#they are not connected but I just had them on hand- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashytracktales · 3 days ago

Note

Heyy girliee, first of all I want to say that your writing is absolutely amazing. I’ve been reading your Lando fics for the past couple of days and “endings, beginnings” had me feeling butterflies in my stomach 🫢 I wanted to ask you if you could write something about lando and reader being friends but constantly having sexual tension building up between them. Maybe they flirt with each other but never think of it as something so serious and one night after a party they completely destroy each other. I fully trust you with this and how you’ll develop the story haha and don’t hold back. Thank youuu :*

Think twice | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for the love on Endings, beginnings & I appreciate you for taking the time to share this. Hope you like it 🤍🎀

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𐙚 summary ──── What starts as a chill party, where they sit in their old habits, ends with new boundaries crossed and a heavy tension they can no longer ignore.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, friends to lovers, bit of jealous!Lando, smut, slight teasing, praising, fingering & oral (sit on it), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.8k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 21, 2025

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THE TWO OF them are always standing next to each other, no matter the room they’re in. The context, just like the reason why this happens, is redundant. Plus, they don’t even do it on purpose; rather, they are unconsciously drawn to each other like two magnets.

The party has finally slowed to a lazy hum, the music just a tolerable background noise now. People linger in clusters around them, their voices a distant murmur blending with the faint bassline of a forgotten playlist. The living room is dim, lit mostly by the glow of a string of fairy lights drooping across the ceiling.

It was supposed to be a small gathering, but then a friend told a friend, and that friend told their friends. And now, it’s almost impossible to find a private spot to catch your breath without breathing someone else’s air.

Somehow, they did. They are tucked into the corner of a couch, their space a small bubble of comfort. Her legs are draped over his lap, bare skin warm against the fabric of his black jeans. He’s cradling her calf in one hand, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her skin.

Her fingers thread through his curls at the back of his head, twirling them lazily. It’s a casual gesture, but it sends a shiver through him every time she does it.

Their conversation shifted into easy gossiping about a mutual friend — someone they both think is trying a bit too hard with their Instagram posts.

“It’s fucking obvious he’s fishing for attention,” says Lando, sounding almost conspiratorial.

“I know, right? The cryptic ass captions, the mirror selfies. He thinks he’s smooth with it, too,” she replies, giggling at the thought.

Lando grins, his thumb still tracing circles on her leg. The banter feels safe, the kind of effortless connection they’ve always had. But underneath it, there’s a quiet tension that neither of them is ready to address. Because they are, maybe, a bit tipsy, or because none of them has ever had the courage to take it further, for some reason.

“Alright, I need to pee,” she announces suddenly, getting ready to stand.

But Lando tightens his grip on her legs, his lips twitching in a smirk. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “If I don’t go, I might pee on you.”

Lando shrugs, “Go ahead. Then I might discover a new kink,” he encourages her.

“New?” she laughs. “That implies you already have at least one.”

Lando winks at her without saying a word, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smile.

She rolls her eyes, smiling back at his immature behavior. “My God. You’re actually the worst. Move.”

He doesn’t. Instead, Lando, just stares at her with an expression that’s visibly different. His usual playful gaze has shifted to something more intense, and she tells herself he’s just a little... intoxicated. Still, it makes her heart skip a beat, because he looks so adorable when his eyes focus on something so intently. And so hot, that it makes her almost forget why she wanted to get up in the first place.

“Lan, I’m not joking, I actually have to go,” she whispers, her voice softer now.

He exhales, loosening his grip but not before giving her leg a small, reluctant squeeze.

“Don’t get lost,” he says, the words carrying more weight than they should.

She shakes her head, slipping off the couch and disappearing into the hallway. Lando watches her go, his eyes trailing after her like he’s afraid she might actually not come back.

Which is ridiculous, because he should not care. There are lots of other girls that he can take home tonight if he wants to.

Want, being the keyword.

Leaning back against the couch, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s always known she was the embodiment of the perfect girl for him — funny, kind, and loyal. But tonight, there’s something else in the air that makes his mind wander. The way she carries herself, her laugh, the way she makes everything around her seem brighter.

Lando realized long ago that he wants to he in her presence. The truth hit him like a punch in the gut. And he still feels that punch sometimes, especially when he sees her interacting with other people. Especially men.

He’s had thoughts about her before. Many thoughts. Wild fantasies he brushed off as nothing more than fleeting curiosity. And they’ve joked about it, too, their drunken ‘if we’re single at 35’ pact a favorite running gag. But tonight, it doesn’t feel like a joke — he might actually marry her if she keeps letting him invade her personal space like that. Except she wouldn’t have let Lando do that if she didn’t want him there.

He finds himself smiling at his own thoughts. But then, an unwanted stiffness claws his body.

She’s on the way back when a guy leaning against the wall near the bathroom is blocking her path. He’s tall, too close for Lando’s liking, and he is gesturing animatedly. She’s always too polite, smiling as she talks, but Lando notices the way she shifts her weight, edging away slightly.

Something close to jealousy ignites in his chest, but he manages to tame the feeling by looking away, and forcing himself to take a slow sip of his drink. She can handle herself, he knows that. But he’s also ready to step in, just in case he needs to. Most men don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and he’s aware of how insistent some of them can be.

When she finally returns, Lando’s mood has shifted drastically, and she notices it the second she looks at him.

“Hey, you good?” she asks, plopping back down and swinging her legs over his lap again.

“Yeah,” he says shortly, his hand resuming its absent stroking on her shin.

Her brows knit together. “Not you lying to me. Come on, Landinho, what’s with you?”

“Nothing,” he insists, but his tone is clipped, and his eyes won’t quite meet hers.

She punches his arm lightly, trying to break through whatever wall he’s just put up. “You sure?”

He looks at her then, and the vulnerability in his gaze takes her breath away. “Sure,” he says. But his hand tightens slightly on her leg, like he’s holding onto her in more ways than one.

Her heart clenches. Lando is her friend, the one person she can always count on, but in this moment, she feels the air between them growing in different direction. It’s not the first time, and it doesn’t make her uncomfortable, but it’s not easy for her to sit in it, either.

“You’re being weird,” she states, trying to lighten the mood, but her voice wavers.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, forcing a small smile. “Just tired,” adds Lando, but there’s something he hides behind his eyes, something that makes her chest ache.

She studies his face, her teasing words dying on her lips. His eyes are heavy-lidded, the usual spark dulled by the late hour and maybe one drink too many. His movements are slow, lazy, his thumb still caressing her skin.

“I can see that,” she says gently, sliding her legs off his lap. “Up. Come with me?”

The sudden loss of contact pulls him out of his haze, “Where?” asks Lando, his voice faintly slurred with exhaustion.

“Do you trust me?” she replies with a knowing smile, standing up and extending a hand to him. “My god, Lando. My friend gave me keys to one of the rooms upstairs in case I wanted to crash.”

He hesitates, glancing at her outstretched hand before finally letting out a soft laugh and taking it.

They make their way upstairs, the faint thump of music growing quieter with each step. The room isn’t far, tucked at the end of a hallway. She unlocks the door, revealing a small but cozy space. The room is dimly lit, with a single bedside lamp casting a muted glow over the single bed that’s pressed against one wall, a small dresser, and an armchair in the corner.

Lando steps in behind her, the faint hum of the party fading as the door clicks shut. His gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the space. She lingers by the door for a moment, turning the key with a soft click, locking them in; the sound feels final, and heavier than it should.

Lando notices the bed immediately, his eyes narrowing briefly before he rubs the back of his neck, a gesture that betrays his unease. His voice is low and uncertain as he says, “You know what, I can crash on the couch downstairs. It’s fine.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into a small smile as she watches him fidget. “You can,” she agrees, knowing that Lando has the superpower to fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place or how loud the background noise is. “Unfortunately, I locked the door,” she adds with fake concern in her voice.

Lando glances at her, his expression caught somewhere between playful and wary. “Yeah. You can unlock it, though.”

“But I won’t,” she replies, her smile softening, her words carrying an unspoken challenge that Lando catches immediately.

His lips part, and for a moment, he says nothing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Then, quietly, his voice dipping lower, he says, “Then don’t.”

His words linger between them, and she feels the weight of his gaze as it shifts to her. There’s no teasing in his expression now, no trace of the lighthearted Lando she’s used to.

She lets her arms fall to her side, her pulse quickening.

Lando’s chest rises and falls steadily, though there’s a tautness to his posture. His gaze darts back to the bed, then to her, and she swears she sees a flicker of something in his eyes — fear? Desire? Anticipation?

His jaw tightens, his eyes searching hers, and she feels the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on them both. Every glance, every touch, every joke that lingered a second too long — it’s all there, bubbling to the surface.

The tension between them that has simmered for months, maybe even years, suddenly feels unbearable. Lando’s eyes meet hers once again, and the quiet resolve in her gaze breaks something inside him. And then, suddenly, a glance he catches from her it’s all it takes. The restraint he’s held onto for so long snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. Before he knows it, he’s closing the gap between them, his hands cupping her face as his lips crash against hers.

She responds instantly, her hands tangling in his curls as she pulls him closer. The kiss is all-consuming, months of buried feelings and unsaid words spilling out in a rush. It’s intoxicating, a heavy blend of alcohol and the faint sweetness of her cherry lip balm. His lips are soft, impossibly so, molding against hers like they were made to fit. The taste of him is dizzying, a perfect balance of warmth and want, and each movement of his mouth sends sparks of heat rippling through her.

It’s overwhelming, the way Lando kisses her — gentle, but with a growing intensity that leaves her breathless, her heart pounding as if it’s trying to match the rhythm of his. His fingers trail down to her neck, squeezing lightly and pulling her against him as they stumble backward toward the bed.

“Do you know how long—” he begins against her lips, his voice rough with need.

“Too long,” she cuts him off with another kiss while her fingers are rushing to tug at the hem of his shirt.

Lando groans as they tumble onto the bed. Their breaths are loud and uneven, filling the small space as their lips crash together again, need and desire fueling every movement. Her palm presses against the small of his back, coaxing him between her legs. He instinctively follows her guidance, his body lowering against hers until his forehead rests on hers. At that, Lando sighs, not with frustration but a soft exasperation that halts them both.

“Are we… okay?” he asks, half-amused and half-concerned. “We shouldn’t—we should not do this. Not like this.”

She doesn’t release him, her hands still on his sides, her legs loosely wrapped around him. “We are,” she assures him, her voice calm but insistent. “It’s just us, Lando.”

His brows furrow, his lips parting in disbelief. “I know. I just don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and—”

Her hands move to his face, cupping it firmly and forcing him to look directly at her. “Regret it?” the girl asks, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “Don’t be silly. You know this isn’t about tonight. I’ve wanted you for a while now. I know you do, too.”

His eyes flicker with something raw, and he swallows hard. “I do,” he agrees. “But. It’d be such a waste to mess it up.”

The weight of his confession settles over them, and he falls onto the mattress beside her. For a moment, they both stare up at the ceiling, their fingers brushing tentatively before intertwining. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the party faintly bleeding through the walls.

And then, “You’re such a good kisser, by the way,” she finally breaks the silence.

He lets out a chuckle, visibly affected. “You’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m already messed up because of you, Lan,” she confesses, turning onto her side, her fingers finding his arm and tracing slow patterns along its length. “I trust us. No matter the outcome.”

Her hand travels to his chest, her fingers brushing lightly over his collarbone before moving to his jaw. She traces the line of it, her touch light but electrifying. Finally, her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her gaze following her movements so closely, as if she wants to devour him.

Their thoughts run wild, revisiting every stolen glance, the tension, the want — it’s always been there. Every moment brought them here.

And now?

“Do you, really?” asks Lando, his voice laced with curiosity.

She nods, her hands sliding down to rest over his, her fingers curling around his. “Completely. I trust us to figure it out as we go. Don’t you?”

He lets her words settle, a warmth spreading through his body. He does. But he still has to think twice before agreeing to something so drastic, especially when he is faced with something he wants so badly that it makes him burn with impatience.

Finally, Lando sighs, looking at her.

“It’s not a big deal, right?” she says with a quiet laugh, her voice tinged with both affection and relief. “We’ve always been good at just... being us.”

He smiles at that, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “That’s true. We’re pretty fucking great at that.”

Lando’s breathing hitches as she guides his hand to her ass, pressing it against her curves with an undeniable confidence. His grip tightens instinctively, and she drapes a leg over his waist, pulling herself closer. Their eyes lock, her fingers tracing his features, as if committing every contour to memory. They’ve never been so close to each other, and the intimacy of the moment makes his heart race, while hers almost melts under the warmth of his body.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he admits matter-of-factly.

Her lips curl into a faint smile. “Hopefully,” she whispers, her hand traveling south, to work on unbuttoning his jeans.

Lando swallows hard, his gaze darkening as he grips her tighter. “If I fuck you tonight…” his voice drops, laced with a possessiveness that makes her shiver. “I won’t be able to let another guy come anywhere near you again.”

Her eyebrows arch in surprise, finally able to put the pieces together, understanding why Lando was acting so strange earlier.

“Are you jealous, Lando?” she teases, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in her tone.

Lando’s response is silent; instead, he leans in, his lips finding the soft curve of her neck. He sucks lightly, then harder, leaving a blooming hickey that makes her gasp.

When he pulls back, his voice is firm, “No, I just want people to stay away from what’s mine.”

Her breath catches, and before she can stop herself, the word escapes her lips in a near-whisper. “Yours.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the intensity in his gaze speak for him. She pushes at his chest, making him fall back against the mattress with a soft laugh, and crawls on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips.

Impatiently, her hands work on his shirt, pushing it up his chest. “Off,” she demands, tugging until he lifts his arms and lets her pull it over his head.

His hands waste no time, slipping under her skirt and pulling at the lace of her panties. “These,” he says quickly, his breath warm against her collarbone, “are in my way.”

With a sharp pull, he slides them down her thighs, and she shivers as the cool air kisses her damp skin. She leans down, burying her face in the crook of his neck to hide her embarrassment as he guides her hips forward, her bare core pressing against the warmth of his abs. The firm ridges of muscle beneath her send a jolt of pleasure through her body, and she lets out a soft moan.

Lando’s hand tightens on her hip, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Look at that,” he breathes heavily, “What got you so excited, hm?”

She whimpers at his words, the heat pooling in her cheeks as much as between her thighs. “Don’t—” she mumbles into his neck, her voice muffled and shy.

He chuckles softly, the vibration of it against her skin making her shudder. “No, that’s so hot,” he teases, moving her hips just slightly so she drags against him. His own breath catches, and his hips shift upward, pressing the hardness of his length against her thigh. “You feel what you’re doing to me? It’s mutual.”

She lifts her head, her eyes meeting his as she lets her fingers trail down his chest. Next, she adjusts herself as her hand slides lower, brushing against the waistband of his pants before she pushes them down just enough to free him. His cock springs free, and she bites her lip at the sight of it, her own arousal growing as she reaches out to wrap her hand around him.

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough and full of longing.

As she leans down to press her lips to his chest, her tongue flicking over his nipple, a sound escapes him that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She glances up again, amused. “Well,” she teases, her voice playful but sultry, “I think I just found your new kink.”

Lando lets out a weak chuckle, his hand tangling in her hair as he pulls her back up to kiss her. “Shut up,” he speaks over her lips, but the way his hips buck against her hand tells her she’s right. “Everything you do is my kink,” he whispers, the rawness in his voice making her heart race.

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade, and with a playful glint in her eye, her hand squeezes his cock lightly, eliciting a sharp inhale from him. “Sorry,” she giggles, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to make sure.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk before his hands cup her ass firmly, pressing her harder against him. His voice is rough and dripping with need as he almost begs, “Come sit on my face.”

The unexpected plea is leaving her breathless, painting her face in confusion. “What?” she stammers, her voice nearly swallowed by the thrum of arousal coursing through her.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Lando assures her, his tone insistent, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

Without waiting for her to argue, he pushes her skirt up around her waist, revealing the soft skin of her thighs, and pulls her closer to his face. She hesitates for a moment, her nerves warring with her desire, but when his strong hands guide her gently and his lips press a teasing kiss against her inner thigh, she gives in. The first swipe of his tongue against her entrance makes her gasp, her hand flying to the wall to steady herself.

Lando groans as he tastes her, the sound vibrating against her core and sending shockwaves through her body. One arm wraps tightly around her thigh, anchoring her to him, while his free hand drifts down to his cock, stroking himself in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue. Her moans spill into the air, mixing with his as Lando’s mouth works her over like a man starved, warm and wet and utterly relentless.

“Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky as the intensity builds. Her hips jerk against his mouth instinctively, and he responds by pulling her even closer, burying his face deeper between her legs.

His tongue flicks, swirls, and presses in all the right places, and she can barely keep herself upright. She has to press both of her palms on the wall, but even then it’s not enough to keep her grounded. Not when Lando laps at her clit, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her still as her body begins to tremble.

“You taste so fucking good,” he informs her between strokes of his tongue, his words muffled but clear enough to make her toes curl.

As her breaths turn shallow and erratic, she feels the pressure coiling tightly in her abdomen. Lando senses it, too, and his grip tightens, his movements growing more fervent. “Wanna come for me?” he asks as impatient as she is.

Before she can even process his question, her climax crashes into her like a tidal wave, her thighs trembling around his head as her moans echo through the room. Lando doesn’t stop, his mouth and tongue coaxing her through every pulse and tremor until she’s gasping for air.

In one swift, effortless motion, he pulls her down onto the bed and flips her over, positioning himself above her. His lips are slick, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust as he pumps two fingers into her, the wet heat of her still clenching around him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb brushing against her sensitive clit as his fingers curl inside. “Let me feel you.”

Her body arches off the bed as another wave of pleasure crests over her, Lando’s name spilling from her lips in breathless cries. The sheer intensity of his touch and the quickness of it all leave her spinning, her mind barely able to keep up as he drives her over the edge once more.

By the time her breathing begins to steady, Lando leans down, his lips brushing hers in a lingering kiss, tasting her satisfaction on his tongue. He grins against her mouth, utterly smug but entirely captivated.

“See how fucking delicious you are?” he whispers, and she can only nod, still lost in the aftermath of him unraveling her completely.

Seeing the pleasure etched across her face, Lando can barely hold it together. His hands tremble slightly as he shoves his jeans and boxers down for good, freeing himself at last. His cock, heavy and flushed, rests against her thigh, the warmth of her skin giving him goosebumps. He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers as he pauses for just a moment, meeting her gaze with a mix of vulnerability and pure lust.

“Are we really gonna do this?” asks Lando, his voice hiding too much desire under its raspy tone.

His eyes search hers, looking for any hint of doubt. Luckily, there is none. She just nods frantically, her hands sliding down his back to cup the firm muscles of his ass.

Her touch sends electricity through him, and she guides him where she needs him most, her body arching in anticipation. “I want you. Please.”

Without breaking eye contact, he sinks into her, and the world stops for both of them. His head falls forward, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he feels her warmth envelop him, her slick heat drawing him in effortlessly. Her body opens for him so easily, so perfectly, that it steals his breath. The tension that had coiled tightly in her frame melts away as her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer.

Her arms encircle his shoulders, holding him tightly while she gasps Lando’s name. Her voice is music to his ears, and he presses his forehead against hers, the connection between them both overwhelming, yet grounding. Her fingers slide into his curls, playing with the strands at the nape of his neck as her hips shift instinctively, adjusting to his size.

“God, you feel…” he trails off, unable to find the words. Instead, he lets his body speak for him, drawing back before thrusting forward again. His movements are purposeful and powerful, each one making the bed creak slightly beneath them and pushing her up and down the sheets.

Her lips part with soft cries, her fingers tightening in his hair as her body meets each of his thrusts. “Lando,” she moans, her voice full of need and adoration, spurring him on. “Yes, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He catches her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her sounds as his hands wander over her body. His fingers hook under the hem of her t-shirt, and he tugs it upward, breaking the kiss momentarily to pull it over her head. The sight of her bare skin, flushed and glistening, takes his breath away. Her breasts are adorned with black lace, and the contrast against her skin ignites something primal in him.

“Stunning,” says Lando just as his hand drifts to her chest, brushing over the delicate fabric.

The way she arches into his touch, her nails scraping lightly against his shoulders, drives him wild. His thrusts deepen, his hips moving with purpose as the room fills with the sounds of their bodies meeting, her moans, and his ragged breaths.

“Fucking hell,” he rasps. His jaw clenches as he feels her tightening around him. “You’re killing me. So tight and—”

Before he can finish, she pulls him into a kiss. It’s shallow, their lips barely meeting as they breathe each other’s air. Her nails dig into his back, her legs trembling as she holds him as close as humanly possible.

“You’re so good, Lando,” she murmurs, her voice quivering, her praise like gasoline on his fire. “My favorite boy.”

Her words send him over the edge of control, his hips stuttering as he thrusts deep inside her, feeling her walls begin to flutter and clench around his cock. Her back arches, her head burying into the pillow as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave. Again.

Her moans are unfiltered, and she clutches him like he’s her lifeline, while Lando stills inside her, groaning low and long as her body grips him so tightly that knocks the air out of his lungs. He presses his forehead against her chest, their breaths hurried as her aftershocks pulse around him so sweetly. Her nails scrape lightly down his back, grounding them both, continuing to whisper his name like a prayer.

It’s enough for Lando to surrender to his own orgasm, his body trembling as wave after wave of release takes him over. He stays buried inside her, unwilling to part just yet. The warm tightness around him makes him shudder, his hand gripping her thigh to anchor himself.

When he finally pulls out, he hesitates before pressing his knee between her legs, feeling the slick warmth of their combined arousal smearing against his skin. She squirms against him, her overstimulated body trembling, her hips shifting involuntarily as aftershocks ripple through her.

Lando watches her, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his voice husky as he whispers, “Forget 35. Let’s get married tomorrow.”

She exhales sharply, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I’m down,” she teases, her tone light but affectionate. “Let’s book the venue now.”

He looks at her, gaze softening, filled with something deeper as he reaches behind her and, with one measured motion, unclasps her bra. The suddenness of it catches her off guard, her eyes widening as he tosses it aside like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Before she can say a word, Lando leans over the side of the bed, fishing for his shirt. He finds it, holding it up, then tugging it over her head, the oversized fabric swallowing her frame.

“Perfect fit,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against her arms as he helps her adjust it. The gesture makes her chest tighten, her heart swelling with an ache she doesn’t fully understand yet.

After that, Lando slides back into his boxers and pulls the covers over both of them. The bed is small, forcing their bodies to press together in a tangle of limbs. It doesn’t feel awkward, though. It feels like a new home, safe and peaceful.

He rests his head on her chest, his breath warm and steady against her, while his hand absently caresses her through the fabric of his shirt, his fingers brushing over her nipple. Everything about the moment feels somehow so normal, like they’ve been this way forever.

The silence stretches on, so comforting, until she suddenly breaks it with a soft groan. “I have to pee again.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 12 hours ago

Text

Oh oh I can tell you how I handle this!

First, I must acknowledge that epithets are hard. When writing in a specific character's POV, you have to be careful about describing another character only using descriptors that they would use or it'll feel awkward and weird. (I don't generally think about my sister's height relative to mine and therefore wouldn't refer to her as "the tall one" or even "the taller one", for example, unless it's relevant in the moment. Talking? Not relevant. Her hitting her head on a ledge that I missed? Relevant. That wouldn't be true of someone I just met. If you're tall[er than me] I'm probably noticing it and don't have other ways to differentiate you from other strangers.)

Luckily, I don't usually have to resort to epithets in writing, because readers can generally follow pronouns and support way more proper name uses than you might expect! Pronouns by definition are placeholders for proper names. Where writing gets confusing is when it feels like the pronouns are floating free and unmatched. Reconnecting the proper noun and the pronoun is all you need to reset.

Within a paragraph, use a proper noun enough to be clear. Vague, I know, but it really is an art instead of a science and largely comes down to personal taste. Refining your personal taste can help a ton, and one way to do that is to look at works by people who you feel write these kinds of scenes clearly and cogently. I'm going to use my own writing as an example, just to make it easy for myself.

Structuring your writing so the subject is fairly consistent will help a ton, as will "checking in" with a proper noun when it feels like you've checked in on the other person more recently.

[alt: The muscles in Bruce’s face, Jason realized, were good at going completely still when surprised. That was useful. He had said intervened like Jason had done it on purpose, throwing himself into this nightmare to save Bruce instead of acting like a petulant, stomping child. He had just a moment to wonder if the look from Bruce was meant as gratitude or as an apology when Bruce turned his attention back to the others. “It should reverse in a few days.”]

In the snippet above, because I'm moving tightly between two he/him characters, I use their names just enough to stick into place who's being reference at any given point. If I had wanted to be extra careful, I could have changed "He had just a moment to wonder" to "Jason had just a moment to wonder."

Over multiple paragraphs, when you're sticking with one person, reconnecting (or what I mentally refer to as "checking in") can happen once a paragraph and really shouldn't be needed more than that.

[alt: He really didn’t have much of note to say. Dick narrated his way through the canned goods and the dry goods, making jokes about Wally’s Skittles stash and the cans of Spaghetti-Os Roy demanded be kept on hand but no one else ever touched. He talked about a TV show he had been watching and made a joke that elicited a hrmm from Bruce that would have been a laugh from anyone else. And the more he talked, the more he remembered little stories from his week that he had tucked away with a mental note to tell Bruce.

At last, though, Dick had finished his final story and let the call lapse into a pause that stretched into silence. He bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with the rolls of gauze, stacking them into pyramids outside the gutted medical kit. He could never tell with Bruce whether the silences were contented or an interrogation technique, the patience of an investigator applying pressure to a reluctant witness. In the end, it didn’t much matter.]

But really, truly, the TL;DR of it all is you don't need as many epithets as you think; as long as you don't go crazy with your subject and object switches and check in on your connections regularly, you can lean on pronouns way more than you think; and readers can handle way more uses of names than you might suspect.

Me writing a scene with two or more people of the same gender and trying not to get the readers confused, while also trying not to overuse the characters' names or epithets

#I don't know how coherent this is because it's HARD to explain something you know by feel #but man do I love proper noun and pronoun linkage #gbu Prof. Cheney you stuck with me for life #writing advice #fanfic writer problems

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baby-yongbok · 1 day ago

Text

Attitude Adjustment

Seungmin x afab!Reader

✧ Genre - Smut - Soft dom!Seungmin ✧ WC - 1k

✧ Content warning - Oral sex (m rec.), Light breath play, slapping? (softly and for like a second), Mentions of punishments - in a brat tamer kinda way cause reader is kinda brat - He's mean in a nice way. [ MDNI ] ✧ Masterlist ✧

You were used to his punishments.

You've developed a certain love for them. Each and every one was meant to target a specific desire of yours while teaching you whatever lesson he saw suitable. They were tailored to you.

The events that lead up to this particular punishment are hazy to you. It was a rough day and Seungmin knew that but somewhere in his attempt to better the damage you took some blind shots at him.

Needless to say, he wasn't having it.

“This could've gone differently.” He sighs, hand resting on top of your head with his fingers splayed and digging into your messy locks. “But maybe this is what you were hoping for. Is it? This what you wanted?

You blink up at him, your eyes watering as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat again and again.

“Ah, right, your mouth is full.” His fingers curl into a fist in your hair, pulling you up and off of him. A string of spit connects you to his leaky length and you take a deep inhale.

His other hand comes down to caress your cheek, his thumb dips down to wipe a bit of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Answer me, c'mon.”

You take another deep breath. “I didn't aim for this.” He tsks, raising an eyebrow.

“Your behavior says otherwise.” His voice is smooth, gentle, but it has that teasing edge that you're used to. You've come to love it, so much so that you find yourself wondering if you really didn't mean to end up on your knees in front of him this evening. Maybe this is what you had hoped for afterall. Either way, you’re not complaining about the turn out.

“My behavior is just fine.” You retort, averting your gaze from his sharp one. He smiles, something that anyone else would find charming but you know better than that.

“Every time you've opened this pretty mouth today…” His hand moves over your cheek, down to your chin and roughly turns your head so that your eyes are back on his. His demeanor is a stark contrast to his actions. “...you've found a way to piss me off.”

You'd be lying if you said you weren't dripping for him. If you weren't already on your knees you'd drop to them right now. No questions asked.

“I think that I deserve a little quiet time, don't you think so, baby?” His hand is in your hair again, guiding you to his cock and stuffing your mouth full. “Can you shut up for a bit? Hm?” He sucks in a sharp breath, watching as he disappears into your mouth.

“I was just trying to help you, ya know? Trying to make my baby feel better. Then I get the brunt of your attitude. That's not very fair.” He controls your head, maneuvering you up and down his length with a fist full of your hair.

Spit drools from the corners of your mouth, your eyes sparkle up at him and you're soaked.

The sounds that Seungmin makes are subtle. Low moans and grunts, heavy sighs and faint whines. “Tap my thigh if you need a break, yeah?” He pushes your head down to the hilt of his cock until your nose brushes up against him. Your eyes water as you gag around him and he moans louder.

“You keep on wasting your breath, gotta teach you how to save it.” He collects your hair in a messy ponytail and grips it tight when he pulls you up off of him.

“Is that what you need? Need me to teach you?” You gasp, panting lightly. “Answer me.” Your lips are messy, swollen from the stretch of him but somehow you still get them to move in your favor.

“Yeah.” You breathe and he grins at you.

“Yeah?” He repeats, teasing you.

“My baby just needs to be choked with my cock to learn how to behave, that's it?” You nod, mumbling another ‘Yeah’ that gets cut off by the tip of his dick being slapped against your lips.

“Save your breath, baby. Take it.” He slides back into your mouth, pushing you down slowly until he hits the back of your throat. He groans, throwing his head back for just a second before looking back to admire the way you take him.

“That's it, baby. So pretty when you choke on me like that.” He coos, brushing your hair out of your face. “Look at me.”

You blink up at him and his exhale stutters slightly. “That attitude has been adjusted, huh?” He pulls you back up and you gasp, coughing a bit.

“Need a second?” You nod and he lets his fist fall from your hair. His hand caresses your cheek again and he watches as you catch your breath.

“Think you've learned your lesson?” Any sane person would probably say yes. They'd say what they'd have to to get the punishment to end, maybe you're insane.

“No.” You press your thighs together when he looks at you because he's looking at you like that. Sharp eyes and flushed cheeks, lips pink and dying to be kissed. “I think I still need a lesson… or two.”

Seungmin looks down at you with a menacing smile spreading across those very kissable lips. “You are insatiable in every aspect of life.” His hand travels down the side of your neck, soft and careful. His fingers wrap around your throat, pressing at the sides just enough for your breath to catch in your chest.

You keen and he could crumble right there. “Not to mention infuriating.” He smiles wider, pulling you closer as he leans over to get in your face. “You like having me control when you breathe, baby? You like being punished like this?”

He knows the answer to that already but he wants to hear you say it. He lets up on his squeezing and you huff for air. “Yes.” You pant.

He kisses your forehead,“That's my girl.” His free hand takes its place in your hair, fisting the strands and pulling you back onto his cock.

“Keep it up and I might help you with that mess between your legs, alright?” He guides you down and you share a moan. When he hits the back of your throat he pinches your nose.

“Let's get you started with another lesson, yeah?”

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

Perm. Tag List:

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@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @lghtdarling @yaorzu-blog

@wealwayskeepfighting

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vunblr · 2 days ago

Text

A Cabin for Two

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Desperate for a break from the constant interruptions of their daily lives, Bucky plans a getaway to a secluded cabin deep in the woods. What begins as a peaceful escape soon tests their patience, sparks intimacy, and reveals the strength of their connection.

Word Count: 8.3k

notes: Part of the Roots and Branches AU

The quiet of the mornings was a fragile thing, and it had been shattered almost an hour ago by the insistent chime of the doorbell. Bucky lay in bed, with his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he listened to the muffled voices drifting from the front door. She’d answered it quickly but politely, though the conversation had dragged on far longer than it should have.

He sighed, the comfort and warmth of the bed doing little to soothe the irritation bubbling under his skin. Alone time had become a rare treasure, and lately, it seemed like everyone in town had made it their mission to interfere. He knew the elderly neighbor meant well, but after endless minutes of unsolicited chatter, his patience was wearing thin.

Her polite attempts to wrap things up were obvious, even from here: a gentle laugh, a soft, “Oh, well, I won’t keep you much longer,” but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Bucky’s jaw tightened for the first time in the day as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

With a grumble, he stood and pulled on his jeans, then grabbed his flannel shirt from the chair in the corner. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he crossed to the hallway, shrugging into his coat and grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.

When he reached the entryway, he stopped briefly, flicking his eyes between the two women. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and her expression was somewhere between apologetic and exasperated. He arched a brow, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low but polite, nodding at the elderly woman as he signaled his intention to pass.

“Oh!” The neighbor blinked up at him, clearly startled but recovering quickly. “Heading out so early?”

“I’m going to the workshop,” he almost growled as he glanced at her. Then, turning to Y/n, he softened slightly. “Call you later.”

She tilted her head, and a small frown tugged at her lips. “Oh, And breakfast? Want me to make y-”

“No need, darling,” he cut her off gently but firmly, turning on his heel before she could protest.

The screen door creaked and slammed shut behind him, and he strode toward the truck with purposeful steps. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he let out a deep breath, gripping the wheel as he stared at the empty road ahead.

Enough was enough, they needed a break. A time for just the two of them, away from the endless interruptions and the ever-watchful eyes of the town. The idea took root in his mind as the engine roared to life, and a plan took form as he drove toward the workshop. A cabin, a weekend, and nothing but the quiet woods surrounding them.

---

The workshop smelled of sawdust and varnish, and the familiar hum of machinery was already buzzing in the background as Bucky pulled up. He parked the truck, killed the engine, and sat for a moment, gripping the steering wheel as the plan solidified in his mind. The only problem? It was the height of the season. Every halfway-decent cabin in the area would already be booked.

“Damn it,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the seat with a groan.

Swallowing his pride, he pushed open the truck door and made his way inside. The workshop was bustling as usual, but Sam spotted him almost immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing as he approached. “Morning, sunshine,” he drawled, already a grin tugging at his lips. “You look grumpier than usual. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bucky replied curtly, shrugging off his coat and draping it over a nearby chair.

Sam raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re stomping around like someone stole your breakfast, but it’s ‘nothing.’ Got it.”

Bucky shot him a warning look, but Sam only chuckled, leaning against the workbench with crossed arms.

“Actually…” Bucky started, gruffly, “you know any cabins ‘round here? Something quiet. Away from people.”

Sam’s grin widened immediately. “You mean, like your house?”

Bucky leveled him with a dirty look, “Farther away.”

Sam’s grin widened. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Why do you need a faraway cabin, Buck?”

“Just answer the question,” Bucky muttered, pulling a pencil from behind his ear and fiddling with it to avoid Sam’s knowing gaze.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said, smirking. “There’s a couple of places I know of, but good luck finding one that’s not booked. You’re cutting it close, man.”

Bucky huffed, staring down at the workbench. “Figured. That’s why I’m asking you.”

Sam tilted his head, his grin turning sly. “And why exactly do you need a cabin? I thought you hated leaving your place for anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“Because,” Bucky grumbled, his voice tight with reluctance, “we could use a break. Just us. No interruptions.”

Sam’s grin practically split his face. “Oh, so it’s for her.” He let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying Bucky’s discomfort. “Man, you’re whipped. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Sam,” Bucky warned, already starting to get irritated. “Are you gonna help or not?”

Sam chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. “Relax, big guy. I’ve got a cousin who rents out his place sometimes. It’s a little rustic, but it’s quiet, and I’m pretty sure he keeps a spot open for last-minute bookings.”

Bucky perked up slightly, meeting his gaze with Sam’s. “Think he’ll go for it?”

“For you? Probably,” Sam said, grinning. “But only if you promise to stop scowling at everyone for the rest of the week.”

----

By midmorning, Sam’s cousin had called back, and to Bucky’s relief, there was an opening. Apparently, Sam had pulled some strings, mentioning a few owed favors that Bucky didn’t bother asking about. He wasn’t thrilled about relying on Sam’s connections, but he’d take the win. The cabin was booked for the weekend, tucked deep in the woods with no neighbors for miles, a perfect escape.

The morning passed uneventfully after that. He kept busy at the workshop, occupying his mind with the trip and all the things he’d need to prepare. It wasn’t until just after noon that the door creaked open, and the sound of boots on the wooden floor caught his attention.

“Brought you something,” her voice chimed, light and warm, cutting through the steady hum of saws and chatter.

Bucky looked up to see her standing there, the familiar green tupperware in her hands and a smile tugging at her lips. His heart softened instantly, but with Sam and a couple of others milling about, he cleared his throat and kept his expression neutral.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, stepping closer to take the container.

“I wanted to,” she replied. “Figured you didn’t even have breakfast, did you?”

Caught, Bucky gave her a small, sheepish nod. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, low enough that only she could hear.

She tilted her head, widening her smile. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you eat it before it gets cold.”

He was about to step back when she leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against his stubbled cheek. His muscles tensed on instinct, heat rushing to his face as he shot a quick glance around the room. Sam, of course, was already watching, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Aww, such pampering,” he teased, dragging out the words. “Now I get why he wants to-”

Bucky’s glare cut him off mid-sentence, sharp and unrelenting. If looks could kill, Sam’s head would’ve been obliterated on the spot.

“Shut it, Wilson,” he growled, under his breath.

Sam held up his hands in mock surrender, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “Alright, alright. No need to get your flannel in a twist. Just saying, man, she’s a keeper.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, and his ears tinged pink as he turned back to her, holding the tupper like it might save him from further embarrassment. She caught the faint tension in his shoulders and, more curiously, the lingering echo of Sam’s teasing. Tilting her head, she gave him a pointed look.

“So,” she asked lightly, her voice curious but playful, “what do you want?”

Bucky blinked, his brows knitting in confusion. “What?”

She arched a brow, twitching the corner of her mouth with amusement. “I pamper you,” she said, gesturing toward the tupperware in his hands, “so you want...?”

His jaw tightened, and a muscle in his cheek twitched as he quickly looked away. “Nothin’,” he muttered gruffly. “He just likes to talk.”

Her smile widened, and she folded her arms leaning slightly closer, clearly not buying his attempt to brush it off. He shifted awkwardly under her gaze, fumbling with the lid of the container.

“I should probably eat this,” he said finally, rushed and uneven, “and, uh, get back to the project.” He scratched the back of his neck, brushing the short ponytail he’d tied earlier that morning.

She stifled a laugh, and her eyes softened as she watched him retreat into himself with that signature mix of bashfulness and stubbornness. “Alright,” she said gently, stepping back with a teasing glint in her eye. “Enjoy the casserole, and don’t forget to actually eat it this time, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, turning toward the workbench with a slight hunch to his shoulders, clearly hoping to escape further scrutiny.

Behind him, Sam’s quiet chuckle reached his ears, and he sent another sharp glare in his direction. But as he settled back into his work, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

-----

Bucky parked his truck outside her house. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and swung the door open, but as he stepped down, a sharp pang shot through his left arm.

“Dammit,” he muttered, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulder as he slammed the truck door shut. For the past two days, the damp weather had been wreaking havoc on the mess of titanium and bone beneath his skin. He grimaced, shaking it off as he made his way up the porch steps.

Fishing the spare key from his pocket, he fumbled with the lock for a moment before letting himself in.

The house was quiet, her laptop sat open on the coffee table, the screen glowing with text she’d been working on. She wasn’t in sight, probably in the bathroom or kitchen. Shrugging off his coat, he draped it over a chair and wandered closer to the coffee table, drawn by the colorful streaks of red and green she’d marked across the page.

He leaned in, squinting at the scene she was editing. A heated moment between a widowed heroine and a cowboy -one who, judging by the way she’d scribbled well-endowed in the margins- wasn’t exactly shy about his physical assets.

Bucky’s brow quirked as he read further. The barn. The hay. The cowboy’s intense sense of duty. The way the poor widow…wait. Was this guy seriously using a breeding-

“Bucky!”

He flinched, startled by her voice, and straightened so fast his neck cracked. She stood in the doorway, wide eyes darting between him and her laptop.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, rushing forward and snapping the laptop shut faster than he could blink.

He raised his hands in mock innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Didn’t mean to snoop,” he drawled with amusement. “Just... couldn’t help but notice what kind of ‘research’ you’re doing these days.”

Her cheeks burned as she folded her arms, trying -and failing- to look unbothered. “It’s not research. It’s editing and proof-reading,” she corrected quickly. “And you’re supposed to be grabbing your tools, not reading over my shoulder!”

Bucky smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the back of the couch. “That what you call it? Editing?” She narrowed her eyes “I didn’t say anything about the, uh...” His smirk deepened as her glare sharpened. “...dedication that cowboy seems to have toward the widow and the old breeding stock on the barn.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Chuckling, Bucky pushed off the couch and moved closer. “Relax, sweetheart.” He brushed a hand against her arm, warmly and reassuringly. “I came to grab my tools, but... I’ve got something to tell you.”

She peeked at him through her fingers. “What’s that?”

His smirk faded into something softer, more thoughtful. “How do you feel about a weekend away? Just us. No laptops, no interruptions, no... cowboys.”

Her hands dropped from her face, and her eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck under his short ponytail. “Yeah. Got a cabin lined up. Quiet. Middle of nowhere. Thought it’d be good to... get outta here for a bit.”

Her expression melted into a warm smile, and she stepped closer, resting her hands lightly on his chest. “That sounds perfect, Buck.”

He ducked his head, and his lips twitched into a small, shy smile. “Figured you’d like it.”

She leaned up, brushing a kiss against his lips. “I love it. And you.”

His heart stuttered but he recovered quickly, pulling her closer. “Love you too, darlin’,”

She tilted her head with a playful glint in her eye as her hands slid down his chest. “So,” she began, teasing but curious, “what’s the occasion? Don’t tell me I forgot some special date I’m not aware of?”

Bucky froze for a split second, fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater as his eyes darted briefly away. “I just-” he started, but the words got stuck in his throat. He kicked himself inwardly, forcing himself to man up and meet her gaze. Taking a breath, he straightened his shoulders.

“I want alone time with you,” he said firmly, tumbling out the words with an edge of determination.

Her lips parted in slight surprise, though her smile didn’t fade. She somehow understood where this was going, but knowing how rare it was for him to be this straightforward, she decided to play innocent and coax him into saying more.

“Alone?” she echoed, tilting her head. “But you already sleep here four days a week, and normally on weekends we-”

“Completely alone,” he cut her off.

She blinked at the rare flash of certainty in his voice, but his grumpy pout that followed had her stifling a laugh.

“No boy scout cookie sellers,” he grumbled while his expression darkened at the memory of being roped into buying five boxes last week. “No bored old ladies ringing the doorbell to trap you all morning. And not that friend of yours who always shows up for baking lessons she doesn’t even take seriously.”

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled at his increasing exasperation. “I get it.”

His frown softened slightly, but he still looked serious.

“And...” she ventured, with a sly grin, “what exactly are your plans for those days alone, hm?”

Bucky’s ears flushed red, and his mouth opened as though to respond, but for a moment, nothing came out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, flicking his eyes to the side before landing back on her.

“Well...” he started, “figured we could... I don’t know. Talk. Sleep in. Walk in the woods. Maybe build a fire. Eat something you didn’t have to cook.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just... be.”

Her heart softened, and her grin faded into a gentle smile as she stepped closer. “That sounds perfect, Buck,” she said softly, brushing a hand against his cheek.

His eyes searched hers for a moment, then he exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips as she added, “especially for the part where we could wander around naked at any hour knowing no one would come.”

Bucky froze, tightening his hands instinctively on her waist. His gaze flickered with something darker, primal, as her words hung in the air.

She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks warming as she saw his expression shift, at his blue eyes narrowing with interest. Emboldened, she tilted her head closer, dropping her voice into a sultry whisper. “And… since there are no neighbors... we can be all loud... and naughty.”

The growl that escaped him was low and deep, sending a delicious shiver racing down her spine. His hands slid down to her hips, holding her firmly as he stepped closer “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Am I?” she teased, as she trailed her fingers up his chest, her nails brushing lightly over the fabric of his sweater.

“You are,” he confirmed, tightening his grip just enough to make her breath hitch. “You sure you can keep up?”

Her laughter was soft and breathless as she leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

----

The weekend came by, and they headed off to the cabin. It was nice. The sun was dipping low, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape. The truck rumbled steadily along the winding road, and the soft hum of the cozy heater filled the silence between them.

But as they rounded a bend, the truck jolted suddenly, listing to one side.

“Great,” Bucky muttered, pulling to the shoulder and cutting the engine. He stepped out into the crisp evening air, already suspecting the problem before he even reached the rear tire. The flat was obvious, the sagging rubber was almost completely deflated. He muttered another curse, running a hand through his hair.

He heard the passenger door open and turned to see her climbing out, tugging her coat tighter around herself as the snow began to drift down in lazy flakes.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, frowning as she approached.

“Coming to help,” she replied simply, her boots crunching against the snow as she reached his side.

“You should get back in the truck,” he said, gruffly but not unkind. “You’ll get sick out here.”

She raised a brow, crossing her arms. “The same could be said for you.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, already crouching to pull the jack and wrench from the toolbox in the bed of the truck.

“Bucky,” she said softly, stepping closer. “You’re not fine. I know your arm’s bothering you.”

He froze briefly, before resuming his task without looking at her. “It’s nothin’. Just the weather messin’ with it.”

“And you were going to say something, when? she retorted. “Let me help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He shook his head, gripping the jack with his good hand and positioning it under the truck. “I’ve got it,” he said, firmly. “Go sit in the truck where it’s warm.”

“Bucky,” she pressed, kneeling beside him despite the cold seeping through her jeans. “Stubborn man, you’re in pain, you’re not fooling me.”

He shot her a sideways glance, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I’m not lettin’ you freeze your ass off out here. Go inside.”

She reached out, placing a hand on his arm, not the one that ached, but the other, steady and sure. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly.

His jaw clenched, and his resolve flickered as her words settled over him. Finally, he sighed, easing the tension in his shoulders just slightly. “Fine,” he muttered. “You can hold the damn flashlight.”

She smiled, leaning up to press a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing the flashlight from the truck. As she illuminated the work area, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath.

The flat tire took longer than it should have. His left arm ached like a bitch, and each motion was a reminder of the puzzle of titanium and bone that would never quite work the way it used to. He tried to power through, determined to manage on his own, but his movements grew slower and more strained.

“Here, let me help,” she said softly, stepping forward as he struggled to lift the wheel into place.

“I got it,” he gritted out, but his grip faltered just enough for her to step in, steadying the weight with him.

It stung more than he cared to admit, her intervention feeling like a bruise to his pride. Once the wheel was finally secured, he tightened the lug nuts in silence, his mood darkening with every passing minute.

By the time they climbed back into the truck, the snow was falling heavier. The heater hummed softly, but the tension in the cab was palpable.

Bucky stared sternly at the road, gripping the wheel as his mind spiraled. The sting of the cold on his bare hands, the ache in his arm, the fact that he hadn’t been able to handle the damn tire without her help, it all gnawed at him, feeding the deep-rooted insecurities he tried so hard to bury.

“You okay?” she asked gently, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, not looking at her.

She hesitated, scanning his profile. The stiffness in his posture, the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the wheel like it might slip from his grasp, she knew he wasn’t okay.

“Do you want some coffee?” she offered, lifting the thermos she’d packed. “It’s still warm.”

“No, thanks,” he replied, clipped.

She frowned, and her concern grew as the silence stretched on. His hands, red and raw from the cold, caught her attention, and she wondered if the pain had worsened.

“Bucky,” she said softly, “do you want me to drive? Your hands must be hurting after working in this weather without gloves.”

That did it.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his jaw locking as the words struck a nerve. He knew she meant well, but the offer felt like a confirmation of everything his mind was already whispering, that he wasn’t enough. That he couldn’t even take care of something as simple as a flat tire without help.

“I said I’m fine,” he muttered tensely.

She bit her lip, sensing the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior but unsure how to reach him. “It’s not a big deal,” she tried, her tone gentle. “We’re in this together, remember? There’s no shame in letting me help.”

His grip tightened further, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “I said I can handle it,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration he hadn’t meant to direct at her.

He drove silently, fixing his gaze on the snow-dusted road ahead, while his mind churned with doubts. He hated the way he’d snapped at her, hated that she’d seen him struggle. Most of all, he hated the nagging voice in the back of his head, whispering that maybe he wasn’t enough for her.

---

The rest of the trip passed in silence. She had shifted slightly toward the window, leaning her shoulder against the door, with her gaze fixed on the snow-covered forest rushing past. The quiet wasn’t oppressive, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

Bucky’s grip on the wheel loosened. He hadn’t meant to snap, but the words had come out sharp anyway, cutting through her concern with the jagged edge of his pride.

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as guilt settled in its place. She’d only been trying to help, and he’d let his frustration get the better of him.

At some point, the need to bridge the growing chasm between them grew too strong to ignore. He cleared his throat softly, his voice came low and gruff as he murmured, “A little coffee sounds nice now.”

There was no answer.

Frowning slightly, he glanced over at her, ready to apologize. But the words caught in his throat when he saw her.

Her head rested lightly against the window, her eyes closed, breathing softly and even. She’d fallen asleep.

Of course, he thought, with a pang of guilt. It was late, the air outside was cold, and to top it off, he hadn’t even been good company. He’d acted like an idiot, stewing in his frustration instead of appreciating the woman who had braved the freezing weather just to help him.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in the soft curve of her lips and the way her lashes rested against her cheeks. She looked peaceful, and the sight tugged at something deep inside him, making him tighten his grip on the wheel.

He returned his focus to the road, clenching his jaw briefly as he wrestled with the mess of emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t undo the way he’d acted, but he could make up for it. For now, he’d let her rest, keep her warm and comfortable.

----

As the cabin came into view at last, tucked into a small clearing in the snow-dusted forest, Bucky frowned slightly. It was smaller than he’d expected and not exactly what you’d call visually appealing. The roof looked like it hadn’t been repaired in years, the paint on the shutters was peeling, and the porch sagged just enough to make him hesitate about stepping on it.

He sighed quietly, chastising himself for being so quick to judge. Focus on the goal, he thought. Time alone with her. No neighbors. No interruptions. That’s all that matters.

She stirred beside him as he turned off the engine, and her eyes fluttered open. She sat up quickly, stretching as she glanced at him. “Oh, sorry I fell asleep,” she murmured, her voice still a little thick.

He shook his head, brushing off her apology. “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I was... a grump. Didn’t mean to ruin the start of the trip.”

She tilted her head, and her gaze softened as a small smile tugged at her lips. “You didn’t ruin anything, Buck.”

He gave her a faint smile in return before glancing back at the cabin. “Let’s get inside,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

Getting the door open was another matter entirely. The old lock protested against his attempts, creaking and groaning as he jiggled the key. After a few muttered curses and a bit of elbow grease, the door finally swung open with a loud creak.

He stepped inside first. He’d fantasized that even if the cabin looked old on the outside, the inside would be a pleasant surprise, something rustic but cozy, maybe with modern upgrades to make up for the exterior.

No such luck.

The interior was just as outdated as the outside. The furniture was mismatched and worn, the wallpaper was peeling in places, and the lighting was dim at best. The faint smell of wood smoke lingered in the air, and the fireplace looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

Bucky stood in the center of the small room, crossing his arms as he took it all in. He’d definitely be having a chat with Sam about this cousin of his when they got back.

But for now, he had to find something positive to say, even as the disappointment tugged at the corners of his mind. He glanced back at her as she stepped in, brushing her hands over her arms to warm up.

“It’s... clean,” he finally said, feeling the words awkward as they left his mouth.

She blinked at him, then looked around, and her lips twitched as she fought back a laugh. “Clean, huh?”

He shrugged, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Let’s see... also it’s got four walls and a roof. That’s somethin’, right?” He sighed, glancing at the dingy fireplace. “I’ll start the fire.”

She smiled softly, setting her bag by the door. “I’ll grab the luggage,” she announced, turning toward the truck.

“Wait,” he called, already stepping toward her. “I can-”

“Nope,” she cut him off, spinning on her heel to face him, hands on her hips. “Don’t even start, James Buchanan Barnes.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t be out in this snow. It’s freezing.”

“Exactly,” she retorted, pointing at him. “Which is why you’re not going out there either. Your arm’s already giving you trouble, and I’m not about to let you make it worse.”

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, but she wasn’t having it.

“Fine, huh?” she shot back, raising a brow. “Last I checked, we’re not living in the caves anymore. You don’t have to do everything yourself. I’m perfectly capable of hauling a couple of bags.”

“Darlin’-” he started, but she stepped closer, resting her hand lightly on his chest.

“Bucky,” she said gently. “Let me do this. You’re not proving anything by pushing yourself in this weather. Just... let me help, okay?”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as his eyes searched hers. He hated the thought of sitting idle while she did the heavy lifting, but the concern in her gaze gave him pause. Finally, he sighed, slightly slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But take it slow.”

“Always do,” she said with a small smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door.

-----

Starting the fire was proving to be yet another test for Bucky’s patience. He muttered a string of curses under his breath as the stubborn logs refused to catch, the kindling only sputtering weakly before fizzling out. At this point, he was starting to wonder if this whole thing was part of some hidden camera prank, because damn.

She had reentered the cabin while he was still wrestling with the fireplace, carrying their luggage and moving quietly so as not to disrupt his focus -or, more accurately-, his battle with the firewood. She unpacked their belongings in the small bedroom, making the best of the limited space and creaky furniture.

When she finished, Bucky was still hunched over the fireplace, furrowed brows and lips set in a grim line of determination. Suppressing a smile, she decided to let him be, for now, heading to the kitchen instead.

The tiny space was quaint, with mismatched cabinets and appliances that looked older than she was. She busied herself getting familiar with it, unpacking their groceries, and pulling out a few ingredients for dinner.

After a while, she peeked through the kitchen doorway to check on him. He was sitting back on his heels, rubbing his elbow absently, clearly, the ache in his arm was getting to him. The fireplace remained cold and unlit.

She sighed. She knew a direct approach wouldn’t do any good, not when his pride was already bruised. Instead, an idea formed in her mind, and she couldn’t help the mischievous grin that crept across her face.

“Um, Buck?” she called, with a note of uncertainty. “Can you come here for a second? There’s something about the water heater I don’t understand.”

His head snapped up, furrowing his brows as he stood and brushed off his hands. “The water heater? What’s wrong with it?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied, feigning confusion as she poked her head out of the kitchen. “I just need you to take a look.”

Without hesitation, he crossed the room. “Alright, let’s see what’s goin’ on.”

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, she turned to face him, with wide, innocent eyes. He barely had time to notice that nothing in the room seemed out of place before she stepped forward, grabbing him by the front of his sweater and gently pushing him back against the counter.

“What the-” he started, gruffly with confusion as his ass hit the edge of the counter.

Her hands slid up to rest on his chest, and her fingers curled into the fabric as she looked up at him with mischief. “Gotcha,” she said softly, with a playful smile tugging at her lips.

He blinked, arching his brow as he realized he’d been ambushed. “This ain’t about the water heater, is it?”

“Not even a little,” she admitted, tilting her head as her grin widened.

His lips twitched, quirking upward despite his earlier sour mood. “You think you’re clever, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, leaning closer, and pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw. “Now, let me make you a deal.”

He arched a brow. “I’m listenin’.”

“You come to sit down and rest that arm of yours,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “and I’ll take care of the fire.”

“You?” he asked, his voice skeptical but not unkind.

“Me,” she replied confidently, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Trust me, Buck. I’ve got this.”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as he weighed his pride against the undeniable ache in his arm. Finally, he exhaled a slow breath and nodded. “Alright,” he muttered gruffly, but his tone was tinged with reluctant gratitude. “But if you need help-”

“I’ll call for my big, strong lumberjack,” she teased, brushing another kiss against his cheek before stepping back toward the fireplace.

The thing was, she’d anticipated this exact scenario. Having grown up with the conveniences of city living, she’d given in to her practical instincts at the general store and bought a couple of ignition discs, just in case. No fuss, no frustration. Just place them under the wood, light them, and voilà.

She crouched near the hearth, arranging the wood carefully before sliding one of the discs into place. With a quick flick of the lighter, the flame caught instantly, spreading evenly and licking at the dry kindling.

Behind her, she heard the sound of a chair scraping softly against the floor. She glanced back to find Bucky standing there, arms crossed, one brow quirked as he watched the flames come to life.

“Couldn’t you, you know… have told me sooner you had those?” he asked, with a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation.

She straightened, dusting her hands off on her jeans as she met his gaze deadpan. “Well, you weren’t exactly in the mood for more interventions earlier.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his lips tugged into a wry, self-aware smile. “Fair point,” he muttered, slumping his shoulders slightly. “I’m sorry... again.”

She stepped closer, brushing her hand lightly against his arm. “It’s okay, Buck. We’re here now. Fire’s going, and we’ll be warm in no time.”

He nodded, easing the tension in his posture as he let out a slow breath. “Alright,” he glanced toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you let me take care of dinner? You’ve already done enough. I’ll check it, stir it, and whatever else it needs.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, cutting her off before she could get the words out.

“And you,” he continued, his tone firm but warm, “are going to take a shower and relax. You’ve done more than enough already.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, her hands resting on her hips. “Bucky, I don’t mind helping finishing-”

“I know you don’t,” he said, stepping closer and dipping his head to meet her gaze. “But I want to do this. You’ve been running around taking care of everything since we got here. Let me handle this, darlin’.”

Finally, she let out a soft sigh, quirking her lips into a faint smile. “Alright, fine,” she relented.

With that, she headed toward the small bathroom, and soon the faint sound of falling water filled the cabin. Bucky moved to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he inspected the bubbling pot on the stove. He stirred it slowly, tasting the broth and deciding in record time it was ready. With a satisfied nod, he turned off the burner, set the lid in place, and leaned against the counter for a moment, letting the warmth from the stove soothe his thoughts.

She wasn’t the only one who got to pull sneaky moves, he decided, and he figured it was about time to even the score.

Quietly, he walked toward the bathroom, his footsteps oh so soft against the wooden floor. As he moved, he peeled off his sweater and undershirt, letting them fall into a pile near the bedroom door. His boots and socks followed, then his jeans, until he was down to nothing but a faint smirk as he reached the bathroom door.

The faint creak of the hinges went unnoticed, her voice carrying softly over the sound of the running water. She was singing along to a tune playing on her phone.

The flimsy shower curtain barely masked her silhouette, and he stepped closer, his shadow looming behind it as he reached for the edge.

She didn’t notice a thing, too lost in her song to hear the quiet rustle of the curtain rings sliding along the rod.

Until he stepped in.

“Bucky!” she squeaked, spinning around as the cool air rushed in with him.

He grinned, utterly unrepentant as he crowded into the small space, warm water splashing over his chest. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save some water. Also, thought you liked surprises, like that little ambush in the kitchen” he murmured, as his hands found her waist, pulling her closer under the spray.

Before she could come up with a witty response, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His touch was unhurried but thorough as his hands started to explore the soft, already-soaped curves of her body with an ease that made her toes curl.

She gasped softly against his mouth, curling her fingers instinctively into his damp hair, pulling him closer. Bucky,” she murmured between kisses, though the protest in her tone was faint.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then down the column of her neck, leaving a warm path against her slick skin.

“This is...” She paused, her words faltering as his hands slid lower, steadying her against the slippery tiles.

“This is me,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly, “making up for being an ass earlier.”

A soft laugh escaped her, while her breasts brushed against him as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. “This how you apologize?”

He smiled, tracing lazy circles against her hip with his thumb. “Depends,” he drawled. “You acceptin’ it?”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a slow, teasing smile as her fingers trailed down his chest. “Hmm,” she mused, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know... You were kind of a grump earlier.”

His smirk faltered just slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Yeah,” he admitted softly, his hand tightening gently on her waist. “I was.”

Her heart softened at his honesty, her teasing tone giving way to something gentler. “You know, all you had to do was talk to me,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly up over his collarbone.

“I know,” he murmured, lowering his gaze for a moment. “I just... get in my head sometimes. Don’t mean to take it out on you.”

She cupped his jaw, guiding his eyes back to hers, brushing her thumb against the faint stubble on his cheek. “I know that, Buck. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself. I’m here. Let me be here, okay?”

He held her gaze and slowly he nodded, leaning into her touch. “Okay,” he whispered, the word heavy with unspoken gratitude.

Her smile widened, and she leaned up to press a soft kiss on his lips. “Good,” she murmured against his mouth.

When she started to pull back, he caught her by the waist, his half smile returning as he lowered his voice to a playful murmur. “Still haven’t said if you’re acceptin’ my apology, though.”

She laughed softly, sliding her hands back up to his shoulders. “I guess I could be persuaded.”

“Persuaded, huh?” he murmured, leaning in until their foreheads brushed, his lips barely a breath away from hers. “Guess I better try harder.”

“That so?” she whispered, her voice trembling with amusement and anticipation.

“Mm-hmm,” he rumbled, sliding his hands up her slick back, pulling her closer under the warm spray. “Wouldn’t want to leave any doubt.” He captured her mouth and fisted her hair with one hand, while the other roamed down her back to squeeze the curve of her ass. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, nipping and sucking at her sensitive skin. “Think I can convince you?” he breathed against her ear, as he started to grind his hardening cock against her stomach.

“Uhuh, for starters you were the one who booked this cabin for us to be alone. That adds some points.” She conceded, biting her lip.

“Let’s see if I can score some more”. With a sudden move, he spun her around, pinning her against the tile wall. The cool surface of the tiles against her nipples contrasted sharply with the heat of his body at her back, and she shivered.

She gasped, feeling his full awakened cock pressing against her, as the water drippled over their bodies. "Such a naughty lumberjack" she teased, arching her back slightly to grind against him. “To think you get all flustered and awkward on a daily basis, and then…”

“...and then I let loose like this” he growled, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding his thick length against her ass. He slid up a hand to flick his thumb over one of her nipples as he leaned in to nip at her neck. “Guess I've got two sides to me, sweetheart”. His free hand slid down to cup her pussy possessively, spreading her open and rubbing his fingers on her wet folds.

“Yes, you do" she moaned, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. "I love both sides of you, Buck. The sweet, grumpy boyfriend, and the passionate lover". She rocked her hips into his touch, soaking his fingers with her slick. "Please” she whined, pressing her rear against his aching cock.

He groaned at her words and bit down gently on her neck. “Patience, darlin’. We’ve got all night” he rasped, even as his fingers continued their torturous dance, circling her clit before dipping inside her. As much as he wanted to bury himself balls-deep in her right now, he also craved the slow burn of building pleasure between them. He knew just how to tease her, how to make her squirm and beg without ever quite reaching the edge. “Look at you, so wet and needy already”, he praised, adding a third finger to stretch her further as he pumped them in and out of her tight heat. “Tell me what you want, sugar”

“Oh god, Bucky please...” she pleaded, riding his hand shamelessly, chasing her release, desperate for friction, for more penetration, for anything that get her closer to-

With a low chuckle, he withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty and aching. He turned off the shower and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her out of the bathroom and towards the creaky bed awaiting them. As he laid her down, a little rougher than intended, he stood at the foot of the mattress, raking over her splayed form with appreciation. A smug smile curved his lips as he watched her squirm restlessly, trying to close the distance between them. “Not yet, sweetheart” he crooned, his voice husky with promise. “First, I need to taste you.”

Her body thrummed with pent-up desire as she gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Her pussy clenched at his words, and a whimper escaped her parted lips. "Please, Bucky" she begged, spreading her thighs wider in silent invitation.

His gaze dropped to her exposed folds, and he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to plunge straight inside her. Instead, he crawled onto the bed and leaned down, dragging his tongue up her slit, to swirl it around her needy clit.

She cried out, and her back arched off the mattress as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more contact. He hummed in approval and repeated the motion, increasing the pressure and speed as he worked her higher. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her still as he feasted on her, alternating between gentle laps and firm sucks on her clit. Just when she teetered on the edge, he pulled back, leaving her panting and desperate. “So close, aren't we, darlin’? With a wicked grin, he positioned himself between her thighs, the broad head of his cock nudging her entrance. Ready to leap?”

“If this is your way to ask for apologies, let me tell you-“ she was interrupted by his thick length spearing into her in one smooth stroke, making her cry out.

He stilled for a moment, savoring the sensation, before slowly withdrawing until just the tip remained inside her. Then, with a powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt once more. This time, he set a relentless pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her entire body. “Take it, sweetheart. Take everything I've got for you,” he groaned, as the headboard collided dangerously against the wooden wall again and again.

"Yes yes yes!!" she screamed as he struck her sweet spot repeatedly, digging her nails into his back as her inner muscles clenched wildly around his thickness. She was so close, the tension inside her building to a fever pitch, until finally, she came undone beneath him, milking his cock as he continued to thrust, prolonging her ecstasy. ”Bucky! Oh god, Bucky!”

“Gonna fill you up, darlin’”, he snarled, snapping his hips faster, going deeper as he neared the edge. “Fuck, you're squeezing me so good. So fucking tight and wet, just for me.” He praised, each word punctuated by a harsh slap of flesh against flesh. “Can't hold back anymore baby, I gotta-”. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let go, emptying himself inside her willing pussy. For several moments, he remained frozen, savoring the sensation, until finally, with a soft groan he collapsed on top of her, his body heavy but comforting as his chest heaved against hers. His damp hair clung to his cheeks, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

After a long quiet stretch, she brushed her lips against his temple, “Hey.”

He grunted in response, low and muffled against her neck.

“How’s your arm?” she asked, brushing her fingers gently over his shoulder, breaking through the haze of contentment.

Bucky didn’t answer right away. He shifted slightly, lifting his head just enough to meet her eyes. His blue gaze was soft, still clouded with lingering post-coital bliss and a flicker of surprise there too, as if he hadn’t expected her to bring it up now.

“’S’ fine,” he said, “Doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

“You sure? No lying to me, handsome.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shifting his weight as he propped himself up on his forearms. “I’m sure,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly. “You’re good at distracting me.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she shook her head. “Bucky,” she said softly, her tone turning serious. “I mean it. If it’s hurting, you need to let me know.”

He sighed, dropping his forehead against hers. “It’s alright,” he promised, his voice more earnest now. “Doesn’t hurt like it did earlier. Just... aches a little.”

“Alright,” she said, brushing her fingers soothingly along his arm. “Because maybe I’ve packed some oil for a sexy massage... just in case you needed it.”

Bucky froze for a beat, raising his brows slightly as he lifted his head to look at her. The surprise in his expression quickly gave way to a bloomed blush. “Oh, yeah?”

She grinned, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. You know, for emergencies.” she added teasingly.

“Emergencies,” he repeated.

She nodded, keeping her expression straight despite the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Of course. A good partner always thinks ahead. But I don’t see you very into it, maybe you don’t wanna-”

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbled promptly, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him so she sprawled across his chest. “I’d be a fool to turn down an offer like that.”

“Smart man,” she teased, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips before slipping out of bed to rummage through her bag. “Stay put, honey.”

He ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t quite hear. When she turned back, bottle in hand, his gaze darted to it briefly before flicking back to her face, with a mix of amusement and lingering flustered disbelief. “Darlin’ you spoil me too much”

“Oh, and I plan to keep doing so. Now, roll over and relax.” She playfully ordered. When he complied, she straddled his waist. Her hands started moving expertly over his skin, spreading the warmed oil on his shoulders and upper back and the tension in his muscles slowly began to melt away as her thumbs pressed into the knots, working them loose with deliberate care.

He let out a low, contented groan, turning his head slightly to rest on his folded arms. “Really, you didn’t have to go all out like this,” he murmured, but even he faintly protested, his voice was thick with relaxation.

“Oh, I definitely did,” she teased lightly, moving her hands to his biceps, carefully avoiding his left elbow.

As her hands continued their soothing path, he silently thanked whatever twist of fate had brought her into his life.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #Lumberjack!Bucky

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enhasntty · 3 days ago

Text

Love on The Line - LHS

pairing: lee heeseung x f!reader summary: At BrightSpark Solutions, your rivalry with the playful Heeseung turns into unexpected sparks during a high-profile project. Between late-night brainstorming, office pranks, and your brother’s matchmaking antics, love starts to bloom in the chaos. warnings: includes kissing, playful flirting, tension, bickering, teasing, playful banter, reader has a younger brother and he calls her "Noona" genre: romance, co-workers to lovers wc: 14.6k

likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

The fluorescent lights of the BrightSpark Solutions conference room buzzed softly as the clock struck 10 a.m. You sat at the large glass table, fingers laced neatly in front of you, a small stack of notes by your side. The morning coffee rush had left the faint scent of vanilla lattes and caramel macchiatos lingering in the air, but you were too focused to notice. Across the table sat Lee Heeseung, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smirk playing on his lips, a complete contrast to your poised demeanor.

The weekly team meeting had always been competitive, but today was different. The stakes were higher. Manager Kim had dropped the bombshell just a day earlier—a high-profile client was considering hiring BrightSpark to handle their next major marketing campaign, and the responsibility of landing the deal would likely fall on whoever impressed him the most during today’s meeting.

You weren’t about to let Heeseung, your biggest rival, take that win.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Manager Kim announced, his authoritative voice cutting through the murmurs. He adjusted his glasses, glancing around the room. “As you all know, this potential client could be a game-changer for us. I want to hear your ideas. Impress me.”

You cleared your throat and stood, clutching the edge of your laptop. “I’d like to go first.”

“Of course you would,” Heeseung quipped, leaning forward slightly, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement.

Ignoring him, you clicked on the first slide of your presentation. “My concept focuses on storytelling. This campaign isn’t just about selling a product; it’s about connecting emotionally with the target audience. I’ve outlined a multi-platform strategy to build a narrative that resonates with them.”

You went on to explain your vision, your voice steady and confident. The room was quiet, except for the soft tapping of someone taking notes. Manager Kim nodded occasionally, his expression unreadable.

As you finished your presentation, you glanced briefly at Heeseung. His smirk was gone, replaced with a raised brow and a look of mild interest.

“Thank you,” Manager Kim said as you sat down. “Heeseung, you’re up.”

Heeseung stood with a casual air, pushing his chair back with his foot and sauntering to the front of the room. He didn’t even bother with notes; he simply pulled up his presentation, hands in his pockets as he addressed the room.

“My approach is simple,” he began, his voice smooth and confident. “People don’t want to feel like they’re being sold something, they want to feel involved. This campaign should be interactive, something that makes the audience feel like they’re part of the brand.”

His presentation was polished, and his ideas were bold and innovative. You hated to admit it, but he had a way of commanding attention effortlessly. The way he gestured, his sharp wit, and his subtle confidence was infuriating how good he was at this.

As he wrapped up, he shot you a quick glance, his smirk back in full force. You looked away, frowning slightly.

“Both excellent ideas,” Manager Kim said, his hands clasped in front of him. “But I think this project requires something a little… extra. That’s why I’m assigning both of you to work on it together.”

Your heart sank.

“What?” you blurted, your voice soft but incredulous.

“Sir, with all due respect,” Heeseung began, trying to hide his own surprise.

Manager Kim raised a hand to cut him off. “You’re both BrightSpark’s best. This client is too important to risk on just one perspective. I want both of you on this.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Heeseung, who looked equally displeased.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Manager Kim added. “I expect results. You’ll have your first joint brainstorming session tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”

Back at your desk, you buried your head in your hands, groaning softly.

“I’m guessing the meeting didn’t go as planned?” Chaewon’s voice came from beside you.

You glanced up to see your best friend leaning against your desk, her auburn hair tied into a short ponytail. She held a cup of coffee in one hand and a knowing smile in the other.

“Manager Kim wants me to work with Heeseung on the campaign,” you muttered.

Chaewon’s eyes widened. “What? Him?” She slid into the empty chair beside you. “This is going to be so entertaining.”

“For who? Because it’s definitely not me,” you grumbled.

“Oh, come on,” Chaewon teased, nudging your shoulder. “It’s not like he’s terrible to look at. And admit it, you secretly like how much attention he gives you.”

Your cheeks flushed. “He does not give me attention. He’s just, ugh, Heeseung!”

Chaewon laughed, clearly enjoying your misery. “You know, the way he argues with you all the time? Classic flirting behavior.”

You shook your head, refusing to let her words get to you. “It’s not flirting. Heeseung just likes to win.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, clearly unconvinced.

Meanwhile, across the office, Heeseung was slouched at his desk, tossing a stress ball in the air. Jay perched on the edge of the desk, watching him with amusement.

“So,” Jay said, dragging out the word, “you’re working with her now?”

“Don’t remind me,” Heeseung muttered, catching the ball and squeezing it in frustration. “She’s so annoyingly perfect all the time.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Perfect? That’s an interesting word choice.”

“You know what I mean,” Heeseung said quickly. “She’s always so calm, so composed. Like nothing ever rattles her. It’s infuriating.”

Jay smirked. “Right. Infuriating. And the fact that you bring her up in every conversation has nothing to do with the fact that you like her?”

Heeseung scoffed. “I don’t like her. I just…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “She’s… competitive. It’s fun to challenge her, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” Jay said, clearly unconvinced.

“Besides,” Heeseung continued, tossing the stress ball back into the air, “she probably hates me.”

Jay laughed. “Hates you? Dude, she wouldn’t argue with you so much if she didn’t care. Trust me, she likes you.”

Heeseung frowned, his mind drifting back to the way you’d looked at him during the meeting—frustrated, sure, but there had been something else in your eyes. He quickly shook the thought away.

As the day dragged on, you tried to focus on your other tasks, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the campaign, and to Heeseung.

How were you supposed to work with him? He was charming, sure, but also insufferable. Every interaction with him felt like a battle, and yet, there was something oddly exhilarating about it.

“Stop overthinking,” you muttered to yourself, pushing the thoughts aside. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and you needed to be prepared.

The next morning, you arrived at the office earlier than usual, determined to set the tone for your first brainstorming session with Heeseung. Armed with neatly typed notes and a freshly brewed coffee, you claimed one of the small meeting rooms. The space was bright and organized, with a whiteboard on one wall and a sleek table in the center. You placed your materials in the exact center of the table, ensuring everything was perfectly aligned.

Ten minutes later, the door swung open, and Heeseung strolled in, late as usual. He carried nothing but a pen tucked behind his ear and an air of casual arrogance that immediately set your teeth on edge.

“You’re late,” you said, glancing pointedly at the clock.

“Fashionably late,” Heeseung replied, flashing you a grin. “You didn’t miss me that much, did you?”

You ignored the comment, gesturing toward the seat across from you. “Let’s get started.”

Instead of sitting where you’d indicated, Heeseung plopped into the chair right next to you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Sitting,” he said innocently. “Why? Do you have assigned seating too, Ms. Control Freak?”

Your jaw tightened. “I am not a control freak.”

“You’re totally a control freak,” he said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “Look at this.” He gestured toward the neatly arranged notes in front of you. “Your papers are color-coded, for crying out loud.”

“It’s called being prepared,” you shot back. “You should try it sometime instead of showing up with nothing but that ridiculous smirk.”

“Ouch.” Heeseung placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his infuriating demeanor, there was something oddly endearing about how easily he got under your skin.

The session quickly turned into a battle of wills.

“We should focus on a digital-first approach,” you argued, jotting ideas onto the whiteboard. “The client’s audience is primarily online, so that’s where we need to meet them.”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, twirling his pen between his fingers. “Sure, but that’s obvious. If we want to stand out, we need to do something unexpected. How about guerrilla marketing? Something bold and interactive.”

“Interactive campaigns are risky,” you countered, turning to face him. “What if it flops? We’d waste the client’s budget.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to take risks. Not that you’d know anything about that, Ms. Play-It-Safe.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “And sometimes you need to be practical, Mr. Half-Baked-Ideas.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other, the air between you crackling with tension. Finally, Heeseung broke the silence with a chuckle.

“You’re really something, you know that?”

“Is that your way of admitting I’m right?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head, still smiling. “Not a chance.”

Just as you were about to fire back a retort, a small voice called out from the doorway.

“Noona!”

Your heart melted instantly as you turned to see your younger brother, Minjun, standing in the doorway with a wide grin. He was clutching a small stuffed bear in one hand, his backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder.

“Minjun?” you said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom had a meeting nearby, so she said I could come see you after school,” he explained, walking into the room. He paused when he noticed Heeseung, his big, curious eyes taking in the stranger.

“Who’s that?” Minjun asked, pointing at Heeseung.

Heeseung smiled, leaning down to Minjun’s level. “I’m Heeseung. And you must be Minjun, right?”

Minjun nodded, looking delighted. “How did you know my name?”

“She talks about you all the time,” Heeseung said, shooting you a sly glance.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” Heeseung said with a laugh.

Before you could argue, Minjun walked up to Heeseung and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Heeseung.”

Heeseung grinned and shook the tiny hand, his usual teasing expression softening. “Nice to meet you too, Minjun.”

To your utter surprise, Minjun didn’t let go of Heeseung’s hand. Instead, he tugged on it, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Do you work with my Noona?”

“I do,” Heeseung said.

“Is she a good worker?” Minjun asked, tilting his head.

Heeseung laughed, glancing at you. “She’s… very good at what she does.”

“See, Minjun?” you said, ruffling his hair. “Even Heeseung can admit I’m good at my job.”

Minjun nodded seriously, still holding onto Heeseung’s hand. “I like you,” he declared.

You blinked in shock. “Minjun!”

“What?” Minjun said innocently. “He’s nice.”

Heeseung chuckled, his ears turning slightly pink. “Thanks, buddy. I like you too.”

Minjun’s unexpected visit completely derailed the rest of the meeting. He insisted on sitting on your lap while you worked, occasionally chiming in with his own “ideas” for the campaign, which mostly involved adding superheroes and dinosaurs.

Heeseung, to his credit, played along, even sketching a quick dinosaur on the corner of your notes to make Minjun laugh. You couldn’t help but notice how gentle he was with your little brother, his usual sarcasm replaced with genuine warmth.

By the time your mom came to pick Minjun up, the entire office was buzzing about your “adorable little brother.”

Later that afternoon, you were tidying up the meeting room when Sunghoon and Yuna walked in.

“So,” Yuna said, leaning against the table with a smirk, “what’s going on with you and Heeseung?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glancing up from your notes.

“Really?” Sunghoon said, raising an eyebrow. “Because the way he was looking at you earlier… pretty suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes. “He wasn’t looking at me.”

“Yes, he was,” Yuna said, grinning. “And don’t even get me started on how cute you two were with Minjun.”

“We weren’t being cute,” you insisted.

“Oh, please,” Sunghoon said. “If you guys aren’t dating yet, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Exactly,” Yuna added. “You’d make such a cute couple.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Fine, fine,” Yuna said, holding up her hands. “But don’t say we didn’t tell you.”

As they left the room, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to their teasing.

Meanwhile, Heeseung was back at his desk, staring at the tiny dinosaur he’d doodled on your notes. He smiled to himself, thinking about Minjun’s wide-eyed innocence and the way you’d softened around your little brother.

Jay walked by and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“No reason,” Heeseung said, quickly flipping the page.

Jay smirked. “Uh-huh. Let me guess… it’s about her?”

“Shut up, Jay,” Heeseung muttered, but the smile lingered on his lips.

The office was eerily quiet at night, the usual hum of conversations and ringing phones replaced by the steady ticking of the wall clock. The overhead lights cast a warm glow on the small meeting room where you and Heeseung were holed up, brainstorming for the campaign. The faint aroma of coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the sound of your pen scratching against paper.

It was well past office hours, but neither of you seemed eager to leave. Or maybe, neither of you wanted to admit defeat by calling it a night first.

“I still think we should focus on the customer journey,” you said, jotting another note onto the whiteboard. “If we can show the client how their product fits seamlessly into their audience’s lives, it’ll be a win.”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he studied your work. “It’s not bad,” he admitted, though his tone made it sound like he was giving a grudging compliment. “But it’s missing something dynamic. What about an experiential element? Something that makes people feel like they’re part of the brand.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You mean like that VR campaign you suggested earlier?”

“Exactly.”

“That was a terrible idea, Heeseung.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re bossy.”

You froze, the pen slipping from your fingers and clattering onto the table. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung grinned, clearly enjoying the way your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed. “I said you’re lucky you’re cute. Why? Did I catch you off guard?”

“N-no,” you stammered, looking away quickly.

“Hmm,” he said, tilting his head. “You’re staring at me a lot tonight, you know. Should I be worried you’re falling for me?”

Your head snapped back toward him, horrified. “I am not!”

The words tumbled out so quickly that they sounded more like a squeak, and Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh. The sound was warm and genuine, not his usual teasing chuckle, and for a moment, it caught you off guard.

“Relax,” he said, still smiling. “I’m just messing with you.”

You frowned, though the heat in your cheeks gave away your flustered state. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice softening. “But you’re fun to mess with.”

The conversation shifted as the brainstorming stalled, both of you leaning back in your chairs and staring at the whiteboard covered in half-formed ideas. The quiet of the room wrapped around you like a cocoon, making the usual tension between you feel strangely less sharp.

“I’ll admit,” Heeseung said after a long pause, “this whole ‘teamwork’ thing isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

You glanced at him, surprised by his sudden honesty. “Really?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the whiteboard. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re still a control freak.”

“Thanks,” you said dryly.

“But…” He hesitated, fiddling with the pen in his hand. “You’re also… good at this. Like, really good. It’s kind of annoying how much you seem to have it all together.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the rare glimpse of vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t, though,” you said quietly. “Have it all together, I mean.”

He finally looked at you, his usual smirk replaced with a softer expression. “You seem like you do. Always calm, always prepared. Meanwhile, I’m just… faking it most of the time.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You? Faking it? You’re one of the smartest people I know, Heeseung. You’re always so confident.”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, well, confidence is easy to fake when everyone expects you to be the best. You don’t have a choice but to keep up the act.”

For a moment, the air between you grew heavier, the weight of his words settling over you. You’d always seen Heeseung as this untouchable force—effortlessly talented, infuriatingly self-assured. But now, you realized there was more to him than the arrogant façade he wore so well.

“I get it,” you said softly. “The pressure to prove yourself. To be perfect all the time. It’s exhausting.”

Heeseung looked at you, something unspoken passing between you in the quiet. “I didn’t think you’d understand,” he admitted.

You offered him a small smile. “I’m not as put-together as you think, Heeseung. I just try hard to look like I am.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, and for the first time, it felt like you were truly seeing each other—not as rivals, but as two people navigating the same struggles.

The moment was broken when Heeseung stood suddenly, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, enough of the deep stuff,” he said, his usual playful tone returning. “I’m grabbing coffee. Want one?”

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Black, please.”

“Got it,” he said, heading for the door.

As soon as he left, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Your heart was still racing from the unexpectedly candid conversation, and you couldn’t shake the image of his soft smile from your mind.

In the hallway, Heeseung passed by Chaewon and Jay, who were chatting near the coffee machine. They stopped when they noticed him, exchanging knowing looks.

“Heeseung again?” Chaewon whispered, glancing toward the meeting room.

Jay grinned. “I’m telling you, something’s definitely going on with those two.”

Chaewon giggled. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

Heeseung cleared his throat loudly, and both of them turned to face him, their expressions suspiciously innocent.

“Can I help you?” Heeseung asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” Chaewon said sweetly, though the glint in her eyes gave her away.

“Just making an observation,” Jay added, smirking.

“Right,” Heeseung said, grabbing two cups of coffee and heading back to the meeting room. He could still hear them whispering behind him, but he chose to ignore it.

When he returned, you looked up from your notes, offering him a small smile as he handed you your coffee.

“Thanks,” you said, your fingers brushing his briefly as you took the cup.

“No problem,” he said, sitting back down across from you. “Ready to get back to it?”

You nodded, though your mind was still reeling from everything that had happened that night.

As the two of you returned to brainstorming, the air between you felt lighter somehow, the sharp edges of your rivalry softened by the quiet understanding you’d found. For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, working with Heeseung wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The office had officially descended into chaos—or at least, that’s how it felt when Heeseung started leaving silly notes on your desk.

The first one appeared on your keyboard: “Are you sure you’re not a control freak? Just checking.”

You stared at the note, dumbfounded. You immediately turned to see if he was lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

Annoyed, you crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash, but the smirk on your face betrayed your amusement.

The next day, another note: “Hope your coffee’s as perfect as your ideas. Oh wait, it’s probably not.”

You groaned. It was getting ridiculous. But rather than letting it slide, you decided it was time to strike back.

When Heeseung stepped out for a meeting, you quietly swapped his coffee cup for a decaf. It was a small thing, but you could already picture the look on his face when he took that first sip.

Heeseung retaliated with little acts of sabotage—stealing your pens, hiding your notebooks, and even changing your desktop wallpaper to a picture of a cat in a business suit.

“Really, Heeseung?” you asked, staring at the screen.

“What?” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s a professional look.”

The office watched the pranks unfold with great interest, enjoying every moment of the harmless back-and-forth. Sunghoon and Yuna had taken it upon themselves to organize bets, placing wagers on who would confess their feelings first.

“Heeseung’s gonna crack first,” Sunghoon declared confidently, sipping his coffee. “You can tell by how often he looks at her.”

“You think?” Yuna raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, he’s pretty good at pretending like he’s not interested. But she’s definitely more than a little soft on him.”

The two of them exchanged glances, and you could hear the faint whispers whenever you and Heeseung passed by. It was a weird mix of fun and embarrassment, and you were trying your best to ignore it.

One afternoon, the tension between you and Heeseung reached a new peak. You were deep into a debate about the best direction for the campaign.

“I’m telling you,” you said, tapping the whiteboard with your marker. “This is a great idea. It’s fresh, it’s bold, and it speaks directly to the target audience.”

“Fresh, bold, and completely impractical,” Heeseung shot back, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re missing the whole point. This campaign needs to stand out. Not be a snooze fest.”

“It’s not a snooze fest!” you argued, frustration bubbling up. “It’s grounded in reality!”

Heeseung’s lips twitched into a teasing grin. “Reality’s boring.”

The banter between you both had always been playful, but this time, something was different. The words you exchanged seemed to hang in the air longer, and the intensity of your rivalry felt almost… charged.

You were so focused on arguing that you didn’t notice the loose cord at your feet until it was too late.

One second, you were standing tall, passionately defending your idea. The next, your foot caught on the cord, sending you tumbling forward.

“Heeseung!”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you felt yourself falling, bracing for impact. But before you could hit the floor, a pair of hands shot out and caught you by the waist.

Heeseung’s grip on you was firm, but his breath was shallow as he steadied you. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

You blinked up at him, suddenly aware of how close you were. His face was inches away, his breath mingling with yours. His dark eyes were wide, caught off guard by the accidental intimacy.

“I… uh… you okay?” he asked, his voice sounding oddly strained.

“Yeah… I think so.” You felt your face heat up, but you couldn’t look away. Heeseung’s hands were still on your waist, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

Neither of you seemed to know what to do next. It was as though the world had slowed down for that brief, accidental moment, leaving both of you caught between the lines of rivalry and something else—something neither of you were ready to confront.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Heeseung cleared his throat and gently let go of you.

“Guess I should watch where I’m going,” you said quickly, stepping back and trying to act like nothing happened.

“Yeah, or maybe I should’ve made sure you didn’t trip over that stupid cord,” Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair. His usual teasing grin had faltered slightly, replaced by an uncertain expression.

You weren’t sure what to make of it. The moment felt too real.

“So…” you said awkwardly, clearing your throat. “About the campaign.”

Heeseung nodded, his usual smirk creeping back. “Right, back to work. I’m still not convinced by your idea, though.”

“Of course you’re not,” you said, trying to play it cool, though your heart was still racing.

But despite the playful banter, neither of you could fully shake the electricity in the air. It was like something had shifted between you, even if neither of you wanted to admit it.

As the day wore on, the office chatter grew louder.

Chaewon stopped by your desk, raising an eyebrow as she watched you and Heeseung from the corner of her eye.

“Is it just me, or did something happen between you two?” she asked, a sly grin on her face.

“Nothing happened,” you said quickly, too quickly.

Chaewon smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

Jay appeared beside her, and the two exchanged a knowing look.

“So, who’s gonna confess first?” Jay asked, crossing his arms.

You shot him a glare. “We’re not confessing anything.”

But as you glanced toward Heeseung, who was now looking at you with an unreadable expression, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, the lines between rivalry and something more were starting to blur.

The conference room was filled with the low hum of conversation as your team prepped for the big client presentation. BrightSpark Solutions had landed a high-profile meeting with a new client—a startup that had just secured major funding and was looking to revamp its image. This could be a game-changer for the agency, and the pressure was on.

You were ready, dressed in your best professional attire, your notes organized and the presentation slides perfect. But as you made final adjustments to the projector, you couldn’t help but notice the charming man who had just walked in. His name was Eunwoo, the CEO of the new client, and his bright smile seemed to light up the room.

Eunwoo was tall, with well-groomed dark hair and a tailored suit that fit him perfectly. He was charismatic in that way that made everyone in the room immediately pay attention, but he seemed particularly fixated on you. He flashed you a warm smile as you caught his eye, and you offered a polite one back, keeping things professional.

“Shall we get started?” you asked, gesturing to the presentation board.

“Oh, I’m sure this will be impressive,” Eunwoo said smoothly, his voice rich with charm. “But I’m more interested in getting to know you, personally. What do you think of the future of marketing?”

Your eyebrows shot up, caught off guard by his directness. “Well, I think it’s about understanding people more deeply. It’s not just about selling a product, but creating a connection with your audience.”

Eunwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering just a little too long. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s refreshing to meet someone with such a deep understanding of what really matters. Maybe you could give me a personal tour of your thoughts sometime.”

The remark was playful, almost flirtatious, and it made you feel a little uncomfortable, though you kept your composure. You had dealt with flirtations before in this line of work, but something about Eunwoo’s attention made you uneasy—especially when you glanced over at Heeseung.

His posture had stiffened, and there was a small crease between his brows as he watched Eunwoo and you interact. Heeseung wasn’t usually the type to be visibly bothered by anything, but now he looked unusually tense.

You turned your attention back to the presentation, trying to focus. “Well, let’s get started,” you said, moving ahead with the first slide.

The meeting proceeded without further incident, but the entire time, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Eunwoo was paying you an unusual amount of attention. And each time he directed a compliment your way, you noticed Heeseung’s gaze shifting between you and the CEO, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

After the meeting, the team gathered in the break room to debrief.

“Great job, everyone,” Manager Kim said, though his attention was clearly focused on the next steps. “We’ll know the client’s decision soon. For now, enjoy the break.”

The team scattered, but you found yourself cornered at the coffee machine by none other than Heeseung, who had been unusually quiet throughout the meeting.

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up? You’ve barely said a word since the presentation.”

Heeseung’s expression was neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “Nothing,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the cup in his hands.

You shrugged, not sensing anything wrong. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Heeseung shot back, though his tone was a little sharper than usual.

You frowned. “Okay, then. Whatever you say.”

You poured yourself a coffee, turning to leave the break room, but Heeseung’s voice stopped you.

“I don’t get it,” he said, almost to himself. “Why was he so… interested in you?”

You turned back, confused. “Eunwoo? He’s just being friendly. It’s part of the job. We’re all supposed to impress the client.”

Heeseung shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No, it’s more than that. He was flirting with you.”

You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “What? No, he wasn’t.”

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed. “He was. He was way too interested in you.”

You laughed nervously, unsure of how to react to the sudden tension. “He’s just a charismatic guy, Heeseung. You know, it’s part of his charm.”

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on you with a strange intensity. There was something about the way he was looking at you—something almost… possessive.

“Well, he’s got nothing on me,” Heeseung muttered, almost under his breath.

You raised your eyebrows, still not fully understanding the shift in his demeanor. “What are you talking about?”

But Heeseung didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his own coffee, took a deep sip, and started walking back toward his desk without another word.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Every time you tried to approach Heeseung, he was either too busy with work or too lost in his thoughts to acknowledge you. It was as if the playful, teasing side of him had disappeared completely, replaced by an almost… cold detachment.

Chaewon, noticing the change in Heeseung’s behavior, sidled up to you during lunch. “Something’s off with him today,” she remarked, glancing over at Heeseung, who was absorbed in his laptop screen.

“I know, right? He’s been weird since the meeting,” you replied, picking at your salad absentmindedly.

“Do you think… he’s jealous?” Chaewon asked, her voice lowered as if she were sharing a secret.

“Jealous? No way. Heeseung’s not like that,” you scoffed.

But even as you said it, a small part of you couldn’t deny the possibility. The way Heeseung had reacted to Eunwoo’s attention, the way he seemed to care more than he let on—it all felt different.

Chaewon raised an eyebrow. “I’m just saying, it’s a possibility. I mean, who else would have the nerve to act like that if not someone who’s a little jealous?”

You sighed, trying to brush off her teasing. “Please, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Chaewon didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a grin. “I’m just saying, I can see it.”

Later that day, you caught Heeseung sneaking glances at you from across the office. Every time you looked up, his eyes would flicker away, as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. It was almost like he was… waiting for you to make the first move.

It didn’t make sense. Why would Heeseung be acting like this? He’d always been competitive, sure, but this was different. He was acting like you belonged to him in some way—and the strangest part was, you couldn’t figure out if you liked it.

As the day wound down and the office began to empty out, you found yourself standing at your desk, collecting your things for the evening. Heeseung was still there, sitting at his desk, his focus seemingly entirely on his laptop.

Just as you were about to leave, he stood up abruptly.

“I’m not gonna let him get away with it,” he muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear.

You blinked, puzzled. “What?”

Heeseung looked up at you, his eyes intense. “I’m not gonna let that CEO keep flirting with you. You’re my—”

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing what he was about to say. His expression changed quickly, and he cleared his throat, looking away. “Never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, he walked out of the office, leaving you standing there, your heart racing from the unexpected exchange.

What had just happened? Was Heeseung… jealous?

It had been an unusually quiet morning at BrightSpark Solutions. Heeseung wasn’t teasing you, no pranks had been played, and he hadn’t made a single sarcastic comment. For some reason, that unsettled you more than the usual chaos.

You were at your desk, editing a campaign brief when a familiar, high-pitched voice broke through the office noise.

“Noona!”

Your head snapped up just as Minjun came barreling toward you, his backpack bouncing as he ran. His cheeks were flushed from the cold air outside, and his smile stretched from ear to ear.

“Minjun!” you exclaimed, standing up just in time to catch him in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Chaewon-Noona said I could visit since school got out early,” Minjun chirped, his innocent eyes sparkling. “I missed you!”

Chaewon peeked her head around the corner, grinning. “He begged me. I couldn’t say no.”

You smiled warmly, ruffling Minjun’s hair. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, but you know the rules, no causing trouble, okay?”

Minjun nodded obediently before turning to look around the office, his eyes wide with curiosity. That’s when he spotted Heeseung, who was walking toward your desk with a coffee in one hand and a small bag of snacks in the other.

“Is that for me?” you asked, surprised, as Heeseung placed the items on your desk without a word.

“Don’t read too much into it,” he said casually, though there was a flicker of something softer in his expression. “You skipped breakfast again, didn’t you?”

Before you could respond, Minjun piped up, his voice loud and cheerful. “Is he your boyfriend, Noona?”

The office went dead silent.

You froze, your cheeks flushing instantly. “Minjun, what are you talking about?”

Minjun tilted his head innocently, pointing at the snacks. “He brought you food! That’s what boyfriends do!”

The room erupted into laughter, and you could feel every pair of eyes on you.

Heeseung, however, didn’t miss a beat. He crouched down to Minjun’s level, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You caught me,” he said, winking. “I’m her boyfriend. What gave it away?”

Your jaw dropped. “Heeseung!”

“What?” He straightened up, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “The kid’s got great instincts.”

Minjun clapped his hands together, delighted. “I knew it! You’re a good boyfriend, hyung.”

You buried your face in your hands, mortified. “Minjun, he’s not-”

“Now, now,” Heeseung interrupted, grinning. “Let the kid believe what he wants. It’s harmless.”

Harmless? Your heart was racing, and your face felt like it was on fire. Harmless was the last word you’d use to describe this situation, especially when you could hear Chaewon and Jay whispering behind you.

The rest of the day was a blur. Word spread quickly, and before long, your supposed “relationship” with Heeseung became the talk of the office. Everywhere you went, coworkers gave you knowing smiles, and Sunghoon even had the audacity to ask if wedding bells were in your future.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Chaewon said, trying to stifle her laughter. “Honestly, it’s kind of cute.”

“It’s not cute,” you grumbled, glaring at her.

Chaewon shrugged, clearly unbothered. “If you ask me, Heeseung didn’t seem too bothered by it.”

That comment stayed with you as the day went on. Was Heeseung really unbothered, or was he just better at hiding his feelings than you were?

By the time the workday ended, Minjun had already declared the office his second home. He’d charmed everyone, from the interns to Manager Kim, and even managed to coax a laugh out of Yuna, who rarely broke her professional demeanor.

When it was time to leave, Heeseung surprised you by offering to walk you and Minjun home.

“It’s getting late,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. “And I wouldn’t want Minjun to get tired on the way.”

You hesitated for a moment but ultimately agreed. Minjun was practically bouncing with excitement, holding Heeseung’s hand as you made your way out of the office.

The walk home was surprisingly peaceful. The streets were quieter than usual, and the cool evening air felt refreshing after a long day.

Minjun was full of energy, peppering Heeseung with questions about his job, his favorite foods, and whether or not he liked superheroes.

“I’m more of a villain guy,” Heeseung said with a smirk, causing Minjun to gasp dramatically.

“You can’t be a villain, Hyung! Noona needs a hero!”

Heeseung laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made your heartache in the best way.

“Alright, fine,” he said, ruffling Minjun’s hair. “I’ll be the hero, just for you and your Noona.”

You glanced at him, surprised by how naturally kind he was to Minjun. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen this side of him, but it still caught you off guard. Beneath all the teasing and arrogance, there was a softness to Heeseung that he didn’t let many people see.

When you finally reached your apartment, Minjun was yawning, his earlier excitement fading into sleepy contentment.

“Thanks for walking us home,” you said, unlocking the door.

“No problem,” Heeseung replied, his hands in his pockets. He glanced down at Minjun, who was leaning against your side. “Get some rest, kiddo. Being a matchmaker must be exhausting.”

Minjun giggled, his voice muffled by your coat. “Goodnight, hyung.”

As you ushered Minjun inside, you turned back to Heeseung one last time.

“Goodnight,” you said softly.

Heeseung smiled, his usual smirk replaced by something softer. “Goodnight, control freak.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. As you closed the door, you realized something had shifted between you and Heeseung.

It wasn’t just rivalry anymore. It was something more, something you weren’t quite ready to name—but something you knew you wouldn’t be able to ignore.

The client meeting had gone surprisingly well. Even Heeseung, who usually found something to nitpick, seemed impressed. You were feeling pretty good about yourself as the two of you left the client’s office building and stepped out onto the busy downtown street.

But as you glanced up at the darkening sky, your optimism began to fade. The once-pleasant afternoon had given way to ominous clouds, and the air was heavy with the promise of rain.

“We should hurry,” you said, quickening your pace.

Heeseung, walking leisurely beside you, shoved his hands into his pockets. “Relax, it’s just a little rain. You’re acting like it’s a hurricane.”

You shot him a look. “You say that now, but I’ll be the one stuck listening to you complain when your shoes get wet.”

Heeseung smirked, clearly unbothered. “I don’t complain. I just… make insightful observations.”

Before you could respond, the first drops of rain began to fall, quickly escalating into a full-blown downpour. People on the street scrambled for cover, and you grabbed Heeseung’s arm, dragging him toward the nearest coffee shop.

The small café was cozy and crowded, filled with people seeking refuge from the rain. You managed to snag a table by the window, the two of you sitting across from each other as the rain pounded against the glass.

“Great. Now we’re stuck,” you muttered, shaking the water off your jacket.

“Could be worse,” Heeseung said, leaning back in his chair. “At least we have coffee.”

You sighed, brushing your damp hair out of your face. Heeseung had already ordered for both of you—your usual latte and his preferred black coffee—and was now watching you with an amused expression.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Nothing,” he said, though his grin suggested otherwise. “You just look very… flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” you said quickly, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because you’ve been glaring at me since we sat down.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your latte to avoid responding. The truth was, being stuck with Heeseung in such close quarters was throwing you off more than you cared to admit.

By the time the rain finally eased up, it was nearly evening, and the streets were still slick with water.

“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “We’ll miss the last bus if we wait any longer.”

Heeseung followed you outside, where the rain had slowed to a light drizzle. You were about to start walking when he reached into his bag and pulled out an umbrella.

“Since when do you carry an umbrella?” you asked, genuinely surprised.

Heeseung shrugged, opening the umbrella with a practiced motion. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

The umbrella was just big enough for two people, and you hesitated for a moment before stepping under it. Heeseung tilted it slightly to make sure you were fully covered, and you tried to ignore the way your shoulders brushed as you began walking.

The streets were quiet, the sound of rain and your footsteps the only noise. You were both silent at first, but the tension between you was palpable.

“Why are you so quiet?” Heeseung finally asked, glancing at you.

“I’m just tired,” you replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. Being this close to him was making it hard to think straight.

Heeseung chuckled softly. “Tired, huh? Or are you still mad about earlier?”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“At the meeting,” he said, his tone light but teasing. “You got all defensive when I said your presentation was ‘too polished.’”

You stopped walking, turning to face him. “Because you always have to find something to criticize. Why can’t you just admit when I do a good job?”

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just joking—”

“That’s the problem!” you interrupted, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re always joking. You never take anything seriously.”

Heeseung’s grip on the umbrella tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to argue. But then his expression softened, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“I take you seriously, okay?” he said, his voice quieter than before.

You stared at him, stunned into silence.

“I take you seriously,” he repeated, his gaze meeting yours. “Probably more than anyone else.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you didn’t know how to respond. Before you could say anything, Heeseung cleared his throat and looked away, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Anyway,” he said, shifting the umbrella slightly, “let’s get going before you catch a cold.”

The rest of the walk was quiet, but the atmosphere between you had changed. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Heeseung had said, the sincerity in his voice lingering in your mind.

When you finally reached the bus station, Heeseung held the umbrella over you until you were safely under the awning.

“Thanks,” you said softly, your heart still racing.

Heeseung nodded, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Don’t get used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face betrayed you. As you boarded the bus, you couldn’t help but glance back at him one last time, wondering if there was more to Heeseung than you’d ever realized.

The morning started as it always did—with a new wave of gossip.

“Did you hear? Apparently, they walked home together last night.”

“Are they actually dating? Or is it just Heeseung being… Heeseung?”

You sighed as you overheard the whispers from the interns near the coffee machine. It had been like this for days, ever since Minjun’s “boyfriend” declaration. No matter how many times you denied it, the rumor mill at BrightSpark Solutions only seemed to churn faster.

“Heeseung brought her coffee again this morning,” Yuna muttered to Sunghoon, who was pouring sugar into his tea. “That’s not normal coworker behavior, right?”

“Definitely not,” Sunghoon replied, grinning. “I’m putting my money on him confessing first.”

You tried to tune them out as you made your way to your desk, but it was impossible to ignore the smug look on Chaewon’s face as she leaned over your cubicle.

“So,” she began, resting her chin on her hands, “how’s the office power couple doing today?”

“Chaewon,” you groaned, dropping your bag onto your chair. “Please stop.”

She smirked, undeterred. “I’m just saying, you two have been spending a lot of time together lately. And the way he looks at you—”

“There’s nothing going on,” you said firmly, though your cheeks betrayed you by flushing pink.

Chaewon raised an eyebrow. “Sure there isn’t. But for the record, I think you two would be adorable together.”

Before you could respond, Heeseung strolled into the office, his usual confident stride turning more heads than you cared to admit. He flashed you a lazy grin as he walked by, and you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in your laptop.

Chaewon snickered. “Yup. Totally nothing going on.”

By lunchtime, the gossip had reached ridiculous levels. Even Manager Kim, who was usually oblivious to office drama, commented on how “well you and Heeseung have been working together lately.”

But the real chaos began when Chaewon and Jay decided to intervene.

“We need to speed this up,” Jay whispered as the two of them huddled near the printer.

Chaewon nodded, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Agreed. It’s painfully obvious they like each other, but neither of them is going to make the first move.”

Jay grinned. “I have an idea. How do you feel about supply rooms?”

You were in the middle of reviewing campaign drafts when Chaewon appeared beside your desk, looking unusually serious.

“Hey, can you help me grab some supplies from the storage room?” she asked.

You frowned. “What do you need? I can grab it for you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she insisted, waving her hand. “I just need an extra pair of hands. It’ll only take a minute.”

Reluctantly, you followed her to the supply room, which was tucked away in a quiet corner of the office. When you stepped inside, the shelves were packed with office supplies, and the faint smell of cardboard lingered in the air.

“What exactly are we looking for?” you asked, glancing around.

“Uh, paper clips,” Chaewon said vaguely.

You turned to ask her where they were, only to find her standing in the doorway with a sly smile.

“Chaewon, what are you—”

Before you could finish, she shut the door and turned the lock.

“Good luck!” she called through the door, her laughter echoing as she walked away.

“Chaewon!” you shouted, jiggling the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

Just then, you heard footsteps behind you, and you turned to see Heeseung standing in the middle of the room, holding a box of printer paper.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

You groaned, leaning your forehead against the door. “Chaewon locked us in.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Locked us in? Why?”

“Because she’s Chaewon,” you muttered. “And because everyone in this office has apparently decided that we’re their new favorite soap opera.”

Heeseung chuckled, setting the box down on a nearby shelf. “I mean, can you blame them? We are pretty entertaining.”

You shot him a glare, but he just smirked, clearly enjoying your frustration.

For the next fifteen minutes, the two of you tried everything to get the door open, from picking the lock with a paperclip—to calling Jay, who conveniently “couldn’t hear his phone.”

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, sitting down on a crate.

“Agreed,” Heeseung said, leaning against the wall. “But hey, at least it’s not the worst place to be stuck. We’ve got snacks.”

You followed his gaze to a shelf stocked with granola bars and bottled water, and you couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself.

“Glad to see you’re making the best of this,” you said dryly.

Heeseung shrugged, his expression softening. “You should try it sometime. Not everything has to be a big deal, you know.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond. The truth was, you were starting to envy Heeseung’s ability to stay so relaxed in any situation.

As the minutes ticked by, the silence between you grew heavier. You found yourself stealing glances at Heeseung, wondering—against your better judgment, what he was thinking.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said, tilting his head. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” you lied, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, you can tell me. We’re stuck here anyway.”

You hesitated, debating whether or not to say anything. But the weight of the gossip, the teasing, and your own swirling feelings finally got to you.

“Do you ever… wonder if people are right about us?” you asked softly, not meeting his gaze.

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Right about what?”

“About… us,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and you immediately regretted bringing it up.

But then he smiled, his expression unusually sincere. “Well, I can’t speak for them,” he said, “but I know what I think.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. “And what do you think?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but just then, the door creaked open, and Jay’s grinning face appeared.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jay said, clearly not sorry at all. “But Chaewon said I had to let you out eventually.”

You quickly stood up, brushing past Jay without a word. Heeseung followed behind you, his usual smirk firmly back in place.

“Let’s call this a draw,” he said, leaning down so only you could hear. “For now.”

The office was eerily quiet at night. Most of your coworkers had already left, the usual hum of conversation and clatter of keyboards replaced by the steady ticking of the wall clock.

You glanced at the time—9:14 PM.

“Remind me why we’re still here,” you mumbled, rubbing your tired eyes.

Heeseung, sitting across from you at the shared desk, looked up from his laptop with a mischievous grin. “Because we’re perfectionists. Or at least you are. I’m just here for moral support.”

You shot him a look. “Moral support? You’ve done nothing but steal my snacks and make fun of my color schemes.”

“I call it constructive criticism,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Despite his teasing, Heeseung had actually been helpful tonight. The campaign you were working on was one of the biggest projects of your career, and his sharp eye for detail had saved you from more than one embarrassing mistake.

Still, working late with him came with its challenges—namely, how effortlessly he managed to get under your skin.

The two of you had been at it for hours, but the atmosphere had shifted as the night wore on. The usual bickering gave way to something quieter, more comfortable. At some point, Heeseung had moved his chair closer to yours, and now you were sitting so close that your elbows brushed whenever you reached for something on the desk.

“Okay, hear me out,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence. “What if we scrap the entire tagline and go with something simpler? Like, ‘Bold ideas for a bold future.’”

You looked at him skeptically. “That’s… not terrible. But it sounds like every other campaign ever made.”

Heeseung feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. Remind me never to share my brilliant ideas with you again.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll take your ideas seriously when you take mine seriously.”

“I do take you seriously,” he said, his tone softening. “I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you found yourself meeting his gaze. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

“Anyway,” Heeseung said after a beat, breaking the silence. “How’s this for an alternative tagline: ‘BrightSpark—lighting up your tomorrow’?”

You groaned. “That’s even worse. Were you trying to make it sound like a toothpaste ad?”

Heeseung burst out laughing, and you couldn’t help but join in. The sound of your laughter filled the empty office, and for a moment, you forgot about the project, the deadlines, and everything else.

As the laughter died down, you realized how close Heeseung had leaned toward you. His elbow rested on the desk, his chin propped on his hand, and his eyes were fixed on yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You froze, suddenly hyperaware of the small space between you. The playful teasing in his expression had been replaced by something else—something that made your stomach flutter.

“Heeseung,” you said softly, your voice barely audible.

He tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “What?”

“I—” You didn’t know what you were going to say, and before you could figure it out, the moment was interrupted by the sound of the office door opening.

“Hey, are you guys still—oh.”

You turned to see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, a folder in his hand and a curious look on his face.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, though the smirk tugging at his lips suggested he already knew the answer.

“No,” you said quickly, scooting your chair back. “We were just… working.”

“Right,” Sunghoon said, clearly unconvinced. He walked over to your desk and set the folder down. “Manager Kim wanted me to drop this off. Something about final approvals.”

“Thanks,” Heeseung said, his tone casual, though you noticed he avoided looking at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon lingered for a moment, glancing between the two of you before finally walking away.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Well, that was awkward,” you muttered, avoiding Heeseung’s gaze.

He chuckled softly. “It’s Sunghoon. Everything he does is awkward.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. But the charged moment from earlier still lingered in the back of your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

The two of you worked in relative silence for the next hour, though the atmosphere felt different. Every time Heeseung leaned closer to point something out on your laptop screen, your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t stop wondering if he had felt the same tension as you had earlier.

By the time you finally wrapped up for the night, it was nearly midnight.

“Ready to call it a night?” Heeseung asked, stretching his arms over his head.

“Definitely,” you said, packing up your things.

As you walked out of the office together, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy office.

“Thanks for sticking around tonight,” you said as you reached the subway station. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Heeseung smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Anytime. But don’t get used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing tone in his voice made you smile.

As you went on the bus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you and Heeseung had shifted—and that it was only a matter of time before things changed even more.

The evening started like any other, with you rushing home after work, exhausted but relieved to finally relax. Minjun had been unusually quiet during dinner prep, which should have been your first clue that something was up.

“Minjun,” you called from the kitchen, where you were chopping vegetables. “Can you set the table? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Okay!” he chirped from the living room.

It wasn’t until the doorbell rang that you realized he was up to something. You frowned, wiping your hands on a towel. “Were we expecting someone?”

Minjun poked his head around the corner, grinning mischievously. “I might’ve invited someone over.”

Your heart sank. Minjun had a habit of inviting his friends over at the worst possible times—like the time he brought three classmates home right before your big presentation, leaving you scrambling to entertain them.

“Who did you invite?” you asked warily.

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang again, and Minjun darted to open it.

“Hi, Heeseung!” Minjun’s excited voice echoed through the apartment.

Your stomach dropped.

“Minjun!” you hissed, rushing to the door just in time to see Heeseung step inside, a bemused smile on his face.

“Hope I’m not intruding,” Heeseung said, holding up a bag of takeout desserts. “Your little brother insisted I come over for dinner. Said you needed some company.”

You glared at Minjun, who was bouncing on his toes like he’d just pulled off the prank of the century. “Minjun, you can’t just invite people over without telling me!”

“But you’re always talking about him,” Minjun said innocently. “And he brought cake!”

Heeseung laughed, clearly amused by the situation. “I promise I didn’t mean to crash your dinner. I can leave if you want.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, it’s fine. You’re here now. Might as well stay.”

Dinner was… chaotic, to say the least.

Minjun, thrilled to have Heeseung as a guest, spent the entire meal peppering him with questions.

“So, Heeseung,” Minjun began, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, “do you like my Noona?”

You nearly choked on your rice. “Minjun!”

“What?” Minjun said, blinking innocently. “He’s always nice to you. And he brings you coffee. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”

“Minjun, that’s enough,” you said firmly, your cheeks burning.

Heeseung, however, took it in stride. He leaned back in his chair, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, your Noona’s great. Who wouldn’t like her?”

Your eyes widened, and Minjun gasped dramatically. “So you do like her!”

“Minjun!” you exclaimed, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

Heeseung laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “I didn’t say that. But for the record, your Noona is pretty amazing.”

You stared at him, too flustered to respond. Minjun, meanwhile, was grinning like he’d just solved the mystery of the century.

As the meal went on, Minjun’s questions only got worse.

“When are you getting married?”

“Minjun!”

“How many kids do you want?”

“MINJUN!”

Despite your mortification, Heeseung handled it like a pro. He answered Minjun’s questions with good-natured humor, all while sneaking in compliments that made your heart race.

“She’d make an amazing partner,” he said at one point, glancing at you with a soft smile. “She’s kind, hardworking, and always looking out for the people she cares about.”

You froze, unsure how to respond. Was he just playing along for Minjun’s sake, or did he actually mean it?

After dinner, Minjun insisted on showing Heeseung his favorite video game, leaving you to clean up in the kitchen. You were halfway through washing the dishes when Heeseung appeared beside you, rolling up his sleeves.

“You don’t have to help,” you said, glancing at him.

He shrugged, grabbing a dish towel. “I want to. Plus, it’s the least I can do after crashing your dinner.”

You smiled despite yourself. “This was all Minjun’s idea, you know.”

“I figured,” he said, laughing. “The kid’s a natural matchmaker.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”

For a while, the two of you worked in comfortable silence, the sound of running water and clinking dishes filling the room. But as the last plate was dried, Heeseung spoke, his voice softer than usual.

“You know,” he began, folding the dish towel and setting it aside, “Minjun’s not wrong about everything he said tonight.”

You froze your hands stilling over the sink. “What do you mean?”

He leaned against the counter, his gaze steady and unwavering. “I mean, he’s right about you being amazing. And about me liking you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned to face him. “Heeseung, I—”

“I’m not saying it to make you uncomfortable,” he added quickly, his usual playful grin replaced with something more sincere. “I just… I feel like I’ve been dancing around it for too long, and Minjun kind of gave me the push I needed. You don’t have to say anything, but I wanted you to know.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. Heeseung liked you? Heeseung—the same person who teased you relentlessly and called you a control freak—actually liked you?

“I… don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it. And, for the record, I think Minjun would make a great best man someday.”

Your cheeks burned, but before you could respond, Minjun bounded into the kitchen, holding a controller.

“Heeseung, come play with me! I need someone on my team!”

Heeseung straightened up, giving you one last smile before turning to Minjun. “Alright, little man. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As the two of them disappeared into the living room, you leaned against the counter, your heart pounding.

Heeseung liked you.

The morning started like any other at BrightSpark Solutions: the hum of conversations, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards, and the faint aroma of coffee wafting through the air. But for you, there was a noticeable difference—Heeseung.

Ever since his unexpected confession at your apartment, things between the two of you had been different. Not awkward, surprisingly, but more… charged. His teasing had taken on a softer edge, and you found yourself smiling more often, even when he was being his usual annoying self.

Today, he was seated at the desk beside yours, balancing a pen on his finger while waiting for his files to load.

“Hey,” he said, leaning slightly toward you, the pen rolling off his hand. “Do you think we should pitch the ‘Bold Futures’ tagline today? Or do you want to play it safe with the original idea?”

You barely glanced up from your laptop. “The ‘Bold Futures’ tagline is a death sentence. Stick with the original.”

He grinned, resting his chin on his palm. “You’re so confident. It’s honestly intimidating sometimes.”

You arched an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” he said smoothly. “It’s actually kind of hot.”

Your breath hitched, and you quickly looked away, your face warming. “Heeseung!”

“What?” he said, laughing softly. “Am I wrong?”

Before you could respond, he casually reached over and tugged the pen from your hand.

“Hey!” you said, glaring at him.

“You’ve been clicking this for the past five minutes,” he said, spinning the pen between his fingers. “It’s distracting.”

“It’s my pen,” you shot back, reaching for it.

Heeseung smirked, holding it out of your reach. “Not anymore.”

You stood up, trying to grab it, but he quickly leaned back, holding the pen over his head.

“Lee Heeseung!” you said, half-laughing, half-annoyed.

“What’s the magic word?” he teased, his grin widening.

“Give. It. Back.”

“Close, but no cigar,” he said, enjoying himself far too much.

You reached for the pen again, leaning across the desk, and your fingers brushed against his hand just as your coworker Sunghoon let out an exaggerated cough.

You froze.

Slowly, you turned to see half the office staring at you, some with raised eyebrows, others barely suppressing laughter.

The moment was short-lived, though, because Manager Kim stepped out of his office, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you and Heeseung.

“Lee, Y/N,” he called, his tone stern.

You and Heeseung straightened up immediately, the playful atmosphere evaporating.

“Could you come to my office for a moment?”

“Yes, sir,” you both said in unison, shooting each other a look as you followed him into the glass-walled room.

Manager Kim folded his arms, leaning back against his desk. “I’ve been watching you two lately,” he began, his tone measured but firm. “You seem… very comfortable with each other.”

Your stomach sank.

“I don’t mind a little camaraderie among coworkers,” he continued. “But this project is too important to risk any distractions. So, from now on, you’ll be working on separate tasks. Understood?”

Your eyes widened. “Separate tasks?”

He nodded. “Y/N, you’ll focus on the visuals and presentation materials. Heeseung, you’ll handle the copy and client communication. Report directly to me if you need clarification.”

“But-” you started to protest, only to be cut off by Heeseung.

“Understood, sir,” he said smoothly, his expression neutral.

You glanced at him, surprised by his calm acceptance. Manager Kim dismissed you both, and as you walked back to your desks, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration.

The next few days felt… wrong.

You missed the easy banter and playful arguments that had made working with Heeseung bearable—even fun. Without him by your side, the office felt dull, the silence almost oppressive.

Every time you glanced over at his desk, you found him hunched over his laptop, headphones in, completely focused on his work. He didn’t even glance your way, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

Chaewon, ever observant, noticed your foul mood almost immediately.

“Okay, spill,” she said, sitting on the edge of your desk during lunch. “Why do you look like someone stole your puppy?”

You sighed, poking at your salad with a fork. “It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced. “Does this ‘nothing’ have anything to do with Heeseung?”

You looked up sharply, and she smirked. “Thought so. What happened?”

“Manager Kim split us up,” you admitted. “We’re working on separate tasks now.”

“And you’re sad because…?”

“I’m not sad,” you said quickly, but Chaewon raised an eyebrow.

“You miss him,” she said matter-of-factly. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

You opened your mouth to protest but closed it again, realizing she was right.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the office, Jay was having a very similar conversation with Heeseung.

“You’ve been weirdly quiet lately,” Jay said, leaning back in his chair. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Heeseung said, typing furiously on his keyboard.

Jay snorted. “Right. And I’m the CEO of BrightSpark. Come on, man, talk to me. Is this about Y/N?”

Heeseung paused, his fingers hovering over the keys. “Manager Kim split us up.”

“And?”

“And it’s… annoying,” Heeseung admitted. “I’m used to working with her. Now it feels like something’s missing.”

Jay chuckled. “Look, just hang in there. Knowing Y/N, she’s probably just as miserable as you are right now.”

By the end of the week, you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed Heeseung’s annoying jokes, his ridiculous nicknames for you, and even the way he stole your pens.

As you packed up for the day, you glanced over at his desk one last time. He was still there, his head bent over his laptop.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over and tapped his shoulder.

Heeseung looked up, surprised. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said softly. “I, uh… I just wanted to say that I miss working with you. It’s weird, not having you around.”

His expression softened, and for the first time all week, you saw a hint of the familiar grin you’d missed so much.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice equally quiet. “I miss it too.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the unspoken understanding between you saying more than words ever could.

As you walked out of the office together, you couldn’t help but smile.

TYPING THING

The office was unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon, with most of the staff either wrapping up for the weekend or grabbing coffee to get through the last stretch of the day. You were at your desk, double-checking slides for the upcoming client presentation, your focus unwavering.

Heeseung, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as productive.

For the last twenty minutes, he’d been sitting at his desk, staring at the small piece of paper in his hand. Scribbled on it were the words he’d been too chicken to say out loud:

I like you. More than I probably should. But I think you’re amazing.

Heeseung read the note for the fiftieth time, his nerves getting the best of him. It wasn’t grand or overly poetic, but it was honest, and it was him. He figured that might be enough.

He cast a glance at your desk. You were so absorbed in your work, your soft voice barely audible as you answered a question from Yuna. Heeseung felt his heart skip a beat, and before he could overthink it, he folded the note and slipped it into your desk drawer when no one was looking.

“Step one complete,” he muttered to himself, quickly returning to his desk and pretending to work.

Later that evening, you packed up your things and headed out with Minjun, who had insisted on meeting you at work. Heeseung had ruffled Minjun’s hair on the way out, earning a cheeky “Bye, hyung!” that left Heeseung smiling to himself.

But what neither of you noticed was that Minjun, curious as ever, had opened your desk drawer while waiting for you. He’d seen the folded piece of paper and thought it was a doodle Heeseung left for him (a habit Heeseung had developed during Minjun’s office visits). Without a second thought, Minjun tucked the note into his pocket.

The next morning, you were seated at the breakfast table, sipping tea as Minjun bounded into the room, holding a piece of paper.

“Noona!” he chirped, waving it in front of your face. “Look what I found in your drawer!”

You blinked, setting your mug down. “What is it?”

Minjun handed it over proudly, and your stomach did a backflip as your eyes scanned the words.

I like you. More than I probably should. But I think you’re amazing.

Your heart raced. You immediately recognized Heeseung’s handwriting.

Minjun grinned innocently, leaning on the table. “Is it from your boyfriend?”

“W-What?” you stammered, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

“Isn’t it from Heeseung Hyung?” Minjun asked, tilting his head. “He’s always smiling at you. And he brought you snacks the other day. That’s what boyfriends do, right?”

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to laugh or hide under the table. “Minjun, it’s not–he’s not-”

Minjun pouted. “But I like him. Can’t he be your boyfriend?”

You sighed, folding the note and setting it aside. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Why?” Minjun asked, his wide, innocent eyes making your heartache. “Do you not like him?”

Your face burned. “Minjun, eat your breakfast.”

Minjun grinned knowingly, taking a big bite of toast. “You do like him,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. This was not how you imagined starting your weekend.

Meanwhile, Heeseung was at home, pacing his living room.

“She’s going to see it today,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “And she’s either going to think I’m sweet or an idiot. Probably an idiot.”

Jay, who was lounging on Heeseung’s couch, looked up from his phone. “You’re overthinking it. She’s definitely going to think it’s sweet.”

“You don’t know that,” Heeseung shot back.

Jay shrugged. “Okay, but let’s say she does like it. Then what?”

Heeseung froze. “I… don’t know. Confess, I guess?”

Jay smirked. “You ‘guess’? Come on, man, you’ve been pining after her for months. You need to have a plan.”

Heeseung groaned, flopping onto the couch beside Jay. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because you’re making it hard,” Jay said. “Just tell her how you feel. Worst-case scenario, she doesn’t feel the same, and you move on.”

Heeseung glared at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Back at your apartment, you stared at the note again, Minjun’s words echoing in your mind.

Was it possible that Heeseung really felt that way? The thought made your chest tighten, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you.

Chaewon’s voice rang in your head: You miss him. Don’t even try to deny it.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and opened a text thread with Heeseung.

Hey, are you free later? I think we need to talk.

Your finger hovered over the send button for a moment before you hit it, your heart pounding.

Seconds later, the “typing…” bubble appeared, and your stomach flipped.

Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?

You smiled faintly. That was so like him—always checking in.

Yeah. I’ll let you know when I’m free.

As you set your phone down, Minjun peeked over your shoulder, his face lighting up. “Are you texting Heeseung Hyung?”

You gave him a look. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

Minjun grinned. “Nope! Can I invite him over for dinner again?”

You sighed, ruffling his hair. “Maybe.”

Minjun beamed, clearly pleased with himself. As he darted off to watch cartoons, you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Minjun might have been a little troublemaker, but you had to admit—his matchmaking skills weren’t half bad.

The afternoon passed in a blur of anxious thoughts and restless pacing. You had texted Heeseung again, asking him to meet you at a quiet café near your apartment. It was a neutral, low-pressure spot, perfect for whatever this conversation would turn out to be.

As you sat at a corner table, fiddling with the edge of your cup, you tried to mentally rehearse what you would say. But every time you formed a sentence in your head, it sounded either too vague or too awkward.

The sound of the bell above the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Heeseung walked in, scanning the room until his eyes landed on you. He smiled, his usual confidence tempered with a hint of curiosity.

“Hey,” he said as he slid into the seat across from you. “What’s up? You seemed… serious.”

Your heart pounded. He looked too good in his casual hoodie and jeans, his hair slightly tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed.

You forced yourself to smile. “Thanks for coming. I just—there’s something I need to ask you.”

Heeseung tilted his head, leaning forward slightly. “Go ahead.”

You reached into your bag, pulling out the folded note Minjun had so helpfully delivered. Placing it on the table between you, you said, “I think this is yours.”

His expression froze. For a moment, he stared at the paper as if it were a live grenade. Then, with a nervous laugh, he picked it up.

“Ah… so you found it,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Actually, Minjun found it,” you said, unable to hide your small smile. “He was convinced it was from my ‘boyfriend.’”

Heeseung groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Of course he did.”

You bit your lip, watching as he slowly set the note down. “Is it true? What you wrote?”

Heeseung took a deep breath, his playful mask slipping for a moment. “Yeah, it’s true.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You had expected him to dodge, to brush it off with a joke, but here he was, being completely honest.

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” he continued, his voice softer than usual. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you. And I wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Your heart felt like it was doing cartwheels. “Heeseung, I—”

He cut you off, his gaze meeting yours. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel the same. I get it. I just needed you to know.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. You took a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “I do feel the same.”

Heeseung blinked, his surprise evident. “You… do?”

You nodded, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t realize it at first, but… I think I’ve liked you for a while, too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the confession settling over the table. Then Heeseung’s lips curved into a grin.

“So… does this mean Minjun was right?” he teased, his confidence returning. “I am your boyfriend now?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Too late. I’m never going to let Minjun live this down.”

You shook your head, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through you at the thought.

When you walked through the door later that evening, Minjun was waiting in the living room, his face lighting up the moment he saw you.

“Did you see Heeseung Hyung?” he asked eagerly.

You sighed, ruffling his hair. “Yes, Minjun, I saw him.”

“And?”

“And… you were right.”

Minjun’s eyes widened. “So he is your boyfriend now?”

You groaned, but your blush gave you away. “Go do your homework!”

Minjun darted away with a triumphant grin, leaving you to collapse onto the couch, your heart still racing.

This wasn’t how you had imagined things unfolding, but as chaotic as it had been, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was exactly as it should be.

The day of the big project presentation had finally arrived, and the energy at BrightSpark Solutions was electric. After months of brainstorming, late-night revisions, and a few too many arguments that had led to your newfound relationship, it all came down to this moment.

You were pacing the hallway outside the conference room, clutching a printed copy of the pitch deck. Heeseung leaned casually against the wall, watching you with an amused smile.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” he teased.

You shot him a glare, though your lips twitched with a smile. “This is huge, Heeseung. What if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” he said confidently, stepping closer and gently prying the deck from your hands. “We’ve practiced this a hundred times. You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”

You sighed, the warmth in his voice calming your nerves. “You’re way too relaxed.”

He smirked, leaning down slightly. “That’s why we make such a great team. You worry enough for both of us.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered. Even now, his confidence was annoyingly reassuring.

Inside the conference room, the air was thick with tension as the high-profile clients took their seats. Manager Kim gave you both a firm nod before signaling for you to begin.

As the presentation unfolded, you and Heeseung fell into a seamless rhythm. Your calm, explanations paired perfectly with his engaging, charismatic delivery. The clients nodded along, visibly impressed by the visuals and strategies you’d spent countless nights perfecting.

By the time the Q&A session ended, the clients exchanged a few whispered words before standing.

“This is exactly what we were looking for,” one of them said with a smile. “We’re excited to move forward with BrightSpark.”

Relief flooded you as the room erupted into polite applause. You glanced at Heeseung, who grinned and gave you a small thumbs-up.

The second you stepped out of the conference room, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “We did it,” you whispered, leaning against the wall.

Heeseung stood beside you, his grin widening. “No, you did it. You were amazing in there.”

You shook your head, still catching your breath. “We both did it. This wouldn’t have happened without you.”

Heeseung turned to face you fully, his expression softening. “Well, I’m proud of us. But mostly, I’m proud of you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. The noise of the office faded into the background as he stepped closer.

Before you could overthink it, Heeseung tilted his head and whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

Your breath caught, and you managed a small nod.

Heeseung leaned in, his hand gently brushing against yours as his lips met yours in a kiss that was both soft and electric. For a moment, everything else disappeared, and all you could think about was how right this felt.

The door to the conference room burst open, and the sound of cheering snapped you back to reality.

“Congratulations!” Chaewon shouted, leading a group of coworkers who had clearly been eavesdropping.

You and Heeseung jumped apart, your faces turning bright red as the group flooded into the hallway.

“Oh my god,” Yuna squealed. “Were you guys just kissing?”

“I knew it!” Jay crowed, pointing at Heeseung. “You owe me twenty bucks!”

Heeseung groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Seriously? You guys couldn’t give us five minutes?”

Chaewon smirked, crossing her arms. “Not a chance. Besides, it’s about time you two got together officially.”

You buried your face in your hands, utterly mortified. Heeseung, however, quickly recovered and slung an arm around your shoulder.

“Alright, alright, let’s hear it,” he said, grinning. “How many of you had bets going?”

Nearly everyone raised their hands, much to your dismay.

“I hate all of you,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

As the celebration continued, you found a quiet moment with Heeseung near the break room.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly how I pictured our first kiss,” you admitted, your cheeks still warm.

Heeseung laughed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, but it’s kind of perfect, isn’t it? Pure chaos—just like us.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

Heeseung’s gaze softened, and he laced his fingers with yours. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As the sound of your coworkers’ laughter echoed down the hall, you realized he was right. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. And that made it more than enough.

BrightSpark Solutions buzzed with its usual energy, but this time, it was different. The project that had brought you and Heeseung together had long since been wrapped up, earning the company not only a high-profile client but also a glowing reputation. However, the real headline—according to the office gossip mill—was that the two of you were now officially dating.

As you walked into the office hand in hand with Heeseung, the sound of mock cheering and applause greeted you.

“Oh, look! The lovebirds have arrived,” Jay called out, grinning from his desk.

Yuna leaned over, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Should we throw you another party, or is it too soon?”

Chaewon gave a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, it’s exhausting watching you two be so cute all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks flushing. “I don’t know why you guys are so obsessed with us.”

“Because you’re finally together after months of unresolved tension!” Yuna exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Do you know how hard it was to watch that? It was like a slow-burn romance novel, but with fewer cliffhangers.”

Heeseung laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Admit it, though. It was worth the wait.”

Jay pretended to gag. “Ugh, save it for after work. Some of us are single, you know.”

Later that day, Minjun made his usual post-school visit to the office, bouncing in with the enthusiasm only a child could muster.

“Hi, Noona! Hi, Heeseung hyung!” he greeted, skipping over to your desk.

“Hey, buddy,” Heeseung said, crouching down to Minjun’s level. “What’s up?”

Minjun puffed out his chest like he had an important announcement. “I told my teacher that I have a new brother now.”

Your jaw dropped. “Minjun!”

“What?” he said innocently. “You told me Heeseung Hyung is your boyfriend, and boyfriends are basically brothers, right?”

Heeseung bit back a laugh, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Minjun beamed, clearly proud of himself. “And when are you getting married? Can I be the ring boy? I’ll wear a suit!”

The office erupted into laughter, Chaewon and Jay practically falling out of their chairs.

“Minjun, we’re not—” you started, but Minjun wasn’t done.

“And after that, are you gonna have kids? Can I help name them? I think ‘Superman’ would be a good name if it’s a boy.”

Yuna choked on her coffee, while Heeseung leaned against your desk, absolutely loving the chaos. “Superman, huh? That’s a lot to live up to.”

“Stop encouraging him!” you hissed, swatting his arm.

Minjun, undeterred, turned to Heeseung. “You’ll marry her, right? You like her, don’t you?”

Heeseung crouched down again, grinning. “Of course I like her. But marriage is a big step, little guy.”

Minjun frowned, clearly unimpressed with that answer. “Well, hurry up. I want cake.”

That evening, after work, you and Heeseung walked Minjun home. He skipped ahead, humming to himself, clearly plotting your wedding and future children’s names in his head.

“I think your brother’s going to start planning the menu next,” Heeseung said, smirking.

You groaned. “He’s out of control. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I think it’s cute,” Heeseung said, bumping your shoulder with his. “Besides, he’s got good taste. You’d make a great wife.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “Are you serious right now?”

Heeseung shrugged, his grin widening. “What? Can’t I be honest?”

You stared at him, flustered, before Minjun called from up ahead. “Hurry up, lovebirds! I don’t want to miss my cartoons!”

Laughing, Heeseung grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

Back at BrightSpark, life continued as it always had—only now, you and Heeseung were the unofficial couple everyone rooted for. You still bickered over small things, like who got to control the music during late-night work sessions or whose turn it was to grab coffee. But at the end of the day, it was clear to everyone that you were both undeniably happy.

Minjun, of course, took full credit for your relationship, often reminding anyone who would listen that he “made it happen.”

During one particularly busy afternoon, he visited the office yet again, walking straight up to Manager Kim and asking, “When are Noona and Heeseung Hyung getting married? They’re really slow.”

Manager Kim, barely holding back a laugh, turned to you and said, “You know, I think your brother might have a future in project management.”

Chaewon leaned over and whispered, “Or matchmaking.”

You groaned, but as you glanced over at Heeseung, who was busy playfully arguing with Minjun about superhero names, you couldn’t help but smile.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours—and that made it all the more special.

lmk if there are any mistakes and please like, reblog, and comment it is appreciated very much

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shytulipghost · 12 hours ago

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Here's a funny anecdote:

When I was 13, I had an idea for a time travel story which was about a kingdom that had a magical clock tower that was created by a wizard a long time ago. The citizens would heavily rely on said clock to go back in time and fix their problems (the problem though was that they would have to climb up the tower to move the hands of the clock anticlockwise).

An alternative for the citizens was to go up to the wizard's descendants for help. The descendants had a pocket watch that they could use to time travel and it was an object they would pass down from generation to generation (it worked the same way as the clock tower, but they could also move forwards in time and stop time). However, the citizens would take advantage of them and treat them as living tools instead of people.

I ended up abandoning the whole idea 2 or 3 years later because I didn't know how to develop the story and I was starting to lose interest in it.

...

Cut to last year, when I decided to watch the first two episodes of The Little Prince 2010 series out of nostalgia (to be more precise, the "Planet of Time" arc). I was having a good time rewatching it and I was slowly remembering the enjoyment I had for this series when I was a kid (I had only watched the first season). Then, I got to the flashback scene in the second episode, where the viewer is shown and told how the Snake tempted the watchmaker (a very important figure in that planet because he controls all the planet's clocks and how time functions there) to ignore his responsibilities and, unknowingly, slowly destroy his own planet.

Here's the relevant part of the flashback: the Snake basically asks him if he wishes to be a kid again and not be stressed and burned out anymore (the watchmaker had been exhausted lately because of his job). Once he seems interested in the idea, the Snake gives him a "solution". What's that "solution"? To grab a clock and move the hands anticlockwise so he can essentially "go back in time" (he doesn't actually time travel; he just turns into a baby).

The moment I watched that scene, I remembered my abandoned time travel story and thought: "Oh, so that's where I got that idea!" (I also realized that it was very ironic to be watching these two episodes again for nostalgic reasons).

I knew that some childhood shows and movies had a direct influence on my art and writing (for example, the main characters of the novel I'm writing are just the Mane 6 from MLP: you have the nerdy girl, the sporty girl, the girly girl, the silly girl, etc.), but I hadn't considered that "The Little Prince" may have also influenced my work (both the abandoned and non-abandoned ideas). I might have subconsciously taken other elements from it, such as some of its themes and plot details).

I think it also probably had a small influence on some of my antagonists (especially, some of my demon characters). There aren't any demons in the series, but the Snake is depicted as being kinda like Satan, with him tempting people and making deals sometimes. (Funnily enough, when the series came out, I had started catechesis and my mom had read to me an abridged version of the Bible that was made for kids. However, I didn't make the connection at the time that the Snake was acting like the serpent from the Bible).

NOTE: the series isn't a Christian show, but it's something I noticed after rewatching it. There aren't any other similarities to the Bible or Christianity besides that. Also, I'm not very religious, but I find stories with demons interesting.

being an artist and revisiting media you liked when you were 11 is like. oh ok. this shaped my sense of humor and the way I write characters and the way I pace narratives and the tropes I'm drawn to. and I vastly underestimated how much of an impact it had on me because I literally have not thought about it for 15 years. but it was there inside me the whole time. ok. ok cool! c ool

#reblog #not my post #long post #childhood shows #childhood movies #nostalgia #how fitting that i'm talking about the snake in the year of the snake lol #also when i was drawing one of the illustrations for last year's halloween #(more specifically the one where i depict the 100 demons as blue parasites coming out of the man's body)#i looked at the demons i had drawn so far and thought: “hey they kinda look like the snake's minions”#(for context: i had rewatched the episodes a few months earlier)

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benispunk · 2 days ago

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If I Had The Chance

logan howlett x reader

One teeny-tiny silly question lead into something a tad bit bigger for Logan.

TW: nothing, this is pure fluff, just a draft I had for months and never actually posted. this is honestly so silly I was giggling while writing it. not proofed read.

Masterlist

The mansion was alive with music and chatter, students and teachers alike enjoying the end-of-school celebration. The air was filled with a mixture of excitement and relief, the pressure of the school year behind them. Logan and Y/N stood near the edge of the crowd, out of the spotlight but close enough to feel part of the celebration. Logan had a bottle hidden behind his back, and every now and then, he passed it to Y/N when no one was looking.

“Careful,” Y/N whispered with a grin as she took a sip. “We’re not supposed to have this here, remember?”

Logan’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Since when do we follow the rules?”

She laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the drink settle in her chest. They had always been close, sharing inside jokes and stolen moments like this, but lately, there had been something more—something unspoken hanging between them. The others had noticed too, often teasing them about their connection.

“So,” Y/N said suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Out of all of us here... if you had to, who would you marry?”

Logan turned to her, raising a brow at the unexpected question. “What kinda question is that?”

She shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual. “I don’t know. Just something stupid. Who would you pick?”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s a dumb question.”

“Oh, come on! It’s just for fun. Who would it be?” Y/N pressed, enjoying the way Logan was avoiding her question. She could see the slight smirk forming on his lips.

“Marry? No one,” he replied gruffly, looking away as if to change the subject. “We’re not talking about this.”

Y/N crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Would you have preferred the ‘who would you sleep with’ question?”

Logan glanced at her from the corner of his eye but remained silent. His silence only made Y/N more determined, a playful grin creeping onto her face.

“Well, if I had the chance to marry someone here,” Y/N said, feigning thoughtfulness before pointing her finger at him. “It would definitely be you.”

Logan stopped mid-swig and turned to her, eyes narrowing slightly. “If you had to?” he repeated, emphasizing her words with a teasing tone. “Or if you had the chance?”

Y/N’s face immediately turned bright red as she realized her mistake. “Uh... well... I mean—”

He leaned a little closer, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “’Cause there’s a difference, darlin’. One’s a duty, the other’s a choice.”

Y/N stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “I... I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant... you know... hypothetically!”

Logan chuckled deeply, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Sure you did.”

She rolled her eyes, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just watched her for a moment with that infuriating smirk. Finally, after letting her squirm long enough, he leaned back against the wall and, almost casually, said, “Well, if I had the chance, I’d marry you too.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, caught completely off guard by his sudden admission. She opened her mouth to say something but found herself utterly speechless.

Logan gave her a wink, his tone light but sincere. “Guess that makes us even.”

And just like that, he handed her the bottle and turned back to watch the party, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart racing and a million thoughts running through her mind.

The party continued around them, but all Y/N could focus on was the warmth spreading through her chest—though this time, it wasn’t from the booze.

———

As the night grew late, the energy in the mansion started to wind down. Groups of students headed off to bed or continued chatting in smaller circles, while the music softened to a quieter background hum. Y/N found herself lingering near Logan, their playful exchange still buzzing in her mind.

They hadn’t said anything more about the marriage comment, and Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Logan had left her hanging on purpose, just to mess with her. Typical.

She looked over at him, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, looking effortlessly cool. She could still feel the warmth from his earlier words, and it bugged her that she had no clever comeback ready.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “you’re just gonna drop that line and leave it like that?”

Logan glanced at her sideways, a teasing grin already forming. “What line?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on her. “You were the one to ask the question.”

“Right,” Y/N said, “and you sounded pretty serious for a silly question.”

Logan turned his head slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Was it a silly question?”

The way he said it made her pause, caught off guard. She hadn’t been expecting him to flip it on her like that.

“Well, yeah,” she said, though her voice wavered slightly. “I was joking around.”

“Were you?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with curiosity.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Was he serious? The playful energy from earlier had shifted, and suddenly, she found herself standing closer to him than she had realized. She could see the faint lines around his eyes, the roughness of his skin, and the way he was watching her now—intensely.

“You know, you can’t just say things like that and then pretend it’s no big deal,” she said softly, her voice losing some of its teasing edge.

Logan’s smirk faded into something softer, more thoughtful. “Maybe it is a big deal,” he said quietly. His voice was low, the roughness in his tone giving away more than he intended.

Y/N blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Was this really happening? She wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck.

Logan took a small step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. “You said you’d marry me too, remember? So don’t act like you’re off the hook.”

Y/N’s mouth opened, but all that came out was a nervous laugh. “Yeah, but I was just... I mean, it was hypothetical!”

“Hm,” Logan hummed, his eyes still locked on her. “Sounded pretty real to me.”

There was a tension in the air now, the kind that made her stomach flip. He was so close, and she could smell the faint scent of whiskey and cigar smoke on him, mixed with something uniquely Logan. It made her dizzy in the best way.

“I—” Y/N began, but the words were swallowed by the silence between them. For once, Logan wasn’t teasing. He was looking at her with that serious, guarded expression he wore when something actually mattered to him.

“Logan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft background music. “Are you serious?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, just looked at her as if weighing his options. Then, with a soft grunt, he leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching hers.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he murmured.

The world seemed to freeze for a second, the weight of his words settling between them like an invisible force. Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure if they were still teasing or if this was something more.

Before either of them could say anything else, someone called out from across the room, breaking the moment. They both pulled back, the spell broken, and Y/N could see a flicker of regret in Logan’s eyes before he turned away.

“Guess that’s our cue,” he muttered, giving her one last glance before heading toward the doorway. She watched him go, her chest tightening with unspoken words. But just as he reached the door, he turned back and met her gaze.

“’Night, Y/N.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. And then he was gone, leaving her standing there, her heart racing and her mind spinning.

———

The mansion was eerily quiet as the last of the partygoers trickled out, leaving only a few lights dimly flickering in the grand hallways. Y/N was still standing where Logan had left her, trying to shake off the flurry of emotions from their almost-moment.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, her thoughts still spinning around Logan’s words. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Was that real? Was she really about to believe him?

Unable to rest with so many unanswered questions, she slipped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. The night sky stretched out before her, cool and calming. For a moment, Y/N let herself breathe in the silence.

But it didn’t last long.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

She jumped, startled, spinning around to find Logan leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed.

“You scared me,” she said, placing a hand over her chest.

He smirked. “Didn’t mean to.”

Logan stepped onto the balcony, the door clicking shut behind him as he joined her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. He leaned against the railing beside her, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Thinking about something?” he pressed, though his tone was casual.

Y/N hesitated, glancing sideways at him. She wanted to brush it off, but something in his expression made her stop.

“Maybe,” she said quietly.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Does it have to do with what I said earlier?”

She let out a small laugh, though it came out more nervous than amused. “What do you think?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead letting the silence stretch. Finally, he said, “You know I meant it, right?”

Her breath caught, and she turned to look at him fully. He was watching her now, his usual smirk replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“You’re really not going to let me play this off, are you?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Not when it’s the truth,” Logan said simply.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, and she looked away, focusing on the stars instead. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be so… earnest.

“Logan…” she started, but her voice trailed off. She let out a shaky breath. “You know I was just joking.”

But even as she said it, the words felt hollow. She wasn’t joking, not really. She had thrown the question out there in a playful way, hoping to hide how much she had actually meant it.

Logan, however, wasn’t letting her off that easy.

“You were joking,” he echoed, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe her. “You sure about that?”

Y/N met his eyes, searching for the right words, but all she could find was the truth.

“No,” she admitted softly. “I wasn’t joking.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Logan’s expression softened, though the intensity in his eyes remained. The night air felt charged with something between them—something fragile, but real.

He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “Why didn’t you just say that from the start?”

Y/N laughed, though it was more nervous than anything. “Because it’s you,” she said, exasperated. “You’re not exactly easy to talk to when it comes to… feelings.”

Logan smirked at that, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “Can’t argue with that.”

They stood there in silence for another beat, both aware of how close they were now. Y/N could feel the warmth radiating off him, could see the way his chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths.

“Look,” Logan said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I’m not good at this…whatever…crap this is.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I meant what I said.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “About marrying me?”

Logan chuckled, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah. Though I think we should date first, you know?”

Y/N huffed a laugh at that, looking up at him, not knowing what to say, yet.

Logan took another step toward her, his eyes softer now, less guarded than she’d ever seen them. “I ain’t exactly the marrying type,” he said gruffly, his hand coming up to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “But if I were… yeah, it’d be you.”

Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up, her mind racing to catch up with everything he was saying. Before she could overthink it, she smiled—really smiled—and finally let herself relax.

“Well,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “lucky for you, if you had to marry someone and it was me…I’d say yes.”

Logan’s smirk grew wider, and for a brief moment, all the tension between them melted away. They weren’t just two people who’d been teasing each other all night. They were them—close, familiar, and something more.

Y/N felt a surge of confidence, emboldened by the way he was looking at her. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn’t deny the pull between them anymore.

She took a step closer, standing just inches away now, her gaze never leaving his. “You know,” she said softly, “we could keep pretending, or…”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his signature smirk faltering ever so slightly as he realized where this was going.

“Or?” he prompted, his voice low.

“Or we could stop pretending,” Y/N finished, her voice steady despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with anticipation. Logan’s eyes searched hers, as if trying to figure out if she was serious.

Then, he let out a soft laugh, almost a huff, the corner of his mouth curling into an amused, knowing smile.

“Is that your way of saying I can kiss you?” he asked, his voice warm and teasing.

Y/N smiled back, her confidence growing. “Maybe it is.”

That was all the encouragement Logan needed. He closed the distance, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, but filled with all the unspoken things they hadn’t said. Y/N melted into him, her hands resting against his chest as the world seemed to fall away around them.

When they finally pulled back, Y/N was breathless, her heart racing as she met his gaze.

Logan looked down at her, his smirk returning but softer this time. “Well, I’d say that complicates things,” he murmured.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I think it makes things a lot simpler, actually.”

He grinned, and for the first time in a long time, Logan looked… happy. Really, genuinely happy.

“Yeah,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Maybe you’re right.”

They stood there on the balcony, wrapped up in the quiet night and each other, finally free of all the teasing and dancing around their feelings.

And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something neither of them had seen coming—but had wanted all along.

#fanfiction #fandom #ao3 #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #marvel cinematic universe #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #xmen fanfiction #xmen x reader #deadpool 3 #logan x reader #x men movies #xmen fanart #x men

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nocturnalnella · 2 days ago

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I love this idea ! I’m going to use every prompt , starting with : Asking the other one to marry them, before even being together or having confessed their love for each other.

An unexpected proposal 💍

Warnings : None - Fluff. SFW.

Pairing : Thorin Oakenshield x female reader.

The air was thick with smoke and the bitter scent of singed stone as Y/N stood among the ruins of Lake-town. The remains of the once-proud city lay scattered, a reflection of both destruction and hope. Just moments ago, she had fought alongside Thorin and the rest of the Company to rid Middle-earth of Smaug, the dragon whose tyranny had suffocated so many lives. Now, as the dust began to settle, a deafening silence cloaked the aftermath of their triumph.

Y/N glanced around, her heart pounding not just from the adrenaline of battle but from the overwhelming weight of what had just happened. Briefly, she thought of all the friends they had lost, but her thoughts were interrupted when Thorin suddenly stood before her. A fierce determination clouded his features, his blue eyes blazing with an unyielding intensity.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a command, not a request. “Marry me.”

Her eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden proposal. “Thorin, what—”

He held up a hand, the silver ring glinting in the dim light. “We fight, we lose friends, we rebuild. But in the midst of all that, I want you by my side. As my wife. My battle-axes may break, my armor may shatter, but I will never leave your side again.”

The words tumbled from his lips like a fierce battle cry, unyielding and unwavering. She stared at the ring, stunned, her mind racing as the full weight of what he asked for crashed against her.

And yet, with a spark of realization, she remembered all the quiet moments they'd shared, the stolen glances, the whispered conversations that hinted at a deeper connection they dared not acknowledge. The memories flooded her thoughts like a warm wave of comfort.

“Thorin,” she said softly, her voice trembling, as she gazed back at him. “Of course, I will marry you.”

Thorin's face lit up with unbridled joy, his eyes sparkling like the stars on a clear night. He slid the ring onto her finger, his hand warm and steady, the touch sending a shiver through her. And as he did, his voice took on a husky undertone that caught her off guard.

“Then let us seal this promise, my love. Tonight, in the shadows of this ruined city, let us forge our own legend. One that's not made of fire and destruction, but of passion and love.”

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the sensual tone of his voice, the words weaving a spell around her heart. She met his gaze, their eyes locking in a fierce, burning connection.

“Tonight,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Thorin's smile deepened, revealing that spark of mischief and passion in the depths of his eyes. With a low chuckle, he pulled her close, his lips crashing against hers in a kiss that left her breathless and wanting more.

And in that moment, amidst the devastation of Lake-town, their love became the flame that would illuminate their darkness, a beacon of hope in a world still scarred from the dragon's wrath.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

True Idiots in Love

Asking the other one to marry them, before even being together or having confessed their love for each other

Being in a really healthy and nurturing relationship that people love to witness - without realizing they actually are in a relationship

Living together for some time, being engaged to get married, and still questioning if the other one actually really likes them or if they're just being nice and a good friend

Both trying to ask the other one out on a date, thinking the other one is talking about dating someone else

One of them breaking the news that they got together to their friends and family, excited that it finally happened - but their partner missed the memo, completely misunderstood their "getting together" story, and is still thinking their love is unrequited

Being a couple is an inside joke for them, casually "joking" about being each other's wife/husband, even in front of people who don't know it's a joke, and that make them realize that it never really was a joke

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

#thorin oakenshield #idiots in love #writing prompts #the hobbit #the hobbit thorin #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #king thorin #thorins company #thorin durin #thorin fic #richard armitage #prompt list

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hgfictionwriter · 18 hours ago

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Revelations: Part Two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's confession leaves you reeling. It changes everything and you don't know how to even begin to navigate the emotions and hardships that come with it.

Warnings: Angst. Language.

You blinked several times and your mouth fell open to speak, but zero words came. Your jaw remained slack while a frown slowly formed as your thoughts ricocheted inside your head. You stared at Jessie, vaguely processing the deep look of concern on her face.

"I-I had no idea," she began to speak with a new urgency spurred on by your silence. She shifted closer to you and held out her hands in her lap in emphasis. "I just," she shook her head as she tried to find her words. “I arrived for a game and she was there. I-"

“Wait. Who,” you finally spoke as your frown deepened while your mind struggled to comprehend what was being said.

“Um, well, Sara,” Jessie said as you saw her trying to compose herself again. “My um, ex? I guess? I don’t know what to call her, really. But, um," she swallowed hard, gaze fixed on the floor as she spoke, "she told me we needed to talk." She glanced at you, eyes pleading. "I-I didn't know what to do with that information. It seemed so weird - I hadn't seen or talked to her in years and all of a sudden she just showed up wanting to talk? And you know how things are at the doors, I just rush through, so I just kinda nodded, but moved past. I didn't even exchange information with her."

She swallowed audibly again and began to wring her hands together. Her voice quivered.

"I didn't think much of it. I thought maybe she wanted to catch up and I dismissed it because, I don't know - she and I were connected so briefly," she said as her voice rose in pitch and she rubbed her face roughly.

Her shoulders visibly rose and fell as she took a second. She looked at you more fully and her eyes glistened with mounting tears.

"She showed up at the next game - same thing. But this time she held out her phone to me." Her pace slowed and her eyes drifted briefly to the floor. "She had a picture up."

Your heart pounded so heavily in your chest that you felt for sure she could hear it. You watched wordlessly, jaw now clenched tightly as she retrieved her phone. She eventually turned it over to you.

Somehow you managed to lift your hand, a tremble in the action, as you took the phone. Your breath held stagnant in your throat as you looked down to see an image of a little girl with dark, wispy curls looking up at the camera with a familiar smile. Her cheeks were tinged pink with freckles adorning them and her nose.

The synapses in your brain fired rapidly as pieces fell into place. You tried to swallow, but nearly choked at the effort. You stared at the photo so long that her screen locked. Your stunned expression reflected in the darkened screen for several seconds before you looked up at her.

Jessie stared at you, eyes wide and searching. She looked terrified.

"What am I looking at?" You eventually asked, voice wavering with how dry and tight your throat was. Jessie inched closer to you, knees now touching yours. She gently retrieved her phone from your limp grasp.

"That's-that's Zoie," she announced softly, her voice nearly a whisper. "My daughter."

It was her second time confessing it, but this time it hit you hard and square in the chest. The feelings that had been simmering and forming just beneath the surface came rushing up. You shook your head several times and let out a weak laugh.

"I-I don't understand. What are you talking about?" You shifted your gaze up to the ceiling and waved your hands about in confusion and desperation. "How do you even know? That could be anyone's kid!"

The weight in your chest undermined your words. The image you just saw on her phone was near impossible to deny despite every fibre of your being wishing for this to be some horrible misunderstanding.

Jessie didn't respond immediately and you snapped your head back down to see her eyeing you remorsefully.

"I know," she said quietly, casting her gaze down as she opened her phone to look at the photo again. "It's a lot to absorb. I-I didn't believe it at first either."

You realized that your jaw was clenched so tightly that your teeth were starting to ache. Your fingers dug painfully into the tops of your thighs. Tears began to burn behind your eyes and you stared hard at Jessie. She didn't cower, but her shoulders were hunched as she stared absently at the photo.

"She's mine, Y/N," she said softly, looking up to you once more. "Sara and I-"

The mention of this other woman brought out a visceral reaction in you.

"Wait - hold up. Who the hell is Sara again?" You interjected. "I don't remember you ever mentioning her." Jessie sighed wearily, picking at the corners of her fingers.

"She," Jessie started, waving her hand around aimlessly, "was, kind of just some girl. She was on the track team and we met during my last couple of months at UCLA. We'd really only been on a few dates before I got signed to Chelsea and left for London. I stopped hearing from her not long after I left. I didn't really know why. And I didn't really question it either - we weren't committed, I was busy - new life, new career. I didn't give it more thought." She exhaled somberly. "Now I know why."

Your pulse was still pounding loudly in your head as her words settled in.

"Just 'some girl'?" You asked as your raised your eyebrows. "Some girl - who happened to have your kid," you said with surprising steadiness as you stared her down.

She winced, recoiling slightly and burying her face in her hands before lowering them.

"I know this is a lot to dump on you. I-I'm so sorry, babe," she said. She huffed irritably. "This is why I didn't say anything for so long. I had to wrap my head around things and I just couldn't even begin to fathom what to say to you."

You sniffled and sat up straighter. "So what. You fuck this girl. She gets knocked up. But...you're in London when she finds out? And what - she just doesn't tell you? She just carries on - lives her life, has your kid. And all of a sudden decides to confront you?" You asked bewildered.

"I know," she said sullenly as she closed her eyes. "She chose not to tell me because I was so far away and I had no intention of coming back to LA. And, I don't know, she said she just didn't see how it would work and didn't want me to abandon this great opportunity." She sighed. "But when I transferred to Portland, she thought it was time. Zoie's starting kindergarten in September - other kids have their parents and, Sara just thought it wasn't fair to Zoie..."

Your throat was dry all over again. As she talked it dawned on you that she'd been having all of these conversations and developments with this woman. Her ex. The mother of her child.

"So all of this hiding around, secret calls and texts, late nights - all of this bullshit - you've been sneaking around talking with her?" Saliva pooled in your mouth as you thought about it.

Jessie fidgeted. "Yes. But - it was all about Zoie. Trying to figure things out. There was absolutely nothing else going on. I swear," she said adamantly as she grasped your hands. You might've pulled away if your limbs didn't feel numb. "She knows I'm in love with you. So in love with you. And that we're engaged."

You stared vacantly at the floor as you gave a slow shake of your head. None of this was making sense. This just couldn't be real.

"I don't - I don't even know what to think," you said. "What does all of this mean? W-what now?" You asked as you tried to keep your voice even and calm.

Jessie held your hand tightly as she retracted the other to rub her mouth in thought. Her voice cracked as she started to speak.

"She's staying with her aunt up here and is looking for a place to live. Zoie's enrolled in a school up here now. And," Jessie released your hand to clasp hers together, shoulders rising with a breath, "I...I'm going to be a part of Zoie's life. She's my daughter. And I'm going to help raise her." She took a deep breath. "And I pray that you want to do that with me."

You opened your mouth to speak, mind still reeling. Your jaw flexed a couple of times as you tried to find your words and Jessie forged on in your silence.

"I love you so much," Jessie said, voice breaking once more. "And I know you didn't sign up for this. I don't want to lose you, but, I can't walk away from this. Now that I know, I can't just pretend or try to make this all go away," she said with increasing breaths. Her eyes filled with tears, "And it's been killing me to lie to you. You're the love of my life, my best friend, and to keep this from you the past few weeks has been torture. You're the one who I talk to when things are hard, when I need advice, and to know that this could hurt you," her voice grew taut as tears began to fall, "and that it would change everything..." She took a shuddering breath. "All I ever wanted was to make you feel loved and safe. And now..."

Her shoulders shook as she began to cry fully. Despite the shock and concoction of still-unnamed emotions coursing through your body, you still found yourself reaching out to comfort her. It was automatic. Natural.

She cried harder as you placed your arm around her and she curled into you, clutching you desperately to her in a way she never had before. You blinked, nonplussed, but embraced her nonetheless.

Your mind flashed back to a moment all those weeks ago. Suddenly, that moment took on a whole new context.

You slowly blinked, waking as you heard rustling at the front door. You yawned and stretched out in bed.

"Jess?" You called, voice slightly hoarse with sleep. You rubbed your face as you reached over to check the time on your phone.

1:45am

"What the fuck," you whispered as you stared at the time with a wince. You sat up and looked out into the darkened apartment.

You'd been at her game that night and was planning to wait for her, but she'd texted you right before warm-ups telling you that coach wanted to speak with her after the game. She told you she loved you and to not to wait up. She'd meet you at home.

"You can turn on a light, Jess - it's fine," you called. She didn't respond, but soon you heard her slowly pad into the room. You frowned as you made out her silhouette. "Are you okay? Why are you home so late?"

"Uh, coach had us do a debrief and study plays. And then Janine and I just stayed after and talked," she said blandly and with a heavy breath. She wordlessly got changed and climbed into bed, curling into herself at the far edge. "I'm sorry to wake you," she said softly into her pillow.

You gave a small chuckle. "It's fine, babe. Just glad everything was okay," you said as you laid down behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She stiffened, but you chose not to chalk it up to anything. "You must be exhausted," you added.

"Yeah," she said quietly. A second passed and she added. "I love you, you know."

You chuckled once more and kissed the back of her shoulder. "I know."

You fell asleep again, but awoke sometime later to hear retching coming from the bathroom. You sat up and tossed the covers off, walking towards the sliver of light coming from underneath the bathroom door in the dark. You pushed open the door to see Jessie bent over the toilet, one hand bracing herself against it and the other holding back her hair as she heaved though nothing came out.

"Oh my gosh," you whispered as you rushed over and dropped down next to her, only now noticing the tears streaming down her face. You held back her hair for her and rubbed her back soothingly. She sobbed and coughed. "Jessie, oh my God. What's going on?"

She swallowed audibly as she tried to compose herself. She wiped hurriedly at her face.

"I'm just not feeling well," she said quickly, giving you a cursory glance as she tried to catch her breath.

"Is that all? You're crying," you said as you kissed the side of her head and handed her some toilet paper. She dabbed at her face as she shook her head.

"I'm fine. It's just from the dry heaving. My stomach's not feeling well," she insisted. She stared blankly forward before looking over at you, staring at you even. "I love you," she said again.

"I know, baby. I love you, too," you said with a soft smile as you kissed her head once more. She was pale and shaking. "I'll go get you some water," you said. You were about to rise when she grabbed your hands urgently, tugging you down.

"No," she said firmly, before clearing her throat and quieting. "I just - I don't want you to go. Can we just stay here for a sec?"

You frowned. She really must not be feeling well. Jessie could be very affectionate, but she wasn't clingy. You nodded readily, scooching closer to her and caressing her cheek.

"Of course, baby."

Your mind continued to reel as Jessie cried in your arms. She was distraught. Nearly hyperventilating. You'd never seen her like this. She was always so calm and even when she was upset, it was a quiet upset and often tightly controlled. Nothing like the woman who was sobbing in your embrace as you blankly stared at the wall.

During that time, something came over you. The initial anger and bewilderment took a backseat as the woman you loved clung to you for comfort.

When she eventually calmed, the weeks of emotional turmoil and lack of sleep caught up to her. When she forced herself to sit up, her eyes were puffy, bloodshot and they were heavy with exhaustion.

You tried to ask her a few questions and she did her best to respond, but she was visibly struggling in the haze of her breakdown. She looked like a shell of herself.

You found yourself speaking.

"We should go to bed."

It took a moment for your statement to register and she gave you the faintest look of question. You cleared your throat but held her gaze.

"You're exhausted. And, I don't even know what I'm thinking or feeling, so...," you trailed off, your gaze following suit. She started to protest, but you cut her off with quiet resolve. "Jess."

She stared at you, eyes darting across your face in apprehension.

"I'm terrified you're going to leave me," she said, her voice thin as her eyes welled up again.

Your heart raced, but you didn't waver. "I'm here," you told her evenly. "We have a lot more to talk about. But, maybe not tonight."

It felt like an out of body experience as you two retreated to the bedroom and got into bed. With the lights off, you lay stiffly on your back staring up at the ceiling. Out of the corner of your eye you could see her on her side watching you but too afraid to close the space between you.

Again, this understanding that she needed you somehow subdued all of your other impulses. You lifted your arm and wordlessly beckoned her. She hesitated for a second before rushing in and wrapping herself around you, her head on your shoulder. You held her in much the way she often held you.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice tight with emotion. "I promise I'll do everything I can to make this work. Whatever time you need - whatever you need - it's yours. I know we'll adjust," she expressed. "And Zoie - she's so sweet. And funny. And bright. You're going to love her, Y/N. And she's going to love you so much. I know it."

A lump immediately formed in your throat and your grip on her tightened. You hoped it just felt like a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's get some sleep," you managed to say.

You stared up at the darkened ceiling still in a state of delayed shock. It was only when Jessie's breathing gradually deepened and slowed as she fell asleep that you allowed silent tears to start flowing.

Your jaw ached as you ground your teeth together and you fretted as your chest hitched with a shaky breath; Jessie didn't stir.

You never would've anticipated this in a hundred years. You always felt Jessie would be a great, dedicated parent. You'd talked about it together at length. You'd imagined it many times.

You just always pictured that it would be your child - the one you and her had together. Not one she had with someone else.

This changed the entire landscape of your relationship. Your future together. Everything you envisioned was now wildly and forever changed.

It was no longer just you two. Jessie had a family now. But not with you.

Right or wrong, you wished she'd been cheating. Then you could've been righteously furious, upset, betrayed. And - in theory - it could be something you two could work to put in the past; to forgive, forget and move on. But this?

There was nothing temporary about this. It was permanent. Painfully permanent. She was a parent and forever would be. And this woman - someone who'd been a blip in a minor, negligible story of Jessie's past - was actually tied to her for the rest of her life and in so much more significant a way than you.

Suddenly, your world went from being focused and centered on you two and the future you'd build together, to now you being a bystander - an extra - in your own life.

Your throat seized up and you choked back a sob.

What was the rule book for this? You felt like your emotions and your wants needed to take a backseat. Much like this evening. Now you, your feelings, your needs, paled in comparison.

Jessie had a new role to step into. Something far more important than your girlfriend or fiancée. And that little girl's well-being and right to have a loving parent in her life trumped your hurt. Who were you to hold Jessie back from being an important and fulsome part of her child's life?

Her child. Her and some other woman's child.

It hurt to even think it.

Your mind spiraled throughout the night and your stomach twisted in knots over and over. While Jessie somehow slept straight through the night - maybe finally at peace to some degree after her confession - you could barely sleep a wink.

You were already awake by the time your morning alarm pierced your ears. Jessie jolted awake, but you remained stoic. The alarm continued to blare and you stared absently at the wall ignoring it. The bed shifted as Jessie reached over you to turn it off.

You laid still and unblinking even as you felt Jessie observing you as she sat back.

"Hi," she greeted softly, tentatively.

The impulse to reply was a mere flicker and the muscles in your throat twitched briefly before giving up.

She laid a hand gently on your arm, but didn't speak, surely uncertain of what to say. You heard her swallow as she absently caressed your arm.

"Are you going to work?" She asked quietly. You gave a feeble shake of your head. "Mm," she voiced and you saw a glimpse of her chin dropping towards her chest. "I understand. I missed practice the next day. And more, really, since I've been all over the place with various meetings, and yeah," she finished even quieter, belatedly realizing she'd said too much.

She never told you she missed practice. As far as you knew, she was at the facility training. As far as you knew, she was always where she said she was. Clearly that wasn't true.

You wordlessly lifted your inert form from the bed and willed your limbs to carry you to the bathroom. She remained still for a moment, but soon heard her rush after you. You shut the door firmly behind you and locked it with a deafening click before she reached it.

"I can stay home with you," she offered through the door. "I want to. I know we have a lot to talk about. And I want to be here for you."

"Go to practice, Jess," you told her dully before a flicker of anger rushed over you. "Or wherever the fuck you want to go."

You leaned against the wall, catching a glimpse of your reflection and immediately looking away, deeply unhappy with what you saw in the mirror.

"Babe, please," she implored. "Can we talk? I don't want to leave you."

Your anger flared once more, but you worked to temper it, your fingers digging painfully into your arms as you hugged yourself tightly. You sniffled.

"Have a good day, Jess. I'll see you later," you said with finality through the door as you opened the shower curtains and turned on the water.

"Babe," you heard her call through the door. Several moments passed before you her muffled voice filtered through one more time. "I'll miss you today. Please text or call me if you need anything. I'll be here in a flash."

You got undressed and stood outside the shower. The seconds passed as you remained there. The tension in your body continued to mount and you had red, angry divots in your skin from where your nails dug in. You waited. You wanted her to leave, just being around her hurt, but her actually leaving felt like some kind of unsettling confirmation.

Your stomach sank as heard nothing further from her and you stepped into the shower and cranked the heat.

It only took seconds for you to double over as tears came once more, except this time the scalding hot water washed them away.

You audibly sobbed, comforted to know that the sound of the shower would muffle your cries in case Jessie was listening in. The water burned, pellets bouncing off of your skin like sharp pinpricks, but it felt satisfying and good. It distracted you from everything going on inside of you right now.

You looked down and realized you still had your engagement ring on. You hadn't taken it off last night. A strangled noise escaped your mouth and you envisioned ripping off the ring, drawing back the curtains and throwing the ring across the room. The fingers of your opposite hand gripped the ring tightly, ready to pull, but eventually fell to your side.

She hadn't betrayed you. She'd given this ring to you, this promise, in good faith. She still loved you. She still wanted you. She didn't know this was coming.

Somehow it still hurt and you cried harder.

When you eventually exited the shower, your skin battered and abused, you got changed and collapsed onto the couch. You spent the better part of the day trying to distract yourself in front of the TV, but even in your catatonic state, you couldn't truly settle.

Jessie texted you a few times throughout the day saying how much she loved you, asking if there was anything she could do, that she missed you.

You never responded.

She came home early that day with your favourite take-out in hand and looking oh so sweet and hopeful as she offered it to you. You mustered up a flat 'thank you', but could manage to only eat a few forkfuls. Suddenly, Jessie's recent lack of appetite all made sense.

You talked further. You learned that her family knew, Sinc and Janine knew as well. It felt humiliating that you were so far down the list, though some deep-seated part of you understood her logic - that there was so much more to lose in telling you.

You learned she was already into conversations with lawyers about custody, child support, the list went on. At some point, her voice just became an echo in your head, your mind far too overwhelmed to properly process everything.

"I should stop talking," she eventually said gently as she watched you while you stared absently at the floor.

You sighed heavily and rubbed your eyes before dropping your hands into your lap. You sat motionless for a second before saying, "I don't even know, Jess. I have no idea what to say or do."

You heard her exhale. "I know, baby. I'm sorry." You didn't respond, but she leaned in and gave you a soft, tentative kiss on your temple. You still didn't react and she withdrew with another soft sigh, her hand lingering on your leg before pulling back altogether.

"I can sleep on the couch tonight," she offered.

This drew you out of your passiveness. You shot her a glare as your body tensed with irritation. Her brow furrowed in confusion and hurt at your visible scolding.

"What?" She asked, her own upset and frustration starting to show. "I-I don't know what you want or need. And I wish I knew. I wish you'd tell me, because all I want to do is to fix things and I don't know how right now," she beseeched.

You turned on her. "It's been one fucking day, Jessie. One day! You've had fucking weeks to process all of this and you got to control how you were going to handle it, when you were going to tell me, how - all of it. I have zero control," you seethed. "Not only do I have to wrap my head around you having a kid and how that changes everything for us, but you've also been lying to me and I still don't know everything. I don't know what to think or feel. So I'm sorry that you feel uncomfortable, but I need more than one fucking day to adjust."

Your outburst silenced her and she fidgeted slightly under your steely gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just...," she reset, looking at you now, "I just want to do whatever I can to make this as painless as possible."

You bit back a bitter laugh. You knew she meant well, but 'painless' was an impossibility.

"I don't know if you want me to go or to stay," she added vulnerably.

You took a shaky breath, feeling sorry for her again. "I know," you said and rubbed your face. You exhaled quietly. "I don't want you to go."

"Then I'm not going anywhere."

A/N: Tag request - @valuyhh

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #wlw angst #woso angst

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