#what is the most important step a man can take?

[reignpage]

Thinking about the quiet, domestic ways the size difference between you and Toji shows itself

We know you’ll have to ask him for help reaching things on the tallest shelf and it’ll take hours of foreplay to get ready for his gigantic girth, but what about the times that you can easily take for granted, the moments that are brought up to you by blushing, envious friends which make you blink in realisation, the moments that make you fall in love with him all over again?

When showering with him is impossible because he gets all the hot water and you’re left shivering under the lukewarm dribbles from his body. Despite the complications from the tight space, the awkward angles one has to bend their limbs to get their shampoo, and how hard it is to hear each other with the thunder of the water and the height difference, you would never hate showering with Toji. Who else would wash your hair for you because they don’t get aches in their arms from reaching up? Who else would be able to clearly see the spots you’ve missed and would take their time, using their muscles, to work the lather in? And who the hell else would dry you first with the only towel and use the cold, damp one for himself?

When it’s windy out and the chill of the night rattles your bones, he stands in the direction of the wind, eyes bothered and scarred lips pulled down in a frown; you’re shivering like hell. Should’ve brought your jacket like he told you. Dumbass. Large and foreboding, his frame blocks the wind, shoving it away from your body. All his clothes hang heavy on you, and in this moment, when you’re practically being attacked all around, all he has to do is unzip his own jacket and welcome you in. A big man like him always has room in their clothes for another person. And the almost scalding heat of his hardened body stands like a furnace. Who needs a jacket when they have a Toji Fushiguro? 

Bonus point for him not giving a fuck that people are staring at you two – waddling together like the very paragon of PDA and counting the steps in mumbles, cursing here and there when you trip over a pebble.

Of course, this also extends to all the times he wordlessly stands over you so the sun doesn’t blind your poor eyes or so you can pick a wedgie out without people seeing. 

When mornings are easy with him. He’s the one who turns off your alarm at fuckass hours in the morning. His long arm can reach beyond your body and kill that startling sound that haunts your sweet dreams. Washing up in the bathroom doesn’t have to be taken in turns; you two can brush your teeth at the same time because his reflection shows behind you. Most times, breakfast is a struggle for you because it’s often too early to have an appetite. Still, he’ll always make you a perfectly portioned meal, you’ll eat as much as you can and never have to worry about throwing food out because he eats your leftovers on top of his own breakfast. 

When you have to stand on a platform to kiss him – whether it's the taller step on the staircase or a stool – and he still has to bend down. No matter how far down you are, he will bend. He will risk cricks in his necks and aches in his backs because what the fuck could get in the way between him and a kiss from you?

When there are hardly any good pictures of the both of you because it's a tug of war between the top of your head and his chest.

When he spots a puddle and grabs you by the waist so you can dangle in the air for a little while as he steps over it.

When you realised that you've never once had to push your shorter legs to their max to keep up with him. Without needing you to tell him, without announcing it to you, Toji, all those years ago, has learned the perfect pace to always be within arm's reach of you in case you need help and so he never misses a single word of the story you're telling.

You could go and on about him, but the most important thing will forever be that, no matter how big Toji is, no matter how much he towers over you and scares the shit out of everyone, his heart will always be bigger.

I love this man ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[verityasian]

hiii dad jj with this TikTok 🥺 thanks! https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8kUvbAN/

I looove this ask so much! The son is from my Legacy Series that I haven’t posted anywhere else yet 🤫

“That’s my dude.”

>>>Legacy Series™️

>>>pairing: dad!jj x son!hurley (feat. amused mommy!reader)

>>>warning: pure fluff

>>>summary: two-year-old Hurley wants to go surfing with JJ but he can’t swim

A/N: I really need to post more from my Legacy Series! Ugh. I love dad!jj and uncle!jj so much!!

The sun’s barely up when you hear the backdoor creak open.

You peek out the window and there he is; JJ, board under one arm, wax in his teeth, hair still messy from sleep. Morning light hitting the ocean just right. He’s always said he feels most like himself when the tide’s low and the world’s quiet.

But this morning?

“Papaaa!”

Tiny feet slap the deck.

Two-year-old Hurley barrels after him, wearing nothing but shark-patterned swim trunks, one Croc, and his determined little frown.

“No no no, buddy,” JJ calls over his shoulder, already dropping his board in the sand. “Not today, okay? You can watch from the beach with Mama—”

“I go, too!” Hurley yells, proudly dragging his “surfboard” behind him — a foam kitchen cutting board with stickers all over it.

JJ freezes mid-step. Turns.

“Hurley…”

“My board!” he insists, chin wobbling. “I paddle wif you. I go, Papa.”

JJ walks back up, kneels low, hands on Hurley’s bare shoulders. He’s trying so hard to be gentle. “You can’t swim yet, little man. It’s too deep out there.”

“But I got my cutting bowd!” Hurley cries. His eyes glass over. The lip starts to tremble.

JJ immediately breaks.

“Oh, don’t— buddy, don’t do the lip—”

Hurley sniffles. Wipes his nose on JJ’s bandana. ��I go in da watah, papa…”

JJ pulls him into his lap, burying his face in Hurley’s wet curls. “One day, yeah? I promise. One day, you and me; riding waves like pros. But today? Today you gotta be my little beach captain. You’re on mommy protection. Super important job.” JJ pats Hurley’s back. “Can you take care of mommy for me?”

Hurley mumbles into JJ’s chest. “O’tay…”

“That’s my dude.”

JJ kisses the top of his head, then stands up and sets Hurley on a beach towel beside you. “He’s literally me,” he whispers, raking a hand through his hair. “But smaller. And louder.”

You kiss JJ’s cheek. “And cuter.”

“Okay, rude.”

Hurley sits on the sand, clutching his cutting board, sniffling but still watching JJ paddle out like it’s the most magical thing in the world.

And of course JJ keeps glancing back at the shore, just to see his boy watching.

⸻

BONUS

“Alright, lil’ dude,” JJ calls from the kitchen, grabbing his board and slipping his arms through a faded tank. “Tide’s good, wind’s soft. Perfect waves today. You comin’ with me?”

Silence.

He peeks into the living room.

Hurley, now five, is lying belly-down on the floor, surrounded by crayons and a sketchpad the size of his head. His tongue’s sticking out in concentration as he colors something in with short, furious strokes of green.

JJ steps closer.

“Buddy?”

“Can’t. I’m making grass.”

JJ blinks. “What?”

“For the hill. In the back.” Hurley doesn’t even look up.

JJ lowers his board. “You don’t wanna come surfing?”

“Not today.”

“But you used to wanna come.”

Hurley shrugs, still drawing. “That was when I was two.”

JJ pauses in the doorway, staring at the back of his son’s shaggy blond head. “Damn,” he mutters to himself. “Why didn’t I just say yes when you were two?”

You laugh softly from the couch. “Because he couldn’t swim, and he was using a cutting board as a surfboard.”

“Still.”

He lets out a dramatic sigh and turns to head out, only to stop when Hurley calls, “Wait!”

JJ turns, hopeful. “Changed your mind?”

Hurley tears a page out of his sketchbook and pads over barefoot. “No. But I made this for you.”

He hands JJ a crayon drawing.

It’s messy, bright, and perfect.

A wobbly stick-figure JJ stands on a surfboard, arms out wide, hair sticking up. Next to him, in huge purple letters:

“Dada surfing da BIGGEST WAVE!”

JJ stares at it, heart tightening in his chest.

“Dude… I love it.”

“I know,” Hurley says, already back to coloring. “I draw better than surfing the ocean anyway.”

JJ tucks the drawing gently into his bag like it’s sacred.

“Best surf sesh ever,”

I named the son Hurley since JJ is definitely the type to name his son from a surfboard brand. In my head Hurley is more artistic and quiet —opposite of JJ but they have a lot of cute moments that I can’t wait to post!

[mabaris]

alright so now that we’ve gotten some actual crumbs, it feels like it’s a good time to lay out my prediction for what da4 is going to look like. writing this in a letter and mailing it to myself

we are part of an underground organization formed from the ruins of the inquisition to stop solas from ending the world

meanwhile the wardens have been researching the blight/the location of the archdemons and discover some secret about the location of the black city/what is actually contained in it

we’re supposed to be shocked at the reveal that the evanuris are trapped in the black city and the maker doesn’t exist

the ancient elves were in control of some crazy mutating technology (like in hormak) and that was the original source of the darkspawn. the whole thing about them being from the deep roads and a dwarf concern was actually just a red herring, they’re just underground because they’re powered by lyrium and this has ALSO been an elf thing the whole time :)

anyway, now we need to Double Make Sure the veil stays up because the evanuris have something even worse cooking up in the black city and we need to prevent them from unleashing a super blight and destroying all life, and our job is to convince solas to give up, not because we disagree with his plan but because his actions will have unintended consequences. even if he doesn’t care about everyone else and wants to rebuild the world, he won’t even be able to do THAT because the super blight will kill elves too. so although we WERE enemies we will have to band together to defeat the greater threat etc. it will be optional to recruit him as an ally/advisor, or you can just fight him directly and take control of his forces

we will have to cross into the fade AGAIN and storm the black city directly to put a stop to whatever’s going on in there

[amelikos]

Gibeon, huh.

[navybrat817]

Sharp Dressed Man

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky looks good in a suit, and it isn't fair how easily he turns you on.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), referenced oral sex (f. receiving), feels, sweet and spicy fic, established relationship, vulnerability, being in love, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Tower Shenanigans based on an anon ask. ❤️ Thank you to the lovely @buckybarnesfic, @soelstress, @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for looking it over and assuring me it wasn't garbage. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was still getting ready for the day while you made him breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day, and neither of you would let the other skip it. Thankfully the rest of the team had already eaten and were elsewhere, otherwise everyone would try to steal something; except for Bob because he wouldn't take food without asking. Not to mention the last time John tried to steal one of Yelena’s meals he almost lost a finger. 

The scent of freshly brewed coffee cut through the last traces of sleep, warming you up as you loaded the plates with various foods and set them on the island. You rinsed the dishes and cleaned the counters while you waited for Bucky, doing a silly little dance in-between tasks. It wasn't your day to tidy up the kitchen, but you weren't going to be a jerk and leave it a mess. 

“Someone’s happy this morning,” Ava said from behind you, and you somehow didn't jump at the sound. You were all getting used to her phasing in and out of the rooms. “Let me guess. Morning sex?”

Was it obvious since you were only in your robe and underwear? “Maybe,” you teased. 

The wonderful ache between your legs was a nice reminder of how Bucky woke you earlier, making you shiver. You felt his fingers and tongue working you over before you opened your eyes, and you barely recovered from your first orgasm before he had his cock in you. It wasn't rushed either. He took his time, making you feel every delicious inch as he thrust slow and deep. Even when you came again he didn't stop. 

“‘Attagirl,” he smiled against your lips while you trembled beneath him, his body effectively caging you in. “But you can give me one more. I know you can.”

“Bucky,” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to fill you to the brim. 

“Just one more, sweetheart.” A hand moved between your bodies so he could play you like a well tuned instrument. “One more and I’ll give it to you.”

You did, and so did he, your name tumbling from his lips as he spilled into you. Who wouldn't give Bucky another orgasm if he gently demanded it? Three orgasms wasn't a bad way to start the day. A girl could do much worse. 

“Lucky,” she smirked, snapping you out of your thoughts when she snatched a bite of food from Bucky’s plate. “Mmm. Remind me to have you make me breakfast the next time you have morning sex.”

“Hey!” you yelled, but there was laughter in your eyes when she took another bite and phased away. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Who will pay for what?” Bucky asked when he walked into the room, making your breath catch in your throat. 

Bucky's hair was tucked behind his ears today, bringing your attention to his steel eyes before you took in the rest of him. His suit was tailored impeccably to his large frame, and he wore it well. He carried himself with composed ease, his steps deliberate and head held high. His presence demanded attention without appearing arrogant, which was tough to balance. He was all man. 

He was your man. 

“Fuck me,” you breathed. 

Bucky may not be a Congressman anymore, but he would have had your vote for anything and everything he ever wanted. 

His eyes flashed with unmistakable lust and pride as he walked toward you, making your stomach flip. “Already did.”

“You did, and you can do that again later,” you said, reaching up to trace his mouth. 

You smiled when he kissed your fingers. It was an honor to touch him and that wasn't at all an exaggeration. You noticed how tense he got when some got too close to him, but not you. Never you. 

“So, I look handsome?” he asked casually, adjusting his tie. “Not that I’m trying to look handsome. I’m only wearing this since I have a meeting, and I might get a few dirty looks if I show up in tactical gear.”

You almost teased that he was fishing for a compliment, but you saw just a flicker of his confidence waver as he waited for your answer. “Suit or tactical gear, you’re the most handsome man I've ever seen.”

He breathed out, his confidence back in full force. “I’m glad to hear that.” Sliding a hand over the curve of your hip, his fingers dug in, a protective and possessive touch, when he brought his mouth to your ear. “And I may have to wear suits around you more often since it turns you on so much.”

You tried to play coy, as if your nipples hadn’t peaked and your clit didn't throb. “Who said I'm turned on?” 

Bucky chuckled and lowered his head, his teeth nipping your neck and drawing a whimper from you. His lips moved up to find your ear again while you tried to keep your breathing steady. “Don't have to say it, sweetheart. I can smell you,” he whispered. You couldn't hide anything with those heightened senses of his, a blessing or a curse depending on how you looked at it. “Ruined your panties the second I walked in here.”

Your eyes closed. He was right, the smug bastard. Damn him. Damn him to Hell. No, not there. That was too cruel. Your bed would do nicely. 

It was insane the more you thought about it. The man could breathe and it would send your libido into overdrive. Feminism? Where did it go? One murder strut or grumpy stare and it went out the window along with your panties. One smile and it melted your insides. 

What had he done to you?

“You're unbelievable,” you sighed. 

He pulled back, searching your face. “What do you mean?” 

“I was a strong and capable woman before I came here,” you said, the words sounding ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth. 

“And you still are,” he assured you. Bucky was one of your biggest supporters, always. 

“It’s just… Do you have any idea what that’s like? To just look at someone and get turned on?” You stepped out of reach and gestured to him. You asked yourself some days how Bucky Barnes could possibly be real. How did someone like him exist? “You breathe and I get aroused. That isn't normal.”

No other man had that kind of power over you, body or heart, until him. 

The warm chuckle from your boyfriend had you fighting not to smile. “One, we’re not normal. Two, your breathing turns me on, too. And three, I do know it’s like to just look at someone and get aroused because that happens when I look at you,” he said, taking your hand to bring you back to him. He placed it against his crotch and grew harder under your touch. “We’re a match made in heaven, Hell, whatever you want to call it.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. You two were a good match. “It isn't just arousal when I look at you. It’s…” You took a breath and gripped his jacket with your other hand, trying to be careful not to wrinkle it. “You smile at me and…” 

“And what?” he asked, catching your eye and softly smiling. 

You swallowed, your eyes suddenly misting over before you dropped your hands. It was alarming how quickly your emotions took over in regard to Bucky. “I see a future with you there.”

Bucky cupped your cheeks when you tried to duck your head. He had stripped you bare more than once, but saying something like that made you feel more vulnerable than when you were naked. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“You have the power to break me,” you whispered, your eyes shutting. Not to hide, but to keep the tears at bay. “Which should be terrifying, but it’s very exhilarating.”

To give that much of yourself to another, to trust them to that extent, wasn't easy. But if life taught you anything, it was that it was too short and you had to seize every opportunity to live it to the fullest. Who better to do that with than Bucky Barnes?

You cleared your throat when he didn't say anything, his eyes a storm of emotions when you opened yours. “Your breakfast is getting cold. You should-”

He surged forward, his lips covering yours. The pad of his thumbs brushed your cheeks when he deepened the kiss, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. Emotions surged through you, your heart nearly overflowing as you held onto each other. You felt everything all at once and let yourself be swept away. 

He slowly broke the kiss allowing you both to savor the lingering touch of each other's lips and take a much needed breath. “You could break me, too, but you won't,” he said, his forehead resting against yours as you attempted to calm your racing heart. “Just like I'd never break you.”

It was a vow that resonated in your core, a declaration of love, one that had you kissing him again and silently promising the same. “Match made in heaven or Hell, huh?”

“And where you go, I’ll follow,” he smiled. 

You'd follow him, too. “Well, right now you need to eat breakfast and head out so you aren't late for your meeting.”

He groaned and refrained from rolling his eyes. “This suit is coming off as soon as I get back,” he said, much to your disappointment. Or maybe your delight. 

“Right when you get back?” You bit your lip. “Will you use the tie on me?” 

“I can,” he smirked, making your body heat up all over again. “Can have a little fun in the office, too. Pretend I’m your boss and-”

“Or I could be your boss since I'm strong and capable,” you teased. 

He moaned, seemingly into that idea as he backed you against the island. “Boss or not, I’ll still bend you over the desk or have you sit on it while I eat your pretty pussy.”

You whined. There was no stopping Bucky when he was hungry. He’d spread your legs and stay between them until you cried, lap up every drop and still want more. 

His hands roamed your body, forgetting all about breakfast. “Fuck you raw and fill you up just the way you-”

Bob cleared his throat, both of you turning toward the sound. How long had the poor guy been standing there? “Just getting a drink,” he said, quickly going to the fridge and avoiding looking at you. “I’m not even here.”

“Sorry, Bob,” you smiled sheepishly when he grabbed his drink and bolted. “We should probably rent a hotel room or something soon and give the team a break.”

You and Bucky could be extremely private some days and others there was no stopping you. How the team put up with it you had no idea. Maybe because you made each other happy. It still had to be slightly obnoxious for them. 

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his handsome face, too. “Or we could always do a campout on the roof so we aren't too far away,” he suggested. 

You smiled as you imagined it. Looking out over the city and watching the stars before cuddling up in a tent. A cabin getaway was also something to keep in mind for the future when you two could take a break together. Peaceful, quiet. Something just for the two of you. 

“A roof campout sounds nice,” you said. 

“Good,” Bucky smirked before he picked you up and set you on the island. “Campout later. Right now I want breakfast.”

“Bucky, your meeting.” 

“I won't be late.”

You didn't resist when he opened your legs. “Ava said no more fooling around in the kitchen since we eat here,” you reminded him. Alexei would probably encourage it. “And I just cleaned up, and you haven't eaten the food I made.”

“I’ll clean up the mess,” he winked as he crouched down. “And I’ll eat after I eat.”

And he did. 

We deserve this. Bucky deserves this. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[red-garden]

Liu Qingge is getting nowhere with his courting attempts. Shen Qingqiu just isn’t getting it. He does not have plany of rope.

He has one option: Shang Qinghua

He steals himself before nocking on his least favorite martial brother’s door.

“Oh! Liu-shidi! What uhhhh…. What’s up?”

“I want to court Shen Qingqiu.”

“Come inside.”

As the little peak lord makes tea, Liu Qingge notices a definite shift in demeanor. Sitting down, he spreads over his chair in a most undignified fashion. “So you want my blessing to court my best friend.”

“What? No.”

Shang Qinghua looks miffed. “So why are you here?”

Liu Qingge grits his teeth. “He has not responded to any of my courting gifts,” deep breath, “You are closest to him. How do I make him fall for me?”

Shang Qinghua has been nodding along, stroking his chin as if he had a beard. “I see. I’m obligated to tell you as an emotionally mature adult that you can’t make someone love you. However. As Cucumber’s best friend and your shixiong, I know exactly what you need to do.”

Liu Qingge leans forward. “Yes?”

The little lord shrugs, nonchalant smile on his face. “Act pathetic! Act like you need his help soooo much and you can’t live without him! Trust me, he loves to mommy people.”

Liu Qingge raises an incredulous eyebrow. “What.”

“The most important step is to cry in front of him. He’d fuck a snake if it cried.”

Liu Qingge bristles with the insult to his intended. He knows Shen Qingqiu has a rather crass bond with Shang Qinghua so he lets it side. For now.

“And you’re sure this will work?”

“100% satisfaction garunteed. He needs to stop moping over his disciple, and to do that, he needs a new pathetic little guy to fuss over. You have my blessing shidi.”

———

Shang Qinghua’s horrible advice was working.

On his most recent monster delivery, Liu Qingge purposely let the beast catch him on the back of his hand. Drawing attention to it, Shen Qingqiu immediately brought him into the bamboo house, dressed the wound, and cooed over him the entire time. It was heavenly.

Next time he came by to clear Shen Qingqiu’s meridians, he trips over a chair, falling flat on his face. Not only did Shen Qingqiu tell him he was being so brave, he also kissed his forehead. Shen Qingqiu kissed him!

The plan was progressing, but he still hadn’t employed the supposedly most important strategy: crying.

Liu Qingge was a stoic man by nature. He hadn’t cried in…. Wow, decades. Huh.

He prepared well. An armload of onions to chop. Pepper flakes if that wasn’t enough.

He shows up to Shen Qingqiu’s door, face ruddy, eyes wet. He answers on the second nock. “Liu- oh! Liu-shidi, come inside come inside!”

He takes Liu Qingge by the shoulders and leads him to the couch. Sitting down next to him, Liu Qingge sniffs.

“Shidi, what happened? Is everything alright? Did you run into a pollen? Allergies? What can I do to help?”

Thickening his face, Liu Qingge wordlessly leans over, planting his face in the crook of Shen Yuan’s shoulder and encircling him in a hug.

“Oh!” Gasps Shen Qingqiu. He quickly embraces Liu Qingge back, petting his hair and shifting him to be more on his lap.

“There there shidi, I’ve got you. Do you want to tell me about it?”

Liu Qingge shakes his head. Being cradled like this is shockingly nice. It feels safe. Shen Qingqiu is warm, he’s humming, he smells like his favorite jasmine tea and incense. Liu Qingge starts to feel true tears prickle at his eyes, throat going tight. Maybe this cry was long overdue.

Shen Qingqiu hold him through it, rocking him back and forth, occasionally pressing kisses to his hair. He reassures him the whole time: “It’s okay, let it out.” “I’m so proud of you for coming to me.” “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Shang Qinghua was right.

[lovegasmic]

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬▶ 𝗩𝗛𝗦

WORKING OVERTIME ⭑.ᐟ.ᐣ

‘ toji fushiguro, kento nanami, sukuna x fem!reader ’

⌞ PG-18 ⌝ mild dub con ( reader gets aroused and never says no ) you better judge yourself◞ gangbang taking turns◞ inappropriate touching◞ no curses au◞ office sex ◞ stuck in a wall◞ cunilingus◞ anal fingering ◞ spit as lube◞ oral male receiving◞ creampie◞ unprotected sex ◞ cum swallow◞ reader is called dummy, princess and slut.

“c’mon pretty, I know you can get it” ever since you arrived at the company, Toji hasn’t lost a single chance to tease you, making his approach seem friendly when in reality, he just wanted to fuck you raw.

“i’m trying!” you huff in return, embarrassed by the current position that you find yourself in, stretching your hands to reach for the documents folder that fell behind large rack, and you, being the only girl working after hours was the perfect fit to help the man retreat such important material, “i can’t reach it!”

Toji is so grateful that you’re not watching him, allowing his eyes to wander through the way your round ass is up in the air, standing on tip toes while letting out huffs of exertion, sounds Toji wished to hear while being balls deep in your tight pussy. a soft yet firm slap lands on your butt cheek, not painful but making you squeal, “Toji!” you yell, ignoring the way your face burns and core throbs, denying the attraction you had to the man wouldn’t take you anywhere.

he chuckles, “you’re almost there, just a bit more... although, i’m not complaining if you take your time, the view over here is wonderful”

“you’re the worst” you mutter, used to Toji’s behavior and way too over friendly touching, the tips of your fingers brush over the hard edge of the folder, skimming in a little further to grasp it with a triumphant sound, “i got it! Toji help me out”

“of course, princess” the man smirks, holding onto your hips but instead of pulling, you feel him pushing you down and deeper into the rack, your head almost hanging from the other side of it.

“Toji you idiot! now i’m stuck, you made it worse”

“nah” he tuts, “i think I made it perfect” there’s a deep laugh coming from his chest, clearly enjoying himself, rubbing his hands across your thighs.

“what’s going on?” another voice joins, steady steps approaching your squirming form, and you can tell who it is immediately, another one of your coworkers who adores teasing you nonstop.

“dummy got stuck while trying to pick up a folder that fell” Toji’s voice is filled with humor, a bit mockingly if you had to say.

Sukuna grins, allowing his hand to rest on the small of your back, “is that so?” you hear him laugh.

“i hate you both” you bite back, trying to ignore the growing wetness between your legs, most likely staining your panties and dripping down your thighs.

“oh, but it seems like you’re enjoying this” the pink haired man speaks again, letting a single finger trace the contour of your pussy through the pencil skirt you wore, pushing enough for your wetness to seep through and drench the other layer of fabric.

“i’m not!” you hiss, futilely trying to kick the men only for them to grab your legs, one each.

“this sweet cunt of yours says otherwise” Toji huffs, raising your skirt until it pools around your waist, taking a teasing lick across your covered slit to which you mewl, hips wiggling against your better judgement, “don’t fight, honey, we’ll make you feel so good” Sukuna’s hands then reach forward, spreading out your pussy lips after Toji tugged your underwear down, letting it stretch around your knees.

“what a pretty thing you are” Sukuna speaks, letting his fingers caress the skin of your folds, teasingly sliding them across your wet clit just for a brief second.

by this point all rational thoughts are pretty much gone from your head, focusing on Toji’s heavy breathing straight in your core, and Sukuna’s thumbs keeping your hole spread and leaking. a loud groan resonates in the small room, followed closely by the dark haired man’s tongue plunging into your sopping cunt, so deep and so good your hands desperately try to find purchase in the smooth wall right in front of your eyes.

“she’s gorgeous” Sukuna groans, palming his bulge, “isn’t that right, Kento?” and you yelp at his words, a sound that could get easily mistaken as a pleasurable one since Toji kept on slurping loudly against your clit, sucking on your folds and swirling your slick on the tip of his tongue.

Sukuna and Toji were something, but you actually held respect towards the blonde, worried about how his opinion on you would change by watching you moan over your coworker eating you out.

“what do you think you’re doing?” his voice is deep and calm, a bit tired if you had to admit.

“Kento!” you gasp and kick, earning a pinch in your ass and Toji’s muffled voice vibrating against your pussy, “if you’re going to moan someone’s name so prettily it better be mine”

“oh, c’mon, join the fun, she’s enjoying the attention, like a little greedy slut” this time is Sukuna’a turn to speak, returning to his place by hunching next to your hips, his face hovering over where Toji continues his assault and letting a glob of spit to fall in the crack of your ass, using the thick substance to rub on your puckered hole.

“n-not there! i can’t—” you whine, thighs shaking from the double stimulation.

“you say that but your pussy is fluttering like crazy” Toji chuckles, now using two of his fingers to penetrate your hole, going at such a fast pace that you’re unable to speak and just moan, “cum, I know you’re close” he rasps, his fingers not flattering until liquid gushes out of your cunt and soaks his fingers at the same time as Sukuna’s finger dips in your asshole.

“o-oh, my god—!”

“fuck yes, you’re so goddamn sexy” they half praise, half groan, both men digits still buried inside your holes and moving in sync, slowly driving you insane.

a second finger joins the one in your ass and the ones in your pussy disappear, replaced by a sticky trail that left on your thigh, up and across your asscheeks where Toji glides his cockhead against, tapping on your clit a couple of times for his own selfish enjoyment in hearing you beg.

“please...” you whine, not certain of what but the emptiness of your cunt brought tears to your eyes, twitching in aftershocks of your previous orgasm.

“you better be on birth control, baby, because i’m fuckin’ you raw”

“elders first” Sukuna chuckles, observing intensely how Toji’s cock slowly disappears into your wet hole, ripping whines out of your mouth and forcing your ass to squeeze Sukuna’s fingers, biting back a groan of satisfaction at the idea of how tight you might feel inside.

“fuck me! f-feels so good!” you scream, attempting to dig your nails in the wall as a shiver runs down your spine once Toji’s cock is deeply buried inside your pussy, drooling precum inside your slippery walls.

“so fuckin’ hot, i’m going to enjoy breeding this tiny pussy” you mewl while the man starts to pound into you, slapping Sukuna’s hand away and replacing it with his thumb, fingering your tight hole as his cock stretches your cunt, groaning deeply at the tight squeeze of your walls, sucking him deeper with each thrust.

“i’m cumming again” you cry out, embarrassingly sooner than expected, unable to stop the sudden wave of pleasure surging through your body and forcing your walls to clamp down on the cock ruining your insides. he continues to fuck you through your orgasm until his own high gets triggered, cumming hard with a deep growl, halfway pulling out to spray your folds and lower back with cum.

“prettiest pussy i’ve ever fucked” Toji says, stepping aside to allow Sukuna to pull your thighs back, forcing you to take his cock in one swift motion, filling every inch of your pussy.

“you love this, don’t you, a perfect fuckhole, letting us take turns in fucking this tight pussy” Sykuna growls, moving in slow but hard thrusts that knock the air out of your lungs, bringing tears to your eyes and you slick to drip down on the floor.

“y-yes, Kuna! my pussy feels so good” you babble delirious, thighs shaking under the intense and hard pounding into your hot cunt, overstimulated but feeling impossibly good.

“fuuck, you’ll make me cum soon, better stretch this pussy nicely for Kento, hm? he acts all serious but has been jerking off for the past hour” Sukuna’s last words come quietly, almost like a secret you pretty much enjoy considering the sudden tightness in your walls, squeezing tightly around his cock while his hands grip your hips tightly, keeping you still as his balls slap against your clit.

“f-fill me up, please” you beg, eyes crossing as your pussy cums around him, taking Sukuna with you as his hips speed up, groans turning into growls while he fills you with his hot cum, pumping into you with tiny thrusts, more like humping your ass.

you breathe heavily, trying to compose your erratic heartbeat as Sukuna pulls out, cum oozing out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.

an unconscious yelp gets ripped out of your throat at the sudden pull of your legs, unstuck and landing on the floor with a dull thud where your knees hit.

“open your mouth” Kento growls, tugging your head back slightly enough to guide the dripping tip of his cock into your mouth, a bit of consideration to your abused cunt.

“wettest cunt, wettest mouth” Sukuna whistles next to the blonde, watching how his length comes out of your mouth glistening and soaked with your saliva, “aren’t you perfect everywhere?”

ignoring the other men in the room, Kento starts to use your throat back and forth, careful but firm enough to bring tears to your eyes, adoring how there's drool slipping from the corners of your lips, eyes glossy and almost rolled to the back of your skull with how good you feel. it doesn’t take much time for the man to approach his orgasm, rubbing your tongue with his cock head and slapping your cheeks before plunging it inside once again, his groans only increasing with the subtle buck of his hips against your mouth.

“i’m cumming, you swallow it all” he huffs, pressing into your mouth as deep as possible, making your nose rub on the peach fuzz above his cock, choking and moaning as cum fills your warm mouth. “next time I’ll be cumming in your pussy, since you love slutting yourself out”

[angelhee]

──𝙃𝙐𝙎𝘽𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙐𝙉𝙂 ✶ written

彡 heeseung x female reader —wc: 1228

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SUGGESTIVE MDNI !!!! contains sexual themes, mentions of sex (p in v), oral sex (male receiving), ooo they make sextapes, Heeseung is downbad, needy and freaky for his wife let him be, fluff (oh they’re so cute), cussing, english is not my first language!!

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋’𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒: I basically just thought abt putting our whole marriage for ppl to read so enjoyyyy ↓ I love you all so dearly

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who absolutely loves it when you get all dolled up. It gets him going too because that’s his pretty girl getting all pretty for him and for herself! The way you are so focused and skilled with your makeup. The way your eyes light up when you see that he’s watching so you can explain to him what you're doing step by step.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who takes you on dates weekly. Dates are super important to him, and he never misses one. He wants you to feel special every day. You made him feel like the most special man when you married him, so it’s only natural that he wants to give you that back. He listens to what you like and what you want to do. You can mention wanting to go see a specific movie, going to eat at a specific restaurant you saw on TikTok, or anything at all once to him, and the next thing you know is that you find yourself in that specific place with him. <3

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who loves your sense of style. He loves seeing you in skirts, dresses, jeans, just anything. Everything looks good on you. He loves having matching outfits with you. That’s kind of your thing. You wear pink? Oh, he has no problem with that; he will wear pink too. He loves the jealous and petty stares from strangers when you guys are walking around hand in hand with matching outfits.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who spoils you to the brim. He gets you flowers weekly. He buys you everything and anything you even look at. You always tell him that he doesn’t have to and that he needs to stop spoiling you so much. He doesn’t listen to you. God forbid you even mention to him that you need something from Sephora or some other store; he immediately gets up and tells you to get ready so you can leave. Drives you to Sephora and lets you take anything you want. Lets you use his hand where you can swatch lipsticks, lip liners, and really anything that you see. He doesn’t mind.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who basically has a fan account of you in all his socials. All he does is post you or post pictures of you two together. Oh, he’s cocky about it too; he wants everyone to know that you’re his and that he’s giving you the best life. He’s giving you everything that no one else could. There’s never been a situation with him where you’ve had to ask him to post you. The second you started dating, he started posting you all the way to marriage.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who loves late-night drives with you. He loves the vibe. Just the two of you in your own little world you’ve built together. Him driving and keeping a hand on your thigh while the radio blasts your favorite songs. You guys sing and giggle, just happy with each other's presence. Usually these drives end up with having sex in the backseat. Can you blame him? Not really.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who lets you put stickers all over him and take pictures of him while you sit on his lap. He lets you tie bows on his biceps and his hair. He pretty much lets you do anything as long as you just sit on his lap and beg for him a bit, giving him your best puppy eyes.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who pretends to be all tough but deep down loves when you baby him. Oh, how smiley he gets when you give him kisses all over his face, compliment him over and over again, and play with his hair and back. He will give you his bambi like eyes when you stop even for a second. Buries his face on your neck and places soft kisses there. He also expects you to give him kisses constantly! He loves kissing you.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who’s shown you what true love is. He loves you gently and genuinely. Just the way you deserve and have dreamed of. You thought that love like this wouldn’t exist or be available for you at all. Until he came around and showed you how much you deserve to be cherished. He’s proven to you that he has heart eyes only for you, and never have you ever been unsure of that or scared that he’s going to do you wrong. He’s patient and reassuring. In his eyes you’re the only woman.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who is needy for you all the time, and when he gets needy, it doesn’t matter where you guys are; he will find a place where he can fuck you. Pretty much everything you do gets him horny. He knows your body like the back of his hands, and he knows exactly how to get you going too. I mean, you are not any better than him. Just as needy for your perfect husband.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who knows the effect he has on you. Oh, and he's enjoying it. He’s such a fucking tease about it too, omfg. Walks around shirtless with only grey sweatpants on. Flexes his biceps purposefully with that smirk of his. Touches your waist and hips squeezing them. Holds your face while you’re talking to him and calls you his good girl praising you all times.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who is a nasty freak. Loves to record sextapes with you, only for his and your eyes though. Loves to rewatch them when you’re away. The way you whimper under him, not being able to form a response for him when he asks you something :( He’s just fucking you so good you can’t speak. The way your eyes roll back when he hits that special spot and how you pretty much let him do anything he wants with you.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who’s absolutely obsessed with your body. Like everything about your body. You’re a little bratty over the fact. You guys could be arguing about something, and all you need to do is flash your tits, and the argument is forgotten. Maybe even bend over in front of him a bit, and you were never even having an argument. You love to tease him when you guys are out with mutual friends or his friends. You purposefully wear a tight dress that showcases your body in all the right places. I fear that function is ending quickly for you two.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who absolutely loves morning sex. What a better way to start the day than fucking his wife so sweetly and gently? He’s so soft. It’s like making love to you, not even having sex. His cock feels so good inside you. He’s touching you everywhere and leaving soft kisses everywhere. Cherishing every part of your body while thrusting inside of you.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG, who loves when you give him head. You look so pretty infront of him on your knees, so eager to please him. Almost has a hard time not coming the second you take him in your warm mouth. You work your mouth so well around his cock, and you even let him fuck your throat! He loves seeing you gag and when the tears spill from your pretty eyes. Oh, and he notices the way your eyes roll back when he grabs your hair. His nasty little wife.

[ozzgin]

You plan to throw them a surprise party, they think you're leaving the school. Misunderstandings should be avoided when you're dealing with a pack of obsessively attached students, yet here you are. content: gender neutral reader, yandere horde, parody, kidnapping, Patreon commission

[Yandere School Masterlist]

You’ve been acting strange lately. As the end of the year approaches, so has your behaviour become increasingly suspicious: acting emotional at random times, frequently reminiscing your arrival at Yandere School, asking your classmates to take another photo in order to commemorate the moment. Something is about to happen.

“A surprise party?”

Your mother eyes you curiously, putting the cutlery down. You nod, wiping the corner of your mouth with a napkin, and your father hums without gazing up from his 1001 Ways to Stalk book.

“I just wanted to thank everyone for helping me all this time,” you explain with a faint blush, idly nudging your breakfast around the plate. “To be honest with you, I don’t think I would’ve passed any of my classes without them.”

Your statement is by no means an exaggeration. As it turns out, sheer determination alone does not necessarily compensate for lack of talent or proper skill. You wanted to follow your parents’ footsteps, yet you quickly discovered that having a dream wasn’t merely enough to compete against the true elites of the yandere world. It was out of the kindness of your classmates and staff that you nonetheless succeeded. Your teachers stayed behind with you, your classmates wasted their weekends helping you through every step of the homework. To think such a fierce, cut-throat community would go against its very nature and extend unconditional support, to you of all people...Ah, you’re getting flustered again.

“That’s a fantastic idea, honey,” your mother encourages with a warm smile. “I’m sure they will love it.”

Meanwhile, somewhere away from your peaceful morning meal, the students are gathered with roughened faces and clenched fists, weighted down by an unspoken tension.

“I think it’s already obvious to everyone here,” a young man declares sombrely, taking a moment to observe the masses, “that (Y/N) is most likely considering dropping out.”

“How could this happen,” someone else shouts, voice breaking theatrically. “We did everything to keep their grades up. I’m certain it worked; I broke into the school’s grading system to confirm for myself!”

“Maybe we were too involved,” someone sheepishly suggests.

“Nonsense.”

“Well, they did catch us in the changing rooms that one time,” someone admits. 

“Ah, what about the time we stole their childhood albums to make copies for our shrines? (Y/N)’s mom almost killed us!”

“Don’t forget when our coach got caught sniffing (Y/N)’s confiscated jacket.”

“Can you blame him? That scent’s heavenly.”

Everyone nods in approval, then scrambles back into a focused frown after being scolded by the apparent leader of the pack. We must stay focused, he warns with authority.

This is no laughing matter. If you were to transfer to a different school, they would lose their one and only Darling! There’s no telling how the students and staff will react; there could be riots, wars, utter chaos. One could even go as far as to say that your fate no longer depends on your own whims. Your presence is of political importance, potentially causing irremediable damage to all involved parties if you’d ever make a rash decision.

“Do you have a date in mind,” your mother asks, taking away the empty plates.

You shake your head confidently, standing up from the table.

“We must settle this quickly, gentlemen,” the leader warns. “Mark down the date in your calendars.”

“Could it be that we got the time wrong,” your father probes, tapping his foot impatiently.

“No, I’m certain it’s today,” the woman retorts, checking her watch.

The classroom is overflowing with dazzling party elements, from balloons, to colourful garlands, to tables cluttered with snacks and appetizers; yet it’s missing the most important element – the people. You!

You shake your head to no avail. The blindfold is tightly secured over your eyes, and the intricate knots roped around your body leave no room for any kind of movement. You can tell you’re presently tucked in the trunk of a car, though you’ve no idea where said car is headed or why you’re folded in here to begin with.

Did you forget about some school appointment? No, the next kidnapping simulation should be after the holidays. You’re also rather confident you haven’t accidentally promised to be the study partner of some classmate on this day in particular. You should know; you have a thick scheduling notebook just for this purpose, given most of the school seems to be eager to tie you up and pretend to steal you away. Whatever happened to that third year who actually tried to leave the country with you? Despite your reassurance that you never once feared for your life, they still suspended him.

Ah, but now is not the time to daydream about the good old days. You have a party to attend. Your parents should already be at school, and you’d guess that most of your friends are on their way there. What will they think once they realize their host is missing? What a deplorable way to show them your gratitude!

Before you can consider how to escape this predicament, the door opens with nonchalance, and you’re carefully carried out and placed onto the ground. The blindfold is swiftly removed, causing you to squint your eyes against the sudden avalanche of light.

“What are you guys doing here,” you mumble in shock, gawking at more than half the school standing across from you.

“Don’t do this to us, (Y/N),” one girl cries out, collapsing to her knees and punching the ground for additional effect.

“What did I say about emotional blackmail,” the leader grunts. He snaps his fingers, and a pair of students lift the offender up, dragging her to the back of the group as she shouts in protest.

“Do excuse our methods, (Y/N),” he proceeds to explain with the calculated tone of someone deep in negotiations, “but you have to understand we’re all struggling to accept your decision. If we have ever wronged you or made you feel uncomfortable, let us know and we shall ensure immediate punishment for it!”

“Wait, what decision?”

“To leave Yandere School,” someone bawls, the others lowering their gaze. “We won’t accept it! Never!”

There’s a moment of silence as you process the words, lips pursed in confusion.

“Don’t lie to us, you’ve been acting strange for the past few weeks.”

“I mean, yeah, I was...planning a surprise party to, uh, thank you for all your help. Although I can see why you’d think it was a goodbye announcement instead,” you say, letting out an awkward chuckle.

Oh. That’s what it was. Well, it makes sense. It’s definitely something you’d do, upon further consideration. The crowd erupts in a murmur, and the leader of the pack rubs his temples, visibly humiliated to be caught in this farce of a misunderstanding. With ears flushed red, he quietly asks you for the location, then scrambles to retrieve the car.

“I’m so glad they showed up,” your mother sighs in relief, gesturing to a nearby teacher. “I was worried I might have to use the stun gun, had anything happened to my little (Y/N).”

A couple of your classmates swallow dryly, tugging at their collars. It’s the second time they’ve narrowly escaped death at the hand of your parents.

One student is angrily stuffing his mouth with some of the appetizers, trying to hold back the tears. If he knew it was all just a misunderstanding, he would’ve tried his luck with you instead of chauffeuring you around. Good Lord, to think you were all tied up, just for him, and he fumbled it.

[pyronovas]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | You've patched up Joel countless times before, but this is different.

author's note | i'm taking a little break to work through some series and pre-write but i needed to write a little fix it fic for my own well being. ANYWHO, if you're reading this, thank you <3 and thank you to @chaotic-mystery for the beta read, love you bitch

content warning | hurt/comfort, fix-it-fic, jackson!joel, s2ep2 spoilers, established relationship, medic!reader, wound tending, mentions of leg injury and some face injuries, old man joel using a cane, flirting, fluff, kissing, i'm going to go cry again

word count — 3.8k

He’s breathing. Alive.

You’ve patched up Joel countless times - cuts and gashes that were too far out of reach for him to handle on his own, a busted ankle from a construction project gone wrong, the occasional painkiller to help with his aching bones. He was a regular within the clinic, like most of the patrol team. And he was your favorite, which wasn’t a secret.

But, this was different.

Tommy - as hard as he tried, attempted to shelter you with the rest of Jackson’s women and children, but it was useless.

You spent the last hour patching up the towns wounded and helping lay to the rest some of the less fortunate, but brave people who had attempted to defend Jackson from the impending horde.

In the chaos of cleaning up bloodied bandages and used medical supplies, the front door to the clinic sounds, bells ringing out so deafening it makes your heart stop.

And the sound of Tommy’s panicked voice as he called out your name.

When you turn the corner to catch sight of him, it was Tommy and Jesse carrying a limp, sleeping Joel on a makeshift gurney and equally injured Ellie holding tight to her ribs as Dina and Maria supported her weight, your eyes widening in shock.

“Fuck—I—what happened?” you ask, immediately sliding the supplies off of the only semi-available operating table you had in the office - it used to be a veterinary clinic, but the town was making do with what they had.

“You save my goddamn brother,” Tommy demanded, his tone riddled with an emotional pain you couldn’t fathom, taking the order in stride as you nodded and put your own curiosity aside, slowly accessing the weight of the situation and surmising that this had been an ambush, more or less, “alright?”

You access his knee, jeans matted with blood around his festering wound, his leg tourniqueted by a belt that Tommy explains wasn’t there doing, rather the attackers. His pulse is steady as your fingers over his femoral artery once you’ve cut his jeans open further with the scissors.

“El—Ellie,” your voice shakes slightly, looking over your shoulder to catch her grimace as she hunched over further in pain, “she needs—”

“I’ve got her,” Maria assures you and Tommy, who was understandably only focused on Joel.

You don’t waste another second, working around Tommy on instinct while Jesse followed the girls to the back room, a gentle but reassuring hand on your shoulder as he passes by.

Your hands move gently over his wound, mind racing through every step of triage and trauma care as if your nerves hadn’t already been shot an hour ago. You didn’t know how many wounds you’ve treated today, but Joel’s was the worst—and unspeakably, the most important.

The wound is bad. Deep.

Frayed flesh around the spread of the bullet, a shotgun you can assume, already turning an angry red. The steps were simple, fortunately. You’ll have to clean it out, maybe even dig if the bullet fragments were lodged in deep. 

His face is a mosaic of bruises and dried blood, and he hasn’t stirred once.

That—more than the sight of the injury itself—makes something in your chest clench.

Tommy’s gripping the table tight, white knuckling as his jaw clenched in worry.

“Do I want to know?” you ask softly.

Tommy shakes his head slightly, “Ellie ain’t said much—jus’ know whatever the problem was, it isn’t one anymore.”

“He’s gonna need blood,” you explain to him as you work quietly but carefully on the wound, grateful that most of the issue was at the surface and that with enough time to heal and consistent check-ins, Joel would recover.

Undoubtedly with a limp, but you knew Joel—he’d manage.

The quiet is unsettling, though.

He should be fighting this. Groaning. Cursing. Something.

But he’s still.

Too still.

Tommy stays rooted in place like he’s afraid Joel will vanish if he lets go.

Part of you carries that fear, too.

With the attack on Jackson, everything seemed up in the air.

“I need you to keep your hand here,” you say firmly, guiding his hand to the artery in his leg, feeling the steady pulse underneath your fingertips. “Count the beats, focus. If it slows, weakens—don’t wait, tell me.”

Tommy nods, jaw still clenched tight.

He’s got blood dripping from a cut in his brow, covered in dirt and grime, streaks on his face from the tears he was shedding quietly, it was your only attempt to busy his mind.

You work diligently, more focused than you had been all evening.

Forceps clink against the metal tray as you dig out fragments, your breath hitching every time Joel twitches—barely, like his body’s fighting beneath layers of pain and unconsciousness.

You glance toward the IV stand that was taped to hell, barely holding on.

Just like everything else in Jackson at the moment – like Joel.

“I’m gonna flush the wound,” you murmur more to yourself than Tommy, gripping the saline syringe with steady hands. “Then I’ll stitch it. Antibiotics to be safe. He’ll need pain meds and I need to work on the cuts to his face, but I want his body to rest. We have morphine stored away, but I know Joel will probably refuse…”

Tommy doesn’t respond. Just keeps his hand pressed where you told him, eyes locked on Joel’s face like he’s willing him to wake.

“He still needs blood, Tommy,” you remind him, “but I don’t know his blood type.”

“I’m O-negative,” Tommy interjects.

“That works,” you assure him, nodding for him to sit as you grab the supplies to draw Tommy’s blood, unflinching as the needle slips into his vein.

It’s all rather quick, kneeling to hold the bag as it fills while Tommy stares at his brother, looking briefly over your shoulder to catch his breathing, a slow rise and fall.

“He’s gonna be alright,” you assure Tommy, “the worst outcome here is him complaining about having to use a cane, if it comes to that.

Quietly, you tend to the small head wound that Tommy has and he doesn’t even attempt to argue, eyes flickering to your briefly at the gesture, tilting his head up for better access.

You move efficiently, like muscle memory as you tape up his wound before transferring the blood and prepping the line for Joel. 

The line finds Joel’s vein without much resistance, and you secure it with shaking fingers, your breath held as the dark crimson slowly, mercifully begins to flow into his body.

“C’mon, Joel,” you whisper under your breath. “Not you.”

“He was in and out on the way here,” Tommy comments, holding the cotton ball to use the wound as he stands and you quickly return to him to bandage up and pressure the wound, “but now he’s just…still. That ain’t good,”

“It’s the body responding to the pain,” you remind him, “he’s clearly lost a lot of blood, his face is bruised—the important thing is he’s breathing and his pulse is good. Just…let me work on him. Go check on Ellie.”

Tommy hesitates, glancing back at Joel like his feet were already rooted permanently to the floor. Then his eyes shift to yours—tired, firm, unwavering—and he nods, finally stepping away. 

Just far enough to check on Ellie. 

Just long enough to breathe.

The second he’s gone, it’s just you and Joel.

–

The room feels colder without the presence of Tommy’s worry. 

You stitch slowly, methodically, carefully maneuvering around the skin until you are satisfied, constantly eyeing Joel to gauge a reaction, noticing some of his color had returned, hair damp with melted snow.

If he was awake he’d be grumbling and complaining and part of you hates how much you wanted to hear it as you bandage up his knee, assuring that bleeding was under control before you removed the belt on his upper thigh and grabbing a spare blanket to drape over his body as you move down to tend to his face, riddled with cuts and bruises.

You press a hand against his and pull it to his chest, resting gently against the fabric of his shirt. 

His palm is rough, calloused, and warm—thank god, still warm.

You clean the last of the blood from his face, wiping gently along the arc of his brow, around the corner of his eye that was slightly swollen. A bruise is blooming dark down the line of his jaw, but under it—his face is still familiar.

Still him.

After a stretch of time that feels like eternity, Maria and Tommy return to the front room of the clinic, looking fearful as their eyes land on Joel.

“He’s alright,” you assure them both, “he probably needed the rest, too.”

Tommy chuckles weakly at that, “I—we’re…we’re gonna go pick up Benji, but we’ll be back, alright?”

You nod in response, “I’m not leaving until he wakes up Tommy, I promised.”

“I know, kiddo,” Tommy says endearingly, approaching you with arms open slightly, enveloping you into a short hug that were few and far between, “Ellie’s asleep, too. Dina and Jesse are sticking around until she settles.”

The front door clicks shut behind Tommy and Maria, the heavy silence seeping back in soon after.

You don’t move far, bringing a stool to sit beside Joel.

The clinic is dim now, the lights softened by fucky wiring as the evening crept in.

You can hear Jesse’s and Dina’s muffled voice in the back—low and quiet—and the distant creak of the cot Ellie’s curled into. But here, in this room, it’s just you. 

And Joel, and the quiet hum of his breathing.

You reach up to brush a stray bit of hair from his temple, your hand pausing just above his skin.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you whisper. “If you were awake, I’d be screaming at you,”

And you know he’d only smile.

Joel doesn’t respond, but his breathing shifts. 

Not much—just enough to prove he’s still there, riding the edge of sleep and pain.

“You enjoy it, though. You always laugh, I know it’s pointless and that you’re just stubborn as all hell and I’m willing to put up with it,” you push the few strands of hair away from his face and sigh, “guess there’s a reason why you always ask for me.”

A few hours pass, the night creeping in slowly amongst the storm that roared outside.

You glance at his hand after a thorough check-up and redressing his wound for good measure, still resting palm-up where you’d placed it. Hesitant, your fingers slip into his, lacing slowly. 

You wait. No squeeze. 

But, the warmth is enough.

Then, a shift.

A low grunt, almost imperceptible.

Your breath catches. You look up sharply, eyes scanning his face. One eye twitches. His brow furrows just slightly.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t open his eyes, but his mouth moves.

“Ellie?” he asks weakly, squeezing your hand back.

Tears burn your eyes before you can stop them, relief flooding your chest in waves.

You squeeze his hand back again. Tight. “She’s okay—she’s good,” you whisper quickly, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, not that it helps.

Joel breathes out, like the tension’s finally releasing from somewhere deep inside his chest. 

You watch the slow rise and fall of him for a moment, just taking it in. Life.

Then his eyes crack open, albeit one is swollen, but hazy and bloodshot and focused on you.

His brows twitch as he looks at you.

“You cryin’?” he rasps, voice rough but teasing.

Even now, he teases you.

“You worried the hell out of me,” you tell him.

“Did I?” Joel asks genuinely, “M’sorry, darlin’.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Joel grimaces and makes a soft noise, “S’all touch and go, right now. I’m really tired, that normal?”

“I gave you some painkillers,” you explain, “probably why.”

Joel looks around gingerly, noting the mess with an amused expression.

“Cleaned up real nice for me, didn’t you?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you mutter dryly, shifting to adjust the blanket over him. “Next time, I’ll set up some mood lighting and put some music on for you.”

Joel groans low in his throat, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

“Nah. You singin’ for me would be good enough.”

You snort softly, “I don’t sing.”

“Shame,” he murmurs, barely audible, his eyes slipping closed again. “Bet it’d be real pretty, you got a pretty voice, know you’d sing pretty too.”

Your chest squeezes, caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath you can’t quite take.

“You’re losing it, old man.”

Joel smiles weakly.

“Maybe.”

A long pause and he speaks even soften.

“Still think you got a nice voice, though.”

–

You stay beside him. Even after he dozes back off, you don’t move—not far. Never quite letting go of his hand either. Just shift the stool closer and brace your elbow on the edge of the bed, chin tucked in your other hand. 

The storm outside has softened, now more wind than snow, rattling the windows with every gust.

You don’t realize you’ve nodded off until something shifts. A sound—low, grumbly.

“…you snore a little,” Joel rasps.

You straighten quickly and shake your head, blinking through a sleep haze as you answer him defiantly, “I do not, Miller.”

“Oh—you do, sweetheart,” Joel challenges, a subtle smirk playing at his face, staring at you through his swollen eye.

“Good to know you never stop being insufferable,” you tease him.

“Just like seein’ you laugh,” Joel admits before a silence grows, a look of subtle concern crossing his face, “How bad was it? The horde?”

“We’ve dealt with stuff like that before, maybe not at that level but it isn’t something we’re not prepared for. A couple didn’t make it, got bitten defending the watchtower—Jackson can always rebuild, we mourn, move on, you know? With you, s’different,”

Joel, for once, doesn’t know how to respond.

You see it then—that quiet, careful look he sometimes gives you when he thinks you're not watching. Like he’s cataloguing you. Not in some grand, poetic way. More like he’s memorizing how you look when you're safe. When he needs the reminder of it.

You’re too tired to do anything but meet it.

“I ain't goin' anywhere,” he says finally, voice rough but firm, “You can stop lookin’ at me like I’m about to flatline.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Joel smirks faintly. “You’ve been holdin’ my hand for a while,”

“Oh,” it started to feel like an extension of you, his touch, but you slowly attempted to retract.

“Don’t,” Joel tells you, gripping your hand tighter, shifting his head against the makeshift pillow underneath his head that you had made out of his jacket halfway through the night.

“Thanks for not givin’ up on me,” Joel says gently,

You glance over, unsure how to respond at first.

“You really think I would?”

“Dunno,” he says, voice low, “don’t really think I deserve the effort anymore from anyone…”

He trails off, but it hangs between you anyway. 

The way he says it—soft, raw—like the words snuck out before he could stop it.

You lean in slightly, brushing your thumb just once over the back of his hand.

“I’m not anyone, Joel.”

Joel looks at you again, his expression shifting.

His fingers curl around yours again. Warmer this time. Intentional.

“Five years I’ve known you—I’ve patched your ass up more times than I can count. I’ve had dinners with you, beers with you and your brother. This isn’t my attempt at gaining some good karma. I care about you just as much as the rest of this town.”

“You’re too good to me,” Joel says quietly.

–

Jackson rebuilds, but it takes time.

Eventually, you find out that the assailants were after Joel—but Jesse and Ellie had shown up at a crucial point in the ambush that saved Joel and Dina’s life, despite his extensive injuries.

And Joel, stubborn as he was, began to heal.

The first few weeks are slow, mostly bed-ridden - or office-ridden, leg propped up at his desk as he and Tommy planned out the rebuild process and you rounded your daily office visit to him for assurance that he was taking the antibiotics you had given him and checking on his wound.

It takes a few months, but he does get on his feet again.

He’s resilient, you’ll give him that. An injury that would take no less than six to eight months before the healing was done and Joel was already moving, though with some noticeable pain.

You spot him halfway down the main road on the first name where Jackson was finally starting to feel normal again, walking out of the Tipsy Bison with a pronounced limp.

You sigh to yourself, shifting the object under your arm and start down the road.

“Joel Miller.”

He doesn’t stop walking, but he flinches a little. 

He’s been avoiding you for a couple weeks now, knowing how insistent you had been about him using something to support his leg, just to give it a break once in a while.

“I will chase you down.”

He stops.

You close the distance, holding up the object in your hand.

“If you don’t use this, I’m following you everywhere, barring you from walking, and pushing you around in a wheelchair.”

He eyes the cane. Then your face. Then the cane again.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s exactly what you think it is.”

He scowls. “I’m not usin’ a damn cane.”

“You’re still healing,” you tell him, “and if you care about my worries—you’ll use it.”

“That’s low,” Joel counters,

You had spent a week sanding down the cane to a smooth texture, rounding out the handle to something comfortable to grip, even polished it up. It was extravagant or crazy, but it was clearly made with love.

“Did you make it?” Joel asks curiously.

“Doesn’t matter,” You shrug.

Joel smirks at that. 

You had. He knows it.

He takes it wordlessly, wrapping his fingers around the handle and planting it into the ground.

He tests it out wordlessly, leaning his weight into it and only slightly annoyed at how it eases the weight on his injured leg, looking up at you sheepishly.

“So….should I say it now or?”

“Zip it,” Joel retorts with a faint playfulness, “it…helps, s’real nice of you, you know?”

You raise your brow. “You sayin’ I was right? Knowing you needed it?”

“Don’t push it.” Joel warns

“Say it.” you tease with a flirtatious smile that doesn’t go amiss.

Joel sighs, scratching at his jaw. “You were… not completely wrong.”

You beam, and he rolls his eyes, though the edge of his mouth quirks up.

After a beat, he taps the cane gently against the side of your boot.

“Walk with me?” he asks.

He didn’t even need to ask.

–

There wasn’t any indication of where you were walking to, but naturally you drift to your shared street, homes sitting on opposite sides of the street, but near enough that you were only a short walk away.

The cane clicks softly against the dirt road like a steady metronome to the quiet shuffle of your boots. His limp is pronounced, but less severe than it was a few weeks ago.

The streets are quieter these days. Jackson feels like it's exhaling after holding in a long overdue breath.

Joel walks with his shoulder close to yours. Not touching, but close enough that it would only take a shift. He’s never been one for words, not when the moment matters most—but his silence is full of meaning.

Or, maybe he is just savoring the peace.

“You really made this?” he asks again after a few paces, like he needs to be sure.

You nod shyly, hands shoving into your coat pockets.

He’s quiet for a while, but then, “It’s real thoughtful of you.”

“I was gonna carve your name into it, actually,” you joke, nudging him gently with your elbow, “but Tommy said that was a bad idea.”

Joel chuckles low under his breath. “He’d be right.”

Through your sudden shared laughter, your knuckles brush.

It’s nothing, but it feels like so much.

As you approach your houses, Joel turns to you.

“Do you need anything?” you ask him gently. “I can stop by later if you need some pain meds or anything? Or yell at you for not resting up at home like you should.”

Joel huffs, shaking his head. “Always lookin’ for a reason to yell at me, huh?”

“Only ‘cause you keep givin’ me so many,” you tease.

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes scanning your face in the too quiet dark.

“You stayed the whole night,” he says finally, like he’s been holding it in for a while.

“I told Tommy I wouldn’t leave until you woke up.”

Joel nods once. He shifts his weight on the cane, hesitating just slightly, before adding, “I heard you—talkin’ to me.”

“You did?” you ask, your voice quiet. “Well, that’s…embarrassing.”

Joel’s gaze drops to your hand lingering close to his—he hadn’t even realized he’d reached out until it was too late, his hand dwarfing your own in a gentle hold of your fingertips. 

It’s a small touch, but it grounds him.

You flinch slightly at the touch, feeling the heaviness of the moment

“You can let go,” he says, looking back up at you.

You smile faintly. “I don’t want to.”

Joel hums thoughtfully. “Seems I don’t want to either,”

And in that soft hum between houses, under the stars beginning to peek through the roaming clouds overhead, Joel leans in, his cane shifting a few inches behind you as he leans his weight into it to reach you, his lips pressing against yours in a quiet, tender moment of vulnerability under the dim street lights.

“Never got to thank you properly,” Joel admits.

“Is that your way of saying thank you?” you ask curiously.

“Can be,” Joel responds mischievously, a smirk tugging at his lips as you pull back to look at him.

“I think you can do better,” you challenge him, nose brushing against his own.

“You’re damn right,” he agrees, using his free hand to curve around the back of your neck as he pulls you in, stealing your breath away with the second press of his lips.

When he parts, you can’t help but giggle against him, an indescribable feeling tightening your chest.

“Yeah…that’s—” You breath stutters as you nod, “that’ll do.”

Joel chuckles softly, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“Good, ‘cause I got a lot of thankin’ to make up for.”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman

[A loose continuation to this post]

Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.

And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.

"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.

It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.

"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.

The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.

Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."

Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."

At least that makes the man move.

When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.

The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.

"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.

"This is not necessary, Mother."

"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.

"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.

"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."

She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.

Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"

"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.

Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.

"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.

Damian doesn't answer.

The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-

A few things happen at once.

Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.

But Talia's blade doesn't strike.

A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.

Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.

But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.

"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.

"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.

But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.

"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.

Hold the fuck up, brother?

"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.

"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.

"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.

"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."

There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.

Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.

"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.

"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.

"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."

"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."

Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.

"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."

[waffleswithdragons]

A Mother’s Blessing

A family reunion leads Hiccup to realize just how important you are to have in his life forever.

Pairing : Hiccup x Reader

Warnings: None

There was a similarity between the two; that was for sure.

Hiccup had always theorized that he took after his mother; even if he couldn’t remember her features. The comparisons between father and son were slim if existent; so much so that Hiccup often joked his father was given the wrong babe. Now finally, his theory of his appearance coming from his mother was finally presented with evidence.

It was more than appearance though; anyone who knew Hiccup well enough would understand that. They both shared the same mannerisms.

His mother-Valka, talked wildly with her hands as you watched her show off the sanctuary she had been calling home for 20 years; the same way Hiccup did when he was trying to explain his thoughts. They both shuffled from one foot to another; as if it hurt to stand still; their minds already miles away.

The eyes were the most similar. Not particularly the color or the shape; though there was obviously a connection. It was something you had only seen in Hiccup before, what had drawn you to them. A sense of kindness and compassion; a wonder of the world and all it had to offer.

So yes, it definitely appeared that the son took after the mother; and now the two were reunited at last.

Your eyes drifted to the man beside you for a few moments. His shaggy hair a bit windswept and his gaze struck on his mother as she fawned over Toothless; the Night Fury happy to be dotted on.

“He’s beautiful.” Valka remarked as she rubbed the dragon’s snout. Her smile met her eyes as she looked up at her son; elated that he shared her love of the flying beasts. Her gaze then wandered past the boy to you; noting how your own gaze was on her son; a look she remembered well from her own youth.

With a final pat to Toothless’ head, Valka rose from where she had been kneeling, a grip on her staff as she took a few steps closer to you, offering a kind smile.

“You’re quite beautiful too, lass.” Her words caused you to blush, mummering a quiet ‘Thank you’ as you glanced over to Hiccup, a soft smile on his face as well.

Valka smiled lightly at the interaction between the two young vikings in front of her. She raised the hand not grasped around her staff, slowly reaching out towards you. Once you gave her a soft nod, she gently placed her hand on the side of your face; taking in your features.

“I can see why he likes you.” She whispered, a note meant for you two as she gently nodded towards her son.

Your grin widened at the comment as you giggled out, “Don’t let him know, but I’m pretty fond of him too.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Hiccup called out, his eyes soft as he leaned against Toothless.

You pulled from Valka to look towards the viking boy, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “Just catching your mom up on how you got yourself tangled in Bucket’s fishing net last week.”

“Oh, you’re a real comedian, you know that!” Hiccup rolled his eyes, though the grin on his face gave him away.

As you turned to face the boy, Valka’s eyes drifted down towards the charm hanging around your neck. Her eyes widened softly as she looked at it with remembrance; the metal faces of viking and a dragon looking up at her from where they rested against your tunic. The gift that Stoick had presented her with all those years ago, before they joined as wife and husband now hung around your neck; a promise that now bound you and Hiccup.

You watched her carefully as she gently held the betrothal necklace in her hands, running her fingers softly against the carving, a look of peace and thought on her face. A moment later, she gently returned the pendant to where it hung against your chest, a soft smile on her face.

“Come,” She took a step back, looking between you and her son as she turned towards the sanctuary, “I have so much to show you both.”

A few hours later you laid out on the grassy cliffs of the sanctuary. The sun had set and most of the dragons had laid down for the night, the soft sounds of their breathing and water ripples filing the nest.

Hiccup laid beside you, one arm around your waist and holding your body to his. From inside the caves you both could hear the laughter from Valka, Stoick and Gobber as the reminisced on their youths and caught up.

The hand Hiccup had snaked around your waist had found its way to the necklace against your chest, as it so often did. He ran his thumb against the carving, tracing the pattern with his fingertips as you both looked out across the land.

“Your mom is really great.” You hummed out, your voice low since you were so close to the man next to you.

Hiccup nodded, adjusting his head slightly to press a quick kiss against the crown of your hairline, “Yeah, she-she’s,” He paused for a moment, “She’s everything I expected and more.”

A loud laugh that belonged to none other than the Chief of Berk rang out from the caves before you spoke out, “Your dad seems really happy too. He must have missed her so much.”

Twenty years sure was a long time to be separated from the love of your life. Hiccup cast his eyes down to you, he could barely go an hour without seeing you let alone a few days or twenty years.

“Hey,” You turned your body so that you were now facing Hiccup after a moment of silence, your nose a few inches from his own, “What are you thinking about in there?” You punctuated your question by reaching up to Hiccup’s forehead and pushing his hair back.

Hiccup reached up, gently grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand down to his mouth to press a soft kiss to the back of it.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes crinkled in confusion though a smile sat on your face, “What?”

“When we get back to Berk.” Hiccup explained, moving the hand he had been holding to rest against his cheek, “Let’s get married. We’re already betrothed and we’ve been together for years. Sure, we may need a few weeks to get everything planned; but my dad will officiate and Astrid can do your hair. We’ll need rings, and to get you a dress of course and we can stay with my parents until our house is finished and-“

“You’re serious.” You cut him off, sitting on the grass now as he moved up to join you, his eyes on yours.

“Of course.” His hands found your own in your lap, “Seeing my mom and my dad today; they love each other so much, even after all these years. I want to wake up every day with you and go to sleep next to you every night to do it all again. I wanna grow old with you and have a life together. I love you-“

A few tears pricked in your eyes as you squeezed his hands, “I love you too.”

Hiccup smiled; one of those bright smiles that reached his eyes and made his whole face light up, “Then marry me. Please.”

A wide grin broke on your face as you threw yourself onto him. Hiccup’s back hitting the grass as you pressed your chest to his and held him in a deep kiss. Your hands flew to the sides of his face, one pushing back to entangle in his hair as his hands quickly found a place on your waist, squeezing your sides gently as you kissed each other passionately.

“So,” Hiccup breathed out as your foreheads leaned against each other, “Does-does that mean you say yes?”

You rolled your eyes, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose as you smiled down at him, “Of course it means yes.”

Hiccup lifted up slightly to steal a kiss from you, his head returning to the ground as he smiled up at you, “We’re getting married.”

“Yeah, we’re getting married.”

[onlymingyus]

Let Me Hear You Say...

pairing; kim mingyu x f reader

genre; smut (minor dni), heavy angst, fluff, toxic, ranch au, brothers best friend au

summary; Your brother calls you home and you quickly remember why you left the ranch in the first place. At least the scenery got a lot more handsome with the ranch foreman, Kim Mingyu at his side.

content warnings; death of a family member, family trauma, older brother!seungcheol, lawyer!reader, ranch hand/foreman!mingyu, ranch hands – jun/soonyoung/chan, arguing, crying, toxic family relationship, eating/drinking, rich reader & seungcheol, physical fight, blood, bruises. i know nothing about how an estate actually works and that shows but i did my best. (Patreon has it’s own warnings)

smut warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), mingyu is able to carry the reader (strength kink), pet names.

w/c; 28.8k and some change (including Patreon bonus)

a/n; thank you to my june for proofreading. i love you sugar butt. i hope you guys like this one. its very much self serving. i mean come on… it’s mingyu and its ranch au (im as southern as southern can be). thank you for reading my loves!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“She’s here for how long?” 

Lifting two of the suitcases, Mingyu grunts at the weight of the one in his left hand before tilting his head in disbelief as Seungcheol takes out two more suitcases from the back of his SUV. 

“Uh… I don’t know. A couple weeks? Maybe longer. However long it takes to work through the paperwork and shit.” 

Mingyu had never met you, but he had heard plenty of stories about the infamous baby Choi. While Seungcheol had stayed home and learned the ropes from your father—eventually taking on the ranch—you had other plans. 

Leaving Montana in your rearview mirror, you headed for New York, went to school, got your law degree, and were on your way to making partner at one of the most elite practices in the city. Everything got put on hold with a single phone call from your brother asking you to come home, sorrow in his voice as he struggled through having to tell you the news both of you had been dreading for a while—your father had passed away. That had been a few months ago. You both had survived the funeral but now the hard stuff was keeping you both from moving on so you found yourself back.

“Put your back into it, Gyu. They can’t be that heavy. You throw hay daily, and now you’re whining over a suitcase?” 

Mocking Seungcheol’s teasing, Mingyu follows behind him with a grunt as he lifts your bags, making his way into the large main house where you already were. "Yeah, well, hay weighs less than this shi—” Feeling his words get caught in his throat as he moves into the living room, meeting your eyes for the first time, Mingyu swallows hard and watches as Seungcheol puts what he was carrying down before moving to pull you into a tight hug. God, you were pretty. Mingyu didn’t know what he had been expecting. He had seen pictures of you, of course, but that was different than being in the same damn room as you. 

“Hey, squirt. How was the flight?” 

As much as you weren’t looking forward to being home, the comfort of a tight hug from your big brother was just what the doctor had ordered. Burying your face against his jacket, you sigh softly before taking in a breath, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you before you finally take a step back and shrug, meeting Seungcheol’s eyes and feeling another set lingering on you. “Exhausting. Not even business class could make a five-hour flight bearable.” Finally looking past your brother, when you hear a set of heavier bags hitting the hardwood floor, you lift your brow, meeting the eyes of the other man curiously. “That’s Louis Vuitton.” 

Unsure if you are speaking directly to him, Mingyu glances behind him before lifting his hand to touch his chest and shaking his head. “Nah, Kim Mingyu.” 

Scoffing under your breath, you hear your brother chuckle before he shakes his head and gestures back to the man who had just introduced himself. 

“As the idiot said, he’s Kim Mingyu. He’s smarter than he seems, I promise. He just isn’t used to all your fancy shit, Y/N.” 

Forcing yourself to not roll your eyes, you move past your brother and towards Mingyu, who visibly takes a deep breath watching you lean down to your luggage. “Clearly. It rolls, Kim Mingyu, and Louis Vuitton is the name of the brand that made this luggage.” Pushing on the button to extend the handle, you let out a soft sigh on your breath as you stand back to your full height in front of Mingyu, meeting his eyes once again. “Thanks for bringing it in. Are you, like, my brother’s bestie or something?” 

You didn’t fit in at all. If it wasn’t for some family resemblance, Mingyu wouldn’t even know that you and Seungcheol were siblings. For one, you were gorgeous, and Seungcheol was Seungcheol, and for two, you were saying shit that was going over Mingyu’s head, making him smile like an idiot. “Bestie? Uh… I mean sure. We’re close, but I work here, Miss Choi.” 

A smirk pulls at your lips when you hear your brother curse under his breath in disbelief; meanwhile, Mingyu has sparked your interest in several ways. “You do? What do you do?” 

Realizing you hadn’t corrected him, calling you Miss Choi, Mingyu swallows hard, his smile fading only slightly as he puts on a confident facade, not wanting to let you get the better of him. “Yeah, um—all kinds of things. I’m the ranch foreman so I’m in charge of all the other ranch hands. Make sure they do their jobs—” 

“So then what does Cheollie do?” 

“Alright, that’s enough. Gyu, the boys should be back from fixing that fence up on the ridge. Make sure Chan puts shit back where it belongs.” Seungcheol had seen this song and dance with you before with other ranch hands when you lived at home or when you would come home during the summer. You had broken a few hearts and got yours broken a few times in the process. You were too important, and what Seungcheol needed you home for was too necessary for you to be mixed up with someone who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later.” Nodding his head towards Seungcheol, Mingyu smiles softly before meeting your eyes and nodding his head again politely. “Ma’am.” 

Waving as Mingyu closes the large wooden door, you laugh under your breath hearing Seungcheol let out another exasperated sigh. “What? He’s cute.” 

“Leave him alone. He’s busy and he’s not used to girls like you.” 

Feigning shock, you pull the heavy bag behind you as Seungcheol lifts two of your bags, heading down the hall towards your bedroom. “Girls like me? What the fuck does that mean, Choi Seungcheol?” 

Your bedroom was much like it had been before you had left for university. You had changed things here and there, giving it a more grown-up feel, and yet every time you were back here, it felt like you were a teenager again. Watching Seungcheol put your bags at the end of your large bed, you narrow your eyes at him as he shakes his head to your question, finally turning to meet your eyes. 

“I don’t mean it bad. You are just... a lot. You never plan on sticking around so you tend to fuck with their heads. Can’t we just—” Sighing, Seungcheol moves towards you, putting his hands on your biceps as he offers you a smile. “Let’s just focus on getting the paperwork all worked out. Get this will shit out of the way and you can get back to doing whatever it is that you do.” 

Whatever it is that you do. Nodding along with Seungcheol’s words, you sigh before returning his smile, only strained. This was another reason you hated coming home. Seungcheol and your father had never understood why you had left home and done something different. You weren’t a ranch girl. You had a brain and you wanted to do something with it. It felt like to you that they only appreciated it when they needed it—like now. 

“Sure, whatever, Cheol. I’ll get it figured out for you, then get back to whatever it is that I do.” 

Mingyu enjoyed early mornings on the ranch. In his opinion, Montana sunrises were the prettiest thing that anyone could experience; at least they had been until he had seen you. There were things to get done—a literal laundry list of tasks that he had set in front of him for the day and yet as Mingyu walked with one of the horses next to him on a lead rope, he could only stare at you behind his sunglasses as you sipped your coffee on the patio while the sun rose behind you. This was his new favorite thing. 

One thing you had missed about being home was the quiet. The city, especially New York City, was anything but quiet. Leaning back in the chair, you sigh happily, feeling the coffee warm you from the inside out as you just enjoy the gentle breeze and silence. 

There weren’t too many people on the ranch to be up at this time. You had always been an early bird, usually beating your father and Seungcheol by an hour every day, but it seemed that the ranch foreman had a similar schedule as you. Lifting your hand from your coffee, you smile behind the cup when you catch Mingyu staring at you. It’s so obvious that he thinks that his sunglasses are hiding where he is looking when he looks startled by your sudden attention, turning his head back towards the horse stumbling over seemingly nothing in front of him. “Jesus… he is cute.” 

Clearing his throat, Mingyu opens the gate, unhooking the rope from the horse and patting on her side, guiding her inside the fenced-in area. He could almost feel your eyes on him still. You were brighter than the sun that was slowly rising and he knew he was going to have a hard time keeping his distance despite what Seungcheol had told him. 

‘She’s not here for long, Mingyu. ‘Sides… that’s my little sister, so clearly… off limits.’ 

You didn’t look so much like somebody’s little sister and it would be rude of Mingyu to avoid you the entire time you were home. Turning back towards the house, he lifts his hand in turn, waving back at you and watching a pretty smile spread across your face. God, he was in trouble. “Mornin’, Miss Choi.” 

Crossing your legs from one side to the other as you get more comfortable in the chair, you tilt your head, setting your coffee on the side table beside you as Mingyu makes his way towards you, wiping his hands off on his jeans. The ranch foremen in the past had never looked like this. They had always been grumpy old men picked by your father for their ability to keep the other hands in line, but clearly your brother had other things in mind when he picked Kim Mingyu for the job, and you weren’t complaining. He had to be what Taylor Swift was writing about when she won Grammys, as he strutted up in his tight blue jeans and tucked in a white t-shirt. 

“Good morning. You get started early. Coffee?” Gesturing to the glass carafe on the tray. You watch as Mingyu’s brows furrow behind his glasses before he nods, leaning to pick it up and study it as if it’s a complex piece of technology he’s never seen before. 

“Uh, yeah, sure. You pour your coffee into another pot before you drink it? That’s some fancy shit.” 

Unable to stop yourself from laughing, you offer Mingyu one of the extra cups from the tray as you shake your head, sitting back in your chair. “No, what are you talking about? Have you never had pour-over coffee before, Mingyu?” 

“Pour-over coffee? Can’t say I have, ma’am. I’ve had drip, gas station, and diner. They’ve never done me wrong.” Bringing the cup to his lips as he carefully sets the delicate glass pot back on the tray, Mingyu makes a bit of a face at the taste of the coffee before tilting his head as he sits down near you. “None of it quite tasted like this, though.” 

He was cute and funny. You had woken up dreading the day, but so far the company and the sky as the sun rose just behind you were worth the trip. “Yeah? That means you like it?” 

“It ain’t half bad. It sure ain’t gonna keep me going—not strong enough for that, but it tastes good.” 

Ain’ts and gonnas. You had forgotten how people talked here. Shaking your head, you try to hide your smile by rubbing your lips together but it’s impossible as Mingyu takes another sip of his coffee, letting out a happy sigh. He was almost infectious to be around already. You could understand from just the few minutes of being around him why your brother liked him. “How long have you been working for, Cheol?” 

Oh, so you were going to get right down to it with the questions. Clearing his throat, Mingyu shifts on the chair, going from resting his elbows on his knees so that his back is bent in a curve to sitting up straight, his back against the chair like it was intended to be used. “Uh, well—roundabout three years. He and I met back in school; of course he graduated a couple years before me, but we kept in touch. Then when your dad—when Mr. Choi started to get sick... " Mingyu knew it was a touchy subject; he could see the way your lips turned down at the mention of your father. There was history there that he didn’t know about and that he might never understand, but it made him sad to see your light fade so quickly. “Um, I—yeah, that’s when your brother hired me on. He needed an extra hand.” 

Nodding along with Mingyu as he speaks, you pick up your own cup, taking a sip of coffee as he stumbles through his explanation. You knew why he was timid about it. Everyone was timid when they talked about your father. He had been a strong and resilient man. He had made you and Seungcheol who you both were today, and yet where your brother idolized him, you felt like a disappointment now more than ever. You hadn’t been at his bedside when he took his last breath; that had been Seungcheol. He was the filial son and you were the rebellious daughter. 

“I see. Well, I’m sure they both appreciated having you around. I mean, I’m sure Cheol still appreciates it.” Sighing against the lip of your cup, you furrow your brows, feeling Mingyu’s eyes moving over your face, studying you. “It’s a big ranch for one person to handle. Dad knew that all too well.” 

Mingyu found himself half wondering if you were skipping around what you really wanted to say or if you meant what you were saying, but in the end right now it didn’t matter. You looked sad and it made his chest hurt. “I—yeah. It’s a lotta work. Seungcheol’s got the smarts for it though and I’ve not got any plans on leaving him high and dry anytime soon. The other guys are good ones too. Promise they will help him keep it up.” Furrowing his brows as he watches you nod again, looking down at your coffee resting your arms on your legs, Mingyu considers his words before looking around for anyone else, then back to you. "But—look, I know it ain’t my place, and I don’t know you from Adam, but... if you ever just wanna talk about what’s going on, you know with everything from your side of it... my door’s always open to ya.” 

That was a dangerous thing to offer to someone you barely knew and yet it made your shoulders and brow relax as a smile pulled at your lips. “I must look really shitty for you to offer that, huh?” 

“Wha—no! You look beautifu—I mean, what? I just… You know I’m just—this ain’t comin’ out right.” Mingyu could feel his neck, face, and ears getting hotter; the more he tried to back petal the more words that came out of his mouth. Finally closing his eyes, hearing you laugh under your breath, he sighs and opens one eye slightly to watch you run your fingers along your neck as you shake your head, clearly amused with him. “Words ain’t really my strong point.” 

“That’s obvious, but it’s cute. I’ll think about it.” 

Leaning against the door frame leading out to the patio, Seungcheol narrows his eyes at what is in front of him. It isn’t even just that you and Mingyu are sitting there together sharing coffee; it’s the laughing and how you are talking to him. It was already too flirty for Seungcheol’s liking. Mingyu was a nice guy and gave off a certain vibe from the getgo no matter who he was talking to, but you put him in front of a pretty girl and it’s game over. Seungcheol knew you were pretty. The genes in his family were too good for you not to get attention and God had you over the years and it had caused him headache after headache. This was not a headache he wanted to deal with—not now. 

“What are we thinking about?”

Shifting suddenly to the sound of Seungcheol’s voice, Mingyu clears his throat, taking a bigger sip of the coffee as his eyes follow his best friend on to the patio. You had less of a reaction and looked more annoyed than anything, simply crossing your legs from one side to the other and then crossing your arm over your stomach as you shake your head and sip your coffee. 

“Nothing. Have some coffee, Cheol.” 

It was more than nothing; that was clear from your closed-up body language and Mingyu’s deer in the headlights routine, but Seungcheol wasn’t going to push it when his presence was enough to stop the conversation. “Don’t mind if I do.” Picking up one of the cups, Seungcheol makes a face at the coffee carafe and rolls his eyes as he pours himself a cup, glancing from his task to you and back. “Couldn’t just use a normal ass coffee maker?” 

“Didn’t want just normal ass gross coffee, so no. Why does it matter? I didn’t ask you to make it.” 

It had been a bit awkward just sitting and talking to you, but with both you and Seungcheol here... Mingyu couldn’t help the way his eyes went from one person to the other as you bickered over something as simple as the coffee. 

“Yeah, well… Coffee is coffee, squirt. Right, Gyu?” Scoffing under his breath when Mingyu shakes his head, refusing to take a side, Seungcheol finally takes a sip of the coffee and curses under his breath at how good it is, not willing to tell you out loud. “Whatever, we got shit to today. Need to get Jun and Soonyoung to separate the calves out and let Chan start deworming them.” 

God, you really were home. Making a face, hearing what your brother was asking Mingyu to do, you slip out of your seat, bringing your cup with you before offering to take Mingyu’s empty one. 

“Uh, yeah—oh, thanks, Miss Choi. I could’a got it; yours too in a few minutes.” 

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and sigh loudly, moving past Seungcheol as he smirks at your reaction. Finally, you were tired of the Miss Choi bullshit. 

“Just call me Y/N, and it seems like you all have plenty to do besides washing cups, Mingyu.” 

Your name was pretty and Mingyu couldn’t stop himself from grinning a bit to himself as he nodded along with your words. “I—yeah, busy day, it seems. Thanks, Y/N.” 

“Uh huh, don’t worry about it. Cheol? Is the paperwork in the study?” 

That was Mingyu’s cue to get up and get moving. He could see the look on his friend’s face change at the mention of the paperwork and he didn’t really want to be present for this conversation. Offering you both a quick nod, he glances back towards you one last time before making his way back down towards the barns, leaving you and Seungcheol alone. 

Sighing under the sound of the water running, Seungcheol looks down at the cup in his hands for a few seconds before pushing up from the chair he had sat down on to move into the kitchen with you. He hadn’t forgotten why you were home, but it still didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to get through this process. He knew how it was going to end so to speak, but the end meant his father really was gone and never coming home. He had watched his father take his last breath and he had shed many a tear, but it still never really felt real. Not as real as knowing his name was on all of those papers saying all this responsibility was his now. “Yeah, all in a folder on the desk. I didn’t mess with it after Dad’s attorney handed it off to give it to you. I don’t know what any of it means anyway. You know I’m not the brains.” 

Putting both cups into the dish-drying rack, you listen to Seungcheol moving behind you around the island. You knew he was apprehensive about this part of the process and you also knew that perhaps you should be, but you felt that there was nothing for you inside of that folder anyway. You weren’t the golden child. You were the disappointment. You were doing this for your brother and that was why you would put on a professional face and help him through it. “Why you got me then, huh? I’ll take care of the hard stuff and you can play with the cows and horses.” 

Seungcheol knew that tone of voice and yet he didn’t want to say anything that might scare you away, so instead he just nodded along, offering you a smile as he scratched the back of his head. “Ye—yeah you’re right. I’ll get outta your hair. Gotta help Mingyu and the boys anyway. If you need me for anything, just call my cell, alright?”

Pulling your cardigan around you a bit tighter, you mimic Seungcheol’s smile before nodding in return and watching him head for the patio door, leaving you alone in the house. It had been a long time since you had been inside your childhood home alone.

When you were a kid, you loved this house. It was a sense of pride. You got to live in a big house with your parents and your big brother. There were always animals inside and outside of the house, but then your mother left and you grew up. By the time you were a teenager, the relationship between you and your father was strained. You knew it wasn’t his fault that your mother had chosen to leave, especially when she decided that none of you were worth her time anymore, but you still blamed him. It was easier than blaming her. You reminded him of her. You reminded everyone of her. That was why Seungcheol’s words cut you so deep, even if you pretended that they hadn’t. 

Moving through the house, you look over the pictures on the mantle and sigh to yourself, realizing that it is your fault that the last family portrait was from before you had left for university. Your father had begged you to take one after your graduation, but you had refused—looking back on it now, you could remember the disappointment in his face. 

It was easier for you to refuse and lash out at him or at Seungcheol when you looked back and remembered being told you were wasting your time and energy on going to the city—your family needed you here. What about what you needed? The thought makes your chest feel tight as you clutch your cardigan a bit harder in your hand at your heart, tearing your eyes away from your father’s face in the portrait and feeling them follow you towards the hall. 

The inside of your father’s study—Seungcheol’s study—was just as it had always been. Dark wood, rich leather, and books lining numerous bookshelves and end tables around the room, not to mention the large desk in front of the window. The desk—your father’s desk—looked the same that it always had with papers covering it, pens not put back in the organizer right in front of where they lay, but the main difference was the large dark brown legal envelope in the center. 

You had a good idea of what all was inside that envelope. This wouldn’t be the first time that you had assisted someone in the estate administration process, but this was the first time you were doing it for your family. You had told yourself it would be easy. Inside that envelope you’d find the will, a few debts that would possibly need to be settled, possibly medical in nature—that was common—and then all the deeds and paperwork that had been collected for everything that your father had. It should be simple. Seungcheol’s name should already be listed as co-owner or signer of 90% of the paperwork and he would be named the executor, giving him assets and ownership of the rest. All you would need to do was make sure the I’s were dotted and the T’s were crossed. 

Sliding into the leather chair behind the desk, you tense up to the feeling—how small you feel in your father’s chair and behind his desk—before trying to push that away and reach for the envelope, undoing the string keeping it tightly closed. This would be easier if you put away your personal feelings and regrets, allowing you to focus on what was in front of you. That would be how you could get this done quickly and get back to your own life—whatever it is that you do. 

The air felt thicker around you as you cleared off a place on the desk before carefully removing the paperwork from the envelope and laying it in a neat stack in front of you. The top was just a letter from your father’s attorney—nothing unexpected, a sympathy note really and nothing more, but it was what was next that made you feel like the walls were closing in around you. 

I hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint Choi Y/N as executor of my will and estate. 

It would be fine. A bit more work than you had anticipated. You would have to stay for a bit longer than you thought, but—

I bequeath unto the persons named below, if he or she survives me by 30 (thirty) days, all of my property, assets, and belongings: 

Name:Choi Seungcheol 

Relationship: Son  

Name: Choi Y/N

Relationship: Daughter

Attempting to take a deep breath, you fail as your eyes continue to scan your father’s will, feeling your heart in your throat. 

Special Requests 

I direct that on my death my remains shall be cremated and all cremation expenses shall be paid out of my estate. Any and all debts shall be paid out of my estate. Any and all other property, real estate, assets, and belongings will be owned and split equally by my children as my executor sees fit. 

Placing the will back on top of the stack of papers, you rest your head in your hands, feeling anxiety pulsing from your head to your toes. He put everything on you and while Seungcheol was in fact getting everything, so were you. This wasn’t as easy as handing your brother the keys to the palace, so to speak, and taking your small percentage; this would take cooperation and time to sort through. 

“Oh fuck—” One last cruel joke from your father, or at least that’s how it felt at the moment as you lean your head back, glancing towards the bar cart under the window facing out towards the back of the ranch. 

You needed a drink; it wasn’t even 9 am and you were already on your feet, pouring yourself a glass of your father’s 30-year-old whiskey that you had never been allowed to touch. Letting out a breath into the glass, you look out at Seungcheol leaning over the gate as he talks to the ranch hands as they work calves through the cattle chute one at a time. It was almost amusing now, feeling the warm liquor coating your throat as you thought back to the papers that changed your life and his, as he went about his day with no idea as to what you had just found out. 

Glancing towards the house, Mingyu furrows his brows, hearing Seungcheol raise his voice for probably the fifth time in the last half hour. It had just started to get dark and they were making their way through the last of the chores for the day when the fussing had started. 

This wasn’t something that he or the other boys on the ranch were used to. Every once in a while, Seungcheol and his dad would get into a bit of a quarrel but nothing like this. This sounded personal and there had been a couple of times when your voice had reached a peak that Mingyu wondered if he should intervene, only to get a sharp look from Jun reminding him that this was family business and as much as they might all feel like it, none of them were really family. 

“Yeah? Well, fuck you, Y/N. I’ll do what I want. This is bullshit…” 

Leaning his head down towards the gate as he pushes it closed, Mingyu sighs loudly, looking towards the house again, knowing this time he wasn’t the only one doing it. Seungcheol was on the patio now, a cigarette between his lips as he muttered under his breath, his brows knitted together tightly. For as long as Mingyu had known Seungcheol, he rarely smoked. This had to be bad if he was stressed enough to pull out a new pack of cigarettes and start pacing. 

“Maybe I shou—” 

“Should what? Get yelled at because you stick your nose in some shit that don’t concern any of us?” While his words were sharp, Jun’s eyes said something else. He was concerned and he didn’t want Mingyu’s big heart to cause him to be the punching bag. “If Cheol wants to talk to us about it, he’ll find us. Come on, it’s time for dinner anyhow and you said you’d cook.” 

That brought a bit of a smile to Mingyu’s face, but one more look back towards the house and seeing you standing in the window of the living room wiping tears from your cheeks made his feet feel like they were stuck in concrete. 

“Gyu! Come on! Move your ass.” 

God what Mingyu would do to fix this. He wasn’t even sure how or what was the real problem, but he hated this. Hanging his hat up next to the door in the house that the three ranch hands called their temporary home, Mingyu lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding when the door shuts behind him. He had spent many a summer inside this house with other ranch hands; there were plenty of fond and less than fond memories hidden in the walls. 

“What you think they’re bitchin’ ‘bout anyways? I don’t think I’ve seen Cheol that wound up in a while.” 

Sitting down at the table in the middle of the room, Soonyoung yawns into his words, starting to put his feet up on the table when Jun pushes them back into the floor, pulling the chair out next to him to sit down, his eyes following Mingyu as he opens the fridge. “None of our business, but seeing as how it involves his sister... I’d say it’s ‘bout Mr. Choi’s stuff. Just going out on a limb.” 

Wasn’t much of a limb to go out on now that Mingyu thought about it; Jun was probably right. Furrowing his brow tightly in thought, Mingyu uses the toe of his shoe to open the cabinet next to the fridge. Putting the ingredients in his hands down on the countertop, he leans to take out the pots and pans he would need for dinner as he listens to the boys talk behind him. 

“She’s pretty enough, and I mean damn pretty, but Seungcheol didn’t need more headache.” Lifting his hands from the table, Chan tries to keep the peace, seeing the looks from not only Jun and Soonyoung but also the sudden glance over the shoulder from Mingyu. “No, wait—hear me out, alright. The old man was always saying something or another about how Y/N wasn’t doing this or that—she wouldn’t come home for Thanksgiving or he was having to pay for tuition again—” 

“And? He was proud as fuck that she graduated from that school, Chan, and you know it. He wouldn’t stop telling everybody who’d listen that his daughter was a fancy lawyer now.” Scoffing as he drops the hamburger meat into the bottom of the pot, Mingyu clicks his tongue against his teeth, trying to keep himself from getting too riled up in your defense. There was no reason for him to feel so protective of you and yet he couldn’t help it. He had seen that look in your eye this morning and then again at the window. “Jun’s right, ain’t none of this our fuckin’ business.” 

You had expected Seungcheol to react poorly to your father’s will, but you hadn’t expected him to explode the way he had. The look on his face was almost one of betrayal when he read the words on the page before tossing it down on the desk, muttering that it was bullshit over and over again before finally meeting your eyes. 

“Look… Cheol, I know it’s not ideal—” 

“The fuck, like you know a damn thing, Y/N. You think you know everything. That’s your fuckin’ problem.” 

You had started to follow your brother out of the room, but his words had frozen you in place momentarily. It had been a long time since he had spoken to you like this. You were used to the Seungcheol that had greeted you the day prior. You were used to fake pleasantries and brief moments of time when you wished that it could be a real relationship between the two of you—but this was real. 

“That’s not fair.” Shaking your head, your voice quiet at first, you push your hands off the desk and manage to follow behind Seungcheol, speaking louder this time. “That’s not fucking fair, Seungcheol! You don’t get to—” 

“Fuck off. No, seriously, Y/N. Fuck you!” Seungcheol could see how you recoiled at his words; deep down he knew that you were right; he wasn’t being fair, but all he could truly see was red, and all he could feel right now was pain. “You didn’t do anything to help him. You didn’t even give a shit when he got sick. You didn’t come home or even call! It’s not about what he’s—fuck!” Punching the wall next to him, Seungcheol closes his eyes to keep back his tears even as he hears you yelp in surprise before he continues. “You weren’t even fucking here when he died, Y/N. You are that goddamn selfish, and you still get everything you want.” 

Swallowing hard, you blink through your tears as you bite on your lips, listening to Seungcheol even though you want to scream at him and tell him to stop. Even though there was truth to what he was saying, there was so much more that he didn’t know or understand. Taking a step closer to him, you hold your cardigan tightly in your fist against your chest before gathering your courage to speak up. “Ples—Cheol, please stop. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t tell him to write it out like that. It’s not like I didn’t want to be here when he—” 

Not letting you finish what you were going to say once again, Seungcheol slaps the wall next to where his fist had made contact, watching you jump in place. “No. You don’t get to cry and give me that look, then expect me to just believe whatever bullshit comes out of your mouth.” 

Whining, you move closer to Seungcheol, getting frustrated when he turns his back to you, walking towards the kitchen, opening the cabinet to take out a new pack of cigarettes. “You gotta be kidding me! Don’t smoke, Cheol. You said you stopped. This isn’t worth that.” 

Scoffing under his breath as he angrily pulls the plastic from around the outside of the cigarettes, Seungcheol rolls his eyes at you, barely giving you a second glance as he pulls open the patio door, his voice full of malice. “Yeah? Well, fuck you, Y/N. I’ll do what I want. This is bullshit…” 

It had been over a year since Seungcheol had smoked a cigarette and he really hadn’t had any intention of ever picking another one up, but then you had walked right back into his life and set it on fire so what was a little lung damage compared to that? He hated this part of his and your relationship. He was supposed to be your big brother, your protector. You were supposed to be his sweet little sister who looked to him for everything, and yet none of that was true for either of you. 

Looking out over the fields and towards the smaller house just a stone's throw from the main house, Seungcheol sighs, letting out a deep breath of smoke from his lungs, watching Mingyu take up the rear as the rest of the ranch hands head in for the evening. How much had they heard? It wasn’t like he had been subtle; hell, neither had you, but still, Seungcheol hated the idea that the boys might think differently of him because of this. 

You felt like your heart was trying to beat out of your chest with every deep breath you took in an attempt to calm yourself down as you stood in front of the large window overlooking the back of the house. It had been a long time since anyone had made you feel as shitty as you did in that moment. Seungcheol had managed to tear you down completely when he was supposed to be the one protecting you. Still, you knew that this wasn’t him—not really. He was angry and hurt, and you were the punching bag. You were just tired of being the punching bag. 

Wiping the tears from your face, you look away when Mingyu’s eye catches yours as he follows behind the rest of the ranch hands. God, this was devastating. Not only had you had one of the most brutal fights with your brother in your entire life, but now you were crying like a baby for Mingyu to see. It shouldn’t matter. 

You didn’t matter to him or anyone here. That was obvious. It didn’t matter how much things had changed or what had been said between yourself and your father; you had never meant for any of this to happen. Would any of this be worth it if it lost you what you had left of your family in the end? 

Mingyu was usually the first person to wake up on the ranch, and he was usually the last to head to bed. He never minded it, and there was usually something that needed to be done that someone had forgotten to do. Tonight wasn’t the exception. 

Sighing as he wraps the rope around his hand to his elbow, Mingyu rocks his head from left to right, trying to release some of the tension from his neck. It had been a long day, and not even the quiet peeps from the frogs in the creek nor the bright stars in the sky were keeping his mind from what he had heard earlier in the night. 

“Knew I’d find you here…” 

The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s voice is almost enough to cause Mingyu to drop the rope from his grasp. Turning around from the barn door to look at the other man, he moves through the smaller mudroom entrance closer to the main house. “I—yeah, well.” Lifting the lead rope on his arm, Mingyu laughs under his breath before gesturing with his head down at the gear that Chan had forgotten to put up after riding out to check on the cattle further out on the property. “He means well; he just gets lost in his head.” 

Picking up the bit and headstall that had been used, Seungcheol smiles, moving to put them away as he nods. “It’s alright. I—listen. I wanted to talk about earlier.” 

The night air was alright, a bit warm, but with Seungcheol’s words, Mingyu felt it get thick and muggy with his nerves. “Oh? Earlier? Like the calves?” 

Seungcheol knew that Mingyu would pretend like he hadn’t heard the argument, and while he appreciated the act of normalcy, he also didn’t need that as much as he needed to talk to his friend. “No, and you know it. I’m sorry ‘bout all the yellin’ that you and the boys heard. Just—it’s just some shit—fuck... I know you aren’t involved in this, but, Gyu, I’m drownin’.” 

Swallowing hard at Seungcheol’s words, his confession on how he feels, Mingyu’s lips turn down as he hears his best friend’s voice shake. Seungcheol had always been strong. He had been raised by a tough-as-nails man, and he was a mirror image, but right now he was more fragile than Mingyu had ever seen him. “Hey, Cheol… Man, I’m here. I’ll listen; don’t matter if I’m involved or not.” 

Mingyu watches as Seungcheol moves to lean against the workbench, his hands wringing together out of nerves as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. He had known Seungcheol long enough to know when he was holding back, and despite telling Mingyu that he needed help, he was still having a hard time going through with it. “Ju—just start from the beginnin’, maybe?” 

And so Seungcheol did—from the point when his father had first gotten sick to the argument that everyone had heard bits and pieces of. Though it was just from his side, Seungcheol felt like he was being fair and thorough, explaining how you had, in his eyes, abandoned him and your father to do something so meaningless. Lowering his head, Mingyu nods along, only offering small encouraging words to keep Seungcheol moving along with his words, but he never adds his own opinion, just an open mind and a friendly ear. It’s only when things are quiet for a good minute that he sighs, lifting his hand to wipe at his mouth, trying to formulate his words in the right way and order. 

“Can I play devil’s advocate and you not rip my head off?” 

Scoffing at Mingyu’s words, Seungcheol lifts his hands for him to continue, willing to hear anything. You weren’t talking to him now, not that Seungcheol was sure he wanted to talk to you. There was just a lot of doors slamming and remembering what it was like when you were a teenager at home. 

It was clear that Seungcheol wanted one thing, but Mingyu wasn’t just his friend. There were friends who would tell you exactly what you wanted to hear and stroke your ego, and then there were the ones who would take a bullet for you. Those friends were there to stay and it didn’t matter if they agreed with every single word you said or every thought in your head—they were family. 

“Hear her out. Don’t sound like you did much of that.” Hearing Seungcheol take a sharp breath out of anger, Mingyu tilts his head and lifts his own hands, showing he doesn’t want to fight. “You were both raised strong-willed. You and your dad wanted her back here; now she’s here. She’s clearly smart as hell if she understand the words on that paperwork and I swear, Cheol…” Not meeting Seungcheol’s eyes this time, Mingyu scoffs under his breath into his words. “I just don’t think she’s here to fuck with you over this. You’ve whined for months… hell, years about wanting her home and she’s here. Don’t push her out the damn door on day two.” 

Taking a deep breath, Seungcheol looks away from Mingyu completely and towards the house through the open door, seeing the lights still on. You hadn’t told him what you were doing, but you had slammed your bedroom door after seeing him in the hall about an hour ago, so he had figured you were going to bed. While he didn’t agree with what Mingyu was saying, and you had pissed him off in more ways than one, Seungcheol also didn’t want this to ruin what little relationship the two of you had left. “Yeah, I—shit, I know. Just fuckin’ sucks, man. She just—she gets under my skin and just knows—” 

The look on Mingyu’s face was enough to get Seungcheol to take another breath and to stop himself from continuing. He was doing it again. He could feel the pressure rising in his chest and his fists were tight at his sides. “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t know why she pisses me off so much.” Laughing on a breath out, he shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “Nah, you know what, I do. She’s this perfect little princess who hasn’t had to work a hard day in her goddamn life. Dad gave her whatever she wanted when he was here and he’s still doing it. She’s never respected him as much as I have.” 

“That’s how you see it, Cheol.” Mingyu knew it was bold to speak up when Seungcheol looked like he wanted to put his fist through something and that something might end up being him, but he was spiraling again. “Listen, your dad and I talked some when you weren’t around, right? He talked a lot about you both. ‘Bout how proud he was of both of y’all. Proud of you and proud of Y/N.” 

Mingyu waits for Seungcheol’s brows to soften before he continues, reaching over to pat his shoulder, a smile pulling at his lips. “Said you were a hell of a good man, and you are. Knew you’d take care of this ranch. But he talked a lot ‘bout her too. ‘Bout all the shit she was doing and how she was so smart and how he knew she didn’t get it from him or some shit like that. Just sayin’ cut her some slack?” 

Swallowing hard, Seungcheol pushes his thumb against his palm as his brows knit together listening to what Mingyu has to say. He wasn’t wrong. He had heard his father say much of the same, even if he didn’t want to remember it. His father had gotten more sentimental near the end, talking about you and him more—about the good times, when you both were young. He’d bring up childhood memories and then suddenly talk about your college graduation and how much pride he had that day. Seungcheol had that pride too. You looked like a million bucks walking across that stage with all those fancy honor cords draped around your neck. 

“Yeah—yeah, you’re right, Gyu. He wouldn’t want me acting like this. He’d be pissed off at me for—” Groaning under his breath, feeling pressure behind his eyes as his father floods his memories, Seungcheol can almost hear his voice in his head. It’s almost too much and the tears sit right on the rims of his eyes as he leans his head back to stop them from falling. “He’d hate that I made her cry so fuckin’ much today. I—I’ll fix it.” 

Staring at your bedroom door, you bite at your thumbnail, dreading the idea of going out of the safety of your room and into the house where Seungcheol might be. You knew you were being childish, but you were still angry with him, and your head and chest hurt just remembering him screaming at you the day before. It wasn’t like you blamed him completely. You had yelled back a few times, but nothing like he had. It was serious for him and you were just defending yourself—Seungcheol had gone for blood and struck gold. 

The house seemed quiet. Seungcheol’s door was open, his bed was made, but you could smell food drawing you closer towards the kitchen. Bracing yourself to see your brother, you wince then stop in your tracks when you see someone else at the stove, his back to you. “Mingyu? Wh—what are you doing in here?” 

Mingyu had hoped to have food done and ready for you to eat by the time you woke up, but you had beaten him to the punch. Letting out a soft, surprised sound under his breath, he glances at you over his shoulder, noticing how you wrap your cardigan around you a bit tighter. It was the same one you had on yesterday—must be your favorite. Turning his attention back to the pan in front of him, he sighs into his words, carefully turning the omelette, making sure he doesn’t break the surface of the eggs. “Uh, Cheol—Cheol went into town this mornin’, and he asked if I might make you somethin’ to eat. He wanted to make sure you had somethin’ more than coffee and a protein bar.” 

Scoffing under your breath, you move towards the island, pulling out one of the barstools and sitting with a huff. “Like he cares…” The moment the words leave your lips, you feel bad for saying them. Mingyu’s brows knit together slightly and you shake your head, muttering an apology as you pick at your cardigan sleeve, seeing him move out of the corner of your eye. 

“Don’t gotta apologize to me. Hell, you ain’t even gotta apologize to him. Truth is he knows he fucked up. We talked about it last night.” Taking a plate from the cabinet, Mingyu turns towards the island, giving you a once-over before he slides the omelette onto the plate and pushes it towards you. “Eat up. You want coffee or juice. ‘Fraid I don’t know how to make your fancy coffee.” 

You can’t stop the way your lips pull up at the corners when Mingyu turns back towards the stove, cracking a couple more eggs into the pan. The gentle sizzle makes you feel warmer, just like his voice, as you pick up the fork left next to your plate and examine the food in front of you. “Juice is fine, but what do you mean, you and Cheol talked about it last night? You two talked about our—” Unsure how to phrase your next words, you stop short and furrow your brows, causing Mingyu to glance back at you and nod. 

“Your squabble, yeah.” Leaving the spatula in the pan, Mingyu opens the fridge, taking out the pitcher of orange juice as he feels your eyes following him every step of the way. “Know it’s not much my business, but I think Cheol was lookin’ for an outside perspective. He just—well, you know how he is. He gets caught up on the bigger picture and doesn’t stop to think about what he’s sayin’ and how it sounds.” Meeting your eyes as he tips the pitcher towards the glass in front of your plate, Mingyu watches how your lips turn down in a frown. He hates that look on your face. You’re too damn pretty to be so sad and tense. All he can think about is how much he wants to fix it. 

“And yet he couldn’t say any of this to me himself.” 

Tilting his head once your glass is almost full of juice, Mingyu smirks a bit to himself and your words before turning back towards the stove and his eggs. “My fault, I suppose. Told him to let you cool off. Figured you could use a moment without seeing each other after some of the shit I heard ya’ll yelling back and forth at each other yesterday.” 

You watch as Mingyu cuts the stove off and picks up a fork, turning to lean against the countertop as he eats the eggs he’s cooked straight out of the pan. It was so different from what he had made you and how he had presented it to you. Shaking your head, you cut off another bite of your omelette, sighing as you chew, your eyes meeting Mingyu’s even as he gives you that stupidly attractive half smirk while eating his eggs. “Yeah, whatever. Probably for the best, you’re right. I have so much to do today anyway and I’d rather not fight with Seungcheol. Makes me feel sick to my stomach.” 

Mingyu nods, taking the last bite of his food before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Mmhm, what all you gotta do? Anything me or the boys can help with to ease your mind?” 

Smiling, you shake your head, pushing around the last bits of your food as Mingyu works to clean up, splitting his attention with you and the task in front of him. He was almost too good to be true, but your brother’s words echo in your mind. ‘Leave him alone; he isn’t used to girls like you.’ You clear your throat then swallow hard. “Uh… Nope. I’ll be just fine on my own. What I’m used to.” Pushing your plate towards Mingyu, you fake your smile this time and sigh into your words as you slide off the stool. “Thanks for the breakfast, Mingyu.” 

Feeling the shift in your mood, Mingyu just nods, taking your plate as he watches you move back through the house towards your bedroom and hearing your door shut. Had he said something wrong? Did you not like the breakfast? You were an enigma that he just couldn’t solve and it was driving him insane. One minute you were smiling, almost flirting with him and the next you were giving him the cold shoulder. “Don’t make a lick of sense…” 

It was only 9am and Seungcheol was already exhausted from running the errands that Mingyu had given him. Sighing loudly, he moves through the living room, dropping the shopping bags on the couch before making his way into the kitchen, hearing Mingyu muttering to himself. “The hell you mumblin’ to yourself about?” You weren’t there and there wasn’t any breakfast left; maybe you hadn’t been up yet, or maybe you had already come and gone. Seungcheol hoped for the latter. Glancing back towards the hallway and your room, he furrows his brows and huffs out a breath before looking back towards Mingyu. “Is—did Y/N eat somethin’?” 

Tossing the towel he had been using to dry the dishes over his shoulder, Mingyu leans against the island and nods a few times, looking in the direction of your room. “Nothin’ important. And she did. Made her an omelette. She ate most of it and said she had stuff to do. She wasn’t much for talkin’. I—you think she’s—maybe she just don’t like me much?” 

Seungcheol knew that wasn’t the case. If anything, you probably liked Mingyu too much, or at least you liked looking at him too much, but that wasn’t any of his business. Shaking his head, he rolls his eyes and shrugs. “She don’t like much of nothin’ round here, Gyu. What I’ve been tellin’ you. Don’t get attached. I’m gonna smooth things over, but you know she ain’t stayin’ anyhow. She’s got her job back east and she’s too good for us and this place.” 

Maybe Seungcheol was right. Hell, Mingyu knew he was. You were way too good for him. You talked nice and used words he didn’t understand. You drank fancy things and probably ate even better things. You had expensive clothes and bags—you didn’t want some man covered in mud to cheapen your brand. “Yeah—yeah, maybe you’re right. I’mma get outside and get the boys started on shit. Yoller if you need me.” 

“It’s an inventory of assets and property, Seungcheol. I’m not calling you or Daddy a liar. I don’t know why you’d even—”  Sighing, you close your eyes, feeling your blood pressure rising as you tighten your hands around the iPad in your hands. Things had been going better. Seungcheol had apologized for being an asshole and you had done the same, but then you had started trying to check off one thing from your to-do list and he saw red. 

“I’m not callin’ you a fuckin’ liar, Y/N! Why do you always jump to conclusions? I’m just askin’ why you gotta go through all of his shit! It’s—Sis! I don’t want anyone moving it around. Not even you! I ain’t ready!” 

You could see the panic dripping off of your brother as he paced in the middle of your father’s office, his voice an octave higher than usual. The veins in his neck were visible and you could almost see his heartbeat through them with each step he took. All you had done was take the items from your father’s desk and organize them into piles so you could inventory them properly, and Seungcheol had begun to spiral. 

“Cheollie… You gotta calm down.” Reaching out to take his hand in yours, you feel him start to jerk away before he meets your eyes, seeing the compassion you have for him in your gaze. “Please? Come on… I won’t move anything else. I’ll inventory it without touching it, I swear. But you gotta—Cheollie, look at me.” When Seungcheol’s eyes dart away from you and back to the piles of papers and supplies on the floor, you hold your iPad under your arm and use your free hand to turn his face back towards you to keep his attention. “You gotta trust me.” 

Seungcheol swallows hard, feeling his heartbeats in every inch of his body as the panic attack that had started to take over him begins to subside with your help. He watches you take a deep breath and mimics you, earning a smile from you at his effort. Anxiety had always been a difficult topic for Seungcheol, but the day that your mother had left was the day that he had experienced his first full-blown panic attack. There was little that could calm him down—medicine, therapy, smoking. None of his vices helped as much as watching you take a deep breath and following along. That was why it hurt so much when you left him. You had taken away his safety net, though Seungcheol doubted you knew that. 

“There you go. Better?” 

Nodding, Seungcheol closes his eyes and leans against your palm, willing his tears back. He had missed you so much but he wasn’t willing to tell you that or to beg you not to leave home again. He had spent so much time pushing you away in order to make it easier to live without you for his sake and for your father’s sake. Having you home now was a temptation of something Seungcheol knew he could never have. His family died with his father. You were temporary and in passing. A brief moment of comfort, but in this exact moment Seungcheol wished he hated you more because as you moved to hug him, his heart ached. 

“Good. I love you, Cheollie, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Keeping you close so that you can’t see the tears on his cheeks, Seungcheol sighs softly and shakes his head. “It’s alright, Squirt. I love you too. I’m sorry I got so worked up. I gotta back off and let you get this shit done.” 

It had been a week since you had started going through the paperwork for your father’s estate. Most of the inventory of property had been completed within the main house and you had been able to speed your way through the smaller barns within a day. It was today that you found yourself standing in front of the main barn and one of the largest tasks on your list. 

Sighing to yourself, you whine under your breath and wrinkle your nose at the smell of manure. You knew that inside of this barn there were several stalls where your father—now Seungcheol—kept horses. You remembered a time when you were younger when you loved coming to this particular barn and to your own horse, but those days were long gone. 

Sidestepping a pile of manure, you grimace and push your sunglasses up your nose before pushing open one of the smaller doors to the barn, getting hit with a strong scent of hay and horse. You were thankful that this was your father’s ranch. This barn in particular was temperature controlled, so unlike the heat that was assaulting you outside, you feel relief even as chill bumps spread along your skin from the change in temperature. 

Just like the inside of the house, not much had changed in the barn either. Seungcheol was afraid of change and you could see where things that your father had hung during your childhood remained to this day. If you were honest, there were things that could use updates, if anything repairs, but after the conversation the two of you had just days before, you weren’t in any rush to have it again. 

Mingyu had sent off the rest of the boys to do various things around the property. Jun was repairing a fence with Chan out by the road while Soonyoung was working with a stallion that had been delivered earlier in the morning. For him it had been a quiet day and that was rare. Seungcheol was taking care of things on the business side and that left normal chores for him. Mingyu never minded the mundane tasks. They gave him time to think and get lost in those thoughts. He hadn’t noticed you were in the barn until he heard muttering to yourself, looking around and then down at your iPad in your hands. Clearly you didn’t realize he was there; you were lost in your own thoughts. 

For a few minutes, Mingyu just watched you with a small smile on his face. You were beautiful, and when you were concentrating, you got this cute little scowl on your face. Mingyu could remember your father doing the same thing—muttering to himself and scowling; Seungcheol did it too. When the sound of the horse that Mingyu's brushing blows out its breath makes you look in his direction, he lowers his eyes and grins to himself. “Didn’t wanna bother you. You looked awful interested in whatever it is you’re lookin’ at.” 

Heat spreads across your cheeks as you clear your throat, realizing you hadn’t been alone in the barn. Mingyu had been so quiet. You had thought that everyone was gone, at least somewhere else on the ranch, but clearly you had been wrong. “Sorry, I just—I’m working on stuff for the estate. I’m not trying to be in your way.” 

“Ain’t in my way. Just cleanin’ stalls and takin’ care of the girls.” Glancing around the barn and then back to you, Mingyu smirks a bit to himself as he runs the brush along the side of the horse. “What sorta stuff you gotta do in here? If you don’t mind me askin’?” 

Laughing under your breath moving closer to Mingyu, you lift one hand to run your fingers along the horse’s forehead and down her muzzle as she nudges towards you. “Uh, just like an inventory of the estate and the barns is part of it. I have to make, like, a basic outline for the bank and their attorneys so that they can sign off on it all.” 

Mingyu nods along, even if most of what you’re saying goes over his head. It wasn’t so much that the words didn’t make sense, but the reasoning behind it was beyond him. “Uh huh, sure. Lotta red tape they are making you and Cheol jump through for something your dad already left y’all.” 

He wasn’t wrong, but you were used to this. You had done this for others, so doing it for yourself—for your family—wasn’t anything new. “Yeah, they like to, uh—when there is a certain amount of money or property involved, the bank likes to “hold on to it” for as long as they can. Make sure their investment is passed to heirs properly.” Rolling your eyes, you scratch the horse's muzzle once more before meeting Mingyu’s eyes and shrugging. “Not that it’s even theirs now. They just like to pretend for a little bit. I’ll get all this to them by the end of the week, hopefully, and it’ll be settled.” 

It was nice seeing you like this. You seemed more relaxed than the last time that Mingyu had seen you and you weren’t actively avoiding him. Glancing around the barn with you, he grins to himself, stepping away from the horse and heading towards you with his cleaning supplies in hand. “‘Scuse me. I don’t wanna get any of this mess on you. You need to take note of these too?” 

Stepping back out of Mingyu’s way, you shake your head at his antics as he leans his broom against the wall before leaning back into the stall to grab the rest of his stuff. “I mean—yeah, I have to take note of it all no matter how insignificant it might seem.” 

“Well, this here is a manure fork and that’s a broom…” 

“I know what they are, Mingyu. I’m not stupid.” 

Furrowing your brows, you meet Mingyu’s eyes as he opens his mouth in surprise at your accusation. Lifting his hands, he laughs and shakes his head before reaching back in the stall one more time for his bucket of brushes. “Hey now… I never said that. Don’t be puttin’ words in my mouth, missy. I just figured you wouldn’t know what they were based on how you’re a city gal and all. I’m tryin’ to be helpful.” 

Before you even realize what look you are giving him, Mingyu laughs again seeing the contempt in your eyes. “What? Why you lookin’ at me like that? Like I kicked your puppy. You ain’t even got one, do ya?” 

“No… But you are digging yourself a hole, Kim Mingyu. Are you forgetting that I literally grew up here?” Gesturing to the ground you are standing on, you lift your brows, trying to get your point across. “On this ranch. My daddy was your boss and now my brother. Who the hell do you think I am?” 

He knew you were trying to sound mad and that maybe he should back off, not get his fingers bit, but you were just too cute. “A damn spitfire is what you are. Hell, woman… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring out the claws, but can’t lie and say I didn’t like it a little bit.” Winking at you as he moves into the next stall, Mingyu puts down the bucket and pats the horse's side as she stomps the ground clearly aggravated with the tension. “Shh, everything’s fine, Lucy. That’s a good girl.”

You were frustrated, but as you kept your eyes on Mingyu and listened to him with the horse, you felt yourself starting to calm down. Your blood had stopped boiling and you had to remind yourself that you were the one in the family who was better at controlling their emotions. “You’re nicer to the horse than you are to me.” 

Having moved the rest of his supplies into the stall, Mingyu smirks at your accusation, lifting his head to meet your eyes for a moment before picking up the manure fork getting to work. “Yeah? I don’t think that’s true. I think I’m pretty nice in general. Don’t you agree, Luce?” Feeling the horse knock into him, Mingyu glances up towards her and laughs under his breath. “Don’t go takin’ her side just ‘cause she’s pretty, now. Thought you was my girl?” 

You had to admit Mingyu was adorable as he talked to Lucy and worked. Leaning your arms on the stall door, you rest your chin on your arm and smile at the interaction, finding it and him endearing. “I’m pretty, but Lucy the horse is your girl?” Keeping your iPad in one hand, you reach out, letting Lucy nuzzle against your free hand as Mingyu stands to his full height with a laughing sigh. 

“Is that judgment I hear in your voice, Miss Choi? Two things can be true at the same time.” Lifting his hand to gesture at you, Mingyu bites his bottom lip quickly, getting back to work, not seeing your reaction and how you have to look away from him, feeling your stomach tighten. The same thing had happened when he had praised the horse. He wasn’t even praising you and yet you were affected by it. 

“Well, it seems like ‘your girl’ likes me.” 

That was something that Mingyu had already noticed. The horses were drawn to you, much like he was and everyone else around you that gave you a chance. You were magnetic. “Yeah, she’s a good judge of character. Seems like you might just be a country girl after all.” 

Scoffing, you tilt your head, seeing how Mingyu smiles up at you. Moving away from the door, you find a safe place for your iPad before making your way back over and into the stall. It had been a long time since you had tried to do any of this—taking care of a horse or cleaning up after one—but you weren’t someone who backed down from a challenge. Carefully sliding your hand along Lucy’s shoulder to her flank, you put your hand out towards Mingyu, finding his brows raised for a moment before he finally puts one of the brushes in your hand. 

“You—I mean, go with…never mind, you know what you’re doing, clearly.” Mingyu had wanted to help you, teach you how to use the brush, but the moment you had it in your hand, it was as if you had done this a thousand times. That’s when it dawned on Mingyu; you probably had. You had said it yourself; you were raised here. You probably had horses of your own at one point or another, and despite the way you looked, talked, or acted now, this was in your blood. 

“Yeah, Daddy taught me how to take care of horses when I asked for one of my own when I was little. He said I’d need to know how to do this first. If I was going to be big enough to have one, I had to be big enough to take care of one.” Leaning your head back away from the dust coming from Lucy as you brush her, you think briefly about the clothes you are wearing and how they aren’t made for this situation before shrugging to yourself and stepping closer to continue your task. Clothes could be washed. Nothing couldn’t be replaced. “I used to love doing this. It was calming. Just me and Bella for an hour or so…” 

Bella. Smiling as he leans on the broom, almost forgetting what he is supposed to be doing, Mingyu has to force himself not to fixate on you for too long. He could get lost in you and what you were saying. He liked learning about you and more than just the lawyer version of you. There was stuff that was buried deeper that he wanted to pull out of you and learn about if you’d let him. “So you used to ride? You still know how?” 

Shaking your head, you meet Mingyu’s eyes as he finally goes back to sweeping. You weren’t sure anyone forgot how to ride a horse once they learned, but then again you had never really learned how; you were just put on a horse and took off. The same had been true about Seungcheol. Your dad had told you both that you were born to be on a ranch. As you got older, you grew to resent that statement, but when you were little, you remembered having so much pride over it as you’d lace your fingers into Bella’s mane and ride through the fields. You had been so rebellious even then, choosing to ride bareback, hearing Seungcheol racing behind you, telling you that you were going to fall off, but you never did. 

“Of course I do. I haven’t in a really long time, but it’s—I don’t think I could forget that.” 

There was something about how you spoke when you answered his question that made Mingyu curious and eager. Glancing towards the open window, he sighs under his breath and purses his lips. This was probably a bad idea, but life was full of decisions and Mingyu was tired of seeing his life pass by without taking any chances—especially when you were involved. “Yo—you wanna go for a ride with me?” 

Seungcheol had gotten back from town and the house was quiet. He figured that you were still working on estate paperwork somewhere on the property, but it was starting to get later in the afternoon. You were pushing yourself when it came to this and he knew it was his fault. He knew that you were trying to get as much done as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t be stressed out, and by doing that, you were stressing yourself out. Seungcheol felt horrible about that, but he still felt a sense of relief that you were going about things the way you were. Things had been left where they belonged for now. 

Moving through the house towards the kitchen and the large doors leading towards the patio, Seungcheol stretches and yawns only for the sound to get caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. Furrowing his brows, he lowers his arms and moves out onto the large patio, following the two horses heading out from the barn towards the fence line. You and Mingyu. 

Seungcheol’s first thought is how nice it is to see you riding again. It had been years since he had even seen you near a horse, let alone riding one, but this wasn’t the way he wanted that to happen. You were out with Mingyu and that didn’t sit well with Seungcheol. It could be innocent, but knowing you and knowing Mingyu, it wasn’t. There was something too close about it all that made Seungcheol’s ‘brother’ instincts go on high alert. 

He knew that he could easily get on one of the 4 wheelers and head out after the two of you—see what you were up to and tell you to get your ass back to the house. He could saddle up his own horse and go about it that way… But instead, Seungcheol stuck his tongue against his cheek and scowled at the two of you heading towards the trees before turning back towards the house. You’d have to come home at some point. 

The ride with Mingyu was quiet for the most part. You enjoyed the peaceful, easy silence as the warm afternoon air gently moved past you. This was nice. There was no rush to be anywhere. No sounds of traffic or yelling like you had gotten used to in New York. It didn’t matter where you were in the city; there were always sirens and cars honking horns. You could always hear someone screaming at someone else. Out here there were just the sounds of the birds, peep frogs starting to come out, and crickets chirping. 

Mingyu liked happy on you. You had seemed so uptight since you had gotten to Montana. At first he thought that was just your personality but it quickly became apparent that that was how you had been living. He wasn’t used to that. Out here you lived with nature, not against it. Nature was calm for the most part and it didn’t rush you or expect you to do anything you couldn’t. Now that you were finally giving in to that way of living again, Mingyu could almost see the stress starting to slide off of you. 

“There’s a creek up the hill. We can stop up there and let the girls get somethin’ to drink and take a rest.” 

Nodding along with Mingyu’s words, you glance over at him, adjusting the reins in your hand as he gestures with his head forward, clicking his tongue, getting his horse to move a bit quicker. You smile, doing the same, feeling Lucy pick up speed with ease, following behind Mingyu. You had offered to ride another horse, to leave ‘his girl’ for him, but Mingyu insisted that you ride Lucy, saying she was the best of the girls. You had to admit he was on to something with that. She was the kind of horse that made you want to do this every day. “Good girl. Just a bit further.” 

Slowing down to a stop, Mingyu easily slides off his saddle before turning towards you, tilting his head, and lifting his hands up to help you. 

“I can do it…” 

“Yeah, I know, but I can help too.” 

He was incredibly frustrating and devastatingly handsome. Rolling your eyes, you swing your leg over the saddle and arch your back, slipping off and into Mingyu’s arms, taking a sharp breath when you realize you are face-to-face with him. “I—” 

While this hadn’t been Mingyu’s intention, having you this close and feeling your breath against his face wasn’t something that he hated. Lowering you to the ground, Mingyu clears his throat, feeling his cheeks burn slightly, though he tries to cover the feeling with a half smirk. “Sorry…” 

You heard his apology, but he didn’t really seem sorry, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to be. Furrowing your brows, you wait a moment to see if he’s going to step back. You feel Lucy move towards the creek, but when Mingyu doesn’t move, you meet his eyes, feeling the tension growing thicker. You find yourself wishing he would just kiss you if he’s going to look at you like that, and as if reading your mind, Mingyu sighs your name, leaning down to press his lips to yours. 

The moment seems to last forever. Your fingers bunch up his shirt against his stomach and Mingyu’s hands grip your hips firmly as his lips move over yours like he’s made for you. After a few minutes, you finally smile against his lips and lean your head back, feeling Mingyu chase your lips before he opens his eyes, searching yours for answers. 

“We should—” Licking your lips, you almost hate yourself for having to say what you know is true. You can feel the knots forming in your stomach as Mingyu’s thumbs trace the hint of your skin between your jeans and shirt. “We should go back to the house. It’s getting late.” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu glances up at the sky, noting where the sun is. It wasn’t that late; he knew that the sun would start to set in an hour or so, but it wasn’t anything to run from. You weren’t running from the setting sun; you were running from him. Tightening his grip on you, Mingyu whines your name, feeling you slide your hands over his chest towards his shoulders to gently push him back from you. 

“Seungcheol would be so—he’d be pissed if he knew this happened.” 

Mingyu knew you probably weren’t wrong, but it still didn’t make it any easier to hear and it also didn’t make you pushing him away easier to handle. Reaching for your hand, Mingyu groans under his breath when you let him catch the end of your fingers on his. “I—I why? This ain’t got nothin’ to do with him, Y/N.” 

Easing your fingers from Mingyu, you frown slightly and shake your head. “He told me to leave you alone. He’s already been so mad at me, Mingyu. I—this would just be one more thing he’d hate me for.” 

There was a lot for Mingyu to process and he did his best thinking while riding. Watching you in front of him, he moves his eyes along the back of your head and down your body before sighing to himself, thinking back on the kiss. It had been perfect. It wasn’t like Mingyu had never dated anybody. Hell, he was a ladies man if you asked any of the other boys on the ranch, but lately he had been wanting more than just a bed for the night. The kiss with you had meant more than any of the one-night stands he had experienced in the past year and the kiss had lasted less than five minutes. 

Helping you guide Lucy back into her stall, Mingyu searches your face as you praise the horse and thank her for letting you ride her and for the evening. You were a good person. So many people misjudged you without getting to know you. Mingyu had done it the first time he saw you and the others had done it without so much as talking to you for more than ten minutes. Your own brother judged you harshly, but now that Mingyu had taken the time to try to get to know you, he was seeing how sweet you were. He wanted to know you better and he wanted you in his life. He wanted that kiss back. 

“Thanks for taking me out there, Mingyu. It was fun.” You were almost free of the tension. You had felt Mingyu’s eyes on you from the moment that you had left the creek and headed back to the barn. You knew he wasn’t happy with what you had told him, but that was being an adult. Things happened that you weren’t going to enjoy and you had to suffer through not getting what you wanted. You had gotten used to that and good at accepting it. 

With one hand on the barn door, you gasp, feeling an arm around your waist pulling you back suddenly. You can see the desperation in Mingyu’s eyes. He wasn’t good at accepting things like you were and he made you want to be like him—to chase after what you wanted but that was dangerous. Whining his name, you shake your head as Mingyu gently pushes you against the wall, taking a step closer to you and leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “We can’t do this. Cheol—” 

“I don’t care, Y/N. I just care about you.” This time Mingyu’s kiss is more urgent and he hopes that it speaks in volumes that he isn’t able to. He relishes in your little whines, your moans as he nips at your lips, feeling you arch your body against his. It’s almost overwhelming and the entire thing has his body on fire. You make him want to throw you over his shoulder and find the closest soft surface so he can show you exactly how he feels, but that’s too fast. You were too fucking important for him to act with his dick instead of his brain. 

Even though your brain is screaming for you to stop this and that Seungcheol is going to kill you—you can’t stop kissing Mingyu. It feels too good. Not just the action of kissing him, but the way it makes your lips feel tingly and your legs like jello. The kiss also makes your stomach feel like it’s full of butterflies and your chest feels like it's going to explode with how hard your heart is beating. You’ve felt this before but never like this. You were falling for this man and that was terrifying and exciting. 

Placing one last kiss on your lips, feeling you chase his lips this time, Mingyu grins gently, stroking your cheek with his calloused thumb as he looks down at you, seeing the hazy look in your eyes. That was how he wanted you to look all the time. You should always look like a woman who had been kissed stupid. If he had his way, he’d have you spoiled rotten and fucked dumb daily—but that was too fast. “So fuckin’ beautiful. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, darlin’.” 

You find yourself biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning at Mingyu’s words and his seemingly innocent touches as he strokes your cheek and wrist before pulling away completely. You could get used to that. There was something to be said about a southern boy and how they could treat a woman, and yet it scared the hell out of you how much you wanted him as you watched Mingyu walk away. “Goodnight, Gyu…” 

The smell of coffee drags you to the kitchen more than your will to move. You had forgotten how much of your muscles that riding a horse actually used. Grumbling a good morning to Seungcheol, you grab your favorite mug down from the cabinet and reach for the pot of coffee he is already nursing, not really feeling how his eyes follow you. 

“You look like shit.” 

Scoffing as you lean to open the fridge and take out your creamer, you glare in your brother’s direction before shrugging. “You say the nicest things to me, Cheol. I’m so glad I’m—” 

“How was your ride? This is what happens when you don’t do it for a decade… ‘Course I would’a asked you to go on a ride with me earlier, but… I ain’t Mingyu now, am I?” The look on your face was more than enough to tell Seungcheol all he needed to know. Your poker face had never been great and being caught off guard left you with no time to prepare your reaction. 

“Wh—it—” Shaking your head, you swallow hard, putting the creamer back in the fridge. Closing it, you let your hand linger on the door for a moment longer than necessary before turning back towards Seungcheol. “It was fine. Not a huge deal.” You weren’t going to let Seungcheol get the better of you when it came to this. He didn’t know anything more than you had gone for a ride with Mingyu. That was innocent. Hell, you hadn’t done anything wrong anyway. “We can go for ride anytime you—” 

“Don’t start this, Y/N. I told you I didn’t want you messin’ around with him.” 

Not only had Seungcheol cut you off mid-sentence but now he was lecturing you on your sex life once again. Scoffing after swallowing a sip of your coffee, you nod and furrow your brows, though the look on your face clearly shows how unamused you are—how unseriously you are taking your brother’s words. “Oh, yes, sir. I remember.” Gesturing to your temple, you pout at Seungcheol, watching his eyes narrow at your attitude. “Ingrained right in here, Dad.” 

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t be such a bi—” Stopping short, Seungcheol shakes his head and runs his hand over his mouth when you press your tongue against your cheek. “I didn’t mean that. Y/N, listen to me, alright? It wouldn’t end well for either of you. So quit your shit before I quit it for you.” 

Your blood was boiling, but you didn’t want to fight with Seungcheol today. You had done plenty of that over the past couple of weeks to last you for the rest of your life at this point. Shaking your head, you tip your cup over the sink pouring out the rest of your coffee as you hear him sigh your name under his breath. “Fine, Cheol. I didn’t do anything, and I’m not gonna do anything. Just really fucking sucks you can’t trust me, even just a little bit.” 

Your words change the look on Seungcheol’s face as he watches you move back around the island. As you start to move past him and out of the kitchen, Seungcheol frowns and reaches out to grab your wrist loosely, pulling you back towards him slightly. “Hey… I’m sorry. I trust you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.” 

Guilt bites at you when you meet Seungcheol’s eyes. While you were hurt by his words, it didn’t make lying to him feel any better. You knew that it wasn’t the end of the world that you and Mingyu had kissed. It didn’t have to happen again and no one had to know about it. “Sure. I’m alright, Cheollie. I’m gonna get ready and work on more of the paperwork.” 

You hadn’t lied to Seungcheol. While you were trying to get away from the conversation surrounding Mingyu, you did have more of the paperwork to attend to. There were still two buildings left on the property for you to look over and today it was the ranch hand’s quarters. Now that you were inside said building, you were almost wishing that you could have that conversation again. 

It wasn’t hard to tell that some of the ranch hands weren’t sure how to feel about you. There was one in particular, Chan, who couldn’t seem to control his face no matter how many times you smiled at him. He didn’t seem impressed by you and you were trying to work quickly and get out of everyone’s hair but especially his. “Um, so—” 

“That’s my bunk. All that shit is mine.” 

Swallowing hard, you meet Chan’s eyes as another man, this one blonde and with much kinder eyes, whispers for him to shut up under his voice. You liked him better; his name was Soonyoung. 

“No, man. She said she needed to make note of things that belong to the ranch. Well, none of the shit on my bunk belongs to the ranch.” 

It had been a long time since you had felt this uncomfortable around people. Clearly they had heard something about you, and perhaps Seungcheol had shared his feelings about you when it came to the ranch in general. You couldn’t blame them—blame Chan—for being upset with you. “I’m not going to disturb your belongings, Chan. I honestly don’t need anything in this ro—” 

“Then what the hell are you—” 

“‘Cause it’s her goddamn property, Chan. The fuck you being so disrespectful for?” Hanging his hat on a hook next to the door, Mingyu furrows his brows tightly, feeling the tension in the house as he looks around at each person. It’s only when his eyes land back on Chan that his nose flairs with displeasure. “And get your damn feet off the table. How many times do I gotta tell you this is a house and not the goddamn barn?” 

You could hear Mingyu and Chan arguing behind you, their volume a bit quieter as if trying to keep it from you as you turn your back to give them space. It wasn’t as if you were that far away, but you could put up the guise as if you were actually focused on your task. Licking your lips, you look down at your iPad and glance around the room before moving towards the living space and jotting down a couple of notes, feeling eyes hot on your back. 

Slapping the back of Chan’s head, Mingyu’s eyes burn as he glances towards you and mouths, ‘Now!’ causing the younger man to recoil from his hand, afraid he will get hit again. “I—Miss Choi? Ma’am… I apologize for being such an ass. Know it don’t make up for it, but—” 

You hadn’t expected Chan to apologize to you; in fact, you didn’t feel like you deserved one. You were invading their space. While, yes, this was your family’s property, you didn’t feel like there was much room for you to lay claim no matter what the paperwork had stated. Beyond that, you felt that the ranch hand’s quarters were theirs; if it hadn’t been for the inventory you were required to make, you wouldn’t have ever bothered them. Shaking your head, you offer Chan another soft smile before meeting Mingyu’s eyes, watching his hand slowly relax on the other man’s shoulder. “It’s not a problem. I’m alright. I’ll be out of your hair in just a couple of minutes. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.” 

Mingyu’s stomach was in knots as he watched you finish your list. You seemed different today. You seemed meeker than you had the day before. You had avoided his eyes a few times already and declined anything to drink or eat even as he cooked for the rest of the boys. “I make more than enough for you and Seungcheol.” 

“And while I’m sure that’s true, I’ve bothered you all plenty. Have a good evening.” Tapping your nails against the door frame, you lower your head respectfully, feeling four sets of eyes lingering on you until you close the door behind you. It had been hard to breathe around Mingyu even with the buffer of all the other ranch hands, but finally you were able to take in a deep breath of fresh air. 

“I admit it… She’s not a bitch.” 

Rolling his eyes at Chan, Jun sighs, leaning back in his chair, letting his eyes move over to Mingyu as he finishes up the stew he had decided to make. “Figured she wasn’t; you’re just a dick, Chan. Mingyu likes her, so she’s gotta be good people.” The way that Mingyu flinches at the accusation of him liking you tells Jun everything he needs to know. 

“And she’s fuckin’ gorgeous. I don’t know how you could yell at her to begin with. I’d rather get on my knees and beg for her to yell at me or somethin’.” 

Soonyoung, more often than not, thought with his dick more than his brain, but rarely did it get him in too much trouble. This time, however, it caused Mingyu’s shoulders to square and for him to toss down the wooden spoon that he had been stirring the stew with. “Don’t talk like that, ya got me? Finish the food, ya fuckin’ selves. I got shit to do.” 

Watching Mingyu open the door and slam it shut, Soonyoung feels like he has whiplash. Jun is the only one who moves to the stove to take Mingyu’s place and he’s the only one who smiles. 

“I—the fuck was that about? I didn’t do anythin’ wrong did I? He’s said worse ‘bout women before…” 

Adjusting the heat on the stove, Jun shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. “You are just clueless. Ain’t your fault that your brain don’t work fast enough sometimes.” Bringing the spoon to his lips, Jun nods approvingly of the taste of the stew before reaching up to the cabinet to bring down three bowls as he tries to explain the situation in a way that Soonyoung and Chan will understand. “Mingyu likes her. Chan was being a dick so that pissed him off and then you had the balls to say—” 

“Ah, fuck! Why didn’t he just say he liked her? I wouldn’ta said nothin’ ‘bout her like that—least not in front of him! You think he’s gonna kick my ass?” 

That was something Jun didn’t have the answer to, so instead he just gave Soonyoung a pity pat on the shoulder as he handed him a bowl of Mingyu’s stew. 

Mingyu had hoped that you would still be outside when he left, but instead of finding you waiting for him, he only saw the sky beginning to change colors as the sun started to get lower on the horizon. He knew that you had been working on your list again all day; you had gone from spot to spot on the ranch so maybe you were heading back towards the main house. 

Jogging to catch up with you, Mingyu calls your name in such a pleading tone that it almost wills you to stop and wait on him. When he does finally catch up with you, he leans over, resting his hands on his thighs, taking a deep breath. “Fuck… I don’t run like I used’ta.” 

You knew you should keep going—tell him that you needed to get something done so you didn’t have time to talk. But, as you watched Mingyu, his brows lifting as he smiled at you still catching his breath, you couldn’t make your feet move. “You saying you’re out of shape, Kim Mingyu?” 

Licking his lips, feeling the drier air starting to dry them out, Mingyu squints at you before standing up. “No. I work out. Hell, woman… you know I throw hay almost every damn day. Shit… are you out of shape? I should—” You were laughing at him. Mingyu wasn’t sure what he should feel, but what washed over him was fondness as your cheeks filled up slightly with your smile. God, you were so pretty it hurt his heart. It had hurt him to say goodnight to you and it hurt him to just look at you now and not kiss you. “I—I wanted to see if you wanted to meet me later.” 

Your smile fading, you lower your eyes and scrunch your nose, trying to think how to answer Mingyu’s question. There was how you wanted to answer it and how you knew you should answer it. “Hmm… I can’t. Cheol—uh, Cheol, he knows we went on the ride yesterday. He was pretty mad about it, so it’d be a bad idea.” 

It’s so clear to Mingyu that what you are saying and what you want aren’t one and the same. Sighing under his breath, Mingyu glances around before reaching for your hand, hearing you whisper his name, but you don’t pull back from him. “What? Ain’t allowed to hold your hand?” 

Now he was being willfully ignorant. Glancing towards the house, you whine under your breath. Even though it's a decent distance away from you and Mingyu, you know that if Seungcheol came looking for you, he’d see you both clearly from the windows or the patio. So instead of standing in the middle of the dirt path that leads back from the barns and the ranch hand quarters, you turn towards the barn, bringing Mingyu with you. 

Once you are more hidden by the large barn, you meet Mingyu’s eyes and work your fingers from his, feeling him cling to you, a whine slipping from his lips. “I already told you. Cheol, he—” 

“He what? He ain’t here right now, Y/N.” When you look away from him, Mingyu reaches up to gently turn your face towards him, feeling you take a step back towards the barn. With each step back, he takes a step forward until your back is against the door and he is inches from you. “I like you.” 

“No, you don’t.” Your rebuttal on Mingyu’s confession leaves your mouth so quick that you watch his eyes search for meaning in yours before he laughs, causing you to knock your head back against the wooden door. “You like the idea of me. I don’t want to fuck up your life and your friendship with my brother.” 

Sliding his hand along the inside of your forearm, Mingyu shakes his head and furrows his brows. If you had been any other woman, he might have let it go, not chased so hard, but there was something about you that had him whipped. He had kissed you twice and already he was struggling to breathe, wanting another one. “First of all, you don’t get to say who I like and who I don’t. I don’t just like some idea of you. That’s some philosophy bullshit and I don’t believe in it.” Watching you roll your eyes at him, Mingyu grins, stepping one step closer so that his knee rests against your inner thigh. “Second, you ain’t fuckin’ up a damn thing, darlin’. I—if you don’t want him to know, he ain’t gotta know. Just don’t run from me.” 

Darlin’. Closing your eyes to the pet name, you curse your body for how it betrays you. Everything that Mingyu was doing was right. His hand on your skin had chill bumps erupting under his touch. His knee on your thigh had you almost willing to settle on his leg, but worst of all it was that fucking pet name. You wanted to run, but right now you wanted to run to him and not away. “He’ll hate me—” 

“Nah, he won’t. Don’t talk ‘bout him anymore.” Brushing his fingers up your arm, Mingyu tilts his head as he takes your bag from your shoulder, putting it on the ground and meets your eyes, really looking at you this close. You were breaking his damn heart by just existing. How had he lived 27 years without you in his life? Sliding his hand along your hip, Mingyu grunts when you gasp his name and it’s like a siren call pulling his lips to yours. 

The kiss is heated, but not rushed. Mingyu didn’t wanna rush a damn thing with you and yet he didn’t want to let you go either, so when you cling to his shirt and your knees start to buckle, he does what’s best. Hands slide under your ass to the back of your thighs as Mingyu lets you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling your fingers thread into the back of his hair. This was heaven. The sun was warm as it set on his back and you were a dream come true. 

You were warm in his arms. Your lips were soft, and your moans were going straight to his cock as he tried to keep himself from getting hard in vain. It really wasn’t possible, especially with how good it felt to be between your legs even like this. Rocking his hips against yours, Mingyu furrows his brows and grunts into the kiss when you nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the feeling of him against you. 

“Fuck…” Mingyu couldn’t remember the last time he had done something like this. High school maybe?  College? The backseat of some car where he could barely move enough to drag his clothed cock between some girl’s legs. You were different. This was different. Mingyu felt desperate. He was practically rutting his hips to meet the way you were rolling yours down over him as you kissed the life out of him. He was so close, right on that edge when you whimpered his name and leaned your head back away from him. 

“This—this is—we can’t do this right now.” You didn’t even believe the words you were saying. You didn’t want to say them. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds uncomfortably as Mingyu took shallow breaths against your jaw. “I’m sorry—” 

“No, hey, no apologizing to me. Nuh-uh, darlin’.” Taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, Mingyu tilts your head back towards him so he can place a sweet kiss on your lips before he helps you stand on your own and leans to pick up your bag for you. 

Though Mingyu was saying one thing, your anxiety was telling you another. Adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you furrow your brows as Mingyu adjusts his jeans and smiles at you sweetly. 

“Go on now, beautiful. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” 

This was the furthest you had traveled from the main house and the last of the property that would need to be inventoried. From what you remembered about the old farmhouse on the edge of the property, it was falling apart—one swift wind from being knocked over, as your father had always put it—but standing in front of it now, you were stunned. The once derelict house was very much standing and it was clear that someone had been working on repairing it for some time now. 

Moving up the steps, you run your fingers over the stair railing. The wood is smooth, as if a lot of care had gone into sanding it down to perfection. Climbing the few stairs up to the porch, you listen carefully for anyone inside the house before knocking lightly, feeling it push forward. “Oh… Um, hello? Is there anyone here?” 

You are met with silence as you step inside of the house. Your eyes search for anyone else, a clue as to who might be fixing up the house, but instead you find yourself overwhelmed with how beautiful the inside already is. When you and Seungcheol had been younger, you would sneak out to this house and run through the halls as your brother would jump over broken furniture and holes in the floor—this wasn’t the same house. 

Wiping his hands off on his jeans, Mingyu furrows his brows at what sounds like someone’s voice. Taking the earbud out of his ear, he licks his lips and puts the pencil in his other hand behind his ear before heading towards the stairs. It was rare that he got evenings like this. Working on a ranch was hard. It was sunrise to sundown almost every day, but for a ranch foreman, it felt like he worked 24/7. When he did get a few hours to himself, Mingyu was always here—working on the house, rebuilding it from the ground up, making it his. 

No one really came this far out on the property. That was one of the reasons Mingyu loved it so much. The ranch was quiet in its own way, but out here, this was peace. So seeing you wandering through the living room not only confused him but also brought a smile to his face as well. While Mingyu didn’t mind guests, he preferred to be alone in times like this—but you were becoming an exception. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing your name, you jump, having not expected to hear anything after the few minutes of welcomed silence. With your hand on your chest over your heart, you turn to meet Mingyu, seeing the surprise in his eyes as well as the smile on his face. “Hi. I—uh, hi. Why are—what are you doing all the way out here?” 

You were devastatingly beautiful and the way the words slipped off your tongue, even while you were flustered, caused Mingyu to chuckle under his breath as he moved into the room with you glancing around. “Well, I—darlin’, I live here. What are you doin’ all the way out here?” 

Shaking your head, you look around quickly again, ashamed that you hadn’t realized that someone was living in the house. Of course you had noticed that someone was remodelling it, but looking closer, you could see little signs of life among the slight chaos. “Oh! I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Mingyu. I shouldn’t have just walked inside like—” 

While you spiraled, Mingyu just smiled fondly and moved closer to you until he could slide his hands over yours, pulling you closer to him. “‘Course you should. How were you supposed to know? Not like we’ve talked about where I live anyhow.” 

Feeling your cheeks heat up as Mingyu presses his thumbs into your palms in small circles, you tilt your head trying to feign confidence. “I—well, no, we didn’t. But, I didn’t expect here. This house has been falling down for years. God, for decades.” 

“I know. I like a project. ‘Sides, your dad gave it to me and told me to take care of it. What I aim to do. Think I’m doin’ an alright job.” Swinging your hands along with his at your hips, Mingyu smiles as he looks around the room, pleased with his progress. There was still a ways to go but for doing it mostly on his own, he had come far in a short amount of time. “You wanna see the rest of the house?” 

Mingyu’s enthusiasm about something he cared about—something he loved—was infectious. You find yourself matching his smile as he laces his fingers with yours when you nod, agreeing to the tour. “As long as it’s safe. Last time I was here with Cheol he broke his arm on the stairs trying to help me when I fell through them…” 

Shock is evident on Mingyu’s face as he leads you out of the room only to stop, opening his mouth and closing it once before taking a deep breath. “Ain’t nobody fallin’ through the stairs anymore. I repaired them and the floor. That was the first thing I did besides replacing the rotten wood in the support underneath the house.” Gesturing forward, Mingyu squeezes your hand tighter as if not willing to let you go as he leads you through to the dining room. “Replaced all the windows on both floors and what hardwood I was able to salvage, I did. It’s a pity to get rid of all the original floors if I don’t gotta.” 

Letting Mingyu lead you through a few other rooms, you don’t realize how much you are smiling until he shows you the staircase and you meet his eyes. “Looks a hundred thousand times safer than it did. You put so much work into this, Gyu…” 

His name shortened on your lips is almost as nice as hearing you call him a pet name. Mingyu’s neck, cheeks, and ears heat up, a slight tinge of red at the tips of his ears as he stutters through his words and helps you up the stairs by moving his hand from yours to your lower back. “I—well, yeah! I ju—just wanna put my heart into whatever I do. No reason to half ass the place you’re gonna call home.” Gesturing with his free hand to the right, Mingyu lowers his head with another shy smile when you practically coo at him and his words. “Stop it… Jus—I ain’t done much to the two bedrooms on this side, but the master bedroom is ‘bout done and I finished the bathroom.” 

God, you want to kiss him. It’s dangerous how much you are falling for this man as he scratches the back of his neck and smiles at you like you are holding the sun in your hands. He reminds you of the stability that you knew you had with your dad and with Seungcheol. The stability you ran away from when it got smothering—the stability you long for but don’t feel like you deserve. He’s perfect and it’s terrifying. 

Humming under your breath, you step away from Mingyu and move into the master bedroom, looking around with an approving nod before moving into the bathroom taking a deep breath. It was more than the fact that it was beautiful, every piece of furniture planned out perfectly; it was that everywhere Mingyu surrounded you. In the bathroom his body wash and cologne overwhelmed your senses, causing your knees to feel weak. In the bedroom the sense of comfort made you want to beg to stay—and yet you didn’t. Begging to stay would be admitting how much you were falling in love with him. “It’s so nice, Gyu. I, uh—I was supposed to do the inventory thing here, but honestly none of this belongs to the ranch anymore so—” 

Watching you gesture around the room as if you are talking about the entire house, Mingyu nods along with you even as his brows furrow. He could tell that something was bothering you. It didn’t matter what words were coming out of your mouth; they didn’t quite match the way you were saying them. They didn’t line up with how you were acting. “Oh, right. I—uh, I mean, technically the house is still y’all’s. I mean, yeah, your dad verbally said it was min—” 

“Then it’s yours. I’m not taking that from you or him. Daddy never did anything without a reason. You were—you are important. This is yours. I’ll make sure that’s solidified in the paperwork, alright?” Sliding your fingers over Mingyu’s wrist, you feel your breath get caught in your throat when he whispers your name and holds your fingers in his. “I should get back. Cheol will start wondering where I am.” 

You weren’t wrong, but Mingyu wished he could convince you to stay. Here felt safe with you. There wasn’t any expectations and all Mingyu wanted to do was to hold you and tell you how much he was falling in love with you. Lacing his fingers with yours once more, Mingyu nods his head towards the hallway as he clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, then I can walk you out. You—uh, you want me to walk you back up to the house?” 

Staying at Mingyu’s side, the sadness in his voice makes your heart beat quicker as you both start down the stairs. You start to tell him no, that you can make it back home just fine on your own, but you make the mistake of meeting his eyes. “Mingyu…” 

You don’t mean to whine his name the way you do. It’s almost pitiful how upset you sound—how needy you sound, causing him to stop in his tracks to catch his breath. There’s no more time for overthinking. Mingyu just reacts almost instantly, turning back up the stairs pulling you towards him, feeling your legs wrap around his waist. 

Lying over you on the bed, Mingyu slides his hand along your side, feeling your teeth catch his bottom lip. It feels like a fever dream having you here on his bed. It’s what he wants for the rest of his life—your hands tracing his shoulders, arms, and back as you whine his name so breathlessly. “I’ll give you everything, darlin’...” 

The promise laced in Mingyu’s words simultaneously breaks your heart and excites you. Tears threaten to spill over the rims of your eyes as you lean your head back against the bed, feeling his lips brushing over your skin, leaving chillbumps as a reminder of where he has been. It feels so unfair to want someone and something so badly when you know it’s unattainable. You know you should run away—spare yourself and especially Mingyu the pain of what would come after this, but selfishness takes hold of you.  

Pushing your shirt up your torso, Mingyu groans under his breath at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He could feel your pretty eyes on him and he had a point to prove. No one could love you like him. No one would ever make you feel this way again, not if he had anything to say about it. 

Every kiss earns him a sweet moan from you and urges Mingyu to move quicker. Soon your shirt is discarded on the floor along with his while his fingers carefully work open the clasp of your jeans. “You are so pretty. So damn perfect.” Mingyu knew he was whining; it was almost painful to speak instead of kissing you, but you needed to know how he felt. “I got you, baby.” 

Holding tightly to the comforter, you lift your hips and muffle your moan behind your bitten lips when Mingyu keeps muttering his soft praises against your skin. Tears were fresh on your cheeks and you wanted to hate him for making you want this, but even you couldn’t lie to yourself that well. You were upset because this was love. You loved feeling Mingyu’s hands and lips on you. He was like the sun, keeping you impossibly warm as you tried to cling to the winter frost in your heart. “Mingyu—” 

“Yeah, baby?” Meeting your eyes as he kisses his way back up your legs, Mingyu smiles against your skin and hums happily when you smile back at him. “I’m gonna love the hell outta you if you’ll let me. Lift your hips again for me.” 

Lifting from the bed once more as Mingyu slides your panties from your hips and down your legs, you swallow hard at the way his words make you feel. He hadn’t said he loved you but it was close enough. It was keeping you in his bed, letting you hold on to this dream for a little bit longer. “Now, you…” 

“I was gonna… I’m just lookin’ at you.” Dropping the last of your clothes onto the floor, Mingyu shakes his head and runs his hand over his lips to keep himself from groaning as his cock throbs in his pants. When you whine his name again in an attempt to keep him focused, he grins before moving to his feet, finally doing what you want. 

You watch as Mingyu quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them down with his boxers before kicking them from his feet. “I—” Laughing as your words get caught in your throat, you find Mingyu tilts his head at you, his brows furrowed as he moves back towards you and the bed. “Just—I expected you to be a little sexier about it.” 

“Ain’t got patience to be sexy ‘bout takin’ off my pants right now when I got you on my bed. Hell, woman… we should be happy I even got them off without fallin’.” Gesturing towards you before sliding his hands along your legs, silencing your laugh when you bite at your lips, enjoying his touch. “Have you seen yourself? Hm? Like this, I mean? I’ll never get tired of it.” 

A moan slips from your lips and Mingyu captures it with his own immediately when his thumb brushes over your nipple, feeling it harden instantly. Speaking on your lips, he smiles between kisses, his fingers moving almost torturously slow over your breast, enjoying how soft you are. “No? Then one day I should put you in front of a mirror while I make love to you. Let you see what I see for a bit.” 

Before you are able to speak or argue with him, Mingyu silences you with a kiss that takes your breath away. Arching your back from the bed, you scratch lightly at Mingyu’s shoulder, rolling your hips down over his thigh, begging in your own way for him to do something, anything, before you combust. 

While Mingyu seemed confident and focused on the surface, each time your hips rocked over his thigh, he was losing his mind. You were so wet and soft. Mingyu wasn’t sure if you even knew what you were doing to him with your sweet little moans and whines. He knew that you wanted more and he was struggling to not move too quickly and regret it later. This mattered to him; it had to matter more than some quick hookup. That wasn’t what this was to Mingyu. That wasn’t what you were to him. He was holding forever in his arms if you’d let him. “Shh, baby… I got you. I promise…” 

More promises and yet this time you weren’t letting yourself be afraid. Your mind was racing as Mingyu’s lips once again moved lower. He took his time trying to kiss every mole and scar from your neck to your chest, but it was when he reached your stomach that you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming under him. “Ah—Gyu! You’re driving me crazy. Please? Please do something!” 

You didn’t have to wait long to get what you wanted when Mingyu smiled against your hip and traced the line of your thigh to your knee, helping you put your leg over his shoulder. “Impatient…” Mingyu hears the complaint on your lips just as he hears it get lost in your moan when he traces your wet folds with his warm tongue. He had known you were going to taste good. There was no way you wouldn’t, but what he hadn’t expected was how addicted he would feel after just one taste. 

Furrowing his brows, Mingyu groans your name and wraps his arm around your hip, pulling you down in the bed towards him so you are closer to his mouth. He would do this every day and night if you’d let him. He’d be your alarm clock, gently waking you up with his lips wrapped around your clit so he could feel your fingers tug at his hair. He would happily help you settle down for the night by doing the same thing only to feel you cum on his tongue as your heel dug into his back and you whined his name like a prayer. 

“So good… Oh, fuck! Please… Please don’t stop.” It seemed that you didn’t even need to ask that of Mingyu. He was determined and talented with his mouth. You felt him all over your body with how quickly he was pushing you over the edge. He was racing through your blood and in your lungs with every deep breath that you struggled to take. Crying out his name once more, you tighten your thighs around his head and fall back on the bed feeling boneless. 

If Mingyu hadn’t had more restraint, he would have cum right when your thighs closed around his head. You were trembling under him all while whispering his name. This was heaven. You were heaven and his goddess. Mingyu had never been a religious man, but in this bed you had made him a believer. 

Licking his lips, Mingyu glances up from between your legs to watch you come down from your high. That was better than any sunrise or sunset he had ever seen. Your lips were parted softly as you took deep breaths, causing your soft breasts to rise and fall, enticing him up the bed. 

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful. I can’t stand it…” Mingyu’s voice was soft but you could still hear the way he was having to restrain himself laced in it. Strong and calloused fingers move along your body as he moves up in the bed to lay over you, his lips brushing over yours carefully. “Wanna be inside of you so bad.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

Smiling into the kiss, Mingyu pulls back just enough to nudge his nose against yours before he sighs. “You sure? We don’t gotta—” 

“Kim Mingyu, if you don’t put your fucking cock in—” 

“Woah, alright. Hell fire… I’m just tryin’ to be a gentleman.” Muttering under his breath, Mingyu smiles even as he complains about your dirty mouth and how he needs to clean it up. Just when you start to tell him that you don’t need him to do anything more than fuck you, the words get caught in your throat. With one hand holding your knee to his hip, Mingyu uses his other to carefully line himself up with your needy entrance before very slowly easing his cock into you. 

The stretch is intense. You find yourself wishing you had asked him to use his fingers first, but soon the painful stretch becomes a welcomed one. Gasping for a deep breath, you throw your head back against the bed, feeling Mingyu’s eyes on you as you get overwhelmed with the feeling of being full. “Shit. Oh, my god, Gyu… Move.” 

Mingyu had managed to get most of his cock in you, but you were clenching around him like a vice. You had him gritting his teeth and digging his nails into the meatiest part of your thigh when you finally asked him to move. He was thanking god or whoever was listening that you had let him move when you did, he wasn’t going to last long. You felt too good. You were warm, soft, and wet. Every thrust he got deeper, you were able to take more of his cock and it was driving Mingyu insane. “Fuck, baby. You are so good. Holy shit… you’re made for me.” Groaning against your jaw, Mingyu thrusts deep and hard, hearing you moan loudly, matching how he felt. “Made for my cock, huh? Never leaving my bed.” 

You were seeing stars with every hard thrust. Mingyu was by far the biggest man you had been with in more ways than one and your body was not only adjusting to it, but learning to crave it. You find yourself trying to imagine being in bed with someone else, wanting to separate yourself from the moment and knowing that Mingyu is the one making you feel this good, but you are reminded by his words that it’s only him. There is no one else and even you know there will be no one else. No one had ever made you feel like this. You were floating. There were no bones in your body. There was just you and Mingyu. No thoughts. No today or tomorrow. Just you and Mingyu. 

“I can tell you’re close.” Muttering against the shell of your ear, Mingyu groans, feeling you clench around him tighter. There was no way you weren’t going to cum for him. He could almost feel your orgasm rolling through you as he rocked his hips to meet yours, hearing you sob his name. “Cum for me, baby.” Burying his face against your shoulder, Mingyu bites down and furrows his brows tightly when you do fall over that edge. Your orgasm is so intense that it takes everything in him not to cum right then. He has to force himself to wait a moment longer so he can ease himself out of you; only then does he paint your thighs and lower stomach with his cum. 

Feeling suddenly empty, you pout, keeping your eyes closed even as Mingyu tries to catch his breath beside you. As if he can sense your sadness, the loneliness creeping into you, Mingyu kisses your shoulder, and his fingers trace your lips. Instead of sadness, you get overwhelmed with anxiety and worry, turning to meet his eyes and seeing only love in his. 

“I lo—” 

“I should head back home, Gyu.” 

Swallowing his words, Mingyu tries not to let your sudden shift in mood scare him, but it's impossible. He had wanted to tell you something, but clearly you weren’t ready to hear it. He didn’t want you to leave, but looking in the direction of the window with you, Mingyu just sighs as you move to sit up beside him. 

“It’s gonna get dark soon and Cheol—” Shaking your head, you feel your heart beat quicker as the panic really starts to set in. Even when Mingyu’s fingers wrap around your wrist trying to get you to calm down, to not rush off, you pull your arm away and slide off the bed to gather your clothes, obviously shaking. “Cheol might come looking for me. That would be really fucking bad for both of us.” 

The idea of Seungcheol coming to look for you here didn’t scare Mingyu. He’d tell your brother exactly how he felt about you. He didn’t understand why you were so scared of this or why Seungcheol would be so mad about it, but the fear in your voice made Mingyu sit up and help you finish getting dressed before he did the same. 

Walking hand in hand with you to the door, Mingyu swallows hard when you finally pull your hand from his. There is so much he wants to say to you, but the look on your face tells him that you aren’t ready to hear it. Instead of speaking, Mingyu just smiles sadly and reaches up to brush his thumb over your cheek, happy when you don’t pull away. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

Tears bite at your eyes the entire walk home. You fight them and the pain in your chest until you are inside your house and meet an annoyed Seungcheol sitting at the kitchen island. 

“Where the hell have you been? I tried callin’ you. I was worried ‘bout you, Y/N. I was fixin’ to have the boys get with me and start lookin’...” 

Thinking on your feet, you force a smile and a laugh, rolling your eyes as you take out your iPad and gesture to it. “Just finishing up the last of the property list, Cheollie. You are so fucking dramatic. I guess my phone died…” 

“Died? How—how the fuck do you let your phone die?” 

It was clear that Seungcheol wasn’t buying your story completely, but you weren’t going to fold. Taking your phone out of your purse, you show it to him and luckily for you, it hadn’t been a lie. Trying to power the phone on, you are just met with a notice to charge your phone and an annoyed look on your brother’s face. “See… I must have forgotten to plug it up last night. Everyone makes mistakes, Seungcheol.” Showing him the iPad once more, you gesture towards the living room and sigh. “I have to finish up a few more things.” 

Following you out of the room, Seungcheol narrows his eyes and sighs. “Yeah, yeah. Give me your phone. I’ll go plug it in. Seriously, don’t do that shit again. I was freakin’ the hell out.” 

You had managed to sit down on the couch and put your purse on the floor before Seungcheol had made it to you. He was hovering and it was reminding you why you enjoyed your own space in the city. Giving him an annoyed look, you tilt your head and lean over to pick up your purse, not realizing your shirt has slipped down your shoulder until you offer Seungcheol your phone and feel his eyes burning a hole into your skin. “Wha—take it. Why are yo—” 

“Your phone died?” Watching you nod and try to offer you the phone again, Seungcheol looks from your face back to your shoulder and the hickey starting to form. He wasn’t as fucking stupid as you clearly thought he was. “Kim fuckin’ Mingyu.” 

Shocked to hear Mingyu’s name on your brother’s lips, you sit up a bit straighter and watch as your brother wipes his hand over his lips, his eyes full of anger. It’s then that you realize what he is looking at and use your phone’s reflection to see what he is seeing. “I—no, Cheol. It’s just a bruise.” 

“I’m so goddamn tired of your lying! I’m gonna kill him.” 

You barely have time to react before Seungcheol has turned on his heels and is heading for the door. Rushing to your feet, you adjust your shirt and chase after him, calling his name in a panic, feeling your blood run cold. 

The house was too quiet now. Mingyu had liked it before, but that was before you had been there and made him realize how alone he was. Sighing into his beer, Mingyu furrows his brows as he sits on the top step looking out over the field leading back towards the ranch and to you. He wished you’d come back; he could almost picture you running back towards him and back into his arms. He’d explain how much he loved you and how he didn’t want you to leave him again. Shaking his head, Mingyu takes a long drink of his beer and leans his head back only to furrow his brows, wondering if he’s hearing things when he does hear someone shout his name. 

“Kim Mingyu!” Seungcheol was seeing red and he was out for blood. He had tried to trust you and he thought he could trust his best friend, but clearly he had been an idiot for trying to do either of those things. Seeing the porch light in the distance, Seungcheol ignores your panicked whines of his name as you run behind him trying to keep up. All Seungcheol could see now was Mingyu moving to his feet in front of him. 

“Hey, Cheol?” 

That was all that Seungcheol let the man get out of his mouth before his fist made contact with it. He had never hit his best friend before, but then again, his best friend had never fucked his sister after being told to stay the hell away from her. Why could neither of you listen? 

“Choi Seungcheol! Stop it!” 

Mingyu’s jaw was on fire; he could taste blood and he felt like he was seeing double as he shook his head and met Seungcheol’s eyes. He could hear you screaming Seungcheol’s name but all he could see was the man’s fury as he clenched his fist and swung again. This time Mingyu knew what was coming and moved quickly enough to not get hit. That only seemed to make Seungcheol more angry and more determined to fight. 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, Mingyu! What did I tell you?!” Pointing his finger towards Mingyu, Seungcheol growls out his words before you grab his arm and try to pull it down in an attempt to stop your brother. This, just like Mingyu dodging his last punch, only makes Seungcheol more furious and causes him to push back against you hard, sending you to the ground with a painful thud. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Seungcheol?” Now Mingyu was seeing red too. He would have been more willing to hear Seungcheol out if he hadn’t seen you fall to the ground, but your pitiful whine sent his head spinning and had him rushing towards his best friend. 

You watch in horror, trying to get to your feet quickly enough as Mingyu manages to land a painful blow to Seungcheol’s stomach. This was your worst nightmare. You had always managed to fuck up things at home, but never this badly. It was one thing for you to fight with your father or your brother, but causing your brother and his best friend to physically fight—this was a different low. Screaming at the top of your lungs for them to stop, you force your way between the two men, feeling Mingyu take a step back first, not willing to hurt you even as Seungcheol pushes against you, trying to finish this. “Please! Stop! I’m sorry! Cheol!��� 

Stumbling backwards when your panicked screams finally seem to get through to him, Seungcheol glares first at you and then at Mingyu before pointing at him. “Get the fuck off my property. You're fired.” Turning his attention back to you, Seungcheol reaches for your arm, pulling you towards him hard. “And you get the hell back to the house!” 

You weren’t fighting for yourself anymore, even if Seungcheol’s grip hurt—you were mad that he was trying to force Mingyu out of his home. Slapping at your brother’s chest and finally his face, you meet his eyes with tears streaming down your face. “No! I will leave! Do you hear me? This is my fault. He isn’t going anywhere. Daddy gave him the house, Seungcheol! It isn’t yours to take.” Shaking your head as he starts to complain, you push him back again further away from Mingyu. “This is my fucking fault! I did this! Not Mingyu. I’ll leave in the morning.” 

“Y/N…” 

Hearing Mingyu’s voice, you turn towards him and shake your head before grabbing Seungcheol’s hand, trying to pull him with you. Mingyu watches you, feeling his heart break as you mutter for Seungcheol to come on, urging him back towards the ranch. Wiping the blood from his lips, he leans his head back and sighs loudly, drawing Seungcheol's and your attention back towards him. 

“You’re wrong, Cheol, and you know it.” Watching you shake your head, Mingyu just nods at you and meets Seungcheol’s eyes even as he glares at him. “She ain’t done nothin’ wrong and I—fuck I ain’t either. She shouldn’t have to leave. This is her home.” Gesturing behind him, Mingyu scoffs, though the pain is evident in his voice. “I’ll leave if that’s really what you want.” 

Tugging his hand from yours, Seungcheol shakes his head before running his fingers through his hair. He could already feel his ribs starting to hurt. He was going to be bruised and he was getting a headache. “I don’t give a fuck what you do, Mingyu. Clearly neither of you gives a shit about what I care about.” 

Trying to grab Seungcheol’s arm again, you whine when he keeps it from you again. “Cheollie…” Tears drip from your cheeks and on to your shirt as you start to walk back with him, but not before meeting Mingyu’s eyes and shaking your head. “Don’t go anywhere. That’s your house; I told you before.” You could see the pain in his eyes, the way he was almost begging you to stay there with him, but you couldn’t. You had to follow your family this time even if he hated you. 

Sniffling back your tears even as you move through the living room with Seungcheol, you watch as he pours himself a drink and sits down hard on the couch. He hadn’t spoken to you once on the walk back to the house. He had kept his eyes forward and no matter how many times you tried to whisper your apology, he ignored it. Even now as you watched him stare at the wall, you could feel the anger rippling off of him. 

“Cheol…” Your voice was meek and full of regret as you moved closer to your brother, finally moving to your knees near him on the couch. You couldn’t make him look at you, but you knew he could hear you. “I’m so fucking sorry. I know I lied. I—I disappoint you all the time. I ruined your friendship with Mingyu. I know you hate me and I don’t blame you.” Wiping tears from your cheeks as Seungcheol continues to seemingly ignore you, you whine into your words, feeling your heart being crushed. “I’m sorry. I love you and I know I fucked this up. I—I’ll go pack. I’ll leave in the morning. I swear.” 

Sniffing hard, Seungcheol takes another sip of his drink and puts it on the arm of the sofa, still not looking at you. “Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You ain’t leavin’.” Daring to look at you finally, Seungcheol has to force himself to stay stoic when your tears cause his heart to ache. “I’m so fuckin’ pissed off at you, Y/N. You lied to me over and over again. It’s all you do—” 

“I’m sorry Cheollie! I—I’m not trying to lie to you. That wasn’t what I was tryin—” 

“Stop it. You say this shit. You always get my hopes up and then you do this.” Gesturing around him like you are supposed to see what he’s telling you, Seungcheol sighs and leans his head back. “You get back in my heart or in someone else’s, and you run.” 

A sob gets caught in your throat when you feel Seungcheol’s pain in his words. His anger had subsided and gotten replaced with something worse and it was eating you alive. “I—I’m not trying to hurt you or anyone else, Cheol. I—that—that’s why I…” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol looks up at the ceiling to stop the tears in his eyes from falling when you try to explain yourself. He didn’t want your excuses. “Yeah, well, it’s what you’re good at and I just wish that once, just fuckin’ once, you weren’t.” 

It was as if the sky was as upset as Mingyu felt. From the moment that he had woken up, the storms had started. There had been few moments in the day when he could wander out during a dry spell and work on a task to keep his mind from lingering on you. You were all he wanted to think about and it seemed as if you were avoiding him as much as he was avoiding Seungcheol. 

Last night had not ended in the way that Mingyu would have hoped. He could still feel the pain in his lip and jaw. The bruise was already starting to turn an ugly color where his lip had split angrily, but at least he had stopped bleeding. That pain was nothing compared to what he felt in his chest when he watched you turn away from him every time you saw him come near. It wasn’t like he blamed you. He should leave you alone, but that was easier said than done when his heart ached from just thinking about you. 

The rain now was a perfect reminder of how he felt. It came in waves, soaking the ground and keeping him secluded—or so he thought. Mingyu hadn’t expected to see you again and he certainly hadn’t expected to see you watching the rain from the large barn door entrance. You looked too perfect just standing there. It felt wrong to just admire you for as long as Mingyu did, but he found himself afraid if he said anything too soon you might fly off like a bird towards the gray sky. It was only when it was unbearable to just watch that Mingyu moved closer and whispered your name just loud enough to be heard over the rain. 

You had thought that you were alone. The storms made it easy for you to think that. Everything was loud when the rain started to fall on the tin roofs of the barns. You had been trying to make it back to the house when the rain started to come down in sheets, pushing you into the barn for shelter. All day long the storms had come and gone quickly, but this one seemed to be holding on like it held a grudge—but when you hear your name, you realize that maybe that idea wasn’t as crazy as it seemed. 

Closing your eyes, you sigh and lower your head at Mingyu’s voice. There was no slipping away from him this time. No pretending like you didn’t hear him or that he didn’t see you standing where you were… You could feel your heart tightening as his fingers brushed over yours and he sighed your name once more, almost begging you without any other words to talk to him. 

“Mingyu, please stop…” You hear him start to speak again, but before he can try to plead his case, you bite the bullet, lifting your eyes to meet his sad ones. “Jus—just don’t, okay? Don’t do this.” Watching him shake his head, hurt and confusion in his gaze, you stay calm, keeping your own tears at bay as you force the words out. “I’m leaving soon. I’m gonna go back to the city. I mean… Let’s be serious, Mingyu… I’m not good for anyone.” 

It was clear what you were trying to do. Mingyu wasn’t an idiot. He could see the look on your face. See the tears sitting on the rims of your eyes even if you wouldn’t let them fall. You were doing your best to push him away and it wasn’t going to happen. Not while he was breathing. Scoffing, Mingyu slides his fingers against yours, taking your hand in his even as you whine his name and close your eyes as if trying to will yourself away from him and your feelings. “Tell me why? Huh?” 

Exasperated, you start to look away from Mingyu as you open your eyes, only for him to turn your face back towards him carefully. “Stop. Why are you doing this? I told you, I am leaving.” 

“And I asked why? Why do you gotta go? Answer that.” 

It seems like such a simple question, one that you should know the answer to as easy as breathing, but you falter. Shaking your head, you open your mouth and close it for a moment before taking a breath and gesturing towards him and then out at the ranch. “Because, Gyu! That’s where my life is. That’s where my job is.” 

Nodding along with your words, Mingyu tries to tighten his grip on your hand when you pull it away, causing him to sigh into his words. “Baby… Why can’t that be here? Huh? You got a life here—” 

“Don’t…” The tears that you had been keeping at bay finally fall onto your cheeks as you take a step back. “Don’t call me that.” 

Following you step by step without trying to push you away from him, Mingyu fights the urge to pull you into his arms and comfort you. The tears on your cheeks break his heart but also tell him that he’s right. “Why not?” 

You try to keep walking away from Mingyu, wanting to put more distance between what you want and what you know you can’t have when you feel the door of the barn against your back stopping you. A soft sob slips from between your lips, causing your words to soften. “Because… it hurts.” 

Giving into his need to touch you, to keep you safe as your voice shakes, Mingyu holds your wrists loosely, happy when you don’t pull away. “Why, baby?” You don’t answer right away; instead, you turn your head to the side, more tears slipping down your cheeks as he uses the pet name again, causing your heart to tighten in your chest. “Why does it hurt?” 

Mingyu watches you shake your head, your brows furrowing as you fight the urge to tell him the truth and if you should run away instead. “Is it ‘cause you might love me?” He knew it was bold of him to say and even bolder to assume, but he felt it when you kissed him. He could see it in your eyes even as you looked for your escape plan. 

Knocking your head back against the door, you shake your head and avoid Mingyu’s eyes for as long as you can until he wipes the tears from your cheeks. “Shut up.” You had never been afraid to tell men that you loved them in the past. The truth was that you had never meant it often. Those three words had been for the most part, just part of the routine. You’d meet a nice guy, move in for a while, say the words, and then get bored, but then Mingyu. The words weren’t just routine. They weren’t just words. 

Not hiding the way the corners of his lips pull up into a smile, Mingyu nods before leaning to brush his nose against yours, testing the waters. Would you pull away? Tell him to get the hell away from you. When you do neither of those things, your hands moving slide over his stomach, Mingyu bites his lips, letting out a slow breath once again and biting a bullet. “It’s alright, baby. I might just love you too.”  

The rain had gotten harder, but so had your tears. Shaking your head, you finally pull away, stepping out from the barn and feeling the rain begin to soak through your clothing as it washes away your tears. The idea that Mingyu loved you was overwhelming and it changed too much. If you ran away—did what you always did—you couldn’t get hurt, and you couldn’t hurt anyone else, only this time someone wasn’t letting you. 

It didn’t matter to Mingyu that he was getting soaked from the rain. He couldn’t stand the idea of you leaving him. He had seen that look on your face. He knew it in his heart how you felt even if you couldn’t say it yet. Licking the rain from his lips, Mingyu grabs your hand and meets your eyes when you whine his name. He can tell what is rain and what is your tears, but that doesn’t matter as his hand wipes it all from your cheeks so his lips can meet yours, hopefully saying everything you need to hear. 

Water drips from both you and Mingyu as he carries you into his house, letting the screen door slam close behind him. There wasn’t a single thing else on his mind than you in his arms at the moment with your lips on his. If it weren’t for the fact that he could feel you starting to shiver against him, Mingyu would have put you against the wall right against the front door and taken you right there. 

You hadn’t planned to end up back here, but then again you hadn’t planned on any of this. How could you have foreseen Kim Mingyu? How could you have imagined how one man would turn your entire life upside down and leave you so completely breathless with just a kiss or his strong hands keeping you secure in his arms? You had never been the type of woman to want to be carried or manhandled, but that also had changed when you had met Mingyu because now you found yourself being carried up the stairs and into his bathroom. “Gyu… put me down. I can walk…” 

“I know what you can do, baby.” Giving you his most blinding grin, Mingyu shakes his head as he sits you on the bathroom counter so he can slide his hands up your thighs under your wet dress. “And I know what I can do for you. Why the hell would I make you walk when I can do it for you?” Tsking as if it’s simple addition, he steps between your legs, urging you to lift your hips, letting him slip the dress further up your body and over your head. “Now I’m gettin’ you out of these wet clothes and into a warm shower.” 

Leaning back against the mirror, you bite at your bottom lip, letting your eyes move over Mingyu as he stands in front of you. “Yeah? I’m not the only one in wet clothes.” The rain had soaked you both to your skin. Mingyu’s white t-shirt clung to his chest, leaving little to your imagination, while water dripped from his hair. 

“Is that your way of askin’ me to join you?” 

Goosebumps were covering your skin, even as the steam had started to fill the room, making the air around you both warmer; it wasn’t enough to hide the effect Mingyu had on you. “What do you think? You gonna make me shower alone? After bringing me all the way here?” 

Mingyu had been good at keeping the confident facade up until that point. He was head over heels for you. You ask him to get on his knees and beg to shower with you at that point and he’d do it without so much as a question. Tugging his shirt over his head, he drops it on the floor next to your dress, meeting your eyes once again before tugging you to the end of the counter so that he can get his lips back on yours, speaking against them. “I’ll never make you do a single fuckin’ thing alone again, baby.” 

You wanted to give in to Mingyu, believe that you could have what he was promising. While a tiny voice inside your head told you to run, your heart was too lost on the moment. Furrowing your brows, you give into the kiss and melt into Mingyu’s touch. For once in a long time, you give yourself completely to the moment and to someone else, hoping they will catch you when you fall—and he does. 

It doesn’t take too much longer for Mingyu to have the rest of your clothes and his discarded on the floor or for him to have your back against the wall of the shower. Moaning into his mouth, you keep your legs tight around his waist, enjoying the overwhelming feeling of Mingyu pinned against you. “Please…” 

“Please?” Nudging his nose against your jaw, Mingyu grins and licks the water from his lips when you whine his name. “What? I’m just tryin’ to understand what you want from me, darlin’. I got you where I said I would…” 

He was frustrating in all the best ways. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing as Mingyu’s cock rested between your body and his. It wouldn’t take much for him to slide right into you and get you as full as he had the day before, but he was being coy. Two could play that game. Knocking your head back against the tile wall, you pout at Mingyu before rolling your hips towards him, watching his mouth fall open in a silent groan. “You did, but if this is all you’re gonna do… You might as well put me down and let me actually take a shower.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu presses you tighter against the wall, his smirk lifting at his lips once again when you gasp. You were soft and wet against him. It was more than what was left over from the rain and the water from the shower—this was you leaking between your legs as you teased him. “You’re so full of shit, baby.” 

You start to give some witty comeback about how at least you are full of something since it’s not him when Mingyu renders you speechless. The pressure of his cock bullying its way into your tight pussy causes a breath to get stuck in your throat that you only let go of when his hips are flush with yours. The first deep thrust has you seeing stars. You had been full of Mingyu before, but this felt different. He was determined and you could do nothing but cling to him and moan as your walls tightened around him even further, begging him for more. 

“Fuck, baby. You feel like heaven.” Mingyu was whining into every single groan as he fucked you slowly but deeply against the shower wall. He could feel every time your pussy clenched around him. He could tell you were close by how your smooth walls were holding him like your life depended on keeping him close. “God, I—I love you, Y/N. I know it ain’t fair to say it right now, but dammit, baby, it’s true.” 

Closing your eyes so tight that you force the tears from them, you hold back your sob as Mingyu buries his face against your neck. You know what you want to say in return—you love him too, but the words don’t leave your mouth. You instead find your escape when Mingyu quietly begs you to cum for him, telling you that he can’t wait—that he needs you to let go for him. Unable to hold yourself back anymore, you gasp for a deep breath, unable to take it when your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave with one of Mingyu’s hard thrusts. 

“Oh, fuck…” The word is drawn out. Mingyu’s vision goes white as he bites at his lips, trying to stop himself from following you immediately, knowing he needs to restrain himself. It’s when he tries to separate himself from you, his climax so close that he can taste it, that you sob his name and tell him to stay. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu thinks he could pass out or die right then and there. It isn’t the smartest or safest thing in the world to do, but he nods, his hand sliding along yours to pin your wrist to the wall as he buries himself inside of you as deeply as possible, spilling his cum into you with a loud, drawn-out groan. 

The water from the shower had started to go cold. If this had been your apartment, you would find that annoying, but in Mingyu’s arms as he held you back against his chest, working soap over your body, you didn’t care. There was a lot left unsaid, especially by you, but the brush of Mingyu’s lips over your ear and your fingers walking along his forearm said plenty—just not enough. 

“I love you, baby.” Closing your eyes again, you turn your head away from Mingyu’s lips, hearing him sigh against your head. “It’s alright. You ain’t gotta say it back right now… But I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop tellin’ you.” 

“I know, Gyu…” Your voice is quiet even as the water is cut off and Mingyu helps you out of the shower wrapping a towel around you. “I—I’m selfish. I don’t want you to stop telling me.” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu smiles softly, his head tilted as he uses the towel to wipe some water from your cheek before rubbing his hands along your arms over the towel. “That ain’t selfish.” Taking a deep breath, he wraps a towel around his waist before returning his attention to you and helping you dry off slowly. “Just means you’ll tell me when you’re ready. I’m patient.”

Furrowing his brows at the light making its way through his blinds, Mingyu sighs, sliding his hand along the bed to reach out for you. It had been a dream come true to sleep with you in his arms, and it seemed like that dream was over. The other side of his bed was cold now. Forcing his eyes open, Mingyu frowns, seeing the reality of what he knew—you weren’t there. In the place where you had slept, there was just a daisy lying on your pillow. 

You hadn’t given him a real answer last night and now, as Mingyu looked at the flower between his fingers, he still didn’t know what you wanted. You had taken the time to wander around the house and out of it to pick a flower next to the porch before bringing it back upstairs to him and yet you hadn’t said goodbye. It felt final and made Mingyu’s stomach feel like it was full of stones. 

It had been a couple of hours since you had gotten back to the house. You had managed to get there before Seungcheol had thankfully even considered waking up and now you were pushing around breakfast on a plate. The smell of the food alone was enough to turn your stomach as you listened to the sound of footsteps shuffling into the room and Seungcheol’s rough greeting as he slumped down into a chair. 

You looked like you hadn’t slept at all. There was a sad look on your face and you barely whispered a good morning to him as your brother studied you. There was something wrong. You would barely look up from the papers in front of you. “Uh—is uh, the inventory shit done? You alright?” Sliding a mug closer to him, Seungcheol starts to pour himself a cup of coffee when you nod and sigh out of your nose, finally meeting his eyes. You have been crying. Seungcheol can see the makeup under your eyes, but no matter how much you try to hide it, he knows what it looks like when you cry. 

“Yep. All good. It’s done and just needs you to sign a couple of things.” Blinking a few times feeling Seungcheol’s heavy gaze, you look back down at the paperwork, putting a pen on top of a stack of papers and sliding them towards him. “Those are for the bank. Basically just what was in the will and estate.” 

Nodding along with your words, Seungcheol picks up the pen, glancing over the papers before signing his name below yours on each sheet of paper. It’s only when he reaches the last one, where his name is above yours, that he stops, his brows furrowing. “What the fuck is this one? I haven’t seen—” Muttering under his breath, he reads aloud a few words loud enough for you to hear as you shift uncomfortably, waiting for him to just get it over with. “Liquidation of Miss Choi’s half of assets and property… No. No, Y/N. I won’t sign this shit.” 

You have to force yourself to meet Seungcheol’s eyes as he shakes his head, pushing the papers back towards you so hard that most of them scatter. “Cheol! Please listen to me. I’m doing this beca—” 

“Fuck you! You don’t get to do this again!” With tears on the rims of his eyes, Seungcheol pushes back on his chair hard, causing it to fall back on the floor as he comes to a stand. “Do you hate me that fuckin’ much?” Instead of getting an answer from you, Seungcheol is met with silence and tears on your cheeks. “Wow, Y/N…” 

The silence is deafening as Seungcheol walks out of the room. The only sound you hear is the slam of the door as he goes outside, leaving you alone in the house with your thoughts that make you feel like you are drowning. 

Mingyu isn’t sure what he expected to find when he reached the main house. He had hoped that maybe you would be waiting for him or that maybe you’d come running out to meet him and jump into his arms. None of that happened; he instead finds Seungcheol sitting on the porch with a cigarette between his lips and tears on his cheeks. “What—” Looking between him and the house, Mingyu swallows hard as his brows furrow at the sight of his best friend so broken in front of him. “What happened?” 

There wasn’t anything to say and there was no way that Seungcheol was going to explain all of this to Mingyu right now. The anger was still too fresh. Barely meeting Mingyu’s eyes, Seungcheol simply gestures back towards the house where you are without saying a word. 

The sound of footsteps once again has your stomach in knots. You try to pull yourself together, wiping the tears from your cheeks, readying to defend yourself to Seungcheol once again when you look up to see Mingyu instead. Of course it would be worse. You find yourself playing the morning back, laying next to him as the sun started to rise and running your fingertip over the bridge of his nose before fear ripped through you so you ran away. Now he stood in front of you looking at the papers spread out on the table. “Mingyu…” 

“I was—well, I was coming to see why you left, but Cheol—” Shaking his head, unable to finish what he is saying as his brows furrow at the paperwork in front of him, Mingyu picks up one of the papers before sighing your name. “You really wanna leave?” 

Sighing, fresh tears falling onto your cheeks, you gesture around you as a scoff slips from your lips as if it should be obvious. “I fuck everything up, Mingyu. No one needs me here!” Pushing back from the table like Seungcheol had before, you start to walk away when a hand on yours stops you. 

“Who says? Who gets to decide that, baby?” Shaking his head, Mingyu takes a step towards you, dropping the paper back onto the table as you whine his name and try to pull your hand from his. “You are always runnin’ away. I ain’t like the rest that just let you, dammit!” 

Mingyu’s words cut at you deep. It was obvious that you were always running away and he was calling you out on it. Shaking your head to disagree with logic, you tug at his hand only to be pulled towards him, feeling his other hand gently wipe at your tears. 

“Now, I love you, and I want you to stay with me.” Even as you close your eyes, Mingyu just sighs and continues, knowing you can still hear him, the tears rolling down your cheeks for him to wipe away. “Baby, I know that Cheol wants you to stay.” 

No matter how tightly you close your eyes and try to run away, to will this all away where you can’t hurt Mingyu or Seungcheol, when you open your eyes Mingyu is still standing in front of you. He’s still there holding you and begging you to admit that you love him. Leaning your head forward, you rest it against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers running over the back of your head soothingly as you mutter softly. “What if I fuck this up?” 

Shrugging, Mingyu smiles against your head before kissing the same place gently. “Then I’ll fix it. I’ll fix you.” 

The words and the idea of them make you laugh, but you know he isn’t lying. Pouting, you finally look up at Mingyu so he can cup your cheek and brush his lips against yours. Finally, after fighting it for days, the words make it past your lips and to his ears. “I love you, Mingyu.” 

You feel his lips pull up against yours, his smile infectious, causing you to smile in return before his arms hold you to him for a few more moments. 

“Say it again.” 

Sighing softly, you nod. “I love you.” 

The words are like music to Mingyu’s ears and more than that, they feel like a promise he’s been dying to hear. Taking a step back, he brushed his thumb against your bottom lip before looking back to the table, picking up the piece of paper that had caused so much hurt today. You watch as he furrows his brows, his eyes quickly looking over the words before he hands it to you, letting you decide what you are going to do. 

It feels like minutes, maybe hours, as you hold the paper in your hands before you finally do what you should have done from the beginning—you rip it in half. With the two halves of the paper falling to the ground, you feel the anxiety in your chest lift as Mingyu pulls you back against him, and he welcomes you home. 

READ THE BONUS NOW

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[bucksangel]

run little bunny

pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 8.6k

summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.

warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever

a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!

tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist

Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.

And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.

Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”

He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.

Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.

James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.

Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?

You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.

The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.

“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.

You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.

But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.

You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”

You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.

“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”

You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.

Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.

“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.

“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.

The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.

Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.

But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.

The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.

“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him. 

“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”

Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.

“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?” 

“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.

Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.

“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”

You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up. 

Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders. 

“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.

“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.

“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”

“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.

“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”

With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.

It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.

But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.

You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.

You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.

Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.

You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if – 

Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.

“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.

“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”

“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.

“What can I do to help?”

What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.

“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”

“Bunny.”

Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.

“Sorry, James.”

“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”

You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.

“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.

“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.

“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?

“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.

“O-Okay, I will.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.

During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.

Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”

With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.

James.

He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.

“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”

With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.

“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.

“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.

“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.

Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.

“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.

“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.

It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.

“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.

The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.

“Is this okay, bunny?”

“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”

James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”

You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.

“Come, bunny.”

With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.

“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.

“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”

It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.

What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.

“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.

James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.

The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.

“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”

You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.

“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.

“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.

“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.

“I will.”

“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.

“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.

And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.

For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.

Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.

“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.

“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.

“Ye-Yes.”

“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Ja–”

“Bunny.”

You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.

“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.

“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.

“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”

“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.

You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.

“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.

This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.

“Um, where are we going?”

“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.

“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.

“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.

It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.

James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.

“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.

“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.

God, you need to get it together.

You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”

“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Bunny—“

His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.

A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.

“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”

James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”

Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?

“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”

“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?

“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”

As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.

“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”

This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”

And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.

“Yes, anything!”

James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.

“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.

He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.

His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.

“Really?”

“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.

“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.

“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.

“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.

“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”

It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.

“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.

“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.

“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.

“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.

Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.

You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.

“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.

“Gonna take these off too.”

Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.

“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.

“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.

“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.

“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.

With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.

He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.

“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.

He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.

“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.

“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.

“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”

James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.

“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing. 

“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”

You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.

The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.

“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.

And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.

“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”

“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.

“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.

“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”

You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.

“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”

When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.

When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.

And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics

[iamthatonefangirl]

miss possessive - congressman bucky barnes

this is inspired by miss possessive by tate mcrae even though i completely lost sight of the song really quickly

✦ part 2 - part 3 ✦

~~~

you really had no right to be so jealous.

you watched him from across the floor, sipping on your flute of champagne. you'd grabbed it off of one of those waiters' trays as they were walking about the room.

it tasted like shit. you didn't like the taste of wine, and it wasn't even enough to get you drunk.

you knew this kind of event was difficult for him to sit through, but hey, he made his choice going into politics.

you watched as he made his rounds, speaking to various donors and attempting to charm them. you watched as all their wives fawned over your-

no.

you watched as all their wives fawned over him, bringing him in for a hug instead of a handshake. of course they were interested; he was the best looking man here. yes, he was the oldest man in the room, but appeared to be the youngest and was, regardless, easily the most attractive. and all the thirty-some wives of the cranky old rich white men wanted him.

it pissed you off. not that you had the right to be pissed, but. oh well. you're just a girl.

after two flutes of champagne, you watch as one of the donors receives a phone call, leaving his wife with Bucky. ever the gentleman, he would never leave a woman all by herself in a room full of sharks who might try to snatch her up. 

Bucky was very much a different man than he was in the forties, of course. doesn't mean he lost the ability to attract every woman in the room.

you can't stand idly by as she puts his hands all over him, and he can't take his eyes off of her. no, of course he would never go for a married woman. what he did know, though, was that if he pissed her off, her husband wouldn't donate to his campaign.

you roll your eyes and decide it's time for some hard liquor.

you hide in the corner of the room, drinking your much stronger beverage as fast as possible. no, getting drunk at a professional event isn't the best idea, but what do you care. you're not the star of the show.

he is.

he's the brilliant ex-POW who's turned his entire life around in a whole new century. he's the gorgeous soldier who not only survived, but is also electing to do something meaningful with his life. 

he's the star tonight.

he's the star of every thought you have of your future, but that can't possibly come to surface now. it's not the time or place. 

watching him entertain this woman truly boils your blood, but at least you have some actual alcohol in your system now. you no longer feel the need to justify why her hands on his pristine suit makes you want to grab her by the diamonds around her neck and yank her off of him. you can justify your desire to grab him by the tie to pull him away from her and yell at him for not focusing on what's important. 

you bite your tongue. you knew it was all a ploy.

doesn't mean you had to like it. 

~~~

while you stand at the bar waiting for your second beverage of the evening, a man comes up next to you, and the bartender takes his drink order. 

you give him a small, awkward smile as you briefly make eye contact. you're kind of shocked: he's definitely the only man in this room who appears to be younger than 60, Bucky excluded.

you almost startle when he speaks up, introducing himself. Michael, he says his name is.

you turn to actually face him this time. roughly 40, plenty taller than you, and brown hair sprinkled with some greys in there. your perfect type. you quietly tell yourself you're done drinking–no way you're gonna fuck this up. if you weren't so mad about Bucky's new admirer, you might be a tad less inclined to speak to him, but… 

you step closer as you give him a real smile and introduce yourself.

"so, correct me if I'm wrong, but something tells me you're here alone tonight," he begins, indicating to your left hand. no ring. 

you laugh a little. 

"you would be correct," you tell him. "I could say the same about you."

he smiles back at you. it's so beautiful you forget all about your boss and the woman he's now got on his arm as he continues to walk around–

well. you almost forget. good enough.

"you would also be correct."

you explain why you're here, you work for one of the candidates. although, you don't tell him who, exactly. he explains why he's here, one of the patrons. you have to pry the information out of him, but you appreciate it: he's trying to talk to you without flashing his money in your face. it's noble, you think.

you eventually learn he's interested in actually getting to know the candidates' campaigns, not just what they think they can offer him in return for his money.

"you know, I would be happy to learn more about your boss' campaign. from one of the people who probably understands it best," he tells you. you're slightly taken aback for a moment, not aware this was a business interaction. you never even told him who your boss was, so it was confusing, to say the least.

you felt stupid for thinking he was actually interested, for thinking that he was flirting with you.

"oh, of course-" you begin to tell him, but he interjects, "after I take you out, perhaps?"

your smile perks back up subconsciously. so you didn't have it wrong.

"I would love that," you tell him, carefully taking the lapels of his jacket into your hands. you feel his hands come to your waist, and it's like a jolt of energy runs up your spine.

you look closer and almost flip your shit as you see his eyes up close. they're Bucky's eyes. he's not Bucky, sadly, but. 

you're fucked.

"maybe dinner can happen... another time?" you offer, hoping he gets the hint. you realize you probably look like a whore throwing yourself at him like this.

he chuckles. "I've got a room upstairs, if you'd like to come have drinks instead of dinner."

hell yes. you're gonna score tonight, even if it's not with the man you dream about with your hands between your legs every night-

"I would," you say, and bite your tongue. "I just... have to stick around until this thing is over. yeah?"

he nods and steps back. "I suppose I should also do what I came here for," he chuckles. "I'll come find you later?"

you smile and you feel your face go pink. "sounds good."

you can't help the fact that your gaze reverts immediately back to your boss the second the man walks off. Bucky hasn't spared you a single glance all evening, but the second you look back at him this time, you're suddenly staring into his beautiful eyes. 

he holds eye contact with you for what feels like an eternity. his expression is muted, no real emotion showing. maybe... curiosity?

of course he's not going to look mad, or upset, or jealous. you have to stop thinking he'd ever look at you with anything other than pure professionalism.

because he's everything. and you're just a kid, lost in the world, desperately in love with your boss, and everything is fucking falling apart around you.

at least you've got a rich, hot, older man ready to fuck you tonight.

~~~

you kept to your word to yourself and didn't drink for the rest of the night, although you continued hovering at the bar for the semblance of safety it provided.

you continued staring at Bucky for the next two hours. the clingy woman's husband had, in fact, returned and took her away from Bucky. clearly, she was pissed, but tried to hide it. you had to bite back a smirk.

he didn't look back at you once for the rest of the evening.

eventually, the crowd dies down. you realize that now, you have to explain to your boss that you won't be riding back to the office with him, effectively telling him your exact plans for the rest of the night. embarrassing!

you're almost ready to bite the bullet and bid Bucky a good night, scanning the room for him, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

"we still on for drinks?"

you plaster a smile on your face as you turn around to the man standing behind you.

"absolutely," you say, taking his hands. "lead the way."

you begin to follow the man, telling yourself to try and remember to shoot your boss a text to 'not worry about you' before getting your clothes torn off by this man who's currently whisking you away.

you get into the elevator with him, what's his name, you think? oh, Michael, and yank him in hard, crashing your mouths together, putting all of your energy into how badly you need this.

you're startled by the sound of a clanging of metal, ripping your mouth away from the man's and turning to face the noise.

well, apparently, you were too eager and stupid enough to not wait for the elevator doors to entirely shut, because you see now that the noise was a result of Bucky's vibranium arm grabbing the elevator door. he pushes it open and steps inside, eyes piercing daggers through you the whole time.

you stand there, appalled. the man gently pulls away from you, reaching out a hand to attempt to shake Bucky's hand.

"Mr. Barnes, it's a pleasure," he begins. "my apologies for this... less than ideal meeting."

Bucky doesn't even look at the man, eyeing you up and down, taking in your smudged lipstick and the way your dress is slightly out of place.

the man attempts once more to interject. "Mr. Barnes, please, don't worry about her. why don't us men go back downstairs and have a real discussion? I'd love to hear more about your campaign."

wait. why do his words sound like they're throwing you under the bus, almost?

Bucky notices it, too, you realize. he tilts his head in the man's direction before actually averting his gaze to look at him.

"and leave the lady all by herself?" he asks.

"don't worry about that. she's... inconsequential. if you and I can just go back downstairs and–"

"what did you just say?" Bucky asks. you swear he doesn't look like your boss anymore, but someone... else.

the man is taken aback by Bucky's demeanor. his mouth gapes like an idiot.

"you do know this is my assistant, right?" Bucky asks him. the man's face goes pale as the pieces slot together in his head.

"Mr. Barnes, my apologies, truly," he says.

you just stand there feeling more stupid than ever. inconsequential? wow, okay. you almost don't even care that he's dismissing your entire existence, but you can't stand the fact that he's doing it in front of Bucky. you care more about what Bucky thinks of you than literally anyone else, and now? now he's going to see you as a fucking slut who isn't even good enough for a man to commit to for one night.

god, you're pathetic.

"shouldn't you be apologizing to her?" Bucky grits.

the elevator doors open to the man's floor, and he mumbles a sorry under his breath as he runs out.

great. not only do you look pathetic in front of your boss, but you're not getting fucked tonight, either. just great.

the doors shut behind Bucky, who has now returned his gaze to you. you wonder if he's going to press the button to go back to the lobby.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Mr. Barnes," you say, swallowing your embarrassment as you stand up straight and adjust your dress.

he just stares at you.

"what?" you ask.

"are you okay?" he asks, and he looks genuinely concerned.

you know he cares about you, you're his assistant, after all. but that's it.

"fine," you assure him, and begin to reach behind him to press the button to take you back down to the lobby.

he gently grabs your wrist before you can.

you look at him, confused. you know your face says it all.

"Mr.–" you begin.

"Bucky," he corrects.

"can I press the button, Mr. Barnes?"

he still hasn't let go of your wrist. you feel stupid for enjoying the feel of his metal hand against your skin, for getting to feel a part of him that's real.

"you know, you clearly picked out the worst of the men here tonight," he observes.

you roll your eyes and pull your wrist away from him before you do something stupid.

"are you kidding? this place was riddled with capitalist billionaires and politicians. like you," you say, smirking.

he chuckles a little.

you can't help yourself, though. can't let it go unsaid.

"clearly you had some interested parties of your own tonight."

he rolls his eyes and finally turns away from you, pressing the button for the lobby. you let out a quiet sigh of relief. being in this elevator any longer, with him? that would just about kill you.

"you noticed that, huh?" he asks.

"who didn't?" you mumble. but of course, he's not just a politician, he's an enhanced, so he hears it.

"look, I knew she was married, I was never going to-" he begins to explain, but you cut him off.

"oh, I don't care what she does in her own fucked-up marriage."

oh my god. what did you just say? did you just admit to the fact that the only reason you did care was because she was fawning over Bucky?

fuck.

the elevator doors open, and you rush out.

you can hear the smirk on his face as he trails after you.

"so, you were really going to sleep with that guy, huh?" he teases.

you stop in your tracks. most everyone has left by now, leaving only you and Bucky in the room aside from the clean-up crew. you turn back to face him.

"can we just go?"

he nods and calls for the car to come around.

~~~

twenty minutes, you remind yourself.

in twenty minutes, you'll have made it back to the office, and you can go get in your own car and take yourself back to your own place and you won't have to be sitting thigh to thigh with your boss in the back of a limo that would totally be hot to fuck in-

he clears his throat, and you turn your head to face him.

"what that guy said..." he begins. you roll your eyes in anger at the reminder. you didn't even care he said it, you just wish he hadn't said it in front of Bucky.

you wave your hand as though waving off the thought, and waving off Bucky's concern. but it doesn't quite work like that.

"you're not inconsequential."

he says it with such a conviction you feel it deep in your bones, in the very core of your being. he sounds so authentic that it almost hurts.

a million thoughts swirl in your head. you could say i know, you could get defensive, you could say thanks, Bucky...

a better one pops in your head.

"how did you know where I was? you didn't see me all evening."

the limo stops moving. the driver rolls down the divider to grumble something about traffic at this hour? before rolling it back up again.

great. now it's going to take even longer to get home to your vibrator.

Bucky sees the interruption as a way to drop the matter. you press it.

"Mr. Barnes?"

"god, would you stop calling me that?"

you see him turn away from you to look out the window, biting his lip and rubbing his forehead. you've now frustrated him, and he's mad at you. this is good. it's easier for you to deal with him being angry at you than him being nice to you.

you know he just wants you to call him Bucky, but you're a smartass.

"yeah, okay, sorry. Sergeant Barnes," you mumble, smirking to yourself.

he about flips his shit. why is he getting so worked up?

"seriously?" he asks, turning back to you. his eyes are blown back, in anger, probably. not lust, like you wish they were. because you're just a stupid kid, and he's just your boss with a lifetime of trauma. you could never understand him the way you wanted to.

"what?" you say, biting your lip as you smile, continuing to tease him.

you swear that for a second, he glances down to your lips.

SHIT!

in that embarrassing moment, you realize your lipstick is still smudged across your face from the moment in the elevator. your heart rate shoots up as you bury your head in your chest, bringing your hand to wipe away the mess of your face, before turning to face the opposite way from him.

you are, well and truly, stuck in traffic. some concert, or sports game, or whatever...

which means you're stuck, pressed up against your boss, in the back of this tiny limo right now, for only god knows how much longer.

you're pulling your phone out of your clutch when he says your name.

you want to lean into the feeling, how smooth it is. how crisp his voice is, how pretty it sounds saying your name, as though he's genuinely paying you any attention whatsoever.

"you're not inconsequential."

it flares your anger, all of it coming up from your gut and into your throat, as you respond.

"god, would you forget it already?" you snap.

shit, shit, shit. you fucked up. you just snapped at your boss, of all people. you try to backtrack, throw out a million comments of "sorry," but that's it, you're getting fired.

you finally look back at him, and he's actually looking at you. like, it feels like he's staring into your soul, seeing all the pieces of you that you're trying to keep hidden from him.

the car begins moving again.

~~~

he watches you, trying to figure you out, as always.

he can't think of a better word for it than the fact that you genuinely amuse him.

he sees the look in your eyes, the way you're desperately trying to cover up the shame you feel over what happened in the elevator. he's trying to be gentle about it, trying to assure you that what the man said was utter bullshit, but you keep shutting him down.

god, and you look so...

no. you're, like, 80-plus years younger than him (he rubs his temples every time he remembers his age) and employed by him. any interest on his part would be purely inappropriate, a gross misuse of his position of power.

and god, his fucking age, man. he shouldn't even be around anymore-

anyways.

you look at him with those fucking doe eyes, going back and forth between anger, and shame, and something else he can't quite pinpoint.

this is probably the worst part of what happened. you're always so unapologetically yourself, but he can tell this man has gotten under your skin.

even if it's not his job to comfort you, he doesn't want you to feel like that. because who you are is perfect. 

~~~

one minute, you're staring into his eyes, trying to read the look on his face. 

the next, you're bracing yourself as the car spins out of control, feeling hit after hit of various cars all crashing into you sequentially.

you don't register it until after it's all over. the way he's wrapped himself around you as though to protect you. his flesh arm cradles your head to his chest and his vibranium hand wraps itself around the back of your neck.

you take a few deep breaths and begin to pull away from him, looking up to his face as you do. his eyes widen in shock as he looks at you. what? what is it?

"fuck, we gotta get you to a hospital." 

~~~

✦ part 2 - part 3 ✦

✦ masterlist - join a tag list ✦

[soapcloth]

CW: soap x reader, brief mentions of past bullying, religious soap, pushy soap - dividers @/cafekitsune

The mortifying case of Soap having been one of your childhood bullies.

You spot him for the first time in years when he tugs open the door to the corner store just down the street from your parent's house—blissfully unaware of your presence as you duck away behind an aisle in hopes he won't spot you.

Despite being years older, its impossible not to recognize his face.

Last time you checked he had fucked off into the military. Why was he back in town at the same time you were? He never had been before.

Grabbing the last thing your mom needed, you wait until he's preoccupied at the fridge to sneak over to the till, ignoring the odd look from the cashier—of course John's grabbing the same old drink he used to make you steal for him. You can still remember the taunting bark of his laughter when you would sniffle and sob after delivering the beverage, absolutely sure you were going to spend the night in a jail cell if they caught you.

Bastard.

Placing the change on the counter you nod and hastily take your leave, about ready to cry tears of joy once you've made it out the shop door.

It's hard to believe he still has that much of a grip on your psyche all these years later.

Heavy breath billows from your lips as you take the crumbling road back to your parent's place, plastic bag smacking against your hip with each step—always the errand runner around here.

Even if the entire world shifted on its axis, you'd still wager that this town would manage to stay as is.

Three more days until you could go home—your real home; the spot on earth you had carved out for yourself, miles away from this unfathomably deep pit. Your scratchy childhood sheets give you a new found sense of appreciation for the set you had bought for yourself shortly after moving out; soft and well-loved atop your real bed, awaiting your return.

A large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

"Christ! Almost missed ye!" John coughs out, panting from his mad dash to catch up to you.

"Me?" you sputter out, spinning towards the towering man as you calm your racing heart.

The new angle gives you a clear look at the angry scar healing on the side of his head.

He beams, pupils a little out of sorts as he drags you in under a thick bicep. His scent is distinctly more man than you recall and his arms remind you of the sturdy branches belonging to a tree; limbs bigger than the ones you remember reaching for you when he used to chase you around the woods—you had thought them impossibly large then... what were they feeding him in the military?

"O'course! Who else but ye? That f'yer Mum?" he asks, grabbing your bag and taking a brief, distracted peek.

You don't get a chance to reply as switches his attention, nudging his nose into the top of your head to practically inhale your hair. he rumbles happily. "Thought I'd ne'er see ye' again."

you forcefully dig your heels into the gravel and wiggle out of his grip.

"Why would you want to see me? Don't you hate me?" you spit, frowning as you snatch your bag back.

You watch confusion eat away at him for a second before his thin lips press into a frown that mirrors your own, dark lashes trembling a bit as he glares a hole through you.

"Hate ye? Ye think ah hate ye?"

You weren't going to do this—not with the boy that had gleefully isolated you from everyone in your age range during the most important social years of your early life.

"Yer daft!" he suddenly laughs, slipping back into his jovial grin. "-Gave me a fright there for a second!" he pulls you back into him with embarrassing ease and begins to walk again, knuckles grinding into your head before he grabs the bag from you, a satisfied chuckle leaving his lips. "Cannae believe ye thought ah hated ye—Had the biggest crush oan ye,"

No.

"-Thought ah was makin' it obvious!"

No—not this.

"Ah was a jealous wee git, detested ye hangin' out with yer pals. Likely made a right fool o'maself." he rubs at your arm with his large, bear-like palm and sighs contentedly. "No matter, Ah'm no a teenager anymore. How long ye in town for?"

you tug your gaze away from the tight-fitting grey hoodie straining pathetically over his muscles, letting it land on your shoes. he notices your reluctance and laughs, giving you a squeeze

"-God gave me a second chance, ahm no lettin' ye slip away—Full steam oan till we’re wed this time, alright?"