting access to birth control might become difficult.

Have any semi-elective procedures done ASAP. At least get them scheduled. If the ACA is repealed you may not qualify for health insurance and you really don't want to have to pay for a surgery out of pocket. Plus, if the FDA becomes less reliable, you're going to want any tools or implants used in that surgery to still be safe.

Get new glasses. If you have vision insurance, get a new pair of glasses (not contacts) now with your most up-to-date prescription.

Get any dental work you've been putting off done if you currently have dental insurance. Get a cleaning and any preventative care done you need too.

[taegularities]

Rid I'm so sad that you're receiving this hate but for me you're one of the kindest people in here. I'm always rooting for you. Sending hugs. 🥰

thank you babe, i think i needed to hear this.. you're the sweetest, all the hugs back 🥺🤍

[atozfic]

i hope life is treating you well <3

it surprisingly is, which is making me suspicious... like, who tf is the universe gonna send to traumatise me this time?

[sigilcatt]

Hii

Sebastian x Reader where they don't have enough data so they just ask if they can pay w/ a kissy?

zomg this is so cute???

{reader is GN}

So far, the totality of this expedition sucked.

Signing up to fetch some stupid crystal for your freedom sounded like a flawless idea, sure. If you dismissed the plethora of creatures making an effort to kill you along the way. (Not like the people who sent you here cared, mind you.) You were chastised for any mistakes, even though they refused to even inform you about the opposing dangers to begin with. It was more of an…inconvenience if you happened to fail.

Regardless, between having to avoid possesed lockers, shadowy figures, and whatever those god-awful anglers were, you thought you were pretty damn good at this.

You’d managed to stay alive so far, approaching yet another door, this one marked “43.”

Hopefully this one would be easier than the last..

Gently slipping a thin, blue keycard inside the reader that had been installed into the door, waiting for it to hiss open with a scowl on your face. The door parted and swept aside, revealing yet another dark hallway before you.

Dammit, You thought with a groan, fumbling around in your bag to retrieve your flashlight. It was already low on juice, and of course, you had no batteries on you. Just your luck. Shaking it awake, the warm golden light illuminated the absolute mess of the corridor; large crates looked as if they’d been violently thrown across the room, one even appeared to have left minor damage to one of the many thick pipes lining the walls to your left.

Plus the considerable ragged clawmarks that laced the floor, but it was better to ignore those, no?

Taking a few deep breaths, you forced yourself to stray deeper into the space, your light scanning over each and every crevice. You weren’t about to risk letting anything jump out at you.

Except for the vent grille, apparently.

An earsplitting smash reverberated throughout the chambers as it rammed against the nearby wall, bouncing back for a mere second before collapsing onto the floor.

“What the hell-?!”

Out of shock, you dropped your flashlight, the generous amount of light you’d been given now gone as it rolled away from your feet. As you scrambled to pick it back up, a voice echoed through the vent opening.

“Got something for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at the small gap, quickly realizing who it was with frustation bubbling in your gut.

Sebastian. That 10ft sea monster that lingered around these areas, offering you useful supplies in exchange for data. You rolled your eyes with a sigh as you got on your knees, wincing with discomfort as you made your way through the vent to see him.

Of course it was him. Who else would it be? As much as he annoyed you with his unwarranted attitude and sass, he was still…nice to be around. Made things less lonely.

“Ah, you, welcome back.” He greeted, though of course laced his voice with sarcasm. “Really thought you’d be dead by now.”

“I’m more capable than you think, Seb,” You retorted, crossing your arms as you glared up at him, almost actually insulted he doubted you.

His long, grey, scaly tail sat curled against the wall, his selling items neatly attached to it. He scowled right back at you, demonstrating his usual toothy grin as his fins twitched slightly. “Sure.” He hissed softly.

You ignored him, browsing his wares with tired eyes. You approached his tail, ripping off a silvery flashlight and examining it. Without a second thought, you stuffed it into your bag and began to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian scoffed. Abruptly, his wide tail clasped over the vent opening, preventing you from leaving. “You haven’t paid. You must actually be stupid, huh?”

“You owe me!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms into the air. “You scared me and made me drop my first flashlight. Now its’ broken, thanks.”

“Oh dear, really?” Sebastian hissed, feigning concern in his voice.

You groan in frustration as the sarcasm hit you, yanking your bag open to find any data you’d collected along the way. You were hoping to get this interaction over with, if he was going to be this sassy.

“Oh..damn..”

You stared into your palms, which held a few scraps of data, some of which were even broken during your travels. Whatever it was, you definetly did not carry enough to afford anything.

Sebastian laughed softly, seemingly observing this as well. “Too bad, then. That’s really embarrassing, I might add.”

“Wait, seriously?!” You clamored, desperate to leave here with something. “I can figure something out!”

“We had a deal. One you agreed to, in case you forgot. Either you pay, or you get nothing, sweetheart.” He added the taunting nickname with a scoff, reaching to take your bag from you.

You leapt away, knowing he’d tear it to pieces with his claws, even if he was trying to be gentle. Which he wasn’t, of course, but still.

“Wait, wait, I can-” You protested. An idea struck you suddenly. Not a very easy one, but it was something, at least. Oh well, what did you have to lose besides your life and freedom?

Sebastian pulled his hand away, narrow eyes boring into you as he waited for you to finish.

“How would you feel about some sort of…romantic gesture? Like, I don’t know, a fucking kiss or something?” You offered, preparing to be screamed out of the room.

But, to your surprise, that didn’t happen. He simply kept that narrow-eyed glare. At first, you thought he might not have heard you, so you drew in a breath to speak again. “I mean, come on. You think I can’t tell you at least like my presence a little? You’ve given me discounts and let me just sleep in here whenever.”

It was silent for a minute. The events you’d listed were true, however. You could recall moments when you’d just been so drained that he reluctantly allowed you to use his tail as some sort of pillow to rest with, along with the discounts on items he claimed were just him being in a “good mood” at the time.

“That desperate, are we?” Sebastian laughed, his voice yanking you out of your daydreams. He thought on your proposal for a few agonizingly long seconds before letting out a deep sigh. “…Fine.”

You let out a breath you didnt know you’d been holding, practically gripping your newfound flashlight as if it were your only lifesource. (It might as well be, considering your conditions, honestly..)

You opened your mouth to continue, though all that escaped you was a startled gasp as Sebastian lifted you off the ground. Cold, sharp claws grasped onto you with a gentleness you didn’t know he was capable of as he held you, level to his scaly face.

Your hands grabbed onto whatever part of his claws you could in order to keep yourself from falling as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“So?” He remarked with a frown. You cleared your throat with a deep breath. “Right..”

You leaned in further, pushing your hands against the side of his face as support before pressing your lips against him. Your body seemed to heat up as you did so, finding an odd sense of comfort as you let it linger for a few extra seconds.

“Mmh.” A satisfied hum escaped Sebastian as he gently curled his claws further around your body. Though the fear of falling wasn’t an issue for you right now. All you could seem to think about was the current situation, and the way it made you feel.

Eventually, you pulled away, wiping your mouth as you cleared your throat. You stared up at him, taking in the slight smirk being thrown your way.

“Good enough for you?” You asked, your voice softer than usual.

“Very,” He sighed, placing you down carefully. Your legs trembled as your feet finally touched the ground, due to the being held midair like that, and also maybe the fact that you had just kissed a sea creature you were told to avoid at all costs.

You tightened the hold on your flashlight as you stared off into space, thinking on your recent actions. Of course it earned you something, but holy shit.

In an attempt to take your mind off this, you sat down, arms wrapped around your legs as the lack of energy finally got to you. Sitting against the wall, you let out a sigh.

“Could I stay for a bit?”

“…For a few hours.” Sebastian exhaled, arms crossed as he glanced down at you.

You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’ as you let the well-deserved sensation of rest overcome you.

This was going to be an odd story to tell when you got back.

so sorry if this is shit, /gen , I haven’t written in forever , plus im much better with hcs 💔

[moonstruckme]

It is I, person who asked about the bad car crash one. I have read the one you said! And while yes I think the car crash you described is bad I was wondering if you could do one that's... Worse-? Idk 😅 if not I totally understand lmao.

No I think I get you, thanks for requesting and hope you like it!

cw: car accident, concussion, mention of blood, I already know this is not very accurate, but I did not have it in me to do all the research when I wrote this. Sorry and hope it doesn’t hinder your reading experience </3

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Your own breaths are the loudest sound, which can’t be right. Surely there should be alarms, or screaming, or something. Up until a second ago, the screeching of tires and metal was loud enough to deafen you. 

Your car door squeaks brokenly, a sad echo of the racket from before. The air around you shifts as it comes open, and a moment later there are cold fingers pressing into your jaw. 

You make a low whining sound. “Hey,” you complain. Your lips move oddly, murmuring where you mean to speak. 

“Hi,” a voice behind you replies smoothly. “I’m Sirius, I’m with NHS. Is your neck or back hurting at all, gorgeous?” 

“No. You’re cold.” 

“Lovely. This is my friend Remus, he’s going to push on your hands.” 

A head appears in front of you, upside down and shooting an exasperated look towards the disembodied voice. You don’t understand how these people are moving around so quickly, without you noticing them coming. 

“Hello.” The other man’s—Remus’—gaze softens as he meets your eyes. “Can you tell me if you feel this?” He prods at your hand. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. Your heart is starting to move in your chest, thudding against your ribs like it wants to hurt you. 

“Alright. Can you try pushing up on my hands, please?”

You do. He nods approvingly, giving you a little smile. 

“Good girl. We’re good, Sirius.” 

The cold hands release your face, and you breathe a sigh of relief. It makes your chest ache dully. 

“Beautiful. We ready to move?” 

“Yup.” That’s a third voice, distinct from the others and somewhere you can’t see it. “We’re all set.” 

“Let me just—” Remus’ hands come up around your waist and back, his grip firm, near to bruising. “Okay, I’ve got her. We’re going to unbuckle you and lift you out, okay? Just stay nice and still for us.” 

You’re confused as to what he means, but apparently your silence is consent enough. You feel the buckle of your seatbelt click, and then you’re falling up, Remus’ hold tightening further as he stops your ascent to lift you sideways. 

It’s not until you’re out of the car that you realize you were upside down. Your head feels better, though not by much, and the sun glares at you like it’s punishing you for a wrong you don’t remember having committed. Your arm, suddenly and to your horrified surprise, is in agony. 

A pitchy scraping sound tears from your throat, what would have been a scream if you had the air for one. 

“Here we go, just—yeah—” the third voice speaks as something comes up under your back. “There we are. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

“We’ll get you on pain meds in just a second, doll,” Sirius promises. Someone adjusts your legs so they’re both on the cot, careful of your searing arm, and then you’re moving, the sky shifting above you until you’re looking up at a gray ceiling instead. Time is an odd, fluid thing, marked only by actions and various pains. 

“When did you get here?” you mutter, to no one in particular. 

The third voice is the one to answer you. It’s accompanied by a thick pair of glasses and a sweet face, eyes flickering between you and some equipment he’s messing with. “Just a few minutes ago.” 

“I don’t…I didn’t hear the sirens.” 

He smiles like you’re funny. “Yeah, I think you might’ve been unconscious for that part.” 

You wrack your brain. You don’t remember falling asleep. Only the screeching on the road and then being in your car. Then again, you feel half as though you could be dreaming right now. 

Something sharp bites into your hand. You whimper, the pain small but only adding to every other hurt that’s already far over your threshold. 

“I know,” Sirius shushes you, sticking something to your hand. “I know, babe, but this is going to help soon. You’ll see.” 

“So far I’ve got a concussion, open fracture of the wrist, several lacerations to the face and chest, and bruising around the knees.” Remus’ voice is an odd combination of soft and businesslike. You have a creeping sensation he’s talking about you. “Am I missing anything?” 

“Possible bruising around the chest,” Sirius says. “She was breathing funny earlier.” 

“Right. Hey, love,” Remus voice gentles as he addresses you, “I’m going to move your shirt down to see if your chest is hurt, alright? I’ll be careful, it won’t take long.” 

“Okay,” you manage weakly. 

“Thank you.” He uses both hands to stretch the collar of your shirt, tutting quietly to himself at whatever he sees. He lifts a stethoscope from around his neck, rubbing the metal on his hand for a moment before setting it to your chest. 

You don’t know what he’s listening for, but you’re distracted when the third paramedic—the one with the glasses—starts running what feels like a wet wipe over your forehead. 

“Just cleaning you up a bit,” he says brightly. “Figure we ought to have you looking your best for whoever ends up stitching you up, yeah?” 

“James.” Sirius’ tone is somewhere between chiding and joking and fond, an entanglement of meanings you quite can’t wrap your pounding head around. “Don’t talk like she’s not already stunning. You can hardly improve upon perfection.” 

“Too true,” the other boy agrees readily. 

“Take a breath in for me, please,” says Remus, seemingly ignoring the other two and seemingly also used to doing so. “Just as deep as you can.” 

You try. You do your best, and as your lungs expand the dull ache worsens and worsens until a sharp pain pierces your middle. The air whooshes out of you in a dry sob. 

The stethoscope leaves your skin, and Remus fixes your shirt collar, putting it back in place. Your chest radiates a terrible, throbbing hurt. 

“It’s okay,” James says. His finger brushes your cheek, swiping at wetness you didn’t realize was there. “Oh, honey, it’s okay.” 

“At least a couple of broken ribs,” you hear Remus mutter to the others. Somehow, impossibly, it makes the pain worsen. 

“What’s happening?” you choke out. 

“You’re in an ambulance,” James tells you kindly. “You were in a car accident, and I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but we’re here to take care of you. We’re going to make sure you’re okay, and then get you to the hospital so they can finish fixing you up. You’ll be alright.” 

The explanation takes you a while to process, but even then your tears don’t seem to want to slow. Your chest pangs with each hitch in your breathing. Eventually Sirius starts talking you through taking slower breaths, trying to calm you down. 

Someone wipes at your face with a small square. It stings, and it comes away light red with your blood and tears. 

“I know it’s scary,” Remus murmurs, “but you’ve already done so, so well. We only have to splint your arm so it doesn’t move and clean some of your bigger cuts, and then we can go to the hospital. Can you let us do that, please? Will you be okay?” 

You take in a ragged breath. “Yeah,” you reply. 

“There we are.” James takes your head between his hands. Something about his grip reassures you. He touches his lips to your forehead, like it’s natural, like it’s nothing. “You’ve got this, sweetheart. Just need you to be brave for us a little while longer.”

[undreaming-fanfiction]

I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.

He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.

He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.

He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."

He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."

"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"

And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."

For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."

But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."

And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."

Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.

Eddie is ready to run.

But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

[hoshigray]

nanami x big ole freak for the people please 🙏

- megan anon

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: *smacks and slides hands together* yessirrrr! based on this ask + iconic song by queen Megan

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Nanami x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (f! + m! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - 69 + cowgirl + mating press positions - slight bondage; restriction of hands - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - clitoral play - orgasm denial - pet names ( baby, love, sweetheart) - reader lowhighkey a dom - implied fwb relationship.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

“Yo! Nanami~n, wanna hang out with me and Shoko tonight?”

“No thanks; I have something to get to.” 

“Ehhh, something or someone?” Gojo looks over the shoulder to see his subordinate is on the phone and, by the looks of it, texting another person. “C’mon tell me, is it a guy, girl, a curse—who got the attention of the reserved Mister Nanami Kento?”

“Gojo,” the blonde man shuts his snow-haired superior down while stuffing his phone into his tan suit. “It’s my business; don’t meddle in.” He turns with the sole of his foot and walks away, the whine of the taller other not fazing him.

Gojo snickers to himself while watching his peer stride away. “Wonder who's the lucky one who got that guy to finally live a little…”

It’s known to those around him that Nanami liked to keep to himself, even in matters outside of his work. There’s no need to mix business with pleasure—especially in his line of occupation where there’s no guarantee on the good side of things or fulfilling false promises to people you care about. He’d much rather keep the two separate, going to Jujutsu Tech and taking care of missions in a timely methodology as a grade one sorcerer and wind down in the comfort of his leisure time or home before repeating the process the next day. 

However, tonight would be one of those rare nights where he’d go elsewhere to mellow down…at someone else’s request, such as the person who messaged him to meet at a hotel and the one behind the door he knocks on before it’s opened.

You enter his vision with a grin. “There you are; I almost thought you didn’t get my text.”

“I did,” Nanami took off his goggles and stuffed them in his pockets. “Did you wait long?”

“Too long,” your hands are placed on his chest and slide to his sunken cheeks to cup. “I guess it’s better late than never, but you know I don’t like wasting my time, especially since you’re the one who summoned me.”

He brings a hand to yours to kiss your palm, and chocolate brown eyes pair with a tiny smirk. “Is it too late to make up for my tardy?”

Your smile grows broader with hooded eyes, and your face inches closer to his. “That depends on how fast your fine ass can get inside the damn room,” you whisper before claiming his lips, a spark between you two ignited within milliseconds.

The fair-headed man wastes no time, leading you back inside the hotel room and closing the door with his foot. Hands are instantly roaming each other’s bodies, yours undoing his tie and discarding it with his blazer while he unbuttons your blouse to slide down your shoulders and meet the floor, same with your pencil skirt. With his lips still locked on yours, Nanami gently lies you by the edge of the bed, spreading your stocking legs for more access to hover above you. Lust has your smooches driven for a needier connection, tongues invading each other’s cavity, and your legs wrapping around him as he rocks his hips to your figure.

You’re the first to break the kiss, biting his bottom lip with a tease. He sighs, “Is that fast enough for you?”

He makes you titter. “So attentive, aren’t you? But you know I want more than these nice lips to play with.”

Oh, he knows. Trust and believe, he does. 

“Ahhshhh…! Damn…feel so good, love.”

He throws his head back to the pillow, savoring the sense of your tongue lapping around the crown of his erect cock. His pants were now off of him, you mounted atop him, your ass facing his way while his groin was arranged before your face. 

His view was downright taken over with the sight of your butt and lacy panties swaying from side to side, all the while you were kissing and sucking on the skin of his dick. Your hands move to please him, one stroking his shaft in your grasp while the other fondles his balls with your pretty fingertips.

You suck on his cockhead and release with a soft ‘pop,’ his groan sweet to your eardrums. “Gosh, baby, you sound so pent up,” more licks to his glans jerk his hips, even when the kneads to his scrotum become firmer for the hand on your waist to get tighter. “Loosen up for me; I’ve been craving you like crazy all week...”

“Hnnmm, I can say the same for you, sweetheart,”eyes fixate on your underwear as he slides them to reveal your bare cunt. Seeing a trail of your excitement stick and glisten is no shock. “You seem to be tense yourself,” he brings a forefinger to your labia to lube with your excess fluid, and you hum with a bitten lip as he inserts the digit inside you to wiggle and scrape around. “Feel like it, too.”

“Hooooh,” You don’t hold back a moan—no need when indulging with this man. “Ahhh shit, yess, right there…”

“Yeah? You like this, baby?” He curls the finger with every pull before the push; your wails are too cute not to push for more. “Feels good?”

“Nnmmm…you know what would feel even better?” You peer over your shoulder, your orbs meeting mocha ones as you nudge him with the hit of your toes. “Shutting up and using that handsome face of yours.” Your batted, innocent eyes don’t match the vulgar display of your hips in front of Nanami. Yet he doesn’t scold you, just accepting you with a chuckle while pulling you in. A shiver dances up your spine at the contact of his wet muscle on your chasm, stirs to your clit, and nestling between your folds powers the desire. 

“Ohhh, yesss, just like that, Ken,” you praise before hallow cheeks take in his dick back into your mouth. Muffled sounds of contentment are felt on his cock, and it only pushes him to ravage your sensitive area even more.

However, this is nothing compared to the real deal moments later. 

Nanami knows how much you love to be in control—he’s been with you enough to understand that you’re serious when you need your fix. So, he has no room to refute you when you tie his hands above his head with his necktie and straddle above his lying frame. Yet again, no complaints came from the blonde man. After all, he is the one who has you here in the first place.

He lays on the bed, moaning below as you bounce up and down on his pelvis. For the second time that night, you were riding him down to the point, shrilling euphorically as your hips did the work for your satisfaction. You’re in complete control of the scene: the pace, the speed, the angle, the entire show. 

You lean forward, and the angle and motion of your lower region frequent the presses of your clitoris. “Fuuuhick, ohhhshiiit…!”

Neat golden hair is now untidy; strands cover and stick to his forehead. But that doesn’t obstruct the erotic view of you plunging his length into your aching slit, which has him swallowing thickly with a heated face. “Hnngh! Shit, so tight...”

“Haaaah, ahahaaa, feelin’ good, Kento?” You tease, leaning backward to clamp onto his girth. His dick rubs on the upper wall of your vagina and brushes to your G-spot resulting in your howling. “—Ooohhh, my God, yessss!” There’s no way you wouldn’t be clenching on him like crazy like this!

Makeshift bondage be damned, the man can’t help but buck his pelvis with your movements; the snug of your walls around him are difficult to resist and fuel him to chase the orgasm he’s been wanting all this time, and he can only thank for the condom that shields you from each other’s bare touch—or else his patience would’ve worn thin the round before. 

It’s borderline torture to watch you finger your clit and milk him with his hands bound; he wishes to touch you so badly. And you can see right through him, tittering as you come to a stop and remove yourself from him. He groans at the cold feeling of the air, substituting your warmth. However, that’s changed when you bend to untie his hands and get off his legs.

“C’mon, Kento,” you wet your lips, lying on your back and pulling your legs up. Knees to your chest and your wet cunt instigating an invitation. “Your turn to take care of me.”

God, you were intoxicating, your words making him hot in that dress shirt of his. That’s why he sighs with a scoff as he unbuttons to let his chest and abdomen breathe, aligning his length to join you again.

“I’ll do just that, love.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[bubble-tea-blossom]

Hear me out fellow Joel sluts, the demon of horny hath possessed me.

Jackson era. Pure smut. Age gap. Frantic fucking on a couch. 18+ only.

Desperate not to cum, Joel thinks about what a terrible person he is.

I mean, he knows her parents for fuck’s sake. He’s over at their house on the regular. How the hell he’s supposed to look them in the eye now? Now after fucking their pretty little daughter like an animal on their own couch.

Joel has her on her back, her legs bouncing in the air while he fucks her in a mating press.

He likes it best this way. When he can get deep, grinding his pelvis against hers. He likes watching her cute face screw up in pleasure, her eyes and mouth popping open when he knocks on her cervix.

She claws at him, arching her back when he grinds even deeper,

“Fuck!” She cries. Joel stares at her lips, puffy and wet from when she sucked on his dick. She’s trembling now when Joel slides his cock in and out. In and out, he fucks her tight channel open with every thrust.

The girl is whining now, tears brimming in her big eyes as all she can do is lie there and take the brutal pounding from a man older than her father.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” she whispers, and indeed Joel can feel the walls of her tight little pussy start to flutter. Poor thing’s been put through the ringer tonight.

His mouth falls open in a groan. She feels heavenly, wrapped around his dick and pinned underneath him.

Shit this girl’s gonna drain his balls soon if he’s not careful. And Joel has no plan on this ending anytime soon.

So Joel thinks about what people would say if they found out. What they’d call him behind his back.

Dirty old man. Shit like that.

Joel’s finding it very hard to care when she finally cums. Her cunt squeezes around him like he tasered her. Her back arches as much as it can with all of his bulk pressing down on her.

Joel doesn’t let up his thrusts. No, he fucks her through her orgasm, pummeling her pussy with his cock, his balls slapping against the soaked skin of her asshole.

“Fuck pretty girl, you got a great pussy.” Joel grunts, feeling her tremble underneath him.

She gives a tired laugh, “Thanks.”

“Little thing takes me so well, stretches out nice for me.” He purrs, feeling his own orgasm pull low in his gut.

He slows his thrusts, wanting to savour this. The feeling of her warmth wrapped around him, her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. The smell of her neck when he sucks and licks.

Her little cunt, warm and wet and all for his taking.

Its too much. Without any further warning, Joel feels a familiar jolt in the base of his spine. He instinctually slams himself as deep as he can while his balls tighten and he pumps shot after shot of cum deep inside her.

The girl doesn’t react how Joel thought she would. She lies there, letting out a little moan at the feeling of his cock throbbing against her walls. It takes a few seconds until she looks up at him, her eyes wide,

“Wait what was that? Did you just cum?” She asks, her voice wavering.

Joel knew he was a bad man when the realization that he was the first man to paint her insides with his seed, makes him rut into her again. Giving short little thrusts, getting the last dregs of his cum inside her walls.

The girl gasps when Joel finally pulls out. He does so slowly, he knows he can be a lot to handle. Especially now that he’s rethinking how experienced she might be.

Breathing heavily, Joel rests with the tip of his cock still pressed against the girl’s seam. She sits up, trying to shift to better see herself. Joel watches with a soft groan when the pearly white fluid pools at the girl’s entrance, before spilling down.

Its thick. And there’s a lot. Joel’s not even sure when the last time he’d had an orgasm was but he must’ve been pretty backed up because now its at risk of staining her parent’s couch.

Joel gathers it with two fingertips, dragging his fingers up her slit before pushing back inside.

Her lip quivers and the shudder that passes through her is one of pleasure, especially when Joel starts to finger her with more rhythm. Pulling her libido back up of the floor, up and running again.

“I am sorry about that. Kinda came outta nowhere. I can get you anything you need.” Joel promises. His sentances are short, but the girl nods, the look on her face showing she understands.

“I might take you up on that,” she says with a sigh at the ministrations Joel’s laying on her.

“But first,” she moans, her knees falling wider, “my parent’s don’t get back til Monday.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[moonlinos]

Don’t let me love you (Siren part II)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, friends with benefits to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, mentions of smoking, drinking, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay/denial, sex toys, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, choking (only a little tho)

♡ Word count: 15.7k

♡ Synopsis: Hyunjin has been a camboy since he turned eighteen and a host since the age of twenty. His life and line of work had him building up a fortress of walls to keep himself safe, but he’s powerless as he watches you unknowingly break them down. Although he knows you deserve better than him, he battles with a selfish desire that wants nothing more than to allow himself to love you.

♡ A/N: Part two of what was supposed to be a one-shot, but people made my brain think things and I wrote 15.7K WORDS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people actually wanted a part two of something I wrote, so I wanna say thank you 🩷

← part I

Your situation with Hyunjin has been going on for almost eight months now.

Some things have changed; he’s undoubtedly more clingy with you, and you started hanging out with no intentions of having sex. What remains unchanged, however, is the fact that he’s still the same old egotistical idiot.

The thing is, you somehow grew to like that about him. It’s amusing to you just how much he loves himself, gloating about his conquests at the club or bragging about maintaining his number-one spot on the camming website. Although this only makes you even more certain you would never entertain the idea of being with someone like him, having the man who makes you come so hard also make you laugh just as much is a nice bonus.

Hyunjin began coming over to your apartment around two months ago, gradually wearing down your resistance with a lot of pestering until you finally let him in. Your home was almost sacred to you. Hooking up in his apartment was one thing, doing that in the familiarity of your home made it feel almost too intimate. You’ve fucked on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, but you never allow him into your bedroom. You’re not entirely sure why, but it would feel as if you were tainting your favorite place if he were to fuck you in your bed.

You’re getting ready for a date in your bathroom with Hyunjin sitting on the floor behind you, claiming the view of your ass from that angle was optimal. He lets out a loud chuckle as he watches you dab yet another layer of concealer on the hickey he left on your collarbone earlier tonight.

“Fuck off,” you snap at him. “You think this is funny?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it is,” he simply says, and you see him shrugging in the mirror, a grin tugging at one corner of his lip.

Hyunjin has the maddening habit of marking you. Although you told him numerous times how much you hate it, he conveniently ignores that when you have sex, and you’re always too clouded by lust to say anything about it.

“What are you doing on your livestream tonight?” You ask after finally making the small, red blotch on your skin imperceptible.

Watching Hyunjin cam has become your go-to de-stressing method after work. Sitting in a corner far away from the camera, you watch him do his job with ease, like it’s second nature to him. It’s almost intoxicating how he seems to always know what to say to get his viewers going, knowing exactly when to be mean and when to play the role of a caring boyfriend. It makes you clench around nothing, hungrily watching as he makes himself come all over his stomach so deliciously it has you eager to be fucked as soon as he’s done.

He hums. “Well, they really seemed to like the toys I tried last weekend, so I guess that’s what I’m doing for the next few weeks.”

“Ooh, so you’re sticking to the toys now,” you tease him with a grin.

Last Saturday, you watched as Hyunjin opened fan gifts he had received in his PO box during his livestream. Some were extremely questionable (if you had a nickel for every time he pulled out used panties from a box, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice), while some were exactly what you would expect to be sent to a camboy. A variety of BDSM gear, kinky costumes fans wanted him to wear, and of course, a lot of sex toys.

Hyunjin shrugs again, leaning on his left hand and staring up at you through the mirror. “I kinda have to do whatever my viewers want to keep my number one ranking.”

“And are you going to the club tonight?”

“Nah,” he yawns and rests his head against the wall. “Took the day off. My spot there is secured,” his lips upturn into a grin. “No other guy at that club can compete with me.”

That’s another thing you learned about Hyunjin these past months; his club and website rankings are extremely important to him. You also learned he has an Only Fans account on the side where he shares videos and pictures of himself, and he pesters you about making any type of content with him every couple of weeks. You were tempted after seeing the enticing amount of money that was in it for you, but your decision was unswayed.

Your confidence wasn’t like his. You’re sure having your performance and appearance scrutinized by strangers would make you go insane.

Nonetheless, you struggle to conceal your jealousy toward Hyunjin’s jobs, as they seem so damn perfect in your eyes. How great would it be if you could essentially work only when you felt like it? Not to mention the fact that both his jobs are basically having orgasms and looking pretty, which certainly seems heavenly when compared to your headache-inducing corporate job.

He even delayed the starting time of his livestream tonight for the sole purpose of tormenting you while you get ready.

Jihoon is your first proper date in almost a year, as you only allowed yourself the luxury of dating after getting the promotion you were working for. He’s in your company’s finance department, and you two have been casually flirting for three months. You tried your best to ignore him for a couple of weeks, but not only was he ridiculously good-looking, he was also the breathing definition of boyfriend material. He was kind, holding doors open and helping other workers carry heavy boxes with a smile on his face. He was caring, always arriving at the office with coffee for his coworkers, having memorized everyone’s order.

Not to mention the whispered rumors that echoed through the hallways of the ninth floor. Your friend, who had recently moved into the finance department, shared them with you after a drunken night out. Jihoon was apparently amazing in bed, all while being a perfect gentleman. The perfect blend of rough and sweet, and never one to kiss and tell — all these rumors apparently coming from women in his department who had dated him and couldn’t keep themselves from gushing about their unforgettable experience with him.

But it would be a lie to say you were excited about this date because of him.

It was the prospect of how much this could vex Hyunjin that really got you eager.

A couple of nights ago, you joked with Hyunjin about how Jihoon was the complete antithesis of him, hence why he was the ideal candidate for a boyfriend. Hyunjin’s reaction was exactly what you anticipated, with him becoming visibly annoyed and grumbling about how Jihoon probably talks a big game but does the bare minimum in bed.

You simply laughed because the mere thought that another man could be just as good, if not better, than him in bed was what ticked Hyunjin off. Never mind that you said Jihoon was perfect because he was everything he was not.

“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, “We should make a bet.”

And you hesitate for a beat and a half because you know Hyunjin.

Still, you sigh and answer, “Sure. What kind of bet?”

“If this guy is really that good in bed, then I’ll pay for your next date myself,” he vows, his smirk only growing as you turn to look at him through the mirror. “If he’s average, you go on a date with me.”

You silently look at him for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of you.

“Hyunjin, do you fucking hate me?” You ask, turning your body toward him. “I get shitty sex then have to endure a date with you?”

He shrugs, rising to stand in front of you. “This just proved to me how much faith you have in your date,” he calmly says. He then leans into you, caging you against the countertop, hands beside your body. Hyunjin bends his face to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks, “Just admit you know no guy will ever be a better fuck than me.”

You scoff at his arrogance, pushing him until his back hits the wall.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Hyunjin follows you when you leave the bathroom to grab your purse in the living room, loudly clicking his tongue behind you.

“Why’d you dress up for him?” He huffs, and you turn to look at him with a raised brow. “This fucking short dress and shit.” He rakes his eyes over your body from head to toe, tugging at his bottom lip. “I should make you dress up for me, too. You look hot.”

By now, you’ve learned that the best course of action to follow when dealing with Hyunjin’s monumental ego is to ignore it altogether. It’s also quite entertaining to purposefully give him answers you know will vex him, so you sweetly smile at him.

“Thank you,” you beam, your fingers toying with the hem of your short dress, pulling up the fabric. “Hopefully Jihoon thinks the same.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. He harshly presses his lips to yours, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His tongue pushes past your lips, brushing against your own. It’s almost like an act of possessiveness — leaving his taste on your tongue before you go off to your date with another man.

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. But just as you’re getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the sound of your doorbell echoes through the room, and your eyes widen. Pulling away, you promptly push Hyunjin back and wipe the corners of your mouth. You stifle a chuckle when your eyes land on his face; red lipstick smudged all over his lips.

“Stay in the bathroom until I leave,” you tell him while grabbing your purse from the couch. He rolls his eyes again, this time with a scowl contorting his features.

You smile at Jihoon when you open your door. Barely giving him the chance to say hello, you hurry him toward the elevator, reminding him of your reservation. You know Hyunjin, and you wouldn’t put it past him to show up behind you simply to stir up some drama.

But that’s the thing; you know Hyunjin, yet you still choose to stay in this strange arrangement with him. Because it’s the fact that you know him, for some reason you’re unsure of yourself, that makes you actually like him a little bit.

Hyunjin ends his livestream as usual, saying goodnight with a promise of seeing his viewers again tomorrow night. He never acknowledges tips and addresses no one by their name or username. Some cammers wear masks to conceal their identities — this cavalier persona, uncaring and nonchalant, is Hyunjin’s mask.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he goes on to do the arduous task of cleaning up the fleshlight he used tonight. It was a gift from a viewer, who begged him — with quite a lot of tips — to use it for her. What was initially meant to be a one-time thing has now become his new routine, as his viewers couldn’t get enough of it.

Hyunjin hates this part of his camming job: the incessant need to please the people who watch him, lest they abandon him and move on to a new cammer. He doesn’t mind the sex toys — although cleaning them makes him want to throw his entire collection out the window — but he’s had to do a lot of shit he really didn’t want to, all in the name of maintaining his number one spot.

He was eighteen when he first started. In desperate need of money after moving out of home for college, one of his friends suggested he sell his nudes to people around campus. When Hyunjin scowled and asked why the fuck that was his first and only suggestion, the boy laughed. He remembers his words to this day:

“Hyunjin, you know you don’t really have anything else other than your looks. Your grades are shit, and you’re lazy as fuck. This is pretty much the only way you can ever make money.”

And by that age, that was nothing new to Hyunjin, as he had heard different variations of that same speech his entire life. When he was a child, his parents urged him to become an idol or a model, going so far as to motivate him to ignore his schoolwork to attend auditions (even when he whined about how much he hated them). 

His mother always said his face had the power to make people love him while studying would only lead to success.

“It’s much better to be loved, Hyunjin,” she told him when he was ten. “Anyone can reach success if they try hard enough, but being loved is a privilege only special people can have.”

By his late teens, when his reputation began to precede him after countless hookups during high school, his friends assured him he could make a lot of money off of sex.

Either way, the consensus was always that the only thing Hyunjin had to offer were his looks and body.

At first, he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to be appreciated for anything other than what his face looked like, or how good he was in bed. He got his grades up, excelled in hobbies he actually liked, and even set goals for himself after college. But Hyunjin never heard a word of praise from his parents, and his friends were always more interested in who he was hooking up with than how he got to the top of his class. After a while, he realized he was simply fighting a losing battle.

So he accepted that truth, because it couldn’t hurt him if he were the one to incentivize it.

That was why he decided to follow his friend’s asinine suggestion.

His first endeavor was with simple videos of himself jerking off in front of his mirror, the shitty camera of his phone certainly hindering his attempt at making the whole thing pleasing to the eyes. He would promote them through text messages to acquaintances he’d met at parties at first, later creating a Twitter account dedicated solely to selling these videos. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was certainly more than his friends made while working monotonous shifts at coffee shops.

Only four months later, he coincidentally entered the world of camming through a girl he had been hooking up with.

They were in her bedroom, just about to have sex, when she giggled against his lips and told him she could make a lot of money if he fucked her during one of her livestreams. He said he could make a lot of money if she let him record them fucking.

They ultimately reached an agreement, and Hyunjin appeared on his first-ever livestream that same night — a mask covering both their faces and the money made split evenly between them.

He recalls how his eyes were glued to her computer screen the entire time. He was used to praises and compliments, but there was something different about having a stranger openly say they’d do anything to be in that girl’s place, that they would pay to have him fuck them, or even something as simple as telling Hyunjin how good he was. It had a rush of euphoria cursing through his veins.

It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had found something he was truly good at, something that he was entirely in control of. He was a natural, and he enjoyed every moment of it, easily slipping into the persona he wears to this day.

He got drunk on that validation and was desperate to have it again.

After that night, he created his own account, with many of his hookup’s viewers following him immediately. He dropped out of college soon after he started, as the money he made from camming along with selling his content on Only Fans already exceeded the estimated salary in his field of study.

Hyunjin was good, and he loved being good. Most importantly, he loved knowing he was good.

That’s why he simply ignores the few times he’s had to do things he wasn’t all that keen on doing. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he’s good at — pleasing people, no matter the cost.

After a long shower, Hyunjin walks back into his room and sinks into his bed. He’s glad he took the day off from his job at the club since a viewer tipped him $300 to edge himself for as long as he could tonight. After an hour of that, the only thing he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep for hours.

He buries himself under his blankets, but just as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of laughter echoes through his room. Your laughter.

He sits up in bed almost immediately, a grin etched onto his lips. He still remembers the day he found out his walls were paper thin; the day you touched yourself while he was streaming. He knew you were so sure you had been quiet — only letting out small whimpers and sighs — but he heard you regardless, and your pretty noises made it even easier for him to come that night. He initially assumed you were simply masturbating, but when you came knocking at his door the very next day to complain about how noisy he was, he knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Hyunjin has fucked many women in his life, but for that silly fact alone, none piqued his interest quite like you did.

He rests his back against the headboard, ready to listen to you complain on the phone to some friend, grumbling about how fucking awful your date had been. But a masculine voice suddenly permeates through the wall, filling his room with the sound of your date’s obnoxious laughter.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he slurs, clearly a bit tipsy.

“Me too,” you giggle, and Hyunjin’s face twists into a scowl. Since when do you giggle like that?

He hastily yanks the covers off his body, rushing to settle into his computer chair in a shameless effort to hear your conversation more clearly.

“Sorry I laughed when you spilled your drink on your dress,” the guy — whose name Hyunjin frankly didn’t care enough to memorize — apologizes before adding, “Do I make you that nervous?”

And it’s like Hyunjin can hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Why the fuck must this annoy him so much? Couldn’t you go back to his place to fuck? Maybe you’re pissed at him over the bet, and this is a desperate attempt to prove you’re right. He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before reclining on the chair.

Just means you’ll be having mediocre sex while he listens.

“Of course I was nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, this shirt’s been driving me crazy since you picked me up.”

The man snickers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you state matter-of-factly, “Kept looking at your arms the entire night. Couldn’t think straight,” your voice drops to a whisper, and Hyunjin could recognize the alluring lilt that envelops your voice from a mile away.

You use it with him almost every night.

Your date hums. “Oh, you like my arms?”

And Hyunjin can just picture the man flexing his muscles. What a fucking idiot.

His room is filled with the creaking sound of your bed, and he physically cringes. He can’t believe you’re really gonna make him listen to you fuck another guy. He especially can’t believe you so easily let this fucker into your bedroom. Hyunjin has known you for eight months, and you still adamantly insist that your bedroom is off-limits.

Maybe this is his long-overdue punishment for making you lose sleep for a month.

Your room suddenly falls into an odd stillness. All Hyunjin can do is sit in the dark, consumed by the incessant ticking of his clock, unable to tear his gaze away from the wall in front of him. His mind becomes his own worst enemy, flooding his imagination with vivid images of you laid out underneath this man, his arms you seemingly love so much caging you between the mattress and his body while his lips explore every inch of your skin. Or maybe you’re on top, rolling your hips in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives Hyunjin mad while looking at him with lust-clouded eyes.

The sound of you softly whimpering shakes him out of his thoughts, and Hyunjin subconsciously clenches his fists. Despite hearing the guy talk to you again, all he makes out is a jumble of garbled, muffled sounds.

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, eyes boring holes into the wall until his vision goes blurry and gnawing on his lips until he tears at the delicate skin. His ears sting with the sound of your bed frame hitting your shared wall, and your sighs and moans he loves so much only seem to mock him.

When the sardonic symphony eventually fades into silence, Hyunjin remains where he is. He feels powerless; he can’t stop how his heart weighs heavy in his chest or do anything but feel the scorching flame of anger searing his veins.

He’s memorized your date’s name by now — Jihoon, as your voice repeatedly called out.

For the first time in so long, Hyunjin was no longer in control.

Hyunjin struggles to conceal his annoyance when you show up at his door the next day as if nothing had happened. The hickey he gave you no longer being concealed by makeup and your ever-present grin only added to his aggravation, as if you were relishing in his agony. He wants nothing more than to fuck that smug grin off your pretty lips, but he can’t bring himself to touch you. Not when his ego is bruised by how easily another man could please you.

After all, that was all Hyunjin had to offer. Why were you even here in the first place? If you had already found someone else to fuck you, he had nothing more to give you.

Sitting on his couch, Hyunjin’s frustration gets the best of him, and he’s the first to break the silence.

“I don’t even gotta ask if you had a good time last night,” he sneers, and you stifle a chuckle, trying but ultimately failing to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, the restaurant was nice.”

Hyunjin can’t contain the scoff that escapes his lips, his mouth curling in disdain. “You know damn well I’m not talking about the restaurant.”

You cock your head to the side, brows knitting together as you put on your best act of naivety.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” You ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hyunjin is pushing your body onto the couch before he realizes what he’s doing, the rage he felt last night no longer laying dormant in his bloodstream. He cages you against the cushions, his hands resting beside your body. You instinctively spread your thighs to accommodate him.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” He asks, bending his face to yours. You shrug with a contented sigh, lifting your arms to wrap around his back.

Hyunjin scoffs, and you let out a yelp as he abruptly hoists your legs over his shoulders, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. He leans down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth but pulls away before you can register to kiss him back, leaving you to chase after his touch.

“Is this how he fucked you?” He asks with a hum, his lips hovering mere inches above yours. His hold on your thighs becomes bruisingly tight as he waits for your answer. “Hm? Did he fuck you good?”

“We were both tipsy,” you murmur, breath hitching as he pushes his hardening member against your clothed core. “It was okay.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and Hyunjin mockingly pouts. “So he wasn’t the sex god you were promised, baby?”

You roll your eyes. “I just said it was okay.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his gaze transfixed by the way your eyes look up at him while you subtly roll your hips up into him. He’s not stupid, he knows the reason why you have such an infuriating effect on him. He’s never going to be good enough for you outside of being a good fuck, yet he feels a blooming yearning inside of his chest that makes him selfishly want to keep you to himself. Even if he has nothing else to offer you.

So he chooses to swallow his pride, just this once, to prove to you why you should choose to stay and stop searching for pleasure in other men — because Hyunjin knows you will find much more than that in them. Much more than what he has.

“‘Okay’ isn’t what you deserve,” He tuts, his mind slowly fogging over with desire as you roll your hips harder against his length. “Isn’t what you’re used to after all these months, is it? Hm?” He urges, raising a hand to lightly brush against your jaw before gripping it. “Answer me.”

Hyunjin knows you’re struggling not to give in; that’s one of his favorite things about having sex with you. The push and pull, how you try so hard to act tough and unbothered but ultimately melt under his touch every time. Even so, he was only able to truly break you for the first time a couple of months ago. You’re obstinate, he’ll give you that.

You shrug again, and he knows it’s the only answer he’ll get from you for now.

“Are you gonna see him again?” He asks instead.

You let out a quiet sigh as Hyunjin lazily grazes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t think so.”

“Yeah?” He asks, arching a brow almost knowingly. “I can’t help but think you only brought him home to make me listen to you.”

And you giggle at that. The same overly sweet, coy giggle Hyunjin heard through his wall last night.

“I guess you’ll never know,” you simply answer, running a hand through his hair and lightly gripping a fistful while your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Hyunjin wastes no more time talking to you — he knows your conversations usually lead nowhere. He crashes his lips into yours, fingers gripping your jaw once more and forcing your lips open, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You whimper into the kiss, a sound he knows slipped past your lips unwittingly. Your tongue swirls against his, and he savors your taste with a low hum.

You tilt your hips up, chasing after him again and whining when Hyunjin moves out of reach. He smiles.

“You want me to give you what you’re used to?” He asks against your lips, and you’re quick to nod. “So fucking greedy, made me listen to you get fucked last night only to come running back to me.” He slides his hands under your ass and picks you up effortlessly, carrying you toward his bedroom with an exasperated sigh. “Would’ve been easier if you just admitted no guy will ever be as good as me, wouldn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, but your words are cut short as Hyunjin throws you onto his bed and promptly walks to his wardrobe. “At least Jihoon got to it quick. I’m not one of your viewers, I don’t care much for your chatter.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, retrieving a small blue box from among his clothes and sitting at the edge of the bed. “He got to it quick? Is that your way of telling me your date was a one-minute man?”

You open your mouth as if you’re ready to refute him but ultimately close it and cross your arms over your chest, willing him to do something. Hyunjin stifles another laugh.

“Good thing you have me, then,” He mutters, the goading lilt to his voice impossible to disguise. Placing the box on his nightstand, he hovers over your body once again. “I got all these toys, and we never got around to playing with them together.”

You visibly shudder, nodding slowly as Hyunjin looms over you. He slots your lips together once more, this time much more softly. Your tongue lightly brushes against his bottom lip, licking into his mouth as your thighs wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles behind him and drawing his body flush against yours.

With each languid and deliberate stroke of his tongue, Hyunjin revels in the way he can feel you grow more impatient, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and rutting your hips against his. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt to grip your waist, easing your movements. The way his cock strains against his sweatpants becomes impossible to ignore as his hard length presses against your warm core harder and harder with each roll of your hips. 

Hyunjin’s hand glides from your waist to your stomach, caressing your skin before finding its way to your cunt, fingers harshly pressing against your clothed wetness. You whimper into the kiss as he lazily circles your clit over the fabric of your shorts.

“Let’s make a deal,” Hyunjin whispers as he pulls away. “You admit I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna have, and I might let you come.”

He punctuates his words with a firm press of his fingers to your clit, and he can visibly see your resolve crumbling before him, but you still force out an indignant huff.

“In your dreams,” you shakily breathe out.

Hyunjin shrugs, his fingers leaving your core and traveling over the expanse of your stomach. He promptly rids you of your shirt, and you hiss as his hands brush against your sensitive nipples, Hyunjin watching as they immediately stiffen in response.

Your habit of not wearing a bra nearly drives Hyunjin insane — even on the first day you came knocking at his door, he remembers having to fight the urge to glance down at the way your nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your white shirt.

You’ve been driving him crazy since you walked into his line of sight.

Hyunjin lightly massages your breasts before grazing your hardened nipples with his thumbs, swiftly sucking one into his mouth, causing sighs to spill from your lips as your hand tangled in his hair. He flicks the stiff bud with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it, and you roughly tug at his roots. He smiles against your skin, nudging the peak of your nipples with his lips and sighing.

“Say it,” he calmly tells you, but your only response is tugging harder at his hair. “You’re so stubborn,” He chides, tugging his shirt over his head. “I told you, you’re only coming if you fucking admit it.”

He slowly moves onto the foot of the bed, his hands roaming along your legs with featherlight touches. He places wet kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs, sucking lightly at the skin until his lips hovered tantalizingly close to your still-clothed, aching cunt. And then he stops, instead pressing a kiss to your hips.

“Hyunjin,” his name falls from your lips as a breathy whine. He looks up to find your gaze already on him, eyes silently pleading. He grins, thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs as you push your hips into his face, but he promptly pulls away. “Please,” you finally whisper, although barely audibly. 

Hyunjin hums, satisfied, pressing a wet kiss to your core through the fabric of your shorts before sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He hisses through his teeth at the sight of your wetness, thumbs gliding up and down your folds before spreading you before him. His tongue immediately pokes out to travel up your slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking harshly, and your hand soon flies to rest on his head.

He lifts his eyes once more, humming against your folds as he finds your head rolled back onto his pillows, lips falling open as you softly mewl. He could listen to your sweet sounds all night, reveling in the way every flick of his tongue made you become louder and louder until you were all but screaming his name.

But he has to teach you a lesson tonight.

His tongue delves deep into you, gliding against your slick inner walls, causing even more arousal to flood his lips. His eyes flutter closed with a pleased hum, lapping up every drop of your wetness.

“Fuck,” you rasp, and Hyunjin knows you’re close.

With a wicked grin, he slips two fingers into your warm cunt, curling them just the way you love while his tongue expertly circles your clit. When you roll your hips against his lips, yanking his head toward your body, Hyunjin pulls away.

He watches as your eyes shoot open and you frown at him, but he simply grins, thumb wiping at his glistening mouth before slipping the digit into your agape lips.

“Say it,” he repeats, unrelenting, and stifles a laugh when you groan loudly.

You hook a leg around his waist, bringing his body close to yours again, the heat of his thick cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Hyunjin sucks in a breath, focusing on reining in his emotions, determined not to let you win. His mind is already completely clouded with lust, desperate to fuck you into the mattress, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of watching him give in to you.

He bends his face to yours, gasping out a curse as he watches the way you swirl your tongue around his finger with a hum, lazily sucking it while maintaining your eyes locked onto his. He presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue, and your lips obediently fall open before upturning into a taunting smile.

You still think you’re in control.

Hyunjin shakes his head, his resolve coming back to him.

His fingers fall from your tongue, and he presses his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss, hands traveling down the expanse of Hyunjin’s abdomen, then back up to wrap around his broad shoulders. He lets you do as you please, rummaging through his box until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, ultimately distracting you, and you let out a small whimper, which grows into a loud groan as he presses the blunt tip of the massaging wand to your clit and switches it to the medium setting.

“What the fuck,” You all but growl into his lips, and Hyunjin hums.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You let out a shuddering sigh. “T-Too much,” you whimper, hands scrambling for Hyunjin’s arms in an attempt to ground yourself, but ultimately clawing at his bedsheets.

He glides the wand along your drenched folds, moving up and down, eyes transfixed on the way your arousal drips out of you and coats the toy. Your entire body jolts when he harshly presses the vibrating tip directly onto your clit. He could come just by watching you squirm underneath him, loud groans falling from your lips. How he wished Jihoon could be in your room, listening to how beautiful you sound when you’re actually being taken care of properly.

Hyunjin feels his cock twitch every time your body shudders, trying to escape the relentless vibrations, sticky precum gathering in his sweatpants and increasing his discomfort. He desperately wants to fuck you.

With a low grunt, he leans in closer to you, pinning your arm to your side and flicking his wrist as he presses down harder on your swollen clit.

“Got no idea how pretty you sound, do you?” He hisses, “If only you weren’t such a fucking brat and just — fuck.”

His words dissipate when your free hand wiggles between your bodies and pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, squeezing him tightly before frantically stroking him. The sounds that echoed through the room were lewd, unmistakable evidences of both your arousals.

Hyunjin pulls the wand from your clit, turning down the vibrations and letting it rest against one of your peaked nipples while he grips his cock in his fist, the swollen tip prodding at your entrance, just barely pushing in. You whimper loudly, clutching his arm, fingernails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.

“Come on,” he growls, cock now gliding up and down your slit. “I know you wanna come, just fucking say it.”

But you’re unrelenting, staring into his eyes and weakly shaking your head.

Hyunjin stops his movements altogether, his shaft nestled against your soaking cunt, the head of his cock resting heavily on your clit. He presses the wand down onto his length, increasing the intensity to the highest setting. A loud, broken moan falls from your throat as your shaky hands grip his wrist, your back arching off the bed. You try to push the toy away, but Hyunjin’s free hand wraps around your neck, effortlessly pinning your pliant body down onto the mattress.

He presses his forehead to yours, his sweat dripping down onto your breasts as he fights off his orgasm.

“Fucking say it,” he hisses, tears gathering in your lashes. The unyielding vibrations from the wand traveling through his cock and going straight onto your clit, coupled with the way his hand tightens around your throat, finally have every bit of your resolve crumbling.

“You,” you choke out, “Best fuck I’ll ever fucking have, Hyunjin, god — I wanna come, please.”

Hyunjin feels satisfaction enveloping his entire being, and the pleasure intensifies tenfold, his cock twitching and a low groan reverberating from the depths of his chest.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathes out, giving your neck one last squeeze, and your climax erupts from you with a loud cry. As your entire body convulses and your head tilts back, Hyunjin can feel your release coating his cock before dripping onto the sheets below.

As you struggle to catch your breath, your grip on his wrist tightens and your body squirms away from the vibrations, but Hyunjin only presses down harder, seeking his own release. He soon comes with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together, his cum landing all over your cunt.

He turns off the vibrator, labored breaths mixing with yours as you two come down from your highs.

“You’re fucking insane,” you chuckle after a beat.

And Hyunjin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. “And you owe me a date.”

You were reluctant at first, having assumed it was simply Hyunjin’s ego talking that night, only teasing you because you were going on a date with someone else when he proposed that odd bet. However, you eventually found out he wasn’t at all joking and actually wanted his ‘prize’ — as he called it — for winning the bet.

Figuring out a date was an aggravating task, given that Hyunjin worked on weekends and you worked on weekdays. You told him numerous times to just let it go; you could simply hang out in his apartment like you usually did and call it a date. It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of his whims.

But Hyunjin’s persistence was unwavering, and he settled for taking yet another day off and canceling his livestream altogether so he could take you out on a Saturday.

Although you weren’t looking forward to it at first, you unknowingly smiled whenever you saw the day marked on your calendar alongside your endless work assignments. It was ridiculous, and you wouldn’t admit it to him, but deep down, you were actually excited about this date. You wanted to know what it’s like to have a conversation that doesn’t end in you two bickering, wanted to know what it feels like to hang out with him without the thought of fucking looming over your heads.

You were strangely excited to get to know Hyunjin outside the four walls of your apartments.

But the Sunday before your date, disappointment washed over you like a cold bucket of water when Hyunjin told you he had to cancel.

What did you expect? You knew Hyunjin. This should’ve been the obvious outcome from the start, but you were stupid and allowed yourself to be swept away by a hope that proved too good to be true.

He waited until he finished his livestream to tell you — as if canceling less than a week before wasn’t already bad enough. Your irritation reached its peak as you sat in his bed and listened to him insist it wasn’t his fault.

“One of the other hosts had a family emergency so he’ll be gone for two weekends,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. Family emergency. Of course.

“Hyunjin, you say that like you don’t take countless days off with no issues,” you refuted, and his frown deepened while he shook his head.

Just say you don’t wanna go on this stupid date.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like that. We have rules to follow,” he insisted. “Only one host can be absent at a time. I don’t have a valid reason for bailing on Saturday, so I’m forced to go.”

“Or you’ll lose your precious number one spot?”

“Or I’ll lose my fucking job.”

And you simply shrugged as you ultimately realized that was yet another pointless conversation between you. You then went on to have sex, as you always did when confronted with the threat of a serious conversation, and the topic was forgotten.

At least by Hyunjin.

You spend the next days avoiding him to the best of your abilities. Deep down, you know you’re behaving like a child, but the way you allowed yourself to get excited over something as stupid as a date with him still makes you feel pathetic. It’s impossible not to feel like he raised your hopes only for the pleasure of shutting you down. All because you went out with someone else, and you know that was a blow to his ego.

You two have never been anything more than friends who hook up — and even using that term feels almost comical, seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without it turning into a petty argument or an ego battle — but his insistence on this date, and your own eagerness seemed to hint at something more.

Clearly, you were mistaken.

You brought Jihoon back to your apartment hoping to have mind-blowing sex after a nice date. Plus, you knew Hyunjin would hear you, and you terribly wanted to deflate his ego. A win-win situation in your book. Instead, you had mediocre sex at best. Jihoon skipped foreplay entirely, simply pounded into you, and finished far too quickly while leaving you hanging.

Maybe he was too tipsy to perform well, or maybe the women in your office are living in a depressing reality where a guy’s ability to find the clitoris means he’s a god among men. Either way, even after putting on your best performance, Hyunjin still saw right through you.

And the worst part is, even you can’t explain why you did that. Your mind argues it was all for the pleasure of vexing him; he’s been annoying you since he first moved in next door, after all. But your heart is quick to jump in with a list of facts and reasons why that can’t be the case — all while presenting some valid arguments that lead you to believe you might like Hyunjin more than originally planned.

But he was still Hyunjin at the end of the day. Your egotistical idiot neighbor whose fragile ego you hurt, so he’s retaliating.

After three days of successfully ignoring Hyunjin, one of your friends at work makes all your work crumble with a single phrase.

“I can’t believe we still haven’t gone back to The Siren,” she grumbled during lunch, and you stabbed an innocent piece of broccoli with your fork.

That was all it took to ignite your curiosity.

You sit at your desk later in the day and look up that damn club, telling yourself you simply want to find out why your friends are so desperate to go there. This has nothing to do with Hyunjin.

Upon entering their website, you realize The Siren wasn’t a nightclub as you had imagined; it’s an elegant lounge with a lavish-looking bar you’re sure charged $5 for a bottle of water. As you read the club’s About Us page, the entrance fee almost has you choking on your coffee, despite it being expected for such a place. Among several rules, one catches your eye:

The club allows a maximum of twenty attendees per night, offering a choice of twenty-five hosts.

You gnaw on your bottom lip at the realization that perhaps Hyunjin wasn’t lying, and that was the reason only one host could be absent at a time.

Eventually, you find your way to the Hosts section of the website. You’re a bit taken aback by how these men are presented as amenities, like products displayed at an online shop, with nothing but their names and a picture along with their price.

They’re divided into tiers: gold, emerald, and platinum. Hosts in the gold tier are younger, most likely having just started on the job, and their prices are the most affordable. The emerald tier is more expensive, with some hosts who look old enough to be your father. The disturbing realization dawns on you that these men’s values diminish as they age.

On the platinum tier, only five hosts are displayed, and you blanch at each of their unique prices. Hyunjin is the most expensive, at $500, excluding extra fees. You click on his black and white picture, and a myriad of photos of Hyunjin flood your screen. You’re struck by how different he looks in these shots; his styled hair and impeccably tailored suits look nothing like the man you see at your apartments every day, lounging around in sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

A description sits at the top of the page, short but still enough to make you grimace. 

Hyunjin has held our club’s esteemed number-one position for two consecutive years now, and rightfully so. Complementing his striking good looks is an alluring personality that will make you feel cherished throughout the evening. His undivided attention will undoubtedly meet your satisfaction, and his additional services will leave you breathless.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you were already aware of the nature of Hyunjin’s job as a host — but the club’s portrayal of these people as mere products leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your curiosity has morphed into frustration as you return to the homepage, but a message catches your eye just as you’re about to exit the website. Three spots are now available for Saturday night due to the absence of one of their hosts. And before you can even process your actions, you’ve already booked these spots for you and two friends.

Thank you for choosing to unwind at The Siren! We will contact you individually regarding further details, including host orders.

Host orders? That is enough to make you close the website.

You can’t believe you’re going to do this. You know for a fact Hyunjin will be upset, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he wants to toy with your emotions, you have every right to show up at this club.

You wait for Hyunjin to leave for work to get ready on Saturday. You weren’t able to avoid him this afternoon and spent the day lazying around in your apartment, binge-watching some new reality TV show he’s obsessed with.

You expected Hana and Naeun to eat you alive for buying tickets to this overpriced club without consulting them first, but their excitement overshadowed any anger they had. You also played up your excitement, although, by the time your shift had ended, you mostly felt regret for spending all that money purely out of spite.

The email you received explains The Siren has a strict dress code, not allowing any client in unless they’re dressed to their standards.

The patrons are required to match our club’s overall atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes. At least their arrogance fit their ostentatious price.

As you skim through their several other rules, you find out that booking a host isn’t mandatory, and often, hosts will seek out patrons themselves if they’re free for the night.

Be prepared to be approached by one of our available hosts at any given moment. Should you be fortunate enough to capture their attention, that is.

Among the rules, you’re also explicitly told that tipping the hosts anything beyond their set prices is strictly forbidden. The more you learned about this club, the more you struggled to understand why Hyunjin held it in such high esteem.

You bring out your best dress from the back of your closet, hoping you ‘matched the club’s overall atmosphere.’ You let out a heavy sigh as you make it past the What Not to Wear crew guarding the entrance alongside the bouncer, and you are officially in.

“This is your first time here, right?” Hana asks you, linking your arms together. You nod, and she grins before adding, “You’re in for a treat.”

The Siren is exactly what you saw in the pictures, only the dim glow of purple neon lights illuminating the extravagant chandeliers, corner sofas, and opulent decorations you know cost more than your month’s rent.

The owner herself personally escorts every single patron to their seats — a tradition spanning over a decade since the club was first inaugurated. Briefly introducing herself as Taeyeon, the beautiful woman leads you through a long corridor adorned with the hosts’ pictures on the walls. Finally, you arrive at a sofa, where a champagne bottle nestled in an ice bucket already waits for you. She informs Naeun that the host she ordered for the night will be a bit late due to personal reasons, before bidding you goodbye with a smile.

You awkwardly shift in your seat as Hana leaves to fetch you drinks from the bar, and your eyes scan the lounge as it slowly fills up with people. You notice a few of the men you saw on the website parading around the club, a grin etched onto their lips as they lock eyes with a few of the patrons. Other hosts are already tending to their ‘dates,’ sitting beside them on the sofas and attentively listening with warm smiles.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said his job was making lonely women feel wanted.

The club itself is rather boring without the satisfaction of a host pampering you. The slow jazz music playing softly in the background makes you feel almost drowsy, and the dim lighting does little to help. For an hour, you watch as hosts come and go. Some lead their clients toward the bar area, partaking in drinking games with other clients and hosts. Others guide women up the black, shimmering staircase at the back of the club, leaving you to wonder where they could possibly be off to. Thankfully, you’ll have Hana to keep you company when Naeun undoubtedly disappears off to somewhere with the host she ‘ordered.’

Your gaze falls on the sofa in front of you, where a host’s dimpled smile lights up his face as he playfully strokes a woman’s cheek, eliciting a shy giggle from her lips before she continues her story. His intense gaze remains fixed on her face, his hand soothingly trailing down her back while he nods, seemingly enthralled by their conversation. It would be a lie to say coming here after a tiring week at work wouldn’t seem like stepping into a dream. Even if it’s all a well-constructed lie, having a handsome guy cater to your every need and listen to you complain without uttering a word is almost fucking idyllic.

Your eyes then wander toward the back of the club, where a small group of hosts is huddled around a circular table, quietly laughing among themselves. Sitting at the center, Taeyeon’s intent gaze oversees her club’s activities while engaged in a heated phone conversation, her scowl deepening with each word she mutters.

You assume these hosts weren’t booked for the night or are still waiting for their clients to arrive. Just as you’re about to advert your gaze, Hyunjin emerges from a door on the left. His hair is meticulously styled, slicked back to reveal his gorgeous face, and his tall figure is dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked neatly under an expensive-looking black blazer.

Hyunjin has always been beautiful in your eyes, but seeing him exude so much confidence stirs up something inside of you.

His mere presence captivates you so strongly you find it impossible to look away, even as his gaze meets yours. A look of utter bewilderment washes over his face as he stills his movements, looking almost startled. You two fall into an impromptu staring contest as if you’re attempting to communicate with your eyes alone until Naeun taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your haze.

“He’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”

Your brows knit together. “What?”

“The host you’re ogling at,” Naeun giggles, “I saw him on their website the first time we came here, but I was too late so I couldn’t get him to myself. I’m so glad you asked us to come tonight ‘cause I got to order him before he was booked,” she explains, and you feel as if all the air has frozen in your lungs. Hyunjin is the host your friend ordered. “I’m fucking broke now, but I know it’ll be worth it.”

You inwardly grimace at how she talks about Hyunjin, almost like he’s only a shiny toy she couldn’t buy in the past. That, coupled with how booking a host is so casually referred to as ordering, makes you feel a bit nauseous.

Hyunjin eventually walks over to your table, as you knew he would. He’s Naeun’s host for the night, after all. As he slowly strides toward your sofa, his focus remains solely on you. For a split second, his eyes flicker with something akin to sadness before he quickly resumes his usual persona.

He immediately takes Naeun’s hand, kissing her knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a sultry grin. The way he looks at her has the knot in your stomach tightening, aching with the realization that it’s the same way he always looks at you. You were never anything special or significant to each other — you’re well aware of that — but the sting you feel is unbearable for some reason.

Hyunjin sits beside Naeun, and his focus shifts entirely to her. His wandering hands leave a trail of goosebumps from her arms to her bare legs, while his whispered words make her cheeks flush a rosy pink. And it feels as if he’s completely ignoring your presence, which is such a foolish thought you almost feel ashamed. This is his job, but reminding yourself of that every couple of minutes somehow only makes you feel worse.

Because this isn’t a one-time thing, this happens every single time he works.

At some point, while you were too busy engrossed in Hyunjin and Naeun, Hana got a host of her own. With his bleached blonde hair, a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, and a deep, gentle voice, it seems he’s done his job at captivating her. Each host seems to embody a specific persona. From his less-touchy demeanor to the softness in his eyes when he looks at Hana, it’s clear that this guy is going for the caring boyfriend type.

As you remember how available hosts sometimes approach clients themselves, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. If they’re available, no one has booked them for the night, meaning they won’t earn a single dollar. Their focus will undoubtedly be on finding the wealthiest available patron. Hana came from old money, only working at your company after falling out with her family, but her head-to-toe Chanel attire radiates wealth. It’s no wonder this host so graciously chose to sit beside her.

Eventually, Hana is led to the large bar by her host, and the atmosphere in your little space becomes increasingly uncomfortable for you. Your neglected drink is now lukewarm, leaving a damp spot on the hem of your dress as condensation seeps through from where you rested the glass on your thighs.

Hyunjin leaves a few minutes later, taking Naeun by the hand. He briefly turns to look at you, his gaze now nearly unreadable. Only disappointment — or was it hurt? — flashes in his brown eyes before he walks away to lead her up that stairwell.

You sit alone for what feels like an eternity, the once bustling lounge slowly falling into a deafening silence around you. Jealousy and hurt intertwine inside your brain, spinning around in an endless cycle and making your head throb.

You’re only waiting until you’ve finished your way too expensive Cosmopolitan — far too warm to be enjoyable now — when a figure suddenly sits beside you. To your surprise, it’s a host. His styled dark brown hair is messy as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his black button-up shirt has the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins running along his forearms. He’s hot, there’s no denying, but your sour mood won’t be solved by some eye candy.

“Seems we’re both alone tonight,” he starts, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.

You simply hum, taking a final sip of your drink before placing the glass on the table. You’re not really in the mood to entertain this conversation, so you uncross your legs, ready to leave.

But your movements halt when his hand gently rests on your knee.

“You seem so lonely here all by yourself. Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, and your eyes narrow. He lets out a hearty laugh. “No need to act so suspicious, I’m just making an offer. We’re both alone. What’s the harm?”

To say you were skeptical would be an understatement. You clearly remember his face from the website as he was right beside Hyunjin, at the number two spot of the platinum tier, his price only slightly less offensively expensive.

“I’m Minho,” he offers his hand, which you reluctantly take after telling him your name. After your awkward handshake, you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he places your clasped hands on your lap, his thumb drawing circular shapes on your skin as he continues, “I waited all night for my client to show up. I could really use a distraction.”

Of course.

You take a deep breath, and your gaze shifts towards his face.

“I don’t have money to order you, sorry.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Minho’s lips, his hand leaving yours and finding the skin of your thighs. “How about I make this my treat, then? My client has this habit of ordering me and then ghosting me,” he sighs, “Isn’t that cruel? Taeyeon said she won’t let it fly anymore and is refusing to give her a refund for tonight.”

As Minho’s soft touch glides along your skin, his fingers inching closer to the hem of your dress, your mind replays the scene of Hyunjin’s hand on Naeun’s legs. The way he touched her mirrored how he had touched you so many times, and it replayed in your mind like a flickering film. It ignites the flame of ugly jealousy inside of you once more.

“Your treat?” You whisper, and Minho’s face inches closer to yours, your noses brushing together.

“I’d hate for a pretty girl like you to go home unsatisfied,” he whispers.

You’re walking up the gleaming steps of that staircase before you can make sense of what you’re doing. Minho’s hand doesn’t leave your skin for a second, fingers now gliding across your arms as he leads you down a wide corridor. You eye the place curiously, taking in the row of closed, dark wooden doors lining both sides of the hallway.

Minho leads you toward the only door that has been left ajar, and it finally dawns on you what happens on the second floor of The Siren.

The room is not large; a round bed occupies most of the space between the small bar and the dark velvet couch. Following your initial conversation with Hyunjin about this job, he consistently evaded any further questions you asked until you eventually gave up. You always assumed he found the subject boring, much like you did when forced to talk about your own job.

You knew his job as a host meant pampering women, making them feel wanted and tending to their every need throughout the night. It seems your brain conveniently failed to remember that it also implied having sex with them.

“I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You feel a shudder run through your body as those words ring inside your mind. That’s what extra fees meant.

Hyunjin led Naeun up those stairs. It doesn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing at that exact moment.

Minho locks the door behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, drawing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Is this okay?” His voice is gentle, with no pressure lingering in his words. You know you could say no, go back home, and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of the night.

But you don’t want to do that.

Because you know Hyunjin is currently fucking your friend. And, despite the rational side of your brain screaming that this is his job, it does little to extinguish the searing fire of jealousy that burns under your skin.

So, you allow yourself to fall into bed with Minho.

His touches are almost feather-light, his kisses gentle, and his movements deliberate as he fucks into you.

It feels good, but it’s not what you’re used to.

It’s not Hyunjin.

Hyunjin returned home as soon as he possibly could after his shift.

Any anger was dampened by the sadness and shame he felt because you had to see him at the club. It’s his job, but it’s a job he never truly loved. He feels vulnerable and powerless as a host, a stark contrast to what he feels when camming.

Taeyeon personally scouted him from his livestream. He was twenty and already making enough money to provide for himself. He didn’t need a new job, but the allure of the validation he knew it would provide him was enticing. Compliments and adoration fueled Hyunjin throughout his entire life. He knew it was a bit pathetic, but that was how he was taught to be.

During his training period, Taeyeon and the older hosts instructed him. They taught him how to erase his true self to fit into what would most appeal to clients. That was easy for Hyunjin. He’d already been doing that for most of his life.

He wasn’t tricked into anything. He was given a meticulous explanation of every minute detail of the job and was allowed to set hard limits for anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. Taeyeon treated the hosts like her family, like older and younger brothers she cared for. She provided apartments for those who came into the job with nothing, paid off student debts, and was always willing to listen to their problems.

She would be the perfect boss if not for her love of money.

Every host receives only 5% of any money they make for the club. Hyunjin, as the highest-paid host at The Siren, only makes around $100 per weekend — if he’s lucky enough to have clients booking him for extra services every night.

He knows he’s being exploited but can’t bring himself to quit.

When he first discovered the ranking system at the club, he turned to smoking because of pressure. Naturally, he started at the lowest tier but needed to climb as fast as possible. He was determined to do whatever it took to reach that number one spot. He bleached his hair, splashed out on clothes he didn’t like, and even took up groups of clients per night. Hyunjin had always found comfort in sex. He had complete control of the situation and the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason someone felt good was just another form of validation, like he was loved for as long as the sex lasted.

Sex at the club was never like that. It was a chore, something he did because he had to. It wasn’t anything like camming, and it wasn’t like having sex with someone he actually cared about.

It wasn’t anything like having sex with you.

Seeing you that night only made it harder for him to drag himself up those stairs and do what was expected of him.

Hyunjin got home that night and fell asleep on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything, especially shower, as the thought of facing his reflection in the mirror was unbearable. Different emotions swirled inside him like a tornado until they ultimately consumed him before he finally dozed off.

He thought he could trust you, thought you knew him well enough to understand why he wanted to keep this part of himself hidden from you. The night he first told you about this job, he put on a mask — like he always did — and put on his best act, playing up his arrogance despite how scared he felt. When you told him that same night he wasn’t anything worth falling for, and that you could be together only until you found something better, he felt as if his heart had shattered for the first time in his life.

That was the night he realized a mask couldn’t protect him from everything. Especially his own heart.

It wasn’t intentional — liking you this much hasn’t been exactly enjoyable. It simply happened. Because you were the only one who ever chipped away at his impenetrable wall and saw the closest thing to the real Hyunjin, yet still chose to stay.

You hadn’t stayed because of his looks; you two never cared about impressing each other.

You hadn’t stayed solely for the sex; you two often got together simply to enjoy each other’s company.

Hyunjin couldn’t be blamed for assuming you had stayed because you knew him. Not the mask he wore or the persona he showed to the world — the real him.

But tonight, even among all the designer clothes and expensive drinks, he felt as if you had just witnessed him at his lowest. And he could only hope you still chose to stay after that.

You’ve barely been awake for an hour when a knock echoes through your apartment. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, because there’s only one person who could be at the other side of the door.

After your jealousy-clouded brain made the asinine decision to sleep with Minho, you’ve locked away any and every thought into a pretty little box inside your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you had done because you knew the remorse would slowly erode your mind. You certainly didn’t want to think about Hyunjin, as even the faint memory of his eyes from the previous night would dig at your heart until it shattered.

But there was nowhere you could hide outside of your mind.

Hyunjin is quiet as you open the door, and he remains quiet as you two sit together on your couch. Your tea sits forgotten on your coffee table, and you focus on the swirls of steam rising from your mug as you endure his silence.

You force yourself to speak when your tea finally goes cold.

“I’m sorry,” you simply say.

Hyunjin’s hands tug at the sleeves of his sweater, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to the club without telling me?”

“I was angry at you,” You bite your lip, knowing your reasoning is ridiculous. “Because of the date…” you trail off, and Hyunjin turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he walked into your apartment.

“So you thought coming to my work would be a good idea?”

You shrug, instinctively looking away as you feel the intensity of his eyes on you. It was just like when you first met him, only it made you ashamed instead of flustered. You missed that initial lightness, but you knew that was long gone now. Sorting out your issues with Hyunjin was necessary if you ever hoped to have a healthy relationship. If every conversation turned into an argument that would only be avoided through sex, there was no point in dragging this on.

“I wasn’t thinking,” is all you can say.

Hyunjin scoffs. “That was kinda obvious.”

The biting tone in his voice makes you rise to your feet, shaking your head. You put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“What? You wanted me to be rational when I thought you were just playing with me?” You throw your hands up as you blurted out, exasperation consuming any remaining trace of pride within you. “When I thought you were having fun acting jealous and proposing dates only to come up with shitty excuses to shut it all down?”

“Playing with you?” Hyunjin mirrors your words, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance you had created. “I thought you knew me enough to know I mean it when I say something. I wanted to go on that date with you, and I was fucking jealous. That night you forced me to listen to you fuck another guy made me wanna punch my fucking wall.”

You open your lips, but no words come out.

You’re embarrassed. Going to The Siren wasn’t the first childish thing you had done out of spite because of Hyunjin. But your anger was never directed at him. It was always you; for allowing yourself to become so attached to him and like him so much that it drove you mad.

Going on that date simply to rile Hyunjin up, showing up at his job because you felt entitled to when your mind insisted you had been wronged — that was all you and your stupid mind being incapable of accepting the fact that you have fallen for the guy you swore would never be of any significance to you.

The guy you so proudly declared unworthy of falling for.

“Are you really not gonna say anything?” Hyunjin lets out a weak laugh, and when your eyes meet again, his expression leaves no room for doubt this time. Sadness swims freely in his eyes while they well up with tears that he vigorously fights to hold back. “I thought you knew me,” he reiterates. “Thought you stayed because you knew…” He trails off, shaking his head.

As he turns to leave, you instinctively reach out for him. After nine months of knowing each other, you hold his hand for the first time.

“I do know you, Hyunjin,” you blurt out, squeezing his hand when he refuses to look at you. “I stayed because I know you. Beyond your rankings, beyond that club, beyond this damn wall you built around yourself. At least a little bit, I know you.”

He takes a deep breath before his eyes lock on yours again. “I feel like you’ve been tearing down brick by brick of my wall.” He’s the one to squeeze your hand this time. “I kinda fucking hate that.”

You attempt to stifle a chuckle, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Hyunjin smiles.

“I’d love to know you even more, beyond this mask you wear all the time,” you confess. And you’re tired of hiding behind your own mask, so you tell him, “It’s tiring feeling like I only know half of who you truly are when I already like you so fucking much as it is.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen, surprise eclipsing any trace of his initial sadness.

“What? You like me?” He sputters, and you bite your lips as a smile spreads on your lips.

You cannot believe this is the same Hyunjin whose ego made you want to punch his face.

“Well, no shit,” you chuckle. “Why do you think I put up with you for so long? Don’t you think if I was looking for something better, I would’ve found it already?”

Hyunjin’s lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, his fingertips barely brushing against your skin as he cupped your face.

Your lips part for him, and a low hum resonates from his chest. You wrap your free arm around his shoulder, your hands still tightly intertwined, and pull him closer to you. It’s an awkward position, but neither of you is willing to unclasp your hands.

Hyunjin’s tongue glides languidly into your open lips, making you clutch at his arm as your mind goes dizzy. You had never kissed like this — always too impatient and lust-drunk to savor the feeling of each other’s lips properly.

It sends your entire body ablaze.

He’s pulling away far too soon, tugging at your bottom lip with a small smile.

“I’m not something better, but I’m gonna be,” he mutters against your lips. “For you.”

But you shake your head. “Just let me in. You’re already more than enough.”

In order for your efforts to work, you and Hyunjin established three crucial rules: absolute honesty, open communication, and no fucking until significant progress is made.

You start slowly, with that unfulfilled date that had been the catalyst for you two finally confronting your feelings.

Hyunjin was nervous. The few times he’s gone on dates, his mind was set on wrapping it up as soon as possible to take the person home. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did; every date inevitably led to his bed.

This time was different.

You certainly weren’t expecting to have a picnic on a Saturday afternoon. Your surprise was evident as your eyes widened at the sight before you: Hyunjin, standing at your door with a picnic basket and a digital camera slung around his neck. When you jokingly commented on how that was the most un-Hyunjin thing you had ever seen him do, he nonchalantly shrugged.

As you two sat together under a tree, however, he told you he’s always loved picnics. Growing up near a park, picnics became a family tradition that started when he was just a kid and still happens whenever he visits his parents. The silly smile that was etched onto your lips lingered throughout the entire day. Hyunjin’s closed-off nature made that small piece of information feel like a precious gem you had just collected. It was far greater than any of the pointless conversations you two had in the last nine months.

It felt like watching another brick from his once towering wall shatter to the ground.

Hyunjin quit his job at the club a month after your first date.

He didn’t elaborate on it at first, simply telling you it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You had now learned it was best to give him space, as his tendency to shut himself off only worsened if he felt pressured. Deep inside, Hyunjin yearned to share every little detail about himself with you and hear your own stories in return. However, years of keeping everyone at a comfortable distance hindered his ability to open up without feeling vulnerable.

So you only pulled him into a hug, running your hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. You two then set off for your date at a bakery close to your apartments, with the subject seemingly forgotten.

Until Hyunjin suddenly told you the entire truth under a lamppost in front of your building. He whispered that he didn’t want to go home yet, and you found yourselves sitting on the sidewalk as you listened to his story. You weren’t exactly shocked at the information dumped on you, but it still made your heart sore. He was taken advantage of because he longed to feel accepted, to feel loved.

During the elevator ride, you could tell Hyunjin was struggling to hold back tears with every ounce of his strength. You know he was eager to be alone when he pressed a weak kiss to your forehead before heading towards his door. So you reached out for his hand once more and pulled him toward your apartment despite his protests.

That night, Hyunjin struggled to suppress his tears until they ultimately overflowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks as you held him on the couch. Before you knew it, tears unwittingly streamed down your face as well. It was as if your emotions were a mirror image of his.

Another brick down.

You discover Hyunjin’s love for photography by accident.

Everywhere you went together, his camera was draped around his neck. At first, you paid little attention to that detail. His job consisted of being in front of a camera; it wouldn’t be outrageous to surmise he simply enjoyed documenting his daily life. You teased him about it one day as he stopped in front of a flower shop to snap yet another picture. He shrugged, casually telling you he’d been taking pictures since his teenage years, later majoring in photography before dropping out of university.

Unable to tame your nagging curiosity, you urged him to show you his pictures. Nestled deep inside his wardrobe were several boxes filled with photographs he had taken over the years. Most captured the simple beauty of ordinary places and simple things, like the pretty flowers he saw at the shop you walked past, but some showed people candidly laughing while immersed in the happiness of their daily lives in parks or museums.

He wore an unabashed grin on his lips when he opened another box, this one containing around ten developed pictures of you. Among the small pile of photos, one catches your eye: your smiling side profile beaming at a group of kids, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. You turn the picture around, and the words “First date. I was so nervous, and she was so pretty” are scribbled in black sharpie. Hyunjin groaned beside you, telling you he just jotted down something stupid without much thought. It made you smile like a kid.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a weak chuckle, “I never show them to anybody. None of them are really good, anyway.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. His pictures were beautiful, perfectly depicting how happiness and mundanity often blended into one unbeknownst to people. But Hyunjin noticed, with his camera always ready at the right time for the perfect shot, even with things as small as a snapshot of your first date.

“They’re amazing, Hyunjin,” you told him matter-of-factly. “This is the kind of thing you’d find in art galleries. I can’t believe you keep this talent hidden.”

He shrugs your words off at first, taking a photo in his hand and studying it for a few seconds. His lips curve into a small smile, shyly at first, until his face is beaming as he looks down at his work. You can’t help but smile along, noticing how his cheeks blushed for the first time since you met him.

Another brick down.

In two months, you and Hyunjin went from meeting only at your apartments to going on weekly dates and from pointless bickering to actually understanding each other. The more he opened up, the more you found yourself being vulnerable around him as well.

You learned Hyunjin’s confidence was truthfully a part of him; he simply played it up to a maddening degree to protect himself. He is a confident man, but he’s certainly not the egotistical idiot you once believed him to be.

Your suspicions about him secretly being a softie were also confirmed as you witnessed him cry nearly every time you watched the romance movies he sheepishly confessed to loving. At first, he would sniffle, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat, before excusing himself to the bathroom. A few movies later, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you for the second time. He’s proven to be a certified crier since then, often laying his head on your chest and silently shedding tears while you played with his hair.

At the end of the day, Hyunjin was a flawed, complex person like any other. He wasn’t always soft and sensitive, but he wasn’t only a cocky and smug little shit, either.

You found you loved both sides of him equally.

Your rules proved to be exactly what you needed, as you only felt closer to Hyunjin each passing day.

But a particular rule became your number one enemy after a month.

Your pent-up sexual frustration seemed to escalate with each passing day, fueling an increasing desire to just say fuck it and climb on top of Hyunjin. It certainly didn’t help that he was even clingier now, long limbs always tangling with yours when you lay on the couch, or his warm body pressing against you while you were cooking. Not to mention that you listened to him livestream every weekend. You opted to wait in his living room — because watching him would just be masochistic — but it felt like you had been transported back in time. Sitting alone for hours and listening to him moan was still as torturous as the first time it had happened. Even if you touched yourself to the sound of his voice, it was never enough.

You knew what you needed, but you have been essentially blueballing yourself for a month now.

As you two lie on your bed, watching another sappy romance movie, you can feel the heat rising inside your body, like a thermometer reaching its peak. You were fully expecting Hyunjin to cry, but this movie turned out to be far more erotic than romantic. His persistent need to have his lips on you — be it with a kiss or with lazy nibbles on your neck — also certainly doesn’t help your suffering.

You power through as you watch the love interests making out while Hyunjin lightly presses his lips to your neck, his body all but caging you against your bed. But the moment the couple heads to the bedroom, hastily undressing each other with heavy pants and sighs, you absentmindedly part your legs. Hyunjin is hovering above you before you can make sense of what’s happening, your laptop carelessly thrown to the side. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly between your thighs, as his darkening eyes bore into you.

“Hyunjin,” you have half a mind to say, “Our rule.”

He simply nods, and goosebumps ripple across your body when you feel his hardening member brush against you.

“We made progress,” he states with a grin. “You even let me into your room now.”

“It’s not enough to justify fucking again.”

As much as you were desperate for it.

He swallows slowly, nodding and bending his face to yours. “But our rule says no fucking,” he reasons. “If I make love to you, then it won’t even count.”

“Love?” You whisper, and the thermometer shatters as he presses a long kiss to your open lips.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles between kisses, brushing his lips against yours. “Love.”

It’s not a clear confession, not a beautiful I love you whispered between kisses — but you know Hyunjin, and the sincerity in his voice says everything.

Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as you pull him even closer to you, and he promptly presses his mouth against yours, his tongue teasingly gliding across your bottom lip. Each roll of your hips ignites the heat within you like scorching lava, your desire swallowing you entirely after so long of craving this.

His tongue presses against yours, effortlessly taking control of the kiss, capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and traveling toward your jaw. He sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth with a hum, drawing out a whimper from your lips while he moves down the column of your neck. Smiling against your collarbone, Hyunjin alternates between harsh nibbles and soft kisses, leaving blooming rosy spots on every inch of your skin. He travels toward your chest, his hands slipping under your shirt and brushing your skin before tugging off the fabric.

Hyunjin’s hands cup your breasts, your nipples tightening under his attention, and his lips move down your body, placing kisses from your chest to your stomach. His hand eagerly kneads the soft skin of your chest while the other pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingertips.

“I missed this,” he whispers, voice muffled against your skin, and you let out a shaky breath as a response when his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “That was a stupid rule.”

“Shut up.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It was a great rule, it helped us make progress.”

“Fuck progress,” Hyunjin groans, tugging your sweatpants off.

He wastes no time hoisting your legs over his shoulders, causing you to shudder and goosebumps to ripple through your body when his lips close around your clit without warning. His tongue licks long stripes up the length of your slit, his fingers spreading you open so he can lap at your arousal with a low hum. Hyunjin’s thumb rubs circles around your clit as his lips find your inner thighs, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving another blushing trail of his yearning for you.

His tongue delves into your wetness, savoring you with tantalizing, pleasure-filled groans that travel through your cunt. The insistent throb between your thighs intensifies, your hand tugging at his hair and your hips rolling into his touch as you arch your back. Hyunjin’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs while you reach your peak, his teeth pulling your clit gently as you come with a broken cry.

Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are heavy with lust when he looks at you, his firm grip keeping your legs over his shoulders.

“You still think that rule was great?” Hyunjin gives you a lopsided grin that almost has you rolling your eyes, only he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, rending you unable to do anything but mewl and tug at his hair. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your inner thighs once more, his eyes still locked onto yours.

You needed him closer, his strong arms surrounding you and his scent enveloping your senses until you felt dizzy. The mere thought of his cock has you clenching, arousal trickling down your slit, and you tug at his hair harshly with a whine.

Hyunjin climbs over you again, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid movement and crashing his lips into yours, the taste of your release swirling in your mouth as your tongues meet.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he chides. You simply hum, his thick length brushing against your core as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re one to talk,” you smirk, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips up into his erection. Hyunjin scoffs, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them over your head, his eyes darkening as he looms over you.

There’s no more push and pull between you two during your daily lives, but it’s something you hope never fades away during sex. You’re sure Hyunjin’s need to have control, coupled with your taste for riling him up, will make sure that never happens.

But Hyunjin has no intentions of making you beg tonight — not after so many weeks of making himself cum to the thought of your pretty cunt, knowing that damn rule kept him from actually having you.

He tugs his sweatpants out of his way, one hand still pinning your wrists to the mattress. You bite your lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavily, tantalizingly close to your sopping cunt. Hyunjin strokes himself hastily, clearly having grown impatient, precum dribbling from the ruddy head of his cock and easing the glide of his fist.

The swollen tip slides against your wetness, and he lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. The delicious stretch as he presses inside has your hands instinctively reaching out to him. But his grip on your wrists only tightens, keeping them in place as he leans into you, stretching you further with a hiss.

“Fuck, I missed being buried in your cunt,” Hyunjin mumbles, and you moan as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Always so tight, like you were made for me.”

He sheaths himself inside of you completely, and you arch your back with a groan as his cock twitches inside your sensitive spot.

“Made just for you,” you choke out as Hyunjin slowly thrusts into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate movements making you dig your nails into your palms. “Hyunjin,” his name dissipates into a whine as he pushes his cock in and out of you languidly.

He chuckles against the shell of your ear, and you wrap your legs around his torso, rolling your hips faster against him. The drawn-out moan that escapes his lips has your cunt clenching and leaking more arousal around his length.

“D’you still like the sound of my voice that much?” He hums, and you nod with a sigh. His slender fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Yeah? Like it when I moan in your ear?”

He finally picks up the pace, pulling back before snapping his hips forward. His lips swallow your moans as he kisses you once, his hand finally releasing your wrists and digging into your hips as he pumps his cock into you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your sweaty skin, tracing his tongue along the marks he left earlier.

“You’re mine,” he groans against your skin. “Been dying to say this for so fucking long.”

You gasp at his words, your body jerking when he slips his hand down to circle around your swollen clit. “‘M yours,” you whine, “Fuck me like I’m yours. Please—”

Hyunjin groans, your words igniting a fire within him, and his hips fall into a ruthless pace, pistoning his cock into you while his fingertips expertly stroke your clit. The hot coil of desire in your stomach tightens, finally breaking as your climax surges through every fiber of your being, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, you always feel so good,” Hyunjin rasps out, his movements shifting into a messy tempo. “Gonna fill you up, okay?”

You nod with a whimper, your overstimulated cunt clenching around his cock as his thrusts remain unrelenting. With a low grunt that ripples through his chest, Hyunjin’s hips slam into yours, his cock twitching and his grip on your throat tightening. He paints your insides with a final testament that you were his.

He stills on top of you, pressing featherlight kisses to your cheeks and lips, his cock softening inside of you as you stay that way for a while. When he pulls out, his fingers promptly smear his cum over your cunt as it leaks out, two digits thrusting his release back into you with a contented hum.

“Can we still fuck now that I found something better?” You ask him with a grin, and he laughs, burying his head in your neck.

Your mind is wholly clouded with bliss — both from your orgasm and the feeling of love that courses through your veins. You inwardly laugh. Hyunjin fucking you in your bedroom had definitely not tainted it. He had basically transformed your bed into a sanctuary.

Hyunjin helps you shower, gentle hands wash and caress your body before coaxing your third orgasm out of you under the soothing cascading water. He makes you a cup of your favorite tea the way you love it — which he made sure to memorize — and insists you two finish watching the forgotten movie before going to bed. It feels awfully domestic, and it would be a lie to say you hated it.

That night, you fall asleep beside Hyunjin in your bed for the first time; inside a little sacred space you are slowly building with him.

It was never your intention to be his. You were certain Hyunjin was the type of man who would never allow himself to be vulnerable, to truly fall in love with someone without his ego getting in the way. By keeping him at arm’s length, you believed you were guarding yourself from inevitable heartache.

Behind his cocky smirks and self-assured words, an amazing man hid himself out of deep-seated fears of rejection, unworthiness, and not being loved for his true self. Each day, he allowed glimpses of himself to shine through the cracks in his fortress. He became an enigma you were dying to unravel because you knew he was worth it.

Because you knew him.

And unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin has been yours all along. From the moment you walked into his apartment with a scowl and frustration-filled words, it was as if his heart became wired to crave you. He was simply hoping and waiting for you to become his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @wormieieie, @soonie1010, @dessianna1, @minimin1993, @idontlikecoffeeortea, @ashleighland, @oddracha, @sushiinmidnight, @lailac13, @badmaeda, @hynjinniesworld, @iheartjazz444, @cypher-girlx, @isagerada, @leviathanlee26, @sailor--sun, @binniesbabygirl

[bandgie]

Free Use - Hyung Line

maknae line

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, !!free-use is legal and public!!, public sex (duhhh), dry humping, gangbangs (implied), pussy easting, sex photography, reader is called slut

notes: longer version of this ask! to be clear, this is a free-use society so if you're not comfortable with that, don't read it pls! thanks :)

BANGCHAN! - even if it's completely legal to fuck you in public, chan can't bring himself to. your moans, whimpers, cries... those are for his ears (and maybe a few close friends) but that doesn't mean he won't do a few things - main one is arguably dry humping. standing behind you while waiting in a line for some boba and his hands settle on your hips. it's cute at first, but his grip tightens. you'll arch your back further into him because you know what he wants, you can feel it. - he grinds his hips softly on your ass. guiding his cock over your body before sliding it out to put it between your thighs. He breathlessly moans in your ear, one hand moving to grope your chest over your shirt. if he gets really into it, chan will push your head down once you make it to the counter and rut into you like he's actually fucking you and still order. - another that's more intense is when he's working in the studio. he's got you pretty and nice on his lap. Changbin and Han are so used to you riding his thigh that they hardly notice your moans anymore. - no shorts, no underwear. just your bare pussy on his leg while you hump him desperately. in a way, this is more degrading since people will come in and out of the studio, asking for adjustments and adding things to the schedule acting like they can't see you rocking your hips on his flexed thigh. but it still doesn't stop you from quietly pleading for his friends to have a turn too.

"I dunno, babe. I've got a lot of work. Why don't you keep doing this and if you're a good girl, I'll think about it."

MINHO! - total opposite of chan, he is 100% fucking you in public. everyone needs to see how much a slut you are, how much you love being fucked no matter the time of day. just cuz he's a little shit, minho will purposely fuck you in places you're supposed to be quiet. on a bus, a train, the library, the possibilities are endless - the bus though? his favorite. there's so many eyes silently watching him bounce you on his lap. all his has to do is tap his thigh and you know to lift your skirt up and sink onto his cock. no underwear on because why would you? - he wants you to be loud, he wants the people around you to join in. to twist your nipples and shove fingers in your mouth. some people will look at you with disgust wondering why mandated free use is even legal. most will be jealous though, asking minho if you're up for grabs or if you're personal use - and when it's finally your stop, he'll slide out of you and feel the way your pussy clings onto him. a few people might follow you guys until he stops at an alleyway (he has some decency) and bends you over the air.

"You can use any hole you want, but her pussy's mine."

CHANGBIN! - you're public free-use when he first meets you. there's just something about your moans, the way you move your hips, the aroused look in your eye. changbin doesn't usually engage with mandated free-use sluts but you catch his eye right at the start - he'll frequent at the place you do service at and watch most of the time. jerking himself off at the same pace you're bouncing on a cock. but he'll work up the courage and finally take you like he's been wanting to, flipping you around to get a up close view of your face - gosh, you're perfect. fucked out expression, swollen lips, cum dripping down your pretty body. how has no one made you a personal slut yet? changbin taps his fat tip on your clit, watching your body vibrate in overstimulated pleasure - he takes a long time, the people behind him growing impatient, but he doesn't care. you deserve to be praised, to be cherished. your walls are so soft and warm when he slides in, most likely from the previous people fucking you endlessly, but changbin hardly minds the fact. he presses his cock deep in you, feeling your pussy spasm and clench. and when he slides out? he gets to see all of your cream coating his length.

"So pretty. Pretty, pretty girl. You're not personal yet, right? Binnie will take care of you. Binnie can make you feel like this everyday."

HYUNJIN! - even though you're the one who's free-use, hyunjin acts like he is. he always worships you, in or out of the bedroom. he'll bring you to his photoshoots and surprises you with being photographed! the makeup artists and hair dresses doll you up so nice and pretty. you look beautiful, how can Hyunjin stay away? - with the cameras shuttering, he'll get on his knees and hook one of your legs over his shoulder. peeling the dress up to expose your sweet cunt. the makeup artists will scowl since the'll have to redo it and the hairdressers groan when you thread your fingers through his carefully styled hair, but he doesn't care - the photographers will make the best of what they can. there's no use in trying to pry Hyunjin away from you. your pussy tastes too sweet, too inviting on his tongue. so you'll be able to hear the rapid clicks of cameras and see the flashes of light while orgasming in his mouth - it's definitely a little strange to see yourself on the front cover of a magazine with hyunjin between your legs, but it's even stranger that it looks good!

"You look like an angel. You're shy? Don't be shy! You're beautiful, everyone needs to see that."

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐚

pairing: drew starkey x you ft brooke starkey

summary: when you and brooke decide to pull a prank on drew during a casual saturday lunch at his house, it’s all in good fun. drew’s protective streak as both a big brother to brooke and a boyfriend to you has always been one of his most endearing and amusing qualities. so, when you drop a casual bombshell about having a “male waxer” at the spa, drew’s reaction is priceless. shock, confusion, and hilariously protective instincts take over as he tries to process this unexpected bit of news.

warning(s): english is not my native language. light humor, playful pranks, and drew’s classic overprotective antics, no use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are very much appreciated. please be nice, thank you and enjoy.

Drew was in high spirits as he set the table for lunch, a relaxed grin on his face. He’d spent so many months on set for Outer Banks, and it was clear he was thrilled to unwind with the people he cared most about. Little did he know, you and Brooke were about to test just how protective he could get.

As you and Brooke shared a mischievous look across the table, you kicked off the prank.

“Hey, Brooke,” you began casually, glancing at Drew to see if he was listening, “thanks for recommending that spa the other day! It was, uh… an experience.”

“Oh, you finally went!” Brooke said, playing along perfectly.

“How was it? I told you they’re really good, right?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, they assigned me a guy for the wax. Super professional and all, but, you know, unexpected.”

Drew’s fork froze halfway to his mouth, his eyes snapping to you, wide with surprise.

“Wait… a guy? Like, for… the wax?” He looked genuinely baffled, trying to process this information.

You fought so hard keep your expression neutral, nodding casually.

“Yeah, he was great at it, honestly. Didn’t feel a thing. Super smooth process.”

Drew’s face morphed from confusion to full-on disbelief. He put his fork down slowly, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words.

“Wait… you mean… like a full wax? By a… guy? That’s even legal?”

You shrugged, pretending not to notice his growing panic. “Yeah! Brooke goes there too. And of course it was legal”

Brooke jumped in, barely able to suppress her grin.

“Oh, yeah, I get a guy a few time. They’re just more efficient, you know? Totally professional.”

Drew’s jaw practically dropped. He looked from Brooke to you, then back to Brooke, struggling to comprehend this new reality.

“Wait, Brooke… you, too? Both of you… by some random guy?”

You could see the protectiveness flaring in his eyes. Drew was always so protective of both of you, and he looked like he was about to burst with a mix of confusion, disbelief, and was that a hint of jealousy? not sure.

“Yeah, babe, it’s not a big deal,” you added, feigning nonchalance as you twirled your fork in your pasta.

“He was a total pro, super respectful.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed.

“Respectful or not, that’s still… strange, right?” He looked at Brooke, hoping she’d agree with him. “I mean, you don’t think that’s, like… kind of weird?”

Brooke shook her head, acting entirely unbothered. “Nope. Honestly, it’s easier you know they don’t make a big deal out of anything, and they’re more… what’s the word; thorough.”

Drew looked absolutely bewildered, his eyes flicking between you and Brooke as if waiting for one of you to reveal it was all a joke.

“Wait… thorough? What… what does that even mean? And how is that not weird?” He turned to you, looking betrayed.

“And why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile. “I mean, Drew, it’s a spa treatment, not a big deal. It’s not like I’d come home and say, ‘Hey, I got waxed by a guy today.’ with a very proud face on.”

“But maybe you should have!” Drew said, crossing his arms with a pout. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“Oh, come on,” Brooke teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t be so overprotective, Drew. It’s just a wax.”

Drew’s face was priceless with half annoyed, half helplessly confused.

“I’m not being overprotective, I’m just… I mean… come on!” He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely baffled. “This is just… I can’t believe both of you think this is totally fine.”

You and Brooke exchanged a glance, both struggling to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“Oh, Drew,” you sighed, leaning over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“He’s a professional. I didn’t even feel anything, it was so quick and easy.”

“‘Didn’t feel anything’?!” Drew repeated, looking even more scandalized. “I don’t care if it was painless! It was still a guy, right? Like, a random guy?”

Brooke grinned, piling on, “Oh, he’s not random. I think his name was… Carlos?”

“Oh, mine was Vincent, he’s Italian by the way.” You said

Drew’s face turned red.

“Carlos?! and Vincent?! So he’s got a name now? You ladies on a first-name basis with these guy who… I mean…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts. “Does this Carlos, Vincent know I exist?”

You bit your lip, feigning a thoughtful look. “Honestly, I didn’t mention you. But maybe next time?”

Drew groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Next time? Oh, come on, you’re kidding me.”

“Drew, calm down,” Brooke said, barely containing her laughter.

“We’re just trying to live our best, smooth-legged lives here. Can you blame us?”

Drew looked at her with an exasperated expression. “Yeah, but does that really have to include some guy named—whatever his name is? You know, it’s kind of my job to protect you both from… well… guys like that!”

At that, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You and Brooke burst into laughter, doubling over as Drew continued to stare at you both in utter disbelief.

“Wait… are you two… Are you serious?” Drew asked, the realization slowly dawning on him as he watched you both laughing uncontrollably. “Oh my god, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He continue, “Oh, yes you are, and it’s not fun ladies”

Through your laughter, you managed to say, “Yes, Drew! There’s no Carlos or Vincent! It’s a prank!”

Drew let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in his chair, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with you. “Oh, you two are evil. Seriously, I’ve been through a lot on set, and this is what I come home to?”

You wiped a tear from your eye, grinning. “Well, we missed you, so we thought we’d welcome you back with some… excitement.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head as he reached over to pull you into a playful hug. “Excitement, huh? You know, payback’s coming for both of you. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, we’re ready,” Brooke teased, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Hit us with your best shot, Drew.”

Drew rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling.

“You two are lucky I love you, because if anyone else pulled something like that on me…” He shook his head, feigning a serious look. “Carlos and Vincent, though? Really?”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “We knew that would get you. What a sexy name for a man”

“Yeah, well, it did,” he admitted, sighing as he gave you a playful squeeze.

“But next time, I’m not falling for it. Just so you know.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” you said, grinning.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Summer of love | B.B

Just before summer break you think you will spend all day in front of the television with lot of ice cream and even more romantic movies to dream about. Little do you know that your ex-boyfriend’s rival will turn your summer into a dream itself.

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x College!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 11.106 Words

Warnings: college au, football captain Bucky, ex-boyfriend’s rival!Bucky, break up (not Bucky), fluff, love, bit angst, Bucky being emotional, love confession, more fluff, so much more fluff, did I mention: fluff!

Authors Note: The biggest thank you to @thevillainswhore for the title, for helping to decide pictures and proofreading. I’m so grateful and I love you!❤️❤️

Events: Writing Challenge | College Au; saying ‘I love you’ for the first time | @elixirfromthestars

Bucky Barnes Bingo | B023 | Y2 | AU: Sports | @buckybarnesbingo | Seasonal Delights Bingo: Types of love | G5 | unlikely friendship | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Multifandom Flash Bingo: Compliments | Row One-Three | I’ll take that as a compliment | @multifandom-flash

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Your world broke down when you looked at your phone and saw the message your boyfriend — now ex-boyfriend — sent you. It was just after the last lesson of the day — summer break had started.

You were sure as hell that he was going to fuck every girl that had an interest in him, which were a lot considering he was the captain of one of the college’s football teams.. He was handsome and well trained but his character? Well, that was something you would prefer not to talk about.

John was a nice, gentle boy when the two of you were alone. He took care of you and made you feel loved — most of the time at least. But whenever he was around his friends or anywhere the two of you could be seen together, he kept his distance. He didn’t bother to hold your hand or kiss you in public. When you had dates outside your dorms, it was mostly in small coffee shops or the next town where no one would see you together.

When you repeatedly asked him if he was ashamed,  he would just shake his head and tell you that you overreacted, that he just has to keep his image, he couldn’t  just date anybody. You tried to tell him that other boys show off their girls too but he still kept your relationship as much a secret as possible.

Even though people heard the rumor that the two of you were dating — some of them having seen you —he never made it clear that you belong to him. So you often had the bitchy girls who laughed at you, gave you side eyes or commented on your relationship with John. ‘How fake it was’ — and maybe they were right.

However, while John was probably using his whole summer to have fun and fuck around — having the best time ever — you would probably sit in your room and cry until your eyes burned. He hadn’t treated you as perfect as you wished for, like men do in your romantic books or movies, but he still ripped your heart out and shattered it into tiny little pieces. So, chocolate and lots of ice cream would become your best friends during your summer break, giving you the comfort you so desperately sought. You were sure you wouldn’t find a man who  would love you.

Maybe it wasn't even  that he broke up with you that hurt you so much, but the way he did it — through a message. He didn’t even have enough balls to tell you personally that he was done with you. No, he sent it as a message — two messages in fact, which now that you thought about it, made you want to punch him in his face. Hard.

You figured that was the reason why he hadn’t told you face to face. Because he didn’t want the backlash of your reaction. You may have been angry, but you would never lay a hand on him — even if he did deserve it. He may have broken your heart but you weren’t a monster. But for now, you were still sitting in school, staring at the message to try and find a little hint that it all was a joke. Your eyes were teary and your vision blurry when you re-read the message over and over again. There had to be a hint that it was a joke. He wouldn’t break up with you, right?

The feeling that John really meant those words settled heavily into your stomach. You inhaled deeply to try and stop your body from shaking. He couldn’t  mean it — he just couldn’t. The two of you were together for two years already and he threw it away like it meant nothing to him. Or maybe the reason he mentioned in his messages is true and he just wanted to have a summer break.

Your eyes roamed over your phone once again. The screen was blurred by your tears but you could still read it. Over and over again but it didn’t change a thing, it only made your thoughts run faster and  louder, but nothing else.

John: Hi, I’ll make it short. Things between us became boring and I know you wouldn’t allow me to have sex with anyone. Even though there wouldn’t be any feelings, I have to break up with you.

John: It’s neither your nor my fault, we just remind me of old people. We’re always doing the same things and I need action. So if you give me the summer break, we can date after the summer again.

He was your first real boyfriend but you didn't want to be second best. That’s exactly what you would be if you went back to him after summer break. He broke your heart, and he hurt you a lot — but that didn’t  mean you were a naive, little fucktoy for him to use becuase it was easy to date you. You never complained much and he always had you when he didn't feel well or frustrated.

And John may have been right that things between the two of you became boring, but he never had time for you in the first place. Everything else was more important and when he did have time for you, it was mostly sex or he came over really late. The dates became very rare, and you just wished he would have had more time for you but you didn’t want to push him or force him either.

You lowered your phone and inhaled deeply. With one hand you wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm down before you felt ready to go home. They all were right, he played with you, or at least he was ashamed to be with you and you never noticed — or just ignored it.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” A rough voice came from next to you and you immediately tilted your head to look at the young man who took a place next to you on a chair. His brown, long hair was tied to a bun, just a few strands fell into his handsome face and framed it. He smiled softly at you, leaning on the table with his head still turned toward you. “Who’s causing those tears?”

His smile slowly faded when he noticed your red eyes and the traces of tears over your cheek. Almost instinctively, he brought one of his hands to your cheeks, cupping it softly. His thumb caressed your cheek, removing the tears. The brown haired man was gentle, his ocean blue eyes pierced into yours and when you finally offered him a soft smile, he grinned at you, again.

“So, who caused this pretty girl to cry at the beginning of summer break,” he asked, his voice rough but so soft. You almost melted into his touch, his warmth sending shivers through your body and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts before you spoke.

“I— my boyfriend or now ex-boyfriend. He sent me a message that he wants to have the summer for himself and after we could date again,” you answered, smiling softly at the man in front of you. He shook his head, knowing that the smile on your lips was nothing but fake, and as much as he loved to see you smile, he didn’t  want you to force one onto your lips to play your hurt off. “What are you doing here still, James?”

James’ eyes widened when his name slipped past your lips. Before he could stop himself, he grinned even wider at you. “Ya know my name, huh, babydoll? I had something to clear up with the coach.”

“Of course, I do. You're one of the most famous boys in college,” you said and he nodded. You weren’t  wrong. Even students who didn’t follow football knew of him too. On the other hand, your ex-boyfriend was James' rival. “You're the captain of the football team, or the captain of one of them. The other is John…”

James nodded again, then he cleared his throat and tilted your head up with his hand that still captured your cheek. “Yeah…” he trailed off slightly. “So, can we get back to ya statement, that he sent ya a message to break up with ya. Ya know that’s how little school boys do it.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. You definitely knew that it wasn’t a nice way to break up with someone you used to love but you couldn’t change it. You let your eyes trail over James' handsome face for a moment, taking in every small detail of his pretty face. You had never been this close to him before and he looked even more stunning up close.

“Ya droolin’, babydoll,” James pointed out and used his pointer finger to close your mouth. Your eyes widened and you wiped over your mouth, growling at him when you didn't feel the saliva. “Jus’ wanted to warn ya before ya make a fool out of ya'self.”

You nodded, glaring at him for a moment longer before you finally found the courage and the words to tell him what was on your mind since he mentioned that John's behavior was kind of childish. You inhaled deeply, letting your eyes wander back to his beautiful blue ones. Your tongue poked out, wetting your lips and you noticed with a giggle that James eyes immediately darted down to your lips.

“It's not the only shitty thing he did,” you mumbled. James' eyes widened in curiosity. He didn’t  want to push you to tell him, but he would have loved to hear what his rival was like when he had such a pretty girl like you by his side. “He said we became boring, and that's neither mine nor his fault. Maybe he is right, but he never had time, it was mostly about sex, or nights together but otherwise he was always busy.”

You weren’t even sure why you told James about that but he was the only one who seemed curious and you just hoped he wouldn't use it against you. If anything, he would probably only use it against John.

James nodded, his eyes narrowed and he looked away for a moment. His hand never left your cheek and it gave you more comfort than you thought it would. But you were glad he sat down next to you and used his time to let you talk about John, offering you the comfort you were seeking so badly. When he looked back at you, his eyes glistened with something you had never seen before but it made you feel warm and safe with him.

“What a shame, with such a pretty girl by his side too…” he mumbled more to himself. “Did he at least introduce ya to his friends and family? The two of ya were together for over two years, right?”

You nodded slightly, definitely surprised by James' knowledge of your and John's relationship. “Yes but he didn't introduce me to his family. I know his friends but not really, he always tried to meet up when no one else was around.”

“So….” James trailed off, he already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it again — he wanted to hear that John was a dick who couldn't treat his girlfriend like a man but like a school boy. His ocean blue eyes were piercing into yours again, his lips were slightly curled up. “He didn't show you off — neither to his family, nor to his friends, when possible — not to the world?”

You shook your head. “N-No, not once… his friends saw us together maybe once or twice but we never went to their birthdays together. I-I was invited too, but John said I wouldn't like it there so he already told them I wasn’t interested in coming to their parties.”

“Dickhead,” James mumbled under his breath. His eyes never left yours and he inhaled deeply. “He's an idiot.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. But as much as you tried to hide the pain, it didn’t work with Bucky looking at you so intensely like he could read your soul. His fingers still caressed your cheek, two of them moving to your jaw and wandering along to your chin and back to your ear. “It's not that much of a big deal…”

James huffed with an amused expression on his face, shaking his head slightly. The few strands that hung in his face moved with his head from side to side. You wanted to wrap them around your fingers and play with his brown strands. “Oh, ya don't know how much of a big deal that is when a boy doesn't show off his girl by his side. If ya were mine, I would show you off to everyone — would make sure everyone knows you belong to me. I would even kiss ya in public, so everyone would know that this pretty girl is mine — would show ya off to everyone! Whatever ya ask for, wish for, it would be yours so ya know how much I care about ya.”

“What if—“ you thought for a moment before speaking your thoughts out loud. “If I would ask for the world, or for the stars? You can’t give them to me.” You chuckled softly, your heart beat faster when you heard his words. But at the same time you knew that he couldn’t give you everything. As much as a person loves someone, no one can give one the world, or the stars right?

“Trust me, babydoll, if you asked me for the world, I would get it for you. You want the stars? Oh, babydoll, you would get even those. A man has to carry his princess in his hands or else he isn’t worth her attention and love,” James said, he let his hand travel from your cheek to your chin. He tilted your head up with his hand underneath your chin, getting all of your attention. “How about that… ya put your stuff into ya bag. And then I invite ya to get ice cream with me.”

James pulled your stuff closer and waited patiently for you to put it into your bag. He leaned back in his seat, his ocean blue eyes roaming over your body, mostly over your face. You put your things into your bag, his offer is too good to say no. With one smooth movement you closed the zipper of your bag.

You got off, and swung the bag to carry it over your shoulder but James grasped it with one hand and took it out of your hand. With a smirk he got up as well and walked towards the door of the classroom, waiting for you to follow him.

“Whatcha looking like that? Ya comin’ or want to stay there all day?” He grinned at you. With his free hand, he tucked a strand of his long, brown hair behind his ear. “Told ya, a man has to carry his girl in his hands, now get ya pretty ass over here or I’m gonna eat all the ice cream by myself.”

Your mouth dropped open at his words, clearly to his amusement. You walked toward him, closing your mouth slowly before you reached for your bag but James turned to the side and trapped it between him and the door. He smirked at you, holding his hand into the direction he wanted you to walk. James' slightly raised eyebrow gave you no room to argue with him.

“You don’t know if my ass is pretty, maybe you don’t like it,” you said with a shrug. James waited a moment before he followed you, his eyes roaming down your back to your swinging hips and your ass. He had to hold back a moan as a response to your beauty and the way your hips swayed from one side to the other.

He then walked through the hallway, following you until he walked next to you. “Ya have the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen. But I couldn't have imagined it otherwise, ya’re the prettiest girl.”

It wasn’t like he had checked out a lot of girls, almost none since he had a crush on someone. James couldn’t look at another girl the same anymore after he fell in love, it felt like he had cheated and he didn’t like the feeling, even though the girl didn’t even know he was in love with her.

“Do you have a girlfriend, James? I mean, you're a football captain, handsome, nice. You should go to her instead of getting ice cream with your rival's ex-girlfriend,” you asked, curious about the captain's answer. You didn’t know much about him, he wasn’t a playboy — that was for sure. You had only seen him fielding once with a girl, maybe it was just talking to her.

“No girlfriend. Have a crush on someone but she doesn’t know about it,” he said with a shrug and opened the front door to let you walk outside first. You thanked him, feeling butterflies in your stomach about such a small but meaningful gesture. “Ya can call me Bucky. Most of my friends call me Bucky.”

“Okay, then, Bucky, who don’t you tell her?” A groan left his plump lips and you giggled softly. That was the topic every guy tried to avoid when he talked to girls. But since it was just you and him, he would maybe tell you more about her. “You look good but don’t talk to girls, that’s definitely a good thing when it comes to girls.”

Bucky nodded. He knew what girls liked and what they didn’t like — mostly because of his friends in the team who had girlfriends. He was not just once in the middle of an argument where he had to assure the girl that the team went out without other girls.

“I know, but ya know. Don’t think she even noticed me.” Bucky said, leading you to his car. His big hand had found its way to the small of your back after you had left the building with him. His hand was warm and comforting.

“How can someone not notice you? You’re the captain of the football team.” You were almost shocked about his statement. Everyone who wasn’t completely new in school knew about the captains of the teams — mostly even knew about the other members of the team. They were all pretty handsome and the typical guy girls read in books when they tried to make their perfect boyfriend in their minds.

“Because not everyone likes football? Some people ignore us too,” Bucky said. He opened his car, letting you sit before he shut the door and walked around the car, getting into it as well. He had a dark blue Jeep, it was clean and you were surprised that it was really that clean.

Bucky was a college boy, a football college boy. So you thought he would have a messy car, but instead it was even cleaner than yours would probably be.

“You really love that car?” You earned a nod, followed by a chuckle. Bucky's cheeks heated up and he wanted to hit his head against the steering wheel, he made a fool out of himself with you being so close to him.

“Yeah, don’t like it messy. Ya, don’t look at me like that, I know whatcha wanted to say!” Bucky laughed, starting the car to drive the two of you to his favorite ice shop. “You will love the ice there, they have more flavors than you can imagine.”

The two of you stayed silent for a moment, both stuck in your minds and thoughts. Your eyes were focused on Bucky while he was focused on the street. Even though he didn’t turn his head, he watched you out of the corner of his eye, smirking to himself when he noticed that you stared at him once again.

After a few minutes you cleared your throat, getting him to turn his face for a moment toward you. Bucky offered you a soft smile before his eyes darted back to the street, but he was still letting you know that he listens to you with a hum.

“Why are you doing this for me? I mean, you don’t know me and I’m just the pathetic ex-girlfriend of your rival,” you asked, smacking yourself mentally for even asking that. But you didn’t want him to do that for you because he felt pity.

“I will tell ya at the end of the summer break,” he said, his eyes finding yours once again. He could see the way you were looking at him, that there was more behind the question than just curiosity. “You’re not a burden and I don’t do it because I feel pity for you, so get those thoughts out of your pretty mind immediately, babydoll.”

You chuckled, eyes still remaining on Bucky while he drove the two of you to the ice cream shop he loved so much. Little did you know, it was also your favorite one, only when you arrived did your eyes widen and you stared at Bucky with an excited glisten in your eyes. He grinned at you, getting out of the car to almost run around so he could open the door for you, while you stared at the shop with a huge grin on your face.

“My lady,” Bucky smirked and offered you his hand to take. He helped you get out of the car, his lips curled even further up when he noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off the ice cream shop. “Like that?”

“I—” you trailed off, letting your eyes wander to meet Bucky's ocean blue ones. You smirked at him, raising an eyebrow before clearing your throat to hide the excitement. Even though you were pretty sure Bucky knew how excited you were already. “I don't just like it… I LOVE IT. That's my favorite ice cream shop!”

You had always wanted to go here with John, but he would just shake his head and tell you that the one closer to your apartment was just as good or that this one was too expensive for just ice cream. He wasn't wrong, it wasn’t as cheap as other smaller ones. But the others didn’t have that amount of different ice creams and they didn’t taste as good as they did in your favorite ice cream shop.

Bucky nodded, taking your hand into his and interlacing your fingers. His grip was firm but so comforting that you didn’t even think about removing your hand from his. The two of you walked then slowly to the entrance of the little building. It wasn’t as full as you thought it would be, even a few tables were free and you already looked around to find the best place before you had even decided which ice cream you wanted.

“You already know what you want?” Bucky asked and got your attention back. He had already pulled you toward the counter, greeting the woman behind it. The brown haired man didn’t offer her the smile he showed you, she only got a small grin which didn't even reach his sparkling eyes. The moment his eyes landed on you, his eyes were even softer and his smile bigger, lighting up the blue in his eyes. “You can have as many as you want.”

“I know I'm gonna pay for my ice cream myself.” You mumbled and looked at all the different ones to decide which ones you wanted. Bucky grunted, he would definitely pay for the ice cream, he wouldn't have asked you if he let you pay for it yourself. He nodded slowly, glaring at the woman behind the counter, letting her know that he would pay. You looked up at her, smiling softly. “I—”

You stuttered when you tried to decide if you really wanted those flavors or different but then you let her finally know which you wanted. Your eyes wandered to Bucky, who had a mischievous grin on his face and you rolled your eyes, letting your head fall against his shoulder and looked up at him.

“You won't let me pay for my ice cream, right?” He shook his head, looking down at you with the most intense but softest expression you had ever seen on someone's face. You were not sure what there was between you and him but it gave you the comfort you were always looking for — you didnt really know him but it felt like you had known him forever already.

“I asked you out, so I'm gonna pay. No discussion, just get your ice cream and get us a table,” Bucky said and leaned his head against yours for a moment until the woman behind the counter gave you your ice cream and you did as you were told after mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ into Bucky's shoulder.

— —

The first few days of summer break you spent in your apartment, wrapped into a blanket and watching a lot of movies while eating even more ice cream. But instead of crying your eyes out, you had company from your — now — best friend. After your ice cream date with Bucky the two of you walked through the park until the sun went down and even then you two had so much more to talk about — so you offered to meet him the next day. And that's exactly what the two of you did, since then you met every day.

Bucky always brought you small presents and gave you a lot of compliments. You could stand in front of him in a dress or in your pajamas with messy hair — he always told you how beautiful and stunning you were. You first didn't believe him, thinking it was just a joke but whenever you looked into his ocean blue eyes, there was nothing but the truth and love visible.

Today he asked you to go out with him again. He had a surprise and who were you to say no to such a sweet and gentle man? Bucky didn’t just help you to forget about John, but he also showed you what love and affection really meant. He wasn’t afraid to show you off to the world, even though you were not his girl, yet.

“Babydoll, are ya ready?” he asked, peeking through the door of your bedroom with a smirk. Bucky knew that you were at least dressed, otherwise he wouldn't look without permission. When his eyes met yours you blushed softly but shook your head.

Bucky's eyes widened, he then narrowed them and took a step into your bedroom. You looked so perfect in your outfit — just like always, so why weren’t you ready? He noticed the slight struggle in your eyes when he let his roam over your body. Without a word he understood what was stopping you from being ready for your date with him.

Bucky walked closer, his arms reaching out and pulling you toward him. He snook his arms around your waist, pressing his broad chest against your back before he turned the two of you around so you were looking at the two of you in the mirror. “You're beautiful, look at ya. Ya’re the most beautiful and I'm honored that you allow me to take ya out. Don't ya think you look pretty?”

You swallowed thickly. Bucky looked stunning, always so perfectly fine and every girl was staring at him. He could have anyone and the feelings you developed slowly for him didn’t 

 help your running thoughts — they only made it worse. Especially because John had never asked you out like that, he never wanted to show you off to anyone. But Bucky acted like you were the only girl in the world — little did you know, in his world you were the only one.

“Y-You're so pretty…” You mumbled, causing Bucky to chuckle into your neck. He had his head placed on your shoulder, staring at you in his arms through the mirror with a smile. He wouldn’t leave the room, not until he’s sure it was what you wanted too — otherwise he would just carry you into the living room and cuddle with you all night. “You're so perfect, stunning. Every girl is always staring at you, and you could have them all… And I am just me.”

“Ya don't understand, do ya? I don't care who is looking at me, they can look all they want,” Bucky said into your neck, trying to hold himself back so he wouldn’t confess everything. “Do ya remember the day where we went the first time to the ice cream shop? Ya said it ya’self, that I'm not a playboy. Let them look, they aren't out with me, are they? Plus the thing I’ve planned for the two of us is just ya and me.”

He wanted to say so much more, but he just couldn’t. At least not right now, it wasn’t that he didn’t mean it or is scared, but he wanted to prove it all to you, before he made the next step. Bucky wanted you to see that he meant everything he said and then — then he would do the next step with you.

You nodded softly, letting Bucky lead you out of the bedroom. His arms were still around your waist, his chest pressed against your back while the two of you walked through the floor toward your living room to pick up your phone and his bag.

“Do you trust me, babydoll?” With a soft smirk you turned your head to face Bucky, nodding slightly once again. “Then trust me that you're stunning and you are you but that's the point, that's what makes you special. You make yourself special.”

Bucky’s expression was soft but serious. You didn’t have words, knowing that he meant every single word he said without doubt.

“T-thank you,” you mumbled, sending a shiver through Bucky’s body. He adored the way you reacted whenever he made a compliment, so shy and just cute.

He led you to his car, still being such a gentleman and when you first thought it was just to impress you, you were now pretty sure that Bucky was always like that around someone he likes. He didn’t promise you too much when he said that a man had to carry his girl in his hands — you may not have been his girl but he did it anyway.

As much as you tried to find out where the two of you were going, he didn't tell you. Bucky was good at changing topics when it came to a surprise and you didn't get the tiniest of information out of him.

Bucky kept his soft smile the whole time while he drove the car through the streets of the town, you were pretty sure you sometimes drove in circles so he could confuse you because everything looked alike. When he stopped the car in a quiet, almost empty parking space.

“So, ya can either close ya eyes and promise me to keep them close, or I’m gonna use that pretty scarf to cover ya eyes until we’re there.” He held a soft, fluffy scarf in front of him and you trusted him enough that he wouldn’t let you run against something. You knew you would try to sneak, so you had to decide that Bucky should use the scarf to cover your eyes.

“I- maybe… I won’t sneak?” You giggled, it didn't sound serious enough for Bucky so he just wrapped the soft fabric around your head and tied it together. You felt his warm breath against your cheek, your breath hitched and you dug your fingers into your thighs, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

“So, how many fingers do you see?” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to hold his hands in front of your face. Instead of fingers he made a heart with his hands, smirking at you.

Your chuckle brought him back to reality, his eyes shot from your lips back to your covered eyes and he waited for an answer. “Mhm…. Three?” You giggled, not seeing anything because of the scarf in front of your eyes.

“Guess again,” he smirked, letting his hand fall down before he got out of the car. Bucky walked around, opening the door for you to help you out as well. He took care that you didn’t hit your head somewhere. “We are walking a bit but it’s not far, and I promise I won’t let you run into something.”

With that he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you tight against his chest to make sure he had control where to go and that you wouldn’t fall or hurt yourself somewhere.

You had never trusted someone before that much that you would have let them cover your eyes and lead you somewhere. But with Bucky it felt different, you knew that — you felt it — that he would never do anything where you could be in danger or hurt yourself. You trusted him with everything, and you used every opportunity to show him just that.

Bucky led you a bit, holding you firmly pressed against him. His fingers played with the fabric of your dress, tickling you softly. “Don’t squirm, babydoll.”

“Then don’t tickle me,” you giggled, trying to get away from his tickles. Bucky laughed, pulling you even closer but stopped tickling you.

“Can’t keep my hands to myself when it causes such sweet noises from you,” he mumbled into your neck. The two of you walked a bit further and when you inhaled deeply you smelt some flowers but also water. You didn’t know where you were, but it had to be pretty because Bucky told you that he had never brought people there with him before.

When Bucky stopped he took a step backwards, one of his hands remaining on you, while he untied the scarf around your head. The soft fabric fell down your face and you caught one side of it with your hands, the other was stuck in Bucky’s big hand.

You needed a moment to get used to the sun but when you opened your eyes and looked around your mouth drops open. Bucky had brought a blanket and food there. In front of you was also a small lake surrounded by trees and some floors in front of it. It was the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

“B-Bucky…” you said quietly, turning your head to face Bucky. He grinned at you, his eyes shining beautiful in the light of the sun combined with the way he smiled at you. He was proud of himself for making you happy and impressed with such a small gesture. “This is… it’s amazing. I love it, it’s so beautiful.”

He let go of you to take a step away, taking out his phone. He opeed the camera and turned around, pulling you in front of him, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as he snapped a photo of the two of you. Only when he showed you the photo did you notice why he took a step to the side — it now showed everything, the trees, the flowers, the lake, the blanket with the food and the two of you with a huge smile across your faces.

“Ya know, it’s my new background now,” Bucky explained as he made it his new background. Now you were smiling at him every time he turned his phone on. And everyone knew you were his.

You smiled, already decided that you were going to use that or a picture you would take of him or him and you as background as well. It was such a sweet idea and you would love to look at him whenever you looked at your phone.

“Now sit down. I made the cake myself!” Bucky said with a proud smirk on his face as he pointed at the cake. It was your favorite one, you told him about it and you already noticed that it just looked like the description you gave him.

“You’re the best.” With a giggle you sat down, Bucky did the same, taking a seat next to you and offering you some food and drinks.

The cake was perfect, just like you described it and you wouldn’t have know better, you would have guessed he bought it from a baker. You suggested that Bucky could become a baker, he would be rich in no time. But he just chuckled and shook his head.

His eyes roamed over your face before he looked into your eyes once again. He was the first person you didn’t mind staring into one another’s eyes for hours. “I’m only baking for my best girl.”

Your cheeks heated up and you had to look away. You were still not used to all his compliments and sweet words. And Bucky used every opportunity to make you blush, loving the way you smiled shyly at him before you had to look away for a moment. But then, you couldn’t even look away for long, and he adored the effect he had on you, he could spend all day just watching you giggle and blushing. Bucky wouldn’t mind listening to you all day either, as long as it was you who was around.

The two of you sat there, talking about everything and nothing. You had never laughed that much with someone like you did with Bucky. He knew all your weaknesses and strengths, the two of you hadn’t even talked for over two weeks but he was your best friend already. The only one you knew you could be completely honest and open around, he could read you like a book anyway.

When the sun went down, you were sitting between Bucky's legs, your back pressed against his chest. He drew small circles on your stomach while you watched the sunset. It was the most beautiful yellow followed by red until it was only the clouds that were still painted in a slight pink before it became dark around you.

You shivered lightly in Bucky arms, pressing yourself further against him. With a smirk he removed his hands from you, grasping his bag. “I have a present for ya,” he told you before he placed his bag in front of you. “Open it.”

Your slightly shaking hands opened the zipper of his backpack and your eyes narrowed when you saw just some fabric inside until you noticed what it was. Your eyes widened when you tilted your head slightly and took it out of the bag. In your hands you held a hoodie, and it wasn’t just one. It was Bucky’s football hoodie, where his number and his name were big on the back. You pulled it closer, burying your face in his hoodie and inhaling his scent. Bucky chuckled, he looked at you like a puppy in love — and he was exactly that. “Y-You give me your hoodie?”

Bucky leaned his head on your shoulder, nodding. “If ya want to. Ya can also have another one or just for yet so ya won't freeze. But actually I thought I would love the sight of my name on ya back.”

Sometime at the start of the summer break, the two of you made that unwritten plan to spend all the time together. You never asked him if you could spend some more time, neither did he. He just took you out, making sure you wanted to but slowly he had the feeling you could have moved into his apartment with him. He knew he hugged you all the time, made sure you’re happy and the urge to tell you about his true feelings got bigger with every day.

But as much as he wanted to tell you — he didn’t want to do it just yet. He wanted to give you the whole summer break to see that he didn’t have the intention to get into bed with you. Bucky wanted you to see that you were worth so much more than what John was willing to give you. Bucky wanted to show you what real love meant, he wanted you to crave him just as much as he craved you.

This night Bucky spent at your apartment, he made pudding for the two of you. The two of you were wrapped in a blanket together and he held you as close as possible. You had the best sleep in years, knowing that Bucky would be still there in the morning when you woke up. And you were right, he had you pulled onto him, your head resting on his chest and you listened to his steady heartbeat. His heartbeat and his scent had such a calming effect on you, and you used every opportunity to be as close to him as possible. His arms, his embrace felt like home.

His morning voice was the hottest you could imagine, it was slightly rougher than his usual and it sent shivers down your spine every time. Bucky almost moved into your apartment with time, he brought most of his stuff like clothes so he could spend all day and all night with you. And even though he allowed you to take his clothes if you wanted, he didn't realise he would have to wash them so often because you stopped wearing yours. So you both wore Bucky clothes — you offered him to wear yours and he once tried a dress of yours.

You took a picture of him, making it your new background. Or it was more a picture of the thick, muscular football captain in a red dress of yours, while you wore the hoodie with his name and number on his back. The two of you stood in front of the table, your chest pressed against Buckys, while he held the phone and took the picture.

As much as you loved to go out with Bucky, you also loved the times when it was just the two of you. Bucky was a perfect cook and baker. So he either cooked for the two of you or you did it together, same went for baking.

The two of you ended up as snowmen one time, it started with you accidentally blowing the flour at Bucky. He then took way too much flour and let it fall down over your head with a huge grin across his face. Little did he know that you would grab the whole bowl and throw it at him. His reaction was to run away and into the wall by accident so he was trapped between the wall and the fridge.

It was a lot to clean, especially because Bucky hugged you and was smearing all the flour he had on his clothes on yours. You were sure you could have baked a whole cake with the amount of flour the two of you used for our little snowman action.

But the most special moment for you was two weeks before school started again. Your best friend has asked you out so often, you made trips together and spent every minute together. But when he asked you to come to Steve's birthday your mouth dropped open and you didn’t know how to respond. Of course, you would have loved to but John never wanted to have you around his friends — around his team. And Steve was one of Bucky's football team members, so there would be a lot of other people too. With a lot of assurance from Bucky you agreed and there you were now.

Bucky stood with his big hand on the small of your back next to you, looking down. The two of you were in front of Steve's house and you knew that you could still say no and Bucky would have immediately drove you back home. “I-I… Are you sure you want to be seen with me, Bucky?”

His eyes widened and he narrowed them. His hand wandered up to your shoulders to turn you toward him. His other hand settled itself on your chin and made you look directly into his intense blue eyes. “I'm more than sure that I want everyone to see us together. Babydoll, I’m not ashamed of ya, but if ya don't feel comfortable we can go home and watch movies.”

Home. You could go home. Yours, Buckys. It was more than just your apartment now, it was everything because even Bucky called it home.

“N-No, I think I can do that,” you mumbled nodding with a soft smile. You inhaled deeply, feeling Bucky's big hand take yours and interlacing your fingers with his. He then leaned down and kissed your cheek softly. You felt a shiver run down your spine, you were so in love with him but too shy to tell him — it would maybe ruin your friendship so you just enjoyed him being so close to you.

“If ya want to go home, ya gonna tell me,” Bucky said, his voice soft but leaving no room for discussion. So you nodded once again. Bucky smirked at you, knocking at the door which swung open almost immediately. The man grinning at the two of you was just as big as Bucky, his hair was way shorter and blond. His eyes were as blue as Buckys and you looked him up and down for a moment.

“Thought you won’t like to come in,” Steve said with a chuckle, letting both of you walk into his house. His eyes roamed over his friend, then over you until he noticed your interlaced fingers. Bucky squeezed your hand even more, pulling slightly  you closer to him with a raised eyebrow at Steve.

They both have a moment of silent communication. Steve knew what was going on, he knew who you were. Not because you were John's ex-girlfriend. He knew you because of Bucky, who just couldn’t stop looking at you. The two men had a lot of talks, where Bucky just needed to tell him about you, that he had to have you and that he was so fucking in love with you.

“Happy Birthday,” you said after a moment, getting both men's attention. Steve smiled at you nodding.

“Thank you. Now get inside, the others can't wait to get to know ya girl, Buck,” Steve said and walked in front of the two of you. He knew that Bucky was going to mention that you were not his girl — at least not yet — but you were his best friend. To Steve's surprise the statement never came, and Bucky just grinned down at you, his eyes shining when he led you through the hallway to the living room where the others were.

“Ya don’t mind him calling ya my girl, do ya?” Bucky asked, knowing that you didnt mind it. None of the two of you had ever said those three words yet, but he knew you felt the same for him. Bucky had seen you shivering and giggling enough whenever someone mentioned that you and Bucky were a couple. But he also noticed the soft, sad flash across your face when someone did, knowing that you were scared to fully give in to your feelings without having any voices in your mind that told you you were not worth it.

You just didn’t understand that you were everything for Bucky. You always were, you always would be. But you were sometimes stuck in your mind, thinking about all the girls who looked better than you — all the ones he could have. And then you didn’t notice that he didn’t m care about a single one of them, for Bucky it was just you. You were his one and you Would always  be his one — he would spend his lifetime to make sure you understood that there could be everyone but he only wanted you.

“I don't mind that,” you giggled, following Steve further into the living room. ‘I actually love it when people notice that I belong to you’.

Every pair of eyes was on you and Bucky when you walked into the room. Some of them were curious, some of them had an expression on their faces like ‘knew it, pal’. Through the whole evening and night Bucky introduced you to everyone with a proud smile. His hands were always somewhere on you, either around your waist or holding your hand.

His teammates were really nice, they were interested in you. And you had a lot of fun with them all, no one was mean and even the girls — mostly girlfriends of the other boys — were nice. They never looked at you with judgeful expression but they talked and laughed with you. No jealousy, no hate — just fun and a bunch of new friends.

You never would have thought it would feel amazing to be shown off by a man who owned your heart. But with Bucky it felt just perfect.

After the party you spent a few more nights with Bucky and the others, they became your friends and everyone knew that the two of you really needed to confess your love for one another. Most of the time Bucky was either hugging you from behind or you were sitting on his lap. There was no just you or just Bucky — it was always you and Bucky.

The weekend before college started again Bucky had to go to his apartment again. He called you every night, sleeping with you on the phone or he just watched you half of the night because he still couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Heeas addicted to you, you were like his air — he needed you to live.

So while he had some talks with the team and the coach and also organized all of his school stuff, you did the same. Most of the time you wrote him messages and waited for his response. Until the sunday before school, where you felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest.

John: Hey, I'm sorry I broke up with you. It was a shit decision and I couldn’t stop thinking about you all summer break. I love you.

John: I know you love me too. You know there is no one who loves you, they all just play with you. You're pretty but they only want to fuck you, come back to me and let me make it better this time.

Sobs and tears wrecked your body, you couldn’t  believe him. He hadn’t  tried to talk to you the whole summer break and suddenly he wanted you back. And maybe he was right, no one else showed any interest in you, only John. But now you had Bucky, who spent all summer break with you, he showed you what it meant to be loved even though he was ‘just’ your best friend. Bucky could have asked to have sex with you the whole time but he never did, he just wanted to cuddle, to see you happy, so maybe John was wrong and there was someone who loved you without just wanting to have sex.

Bucky wrote you a few — a lot of messages — and tried to call you but you didn’t answer him. Maybe he wanted to tell you that he had enough of you, that he was going to be happier with someone else. You didn’t want him to hear your broken voice and you didn’t want him to see your tears because of John's messages.

You didn’t love him anymore, but the voices in your mind — the ones John could control so perfectly — screamed at you, that he was right. So you just wrapped yourself into a blanket and watched all the movies Bucky loved, making your heart ache even more, especially when his scent came into your nose whenever you moved because of the hoodie you were wearing – his hoodie.

Bucky told you that he would be busy all day with the coach and the team but it didn't stop him from sending one after another message, calling you every hour until he started to speak messages on your voicemail.

Bucky: Hi, babydoll. How are you? Just checking after you before the next meeting starts, would prefer to be cuddled up with you.

Bucky: Are you okay? Do you need anything?

Bucky: I asked the coach to make it short so I can come over but he has a lot more shit for us to do, I'm sorry.

Bucky: Fuck, are you alright?

Bucky: Please, answer me. I come over!

You read the messages but never opened the chat. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you stared at your background and the incoming messages. 10 missed calls: Bucky. You just couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, to tell him what was going on and you knew you couldn't find an excuse to tell Bucky.

Around half an hour later Bucky knocked at your door, calling out your name. He called out your name. Bucky always used your pet name, the one he gave you but right now he called you by your name. His voice was broken, Bucky sounded worried but you didn’t want to move, your body felt way too heavy.

After a moment you heard the familiar sound of the key in your door. You gave Bucky your keys a while ago so he could come home whenever he wanted. He stormed into your apartment, shrugging off his shoes and jacket before he literally ran to you into the living room. His heart broke at the sight of you laying there, crying and wrapped into his hoodie and a blanket.

“Babydoll!” He said, crouching down next to you. Bucky eyes roamed over your body, trying to find something that could have hurt you but when he didn’t notice anything he narrowed his eyes. He brought one of his big hands to your cheeks, wiping away the tears and a few strands out of your face. “Look at me please, what's going on?”

You hadn’t even noticed that you closed your eyes until he asked you to look at him. You inhaled deeply, your body shaking as you slowly opened your eyes. His blue eyes pierced into yours immediately, he looked worried. You had never seen him like that, almost broken. More tears fell down your cheeks as you looked at him, noticing the love and care that's mirroring in the eyes you fell in love with.

You shook your head slightly, you didn’t want him to hear your broken voice. Bucky got up, wrapping his arms around you to lift you and sit down with you on his lap. Your head fell down against his shoulder and you inhaled his scent, feeling the warmth of him against you. Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you as close as possible.

“You came…” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“You didn't answer,” he replied, leaning his head against yours. You felt a bit of wetness against the side of your forehead, noticing that Bucky was finally relaxing since he had you safe in his arms. You never thought he would cry because he was worried about you, but he did — maybe even relieved that you're fine.

“But the meetings. He could throw you out of the team,” you said, leaning back slightly. You looked into Bucky's face, seeing the soft smile on his face but also his red eyes. Slight trails of tears slid down his cheeks and you captured his face to wipe them away. Bucky tilted his head slightly, leaning more into your soft touch.

“It doesn't matter. Nothing matters when it comes to you, babydoll.” You inhaled deeply, leaning your forehead against his. “But I told him that my girl needs me and that I will win every fucking game this season when you're at the side in my jersey. You will watch the games, right?”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Bucky just came because he was worried, he didn't mind that he could be thrown out of the team — he came because he was worried. And you planned to go to his games anyway, but now it made your heart beat even faster. His girl. His jersey.

“Are you going to tell me what happened? You won't just ignore my messages and calls,” Bucky asked, his voice soft. His breath was warm against your lips and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“John wrote me…” you mumbled, feeling Bucky tensing. Without him asking you knew what he wanted to ask ‘What did he say? Did he hurt you?’ “He said… he said that he wants me back and that no other guy wants me anyway. Unless it's about sex, so you know…”

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the couch. He brought some distance between the two of you to look into your eyes. “Do you want to go back to him? Whatever your answer is, I…” Bucky trailed off, closing his eyes to take a shaky breath before he looked at you again. Something in his eyes switched and you squirmed slightly. “Whatever your answer is, I want you to know that you're really loved by me. And I want you for more than just sex. If you want to go back to John I will accept that, but I just— I want you to know that I love you, forever already and it will never change.”

Bucky's confession caused your jaw to drop open. You thought about a lot that he could say but hearing him confess his feelings for you wasn't one of them. It was the most obvious but you felt so insecure, so scared that it wasn't what you thought.

“I— You love me but you would let me go back to John?” You asked, you had so many thoughts but that was the first that came past your lips. Bucky nodded, a sad smile flashing over his face.

“I don't say I would like it. But I don’t want to be the barrier that stops you from being happy. When you love someone, you're willing to break yourself to see them happy,” Bucky said, another tear rolling down his face. He was scared to say those words, he was scared you would go back to John but he knew he had to accept whatever you thought was best for you. “I'm willing to give everything for you because I love you.”

You smiled softly, the urge to punch him grew about his words. You were never more happy than the weeks of summer break with Bucky. So how could he even think about breaking himself for you? “You're an idiot.”

“At least I'm your idiot,” he smiled softly, shurgging. You stared into his eyes, nodding while he brought your hand to his chest, pressing it down just above his heart. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart against your hand and you sighed softly.

“I can’t give ya the whole world… not the one ya think at least. But I can give ya my world — our world. I can make everything shine for ya like I took every star and gave it to ya,” he mumbled, reminding you of what he said before summer break. “But I can tell ya, I'm so in love with ya. My heart, it's beating for you — only for ya. You're my world, everything for me.

You leaned closer to him, until there is barely an inch between the two of you. You smiled softly, his words and gesture making your heart beat faster and a warmth spreading inside of you. “When you're willing to break yourself for me because you think I would ever be happier with someone who isn’t you, then I have bad news. There is no one who makes me happier than you. And I'm willing to fix everything that broke when the thought that someone could be better than you crossed your mind.”

“Can I kiss you now, or do you want to tell me you love me in another way than you just did?” He asked, chuckling softly. You didn’t say those three words but you didn’t  have to. You told him that you loved him with so many more words but in the most perfect way he could have ever imagined.

You leaned even closer, allowing him to finally press his soft, plump lips against yours. You could taste both of your tears while he deepened the kiss softly. Bucky pulled you even closer, your hands wrapped around his neck and you played with his bun, making him growl playfully into the kiss.

After a moment you pulled away, panting softly. Both of you had heated cheeks and you leaned your forehead against Bucky's shoulder to hide your growing smirk. “I know that ya smiling,” Bucky said, his accent back and you melted into his embrace, giggling softly. Neither of you had to say anything about the kiss — it was indescribably perfect. “How long have you been in love with me already?” you asked, turning your head, still resting it against his shoulder. Bucky drew small circles on your back, a low chuckle escaped his lips.

“Forever…” he said. “I'm not sure, but it's like forever. And then before summer break, my heart broke when I saw you there so sad. I could have told you I love you, fucked you and could have helped you to get over John but I wanted to show you what love means before i confess my feelings. I could have told you at the beginning of summer break but I wanted you to know how it feels to be loved and cared for, how to treat the girl you love right. I wanted you to be just as much in love with me as I am with you.”

“Then congratulations, you made me fall in love harder than I thought I could ever fall in love. And I don't love John anymore, long ago I did but I don't, I just…” you trailed off, letting your fingers wander over Bucky's neck, admiring the goosebumps. “His words, they just hurt.”

Bucky grinned, having already a perfect idea for the next day. “Babydoll, i don't want you to feel that i just use you to make you jealous, because I really fucking love you, but…”

“I love you too, but what?” You giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around Bucky's neck. You kissed your way along his jaw, pulling him in another kiss before you listened to his plan.

— —

The next day — the first day of school you were walking next to Bucky from his car toward the building. He held your hand tightly and you felt a lot of people staring at you, maybe it was because of the man next to you, but maybe it could have also been because of…

“Y/N!” John shouted behind you and when you turned around his face was pale. He thought you were wearing the hoodie with Bucky's number and name on your back to make him jealous but when he saw the thick man next to you, holding your hand, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing his name, why are you holding his hand?”

You didn't plan to have that conversation in front of everyone but you didn't mind it either. Bucky gave you a strength you never thought you had. With a soft smile and a look at Bucky you inhaled deeply before looking at John, smile fading away.

“I wear his name on my back because it belongs there. I hold his hand because he’s my boyfriend. And instead of being ashamed and hiding our relationship like you did, he likes to let everyone know that I belong to him. Bucky doesn't mind, that everyone sees us together.”

“I actually do love to let everyone know that this pretty girl is mine. She is mine and she will be forever. And ya, Walker, can fuck off. Ya didn't know how to treat her right but don't worry, I love her enough to make ya shit up to her,” Bucky growled before he grasped your chin.

It wasn’t part of the plan, you knew what he was going to do but you didn't care about the plan to just wear Bucky's hoodie to show John that you were with Bucky now. Bucky turned your head toward him, pressing his lips to yours and you sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him even closer.

The people around you clapped and screamed about this news. Who watched Bucky knew that he had the biggest crush on you. Even Bucky's whole football team jumped and shouted like they just won a game. You heard John muttering ‘but he is my rival, and so are you now’ but you couldn't have cared less.

Bucky smirked against your lips. “Mine, all mine, babydoll. You belong to me, just like I belong to you, I know.” He chuckled and pulled you into another kiss, letting you know that everything he said was true. He loved you with his whole heart, his soul.

You could feel his heart against your chest, feeling it beating the same rhythm yours was beating. His words from the day before where he confessed his love echoed through your mind. And suddenly everything made sense, everything lit up — no fear, no doubt. Bucky loved you — he really loved you. This was different, it was more than you ever had with John, more than you ever felt for the other one. Buckys and your heart beated in the same rhythm, they were connected — you were connected. He had used his whole summer break to prove that he loved you, to let you see how much worth you had, how much you meant to him. And finally, he was able to let his girl know, to show you his real feelings. This man — your man, your Bucky — he belonged to you, just like you belonged to him. You would take care of one another, love one another like nobody else ever did. He showed you the whole summer break that you were his one and now the two of you had the rest of your lives to be just happy with one another. Your journey, your life together had just started — in the most perfect way ever.

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