#i wrote up some pattern notes

[m0ose-idiot]

It's Chief Elder Choop!

Likes: "governing" Yonderland; cheese scented candles; blank holidays; the Chosen One

Dislikes: evil overlords; being hungry; firm pillows; haircuts

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

synopsis: you feel lonely and buy a new sex doll on the market, not knowing what you got yourself into.

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

word count: 10.3k

warnings: alcohol, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), squirting, creampies

a/n: spooktober continues🤭🫶🏻 if u love black mirror, these are vibes for u! also i'm sorry if the ending seems rushed but i have two more things to write for hyunjin before i continue with my spooktober🫠

!!! this fic has an ambiguous ending

~ divider by @bunnysrph

~ Masterlist

~ Dolly masterlist

Your cursor hovers over the 'continue to payment' button.

Are you really doing this?

It's embarassing enough that you can't get a date lately, and everyone around you keeps bugging you about it, asking when you're going to find a partner already.

Like you need one. You were perfectly fine alone.

But everyone has needs, and the ad for the new sex dolls that have just come out on the market looked enticing.

Each one of the new models was a unique one, only one of them made as it was sort of a trial run for them and your attention was captured by Hyunjin, the romantic doll.

It was expensive too, but you had money saved up on the side and thought, why not get something for your pleasure and try something new as well.

'Fuck it!', you thought and clicked on the button, purchasing the doll; there was no going back now.

Eagerly, you awaited the day it would be delivered to your door and three weeks later, there was a big box in the middle of your living room.

Biting on your lip, you stare at the box as your heartbeat quickens.

In the pictures, it looked so real. Like it was a real human being and to say you were a bit disturbed was an understatement.

But as freaky as it was, you were still so curios about it so you opened up the box slowly, your eyes wide for the peculiarity of it all. There were covers neatly placed over the doll, and bubble wrap just about everywhere, but on top of it all was a letter.

You opened it up and it read;

Hello,

my name is Hyunjin and I am your romantic doll.

I love art, good food and wine, long walks on the beach and heartwarming movies.

Please, treat me with great care as I am sensitive, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with cuddles.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

As you read that, you couldn't help being a little freaked out by the doll professing his love to you, but you had to remind yourself it's just the creators of it who wrote the letter, making the concept more real and human to give some kind of comfort to the buyer and personality to the doll.

Taking a deep breath, you remove all the bubble wrap and slide off the cover.

"Oh." you gasp loudly, your hand slapped on your mouth as you finally see the doll.

He looks too real to be just a doll and for a second you just stare into his eyes, unmoving but somehow warm, his facial features chiseled to perfection, his lips plump and inviting.

Your eyes travel down to see he was dressed in a nice button up, intricate flower patterns sewn into the material, coupled with nice pants and even some very expensive looking shoes.

The doll had jewelry on, his nails were painted, there was so much detail on it; he even had a mole under his eye. You marvelled at the dedication of the people who made it and obviously put a lot of though into Hyunjin.

You notice then that there is a note sticking out of the shirt's pocket and you carefully pick it up.

My love!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like it and enjoy our first romantic night together.

"Wow, they really went all out with this." you say out loud as you look at the doll, the next question forming in your mind.

How heavy is the doll?

You spend a few more minutes just examining it with your eyes, too nervous to touch it and you can't get over the way it looks just like a real human being.

You rest your hand on the box, your fingertips gently grazing the doll's cheek.

"Oh!" you gasp, retracting your hand. It feels like real skin and with wide eyes your hand moves closer to his face again, your palm pressing slowly against his cheek.

"Are you alive?" you chuckle to yourself but the doll doesn't answer or move at all, just as you expected.

Your fingers slowly explore the doll's face, his lips are plushy and they seem actually kissable, the material they used, whatever it was, made it seem like they were real human lips.

You lean in closer to take a better look into his eyes, your hand coming up to play with locks of dark hair, which again, seems like real hair, the little curls are soft to the touch and bounce back as you pull on them gently.

Now you're leaning so close to him, and you can smell the nice, comforting scent radiating off of the doll. You've no idea what they used, but he smells fresh and flowery.

"Okay, let's get you out of the box." you lean back and hook your hands under the doll's arms before making it sit up.

His head falls to the side a little, making you feel a bit creeped out because it really seemed like you were handling a dead person instead of an actual doll, but the only indication that it wasn't a dead human is the lightness of it.

He wasn't as light as a feather but he wasn't as heavy as dead weight either.

"Maybe the couch?" you talk to yourself as you look over to your comfy couch, the pillows fluffed up already and a soft blanket thrown over it.

Somehow, thankfully to your regular exercise, you manage to lift the doll into your arms and carry him to the couch.

The way he slumps when you put him down, again freaks you out a little, but for some weird reason you're even more interested in how you can actually use the doll.

You prop him to sit nicely and turn on the tv to some art channel, remembering how the doll 'said' that he likes art.

"I hope that's what you enjoy." you shrug and throw the fluffy blanket over the doll's legs, folding his soft hands into his lap, before you go back to the box to find the manual.

"Here it is." you dig out the booklet and start reading.

They listed the materials but you still had no idea what they were so it flew over your head. There was also a page with pictures of the other dolls and the makers' letter to the customers, thanking them for purchasing the doll.

Flipping the pages, you find what you were looking for.

Your face becomes red as you read the doll's 'abilites', including that his thing can vibrate and cum, he reacts to your touch and that he has a usb charger that gets plugged into the back of his neck.

"W-wow." you nod to yourself as you keep reading until you flip to the last page.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening so be aware of that.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, bruise or cut the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Hyunjin doll, do not be too harsh on him considering he's sensitive.

Hope you enjoy the romantic soul you chose!

Bruise? The doll can bruise?

Why are they talking about it like it's alive?

You gulp and turn to look at the couch but the doll is unmoving, turned towards the tv, same position as before.

You peek back into the big box to find another, smaller box inside it, that was beneath the doll's feet earlier.

You carefully take it out, putting it on the floor and opening it curiously.

Inside, you found a change of clothes, more casual looking ones and something to be used as sleep wear. It was like getting a Barbie doll with all her outfits when you were a kid.

So bizzare, yet it made you feel excited in a way.

After getting up, you decide to clean up the mess you made with the bubble wrap and put the box away in your closet, just in case, if you ever wanted to return him.

"Okay." you nod and come back to peek at the doll.

The television screen reflects in his eyes, his hands crossed in his lap, just how you left him and relief washes over you.

Why are you even scared?

You shake your head and decide to prepare lunch.

You're in your kitchen, listening to some slow music as you cook, completely forgetting about the doll sitting in your living room.

That is, until the volume of the tv suddenly increases making you jolt and gasp.

Your back straightens as you turn off the stove.

Slowly turning around, you stare at the direction the sound is coming from.

You swallow and make your way to your couch, you don't know what to expect but the doll is still in the same position you left it, the tv remote is out of his reach, down on the coffee table.

You grab it and decrease the volume before looking back at the doll.

"If that wasn't you, we have ghosts in this apartment. But if it was you, you're obviously wanting my attention." you cross your arms as you stare at him.

Nothing.

"Fine, I will eat lunch with you." you declare before going back to the kitchen to get yourself food.

You mostly eat in front of your tv anyways, not caring about any rules since you live alone, enjoying the freedom it brings you.

Settling down next to Hyunjin, you pull the blanket over your legs too and start eating.

You chuckle to yourself, if someone saw you right now, they'd think you're absolutely insane, sitting down next to an inanimate doll that looks eerily human.

You take a peek at Hyunjin, sighing as he sits still.

"You do look alive. But I'm literally talking to myself." you say and of course get no answer.

Shrugging, you continue about your day, washing dishes and doing laundry, enjoying your selfcare routine after getting your apartment in order, your Hyunjin doll observing your movements from the couch.

In the evening hours, you finally come back to him.

"Are you tired of being in the same position?" you ask, knowing there will be no answer.

"We can have dinner now." you add and leave to the kitchen to bring out some food and a bottle of wine.

"This is insane. Top 5 weirdest things I've done." you talk to yourself as you look down at your black satin nightgown, with lace details on the top, perfectly resting on your chest. "Maybe it even takes up the first place."

You settle next to Hyunjin once again, changing his position a little as you fill up two glasses of wine.

"Our first date, I guess?" you sigh with a chuckle before drinking the wine.

His glass stands full on the coffee table, untouched as you start eating next to him once again.

"I guess I should tell you a bit about myself. I work in an office. I hate my job but it pays the bills." you say, "I always wanted to be in a band though. Played guitar in high school. Never got too far with that. I love art too, you know, any shape or form of it. Maybe that's why I chose you. You seem like an artist. Or you would be if you were real, ha." you chuckle, yapping away as you keep drinking the wine, the doll listening to you without moving.

You keep pouring the wine into both his and your glass but it's only you drinking from both glasses.

It gives you a nice buzz, warmness that spreads through your body and manifests itself between your legs.

Usually, you'd play with your vibrator or dildo but seeing as you got a literal sex doll, you thought you should use him for the purpose he's made for.

"Now, what do I do with you?" you smirk, your hand coming up to play with the doll's hair, twirling the lock in your fingers.

"I mean, I can do anything I want." you nod, scooting closer to the doll.

"I feel fucking crazy." you laugh, pulling the covers off of Hyunjin.

Your hand is pressed on his thigh as you touch him gently through his clothes, your mind still marvelling at the fact that he feels like a real human being.

"I'm curious." you whisper, your fingertip playing with the button of his shirt, wanting to see what he looks like underneath the nice clothes they made him wear.

Slowly, you start unbuttoning the doll, taking your time with it, as anticipation builds up, creating a swirl of excitement inside you.

When you pop open the last button, you open up the shirt and gasp.

"Wow." you lick your lips at the sight, the doll's nipples look aroused, his stomach is toned, it looks like there's a vein leading down into his pants making your eyes fall down at his crotch.

You still have no idea how they made him look so real but you're eager to explore, planting your hands on his chest, running them up and down to his stomach, tracing the vein with your fingertips.

You run your hands back up to his nipples and flick them gently with your thumb before pinching them experimentally.

Gasping, you notice a growing bulge in the doll's pants.

"Am I pushing the right buttons?" you chuckle at your own joke as you continue playing with his nipples.

Your impatience however doesn't let you stall for too long, so your hands make their way down to the hem of his pants.

"Let's see." with a smirk you unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down with a little struggle as you have to lift him up a little.

You place your hands on his thighs, squeezing the flesh a little, watching as his cock twitches like he was really alive.

"You really do react to touch." you gasp in wonder, what kind of technology was this?

They even put underwear on him which you think is a nice touch but at this point, you were too curious not to slide them off immediately.

"Woah!" you gasp as his cock springs free of its confines.

You think it's the biggest and most beautiful cock you've ever seen, framed by a neatly cut bush, a visible vein running up the whole length.

You stare at it for a little while before you wrap your hand around it, your other hand fondling his balls.

It feels real once again, like he's throbbing and twitching, hot and heavy on your palm, a bead of precum at the tip.

"What in the hell?" you mumble, your finger swiping at the tip as you gather the liquid and bring it to your lips.

You suck your finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and tasting the sweetness of the doll.

How he tasted so sweet was beyond you.

"Fuck it." you chuckle, pulling off your nightgown and tossing it aside, which leaves you completely naked like the doll is.

"I didn't even kiss you. Not very romantic of me." you smirk as you throw your leg over Hyunjin, sitting in his lap, your wet folds pressed against his cock.

You lean in and press a kiss to his lips, and of course the doll doesn't kiss back but his lips move with your movement and it feels good as you grind on his hard length.

"Look at you. Letting me do all the work like all the rest of them." you scoff with a smirk and at that, the doll's cock twitches a little too hard against you, almost pushing inside you.

"Wow. Someone's excited." you stare at the doll's eyes but there is nothing in there to indicate that he was in fact listening to you.

"For how much you cost, I hope this is worth it." you shrug and grip the base of his cock, guiding it inside you.

Sitting down on his length has you gasping as he fills you up perfectly, like his cock was made exactly for your pussy to take.

Your grip the doll's shoulders and use it for what you intended to when you clicked on that purchase button.

No matter how turned on you are though, staring at Hyunjin's almost expressionless face proves to be a turn off so you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you press your chest to his and continue bouncing on him.

Save for the fact that his hands lay limp on the side, his skin feels human and he feels kind of warm, like there was something inside the doll, warming it up.

"F-fuck." you whimper as the head of his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside you, it's like the more wet you get and the harder you fuck on him, his cock responds to you.

"R-right hand for activation." you repeat the instruction from the manual, as you blindly search for his right hand, sliding your fingertips on his wrist to his palm, your head leaned on his shoulder as you slowly gyrate your hips.

Your fingers interlace with his and it feels almost like Hyunjin grips your hand back, making you jump a little but before you can move away, his cock starts vibrating inside you.

"A-ah!" you moan loudly as your other arm curls around him, holding onto him while you fiddle with his fingers, your legs clamping around him as you start falling apart.

"G-gonna cum!" you whimper, burying your face in Hyunjin's neck and he smells so nice, feels so good as his cock keeps vibrating against your spot, bringing you to your high quickly.

The ecstasy you feel as the vibrations persist, prolonging your orgasm, overstimulating you while you ride the feeling makes you miss the single blink that Hyunjin's eyes make before returning to their original glassy and unmoving state.

"Too much." you whimper, squeezing his thumb and the vibrations stop.

You know that the left hand brings a happy end to the doll but you're not sure if you're done with it yet.

Leaning back to finally look at his face has you a little disappointed as you don't notice any kind of change on his face.

"Kinda wish you were real." you whisper, hugging the doll as you start bouncing on his hard cock again, bringing yourself easily to another orgasm.

You squeeze the doll's left hand after that, and feel spurts of warm cum shooting inside you as his cock twitches, the head bruising against your spot violently as he fills you up with copious amounts of the sticky substance.

You're pretty sure the neighbors can hear you moan as you cum again, the feeling of being filled up to the brim satisfies you and has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Wow." you breathe hard, your cheek leaned on Hyunjin's shoulder as you grip his wrists while you come down.

You lean back to look at the doll again.

Were his lips slightly upturned before?

In the fogginess of your orgasms, you couldn't tell or think straight.

"Be right back." you slide off of him and make your way to the bathroom, taking a quick five minute shower before you grab a wet cloth to clean the doll up.

He sits how you left him, and you kneel between his legs to clean him up carefully.

His cock is not completely soft nor hard anymore, it's somewhere in the middle, but as you touch it gently, it seems to react and twitch again.

"You came already." you smirk and experimentally pinch the tip of Hyunjin's cock, but nothing happens except the member twitching again.

You stand up with a sigh, covering him with the blanket again before you leave for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Just as you turn on the water to wash your mouth out, you hear something akin to a sigh coming from your living room.

You freeze, turning off the water and listening closely but you only hear the quiet buzz of the lamp above your mirror.

Maybe you were just imagining things.

You shake your head and finish your business before going back to Hyunjin.

"I'm too tired to dress you now, but boxers should be enough." you say and struggle to get him dressed, almost giving up during the process.

"I should just keep you naked in my bed to avoid the hassle." you say, lifting him up and carrying him to your bed.

"Cuddles, right? I do love me some cuddles too." you say with a tired smile as you adjust Hyunjin in your bed.

You join him under the covers and lean on your elbow as you lay sideways, staring down at him.

"How'd they make you look and feel so real?" your hand is on his cheek, and you trace his eyebrows, his nose and lips.

Fingertips travel to his ears, down to his neck and his chest.

"Don't come alive and scare me while I'm sleeping, Hyunjin." a shadow passes in his eyes as you say his name but you're too busy caressing his toned stomach to notice.

"Night." you kiss his lips before turning off the lamp and laying your head on his shoulder.

Somehow, you adjust his arms so that it seems like he's holding you and you throw your leg over his, your hand tracing patterns on his chest and side.

It was like hugging and kissing your pillow in high school, except this one took the shape of a human being.

With thoughts and questions about Hyunjin swimming in your head, you fall asleep quickly, not noticing how the doll's arms tighten around you ever so slightly.

Early in the morning as your alarm starts blaring loudly and annoyingly, you groan and stir, almost forgetting about Hyunjin being next to you.

"Oh!" you gasp. "Good morning, dolly." you say after turning the alarm off, as he stares at the ceiling.

"Sadly, I gotta go to work and leave you here alone. You better behave while I'm out." you lift a finger up menacingly, but there's a playful smile on your face.

"Man, I'm crazy." you shake your head before leaning in to leave a nice, wet smooch on Hyunjin's cheek.

"I'll come say bye before I leave."

And you do so, after eating breakfast and getting ready, you're back in your room.

"Should I put you in the living room so you can watch tv?"

The doll never answers.

"Maybe, yeah. You'll be bored lying in bed all day." you nod and carry Hyunjin to your couch.

You make him comfy, cover him with the blanket, card your fingers through his messy hair and then turn on the tv, leaving the remote in his lap.

"Gonna be late because of you." you sigh and lean down to place a kiss on the doll's lips.

"Be a good doll."

And with that you finally leave your apartment.

All day at work, you can't help but wonder if your Hyunjin doll somehow came alive, and for some reason you were looking forward to seeing him even if he didn't.

"What's got you so happy? Finally got laid?" your coworker chuckles as you stand in the office kitchen making yourself some coffee, you know she always gossips about you behind your back so you don't wanna give her the time of the day.

"Mind your business, Amanda." you answer quickly, turning to leave back to your office.

"Okay, you didn't then." she calls behind you with a giggle but you decide to ignore her.

"Fucking bitch." you mutter to yourself as you close the door.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully and you can't wait to drive back home to Hyunjin.

"I'm home!" you yell out as soon as you step inside, hearing that the tv is still on, nothing out of the ordinary.

You make your way to your living room to find Hyunjin in the exact same position as you left him almost 9 hours ago, the remote still next to his right hand, the same channel you turned on this morning on the tv.

For some reason, your shoulders slump.

"Well, I guess you've been a good doll and took my warning literally." you shrug a little.

"Still, I want to reward you. As soon as I eat and take a nap that is." you add and go about your routine, eating lunch, taking a shower and of course changing into your comfy clothes, which at this time of the year consisted of an oversized t-shirt and panties.

"Let's take a nap together, dolly." you say to Hyunjin as you lift him up and move him to your bed again.

You lay him on his side, then mirror his position, taking his arm and wrapping it around your waist, the other comfortably under your neck.

Tracing patterns on his stomach and chest again, you start talking.

"Your life is so easy. From the couch to the bed, you don't even have to work or go anywhere. Meanwhile, I have to endure fucking Amanda every day at work. Do you have any idea how bitchy that woman is?", you talk as you cuddle your doll. "She has to know eeeeverything about eeeeeveryone. Soon, she'll crawl up my ass just to look at my insides."

You look at Hyunjin's face and for a moment it seems as if his eyes moved.

"Are you listening to me, perhaps?" you whisper, your hand on his cheek. "I know I'm probably crazy. But I'm glad I got you. Even though you're a bit creepy, you bring me comfort." you add, tucking your head into his neck.

"I'm gonna sleep now."

Slowly blinking your eyes awake, you feel warmness enveloping you that's not coming just from your blanket but from Hyunjin.

Quickly, you realize that somehow his thigh ended up pressed against your core, your leg thrown over him as you scooted closer to him in sleep.

"Oh." a little sound escapes your lips as you grind against his warm thigh, feeling wetness on your panties.

Before looking up at him, you press a kiss to his collarbone and it seems like his thigh moves against you once, making you jolt.

"Hey." you look up at him, but his eyes are unmoving as always.

You observe his face but the throbbing between your legs makes you grind against him again.

"F-feels good." you whimper, leaning in and kissing him, letting your tongue dart out and lick at the plump lips.

You feel his erection press against your other thigh, the one flush against him and you chuckle a little.

"Someone likes me a lot." you say, leaning back to look at him.

It looks like there's a small smile on his face that you swear wasn't there before.

"Hm." you squint your eyes as you stop your movements.

"Gotta try something." you declare after a moment of silence, lifting up and removing the blanket.

You push Hyunjin on his back, hooking your fingers in his boxers and pulling them off of him.

"Aw, you really do like me a lot." you smirk at the sight of the doll's cock, twitching and leaking again like it did yesterday.

"I'll give you some attention, you deserved it."

You spread his legs, adjusting them so you can kneel between his thighs and you lean down.

"I haven't done this in a while. You can't complain though." you chuckle a little as you grip his cock and let your tongue dart out, catching the sweet tasting precum with it.

You don't understand how he tastes so sweet, it's hard to put your finger on what exactly the taste is but it makes you want more so you swirl your tongue around his head, your moans muffled as you swallow the sweet liquid.

"Mm. Fuck you taste good." you whine and put your lips around him again, slowly taking more of him in as you bob your head up and down.

Sucking cock like that is not your favorite thing to do, sometimes it makes you feel uncomfortable but having Hyunjin be so still and so tasty has your arousal pooling on your panties and you keep wanting more.

You take as much as you can, coating his cock in your saliva, your tongue pressing along his vein as you fondle his balls has him twitching inside you.

You smirk and grip his left hand, spurts of hot cum hitting your throat and it tastes even sweeter than before as you whimper and swallow everything.

"Damn hot." you whine, quickly getting rid of your shirt and panties, before you take his now completely wet cock in your hand and start jerking him off to make him hard for you again.

It doesn't take long to excite the doll and you decide to turn your back to him and fuck on his cock like that so that you don't have to look into his lifeless eyes while pleasing yourself.

You sit on him and push his cock inside yourself, your warm cunt engulfing his entire length easily.

"Mm." you gyrate your hips as you close your eyes and enjoy teasing yourself, your wet pussy coating his navel and balls.

"God, you're perfect Hyunjin." you whine and start fucking on him.

In the deep throes of passion as you bounce on him, your nails digging into his thighs for support, your eyes closed in pure bliss, you don't notice anything.

You don't notice Hyunjin blinking, his lips opening to speak but nothing comes out.

He can't move no matter how hard he tries and once again his eyes go back to the glassy state they're always in.

"Gonna cum." you whine loudly, gripping his right hand and he starts vibrating inside you, pushing you over the edge and making you scream as you squirt all over him.

"Fuck." you whine as your eyes focus, noticing you have left red marks in his thighs.

"Oh. Did I hurt you?" you gasp, your fingertips gently running over the marks.

"Didn't mean to." you look back at him but he lays still.

His cock twitches inside you and you grip his left hand, making the doll fill you up as you slowly ride him.

You lift up slowly, his cum sliding down your inner thigh together with your release.

"Made a mess of you, dolly." you look at the state of him.

"Maybe a bath?" he doesn't answer but still you prepare a bath and place him in it, careful of the usb opening on his neck.

You get inside after him, settling between his legs and leaning your back on his chest.

"Why are you so warm, Hyunjin?" you caress his arm as you hold it, his other one thrown over your stomach.

Sighing, you lean on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying to relax in the warm water, as Hyunjin 'held' you.

You still couldn't understand how they made him, but you were willing not to think about that, as he brought you a kind of comfort you didn't expect, making you wanna indulge in that feeling for as long as you could.

It's been exactly two months since you've gotten your Hyunjin doll, and ever since then you've loved spending every day with him.

You talked to him like he was alive, you watched movies with him, you read him books, you slept next to him every single night, you brought him to the kitchen so he can watch you cook, you even took him on late night drives sometimes, feeling bad that he was locked up in the apartment all day.

Sometimes, you thought you saw a flicker in his eyes, a slight smile on his face, or his fingers twitching against his thighs.

Some nights, while you're half asleep, you could swear that he tightened his hold on you or his chest lifted up and down like he was breathing.

Some days, as you'd come home from work you found him in a slightly different position than you left him.

One time, you sat him next to the window so you could watch rain together, and when you came back from making some tea, there was a heart shape in the fog on the glass.

"Did you do this dolly?" you caress his hair and look at him closely but he doesn't react.

You sigh, tracing another heart next to the first one before you sit in his lap, bringing the warm cup to your lips and observing him.

You thought you were going crazy in the beginning but as time passed by, you were becoming sure that there was more to Hyunjin than you initially knew.

"Just say something if you can hear me. Or squeeze my hand." you try for the nth time as you sit on your couch with Hyunjin but nothing happens.

"Fine." you huff. "Maybe you want something first. What would you like? I bought you new clothes. Maybe you want something else like... like something to do with art? We can paint together, if you'd like."

Hyunjin doesn't answer.

Nevertheless, you bring your art supplies and a bottle of wine.

You make yourself comfortable on the floor, next to Hyunjin's legs as he sits on the couch.

You end up being the one painting and drinking, Hyunjin's eyes move to look down at you, the look in his eyes softens, unlike the glassy one he always has.

He wants to talk, he wants to lean over and caress your hair, he wants to taste the wine off of your lips and feel the paintbrush between his fingertips.

But he can't. His eyes become glassy again as your phone rings, jolting you out of your peaceful activity.

It's your mother.

The conversation starts as always and it escalates into a fight of when are you settling down, why aren't you married, why are you closing yourself off, why are you such a failure?

As soon as you hang up a sob escapes your lips and you fall into Hyunjin, seeking comfort as you wrap your limbs around him, your face buried in his neck and your hot tears sliding down from your cheeks to his shirt, soaking it up.

"No one would understand." you cry. "They'd say I'm crazy and maybe I am. But I don't give a fuck."

Your body trembles against Hyunjin as you hiccup and sniffle, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your leg thrown over his thighs.

His body seems warmer than before and you squeeze him a little.

"Maybe I'm fucking crazy for loving a doll. But I love you Hyunjin." you sigh, closing your eyes as you lean against him.

His eyelids flutter a few times. He blinks.

A deep breath through his nose and you almost miss the way his chest moves up.

You place your hand on his chest, and feel it.

A heart beat slowly forming, at first almost too slow to be normal until it becomes steady and then speeds up.

He's breathing, his lips are dry as he licks at them, his hands clutch onto you and you scream.

You jump up quickly, your eyes wide as you look at him.

Hyunjin looks back up at you, his eyes wide and filled with fear and shock, mirroring yours.

He opens his mouth and a series of coughs escape his lips.

"Wh- How? Am I hallucinating?"

"Y- y/n." is the first thing he says, weakly and quietly as he reaches out for you.

You stay still as a statue, not sure what the hell is happening before your eyes.

"P-please, don't be scared." he begs as he tries to get up but his legs give out and he falls to the floor with a thud.

"Ugh." he whimpers, his hands grabbing at the coffee table.

You're slow to react to him falling from the shock of it all, making your way back to him cautiously.

"Did you hurt yourself?" you ask quietly.

"N-no, I don't think so." he says as he looks up at you.

"Who- who are you?" you don't know what else to ask, because the doll you used and played with was now a human with a heartbeat and he was looking at you, even knew your name.

"What do you mean? I'm- I'm Hyunjin, your romantic doll." he answers like it's the most normal thing ever.

"How are you alive? Why now all of a sudden? I don't get it." you say as he sits back on his legs.

"You... You love me. Your love brought me to life." he swallows, his cheeks rosy.

"Oh... There was nothing about this in the manual." The fucking manual. The doll's actual purpose. Everything you ever did to him. Embarassment washes over you and you feel absolutely mortified.

"Do you... did you hear me all this time? And um, see and feel what I was doing?"

"Y-yeah." he nods, his cheeks becoming even more red.

"Fucking hell." you whine, covering your face with your hands as you sit on the couch.

"Hey, it's okay. I- I was made for that." he says, his hand on your knee in an attempt to comfort you.

You peek at him through your fingers.

"And you were so nice to me. So... warm and loving. You made me feel so good. You never mistreated me even when you knew very well you could do whatever you want with me. I'm thankful for that. And I- I love you too, y/n." Hyunjin talks, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

"Are you programmed to say stuff like that? Are you a robot?"

He chuckles.

"I'm not programmed and I'm not a robot. Didn't you feel my heart beating?"

"I did but... I don't understand. How were you made?" you finally remove your hands from your face.

"I don't know. I wish I could answer your questions but I'm as clueless as you are. I just know I was conscious the whole time while I was with you but I couldn't speak or move. Like I was paralyzed. It was horrible. I tried giving you signs, I tried to talk multiple times but it's like something would hold me back, like there was a wall and I couldn't break through."

"That does sound horrible. I'm sorry if I ever did something you wouldn't agree to." you say quietly, your face burning in embarassment.

"No, no, I liked everything you did." he says with a sheepish smile, averting his eyes. "Wish I could reciprocate." he looks up at you through his lashes.

You're biting on your lip nervously, his hand reaches for you and you accidentally snatch yours away, not used to your doll talking to you and trying to touch you.

"A-are you gonna abandon me now?" he asks quietly as he eyes your hand.

"What?" you look back at him to see that his eyes are watery and you gasp. "No, of course not! I always wished you'd come to life. Didn't think it would actually happen so I'm still processing and hoping that I'm not dreaming."

"Oh, thank god." he exhales and you let him grab your hand. "I- uhm... I'm very hungry and thirsty. Could you help me with that?"

"Oh! Of course! I will make some dinner for us." you say and help him sit up on the couch, noticing that now he's heavier than he used to be.

"I guess I still need to get feeling in my legs and arms." he says as you bring him a glass of water.

"Mhm, probably you need to have blood pumping properly through your body. Don't worry." you pet his hair as he drinks and he looks at you.

"Here, you'll be warm like this." you wrap him up in your fluffy blanket and notice a change on the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you exclaim, your fingertips touching the skin there, making Hyunjin shiver a little.

"The usb opening is gone." you declare and he brings his hand to touch it, your fingertips grazing against each other.

"That's weird." he says absentmindedly.

"All of this is weird." you chuckle and he chuckles with you, making you look at him.

God, he's even more beautiful with a smile gracing his face, you think to yourself.

Without thinking your hands gently cup his cheeks.

"You're really alive." you whisper, your thumbs gently stroking his face, his eyes flutter as he pushes into your hands.

"I am. Does that make you happy?" he asks with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Very happy." you nod with a smile, leaning closer to him.

"Good. I want to make you happy. When you're happy, I'm happy too."

"Hyunjinnie." you whine against his lips and kiss him gently.

Having him kiss back as he clutches at your shirt is the sweetest thing ever, you think as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"Okay, I don't want you to starve now that you came to life." you lean back with a chuckle as he chases your lips.

"Yeah, please, I need food." he nods and you make your way to the kitchen, whipping up a quick dinner, checking constantly if he's okay.

You bring two plates as soon as you're done and Hyunjin's eyes seem to get bigger as soon as they land on the food.

"Be careful, it's still hot." you warn him.

"Okay." Hyunjin nods.

He eats happily, asking for more which you of course bring to him.

"Are you feeling better?" you ask when the two of you finish eating.

"Yes, much better. But I feel very tired now."

"You need sleep. Let's go to bed. Do you think you can walk now?"

"I think so." you grab his arm and help him become steady on his feet.

You lead him to the bathroom and he looks at you.

"Now that you're alive, you need to brush your teeth and wash up before bed."

"Right." he nods.

After a whole ordeal of getting ready, you finally plop down under the covers.

"Can I- Can I hold you?" Hyunjin asks sweetly and you chuckle, rolling your body into his.

"Of course."

"Always wanted to do that." his limbs wrap around you as he holds you tightly, your face buried in his chest.

"Good night, Hyunjin. Please be there when I wake up." you nuzzle into him, inhaling the familiar fresh and flowery scent of him.

"I promise I will. Good night, y/n."

It wasn't a dream.

Your eyes flutter open and Hyunjin smiles at you fondly, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Morning, dol- Hyunjin."

"You can call me dolly if that's what you like." he smirks and you chuckle.

"Eh, well you're human now. It feels like I'm degrading you." you gently touch his chest.

"I don't mind." he shifts and you feel his erection press against your thigh.

You gasp a little, your core throbbing with want.

"I'm sorry." his face is red instantly. "It's just- when you touch me... I can't help it."

"It's okay, Hyunjinnie." you slide your hand down to cup him through his boxers.

He whimpers, leaning into you, his eyes fluttering shut and you press your lips on his in a heated kiss.

His tongue licks at your lower lip and you let him in, eager to finally feel his kisses how you craved to.

Hyunjin kisses you messily and hungrily, grinding into your hand, grunting against your lips.

As soon as you slide off his boxers, automatically your hands lift up to push him on his back but he grabs your wrists gently to stop you.

"My sweet girl, let me take care of you how you deserve now that I'm able to." he rasps, his eyes hooded as he looks at you with lust.

"O-okay." you whisper and lay down on your back, letting Hyunjin slide your panties off as you pull off your shirt and toss it somewhere aside.

"I've spent so much time receiving. I want to give, my angel. My hands hurt when I couldn't touch you and make you feel good. That's all I want to do." he sounds desperate as his lips attach to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, his hands roaming on your body and settling on your breasts.

"Mm, make me feel good, Jinnie." you whimper as he squeezes your breasts, massaging them and moaning against your skin like it was more pleasurable to him than to you.

He mumbles sweet praises as he leaves more kisses that lead to your nipple, his tongue darting out to swirl around it, making you arch into him.

His eyes are dark as he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking, his other hand sliding down to grip your inner thigh.

Fingertips ghost on your skin, both his hands now spreading your legs apart.

"Do you know how much I longed to taste your sweet nectar? Will you let me drink from you, my angel?" Hyunjin asks, his finger gently pressing into your clit, circling it.

"Yes, please, oh my god." you whimper, your hips lifting up into his touch.

He smirks, trailing kisses down to your core.

He stops for a moment to admire you and you don't even have time to feel self-conscious as he spreads your pussy lips apart and leans in to stick his tongue inside you.

"F-fuck!" you jolt as he starts moving it before he leans back a little and licks at your sensitive clit.

"Taste even sweeter than I imagined." he moans, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks on it, his thumbs gently caressing your pussy lips.

"H-H-Hyunjin!" you whimper as he sucks harder, your hips lifting up in pleasure.

"Could be here for hours. Eating this sweet pussy out." he moans, pushing his tongue inside you again, this time fucking you faster, his nose giving the perfect pressure on your sensitive nub and driving you crazy.

Your hand grips his hair, pushing him more into you as he skilfully moves his tongue, his lips pressing into your lower ones as he makes out with you.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly, coating Hyunjin's face and he laps it all up greedily, his eyes shut as he whimpers into you, sending vibrations right into your core.

You feel crazy with desire the more he continues eating you out like a man starved and you have to grip his hair and pull him away after he gives you two more orgasms.

"H-Hyune, please, I need your cock." you whimper, feeling like you're falling apart.

He licks at his red lips, his eyes crazed with lust he feels for you.

"Anything my angel needs." his voice is husky as he leans over you, the tip of his cock pressed against your wet, messy cunt.

He pushes in with ease, after all, you've been fucking on him for the last two months, your pussy was used to the stretch.

"Mm, Hyunjin!" that doesn't make it feel less pleasurable when he fills you up, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Move, please." you whimper, already feeling out of it.

Hyunjin grips your thighs and starts fucking you at a steady pace, his cock dragging against your walls deliciously, sliding easily through your wetness.

"Feel so good. So warm. Just for me." he whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut before they open again and look down where his cock disappears inside you.

"Just for you, Jinnie." you moan and he looks up at you, a smile on his face.

He leans closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and in turn you wrap yours around his shoulders, bringing your bodies flush together as he buries himself deep inside your heat.

He ruts into you desperately, your lips meeting in messy kisses, spit dribbles down your chin and he licks at it, kissing your jaw and your neck wetly.

"P-please tell me you love me." he whimpers in your ear, holding you tightly as he fucks you harder, only taking a little bit of his length out and shoving it back in with force that has your mind spinning.

"I love you, Hyunjin. I love you. So much." you cry happy tears, making him cry too as you clutch onto each other.

"My angel, I love you more than anything." he says as he kisses you, his tongue playing with yours.

He brings you to another orgasm, his fingers on your nipples, pinching and pulling as he keeps rutting into you desperately.

"C-can I cum?" he whimpers, his hands gripping desperately at your waist.

"Yeah." you nod quickly and he gives you his left hand to squeeze and as your fingers entwine, he cums, filling you up endlessly, more than when he was just doll and you whimper as your legs clamp around him, lifting your middle into him and cumming with him again.

Both of you breathe hard as he stays inside you for a moment, before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of you.

"D-do I still have to squeeze your left hand for you to cum?" you chuckle a little.

"No, just... force of habit, I guess." he says sheepishly like he didn't just fuck your brains out.

"What about the vibrations?"

"You really liked that, didn't you?" he smirks, his hand sliding up your thigh tentatively, before his fingers slide between your folds, playing with the wetness.

"Shut up." you say embarassingly, swatting his hand away.

"Don't worry, I can vibrate if you want." he bites on his lip as he looks at you.

"I'm too sensitive now." you whisper and he chuckles.

"I know. Usually you don't go above four, five orgasms in one sitting. Maybe six if you're extra horny."

"It's embarassing to me that you know this in such detail." your face becomes red as Hyunjin chuckles, shaking his head.

"Nothing you should be embarassed about. I'm happy to please you." he says and leans down to kiss you gently.

You pull him into your embrace, hoping that from now on, he stays human, and keeps loving you because in this moment you can't imagine your life without Hyunjin in it.

"Thank you for letting me use your painting supplies." Hyunjin smiles up at you as he sits on the floor of your living room, like you always did when you painted.

"Don't thank me, Jinnie. What's mine is yours." you smile as you sit next to him and lean in closer.

"Let me see." you say as he looks down sheepishly.

He pushes the sketchbook towards you and you gasp.

"Hyunjin, this is amazing! How did you manage to paint so well?! And you painted me! That's so sweet."

"I- I don't know. As I started, it's like I got déjà vu, like I already did this before and many times so."

"Really? That's peculiar." you say.

"Maybe we should call the company I got you from." you add, tapping your chin.

"P-please don't!" Hyunjin panics, gripping at your thigh. "I'm scared. I don't know why but when I try to think of that place, it feels bad. Please don't call them. I don't want them to take me away from you."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. No one will take you away from me. I won't call them." you quickly grab his face to calm him down.

"You promise?" his pupils shake as he looks at you.

"I promise." you nod and kiss him sweetly to let him know he can trust you.

Hyunjin visibly relaxes with your touch, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his face in your neck.

"Um... could we go outside? We only ever went on night drives which is understandable but now that I can walk and stuff, we could go out on real dates and maybe visit museums?" he looks up at you with a smile.

"Of course! Anywhere you want to go." you smile back at him, and he leans up to kiss you.

For the next several weeks, you take Hyunjin everywhere.

To the park, the movies, museums, to a club, to different restaurants, to a mall, anything that comes to your mind, the two of you decide to visit, even going to a little town nearby for a day trip.

You don't remember the last time you were this happy and had someone next to you who made everything look so easy and sweet.

Hyunjin had taken an interest in capturing all the pretty moments so you got him a camera, deciding to surprise him for your 6 month anniversary.

As you came home from work, you called out to him but there was no answer.

"Jinnie? Are you sleeping?" you pushed the bedroom door open but the bed was vacant.

A heavy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as you searched your entire apartment and couldn't find him.

Frantically, you looked for him again, knowing that he didn't suddenly become Barbie sized and hid somewhere.

He was gone.

You ran out of your apartment to knock on your neighbor's door.

"Tony! Did you see Hyunjin today maybe?" you asked him as soon as he opened the door.

"No, I didn't, sorry." he shook his head.

You didn't know what to do so you went back to your apartment and burst into tears.

Hyunjin didn't have a phone you could contact him with as he never had the need to use one so you had no way of reaching him.

All you could do was sit and wait, biting your nails as every single scenario runs through your mind.

He will come back, you reassure yourself as you fall asleep from exhaustion.

And he does, around 10pm the door clicks open and you jolt up from your nap on the couch.

"Hyunjin?" you say into the dark space and he turns on the light, standing in the middle of your living room with two gift bags in his hand and an apologetic look on his face.

"Oh my god, Hyunjin!" you jump to your feet, running to him and throwing your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and almost knocking him down as the bags fall out of his hands and he wraps his arms around your waist.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I should've left you a note. I-I went out to get a gift for our anniversary tommorow."

"Please, don't ever disappear like that again. Do you have any idea how scared I was?" you cry and Hyunjin gasps, his hands on your face as he wipes away your tears.

"I'm really sorry. I will never ever do something like this again." his eyes water too.

"I should get you a phone." you shake your head. "Hey, how did you even manage to buy a gift? You don't have any money." you chuckle, wiping at your cheeks.

"I went to the park and painted portraits of people for money, then got the gift."

"Oh, Jinnie, you sweet fool. Just don't give me any more scares."

"I promise I won't." he nods and your lips seal in a kiss.

Despite having so many options to choose from now, Hyunjin and you decide to have a nice dinner at home for your anniversary, where it all started.

You even took out the most expensive plates and silverware you owned, adding some candles to create a more intimate atmosphere, some light romantic music playing in the background.

"Y/n, I um- got you something I'd like to see you wear tonight for me."

"Oh, you did?" you smirk. "Show it to me."

Hyunjin grabs one of the gift bags and reaches it to you with an excited smile.

You chuckle and peek inside, seeing that he got you black and red lacy lingerie as well as a dress.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

"Very much so." you take out the dress and touch the silky material. "This dress is very revealing." you notice the opened back and the deep neck line that would definitely almost make your breasts fall out.

"I was counting on the fact that we celebrate here because you in that dress is for my eyes only." his eyes darken suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Let me get ready for our dinner then." you chuckle and make your way to the bathroom.

Hyunjin decides to wear the clothes he arrived in, since those were the only fancy clothing items he owned, and he thought it was kind of symbolic to put them on tonight.

You walk into your bedroom to find Hyunjin dressed and staring at the big box he was packed in, one you still didn't get rid of.

"Jinnie?" you call out as he seems to be deep in thought.

"You kept the box." he says, still looking at it.

"I did. I had no idea what I was getting into so I left it just in case. I was gonna throw it out, it's just really heavy." you explain, making your way to him.

"When you arrived, two men had to carry the box in, and somehow the box seemed heavier than you. I barely managed to get it into the closet. Had to push it and stuff. Sorry I didn't have the chance to get rid of it."

"It's okay, y/n. You don't have to apologize." he smiles as he turns towards you.

"Oh." a gasp leaves his lips as he sees you all dressed up for him.

"You like?" you smirk, winking at him.

"Mhm." he nods quickly. "You look stunning, my angel."

"Thank you, Jinnie. You look handsome."

His cheeks seem to become more red with the praise as he mutters, his eyes darting left and right.

You enjoy your dinner together, romantic music playing in the background, the tv mute, left on just from the habit of it.

After you finish eating, you migrate to the couch to cuddle and drink wine, some stupid show playing on the screen and the two of you jokingly read from the character's lips, making up nonsensical conversations and laughing.

After some time and some more wine, Hyunjin becomes even more handsy than usual, grabbing at your thighs, sliding his hands on the silky material of the dress.

You melt into him, kissing him as your arms wrap around his shoulders, your tongues languidly massaging each other as your core throbs with need.

Hyunjin caresses you gently, his hands worshipping you, sliding down your throat, to your collarbone, to the swell of your breasts, down to your stomach and waist, landing on your hips.

His lips attach to your neck as he leaves wet kisses on your skin, licking at it and sinking his teeth in.

"Mm." you moan, playing with his hair as he kisses your collarbone and the flesh of your breast, leaving another love bite on the soft skin.

His hands travel under your dress, roaming around on your legs and your eyes open, landing on the tv, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin, that's you!" you jolt, pointing at the screen.

"Huh?" he mumbles, already drunk on you.

You quickly grab the remote and turn on the sound.

"...seemingly the dolls have some kind of malfunction that the company does not wish to reveal to the public. All eight of the purchased dolls are required to be returned and the buyers will get their money back, guaranteed. The customers will be contacted accordingly..."

"M-my friends. I vaguely remember them." Hyunjin breathes quickly, you can see that he's getting upset quickly. "They wanna take me away from you."

"I won't let them." you quickly shake your head.

"What are we gonna do?" he asks, clenching his fists and you gently grab his hands, trying to soothe him.

"We're gonna... leave."

"Leave?"

"Yeah, I have a house my aunt left me up in the mountains. I don't think they can find us there. For now, until we think of where to go next." you start planning immediately.

There was no way you would let anyone take Hyunjin away from you.

"But, what about your job? And your things?" Hyunjin bites on his lip.

"I don't care. All I care about right now is making sure you're safe." you smile at him, your hand coming up to caress his cheek.

Hyunjin smiles, leaning into your touch and wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you." he whispers into your hair.

You get a call from an unknown number the next day, but one quick google search tells you it's the company Hyunjin came from.

You packed one bag of a few essential things you'd need, leaving most of your belongings behind.

"Y/n! There's a black van posted outside. It's been there for hours. They're looking at the building right now." Hyunjin announces and you make your way to the window, half hiding behind him.

"We need to use the fire exit." you declare and Hyunjin nods as he turns to you.

"I won't let them take you. I promise." you hold his hands.

"I trust you, my angel." he smiles and you kiss him gently before the two of you exit the building, quickly entering your car.

You step on the gas, and reach out to hold Hyunjin's hand in yours.

As you speed off into the sunset, hoping for a better tomorrow, a black van rounds the corner, following you from afar...

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @lixies-favorite-cookie

[azullumi]

LOSER IN LOVE ? NAH, I’D WIN !!

a guide to being in a relationship with your local chrysos heir, phainon | established relationship, fluff, boyfriend headcanons, phainon is the sweetest ever, this is my coping mechanism after all that angst | wc: 1.2k

note from me — tweaking so bad i wrote this in an hour while waiting for maintenance

Give it up for the world’s greenest flag ever, even the most lustrous and beautiful of grass would be put to shame in front of him. No one will ever be the nameless hero, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.

You never have to beg nor plead in front of him, he’ll let the world roll on your feet if it needs to. He’ll give you anything that you ask for or even mention in passing; that one vase you think is cool even though it won’t match your furniture? Bought and delivered to your door by yours truly. How about that dumb painting that looks funny but is too expensive? Yeah, he bargained like a professional. You want his door? Sure, go ahead, he doesn’t need that—oh, you were joking?

Sometimes it becomes too much that you have to tell him, “…And no, I don’t need it. I just like seeing it.” Or whatever you could come up with just to stop the gears of his mind from turning.

IS GOOD WITH KIDS !! He’s so well-known in the small community of children for how understanding and amazing he is, how he’s able to easily get along with them (even the grumpest ones), as he is able to catch up with their tricks and games. Other than that, they also know how he’s so in love with you. Like deeply in love with you even the children know it—some of them are disgusted (because cringe, ew, what is love?) and some listen to him talk about you with a sparkle in their eyes.

You didn’t even have to introduce yourself to them, they already know who you are. They know you before you know them, they have seen you despite never having met you. “Mister Phainon said that you have stars in your eyes and that not even the greatest of bards can compare to the melodies of your voice! He also said your hair is—“ The little girl is stopped by the snow-haired man beside you, a nervous chuckle slipping past his lips. Are you embarrassed, ashamed, angry, or none of those things? Nevertheless, he gets a pinch on his cheek as he surrenders, both hands up in the air. Apologies slipped past his lips, compliments smoothly mixed into it: “I’m so sorry, you’re just so lov—OW!”

HORRENDOUS FASHION TASTE, however. You are not Lady Aglaea, but you have the eyes to see and judge the atrocity of combination presented and worn by your lovely boyfriend. “Take it off.” You say, and he blushes like a virgin who’s finally getting it: “W-Wait, we possibly can’t do it, not when there’s people around.” NOT LIKE THAT!! The redness of your face covered by your palms is all he sees. Oh dear, you know he wishes to simply wear all his favorite colors at once, but at this rate, he’ll look like a walking decorative pine tree meant to represent the spirit of holidays.

On the topic of clothes, the two of you match often. Colors, patterns, and everything that you can, and sometimes, it’s not limited to clothes. Bracelets, necklaces that spell out each other’s initials, teleslate charms, wallpapers, and everything. You and him are like pieces of puzzles that are meant to complete each other, because it really is like that. You and Phainon are the embodiment of one another, tangled in the strings, destinies carved by the sun to be together, hearts burned to beat into one.

SPARRING MATCHES AND FRIENDLY COMPETITIONS which always end up giggles and fits of laughter. In play-wrestling, he often lets you win, allowing you to to tackle him to the ground while you grin above him, teasing him of his title and his strength. “Oh, yeah?” Is all he says before your world spins and your positions are now reversed.

Beyond those things, he is the type to serenade you in the kitchen while humming or under the moonlight when the stars are watching. The type to have your date already planned to every detail and only tells you that you just have to show up (he’ll pick you up even). The type to give you your favorite flowers even though you never told him. The type to leave notes all over your home, letting you play into some scavenger hunt game until you end up in his arms, right where you belong. The type to be overly worried and anxious whenever he has to leave, knowing that it could take a long time and he might not see you for days, so he entrusts you into the hands of his trusted friends—“Phainon had asked me to bring this to you, he mentioned you were craving for it.” ; “Snowy asked us to ensure that you’re eating well!” ; “Here, it will help you fall asleep and he says you will need it the most.”

It’s stupid, and it makes you more fearful, and he has to reassure and comfort you through tears when he has come home because it felt like he wasn’t going to. “You made it feel like you’re going to die!” You sob, smacking his chest and he accepts it—your pain, anger, sadness, everything, he’ll take it.

Kisses? Showering you with it always, especially when the both of you are alone. He loves it when you do the same for him too—stain him with the marks of your affection, won’t you? Additionally, he likes to kiss you and interrupt each of your every word until it dissolves on his tongue and you give in to his warmth.

Hands? All over you already. It is for sure that physical touch along with acts of service ranks the highest on his love language chart. Your hands are always intertwined with his, he would always give you pats or ruffle your hair into a mess because he likes to tease you, and he lingers so close to you that your shadows might as well fuse.

On the mention of acts of service, he’s always at the beck and call for you. Think like Ken’s Barbie senses except it’s Phainon (and his ahoge is his antenna). He senses a disturbance in the air? He’s there already; pure exaggeration, but it feels like that often. “I know you can do it but allow me to help you because I want to,” he’ll say to you, a gentle reassurance, after you insisted that you don’t need his assistance and you don’t want to burden him. He likes it when you rely on him but he will still adore you the same if you wish not to.

Jealousy? Who even dares to mess with you, or him?

Nicknames? There’s a lot. Endearing ones, especially. His partner, his lovely sun, his dearest buddy, his comrade, his, his, and only his. Always dear to him.

It’s not hard to find comfort in him, even the mere presence and thought that he’s here, that you’re here, that you have him is enough to ease the tension on your shoulders. He is warm, you are warm in his arms, enveloping yours as if he’s shielding you from all the harm this world will bring to you. It feels as if knowing you is something easy and small for him—understanding the cracks of your skin, mended together by softness, tracing them like constellations, cradling you all the same because it is yours.

He simply adores the smile he gets to put on your face or the laughter that bubbles from your throat. It’s something he’ll never forget, deeply engraved into the corners of his mind, the essence of yourself tainting the edges as if you’ve become a part of his soul.

He’ll never forget and wishes he never had to.

© AZULLUMI. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.

[imaginesleeping]

Idk if you do smut but if you do then I would like to request some overstim with Sevika if not that’s okay too <3

All Night Long

authors note: I haven’t written smut in quite some time, so I’m a little rusty lol. I wrote this for f!reader, so hopefully this is what you were looking for anon! Feel free to send more reqs <3

-

“Vika…please fuck-“

You lost track of time a while ago. Sevika had you folded on the bed, her arm pinning both of your legs to your chest as she laps at your pussy like a starved woman. You’re a moaning mess beneath her, not being able to do much of anything except squirm in this position.

What was supposed to be a casual night at The Last Drop turned out to be a night Sevika took upon herself to drive you crazy. She had been a tease all night, being so affectionate while still leaving you right on the edge. Quick kisses on your lips and neck, flesh hand never leaving either your thigh or waist, and a silky voice whispering countless compliments in your ear. It was insufferable, so when you had the opportunity to you leaned in

“If you don’t take me home right now I’m gonna fuck you in the middle of this bar.”

That seemed to do the trick.

“Can’t….too much Sev….”

“Cmon, doll. I thought this is what you wanted?” She says tauntingly

Orgasm after orgasm was making the pleasure start to become overbearing, and you no longer had control of your hips as they bucked up into her mouth haphazardly.

Your moans become breathier and high pitched, your cunt pulsing against her tongue. Sevika moans as she starts to suck on your clit and that sends you over the edge all over again.

“Ah…ha oh fuck…” you drag out, cumming again and squirting.

Sevika groans against you and continues to lick and suck up all of your juices until you shove her face away. She lets go of your legs and wipes your cum from her face onto the back of her hand as she sits herself up, still staring at your pussy like it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever laid her eyes on (it is).

She brings her hand down to gently rub in between your folds before giving your cunt a light smack which makes you squeak and jolt up. She chuckles lowly at the sight and you groan.

She leans down to give a quick kiss to your knee before coming up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

She lays beside you while you come back down to reality, softly moving her hand up and down your side or tracing lazy patterns on your hip, and gives your forehead a kiss when you snuggle yourself closer to her.

“Let me go run you a bath. How’s that sound, pretty girl?”

You hum and nod your head but reach your hand out to stop her from moving.

“Sit on my face first.” You say softly. This earns a breathy laugh from Sevika.

“Don’t worry abou-“

“Sevika, sit on my face”

She stares at you for a moment before cracking that beautiful smile of hers.

“Well how could I say no to that?”

[missadangel]

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 11: Favorite Crime

prev chapter series masterlist next chapter

Chapter Summary: It's hard to end things when you still have feelings for him. Neither of you handle it well. So instead, you both give in to the undeniable attraction that lingers between you. Good or bad? You don't care at all when you're in his arms. Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Chapter Word Count: 11,2k,HOT (SMUT) CHAPTER ALERT!!, even I'm surprised what just I wrote okay?no I don't feel guilty, shameless smut, sexual tension, jealousy, love, fingering, feelings, fluffy, rom-com, lust, passion, dirty talk, oral sex, multiple orgasms, cream-pie, fighting... authors note: changed the main moodboard according the rest of the story hope you like :) Thank you all for your support, asks, comments, reblogs and likes. I appreciate each and every one of you! Love you all!

Tuesday

11:08 A.M.

"Okay, now take a deep breath, sit back, and start from the beginning. Tell me everything happened that night, Mr. Castillo."

Harry followed his therapist's advice, crossing his legs and leaning back in the couch. After straightening his jacket and settling in, he exhaled deeply and began to tell his story. His gaze drifted out of the tall glass window, taking in the cityscape as he spoke. "That night, I was waiting for my food at the restaurant when I spotted her. She was out on a date with that guy, Theo. Although they were quite a distance away, I noticed them immediately—among the crowd."

The therapist adjusted her glasses with her index finger and met Harry's gaze. "How many times have you run into her since you broke up?"

"Three," he replied quickly. "That night was the third time."

After jotting down a note in her notebook, the therapist asked, "And how did you feel when you saw her?"

Harry’s gaze drifted from the floral pattern of the wallpaper to the fresh flowers on the coffee table, a hint of a smile beginning to form on his lips as he responded. "She was gorgeous. She always is. Honestly, I think she gets more beautiful each time I see her. It sounds silly, but she really does. She looked incredible,” he sighed deeply, “In that black dress with the mini floral print, her hair curled just for the occasion, light makeup, and of course, her unique smile."

"Mr. Castillo," the therapist interjected with a slight frown, still observing the dreamy look on Harry's face. "I asked how did you feel."

Harry cleared his throat. “Oh, right. Well, it’s tough to get this out, but...”

“Why not give it a try with a few simple words?” the therapist encouraged.

"Okay. Um, excited, stunned, unlucky, angry, lost, sad, and hurt," Harry's voice trailed off with each word.

The therapist noted his words and then looked up at Harry. “Can you tell me why you picked those words?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I was excited to see her, as I always am. Stunned because she looked so amazing, it took my breath away. Unlucky, because I wasn’t the one she was out with." Sitting up straighter, he fidgeted more, grappling with his emotions. “Angry, because I feel responsible for losing her,” he said, almost trying to convince himself. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees and buried his face in his hands. “I feel so lost without her—like my life has no purpose—and I’m really sad and hurt because of it.”

This time, the therapist wrote a slightly longer note before placing her notebook on the coffee table. She tilted her head and asked, "Mr. Castillo, do you think you specifically chose that restaurant that night?"

Harry pulled his hands away from his face and met her eyes, guilt clearly visible on his face.

He didn't need to answer.

The therapist took a deep breath. "Listen, this behavior isn’t healthy, and you’re the one who will suffer the most. My advice would be to keep your distance from her. It’ll be much harder to deal with your other issues if you don’t.”

Harry frowned, bewildered at how he could possibly stay away from the woman he loved. "But we agreed to sort things out between us," he replied with a shrug.

"You say you went there to talk on the night she was on a date with someone else?"

Harry looked away, pressing his lips together tightly.

The therapist leaned back slightly in her chair. “So, I take it you weren’t able to have that conversation after all.”

Harry fell silent, his eyes drifting away from the window again.

Though he didn’t answer, the therapist read something in his expression. It was crucial to delve deeper, so she pressed on. “Mr. Castillo, did anything else happen that night?”

“Like what?” he retorted, adjusting his tie.

“Like something you might be avoiding telling me,” she suggested.

Harry hesitated, recalling that night while calculating his response.

The night before…

8:45 P.M.

To your surprise, the restaurant wasn't the average spot you expected; it was actually quite luxurious and expensive. This was the kind of place the wealthy folks of Manhattan would choose for their dinner dates, making it just the right spot for a first outing. You were puzzled, though, because Theo, an actor with a talent agency, didn’t seem to have the kind of income that would allow him to pick such a lavish venue. So why had he brought you here? Your dress certainly wasn’t designer or expensive, unlike the things Harry used to buy for you.

Even with all those thoughts swirling around, you couldn’t help but feel like you actually fit in here. Theo’s eyes glued to you but he was cute. The night was going pretty well, even if you were basically dragged into it by Zoe’s relentless nudging.

Okay.

Theo was charming and undeniably attractive, with his light auburn hair and striking green eyes, yet he just didn't seem to be your type. As the evening unfolded, you found yourself engaging in conversation about your interests. It seemed you had several things in common, but deep down, you still wanted the night to wrap up sooner rather than later.

"Zoe mentioned you were with Harry Castillo, but I hear it’s over now,” he said.

Just hearing his name sent your heart racing, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Yeah... that’s right,” you muttered, turning your gaze away.

Theo’s eyes darted to a table in the far corner of the restaurant. “Is it really all over between you two?"

That question hit hard.

You took another sip of your drink to steady yourself. “Of course, it’s over,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“For you, maybe. But I think he doesn’t see it that way.”

You turned your head toward where he was looking, and your heart nearly dropped when you spotted Harry.

He was casually eating, feigning ignorance, but you knew him too well to be fooled.

It was too suspicious.

This couldn’t be just a coincidence.

Deep inside, you knew that he still had feelings for you, just as you clung to those same emotions for him, no matter how hard you tried to dismiss them. For a brief second, the thought of abandoning Theo and making your way over to Harry enveloped you.

It was just a quick moment, but it was packed with a lot of feelings.

You turned back to Theo when your eyes locked with Harry's. You nervously tangled your fingers in your hair and began to shake your leg, a telltale sign of your anxiety that he knew all too well.

A little smile appeared on his face, and he took a sip of his drink, clearly enjoying the way he was bothering you.

“I think it’s just a coincidence,” you said, forcing a dismissive smile.

“It’s a pretty strange coincidence that of all the restaurants, he’s here on the same night as us,” Theo pointed out.

“Are you suggesting that Harry is doing this on purpose?” you asked, not pretending to be indignant, although deep down, that was exactly what you believed. You weren’t ready for any awkward tension, and you didn’t want Theo to dig too deeply into Harry’s motives, even if they were questionable.

“Forget it. Where were we?” he said, reaching out for your hand.

You didn’t like the way he held it, but you allowed it anyway. “You were sharing your story about the first time you came to New York.”

“Right," he said, smiling, taking a quick glance back at Harry before continuing his story.

But the night felt off, overshadowed by Harry’s presence. When you finally excused yourself to the ladies' room, you stole a glance at Harry. He caught your eye, and you felt a familiar tension until you were out of the dining area. Once in the restroom, you pulled out your phone and sent Harry a text.

"Restroom. Now."

A few minutes later, Harry showed up with that big grin of his. “Are you having a boring night, darling?”

You crossed your arms, feeling a mix of annoyance and nervousness. "Harry, what are you doing here? How did you even find out I was here? Who told you? And why?"

"Which question do you want me to answer first?"

You squinted at him. "Seriously, Harry? Just tell me why you’re here."

He rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated by the curious looks from others nearby. Then he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to wiggle free.

“We need to talk somewhere private.”

“I’m on a date, you know that,” you insisted.

“Just five minutes.”

Harry led you into one of the restaurant's private VIP rooms and closed the door behind you. It was cozy, meant for special meetings or romantic dinners, but being alone with him made you uneasy.

“Start talking,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That night you caught me at the airport... You mentioned that we would discuss our relationship later."

You stayed quiet, and he stepped closer, tilting his head to figure out your expression.

"But we still haven’t talked about it; it’s been almost a week. That day, what happened in the elevator—” 

“Let’s not go there. You promised,” you interrupted.

He sighed. "You've been even colder to me since then. And how do you think it feels to see you on a date with that guy, Theo?"

"It's really none of your business," you snapped.

He moved in closer. “Come on, you don’t actually want to go back to that table. You’re just itching for the night to end, aren’t you?”

Damn, it was like he could read your mind.

Then, without warning, he took your hand. “Did it feel like this when he touched you?” Your heart started racing as he pressed his lips against your knuckles, so slow and deliberate.

Despite your better judgment, you couldn’t help but hold his gaze. He kept staring into your eyes as he slid his lips down to your wrist, sending sparks straight to your heart.

Of course it didn't feel the same way.

How could it?

He was the only one who could make you feel like this—like you belonged to him only, filled with a sense of longing and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He was right—you wanted him, and no one else.

Damn.

You were treading dangerous waters again.

You pulled your hand back. "Harry, what do you want from me?"

"Let's talk, just like we said we would. Can’t you spare me a couple of hours?"

I’d give you all the time I have left if you hadn’t broken my heart, you thought.

“Do you really think talking will fix everything?”

“I’ll give it a try, at least. What about you?" he asked, his puppy dog eyes locked onto yours as he ran his fingers through your hair, taking in your scent. “I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be mine again.” He then kissed the strands of hair in his hand, which made your heart melt.

For a moment, all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and say you forgave him—almost.

“There’s an event at the bakery coming up, so I’ll be pretty busy this week,” you said softly.

You could see his expression drop.

Oh great, it felt like you were breaking him, and it hurt you too.

“If you’d like to meet up, I’ll be at the bakery tonight whipping up some sauces,” you said, eager for a chance to make him smile again, hoping he wouldn’t notice your enthusiasm.  “I guess I can talk while I work.”

A grin spread across Harry’s face as he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be there, baby.”

You blinked at him, surprised.

Harry opened the door and caught your shocked expression, chuckling. "Aren't you going back inside? Your date might be wondering where you disappeared to."

Suddenly, you snapped back to reality and shook your head. “Um—right,” you stumbled as you headed back inside.

He watched you go, a smirk playing on his lips.

10:32 P.M.

After dinner, Theo insisted on taking you to the bakery, and you couldn't say no. The evening already wore on, but the prospect of making the sauce for tomorrow's desserts loomed large—if you could just whip up as much as possible by midnight, it would give you the time you needed. Theo was a genuinely nice guy; he didn’t even flinch when, during your first date, you had to mention your work and its demands, making the dinner brief yet enjoyable.

Still, your mind drifted to Harry.

All the things Theo had chatted about during the evening—even his interests you found appealing—paled in comparison to the brief moment you shared with Harry earlier.

Zoe, knowing you were going out for dinner, stayed at the bakery until closing time and pulled down the shutters. After checking them and locking the door from inside, you began preparing the sauces, convinced Harry would call if he showed up.

Of course, he did.

Just as you were about to finish making the sauce, your phone rang.

It was him.

You peeled off your gloves, tossed them in the trash, and made your way to the door. You smiled when you caught sight of him and he  was grinning as he held his phone up to his ear. You unlocked the door and swung it open. "Welcome, Mr. Castillo. You’re the only customer we allow after hours," you joked.

“Wow, how lucky I am,” he said, smiling.

"Welcome to The Vanilla Vine. What can I get for you?"

Harry laughed, “I had dinner at a restaurant a few hours ago, but the dessert was terrible. It’s never even close to what you make.”

You smiled, “I’m afraid we’re out of fresh desserts at this hour, but could you help me out by tasting the sauces I’ve prepared?”

"I'd love to," he said, removing his jacket and hanging it on a chair.

You tried to ignore the scent of his cologne that wafted over as he took off his jacket as you headed into the kitchen. You watched him while he tasted the sauces.

You sighed deeply.

He looked so damn handsome.

Then, you went to the fragrance cabinet, grabbed a bottle of something you thought he might enjoy and returned to the table.

"Looks like we’re out of pastries too, sorry. Zoe probably took the leftovers home. However, would you like me to pour you a drink instead?" you said, setting the bottle on the table in front of him.

He raised his eyebrows. "Bourbon?"

“Yeah, it’s not your favorite whiskey, but…” you murmured as you filled his glass.

He picked it up, swirled it, and took a sip. “Hmm, not bad.”

“My secret ingredient for the vanilla cream,” you said, sitting across from him. “It makes the best one. But shh, don’t tell anyone,” you added, putting your finger to your lips playfully.

Harry chuckled, "I won’t, I promise," he said, then downed the entire glass in one go, his expression suddenly serious as he leaned forward, looking intently at you.

He seemed to be gathering the right words. “Look, I…” He sighed, taking your hands in his, his eyes softening. “It’s so hard. You’re right here, but I can’t reach out to you like I used to. It’s tearing me apart. I know you need time, but can you at least reconsider--”

You swallowed hard and pulled your hands away. “The sauce was on the stove,” you said, getting up.

It was a poor excuse, but what else could you do?

That night keeps popping up in your mind, a memory that’s tough to shake. The hurt is still there, like a bruise reminding you of his sharp words. It’s hard to ignore the pain that wraps around you, that heavy feeling in your chest just won’t go away.

And you were scared.

Scared that if you had that conversation, it might be the end once and for all.

You didn't notice when Harry had quietly approached you while you were taking the sauce off the stove. In a sudden panic, you clumsily dropped the small pot. You took a step back, but a bit of the hot chocolate sauce splattered onto you, yet fortunately, it wasn't too hot, since you had melted it using the bain-marie method. When you yelped in surprise and pain, Harry rushed to pick you up and set you down by the sink, running cold water over the spot where the sauce had landed. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face as he examined the area. “Where did you burn?”

When he lifted the hem of your dress, you held your breath, feeling a mix of pain and tension rushing through you. Luckily, the injury was minor—just a first-degree burn. The cold water felt great, soothing the sting and making it easier to handle.

“It’s nothing, 'doesn’t hurt anymore. I have some ointment in my bag from last time,” you said, but he stopped you as you tried to rise from the counter.

“I’ll get it,” he insisted, turning to fetch your bag.

As the spot where the burn was started to throb, you instinctively began blowing on it. When Harry returned with your bag, he unzipped it and set it down on the counter, quickly finding the ointment. His hands were gentle as he carefully applied it to your wound.

You couldn’t help but gaze at his beautiful face.

Then he did something unexpected: he blew softly on the area, and it eased your discomfort as if by magic.

Or maybe it was because what you felt in that moment was greater than any pain.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding like a drum, threatening to burst from your chest. He detected the subtle shift in you instantly, observing how your body tensed, every muscle coiling with anticipation. It was in your breath, quickening and uneven, and especially in the fiery gleam of desire that lit up your eyes as they locked onto his. The air between you crackled with unspoken longing.

Pure lust.

With his hand still resting on your thighs, he closed the distance between you. You widened your eyes, blinking as he flashed a crooked smile before leaning in for a kiss. It was beyond anything you had expected; every nerve in your body ignited, and your heartbeat quickened, racing like a hummingbird's wings. His eager tongue slipped between your lips without hesitation, breaching the entrance as if seeking permission wasn’t even necessary.

Despite the magnetic pull, you attempted to break free, your fingers clutching the edge of the counter with a fierce intensity. Yet, without ever breaking the kiss, he encircled your waist with his other arm, drawing you nearer until your bodies collided in a rush of heat. In that moment, as the kiss ignited a wave of burning desire, you found yourself clinging to him as if holding on for dear life.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as he cupped your ass, scooping you up into his arms. The kiss intensified beyond imagination, transforming into an overwhelming hunger. Wrapping your legs around him, you tugged on his locks, prompting a deep, primal growl to ripple from his chest. With effortless strength, he shifted his hold, lifting you as he strode toward one of the leather sofas. In a moment of urgency, he shoved the nearby table aside, sending it skidding across the floor, before gently yet firmly seating you on the sofa, his dark brown eyes burning.

All the voices in your head screamed that logic told you to stop, that it wasn’t right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You felt defeated, completely consumed by desire. The only thing you could hear right now was the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the wet sounds you made as you kissed, and the drowning of your moans into each other’s mouths.

He kept devouring your mouth, swiftly began to loosen the shoulder straps of your dress. With a gentle pull, they slipped off, allowing the fabric to flow down and rest softly around your waist, while his skilled fingers expertly guided the way, touching your breasts.

He was quick to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking it mercilessly and loudly. Sharp whines left your throat as you thrashed and caressed him, grunting his name and mumbling sexy nonsense.

"Mmmm. Harry. Stop…Please...don’t go further... Fuck..."

But he just didn't hear you.

Instead, he turned to take another nipple between his lips and pushed the hand under your skirt and slipped it between your thighs feeling the wetness there. A small whine escaped your throat only urging him on. He then pushed aside your panties and ran a finger along your folds. Your fingers tugged at the roots of his hair while he was busy sliding your panties down your legs. The sweet scent of your arousal rose from between your bodies.

"Harry," you whimpered.

Were you begging him to stop, or to carry on?

Even you weren't sure anymore.

But he sure did.

"Shh, shh, it's okay baby," he whispered into your ear as he moved his fingers and tongue to bring pleasure to you.

He knew the ins and outs of your body, causing you to fall apart in his hands. You could feel a familiar heat rising in your lower stomach as he pushed a second finger in, making your eyes roll back.

When his lips detached from yours finally he moved to your neck, leaving small bites along your pulse point and jaw, then soothing them with his tongue. He dropped to his knees, continuing to kiss you as he pulled you to the edge of the sofa. He breathed in the sweet scent of your cologne, savoring it as he slid his lips lower and lower. He dropped soft, warm kisses along your thighs, taking his time around your wound. You moaned and bit your lower lip. Then his head was diving under your skirt for the sweet, wet treat of your throbbing pussy.

"Harry, please..." you whimpered again.

He hummed an agreement, gripping your thighs tightly as his tongue hungrily licked at your slit, teasing more husky moans out of you.

And you lost it.

Your body felt like it was on fire, burning wildly, legs were shaking like crazy. You found your fingers tangled in Harry's hair again as you clung on desperately.

With your upper-back up against the sofa, your groin pushed out towards him there was nothing to stop him from eating you out and so he didn't even try to resist, not at all, on the contrary he enjoyed it; so eagerly continuing to work your pussy and tasting your honey, his tongue coming up to tease your clit and making you groan out in pleasure.

However, he'd already been going at it for a couple minutes and his cock was rock hard, occasionally stimulated by a stroke or two, but frankly he was too engrossed in tonguing you to really get himself off. With a sense of urgency, he quickly peeled off his t-shirt and pants before moving on.

It didn't take long before you felt your orgasm approach, only to have his fingers and mouth leave you. You gave a pathetic whine as he hoisted you up with one arm while the other gripped your ass and gave it a good squeeze before planting passionate kisses all over your face. Your head lolled back against the leather sofa, as he adjusted himself and you. He smiled at your half-closed eyes, your slightly parted lips, and the rosy glow that colored your cheeks. Yet, this captivating sight only deepened his impatience.

He was hard as hell.

Hurriedly, he adjusted himself, seized your hips and slammed into you.

You gasped.

“Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so warm and tight baby. I missed this.”

Pulling almost all the way out of you, he thrust back into you, causing you to moan as you felt the drag of his cock against your walls.

As you looked at him again he gave you another crooked smile filled with appreciation and lust.

You realized you've missed him so much.

Soon all coherent thought was out the window as he started to pound into you, making your wrap your legs around his waist as tight as possible to keep him close. It felt so fucking good and you were barely aware of the world around you as his cock hit your sweet spot over and over.

You couldn't control your moans as he sent shocks of pleasure down your spin with each thrust. You didn’t care if anyone passing by heard or if the whole damn state heard, you didn't want this to end. He smirked tightly and pushed his face into your nape, kissing and nipping at your flesh hungrily between his hard thrusts.

Harry then leaned close to your ear, hot breath causing you to shiver. You were going to come and he knew it.

"Come for me baby... just let go."

And you did.

Everything went white as your orgasm hit you like a train. An earthquake of pleasure shooting through you causing you to slump against the soft leather. He was straining to keep his thrusts steady as his hips stuttered. You adjusted and leaned into him, gripping his head and making him look at you as his hips snapped.

Once more, Harry kissed you; his hands groped your ass and his muscles tensed, his vision got blurry as the only thing he could sense was the pleasure, threatening to unfold and your sweet voice on his lips. Your velvety folds hugged him so perfectly and your juices generously coated his cock, making for the erotic melody of wet sounds and the ones of skin slapping skin with each of his rough thrusts which brought him dangerously close to his high sooner than he anticipated and the clench of your plush walls around him was enough to send him over the edge. Hot loads of cum coated your pussy. "Oh, God!" you screamed as you came once again, burning in overstimulation as he kept thrusting, riding out both of your highs until his thrust got sloppy and he slowed his pace.

For a few moments, that felt like eternity, you two stayed intertwined, catching your breaths as you came down from your climaxes.

Exchanging incredulous glances, he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

A simple gesture that radiated warmth and deep affection.

As you started to grasp what just happened, and your breathing slowed down, it hit you hard that what you were doing just felt totally wrong all over your body. He gently pulled out and grabbed a couple of tissues from the table, cleaning both of you up. You straightened your dress and tidied your hair. He picked up his clothes from the floor, zipped himself up, and adjusted his outfit before tossing the used tissues in the trash.

An awkward silence filled the air between you. Embarrassed, you looked away as Harry's gaze lingered on you. "What have we done?" you whispered.

He crossed his arms, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "We just fucked, baby."

You shot him a glare. “Exactly, why did we do that? It feels so wrong.”

He moved closer, sitting next to you and brushing your hair back gently. "Why is it wrong? There’s no one else in our lives—we’re not cheating anyone, and the love is still there."

"But we’re not together, Harry. Have you forgotten how we ended things? I can’t just wipe that night from my memory. Something broke inside me then, and it’s not the same. I can’t look at you like I once did."

He shook his head, his brows furrowed. "Don’t say that, please."

You picked your panties up from the floor and stood, trying to shake off the tension. "I really need to go home."

In a sudden burst of anger, Harry grabbed your arm. "Are you really going to act like this night didn’t happen? That beautiful moment we shared? Because I can’t just forget that."

"Harry," you muttered.

He didn’t respond; instead, he picked up his jacket from the chair. “It’s late, so let me drive you home. I’ll be waiting for you in the car," he said, avoiding your gaze as he left the shop, the door closing softly behind him.

Wait...

Was he hurt?

Present day. 

12:45 P.M. 

Oliver was sitting in the car, going through stock prices on his tablet and checking out Harry's schedule for the week. The door opened, and Harry hopped in next to him, looking all tense. Oliver immediately asked, “How did it go?” 

Harry signaled the driver to hit the road, staring out the window as he said, “Cancel all my appointments with the therapist.” 

Oliver frowned. “Was it really that bad?” 

Harry remained silent, distractedly reviewing the details of an upcoming meeting on his tablet, ignoring the question. 

Oliver sighed and started tweaking his own schedule. “I thought talking to the therapist would help you out.” 

Harry flipped the tablet upside down on his lap and shot him a look. “She told me to cut everything off and remove her from my life entirely. Can you believe that?” 

“Maybe that’s what you both need,” Oliver suggested carefully. 

Harry glared at him. “Just because she's a therapist doesn’t mean she’s always right.” 

“Maybe you didn’t tell her everything?” 

Harry grabbed the tablet again, brushing off the discussion. “Like I said, I don’t need a damn therapist. Just cancel it,” he snapped, feigning interest in the meeting details.

But actually, his mind was swimming in memories of the heated moments you had shared together, craving to relive those feelings once more and have another chance to do so.

12:59 P.M. 

A few streets away… 

The bakery buzzed with activity as customers indulged in the pastries you had lovingly baked that morning, sipping their coffee or tea. Meanwhile, you were busy making final checks for the evening’s organization. Sitting at the counter, you noticed that you were absently writing the same phrase on the same line in your notebook, lost in thought. 

Your gaze kept drifting to ‘that’ leather sofa in the corner of the shop. Luckily, the customers lounging there weren’t looking your way, or they might’ve thought you were staring at them. But it was hard to shake off the memory of those steamy moments with Harry from the other night. 

That moment... 

That surrender... 

No matter how hard you tried to focus on your work, those memories were imprinted in your mind, making your heart race. 

“Oh, are you kidding?” 

You turned at the sound of Zoe’s voice, her tone laced with surprise or anger. Part of you hoped Harry might make a surprise visit to the bakery, but when you caught sight of Melanie, your heart sank.

What was she doing here? 

What stood out the most wasn’t just her surprising appearance, but rather the way she was dressed. Normally, she would be seen in short, designer dresses that screamed luxury, but today she opted for something much more modest that concealed her figure.

“What the hell are you doin' here?” you asked, approaching her. 

She glanced around. “Is this how you greet your customers?” 

“Melanie Johnson doesn’t just go to any ordinary bakery; so I'm quite surprised.”

Rolling her eyes, she shot back, “Okay, I’m not here to order anything. I heard you were looking for a waitress.” 

Zoe opened her eyes wide, and you let out a disbelieving laugh. “You? A waitress? That’s rich.”

“Honestly, why do you want to be a waitress?” Zoe asked.

“I want to work,” Melanie insisted.

You squinted, leaning closer. “But you’re a spoiled little slut.” 

Zoe stifled a laugh. 

First, Melanie looked annoyed, but then a nervous smile crept onto her face, mixed with a look of false sadness. “Oh please, you’re so cruel with your words. I’m a reformed Christian. I’ve wholeheartedly accepted God’s forgiveness and have been cleansed of my sins.” 

You and Zoe exchanged incredulous glances before turning back to Melanie. As Zoe darted away to attend to a customer, you leaned in closer to her. “Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I see right through this innocent act.” 

In an instant, Melanie’s demeanor shifted, and she stepped closer, gazing up at you with a knowing look. “Listen to me, you little know-it-all bitch, I need this job to win back my dad’s trust, and you’re going to help me, okay?” 

A smile crept onto your face as you recognized her true colors. “Melanie, I've put up with your antics for too long. Your dad kicked me out, and you came barging into my life, and almost forcing me to dance at a strip club because of you. And now you think you can waltz into my bakery and ask for a job? What’s wrong with you? Didn’t I make it clear you need to stay away from me and my life?” 

“Oh, come on. I was like a prisoner in that religious camp; my only escape was to act ‘purified’ enough for my dad to believe it. Now he wants me to get a job. So what if I’m a disaster? I promise I won’t hurt anyone,” she pleaded, building up her innocent act again. 

“Do you honestly think being a waitress is as easy as you think?” 

“If that idiot can do it, so can I,” she said, pointing to Nick, who was struggling with a tray. 

You sighed heavily. “No, Melanie. Tell your father to find you a proper job at his company. I don’t want you here.” You turned away, hoping to end the conversation. 

“Is that your final answer?” 

You glanced back at her, firm in your stance. “No, my final answer is: G.E.T. L.O.S.T.” you spelled.

A mischievous smile crept across her face as she pulled out her phone. “You brought this on yourself.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Some folks call it blackmailing.” 

“Blackmailing?” 

She turned her phone toward you, and your face revealed a blend of shock and disbelief. It was the video of you and Harry entering the shop that night.

“What the fuck? But how the hell--?"

"What’s going on? Is everything okay?" Zoe approached you, concern in her eyes, but you panicked and grabbed Melanie’s hand that was holding the phone, hiding it from her.

“Nothing,” you replied, forcing a nervous grin. Quick to act, you pulled Melanie along with you, getting outside.

“What the hell? Are you some kind of creep?”

“It’s called evidence.”

“Evidence of what? And why should I be worried about it?”

“I know you two aren’t together anymore,” she said with a cruel smirk. “Imagine what Zoe would think if she found out what happened that night, or Theo for that matter.”

“What makes you think we did anything? We just talked,” you lied, your throat tight. “And it’s none of your business, you sneaky little bitch. Besides, Zoe would understand and there’s nothing between Theo and me, so you can’t scare me with that.”

“Hmmm, then I’ll just leak it to the paparazzi. Just need to send the video to Nate’s agency,” she said, opening her chat screen. "Isn't it interesting to wonder why billionaire Harry Castillo would be at his ex's bakery late at night with the shutters pulled down? Now that’s a story that would send ripples through every blog and magazine online.”

“You!” you shouted, lunging to grab the phone from her. But she pulled her hand back just in time.

“Do we have a deal?”

“I hate you, Melanie,” you said, gritting your teeth.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she grinned, sauntering back into the shop.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I swear, I’m going to kill her one day,” you growled, cheeks burning.

19:39 P.M.

The evening event went smoothly, and the guests seemed pleased. It felt like a small promotional gathering. Your signature dessert was sampled by a well-known gourmet who awarded it full marks. Those were the highlights; the downside was that Melanie and Nick were disastrous as waitstaff, as expected. Thankfully, you managed to save the day. Guests left feeling satisfied, and a few mentioned they would be reaching out soon for an interview about the shop. Zoe informed you that she was heading to New Jersey tonight to meet with John's family and would return late, leaving you responsible for tidying up the shop. While cleaning up after Melanie and Nick's departure, your phone buzzed with a notification about an entry into your bank account. To your surprise, your landlord refunded the second month’s rent you had sent earlier that morning. Confused, you wondered if it was a mistake, so you tapped his name on your phone and called him.

His response left you stunned.

“I’m no longer the owner of the shop. I sold it, and the new owner wanted to acquire the space along with its contents, so there's no need for you to move.”

The first name that popped into your head was, of course, Harry. You quickly searched for his contact and called him. Coincidentally, he was already on his way to visit you and chuckled when he saw your name pop up on his phone screen. The phone rang just twice before he answered, his voice teasingly playful. “Hey baby. Can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Cut it out. Why did you do that?”

“Can you be a little more specific when you say that, darling? I mean, thinking about last time, I thought you enjoyed it,” he said with a cheeky laugh. “Or are you looking for more?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to resist the urge to smile.

He wasn’t entirely wrong; you did want more.

The idea of being with him every moment only deepens your longing for his presence; no matter how much time you share, it always feels too short.

You find yourself missing him every single second.

Noticing your quietness, he playfully asked, “Or are you just wishing for a little phone sex?”

You sighed, gathering your thoughts before you spoke again. “Harry, I’m referring to the shop. Don’t dodge the question.”

“What’s up with the shop? I’m not really getting your point.” His tone changed from fun to serious. “I’m on my way, though; we can talk when I get there.”

Just then, the shop door opened, and your heart dropped as you recognized the person walking in.

It was Alan.

And that’s when you noticed the smug smile spreading across his face, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

“Well, hello gorgeous,” he said, scanning the space. “Nice bakery you’ve got here.”

Harry overheard Alan’s voice on the phone. “Is that—”

Enraged, you hung up, your eyes locked onto Alan as you stood frozen in place, a wave of nausea washing over you at the memory of your last encounter.

“What are you doing here?” you managed to ask, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Alan stepped closer. “I’ve missed you; it’s been a while.”

Was he fuckin' serious?

You turned your gaze away. “Is that so? Well, I never missed you, and I have no desire to see you again.”

He chuckled arrogantly. “Bad news for you, honey; you’re going to be seeing me a lot more. I own the shop now.”

His timing made sense, and you weren’t shocked.

“Why would you do that? We only had a deal, and it’s over between us. There’s nothing left but animosity.”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to make up for the past.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed and took another step closer, his demeanor serious. “My feelings for you were genuine; I never lied about that, although I can’t say I’m proud of my actions.”

“There’s no excuse for what you did,” you said, your voice icy while anger coursed through you.

He eyed you up and down. “Regardless, I went ahead with it. It helped pull you away from Harry and show you his true colors.”

“What are you talking about? Just because I might break up with him doesn’t mean I’d ever give you a chance.”

“You will, eventually,” he said with a cheeky grin.

You locked eyes with him. “If I had ten hearts, I still wouldn’t give you even one.”

He laughed, a furious sound. “I told you, I always get what I want. Maybe not today, but someday. Remember how I made you to come to me that night willingly?”

You swallowed hard, still feeling that awful sensation coursing through our veins.

At that moment, you heard the screech of car brakes, and then Harry barged into the shop. Your heart raced as he stepped inside. He threw a quick glance your way, then locked eyes with Alan, grabbing him by the throat. "You asshole. I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Harry!” you wailed, rushing to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him. He had a firm grip on Alan's throat, his fury boiling over. “What the hell do you still want from her?” he roared, shaking Alan by the collar before landing a punch squarely on his face. Alan crumpled onto a nearby table, sending everything on it crashing to the floor.

He touched his hand to his face, noticing the blood that coated his fingers. “You are the one who should die Castillo!” he barked.

In a panic, you screamed as he stood up and punched Harry back. “Harry!” you yelled, sprinting to his side. A small cut marked the corner of his lip. “Stop! Enough, or I’ll call the police!” you pleaded.

Suddenly, Alan's man and Harry's driver burst into the shop, rushing to break up the fight.

Ed stepped forward to protect Harry, while another guy placed his hand on Alan's chest to hold him back. You took hold of Harry's arm as his anger flared, then wrapped your arms around him to help soothe his temper. “Please, let him go. Just stop,” you begged.

As Alan staggered out of the shop with his man's assistance, he smoothed out his mangled collar and shot a threatening look at Harry, pointing a finger at him. “This isn’t over, Castillo.”

Harry glared back, defiance etched on his face. “Go ahead and try your worst. But first, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you pay for what you’ve done!”

Finally, Alan left and you exhaled in relief. You turned to face Harry, sighed and softly touched the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You are in your 40s, but you’re acting like high school kids sometimes.”

Harry turned to his driver. “Thanks, Ed. Wait in the car; I’ll be out in a minute.” He then pulled out a chair and sat down, pressing his palm to his mouth. “Why did he come here?” he asked, anger still simmering.

“He's the one who bought the shop,” you muttered, straightening the table.

Harry scowled. “What did you just say? That greedy old bastard. I offered to pay rent for the next three months upfront. How could he turn me down and take Alan's offer instead?” he grumbled.

You narrowed eyes at him. “Three months’ rent? Who told you to do that?”

Realizing he just messed up, he gulped. “We’ve talked about this before,” he said quietly.

“Yes, before—before we broke up. You're not my boyfriend anymore, so I don’t need your help,” you said, removing your apron and hanging it on the coat rack.

“Maybe,” he said softly, following you. “But it was a deal, and it’s nothing compared to everything you’ve done for the company.”

You let out a sigh.

He continued in a more gentle tone, “You wouldn’t accept if I offered you some shares, would you?”

“Harry,” you said, shooting him a glare.

“I know you wouldn't. So I figured I’d at least help out at the shop. What’s wrong with that? However that sneaky bastard beat me to it.” He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Why don’t I find you another shop? I don’t want you stuck working in his place,” he said, scanning the surroundings.

“No need for that. He’s not going to kick me out. Everything’s above board,” you reassured him.

“It is, but…”

“Harry, let’s just drop it.”

“Well,” he said, curling his lip, and your attention caught on the corner of his mouth.

“Should we go to the hospital?” you asked.

“No, it’s just a small cut,” he said, gingerly touching the wound with his thumb.

You went to the first aid cabinet, grabbed what you needed, and returned to him. “Let me take a look,” you and took a seat across from him.

You poured alcohol onto a gauze pad and pressed it to his wound. The reddish mark stood out against his beautiful skin. As Harry’s gaze dropped to your lips, he leaned in, almost kissing you, but you managed to pull away just in time.

Undeterred, he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer. “Harry, don't.”

You found it hard to push him away since you were still holding the first aid kit. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around your waist and settled you onto his lap. “How’s your wound?” he asked, gently lifting your skirt.

You held your breath as he examined the area. Feeling his breath on your skin, “It’s healed now; it’s okay,” you replied nervously.

As his hand glided along your upper thigh, your heart raced uncontrollably. He locked eyes with you, slowly moving his knuckles from thigh to knee, clearly relishing the tension that washed over you. His lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, trying to hold on to your composure. "Hmm, you smell different today," he murmured, leaning in closer. You froze, your mind momentarily blank, all thoughts blocked out by the electricity of his touch.

"Orange blossom," you whispered, explaining the essence of your perfume. He buried his nose in your hair, his lips lightly tracing your earlobe, making you roll your eyes in sensation as you leaned against him. Opening your eyes, you found yourself craving his kiss, oblivious to the first aid kit that had slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor. Just as your lips were about to meet, the blaring sound of your phone startled you.

What the hell?

How did it come to this?

How did he manage to enchant you so easily?

Each time his fingers brushed your skin, you melted into his arms, like a button had been pressed to make you yield.

Every single fucking time.

He chuckled softly as you left his lap to check your phone. It was Zoe, calling to let you know she wouldn't be home tonight.

Harry stayed until you closed the shop, sampling your signature dessert and offering compliments while you cleaned the counter.

You accepted his offer to drive you home, a heavy silence settling in during the ride. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were. Upon arriving at your apartment building, you thanked him without stepping out of the car.

"You’ve never had me over," he said. 

"What should I invite you over for?" you replied. 

"Just as a friend," he shot back, trying to act all innocent. "Besides, we didn’t finish our last conversation."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I know what you're after, old man. No way."

"No, seriously," he insisted, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it. "The sooner we talk about this, the better, right? I can tell it’s weighing on your mind too."

He wasn’t wrong.

You realized that moving forward was impossible due to the lingering tension between you. Perhaps it was finally time to talk things out, right? 

"But promise me you won't cross any lines."

"When have I ever behaved inappropriately?"

"Should I start keeping track? We might not have enough time for that."

"C'mon, sweetheart. It’s you who practically threw yourself into my arms," he teased with a playful grin.

“You were the one who seduced me with your touch,” you said, leaning towards him.

“What? You’re the one who totally pulled me in. Do you even realize how enticing you are?” he said, leaning in closer.

"And what about you? Have you ever realized how hot you are?"

In that moment, as you both hovered just a kiss away from each other, your hearts raced in unison. The magnetic pull between you was almost too strong to ignore. Harry's driver acted like he wasn't eavesdropping on your chat, but the look on his face showed he totally was.

Regaining your composure, you opened the car door as if nothing had happened. “You can come up to my apartment if you’d like; I’ll offer you a drink,” you said, maintaining a steady tone.

Harry casually straightened his jacket, mirroring your demeanor. “That sounds good,” he replied nonchalantly as he opened his door. “Ed, you can head out. I’ll call you later.”

Ed smirked. “As you wish, Mr. Castillo.”

21:09 P.M.

As you climbed the stairs to your apartment, your heart raced faster with each step. Harry seemed impatient, you could feel his gaze on you. Taking your key out of your bag to unlock the door, you caught his eyes for a fleeting moment, and it felt like he was undressing you with his stare. A warmth spread through your belly and between your thighs as you unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and when you glanced at the screen, the name made your throat go dry.

Theo.

You closed the door behind you, missed the way Harry quickly scanned around before turning back to you, checking your ass. "Oh, crap. How did I forget? I promised Theo we’d watch a movie tonight at his place—" You were about to turn back to Harry when he suddenly pulled you toward him, crashing his lips against yours.

He kissed you with an intensity that caught you off guard as you instinctively tried to pull away, firmly sliding his tongue inside your mouth. He sensed your shiver, felt your surprise, and a growl of pleasure escaped him. Breaking the kiss, he shifted his attention to your neck, exposing your jugular, his tongue gliding over the pulsing flesh as he grazed his teeth against it, both lightly and yet hungrily.

“Harry,” you gasped, still clutching your phone as it rang insistently in your hand. “I really need to answer this.”

“No, you're not,” he said, his fingers gliding effortlessly from your shoulder to your wrist with one hand while the other slipped from your waist to your hips. You weren’t sure how it happened, but in a swift motion, he snatched the phone from your hand and tossed it  onto the couch, glancing at it briefly before turning his full attention back to you.

Harry’s hands dropped from your hips to the backs of your thighs, squeezing your flesh lightly. You hopped up instinctively, and he lifted you, holding you up with your legs around his waist. Your arms encircled his neck as he kissed you again, his mouth pressing against yours with more force than you could have hoped for. He forced your lips open, his tongue massaging yours fervently, before he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, elicting a soft groan from you. You could feel his cock hardening beneath you, straining against his suit.

From that moment on, neither of you cared about the phone or anything else, consumed by raw desire. You helped him shrug off his jacket, a hint of frustration and urgency in your movements, while Harry continued to kiss you.

“Bedroom?” he murmured between kisses.

You pointed toward the right and nodded, “That one.”

As the kiss deepened even more, Harry shifted with you still in his lap and rushed into your room, kicking the door shut behind you.

He tossed you onto the bed, making you breathless and your head spin. You didn’t mind at all. The rush always brought butterflies to your stomach and made your cheeks heat up, but it also left you craving more. So it was no surprise you ended up like this, pinned down on the bed as he sucked on your neck and collarbone down to your sternum. Even the slightest touch from him felt like electricity on your skin.

Yet you needed more.

Your pussy was practically begging. Your hands tugged at his hair and you yanked his face to yours so your lips could catch him in a passionate kiss once more.

His hands made their way under your skirt. In one swift motion both your panties and skirt were discarded onto the floor.

“Fuck. You're soaking wet, baby. And all for me,” he rasped, noticing your glistening sex. He laid kisses on your inner thighs, mere inches away from where you wanted him most, as he continued, “I haven't even done much yet. You're such a needy kitten aren't you?”

You bit your lip in response. 

His words.

Damn, it was so fucking hot.

His fingers ran up and down your folds before he settled on rubbing your clit. The action coupled with the degradation made you shudder and gasp.

His other hand had returned to its common position on your hips holding you in place. You were unbuttoning his shirt as he stared at you. Those dark enchanting eyes held your attention as he slammed a finger into you. You paused, gasped, eyes shut and your curses rang around your room at the fast and harsh pace of his finger.

Not long after he added another one. The way he curled them just right sent ecstasy rushing through your entire body. Your hands grabbed onto his hair to keep you grounded.

The faster and rougher his fingers got, the more you mewled and tugged at his hair. He pushed his thumb against your clit and rubbed small circles over it. Your thighs began to shake and you could feel your orgasm hurling towards you.

“Harry…” You whined, bucking your hips towards him, fingers tugging his shirt.

“You're so fucking beautiful.” He quickly shrugged off his clothes and climbed on top of you again. He brought your lips to his for a fervent kiss as his arm wrapped around your waist.

You were ready.

And so was he, cock twitching, seeking.

“You drive me crazy,” he said. “Absolutely crazy.”

“Get inside me, already," you begged, almost sobbing.

Your needy hands soon reached down to the base of his cock as a way to urge him to finally put it inside you. His free hand hastily came to replace yours. He rubbed his tip against your folds, your wetness running down his length. He pushed his entire length into you with ease eliciting a desperate, choked moan from you.

He didn’t even give you a second to adjust before he started slamming into you with a brutal pace. The delicious mix of pain and pleasure made you feel like you were in heaven. You were sure the whole neighbourhood would be able to hear your moans and whimpers if it weren’t for his mouth clamping yours. His thrusts were sharp and deep, each one sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head in ecstasy. You wrapped your legs around him to hold him close to you leaving your hands to claw at his back.

He ran his teeth across your collarbone and had you arching into his touch. Your orgasm hit you hard and you deliciously clenched around him. The room was filled with a blissful mix of your and his moans as he continued fucking you through your high, his undoing fast approaching.

His thrusts got sloppier and not long after he reached his release. Both of you were left breathless on the bed. His grip around your neck loosened and he instead rested his hand under your chin, bringing you into a slow and passionate kiss.

He mumbled between the kisses, “Fuck, you're amazing, baby.”

07:29 A.M.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your legs trembling and toes curling. 

Feeling the last waves of your orgasm wash over you, you let out a moan, buried your face in your hands, arching your back and pressing your head into the pillow.

Pulling out with a groan, Harry collapsed back onto the bed, panting beside you. “Who needs coffee when you can wake up like this?” he joked. 

You pulled the covers over your chest and glanced at him. “I totally agree,” you said, catching your breath. “But Harry, this is really getting out of hand. We need to talk about this. It has come to an end.” 

With half-closed eyes, he looked at you. “Do you really want it to end?” 

You shook your head, pursing your lips. 

“Then just let it go as far as it goes, baby,” he said, leaning in to kiss you, but you pulled back. 

You grabbed your nightgown from the floor and slipped it on before getting out of bed. “Harry, Zoe will be here soon. I think it’s best if you go now.” 

“Are you kicking me out? And why are we hiding it from Zoe?” 

I told her that I wouldn't hang out with you until we sorted our stuff out and I was sure how I felt. Plus, she thinks I'm with Theo."

Harry frowned and sat up in bed. “Just tell her we’re together then. And, I don’t understand why you can’t be sure about your feelings. Didn’t you feel what we shared last night? We had sex more than once, three times this morning,” he pointed out, holding up three fingers. 

You crossed your arms. “Just because we had sex doesn't mean I’ve forgiven you,” you teased, trying to maintain a serious tone. 

He frowned. “You’re really cruel. You slept in my arms all night. Just a few minutes ago, you were screaming my name and shaking—” 

Suddenly, you heard the apartment door open, and then the voices of Zoe and John.

“Crap, no,” you groaned in panic. You turned to Harry, who was still sitting on the bed. “Hide! They can’t see you here.” 

“Come on, Zoe is your cousin and John is her boyfriend. Let’s just tell them we’re back together now.” 

“But we’re not Harry,” you insisted stubbornly. 

Harry dramatically pulled the sheet up to his chest in mock offense. “I feel so used,” he said, pouting. 

You struggled to suppress a laugh at his expression when you were startled by a knock at the door. 

“Honey, are you awake?” 

In a frenzy, you gathered the clothes Harry had carelessly tossed around the room last night, shoving them to the side of the bed, and then jumped under the sheets. 

“Quick, hide over there,” you whispered urgently to Harry. 

He rolled his eyes. “I won't—” 

“You will if you love me.” With a gentle push, you forced him to the other side of the bed, where he had no choice but to crouch down and hide against the wall. 

Zoe opened the door, stepping inside. “Hey, hon, morning.” 

You plastered on a slightly too cheerful smile. “Morning. I was just getting up,” you said, glancing at the clock. “Wow, is it really almost 8:00?” 

“Yeah. You were up late last night?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Um, I guess I was just a bit tired,” you stated, trying to sound convincing. 

“Okay, I’ll get ready, and then we can head out together.” 

“Everything alright?” you asked, noticing her slightly downcast expression. 

“I’ll fill you in when we’re at the shop. Just get dressed and come on."

“Sure,” you replied, following her to the door. After she left, you closed it behind her.

You sighed in relief as Harry crawled out of his hiding spot, quickly putting on his pants and zipping them up. Just as he was tugging on his shirt, the door swung open again. 

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing your nightgown backward—” 

For a moment, all three of you froze. You were about to explain when Zoe shrieked, spotting Harry. 

“Aaah! What the hell?” 

“Why are you yelling?” you scolded her. 

“What happened? Is there a burglar? Where is he?” John rushed into the room, scanning for any threats. Then he froze, locking eyes on Harry. 

“It’s not a burglar; it’s Mr. Castillo,” Zoe remarked, laced with sarcasm and annoyance. 

Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed as he buttoned his shirt. "Hey."

“What on earth are you doing? Why is Harry in your room? Weren’t you with Theo last night?” 

“I can explain,” you said, trying to sound determined. 

“Yes, please do,” Zoe urged, narrowing her eyes before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you into the living room.

Zoe guided you to the couch and looked at you like a parent scolding a child. “Seriously, what’s going on? You two broke up, right? So, what's this about? Make-up sex? Are you back together?”

“Not really,” you murmured.

“Have you forgotten how much you were hurt? Have you forgiven him?”

“Zoe, we’re just trying to work through our issues.”

"We will,” Harry chimed in, donning his jacket as he stepped in the living room. The hem of his shirt was untucked, and his messy hair made him look somewhat comical; yet, he was still attractive.

Zoe turned to him. “Is this really how you plan to fix things? You need to stay away from each other, or it will hurt even more when it’s really over.”

Harry frowned, realizing she was echoing the therapist’s advice. “I’d better get to work before I’m late,” he said, leaning in for a kiss, but Zoe stepped in between you two.

“The door is that way,” she said, pointing toward the exit.

“Hey, Zoe, there’s no need to be rude,” you said, tilting your head to sneak a glance at Harry behind her back.

Then John approached Zoe, “Zoe, they’re grown adults; let them figure things out for themselves.”

“Oh really? You handled things with Lucy by talking it out? It didn’t look that way to me.”

“Uh-oh,” you whispered under your breath.

"I guess I should head out," Harry said as he opened the door. He turned back to you, kissed his palm, and sent the kiss your way, which made you giggle.

John frowned. “What does this have to do with us?”

“Get out, John. I don’t want to deal with you today,” she said, pointing towards the door.

He let out a deep sigh and walked out, momentarily turning back to her. “Zoe, I…” John murmured.

Harry shot you one last glance and gave a cheeky wink. You waved back at him.

And bam.

Zoe slammed the door shut in their faces.

John muttered a curse under his breath. Harry shot him a knowing glance. “Looks like I got you kicked out, man.” 

“No, I got myself kicked out.” 

“John, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but… Lucy? Seriously? Still?” Harry said with a disapproving look, pulling out his phone to check for his driver’s number.

“Mind your own business, Castillo. And what about you? Are you really using your ex for your... needs?”

Harry tucked his phone away and met John’s gaze. “I’m not using her. I would never do that. Yeah, I messed up, but I’m going to fix things. As for you, you need to cut out the toxic woman from your life completely and stop hurting Zoe. When her cousin’s upset, it makes my baby sad too.” He turned to leave.

“Are you sure she’ll come back to you?”

Harry turned back, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying, my friend Theo seems to have a crush on her too,” he said, teasing him.

Harry looked at John, a stern expression on his face. “No one could possibly love her as much as I do. I've held back from begging for her forgiveness because I want to give her the space she needs. However, I refuse to let her slip away to someone else, do you understand? I will fight for her if necessary, even if it takes years. I'm willing to wait because she is worth it."

“Wow, Harry Castillo is talking like Romeo. Someone should let the media know.”

They both chuckled.

“So, you really love her that much, huh? I should probably have a word with Theo and ask him to back off, since I know she loves you too,” he said.

"He really should, unless he wants to deal with a hard dose of rejection," he smirked.

"I hope you two can work things out,” he said sincerely. 

“We will, but you, John—like I said, you need to rid yourself of the toxins in your life first. Don’t let her do to you what she did before. Take this as friendly advice,” Harry said, waving his hand as he headed towards the stairs.

13:10 P.M.

“You know, Zoe has a point, baby. How about I take you out to dinner? We can talk everything through that night. What do you think?”

You smiled as you typed your response to Harry’s message. The thought of being with him filled you with a sense of purpose; he added color to your life, and without him, you felt like a puzzle with missing pieces. So, why not embrace the possibility of a fresh start and let go of the past?

“Deal, ol' man.”

As you arrived at Mia's school, your thoughts were still tangled up with Harry. So much so that it almost slipped your mind why you were there.

Right.

You had come as a chef to lead a baking workshop in Mia's craft class. While you weren't entirely at ease leaving the shop in Zoe’s hands and the others, you couldn’t turn Mia down. Fortunately, everything went splendidly; the kids had a blast whipping up cakes, and by the end of the day, many of them expressed a desire to become chefs like you.

Maria called to let you know that things at work were taking longer than expected—Harry was running late for the morning meeting, and you knew all too well the reason for that. As a caring mother, she asked you to accompany Mia home when her driver arrived, and you agreed without hesitation.

You weren’t sure why she preferred you to do something the driver could manage solo. However, when Mia dashed down the street toward a man waiting for the driver, it became clear.

“Mia, stop! Where are you going?” you called out.

“Dad!” she exclaimed, and you froze in place. The man she was embracing appeared to be Harry's age. You had heard Gerardo's name mentioned many times but had never met him before—understandably.

Mia threw her arms around him, and he kissed her on the head, returning the hug. He was dressed unusually casually. When he noticed you, he straightened up and took Mia's hand.

“Please don’t tell my mom,” Mia pleaded, her eyes on you. “She won’t let my dad come home.”

Gerardo smiled shyly in your direction and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Gerardo, and you are…”

“Uncle Harry's girlfriend, the housekeeper… I mean, the chef,” Mia replied for you.

You exchanged awkward handshakes, and soon the three of you settled down at a nearby café. Mia wanted to catch up with her father, whom she hadn’t seen in days, but you felt it was your responsibility to stay with them since Maria had asked you to. Plus, there was something about Gerardo that made you uneasy.

After he apologized to you for the trouble he caused—the company and everything else—he opened up about his situation. He was in a tough spot; Maria had turned him down when he tried to reconcile, and he had lost everything after Harry pushed him out of the company.

While you sat there, another man approached and started talking to Gerardo. You considered leaving to take Mia home since she hadn’t finished her milkshake, but then you spotted the gun and badge on the man's waist along with some files on the table.

NYPD. Police.

And there were photos of Alan inside the files.

It suddenly dawned on you that he must be the officer Maria had mentioned.

“Gerardo, this might be our one shot. If we can get a card for the elevator to his penthouse and sneak in, I’m sure we’ll find something useful there. It’s risky, and he knows us, so it really has to be someone he wouldn’t suspect."

"That bastard. I need him to pay for what he did. I've lost everything because of him."

It wasn't just him; everyone had endured more than enough because of his actions. In that moment, something crossed your mind.

Yes, it was undeniably dangerous.

Yes, it might be the most reckless thing you’d ever done.

Yes, it could very well be the dumbest idea you had ever had. But if it meant putting an end to that scum, then it was worth it.

“I’ll do it,” you said, glancing at both of them as they stared back at you in surprise.

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!

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lots of love 💋💋❤️❤️

[tprings-hair]

this is a list (as complete as I can make it) of what we know about kirk's backstory in tos and the tos movies, with episode sources:

- he has a brother named samuel george kirk who he calls sam. sam has a wife named aurelan, three kids (one of whom is named peter), and a terrible mustache. (what are little girls made of? and operation: annihilate!)

- he was on tarsus iv and survived the massacre. we don't know his age or what he was doing there. we only know that he saw kodos, heard his voice, wrote down what he said about the massacre, and could tentatively identify him years later. (the conscience of the king)

- when security officer mallory dies, kirk says that mallory's father helped him get into starfleet academy. (the apple)

- he was a nerd in the academy. gary mitchell called him a stack of books with legs, and he admits to bones that he was a very serious cadet. he was picked on by a fellow cadet named finnegan, who he dearly wanted to beat up but never did. (where no man has ever gone before and shore leave)

- on a similarly nerdy note, he had a big history crush on abraham lincoln and could recite the constitution from memory. maybe this is a learned skill in american schools in this future, or maybe he's just a history nerd. (the savage curtain)

- he had john gill as a history professor, who he encounters in the series as the crazy old guy who made space nazis. (patterns of force)

- kirk did not meet but looked up to captain garth of izar, a starfleet captain and explorer who was eventually decided to commit genocide and was sent to an asylum. we don't know whether this happened before, during, or after kirk's study of him or how he might have taken the news. (whom gods destroy)

- he has a deep fear of being alone and unable to act or control his situation. (many episodes, but most obviously in and the children shall lead us.)

- at some point (we have no idea how old he was or if it was before or after the academy) he nearly died from vegan choriomeningitis, a made-up disease deadly enough to be used as population control when extracted from his blood. (the mark of gideon)

- he had some kind of relationship with areel shaw, a lawyer who later ends up questioning kirk in a court martial. (court martial)

- he had some kind of relationship with ruth. when he sees her again in season 1, or a representation of her, he says it's been fifteen years. (shore leave)

- when he took the kobayashi maru, he reprogrammed the test so it would be possible to pass and passed on his third try. (the wrath of khan)

- once he became a midshipman (a cadet training to be a commissioned officer, apparently never mention as a rank outside of this series), he became close with his instructor benjamin finney. at some point, finney named his daughter jame (pronounced jamie) after him. jame is a teenager when we see her in season 1. (court martial)

- he served aboard the uss republic, where finney made a mistake that could have been disastrous and kirk logged it, ruining finney's chances for promotion. (court martial)

- he served aboard the uss farragut under captain garrovick as part of a phaser gun crew, meaning he fired the ship's phasers from engineering, not on the bridge like chekov. he hesitated before firing on a creature which killed garrovick, and blamed himself for it years later. (obsession)

- at some point, he worked with janice lester and they had a relationship. she resented kirk for being a man and having his career goals easier to achieve (we are not given strong evidence whether this is true or false), and kirk says they would have killed each other if he'd stayed. (turnabout intruder)

- at some point, he and endocrinologist dr. janet wallace got into a relationship, though it ended because they were both dedicated to their careers. (the deadly years)

- at some point, he and dr. carol marcus had a relationship and conceived david. kirk knew david existed, but carol prioritised her career as a scientist and decided to raise david away from kirk's world. it's implied that david met kirk and knew that he and carol had a relationship at one point, and he calls kirk "that overgrown boy scout (she) used to hang around with". he didn't know that kirk was his father until the movie, though. (the wrath of khan)

- shortly before serving on the enterprise, kirk taught a class at the academy, which gary mitchell was in. we don't know what he taught, only that he had a reputation for making students think critically. mitchell admits to setting kirk up with a blonde lab technician, to which kirk looks aghast and says, "I nearly married her." we don't know whether this was janet wallace, carol marcus, ruth, areel shaw, janice lester, or some other unknown woman. (where no man has gone before)

- at some point, he and gary mitchell encountered "rodent things" on dimorus which threw poisoned darts at them. mitchell took one for kirk and nearly died. (where no man has gone before)

that's it! that's all we get. everything else -- including him being born in iowa -- was from other sources added later. I just realised there wasn't one good source that was specific to the original series (star trek wikis that don't differentiate between tos, other series afterwards, and aos drive me insane), and it might be relevant to someone else too.

[xoami]

LIMERENT, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 sick and in love

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, you and your stalker have a special bond. PAIRING. stalker!sunghoon x lovesick!reader GENRE. fluff, angst, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, mdni

authors note ୨୧ This comeback has my creativity on 10. I spiraled and wrote several chapters to this prompt. I may release them depending on how this goes.

─────────

You met your stalker on a gloomy Wednesday. Well, that’s not exactly true…

You caught him.

It was raining that night, hard, cold drops hammering the pavement like they had a score to settle.

You’d just locked up the café, slipping your keys into your coat pocket when you glanced across the street—and there he was…

His tall, lean figure half-shadowed under the flickering orange glow of a busted streetlamp, camera pressed to his chest like a confession. Dark hair, damp and messy. Lips parted like he forgot how to breathe when you noticed him.

His tired eyes were blown wide under wet lashes…

You didn’t scream, You didn’t run.

You tilted your head, lifted your hand to wave, and he disappeared.

Sunghoon… Park Sunghoon.

That was his name.

You found it scrawled on the inside of a brand new book, ´The Fall of the House of Usher’ that appeared on your porch days later—delicate cursive, slanted and careful, and in pretty red ink.

You pressed your fingers to it, lips curling.

The book smelled like cologne—woodsy, clean, cold. Like cedar, mint, and winter.

Later you learned that Sunghoon always smelled like winter.

⸻

You’re not exactly normal either.

No one really talks to you much… not since you stopped trying.

You like your space, your routines.

Your tea cabinet is alphabetized, your bed is always made, except when he comes.

You talk to stray cats more than you do to people. They meow at the windows at sunset, and you always let them in.

So, maybe it wasn’t that strange to you when the gifts started…

Roses, dark red and wilting at the edges.

A little box with a dainty, golden locket.

A velvet ribbon tied around a cassette tape with no label… classical music.

An envelope of photos—grainy, warm, quiet. Some of you at the market, some of you brushing your hair in the mirror, some of you flat on your stomach in bed, dipping strawberries in melted chocolate.

You should’ve been scared, but you weren’t.

You felt closer to something…someone?...

You felt admired.

You felt pretty.

⸻

Days…

Weeks…

Months…

Time passed, slow as molasses.

Patterns continued, and eventually your stalker became less and less… out of reach. He never started to feel less like a ghost however.

Park Sunghoon.

You remember the first time you heard heavy footsteps in the halls, you were quick to type away on your phone.

You: Is that you?

Your phone had buzzed not even a moment later. One message:

Unknown: ;)

Soon, it became routine.

He’d crawl through your window, always at odd hours of the night.

Most of the time, you were already half asleep, your cheek mashed against the pillow, fingers twitching toward dreamland…

But you’d stir at the faint creak of the floorboards, the subtle shift of air, the familiar cold scent curling into your room like fog.

Then the bed would dip behind you, and arms would wrap around your waist. Strong, still trembling slightly.

You’d smile even in slumber.

Sunghoon’s fingers were always ice cold, and he’d tuck them beneath your night dress, pressing into the bare warmth of your stomach like he needed to feel it.

You’d wiggle your hips against him just to tease, and he’d choke on a quiet sound, pulling you closer. You liked the way he shook.

You liked that you made him shake.

⸻

He doesn’t speak much.

When he does, it’s breathy… flat but thick with meaning. His words don’t land—they linger.

“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered once, his mouth brushing the curve of your neck as he held you on the fire escape.

“I’d kill for you, though.”

You think he already has.

You never asked why there was blood smudged on his cheeks, or dried under his fingernails some nights…

Never asked why or whose it was.

You never asked why his hands tremble when you kiss over fresh bruises.

You just guide him to the bed, giggling as he sits stiff as stone on the edge, waiting for you climbed into his lap. You trace the veins down his neck, pressed your lips to the chiseled line of his jaw, and felt the tension coil in his spine.

He never moved first.

You always had to pull his hands from his sides, coax them to your hips, your thighs, your ribs…

Like he was scared he’d burn you.

You wanted to burn.

⸻

He writes you love letters…

Little scraps of obsession.

‘Hello Angel,

Your lips have been haunting me… your smile too. I saw you laugh at a joke from your co-worker today. The cashier. It made me want to scratch his eyes out. Anyhow, you looked beautiful… I’ll see you soon. Leave your window open?

- Yours truly, S.’

You tape them to your bathroom mirror like confessions.

Late at night, you write your name across his pale chest with cherry lipstick, his arms, his hips—right over his heart.

You like the way his eyes roll when you straddle him, brows furrowed, his mouth always parted like he forgot how to breathe again. He trembles when you kiss, like every touch is sacrilegious.

You think he cried the first time he saw you naked.

A single tear, down his cheekbone, as his hands stayed frozen above his head like he didn’t know where to put them. You kissed the tear, then kissed lower.

⸻

The photos keep coming… the ones he takes.

You sip tea and sort through them like postcards at your kitchen table.

You, always you. At your window, or stretching in bed, or with headphones on and unaware, mouthing the lyrics to a song he later asked about.

“I like knowing you’re watching,” you once told him, brushing his hair back from his face as he lay in your lap.

He blinked up at you, as if waiting for the punchline.

You smiled.

“It makes me feel wanted.”

Sunghoon’s lips curled—just barely. A twitch of something fond and unhinged.

⸻

You still leave your window open without asking, but he has a key now just in case.

You always sleep deeper with his arms around you… and he’s beginning to leave clothes of his for you in the mornings… A simple black hoodie, a thin white t-shirt, a striped dress shirt.

You always wore them, nothing underneath.

Your stray cats still curl on the windowsill, still keeping you company in his absence.

Your house smells like rose petals and cold cologne. Your walls are now lined with clothesline, his secret photographs pinned along them with fairy lights.

You never fail to wake to the softest kisses on your shoulder, the words “mine, mine, mine” breathed like prayer.

On the fire escape, you hold his hand and he presses his lips to your temple.

“You’ll never know a love like mine,” he whispers.

“I know,” you whisper back, smiling.

And that’s all you need.

[citrustan]

killah (jjk) [5]

pairing: managing partner lawyer!jungkook x spoiled brat!reader x senior partner! redacted

genre: strangers/lowkey one sided enemies to ?? idk bec you irk him, angst, smut, like slight fluff, infidelity au (jungkook has a girlfriend)

wc: 6.9k

warnings: please read the other parts before this one! soooo in this chapter, you'll see a little emotional and the slightest bit more of physical cheating, descriptions of nudity, accidental flashing, umm foot 😵 and no i'm not explaining myself, hand holding 😋 good luck 👍

extra note: i will edit it soon, i think it needs a little refining but not too much! but yes it'll be done a bit later because im scared to read through this again it's edited!

Nobody should be waking up this early on a Saturday. But you had a very important and hopefully fruitful day ahead. 

Kim Namjoon had promised to take you to the gym. Unfortunately, he didn’t plan for a separate event, instead, he just wrote you into his regular schedule. You preferred that though. That was the only way you’d get to see Jeon Jungkook in action.

You had been pretty passive about courting him lately. Joining Logan’s team was a lot more demanding than you had imagined. Nobody would let you slack off.

Initially, they were quite understanding about your incompetence but once it began actively affecting their work, they weren’t shy to let you know it. 

Logan wouldn’t defend you either. So you had to suck it up and win them over through hard work. 

All the hard work was starting to pay off too. 

Logan had put you on a personal payroll. The amount wasn’t as much as the other employees earned (which was alright with you since you had no idea how big of a difference there was between yours and their pay cheques.)

You were being taught how to use Excel and some calendar app to set meetings up for people. 

You also learnt that these were public and everyone could see everyone's calendars. 

Apologies to the sixty people who saw the bikini laser and dick appointments on yours. 

Speaking of dick appointments; none of yours had been successful with Namjoon.

It’s like the universe was keeping you apart.

There were three separate occasions where you were this close to finally getting laid. But the world was working against you, trying to enforce abstinence. 

The first time was the day you met Namjoon, your first day at work. Had Jungkook not walked in, you’d probably have fucked right there. 

The second time was a lot more humiliating. You were at his apartment and it was the first time you had seen each other completely nude. You were certain you were about to have the best sex of your life.

The two of you were fully naked, making out on his expensive couch. His cock was rubbing and prodding against your wet and puffy lips. Everything was just right.

And then his parents came in. 

It happened too fast for you to react in time.

So, yeah. His parents had seen… everything.

Instead of staying on top of you (because it kept the two of you covered,) the idiot hopped off of you, almost hitting his head on his coffee table, putting both himself and you on display for his parents.

This pattern could not keep going. 

First Jeon Jungkook, now Mr. and Mrs. Kim. 

And then it happened once again with Jungkook.

Except, this time, he wasn’t physically present to break you up but he kept blowing Namjoon’s phone up.

You don’t know what it was about but since Namjoon made you leave in a haste, you assumed it was work. 

After that, you had given up.

Namjoon probably got his relief elsewhere because he didn’t seem half as frustrated as you, but it was whatever. 

Anywayyyy....

Today though, you HAD to make a move on Jeon Jungkook. This is what the universe had been trying to do!

Probably.

But you NEEDED that man. He could fix you.

You couldn’t find his Instagram and had to stalk through Namjoon’s instead for more intel on him. You don’t remember the last time you were this invested in something, or someone.

A loud bell finally forces you completely awake. 

You groan, burying your face in your silk pillowcase, as it kept ringing incessantly.  

“I swear to God…” You threw your blanket off and padded barefoot across your carpeted room, then down the stairs to the main door.

Where the hell was Logan?

When you opened the door, something bright , loud and flashy jumped at you making you wince--- “Mornin’, Pumpkin!” 

Fucking Kim Seokjin.

It was followed by a ‘Hello, my kitty.’ from your mother who breezes past you into your apartment.

But her lackey, sorry, husband waits for an invitation that you don’t verbalise.

Instead, you complain, “Stop calling me that, Seokjin.” 

Seokjin was only a decade older than you and was always trying to parent you and Logan. It was... New. Logan entertained it but you're fine without a father figure.

All you needed was Jeon Jungkook. He could be your daddy. :D

“Come into the kitchen, dear.” You don’t know if your mother’s talking to you or Jin. You let him in anyway.

As expected, breakfast was already prepared and displayed on the island: buffet style.

Ryujin, your private chef, had already left.

Logan emerged from the den, instantly latching on to your mother. 

You wondered if her day usually began this early or if it was just today. It’s like 6 A.M. (It was 8.)

Seokjin grabbed you a plate and served you half a grapefruit and a large bowl of tofu pudding while you waited at the table.

You were still a tad delirious.

Your hair was a tangled mess that you’d need help combing out. 

The three adults joined you at the breakfast table a few minutes later.

Logan presented you with your iPad to check your schedule, this time it was hidden from his employees. But of course, you played Candy Crush instead. 

Your brother made small talk about work and about how well you’re adjusting. Something about Seokjin’s new venture capitalist phase was discussed.

Then your mother turned her attention towards her favourite daughter. 

You ignore her gaze and continue shoving chocolate pudding into your mouth.

“Are you seeing anyone new lately?” She asked hopefully.

You took extra long to respond, still chewing on the grapefruit-pudding combo. So, Logan answers for you--- “Kim Namjoon.” 

At that, your mother’s eyes lit up, “Ahh, him. I have known his father for a while. Such a polite kid.” She then adds, “Very eligible.” 

Eligible = marriage material.

But you knew damn well he wasn't thr type to even think about marriage.

Unbothered, you lean back. “He’s OK. Not seeing him.”  

You stretched your arms and legs. “I’m interested in someone else though.”

That made your mother pause mid-bite, “Oh?” 

“Jeon Jungkook.” 

Your mother blinked, now intrigued. She definitely knew that name.

“Namjoon’s… boss?” She tries to find the right word.

“Mhm.” 

Wasn’t he with someone already? Your mother makes a strange face but keeps her thoughts to herself. She has had enough of your bullshit. Ignorance is bliss. 

At least you’re aiming high. 

The topic's forgotten just as fast as it was brought up.

Seokjin takes over, enthusiastically talking about some game show he was going to go on.

You still didn't know what exactly it was that he did. Not that you cared either.

A few minutes later, you excuse yourself from the table.

You hadn’t realised it was already half past 8.

Namjoon would be here in an hour. There wasn’t enough time to get a hairwash in but you’re going to risk it anyway. 

You ask for Seokjin’s help with your hair and he ditches his breakfast to follow you upstairs.

He really does try very hard to connect with you and Logan. You pity him.

Only fifty minutes later, Namjoon texts you just as you finish tying the last strap on your wrap top. 

At the lobby! Is visitor parking free? 

It wasn't, but you don't reply because you'd have been downstairs soon anyway.

You had washed your hair, showered, dried your hair and lotioned up in record time. 

You swipe some more gloss on, adjust your cami and mini ruffle skirt, and kiss your mirror. 

You weren’t sure if you’d need a proper gym bag. You could just take Logan’s but it’s ugly. 

A towel and your Stanley was all you were carrying anyway. Apart from your phone and cards, of course. Namjoon could store those for you.

By the time you make it to the lobby, your insides began to vibrate in excitement.

You briefly wonder if Jungkook would be there as well.

You move through the lobby and finally see your date.

Namjoon was waiting near the entrance, scrolling through his phone.

No Jungkook.

When he looks up, his eyes do a quick sweep of your outfit before settling back on your face.

“Wow?” He says, pushing his sunnies up to his head, “That’s your gym look?”

“This is activewear,” you reply dryly, stepping closer and adding, “Technically.”

It’s what you wore for pilates. The skirt had shorts attached to it underneath. But your breasts were a bit… under secured? A tinge risqué for the gym, but you weren’t planning on doing any heavy lifting.

Namjoon lets out a soft laugh and opens the door for you. "Noted. I’ll go easy on you anyway."

The sunlight hits you, blinding you instantly. You wanna fight it but tilt your face up, pretending to enjoy it. 

Maybe you could gaslight yourself into believing it was about to be a lovely day ahead. 

You wonder if Jungkook was at the gym yet. 

Namjoon opens the door to the passenger seat for you and buckles you in, just so he has an excuse to get closer to your face and steal a kiss. 

Bless his heart. 

This gym isn’t what you expected.

Namjoon guides you inside and the two of you stop at the front desk. 

Natural light streams in through tall windows. The gym is well lit and ventilated, tucked away from the street. It smells… good? Not like sweat, wet cardboard and disinfectant. It’s got, like, hints of oud, amber, something cologne-y and maybe eucalyptus.

Quite inviting.

The front desk lady smiles at you prettily. You return it.

Namjoon’s signing you in as his guest. You silently warn him against giving any of your personal information away.

There’s a hydration station to your left, stocked with little shot glasses filled with vibrant green liquid and large glass jars of veggie-infused water. 

Your eyes flit around the room.

The walls were pale and the machines looked shiny and clean. Even the music was just instrumental and low enough for it to not feel like a club. 

There were maybe fifteen to twenty people there.

But you’re looking for a very specific people.

Jeon Jungkook, of course.

You were about to wonder if he was there at all when you finally spotted him. 

He was straight across from where you stood, knelt and leaning on this terrifying looking contraption. It truly looked crazy.

But more than his stance, what caught your eye was his arms. Your jaw is slightly ajar.

Then bringing your lips together, you furrow your brows.

His entire sleeve of ink, which you had only caught glimpses of otherwise, was on display. In person, it’s almost cinematic.

You hadn’t expected to see him like this. Your stomach tightens out of nervousness.

You bounce once on the balls of your feet without realizing it. 

When Namjoon’s finally done, he leads you inside with your pale pink tumbler in hand.

You wordlessly, eagerly follow a few inches behind him. 

It had been a while since you last saw Jungkook up close. Like, too long of a while. 

You couldn't wait to---

Your eyes fall on another figure.

No.

Nooooo.

Of course, like a slap in the face, there she was. 

On the machine right next to him was Hyewon. With her hair tied up neatly, face flushed from the physical exertion, she wore a fitted, black zip-up jacket and matching leggings.

Your face falls. You’re not sure you recover by the time she sees you and Namjoon. 

Her face lit up with surprise, “_____! Hi!”

That’s when Jungkook stumbles. 

You return a strained smile that doesn't reach your eyes.

You see Jungkook's legs drop a second too early from the machine as he glances over, following his girlfriend’s gaze.

His eyes land on Namjoon first, then on you. His eyes travel over your figure--- slowly. You’re certain it stalls somewhere around your chest for half a second too long before snapping back up to your face.

But you’re frozen, already feeling the burn in your cheeks. 

Because Jeon Jungkook’s got fucking piercings.

Could he get any hotter? Oh, my God.

A small barbell at his brow, a silver ring at the corner of his lower lip, silver rings up his ears. What the fuck…

Where had this man been all your life?

You needed a second. 

Jeon Jungkook had no right being this hot.

You’re still recovering from the visual assault when Namjoon casually announces, “This is _____’s first time in a gym.”

Hyewon lets out a little sound of surprise. Jungkook doesn’t react at all.

You want him to not react with his dick down your throat.

You blink a few times and rearrange your head, finally managing to roll your eyes and shake the Jungkook-induced haze out of your mind.

"So we're just gonna be over there." Namjoon points to another area, not too far away from the couple. "Let’s start you off with something easy…" Namjoon's already steering you gently by your waist, toward the cardio section. "Treadmill, maybe ten minutes?"

Cardio???

Uh, he was taking you to the wittle baby machines. No thank you.

“Nuh uh!” You interrupt, suddenly digging your heels in. “I wanna do what he’s doing.” You point straight at Jungkook like a toddler choosing their favorite toy.

Hyewon and Jungkook look at each other. Then back at you. 

Jungkook immediately shakes his head, straightening up next to the Roman chair. “No way.” He says flatly. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

If only he knew you’d been doing reformer pilates for the past few months. You think you can handle it. Sort of. 

But also, it’s kinda hot of him to be so… protective? Like the idea of you straining yourself worries him. 

So you lean in a little, voice dropping just enough. “Oh…” You pout. “But won’t you help me?” There’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. 

He doesn’t even blink. “No.” He says, firm.

Then he turns away and gets back on the machine, leaving you and Namjoon a bit dumbfounded. 

Pfft. Whatever. 

You bite back a smile. 

He was annoyed.

How shameless were you? Were you actually flirting with him in front of his own girlfriend; your friend? 

Hyewon deserved better than you. 

(And him.) 

Hyewon breaths a smile through her nose, “Well, if you need anything, let me know, okay?”

You look at her with a genuine smile. “Thanks, Wony. I think I’ll probably just go with what Joon’s doing first.” Insinuating that you’d seek her later. 

Namjoon smiles at her as well.

He then tugs you away, still feeling entertained by you and Jungkook. “Let’s start with the treadmill, come on.” 

You sigh dramatically, casting one last look over your shoulder.

Jungkook’s full focus was on whatever activity he was carrying out. Hyewon’s beside him, adjusting her gloves. 

You drag your feet after Namjoon reluctantly.

The treadmill was whatever. Namjoon inclined it for you but it was still just whatever. Namjoon swore he thought you’d enjoy it. Most newbies did.

After fifteen minutes of that, Namjoon coaxes you into doing a few warm-up stretches.

You generally didn’t enjoy doing these in public but you obliged anyway. He took the lead and you followed.

The fucker would purposely try to make you bend over so he could ogle your tits.

Of course, you weren't going to give him that satisfaction. You're still annoyed at Namjoon for not finding time to fuck you.

Then he puts you on a machine where you stand and cycle; an elliptical.

Only fifteen minutes of it turned your legs into jelly. 

It was so embarrassing to fall straight into Namjoon after getting off. 

More so when you noticed Jungkook watching. 

You wanted to cry. You were better than this.

Namjoon then patted your face a little, offering you a sip of his fruit juice. 

Then he gestures toward another one of the beginner-friendly machines--- something with a padded bench and two handlebars. A seated chest press machine? You can't remember what it's called.

But you take one look at the bench and recoil.

No way you were sitting on that, nuh uh.

You protest. “Ugh, Namjoon, I’m not sitting on that.”

He looks at you incredulously, “Why not?” 

You mirror his expression, “Think about how many butts have been on it and then ask me that again.”

As if he knew what you were going to say, he sighs, already pulling a pack of sanitizing wipes from his gym bag.

He had done this twice for the handles on the other two machines you’d been on. 

He gives the whole thing a thorough wipe-down--- handles, bench, even the adjustment knobs. 

You watch him with the faintest smirk. 

At least he’s learning.

“There,” he says, stepping back. 

You inch closer.

Then wrinkle your nose. “Still looks gross.”

Namjoon stares at you for a second, then gives in with a groan.

He shrugs off his jacket, folds it neatly, and lays it over the bench like it’s a cushion.

That was more like it!

You finally plop down on the jacket dramatically, crossing one leg over the other. "Ok, tell me what to do now."

You shrug a loose pigtail over your shoulder. An impractical hairstyle for the gym but you didn't want to compromise on your personal style.

Also, your hair had been super soft and silky that day.

♡ 

From across the room, Jungkook’s watching you struggle with the chest press.

He’s taking a break, a protein shake in hand, towel slung around his neck.

He’s still in disbelief a little. He had watched you wait around as his friend cleaned all the machines for you.

He even briefly heard you whine about something. Your voice was so irritating to him.

There’s no way you were that high maintenance.

Such a goddamn princess.

Thank goodness Hyewon wasn’t like that. He got lucky. 

Almost on cue, Hyewon jogs up beside him, breathless and glowing, “Ok, ready!”

Jungkook sets down his bottle and adjusts the 25kg barbell for her with a small smile, checking the weight settings and spotting her like he usually did when they worked out together.

It wasn’t often but enough times for them to have their own little routine.

Jungkook watches out for signs of discomfort on his girlfriend's face. “Good job. You’re doing perfect, babe.”

Hyewon giggles breathily. 

You see all of it.

And you’re instantly peeved.

Their whole… dynamic. Relationship, whatever. You didn't get it. They’re so basic it pisses you off. 

Jungkook was so nice to her but he wouldn’t even smile at you.

Like so what if that’s his girlfriend?

Does he just never look at other people? You can't seem to fathom that.

.

Was Hyewon controlling? 

.

Yeah, no. Even the thought of that seemed ridiculous.

You watched him hold her waist and glide his hand up and down her back. 

Ugh. This wasn’t what you signed up for.

You weren’t gonna sit here and watch Jungkook feel his girlfriend up in public. 

That should've been you!!

You let out a huff and look up at Namjoon. “I’m done.”

You sigh, standing abruptly. “I wanna go.”

Namjoon blinks. Now? “Wait, already?” 

It had only been a bit over forty minutes. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to start his own, proper work out.

“I’m bored. This isn’t fun anymore.” You pout, blowing your hair out of your face.

Anymore. So you were enjoying it? 

Maybe he could make you wait a while for him to finish up. 

“Why don’t you go get a steam with Hyewon? I’ll finish up here by the time you’re done.” Namjoon bribes you with something he knew you'd like, hopeful.

But you don’t even entertain the idea. “No… it’s okay. I don’t want foot fungus.”

You sneak another glance at the couple, feigning a stretch.

They’re still engaged with each other. 

Ughghdgh.

You were done for the day.

“I think I’m just gonna head home. Then maybe call for a massage.” You think a relaxing Thai massage would be perfect right now. “You can finish up here. I’ll see myself out!”

He sighs, wipes his hands on his shorts, and grabs his gym bag. He wasn't about to let you leave like this.

“Wait. I promised you a meal anyway. Let’s get brunch instead?” Namjoon offers.

Oh, right. You hadn’t even cared for that bit. 

You blink owlishly. “I forgot about that. You really don’t have to-” - “No, I want to.” He smiles, hopeful.

You look unconvinced. 

Namjoon’s staring you down.

He’s so persistent. 

You’re mid performing your eye-roll-flirting combo when a shadow appears beside you.

Hyewon. 

She looks curious, a little concerned even. “Everything okay?”

She noticed you and Namjoon having a bit of a disagreement so she had to check in on you. 

Namjoon turns to her with a friendly smile, “Oh, yeah. _____’s over the gym. So we’re gonna head out actually.” He nods at the exit.

Hyewon’s lips form an ‘o’ and she nods slowly. She had hoped to spend some time with you.

Then, as if it suddenly occurs to him, Namjoon exclaims, "Oh!" You don't like the sound of that. "We’re just going to this little cafe nearby. You and Kook should join us. It’s not even ten minutes from here, he knows which one."

W-

Wait a damn minute. 

When did this become a group activity? You hadn’t agreed to this!!

Why did Namjoon always have the wOrst ideas?

You turn your head sharply to glare at him. Neither of them catch on.

But Hyewon lights up instantly. “That sounds great!” She doesn't bother confirming with her boyfriend, knowing he’d agree to it if she asked nicely. 

Hyewon had been meaning to find a way to sit down with you one of these days. Maybe get to know you better.

What better opportunity was she going to get than this? 

Since her work lunches had never happened with you, she thinks this brunch may be an opening to more like these.

And just like that, your simple date with Namjoon… becomes something else entirely.

You tap your foot impatiently.

The three of you were forced to wait for fifteen more minutes for His Highness to finish his post-workout steam session.

Hyewon had tried to start conversations with you the entire time. Ones that you just couldn't care to follow up on. You can't do small talk.

You prayed Jungkook got a foot fungus.

Who did he think he was making you wait around for him like some lap dog?

Jungkook finally reemerged from the changing room dressed in a white button down, dark grey trousers and dress shoes.

You squint for a second. Was this just his regular getup? 

No, you’ve seen photos of him in regular people clothes.

You shake it off. Maybe he was gonna return to the office. Did he ever rest?

As if you weren't already agitated. On top of waiting on Jungkook for so long, Namjoon makes you walk ten minutes to the eatery. 

Namjoon walks beside you, holding both his gym bag and your Stanley Cup like a true gentleman. You hear Hyewon yapping behind you, attached to Jungkook’s arm like an accessory. 

You can’t help it. Every now and then, you glance over your shoulder. As does Namjoon, but for a totally different reason. He’s making sure they were all close together and you’re only sneaking peeks at Jeon Jungkook. 

It pisses you off when Jungkook doesn’t even return your gaze. 

What you don’t realise is that his eyes stayed glued to you when you weren’t looking. 

But in his defence, you're in his line of vision whether he wants it or not.

So... Yeah.

When you got to the cafe, you were able to cut the line and get a table instantly because Jungkook and Namjoon knew the owners. 

It's a pretty little place with a warm and welcoming atmosphere. It's a bit too brown for you but you get the appeal.

You think you read about this place in Vogue or something.

Inside, the host greets Namjoon by name and guides your party to a circular table. It had two pairs of stools placed on opposite sides, facing each other. 

You take your seat beside Namjoon before anyone else could.

Jungkook and Hyewon sit across from you. 

There’s not a lot of space--- your thigh is just barely touching Namjoon’s. 

You weren't down with this arrangement.

“Joon, would you mind switching seats with me?” You ask sweetly, tugging lightly on his sleeve. “There’s a draft blowing right on my neck and it’s already beginning to give me a headache.”

“Yeah, of course,” Namjoon says without hesitation, already rising from his seat. He even offers you his jacket which you decline.

Uh, yeah, so there was no draft.

You just didn’t want to spend the next hour, or whatever, staring at Hyewon’s face when you could stare at Jungkook's instead. 

Jungkook raises a brow. He, too, knew there was no draft. And if there was, were you really just about to put Namjoon through that discomfort?

It seemed so typical of you.

But you're a little happier now.

You were finally directly across Jeon Jungkook. 

Jungkook’s arms are folded; elbows on the table, muscles flexed. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Yet you could see his muscles through the white fabric.

His brow piercing glints under the sunlight streaming in from the massive window behind you.

He still refused to look you in the eye. 

Was he shy or something? 

He was crazy gorgeous.

You loved piercings on men.

Jungkook's muscles were so hot.

Namjoon was plenty muscular too but Jungkook’s were more toned and defined. And you like that a lot. 

Ideally you didn't prefer muscular people but Jungkook's were perfect.

For the first time, you find yourself being jealous of another woman.

You couldn’t believe Hyewon’s luck. She really gets to have Jeon Jungkook to herself and call him hers. 

You almost scoff. 

Well... You would just have to change that. 

Hyewon is already leading the conversation.

“I’ve been dying to try this place!” She exclaims, flipping the menu even though she clearly knows what she wants. “I’ve always heard them talk about it.” She directs at you. 

You smile at her, but your eyes bat to Jungkook.

His face is unreadable.

His eyes flicker from the menu to his girlfriend. And then to you. 

He stares at the side of your head when you’re looking at the menu in Namjoon’s hand.

Your hair fell beautifully on your eyes.

You don’t notice because you’re focused on Namjoon. He’s describing each drink to you and Hyewon. 

The two of you then end up picking the same citrus raspberry hibiscus iced tea.

Namjoon leans toward you and points to one of the drinks in the smoothie section. “You’d like this one actually.” He explains, "It has like five kinds of berries."

You liked berries but you weren’t in the mood for anything heavy so you shook your head at his suggestion. 

When the waiter arrives, Jungkook orders for everyone.

Taking charge. Nice.

Before he concludes, he looks at you, “Are you sure you don’t want the berry smoothie? It’s sweet.”

You almost startle because this was the first time he had initiated a conversation with you in weeks. 

If Jungkook wanted you to try a berry smoothie, you were going to do just that.

It's psychology. You knew it'd inflate his ego and then maybe he'd give you a little more attention.

Smiling sweetly, you oblige. “Ok, I’ll try some.”

Namjoon raises a brow in fake-offence but lets it slide. 

Jungkook nods and adds it to the order. He then smiles at the waiter. 

You couldn’t look away. His smile was so attractive. Especially with the lip ring.

What was going on here in this place right now?

Namjoon briefly excused himself to take a work call outside.

You wave him off, asking him to hurry back.

Internally, you swore you were going to walk out if Jungkook and Hyewon started talking amongst themselves.

Jungkook sighs deeply and leans back in his stool.

As he relaxes, his shoe accidentally knocks against yours.

At that, he suddenly straightens up and throws you a quick apology. “Sorry.” 

You simply smile at him as an 'It's okay.'

An awkward minute passes.

"By the way..." Thinking quick, you use this chance to open a conversation with him now that you had his attention. "I really like your piercings. I have them too."

Jungkook has always loved receiving compliments on his piercings and body art.

So he couldn't help but tell you about them.

He purposely ignores the comment about your own piercings though. He did not need to think about that right now.

He leans forward, flattered. "Thanks... I got my ears done in my late teens. Along with my first few tats on my fingers actually."

You gasp. Finger tats???

Without asking, you reach across the table and grab his hand with both of yours, bringing it closer. "Lemme see!"

Jungkook doesn't even flinch. Instead exhales a muted laugh.

He had to admit that was kinda cute of you.

You run your fingertips gently over the small designs on his knuckles and sides of his fingers.

They were a bit faded. Except for an emoji that you absolutely did not expect. It's the crazy looking one. 🥴.

So silly.

"Do you have to keep refilling them?" You asked out of genuine curiousity.

Jungkook nods. "Yeah. These tend to fade a lot faster because your hands are always in use and exposed to the elements. And the kind of tattoos I chose are called fine line tattoos, they'd fade anywhere on your body since they're made using just one thin needle."

He later adds, "But I prefer it."

You hum, tracing the patterns with a kind of reverence that makes Hyewon stiffen.

You tilt your head. "Hmm... Like if you get bored of it, you'd just need to wait for it to go away on its own rather than get it lasered off!"

"Exactly." Jungkook slightly smirked at you.

You’re quiet for a second, focused on his fingers, then look up at him with a grin. "These are so hot. Like criminally hot."

You also shoot his girlfriend a smile so you wouldn't seem too forward or predatory.

Jungkook huffs a little laugh but doesn’t pull away.

His hand stays in yours.

It gives you butterflies. It's like you don't know what to do with his hand. It's... There.

Hyewon’s voice cuts through, sounding casual but pointed. "That’s actually the first thing I noticed too!"

With her eyes only briefly on you before settling on Jungkook, she continued, "When we reconnected last year. He had the eyebrow and lip, and I was like, wow."

Hyewon then places a hand on his bicep. Staking her claim.

You wait for more but it never comes. What the hell kinda anecdote was that?

But it made sense for her to approach him instead of the other way around.

Then you echo, still holding her boyfriend's hand, "Reconnected?"

"Yes. We were in the same uni. He's older." Hyewon smiles tightly. "And we met again at Choi Soobin's party." She adds at the end, "Last October."

Wait, Soobin? Now your attention was on her.

That man was your first friend in uni. He's two years older though, so you only spent a year with him closely. He taught you how to drink. And you stayed in touch ever since.

But he'd only had one public party last year. That had to be it. You were there!

How had you not seen Jungkook then? (You were super drunk the entire time so... It makes sense.)

"Soobin's rooftop thing, right? I was there!!" You squeak.

Hyewon smiles wider now, nodding. "You were! You wore that white Chanel t-shirt. I loved that top. It's still my favourite look of yours."

It was like the most basic look you could've pulled together, but you don't say that. Maybe it was the lilies in your hair that gratified her.

You beam, resting your elbows on the table. "Thank you, Wony."

God, you'd always remember how you acquired that top.

"That outfit almost cost me my life." You exaggerate with a phew.

Sensing a story there, Hyewon stared at you questioningly.

Finally, you exaggeratingly roll yours eyes (not at her) and release her boyfriend's hand, preparing to narrate this thing that happened to you.

Undoing your wrap top for absolutely no reason, you begin with some background--- "OK, so, there's a little boutique in Troye. Like two hours from Paris, maybe? It's an 'unofficial official' discount store for Chanel. You can only access it if you regularly spend a certain amount of money at Chanel though."

You explain. "They don't like to advertise sales because that'll break the illusion of a luxury brand."

You didn't shop Chanel often, but your mother met the mark. That's how you gained access to it.

You were more of a Miu Miu and Sandy Liang girl.

Hyewon was now very intrigued. You had just given her some crazy insider info. Something only someone like you could offer. Something she could use to her benefit.

"Anyway, this lady really wanted to play tug of war with that top. She was such a tiny woman but she actually flung me across the room!"

You had only gotten to buy that top because she got kicked out.

Hyewon was thoroughly immersed, even getting over the fact that you had been playing with her boyfriends hand nonchalantly just a minute ago. And that he had LET you.

Either way, she felt herself slowly growing a friendship with you. Like, a genuine one.

It was either super easy to impress Hyewon or she was just deluded.

Namjoon returns just as finish the tale about your wrestling match in France.

You spot him first and sit up straighten in your seat.

Jungkook looks up too, eyes flicking to his friend in silent question.

Namjoon shrugs, muttering under his breath as he drags himself back into his seat, “Handled.”

Jungkook nods once, accepting the vague answer.

You grin at Namjoon and gloat, “You just missed a really fun story.”

He plays along, amused. "Yeah?" - "Mhm." You nod, with your nose up.

Hyewon was just about to complain about the service when three plates appear in front of you seemingly out of nowhere.

It even startles the two of you. Goodness. Whatever that was all about.

Jungkook's stack of protein pancakes looked weird to you. But the whipped cream was a good choice. He also got himself a cup of coffee, without sugar or cream or anything.

So bitter.

Namjoon got a bagel sandwich. It's stuff in a bagel, it's whatever. But it was huge. The portion size seems to match the price range.

So far, Hyewon had the best looking order.

A pretty bowl of shrimp with other healthy looking stuff.

You ask if you could take a picture of it.

She just nods excitedly, asking you to tag her if you post. You do.

(Somin is side-eyeing you, BTW.)

Your smoothie looked a bit menacing though. It was scarily red. But only a sip told you otherwise. "Mmm!! Yum!" This was aimed at Jungkook who just nodded satisfyingly, and then you turn to Namjoon who shot you a smug smile.

You hum in content and reach out for the iced tea drink next.

The tea tasted like soap.

Disappointed, you frown at your straw.

The flavours of the smoothie had overpowered the tea.

You pout a little, and feel a little annoyed when nobody notices or says anything.

Jungkook did though.

Jungkook almost shook his head. Like, what did you expect?

Namjoon and Hyewon start talking about some high profile client who recently left Hyewon's firm to join J, K & K.

You hear the name in passing, some tech company whose CEO allegedly had a meth addiction.

When Namjoon mentions something about a prenup, hinting that this CEO was getting married, you see Jungkook freeze for just a breath, his fork pausing mid air.

His jaw flexes for a second before he resumes chewing.

He was clearly upset. You don't know why.

Jungkook was irritated by Namjoon's tendency to ignore confidentiality clauses. This could've been troublesome had you been someone else and listened to their conversations.

You snuck peeks at him, pretending to pay attention to Namjoon.

Jungkook's such a cutie.

You doubt he even realises it.

Sometimes, he looks so round. You bit your lip to hold back a smile.

Generally, a lunch date like this, where people had co-conversations away from you, would've bored you. But simply watching Jeon Jungkook was really fun. You don't know if he noticed you were.

(He did.)

Your legs are crossed under the table, and on impulse, you decide to do something. Just to see what happens. You uncross them slowly.

Slipping a shoe off, you inch your sock clad foot toward Jungkook’s. 

A second later, you slowly slide it next to Jungkook’s foot.

He feels it.

But doesn’t react. 

You take it a little further and rest your foot on his shoe for a minute, just to test the waters. 

And nothing.

Jungkook doesn't seem to care.

Hm… interesting.

You blink at him slowly like a cat. He was trying hard not to look at you directly. But, his eyes did involuntarily wander to you.

When he still doesn’t shake you off, you move up his ankle. You hold eye contact and watch his reaction closely.

Jungkook goes stiff. 

Letting a shaky breath out, he takes a sip of his coffee.

And at the exact same time, you drag your foot up his calf. 

His eyes widen and he chokes on his coffee, nearly breaking into a coughing fit.

Namjoon and Hyewon abruptly turn to Jungkook, startled.

Hyewon, alarmed, starts patting his back. “Are you okay, baby?”

You snatch your foot back, innocently watching him with wide, doll-like eyes. 

Jungkook furrows his brows, trying to hold his coughs in and shakes his head, reassuring his girlfriend, “Mm. Yeah, it’s- I’m ok now.” He nodded.

When he recovers, like barely, Hyewon continues with her story, not wanting to lose her train of thought. But she still glances at her boyfriend from time to time.

This was funnn. You smile cheekily.

Jungkook gives you a warning look, thinking, 'You better not act up again.'

You study him through your lashes as you suck on your straw.

And only a few beats later, you strike again.

This time, you’re bolder. Slower. Higher. Sliding your foot from his calf to his knee. Making circular, rubbing motions on it gently. 

Your core tingles a little, making you clench around nothing. 

You stare into Jungkook’s eyes, giving him a blank expression.

But he could clearly see the mischief dancing behind your irises.

And then, you make the most tender move.

You aim and press your foot directly on his thigh. 

In one swift move, he suddenly grabs your foot under the table, startling you.

You almost squeak but somehow manage to hold your shock in. Your eyes widened and fall to the plate in front of him.

Fuck.

This was exhilarating.

He’s staring you down now, unbeknownst to Hyewon and Namjoon who were looking at something on her phone. 

Jungkook holds your foot firmly on his thigh. He doesn’t let go.

Your lips part a little, unsure of what to say or do.

You glance up at Jungkook through your lashes--- and he’s still looking right at you. Eyes narrow and sharp. 

You gulp visibly and your chest heaves faintly. You bite your cheek.

He squeezes the top of your foot ever so slightly and your stomach flips. You press on to him harder.

This. Was. So. Hot.

His hand covered almost your entire foot. 

Jungkook could probably manhandle you way better than Namjoon. Joon was strong but pretty clumsy. Jungkook though… He seems to know how to use his strength. 

Involuntarily, you moan a little at the thought, accidentally drawing everyone's attention to you.

Oops.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks you. You were more than okay.

You snap your head at him and blink. “Mhm!”

Eventually, Jungkook lets go of your foot.

You behave for the rest of the meal. Still peering at Jungkook every so often.

You don’t know how Hyewon hadn’t noticed. And if she had, she didn't say anything.

You're relatively silent, only responding when spoken to. Something Jungkook secretly seemed to find delight in.

He had managed to shut you up. That's a win in his book.

When the bill comes, Jungkook grabs it before Namjoon could.

Also hot.

But before he pays, he turns to you with a raised brow, “Are you sure you don’t want anything? You barely ate.”

You’re caught off guard by this.

Was he displaying... concern?

You tilt your head. “I’m okay... I had breakfast with my family earlier.” 

“They have really good chicken salad.” Unconvinced, he suggests. “You could get a takeaway.”

You pause. The softness in his voice disarms you. You clench your toes in your shoes.

“I’m okay.” You affirm softly, hoping nobody notices your reddening cheeks. You squirm in your seat a little.

He nods and proceeds to hand his card over to the server, sneaking one final glance at you.

Although you initially dreaded it, this joint lunch had been... so, so fruitful.

More than that, you now know your advances toward Jungkook were indeed approved.

It was weird though.

You sort of felt like a school girl with a crush on her teacher.

Very strange.

next: killah (jjk) [6]

note: sorry it's so goddamn long once again, i thought i could break it into two parts but i didn't want to make you wait any longer

i skipped sleep for this so please tell me if that was worth it or not, ok? lovely

also do you guys think jks gonna tell hyewon about this or nah

[ggukivrse]

HENNA KISSES | JJK

summary. in which you're stuck waiting for your henna to dry, and jungkook takes full advantage to pepper you with kisses

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

word count: 0.6k

genre/warnings: established relationship au, FLUFF, they’re just very much in love it’s sick

notes: first of all, TYSM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS OMG :0 i literally started this acc 3 weeks ago so this is wild to me, but genuinely, thank you so so much ☹️ i wrote this drabble as a baby army so it’s very self indulgent loll, but some of you wanted to read it when i mentioned it here, so here it is :> likes, comments, reblogs, asks & feedback are very appreciated! enjoy reading <33

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

Your hands are frozen in mid-air, fingers spread, palms facing the ceiling like you're offering up something delicate to the universe. The henna glistens wetly against your skin, intricate patterns looping and curling over your fingers and wrists.

You can't move. You can't touch anything. You can't even scratch the itch teasing the inside of your elbow. And Jungkook knows it.

He's sitting cross-legged in front of you, chin resting on one hand. He looks far too pleased with himself, far too comfortable.

"You know," you say, careful not to shift too much, "this is your fault."

"My fault?" he echoes, all fake innocence, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You're the one who wanted henna."

"You're the one who did the henna," you argue, looking down at the designs blooming over your skin. Tiny flowers, delicate vines, little stars tucked into the spaces between your knuckles. "And you made it so pretty. I didn't know you could even draw like this."

He beams, the kind of smile that makes your stomach flip even though you're firmly planted on the couch. "I had good inspiration."

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are heating up. You can't even hide it; your hands are too occupied to pull a pillow over your face or smack him playfully like you usually would.

And Jungkook knows. He scoots closer, the couch cushions dipping under his weight. You narrow your eyes at him.

"Kook," you warn. "Don't you dare."

He grins, devilish, and before you can do anything, he's leaning in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, feather-light. You squeak, trying to recoil, but you can't do much without ruining the henna.

"You're defenseless," he singsongs, poking at your cheek with the gentlest tap of his finger. You jerk your head away instinctively and he laughs, low and breathy, the sound vibrating right into your chest.

"I hate you," you mutter, glaring.

"You love me," he corrects, like it's the simplest truth in the world.

And he doesn't give you a chance to argue, swooping in to press a kiss to your forehead. Another to your temple. One to the tip of your nose. He's quick about it, peppering kisses wherever he can reach, giggling when you try to dodge.

"Jungkook," you whine, laughing despite yourself. "You're going to make me mess it up!"

"I'm helping," he insists, kissing the corner of your mouth, so soft and sweet it makes your heart ache a little. "Distractions make time go faster."

You groan, slumping against the couch, careful to keep your hands up. "You're impossible."

"You picked me," he reminds you smugly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. His fingertips are warm and careful, like he knows you can't retaliate and is being extra gentle to compensate. "You and your pretty hands."

Your voice is small when you say it, but it slips out anyway. "You really did a good job."

Jungkook's smile softens. He leans back just enough to look at your hands, admiration flickering across his face like he's proud of the art and proud of you just for trusting him with it.

"You look beautiful," he says simply, no teasing now, just honest, overwhelming affection. "Hands and all."

You can't hug him. You can't kiss him back. All you can do is sit there, heart pounding out a rhythm that's almost as intricate as the designs he drew on you, and wait for the henna — and maybe your own overwhelming feelings — to dry.

taglist | click here to join: @thegreatdepressionme @golden-loona @kissyfacekoo @cookysstuff @whoa-jo @minghaosimp @dark-enigma1806 @yooniepot @levisnumber1 @blueofocean @oumy221 @uarmygguk @libra04 @parkinglot-nights @jungkook1love @eyesforjungkook @ronyiboniyy @sebastianlover @nikkinikj @kenzierj11 @bugbxte @operation-619 @gguklovrr @annyeongbitch7 @sheshya @mswannadiesworld @yunhoswrldddd @myenergyandstuff @stardustbaee

[vanillefawnn]

Leather & Lace 𖹭.ᐟ

Dean winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive content, Sam being the poor third wheel and getting stuck between you Dean's freakness, language

Summary: You like to leave Dean little trinkets when he goes on hunts, just little things to help keep you in his head when he's out on the road.

Authors note: I'm gonna tackle this man and get him PREGNANT !! (I also did NAWT proof read this sooo ye)

Dean wasn't a sentimental guy—not really. Not in the way people wrote sonnets about or cried over in movies. But there was something about you that rewired the whole system, made him soft in places he'd spent his whole life keeping armored.

It started with a polaroid.

The two of you at a diner somewhere in Missouri, your face squished against his shoulder, both of you grinning like idiots. He found it one morning tucked into the crease of Baby's dashboard, right between the speedometer and the gas gauge.

"Figured you'd miss my face," your neat hand writing read on the back.

He chuckled, thumb brushing over the image as he slid it into the glovebox. He would miss your face, hell, he already did.

From then on, it became a thing.

Every time Dean left for a hunt—wether it be with Sam or solo—there was always something left behind. A sticky note on the steering wheel that said "Drive safe, handsome. I'll be thinking about you." Sometimes, a folded square of paper that smelled just like you, perfume soaked into the fibers until it clung to the leather seats like memory.

Dean had never told you how much it meant. He didn't have to.

But then—somewhere along the line—it stopped being just sweet.

One week, he found a photograph.

And not the diner kind, either.

It was tasteful, if not exactly safe-for-work—your body clad in soft, black lacy lingerie, all curves and skin and confidence. Dean found it when he was rummaging for a cassette tape. Sam was two feet away, completely unaware.

Dean coughed—choked, really—and shoved it into his jacket pocket like it was a contraband. His ears were pink the entire drive to Minnesota.

The next time, it was a lipstick kiss on the rearview mirror. A perfectly formed pout of crimson that made his gut twist in all the right ways. He sat there for a moment, hand resting against the glass like he could somehow hold it.

Sam noticed that one.

"Oh my god," he'd muttered "Can you two not?"

Dean just smirked and peeled out of the parking lot.

But nothing—not one thing—compared to what he found this time.

He was loading up the impala, tossing a duffle into the trunk, shotgun shells rattling in his pocket. Sam was still inside. Grabbing coffee, grumbling something to himself about early mornings and the lore of the case they were working on.

Dean slide into the driver's seat, ready to start the engine—and froze.

There they were.

Hanging from the rearview mirror like the worlds most scandalous charm.

Baby blue lace panties.

Your panties.

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Nope. Still there.

Delicate, floral patterns, tiny enough to fit in the palm of his hand. His name was stitched in tiny cursive into the inner waistband—Dean, in pale silver thread. His jaw clenched.

The fuck were you trying to do to him?

He practically snatched them off the mirror, glancing around like some cop was gonna pull up and arrest him for public indecency. His fingers brushed the lace. Soft. Still warm from wherever you'd hidden them. Maybe even your skin. His brain was officially out of commission.

You'd attached a note to them, of course.

"Thought you might like to keep a little peice of me with you."

Dean was gonna die.

Actually, no—Sam was gonna die. Because the second he saw these? it was over.

Dean shoved them into the glovebox like they were ticking explosives, slamming it shut just as Sam rounded the corner with two cups.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

Dean cleared his throat. "Nope."

"Your face is red."

"It's hot."

"It's forty degrees."

Dean started the car. "Shut up."

Sam blinked. "Why does it smell like her perfume in here again?"

Dean said nothing.

Sam groaned, leaning back in his seat, already regretting this entire trip. "You two are disgusting."

Dean just smirked, hand resting on the wheel.

But later, that night, when they checked into a ratty motel, Dean opened the glovebox again—just to see them. To touch the lace. Hold them against his chest, breathe you in.

And that night, when he slipped between the sheets. He tucked the panties beneath his pillow and fell asleep to the ghost of your perfume and the sound of your voice in his head.

Yeah.

Maybe he was sentimental, after all.

[dhazefawn]

The ‘list’ has been stuck on the cool refrigerator door for a few months now. It’s in pristine condition, and that makes it even worse, considering the current state of BUCKY’S apartment. The sight strikes a chord inside him. Not in a way he’d expected. He feels weirdly content at the sight of it.

He hears Raynor’s words echo in his ears again — ever so professional, and annoyingly skilled at pointing out his every misstep.

“One step at a time,” Raynor says, her voice steady. “List the things you like—even enjoy.”

“Another list? Are you serious?” Bucky remembers scoffing in her face.

Raynor raises a single brow. He knows what that means.

“Oh, come on. What wisdom do you have to share with me now?”

“I think this list will be easy for you to write. Even enjoyable.”

Bucky remembers that conversation as he stares down at the list. The title is scribbled in a dark-colored pen already losing its ink — I enjoy like. As he remembers it, he begrudgingly thinks Raynor was right. It was easy to make, considering the fact that the examples he wrote on the list included a recurring same name.

Yours.

It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you’ll ever see it. No, you wouldn’t see that he actually enjoys the way you keep plums for him on your person. Or in the fruit bowl whenever he’s around. Or in your pocket, not bothered with it staining your clothes. You learned he liked it, so you go the extra long way of feeding him.

So, he likes the plums you give to him. Only him.

Bucky has always accepted. Begrudgingly.

That brings him to the next thing.

The way your personality could be compared to something Sam likes to call ‘sunshine’. Bucky hasn’t figured out the specifics. You’re just you in his eyes. Ever so bright, but steady and careful in your steps — so unlike him. He likes enjoys that.

Bucky is realizing the enjoyment actually feels like warmth. He’s starting to understand the ‘sunshine’ statement.

In short, he likes the way you have a certain warmth threaded into your being.

He likes the way you talk, too. A simple detail. Something he doesn’t think anyone else has noticed. Or maybe he’s reading into it. Or maybe you talk that way only when he’s around. He’d like that to be true, for some reason. You’re ever so careful not to slip in front of others. Not to ‘talk too much,’ as you put it.

Bucky enjoyed hearing you speak. To him, especially. You called it ‘rambling,’ but to him it’s the only sound that doesn’t grate on his ears. Every note of your words brings him a reverie he can’t get anymore from white noise or the television still on in the background as he tries to sleep.

Okay. He enjoys hearing you talk. To him, that is.

Bucky likes your face too. He struggled to write that one on the list, though. Struggled to explain why he’d want to even write it. How does he explain he likes the way your brows furrow every time you study a case? Or when you pick up a menu. Or when you’re reading a book you like. He likes your dopey grin. That stupid grin that dances on your face way too much. He notes the way your eyes smile alongside it too.

Sighing, he keeps the confusing fact that he likes your face on the list.

The last example on the page remains empty. He tries to think of something different to write.

Bucky likes his cat. Alpine likes you.

God damnit, he circled back.

Bucky is thankful for Sam. Sam always brings you around for everything.

He groans, realizing this may be a pattern. A pattern he’s starting to understand — one he isn't afraid of, surprisingly.

A single name is written at the end of the list.

You know it very well.

[en-lov3r]

The Wedding Secret | s.jy

Summary: Your about to get married to your soon to be husband. The wedding was going well, but you soon realize his best friend will be there, the one you had an affair with in a trip during your vacation with your husband. As you walk down the aisle, the guilt your about to face will be a moment you won't forget for the rest of your life as the secret has spilled during the wedding ceremony, not also cause of the cheating, but something that will affect your life, permanently.

⛪︎Pairing: Fiance's best friend!Jake x fem!reader

⛪︎Genre: Smut, angst, Yandere

⛪︎Warnings: semi public sex, foot rubbing, creampie, squirting, pussy and ass licking/eating, unprotected sex, clandestine, ovulating, talked about abortion, yelling, posessiveness, big cock, fighting, public indecency, torment, anxiety, gagging, deepthroating, rough sex, pre natal pills, kidnapping, sleeping gas, unconciousness, infidelity, cheating, not proofread!

⛪︎Word Count: 3,525 words

—Note: Thank you guys so much for 371 followers!!! It means so much for me. I know I haven't wrote one in a long time so I've thought to share you guys this smutty story I thought of while I was at home. Enjoy :)

You were getting ready for your wedding. The thought of getting married never occurred to you as it felt such a fever dream. You had all your family and some friends gathered around you . You were in a gorgeous wedding dress, it was a dreamy cascade of ivory lace, with delicate floral patterns trailing down the sleeves and a soft, sweeping train that made you feel like you had stepped out of a fairytale. It was all too surreal to even imagine. As you were getting your last finishing touches with your makeup, a forbidden moment has struck your head, feeling all so infidelitous. You start to prepare and get in the car, now ready to walk down the aisle, some of your family members, distant relatives, some friends, and bridesmaid are already there and the groomsmen too, knowing his best man, Jake is also waiting along with your soon to be husband. You knew you were unfaithful, because of that one moment you had with your man's best friend...

During a vacation trip at a ferry. A month before your wedding. You met your fiancé 's best friend for the first time. He was charming, his gummy smile and his eyes, you can tell his demeanor was flirtatious, the way he carried himself during conversations, everything about him was so dreamy. You knew your feelings about him are going to be unrequited, as what you wanted to keep it that way since that day. Along with some of your fiancé s friends, you've all gathered around a table communicating and chatting, his friends were congratulating you guys on your engagement, you were too shy but pleased to hear everyone's comments. But you were incredibly shy to know that your fiancé's friend Jake was sitting in the opposite side of you, facing directly at you, his eyes captivated your soul, bring you closer and closer to him, he can tell that you kept looking at him frequently, it just so happens that on that day, you wore an ivory sundress, so light and breezy, fluttering gently in the sea breeze as its soft floral print catches the sunlight and dances with each salty gust of wind.

The direction of the wind was also at his side as you had to place your hands on your thighs, in order for the sundress to not be blown in the wind, it would not be modest for your dress to be shown to the whole world. Jake however soon noticed your behavior, he was quite chatty at first but he became quiet. You'd figured his social battery probably was drained. He kept smiling a lot and you were lost into him until something happened...

shrieks You felt something between your legs as a whole foot has now descended and is inappropriately touching your pussy. That sweaty black sock foot has been fickling at your clit. You then began to slowly look up and see Jake's smirk. He slanted his back just to reach you. He kept fiddling at your pussy as he couldn't have enough. You felt so good you closed your eyes for a moment before you even took a breath. You can see his eyes changed, he seemed more focus and unaware of his surroundings that you can see he was enjoying what he was doing to you, a drip of saliva unoticebly sllid down from the corner of his mouth down, panting as he wanted more. He was sitting like a dog in heat.

"You okay sweetie?" Your fiancé asked. "Y- Yeah! I just am so happy I couldn't contain my excitement any longer." Forcing my mouth into a grin, as I flinched once more as Jake started rubbing his big toe into a smooth circle, ruining your pussy. You knew Jake was hot, your mind and soul didn't want him but your body says yes for an answer. You couldn't bear this fantasy both of you guys were having right now as you then excused yourself to use the restroom. "Sweetie I'm going to use the restroom, I'll be back okay?"

"Alright then, hurry up now alright?"

Jake abruptly stands up. "I got to use the restroom too." He simpered.

"Great, show my girl where the restroom is, she's never been in this ferry before."

You saw Jake looked down, knowing he put his foot now drenched a bit in your pussy juices back in his shoe, now escorting you. You can just hear the squeaky noises his shoe makes as you guys kept walking. Until your table was out of sight, he then slapped his hand on your ass, grabbing you, squishing it as if it were play dough, so soft to his veiny hard hands, he then turned to the right and whispered to your ear, "Let's go inside together." Your ear instantly turned red and you obeyed. "Okay."

He forcefully grabs your wrist as he walks to the nearest empty bathroom stall there is, once you guys entered, he went behind you and locked the door, huffing and panting as he finally waited for this moment. "Fucking finally." He sighed. "I never knew a hot woman like you when my best friend introduced you to me." He grinned widely.

He began to wrap his hands around your neck, the pressure was a bit overwhelming as he had you in a choke hold. He then proceeded to put his burning lips onto your neck, giggling against your skin. "Jake.." You whined at him. His warm and damp skin rubbing against yours made you feel hotter than you already were.

“What is it baby?” He rasped, brushing his lips against my skin.

"I don't think we should do this." You whimpered.

You pulled aback from him, he looked quite shocked. As soon as you were about to unlock the door, he forcefully grabbed you by the waist as you felt his rock hard bulge digging up against your ass. He lied his head against your back, not making you leave. "H- Hah. Where do you think your going?" You tried to escape from his grasp but you unsuccessfully managed to as he then proceeded to whisper behind your ear. "I'm not letting you leave until I use you completely."

Your face instantly turned red but you know that there's no turning back. With all the effort there was in escaping, you knew there was no hope. You gave up and you let him take over you completely. You turned your head as you locked eye to eye with him and looked down on his pink plump lips and went forward to kiss him. He presses a kiss against your lips, pushing his tongue inside as his hands wrap themselves around your waist. you can hear his muffled groans spilling into your lips as he passionately grinds himself against you, and when he pulls back the both of you are breathless, and it takes him only a moment before he lunges forward to place marks against your neck. You kept moaning so much he put his hand over your mouth to shut you up. He hurriedly took off his pants as he placed his hands on your shoulder and made you turn to face him. You knew what you had to do. You already see his boner sticking through the fabric of his underwear, pulsating at the sight of seeing you. He smiled "Suck my dick." You nodded. He then closed the toilet as he sat down, his dick already throbbing. As you’re knelt down on your knees in front of Jake and his semi hard cock is hiding under the edge of his underwear that's around his thighs, you looked up and replied.

"I don't want my fiancé to find out." You said anxiously.

"Don't worry sweetie" He gracefully put his hand on your cheek and rubbed it just so soft and gentle. "He won't know."

He looks down on you while you take off his underwear, just where it stopped at the rim of the toilet seat. Your mouth began watering. His cock was so huge you gasped. "Your cock, is so huge."

"You like? This is all for you baby."

You knew that your fiancé 's dick cannot compare to Jake's. His cock was half the size of your arm. The cock smell was so intense. You knew his balls smelt amazing. “mhm.” he hums as he feels the hot drag of your tongue over the curve of his tip. you mouth your way down his thick length, drooling down his dick causing it to gather at your fist wrapped around the base. with your mouth attached to his tip, you give him another stroke, spreading the spit along his length. with a shaky breath, you ease your lips down his cock. Jake bites back a groan when he feels his tip brush against the back of your throat. You knew you were pleasuring him so good you tried to deepthroat it. you swallow on his cock, gagging as you try to control your breathing. You’re starting to slobber, causing thick bubbles of spit and precum beginning to collect on his length. even with the slick slide of your lips on his skin, tears brim your eyes once more as you choke and sputter around his length. "More." He panted as he grabbed your head and made you deepthroat his cock all the way down, gobbling it until it reaches the back of your throat once more, the bounce of his cock burying deep inside your throat, making you gag and choke on his precum juices and saliva. "Oh f-fuck- Too bad your marrying my best friend. You can have this cock all day everyday as you want." His cock was too much for you to handle, but you wanted more.

He then started to get up and you knew what your fate would be. "Just don't cum inside me please." You were ovulating that day and you knew there could be a chance you can get pregnant. There were no contraceptives so the only choice was for him to pull out. But something in his eyes was a bit sinister and skeptical to you. "Don't worry baby I'll pull out when I'm about to unload my cum." He then gave you another kiss to the cheek. You were so shy with the whole situation that you knew today would just be the only day and you'll get back to your life living happily married with your man. You turned and faced the bathroom door, your arms up, as he slowly unbuttons your dress and it plopped down the floor, revealing your body to him. "Oh fuck baby, your so fucking gorgeous." He began to touch you in all sorts of ways, fiddling your boobs, carressing your arms, touching your nipples, then he went down as he placed both of his hands on your butt and began licking to it. Trying to taste every part of you, his tongue was doing all the motion. It made you feel so good. "Do you like that?" He said. "Y-yes, it's so good I-" You stopped as he began to nibble at your clit, before licking it at it. “So pink . .my favourite, wet pink.” He mumbles, pulling away and looking at you, bringing one hand to spread your lips. And then he’s back at it again, sucking her and licking at her walls. 

“I'm about to cum on your face!" You gasped. your stomach tightening at his words. You shove a hand into his fluffy hair, making sure he stays there, whilst you thrusts into his face, grinding against his tongue from time to time. 

"F-fuckkkk!" You squirted juices in front of his face like a gusher as Jake started opening his mouth and drinking your juices, so erotic his face is now covered with your cum juices. "So fucking tasty."

You then took a moment to catch your breath as he soon started to slide his cock between your thighs.

"Tell me how much you want it." His cock started sliding back and forth as he kept rocking his hips, feeling his hairy crotch repeatedly at every second. The tight space, his hips pushing forward, groaning as your warm pussy gets him wet. The tip of his cock soon nudges your clit as he press harder. Both of you guys so horny but you wanted his cock inside you so bad. "Give it to me." You said. You then pushed back as his cock slid inside your pussy, so wet you can feel him moving. "Oh f- fuck. Your pussy is so good..." Jake closed his eyes for a moment while he's fucking you. It was too much for him as he began to pick up the pace, fondling your tits as he started to lick behind your ear, feeling all so erogenous and sensitive you let him have his way with you.

He’s pounding relentlessly into your cunt, eliciting sweet moans out of you. you claw at his back, whimpering, telling him that your sweet pussy can’t take it anymore.

But he seems to know your cunt better than you do. he’s still relentlessly pounding, rubbing soft circles onto your clit, as the tip of his thick dick kept kissing your g-spot, leaving you a babbling mess under him.

His cock still bullying your squelching pussy, watching as the juices flowed down your thighs, a mix of clear and white colors.

"J-Jake, please I can't breathe." You panted.

“Your pussy screams otherwise.” he groaned, watching the way your cunt swallowed him whole till his thick, full base, slicked wet with your juices.

He then put your boobs in front of his face, as he put his head over your shoulder onto your chest. His mouth attached to your tits, tongue swirling around your perked nipple while his hips now start to stutter with every stroke. He loves being above you, slowly rocking you into your next orgasm. He knows when you want it harder, you don’t even have to ask before he’s flipping your body over, ass up to his view as he watches your hole clench around nothing before he’s slamming his stiff cock back into you. “my pretty girl wants it harder, yeah?” he coos, gripping your hips and he’s sending you off the edge again. You can already tell he's getting closer, he's violently shaking his hips, putting that big cock of his deep inside your clit.

"Don't cum inside okay?" You said.

"You think I would stop now that we got to this point, your going to be mine now."

He exhaustedly fucks you so hard your legs can't even feel for themselves. "No!" "Don't please!" You begged, as much as the sex felt good you cannot have him cum inside you.

"Too late for that now." He laughed. "Get ready to have my babies inside you."

"Take it all in you SLUT!" He exasperated

"NOo!" You exclaimed as you felt his grip onto your arms, holding you back from even reaching the door once more as he pounds into that clit, biting his lips as he kept cumming inside that pretty cunt of yours. You hold onto the door as he kept filling you up. Feeling hot spurts of white cum painting your walls white.

"Oh my god~" He rolled his eyes and he sank onto the toilet smiling back at you, licking his lips.

As he's still catching your breath. You know your fiancé will question why you guys took so long. You then hurriedly put back your dress and unlocked the restroom door. Luckily there was no one but you guys in the restroom. You still feel some of his cum juices dripping on the sundress so you went to the faucet and splattered water around your butt and legs to not make it all seem suspicious. You ran out and went up a floor until you reached the deck and soon you saw your fiancé as the ferry was reaching closer to the dock.

"Hey? Where have you guys been?" He inquired.

You saw him and his friends staring at you that you muttered.

"I- I was in the restroom, the food here kept me up all long there. Let's go home quickly."

"S-sure? Let's wait for Jake to come back, where was he anyway?"

"He just dropped me off the restroom and went someplace else, he-"

footsteps approaching

Your heart dropped. You knew it was Jake. You turned behind and saw him, carrying what seemed to be unusual, high end lobster tails covered with butter on a big platter. "Let's eat guys, we don't want to stay hungry don't we?" He smiled, staring menacingly at you.

You guys then took a seat and started to eat. You didn't feel like eating so you let your fiancé get your food. Your fiancé then asked Jake why he took a while before he explained it was because the Chef needed more time to cook the lobster. Just when the ferry landed, you quickly took your fiancé's hand after he said farewell to his buddies, in the distance you see Jake waving, smiling all so happily.

As soon as you went home. You were scared for what's going to happen. Your life went by as usual getting ready for the wedding and plans and around a week passes by as you took a pregnancy test and results came back with two lines. You knew you wanted an abortion so you scheduled it around a month after your last period for an appointment. You never told anyone this, not even your family or friends.

Now that the present day is here. The entrance to the church opens and now reveals you gorgeously walking down the aisle. Family, friends, your fiancé crying as they see you, looking so beautiful. This is what you wanted, but as soon as you saw Jake, who's graceful smile glinted at you, you avoided eye contact. As you wrap with your vows and speech, the pastor asked if anybody objected. No one did. Until Jake said something.

"I actually have something to say."

Your heart stopped.

He then pulled out a pregnancy test and there behold, it said positive.

You felt like you were going to throw up. Jake then glanced at you then said to the whole audience, "Me and Y/N are pregnant."

The audience gasped, your parents in dismay, and your fiancé , furious.

"WHAT is the meaning of this Y/N?" Your soon to be husband grunted.

"I- I can explain." Tears started started forming in your eyes and you didn't know what to say. You saw everyone staring at you, bewildered and confused as to what's happening.

He then tackled Jake and started to punch his face. Jake kept dodging and trying to tackle him now. The groomsmen tried to stop them from engaging in the fight and you, as now a runaway bride went back down the same aisle you walked into the church and tearing up you went out, your family and friends rushing behind you, this whole secret now is spilled and it felt like the day you'll never forget ever.

A month passed as your apoointment came, you still cry about it but you knew that what you did would forever be unforgivable. Your husband never responded to any of your texts as he kicked you out of the house and you stayed at your parents. As you discussed with your doctor, she asked if you had any second thoughts before aborting the baby. You've thought about it and afterwards you walked out the hospital.

You went back home and you saw Jake standing in front of your door, your mom yelling at him. You'd wondered how he found out your address but before that, he ran to you and asked where you'd went. Your mom instantly yelled, "She aborted your baby now get out!"

He was shocked. He fell down to his knees crying, he looked like he was carrying a bag with pre-natal pills and foods that'll support your pregnancy. He had a stoic expression "Why?" He said. He was holding your hands, as you looked at him, a tear was falling out of his left eye. But you didn't want to say your keeping the baby, as much as his handsome face is being ruined by his own tears, you said to his face, "Leave now please." He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it, his car was waiting for him. But something you didn't expect, he took you, carrying you off to his car, his bodyguards stopping your parents and family from trying to get you back. "What are you doing? LEAVE MY DAUGHTER ALONE!" Your dad cried. You tried to escape but you know it wouldn't even matter anyway.

Once inside the car, it started driving. You tried hitting his face opening the car door, kicking your feet, you then saw Jake and his bodyguards put on masks, before you even get to realize, gas suddenly came out and you fell asleep. Jake's caressing your cheek as he finally has you under his grasp.

"Guess I'm going to have to train you, you'll never escape from me." He smirked

[yzzyhee]

lucky three — sjy & psh

bf!jake x fem!bodied yn x bf!sunghoon

warnings: established poly relationships, mlm ( 1 kiss sorry 🧌 ), kisses? idk just fluff mostly (98%) , maybe petnames?? not proofread, anything else lmk!

synopsis: on a rainy afternoon, you and your boyfriends realise how lucky the three of you are to have found each other

wc: 1.4k

a/n: idk guys its just my bday… its been raining for the past two days and i badly need this to happen to me + what aj wrote in her guess who fic 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 read it now.

jake’s arm drapes lazily around your shoulders, while sunghoon’s head rests comfortably on your lap. the three of you fit together as if you have been carved out from the same piece of clay. nothing ever feels incomplete when you are all together.

"tell me again why we decided to stay in today?" jake asks, his voice low but with a playful lilt as he tilts his head toward you. he traces lazy patterns with his fingers along your arm, the touch sending electric warmth through your skin. he is always tactile — always touching, as if afraid you will slip through his fingers.

"because it's raining, and i love the sound of it," you reply softly, your hand brushing through sunghoon’s raven-black hair. he closes his eyes, his lips tugging upward slightly, clearly enjoying the soothing motion of your fingers. sunghoon is quieter — thoughtful; his affection comes in soft waves, almost unnoticeable until you are pulled under and engulfed by the depth of his love.

"you love the rain, but jake hates it," sunghoon finally speaks, his eyes still closed. his voice deep, resonating through the quiet atmosphere of the room.

" i don’t hate it. i just don’t love it like she does," jake teases back, glancing at sunghoon before turning his gaze to you. his eyes, always full of light, sparkle with a mischievous glint.

it has been like this for a while now — your lives intertwined so naturally. your relationship feels like a melody, each of you three contributing with a different note and yet when you’re together, you create the perfect harmony. sunghoon brings calmness and stability, a quiet strength. jake is the warmth, the laughter, the chaos and you’re the centre, grounding them both in a way they never realise they need.

you shift slightly, pulling your legs under you and leaning back into jake’s chest. you sigh, contentment washing over your face like the rain outside.

"you know," you say softly, "i don’t think I've ever been this happy."

jake's fingers stop their movement as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple. "that’s because you’ve got both of us," he whispers against your skin, his breath warm.

sunghoon opens his eyes at this, a small smirk playing on his lips. "he’s not wrong," he says, shifting so that he can sit up and face you. his eyes meet yours, dark and intense, but filled with so much love it nearly takes your breath away. "you’re our everything."

you feel a lump form in your throat at his words. it’s moments like this — when they are so open, so raw with their emotions — that remind you just how deep your connection goes. the world outside doesn’t understand it;

some people judge, others whisper behind your backs. but none of that matters when it is just the three of you, like now, tangled in each other’s arms, completely content with the love you have found.

"i still remember the first time we told you," jake says suddenly, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "i thought for sure you’d reject the idea."

"reject you? never," you respond, shaking your head "you know i could never say no to either of you."

sunghoon raises an eyebrow, playful skepticism in his eyes. "you hesitated, though. for a second."

"i didn’t hesitate," you insist, but there is a teasing tone in your voice. "i was just…surprised, that’s all. it’s not every day you realise two guys you love are willing to share a relationship with each other and with you."

"and you never looked back," jake adds with a grin, his eyes filled with pride. "you belong with us."

sunghoon’s hand finds yours, gently pulling it into his lap, thumb tracing the back of your hand. his touch is always soothing, like an anchor in a storm. "we belong with you, too," he corrects, his voice tender.

your relationship is unconventional — some would even say complicated. but it isn’t for you. for you, sunghoon and jake it’s something as natural as breathing. there are no jealousy-fueled fights, no insecurities you haven’t already talked through. communication has always been your greatest strength. yes, it isn’t always easy, but you make it work because none of you can imagine life any other way.

"you two are everything to me," you say softly, looking between them. "i mean it. i don’t care what anyone else says."

jake's hand tightens on your shoulder, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "we’re yours. always."

sunghoon nods, his expression soft but serious. "we’re in this for the long haul, yn. you know that, right?"

"i know," you whisper, your heart swelling with emotion. "and i wouldn’t have it any other way."

the rain outside seems to slow, softening into a light drizzle as if mirroring the quiet calm that has settled over the room. jake’s eyes meet sunghoon’s, a silent understanding passing between them before jake speaks.

jake’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries all the weight of the moment. “come here,” he says, his fingers lightly tilting your chin to face him.

shift slightly, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and love that bubbles beneath the surface. the connection between the three of you is palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. jake’s lips brush against yours in the softest of kisses — tender, almost hesitant. it’s sweet, gentle and yet it sends shivers down your spine, the kind that makes you melt into him even further.

sunghoon watches quietly, his dark eyes studying the two of you with a calm intensity. there’s no jealousy, only a quiet reverence for the love you share. after a moment, he reaches out, his hand resting on the side of your face, guiding you toward him. his lips meet yours next, the kiss deeper, slower. where jake’s kiss was light and playful, sunghoon’s is grounding — steady, like him. his thumb caresses your cheek as he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, both of you breathing in sync.

"you’re so beautiful," sunghoon murmurs, his voice deep and quiet.

jake presses a kiss to your shoulder before leaning back into the couch, watching the two of you with a soft smile. “i could stay like this forever,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet but only adding to the warmth surrounding all three of you. “just the three of us, like this.”

you let out a soft laugh, leaning into the warmth of jake’s chest and resting a hand on sunghoon’s knee. “we really do fit together, don’t we?”

sunghoon nods in agreement, his fingers running absentmindedly along the hem of your shirt, a comforting gesture. “perfectly,” he says softly, almost as if he’s still amazed by how seamlessly you all connect.

jake chuckles, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. “we’re like puzzle pieces. weird, unconventional puzzle pieces, but we fit.” his grin widens, eyes sparkling mischievously. “and no one else can figure it out but us.”

the three of you share a soft laugh, the kind that fills the room with a warmth even the rain can’t dampen. outside, the storm has softened to a gentle drizzle, the rhythmic patter of raindrops on the window creating a peaceful lullaby.

sunghoon leans in again, this time pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before turning to jake. there’s a pause, an unspoken invitation hanging between them before jake smiles and leans forward. their kiss is unhurried, filled with a mutual tenderness and understanding that never fails to make your heart swell. when they part it’s with a soft sigh, their foreheads resting together for just a moment longer.

you watch them, feeling a deep sense of contentment settle in your chest, you’ve never felt more at peace, more loved than in moments like these — wrapped in the arms of the two people who mean the world to you.

“let’s stay like this a little longer,” you suggest quietly, not ready to break the spell of the lazy afternoon.

jake chuckles softly, pulling you closer to him. “i’m not going anywhere.”

sunghoon hums in agreement, his thumb still tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. “we’re right where we’re supposed to be.”

and with that, the three of you settle back into the quiet comfort of each other’s embrace, the rain outside fading into the background as your world becomes nothing but the love and warmth that you share.

it’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are — to have found not just one, but two souls that complete you in ways you never thought possible.

[maeintree]

almost doesn't count | s. reid

Summary: Spencer Reid has been crushing on you ever since you joined the BAU, and Valentine’s Day feels like the perfect time to finally ask you out Pairing: early seasons!Spencer Reid x agent!fem!Reader Word Count: -900 Author's Note: just some fillers to put something on my masterlist! and some lil lovey dovey valentine's day fics!! this is really short but i missed spencer so here ya go!

Spencer Reid had been working up the courage for weeks.

It wasn’t as if asking someone out was an impossible feat—he had recited entire passages of obscure literature from memory, broken down complex behavioral patterns in serial killers, and once even explained the mechanics of quantum entanglement to Morgan (who had promptly told him to shut up).

But somehow, walking up to you and asking you out on Valentine’s Day seemed more daunting than anything he’d ever faced before.

His crush on you had been a quiet thing at first, sneaking up on him the moment you joined the team. It started with stolen glances across the bullpen, the way your laugh made his heart stutter, and how you always listened—really listened—when he rambled. And then, before he knew it, you were in his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

So, on Valentine’s Day, he made a decision: he was going to ask you out.

It started with a simple Valentine’s Day card. Well, simple in theory. In reality, it was an intricately folded piece of card-stock, filled with Spencer’s neat (?) but small handwriting, detailing an absurdly specific statistic about the origins of Valentine’s Day traditions.

You knew it was meant to be sweet, in his own Spencer way, but it also made your heart race in ways you weren’t prepared to admit.

Spencer, naturally, was oblivious.

“So, historically, Valentine’s Day wasn’t actually a romantic holiday,” he had begun, sitting across from you in the BAU’s break room, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. “It originated from the Roman festival Lupercalia, which was a—uh—fertility ritual involving the sacrifice of goats and, um, the slapping of women with strips of their hides.

Which is—obviously—not romantic at all, but somewhere around the 14th century, Geoffrey Chaucer wrote ‘Parlement of Foules,’ and that’s where the association with love really started. Although there’s also speculation that St. Valentine himself was a priest who performed marriages in secret, which is why—”

You leaned forward, watching him with amusement as he continued rambling, the words spilling out at an almost frantic pace.

It was endearing, the way he talked so much when he was nervous, and you weren’t sure if he was even aware of how much he was saying at this point.

“Spencer,” you interrupted gently, resting a hand over his. “Breathe.”

He blinked rapidly, as if suddenly realizing he hadn’t taken a proper breath in minutes. “Right. Breathing. That’s—uh—important.”

His cheeks turned a shade of pink that rivaled the candy hearts Garcia had placed around the office. “What I—I mean, what I was trying to say is that I know Valentine’s Day is usually about, um, flowers and chocolates and not historical analysis, but I—uh—I wanted to give you something that—”

“That’s uniquely you?” you offered, smiling.

He exhaled, relieved. “Yes. Exactly.”

You took the card, running your fingers over the embossed edges. It was thoughtful, sweet, and—most importantly—Spencer. “I love it.”

Spencer’s face lit up in a way that made your heart stutter. But before either of you could say anything more, a loud whistle from the doorway made you both turn.

“Reid,” Morgan drawled, grinning as he sauntered in. “Did I just hear you giving a TED Talk on Valentine’s Day?”

Behind him, JJ and Emily exchanged knowing smirks, while Hotch simply raised an eyebrow in quiet amusement.

“Oh, he didn’t just give a TED Talk,” Garcia chimed in, appearing suddenly with her arms full of pink-wrapped candies. “Our resident genius just made the most adorably awkward Valentine’s confession in BAU history.”

Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate all of you.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Spencer.”

And despite his embarrassment, despite the teasing, despite the overwhelming urge to disappear into the floor, Spencer smiled. Because, for once, he didn’t entirely mind being the center of attention.

It was supposed to be simple. Once everyone clocked out, he’d find you outside, ask if you wanted to get dinner—something casual, no pressure. But as he stepped outside, he saw you before he could call your name.

And he saw the man standing next to you.

Saw the way you smiled at him. Saw the way he cupped your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.

Spencer stopped in his tracks, feeling his heart plummet to his stomach. The words he had rehearsed in his head over and over evaporated into nothing.

The man pulled away, and you hugged him before stepping into a car, leaving Spencer frozen where he stood.

“Well, that sucks,” Garcia’s voice cut in, startling him. He hadn’t even noticed her walking up beside him, arms crossed as she watched the same scene unfold.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Who is he?”

Garcia tilted her head, looking at him like she was about to break bad news. “That’s her boyfriend. Aren’t they cute?”

Spencer felt something in his chest tighten, but he forced a small smile. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They are.”

Garcia’s face softened. “Spence…”

But he was already turning back toward the parking lot, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Garcia.”

She sighed, watching him walk away, before muttering under her breath, “Okay..”

help this feels so ooc for him, i'm so used to writing cocky people.. i'm so sorry! but anyhow, likes, comments, & reposts are greatly appreciated!

[sky-scribbles]

Next up on Things I Liked About Veilguard: the faction leaders. We all know some of the factions and their NPCs did not get anything like the amount of content and character that others did (Strife and Irelin I'm so sorry, I still love you), but sometimes I take a step back and realise how wonderful the stuff we did get was.

I mean - Evka and Antoine. Everything about them is so heartfelt. I hadn't read the supplemental material, but they barely needed to interact before I understood why this sweet, smart guy and this tough, smart woman loved each other. They affirm each other constantly. They respect each other so deeply. They have written letters for the other to take to their Callings: a cipher only Antoine could read. Je t'aime. Je t'aimerai toujours.

I love how Myrna and Vorgoth are introduced, suddenly and unsettlingly there in the Lighthouse. I love Vorgoth speaking in all caps. I love the fact that nobody knows what they are. I love that they raised baby Ingellvar. I love how Myrna is calm and polished while every so often coming out with the absolute wildest shit. They're fun.

The Viper and Tarquin? Top tier. They might be my favourites, just because of how much they have going on. Each of them has a backstory, and you can see exactly how those backstories produced their personalities. Ashur has a secret identity you can piece together from notes and codexes (and it's the funniest identity possible). I love their argument over Ashur's paranoid investigation into Tarquin, because it shows that the world goes on when Rook is not in the room, and the NPCs have relationships that go through ups and downs.

I'm mildly insane over the level of devotion, with Tarquin's desperate letters to the Wardens if Ashur is blighted, begging for a cure Ashur won't take. Him standing over Ashur to defend him in the final mission, or else his devastating reaction if Ashur dies: 'It should have been me!' God, these NPCs are alive. (fun fact: I wrote most of this post, and then Sheryl Chee confirmed these two were written as being in love with each other and stupid about it. I'm so happy.)

Speaking of NPCs who love each other: Teia and Viago, my beloveds. Again, I was coming in without the supplemental material, and I was sold on them so fast. The way Viago tenderly cradles Teia from behind as they mourn Caterina. The way they're so involved in Lucanis's personal quests - they're his family, they're there for him, they love him. I love Teia's fierceness and her heart. I love their banter - so much mutual understanding, exasperation and affection mixed together. 'We know each other too well to be strangers.'

Isabela is as wonderful as she always is - I especially appreciate how her depiction in Veilguard makes it clear just how loving she is. But can we also talk about Rowan? (I don't know if she's technically considered a faction leader, but meh.) I love her poetic speech patterns; I love that she's a scholar who wrote a bunch of codex entires; I love her calm, soothing voice. I love getting to see a Rivani Seer at last. And I love how she'll suddenly turn around and say, still calm and soothing, 'Spirit of Determination: may your enemies die bitter and in pain.' Perfect, no notes.

Strife and Irelin, sadly, drew the shortest straw when it came to being fleshed out in-game. But what I do love about them is their relationships with your companions. I love the tiny detail of Irelin, Bellara's ex, helping her pack for the Lighthouse; I love how she writes to Bellara to beg her to take care of herself, because she still matters to her.

And while I am a profound Emmrook lover, I appreciate Emmrich/Strife so much too. I love their shared curiosity and sense of adventure; I love thinking that Emmrich might give Strife tenderness that his life has lacked, while Strife could help nudge Emmrich toward boldness. I love the idea of two older men who likely think love has passed them by suddenly going, oh. If the Veil Jumpers didn't get a deeper relationship with Rook, at least they got relationships with Rook's friends.

Dragon Age games always give us a fun roster of companions, but honestly? Veilguard got me invested in the non-companion NPCs more than any other game in the series. Yes, there should have been more - but what we got was so much fun.

tl;dr: Faction leaders, my beloveds.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Whumpcember (day 15)

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Prompt: Broken glass

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: slight mentions of panic attacks; crying; slight injury and blood; Bucky being a sweetheart because I love him so much

Author’s note: This got unnecessarily long somehow. Again, this was meant to be a shorty. Also, I was in my feels when I wrote this. Anyway, thank you for reading!

Masterlist | Whumpcember Masterlist

The final box of Christmas decorations thuds to the ground as you let it down with a heavy huff. You straighten up your back with a grimace, rolling your shoulders.

You might think as an Avenger, carrying a few boxes, would be an easy task. After all, you are trained to thrive under the most punishing conditions, with sharp skills and boundless stamina. But after hauling all those cartons stuffed with tinsel, garlands, and ornaments up from the storage room to the towering Christmas tree in the compound’s common area, you are left panting like you’ve just run a marathon.

It’s almost laughable. Thankfully, you are alone for now. Sam would have a field day, smug grin plastered across his face at the state you’re in.

Wanda, Natasha, and Clint meant to help you with this but they were all still glued to the desk, writing reports, but Bucky is supposed to be back from his latest mission any minute now and you wanted to do this nice thing for him at least. He did sound a little worn out on the phone earlier when he called you to tell you they were on their way back.

So perhaps decorating the Christmas tree would lift his spirit a tiny bit. It’s the first step in what you hope will be a cozy and inviting scene - something Bucky might walk into and, for once, not feel like a soldier returning from a war zone but a man coming home.

The tree is a statement, of course. Tony insisted on it. It’s so tall, it might even brush the high ceiling of the room and there is no way you’ll get some ornaments all the way up without risking your life. And Bucky would definitely not brighten up if you tried it out.

So you’ll absolutely be needing Wanda’s help sooner or later. With a flick of her wrist, she could make this whole thing a hell of a lot easier but you don’t have the time to wait until she is done writing her report.

You let your eyes roam over the many ornaments lying neatly in the box before you and one of them immediately sparks your attention. Your fingers brush against the delicate surface of the red ornament placed almost carefully beside the others.

Its glass is smooth and cool, the color a deep crimson so much more in depth than all the others. You hold it up to the light, turning it slowly, marveling at how the glow from the tree’s string lights catches on its curves and the unique and detailed pattern all across.

It’s heavier than expected, the weight surprising for something so fragile. The gold clasp at the top gleams faintly, tarnished just a little with age. A thin ribbon dangles from it, curling at the end like it has been tied and untied countless times.

There is something about it, some intangible quality that draws you in - a sense of history, of significance.

And then it happens.

The ribbon slips from your grasp, too quick for your fingers to snatch it back. If you weren’t so enamored with the beautiful piece, you would have gotten access to your reflexes a little earlier.

It’s too late now though, and you can only watch in stunned silence as the ornament tumbles to the ground, the crimson surface catching flashes of light as it falls.

It hits the hardwood floor with a sound that is both sharp and final - a crack, then a splintering.

Disappointed in yourself, you crouch down to the shattered remains. Tiny shards of glass fan out like a constellation, glinting under the glow of the tree. The ornament is no longer whole, splintered into different-sized fragments.

Annoyed that you were so stupid and careless to let this special ornament fall to its devastation, you begin to pick up the many red pieces into your palm.

It really was unique. It would have looked great on the tree-

Your movements freeze. Your heart leaps to your throat. A rush of panic claws at your chest and rises up to your ears where it floods and pounds tremendously.

Rebecca B.

It’s a name ingrained into the largest surviving piece of the glass - a faint, looping scrawl. Clearly written by hand.

Rebecca Barnes. The realization makes you weak in the knees and you fall back onto your heels, your ass hitting the floor with a thump.

This isn’t just some random ornament. This isn’t another piece of holiday cheer to hang on a tree and forget about for the rest of the year after packing it back into boxes to store it in a corner of the storage room.

This ornament belonged to Rebecca Barnes. Bucky’s sister. Something Bucky kept all these years, hidden among the other decorations like a relic of a life he’d lost long before his own had been ripped apart.

The air around you feels heavy. The smell of pine from the tree now stings in your nose. Your heart might actually have fallen along with the ornament because it too is shattered in pieces.

The shards tremble in your palm and you stare at them along with the rest still lying helplessly on the ground, as if there is actually something you can do right now to go back in time and not pick it up ever again, just to make sure.

But there is nothing you can do.

Your heart breaks even further at the thought that Bucky might have put it here deliberately. Maybe it was an attempt to move forward, to share the memory of his sister. Maybe he thought the ornament didn’t belong in some dusty package hidden away, but out in the open, a part of the holiday warmth he’s been so hesitant to feel. Maybe it was his thought of remembering her with someone else this time, instead of alone.

This would be such a huge step for him. And you would feel so proud if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack.

Because it’s broken, divided into so many pieces. You just dropped something so carelessly that probably meant the world to Bucky. And, god, did he deserve the world. But you took it. You contorted the precious memories of his little sister. Unwillingly, of course. But that doesn’t make you feel any better right now.

You have known Bucky for a few years now. Though knowing him feels like a word too shallow for what you share. You never labeled it, both of you walking the fine line, and never crossing it.

But you see that Bucky trusts you - the kind of trust he doesn’t hand out freely. And for good reason, after all. In fact, you’re not even sure he’s ever given it to anyone else in quite the same way, not even Steve. And that’s saying something.

You see it in the small things, in the way his guarded demeanor softens when it’s just the two of you, the soft smiles that seem to be reserved for you. It’s the kind of friendship where silence doesn’t have to be filled, and words don’t have to be spoken to be understood.

He lets you sit with him on the couch in the living room on nights when his past pulls him under and doesn’t allow for him to get some shut-eye. You are usually awake yourself, sometimes just running on adrenaline after coming home from a mission and accompanying him silently. He always seems to linger out here when you are away on a mission anyway, so you usually meet him here after getting home, watching his shoulders slowly droop and his back rest more comfortably against the back of the couch.

You are the first at his bedside when his nightmares claw at his mind. You’ve seen him at his most vulnerable - shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked chest, hair plastered to his face, his breaths coming in uneven gasps as you help him fight to pull himself out of his memories.

Those nights, you never push him to talk. You don’t ask him to explain or tell you what he saw. Without a word, you would hand him a glass of water and wait while he drinks, his hands trembling so slightly it makes your stomach feel heavy every time. Sometimes you tell him to breathe with you, in and out, until the panic subsided and his shoulders stopped shaking.

You were never sure how much touch he needs in those moments so you usually stay at a small distance from him, but it seems your presence alone does wonders.

When he would be ready, he always searched your face so long and intensely, before croaking out a heavy but meaningful “Thank you.”

And his small acts of kindness always fill you with a jittery feeling that makes your knees weak and unfortunately doesn’t help at all when fighting against Natasha in the ring.

Just a few weeks ago, Bucky spent an entire Saturday afternoon fixing the squeaky hinge on your bedroom door because he heard you muttering to Wanda about how annoying it was.

He never even told you he was going to do it. You just came back to your room later that evening to find the door silent as a ghost. It took a whole week for you to find out how this happened. And it wasn’t him, who told you. It was Clint, who saw him walk around with a toolbox and a satisfied smile on his face that Clint, as he told you found a little terrifying.

Additionally, he always seems to know when you need a break during training sessions, tossing you a water bottle before you even realize how tired you are. Or he would plant himself wordlessly between you and your opponent for the day, with his arms crossed and a chastising glance at you when you’ve been fighting for hours without acknowledging the way your movements already grew sluggish and wobbly.

You are always aware when his hands linger on your shoulder a second longer after a sparring match, his metal fingers cold but careful, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you there. Or the way your stomach twists when he catches your eye across the room, and for just a moment, it’s like the rest of the world falls away. And the way he talks to you, even when people are around, his voice lower, softer, words chosen with an almost uncharacteristic care, makes you feel like you’re the only person he truly is interested in talking to. You also love the nights he shows up at your door with takeout, wordlessly handing you your favorite meal, and striding into your room to settle at the foot of your bed with a contented sigh.

Through it all, however, was always this persistent question you had. The one that molded into an ache inside your chest. Because what if? What if you took one step closer and stopped holding back? What if you risk everything you have with him now for something more?

But right now you feel like those questions don’t hold the same energy anymore. The same weight. No, they just got weightless. Pointless. Because you just ruined everything without even risking it.

You just destroyed something that can’t be fixed with glue and an apology. It can’t be fixed with you sitting with him and comforting him in the dark while his mind goes to the same cruel place like many times before.

This feels like you’ve crossed a line you can’t uncross.

The wrong line.

Shaking hands pick up the largest fragment, the soft loops of her name still visible through the fractures. The sharp ends bite into your palm like the memory of something sacred that’s been lost. You don’t feel the sting. You don’t feel the sensation of the few droplets of blood sliding over your palm where the ends nicked your skin.

The only thing you register is that this foolish mistake might actually unravel everything you’ve built with him.

He let you in, further than anyone, but that doesn’t mean he won’t push you back out if you give him a reason. And this definitely feels like a reason.

Your mind presents you with his reaction when he comes walking in here and sees what happened.

At first, there’d be nothing - just the stoic silence he uses to sink into, the kind that makes it impossible to tell what he’s thinking. But you’d see it in the smallest of things - the way his jaw tightens just enough to be noticeable, the flicker in his eyes that he’ll try to hide but won’t be able to, the stiffening of his shoulders. And then the desolation, like a tide pulling back just before it crashes. You wonder if he would say anything at all, or if the silence would hang heavy.

You swallow hard, begin to feel the sting behind your eyes, and try to force the lump in your throat down.

You’ve worked so hard to be someone he could rely on, someone he could trust in ways he hasn’t trusted anyone else in decades. You’ve sat with him, listened to him, stayed silent with him. Learned to know him so well, you even memorized the subtle shifts in his expressions, the things he won’t say but still lets you feel.

And now, here you are with broken glass in your hands and a painful feeling in your chest, terrified that this could be the moment that shatters the thing between you.

He might pull away, retreat behind those walls he’s spent years building. What if he doesn’t let you sit with him anymore. Or what if he does, but his shoulder would only grow more tense. What if he starts holding back, measuring his words, locking the parts of himself away that he once entrusted to you?

The idea of losing him - not just losing him, but losing this connection, this unspoken, almost-more-than-friendship thing that you’ve both been too afraid to name - makes your breath catch and something rise in your chest that might be bile.

A sob comes out instead.

It comes out like a wound ripped open before it could begin to heal. You press a quivering hand to your mouth, in hopes of muffling the sound, but it’s no use. More broken sobs come anyway.

You try to pull yourself together, to force the tears back, but your body feels so weak under the guilt and shame.

More parts of the broken ornament bite into your skin, red droplets welling up and sliding down your skin, pooling at the curve of your wrist, before falling soundlessly to the floor.

Pain should ground you. It should pull you out of this spiral, force you to snap back to some semblance of control. But it doesn’t. It doesn’t do anything at all.

Instinctively, your hand gives way, the pieces tumbling from your fingers and scattering across the hardwood once more.

You only sit there, frozen, your breath hitching and catching in your throat as tears streak down your face, warm and unwelcome. You can’t stop them.

You’re not supposed to be this weak. You’re not supposed to break down like this, over something so small. And yet that makes the sobs only harder to contain. Because this isn’t small - not to Bucky. And that’s the part that leaves you as shattered as the crimson glass. Perhaps as shattered as your relationship with the person you fell for as hard as the ornament fell to the ground.

It’s Rebecca. His sister. His past. His grief. It’s a tiny piece of his life that he trusted enough to bring out of hiding, to put here with the rest of the world, in the open where it could be seen. Where it could be touched. And you touched it, only to let it fall. Only to ruin it.

Shame knocks down on you so hard, you draw your knees up to your chest, curling into yourself as though you could make yourself smaller, invisible, anything but this.

You don’t even know what to do with your blood-streaked palm, only letting it hover in the air, the shallow cuts glistening under the still-glowing lights of the tree. It’s a mess. You are a mess. Curling your fingers into a fist, you wince in pain at the stinging of the cuts but you leave it like that.

Perhaps you are overreacting, sitting here on the floor in the common area of the compound with a bleeding hand and the shattered remains of Rebecca Barnes's memory, but you feel so helpless and remorseful, you can’t really think straight at the moment.

The sound of the elevator is faint, but it’s enough to reach your ears. You freeze. You just sit there, knees drawn to your chest, blood smeared across your palm, the shattered glass of the ornament glittering like broken stars on the floor.

You are tear-streaked, trembling, your chest still hitching with uneven breaths and Bucky just got home.

Those approaching footsteps are so familiar to you, you would always recognize his gate. Usually, it’s comforting, grounding to know he got home and would leave you with relief in your chest.

But there is no place for relief in your chest right now.

His footsteps sound normal, steady, perhaps a little hurried but he hasn’t reached this room yet.

You don’t look up. Instead, you bite your lip to stop the sob that threatens to escape. The shame is too sharp, cutting deeper than any piece of the ornament and making your heart bleed as well.

Maybe if you stay still, if you stay quiet, he’ll miss you somehow.

But then his steps come to an abrupt halt and you know you are screwed.

Burning tears spike once more and the sob breaks free.

“Woah, hey-” he calls out, so urgent, so worried.

Bucky is across the room in a heartbeat, dropping to his knees in front of you with a speed that catches you off guard.

“Sweetheart, hey.” It falls from his lips so softly, so worried, it nearly breaks you all over again.

Tears fall more freely at the kind of tenderness in his tone and suddenly his hand is cupping your face, thumb, and knuckles brushing the streaks of wetness from your cheeks.

But they keep coming.

“Look at me, please! Doll, look at me,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly gentle, but dripping with so much concern. His metal hand is on your face as well and he tilts it upward, guiding your gaze toward his.

His brows are drawn so deeply, lips parting slightly as he studies your face - the tear tracks, the desolation in your eyes, the shame and guilt, the trembling of your shoulders.

You can’t look at him. Can’t bear to see it. So you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’ll ever be able to forget that look on his face. Not when you know what’s coming. Not when you know what you have caused.

Just wait until he sees it, you think. That look will change.

“No,” he whispers, his voice so soft again, but there is a firmness in it. The pad of his flesh thumb smooths gently across your cheek again, while his metal fingers move to your hair. “Hey, no, don’t do that. It’s okay. Y/n, it’s okay!”

You shake your head quickly and try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a choked sound, half-sob, half-breath. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He doesn’t know what this is about.

You want to stay hidden behind the veil of your closed eyes, safe from not seeing what you know will be there in perhaps seconds when he figures it out - disappointment, maybe anger, the grief of what you’ve broken.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, please.”

There is something in his voice you can’t ignore. It sounds unshakable and steady, yet fragile and thick.

Slowly, reluctantly, your eyes flutter open to meet his, but when you do, you freeze.

Because he already knows.

He looks at you. Just looks, but you see he already put the pieces together. He saw the shards scattering around your knees. His expression is softer than you’ve ever seen it but he looks at you with an intensity that is new to you. There is that understanding in his eyes. But it’s so soft. So gentle.

There is no anger, no frustration, no disappointment.

There is nothing of the reaction you had feared for.

Yes, there is pain in his eyes as well. It’s unmistakable, flickering in the soft blue of his irises. But it’s not the pain you expected.

It’s not for the ornament. It’s not for what it meant.

It’s for you.

You can see it in the way his brows crease, the frown that tugs at his mouth. And the way he never once lets his gaze stray to the shards on the floor. All he looks at is you.

Bucky keeps his hands on your face, continuing to swipe over your cheeks like he’s afraid you’ll crumble if he lets go. Then, his thumbs still, resting against your cheekbones, his touch so achingly gentle that it only makes more tears fall.

“Sweetheart,” he says again, and the word cracks, quiet and uneven. He still doesn’t look angry. He still doesn’t look disappointed. He looks devastated - not for what you’ve done, but for what it’s done to you.

Your lips tremble, barely able to form words.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Come here.”

Baby definitely is a new one. It’s something he’s never called you before. But there is no time to linger on it, no chance to unpack the flutter it sparks in your stomach because he’s already pulling you toward him.

His flesh arm wraps around your body, tugging you against his chest, while his metal hand finds its place at the back of your head, cold but reassuring fingers threading through your hair.

He lets you cry against his chest. Cradles you so tightly to him, you might actually get worried about your ribs, but it feels so good. His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek, his heart is pounding. The fabric of his tactical suit presses against your skin, rough and worn from the mission he just came back from, but it grounds you to some extent.

“It’s okay. Just breathe, alright? Breathe,” he keeps whispering, exaggerating his breaths against your body to invite you to follow his lead. You try.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob, the words spilling out in a choked, broken rush as you bury your face in his chest. The tears won’t stop, soaking into the dark fabric of his suit.

“Shh,” he keeps on with his soft voice. His arm around you tightens, holding you closer, while his metal hand stays solidly at the back of your head. His fingers brush through your hair in slow, soothing motions. “Don’t be. Don’t you dare be.”

He continues murmuring to you when you try to apologize again, his voice low and warm. He talks so calmly and sure, you feel something inside of you churn.

Bucky tilts his head slightly, resting his cheek against your hair, and you feel the warmth of his breath as he talks to you.

And yet, biting guilt gnaws its way through your ribs. You feel terrible - worse than terrible - because it should be you comforting him, not the other way around.

It’s him who lost something precious, something you had broken. And here he is, holding you, brushing tears from your face, whispering words meant to stitch you back together.

But somehow, he doesn’t even seem to care. He holds you like you are the only thing that matters right now.

Remorse burrows deep, heavy, and shaming, until it pulls you back to yourself - slowly, shakily, but enough to loosen the sobs caught in your throat.

You sniff and take a breath, a real one this time, ragged but yours.

Then, you shift in his arms, gently pressing against his chest to put space between you. His hold loosens, slowly, with a hesitation that tugs at something in you. As if he is reluctant to let you go. Still, he relents.

His flesh hand slides away first, but his metal one lingers, brushing through your hair one last time before settling on your shoulder. He keeps you close, his thumb brushing absentminded sweeps across your sweater.

His gaze never strays and it’s heavy. You can’t meet his eyes for long. They’re too full of that care you don’t deserve, the care he shows you in so many small gestures all the time.

So your gaze falls to the floor, but then you freeze again.

The broken shards that had glinted so mockingly against the floor just moments ago are gone. Instead, settled carefully on the coffee table as though it had never fallen at all, is the ornament.

Whole.

It takes you a moment to process it, to trust what you’re seeing. The cracks are gone, smoothed over seamlessly. The gleaming red glass catches the light of the Christmas tree, its golden little details shining like something out of a memory, timeless and unbroken. As beautiful and aesthetic as before.

For a moment, you even wonder if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but then you notice Wanda standing at the far side of the room. Her hands lower slowly, the telltale red glow of her magic fading from her fingertips.

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t step closer - just tilts her head slightly, offering you the faintest, knowing smile. Her eyes are warm.

God, of course. You should have thought of that. It even makes you feel a little ridiculous. You live together with people who possess supernatural abilities, powers beyond comprehension. You should have thought of Wanda. How her hands could have mended it back together in seconds.

A choked breath stumbles out of you, somewhere between relief and disbelief. Bucky follows your gaze, his brows furrowing, only to soften when he sees the ornament resting perfectly intact on the table. He stares at it for a moment.

But then he looks back at you and his sweet smile could melt any ice this winter has to offer.

His flesh hand moves a few strands of hair out of your face and tugs them tenderly behind your ear. His hand stays on your cheek. “Told you it’s okay.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I still broke it,” you say, words slipping out quietly, somberly. Your gaze remains fixed on it. Wanda seems to have slipped out again.

“Stop,” Bucky cuts in, his voice more firm than before but still gentle as always. He shakes his head, moving closer to you again, gaze fixed on you.

You feel his hand brush against yours, but then his shoulders stiffen up. He stops. His eyes catch on something and his expression shifts in an instant.

“Jesus-” His frown deepens, something like a shadow crosses his eyes. Sharp eyes lock onto the red streaks lining your palm, the cuts where the shattered glass had broken your skin.

You hadn’t even realized you were still holding onto the pain - too caught up in everything else to notice the dull throb of your hand or the sting of the scratches.

“You’re bleeding. Why didn’t you say anything?” The words are a quiet exhale, soft but weighted. There is no reprimand in his voice, no anger - only concern coloring every syllable.

His thumb ghosts over your wrist, careful not to brush against the cuts. His intense gaze flickers from your injured hand to your face, searching your expression.

“It’s not a big deal-”

“Don’t.”

Bucky shakes his head. His jaw tightens and he exhales sharply through his nose. It’s not frustration - not with you, anyway. It’s something deeper, something that seems to pain him in his chest as he studies the scratches like they’re a personal failing.

“Bucky,” you say while trying to pull your hand back from his grasp when he tilts it more toward the light to get a better look. As if he hasn’t the eyesight of a super soldier.

“Doll. Let me see.” His lips press into a thin line, the faintest hint of exasperation ghosting across his face.

The sigh you let out drags down your chest and you don’t resist when Bucky keeps cradling your bleeding hand and studies the scratches. His brow is furrowed in concentration that feels too much for something so small.

You want to tell him it’s fine, that this is nothing, but the words die before they reach your tongue.

“Let’s get you fixed up,” he says tightly, the tone of his voice all business and leaving no room for argument.

But you shake your head. It’s your fault the ornament broke in the first place. You’re aware it’s whole again, but it was in shambles just moments earlier and you cut yourself thanks to your own stupidity.

“Bucky, you just got back from a mission-” you protest, your voice quieter than you’d like.

“Not too worried about myself right now, doll,” he interrupts, his voice insistent but warm. The hint of steel beneath his words not directed at you but at the way your guilt is still in control, trying to downplay yourself.

“Come on.” He says it softer now, but before you can argue any further, he’s already moving.

Without so much as a pause, Bucky stands and scoops you up into his arms as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You barely have a second to process the shift, before you’re pressed securely against his chest.

“Bucky!” you exclaim, startled, your uninjured hand reaching for his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Relax, doll. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost amused, though his expression remains calm, focused.

You sigh again, but there is a laugh on your breath. “Buck, I can walk. You don’t have to-”

“Not hearing it,” he says simply, almost flatly. He just continues striding along the halls with you in his arms. His steps are heavier, but you know it’s not because of your weight. He holds you like you weigh nothing at all. “You’re hurt.”

That doesn’t sound like a plausible explanation to you, since you’ve come home with way worse injuries from missions over the last months alone. But the gruffness of his voice, the one that always accompanies him when you’re injured, no matter how small - the seriousness, the concern - it shuts you up for the time being.

You let your head rest against his shoulder. He smells a little like gunpowder and dust, but you only latch onto the parts that are him and breathe them in.

“I didn’t mean to break it, Bucky,” to whisper, gaze dropping to the tightly pressed ball that is your bloody fist. “I’m so sorry.”

You feel the intake of Bucky’s breath against your body and his eyes warmly falling down on you. You don’t meet his gaze.

“You didn’t break anything, sweetheart.” His voice is like velvet, brushing so softly against your skin. So reassuringly. So profoundly gentle. “You’re okay, doll. We’re okay. I promise.” His hands curl tighter around you.

You blink, your head tilting to glance up at him, and your breath catches when you meet his gaze.

It is intense. His brows are pulled together - not with anger, but with concern. Like the only things he cares about right now are the tears that linger in your eyes and the way you’re still trying to curl in on yourself, still letting your body slightly shake with the guilt that he refuses to let you carry.

Something stirs in your belly. Something flutters, as if thousands of tiny wings brush against the walls of you, demanding to be seen. To be felt.

Because you let your mind spiral so much earlier, bracing yourself for a reaction of disappointment, frustration - that flicker of something unnameable that might pull the two of you apart.

But it still isn’t there.

Not even close.

It’s the opposite, really.