#i love how they are at each other’s throats the entire movie

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Loose

steddie, omegaverse, first time, unwed mothers’ home steve

It’s 1953, Steve is 16, Nancy is older, getting ready to leave for college early. Steve only realizes because he’s throwing up every day and Carol says it’s just like Tina before she went away last year. Steve is scared, but excited, because Nancy is so smart and pretty, he knows she’ll be able to take care of them, that they’ll have such beautiful babies.

But when he tells her, she immediately says, “We can’t keep it, Steve. It’s not like I’m going to marry you, like I’ll throw away my entire future!”

Steve just cradles his belly, murmurs, “But pups are the future…”

“I’m not having pups now. Everyone knows how desperate you smell all the time, how do I even know it’s mine?”

Steve cries. “I love you, Nance.”

“No, you don’t. We’re just kids.”

Steve doesn’t know what else to do after that, he tells his mother. She yells and throws things, asking, “God! What did I do to deserve this whore for a son?”

She’s mostly calmed down by the time his father comes home from work. Together, they make plans. Steve is sent away to an unwed mothers’ home two days later.

They take away his scent tokens. He doesn’t even get to keep the clothes he brought with him, wearing the same smock dresses as all the other residents.

He befriends a fellow omega, but Chrissy is already 7 months along, so he knows she will be gone soon.

Steve writes letters, begging to be brought home; his letters go unanswered. In reality, they are never sent.

He and Chrissy cuddle, approximating sharing a nest on her slim twin bed, scenting each other. Steve marvels at the feeling of Chrissy’s baby kicking and longs for the moment he will get to feel his own baby move. It happens the day Chrissy goes into labor, and Steve cries at the feeling. Then he cries again three days later when Chrissy comes home from the hospital, her pup taken from her, never even getting to hold him.

Her parents come to take her home that weekend. She promises to write to Steve, but the home matron intercepts those letters and burns them.

Steve rarely comes out of his rooms after that. Which means he’s in there when the janitor comes in to clean. Wayne Munson can’t stand the pain these poor omegas go through. He helped a few omegas procure illegal abortions in his youth, but now he does what he can for these unwed mothers. He sneaks little treats into rooms, especially chocolate. And he listens, offers a sympathetic ear, and to send letters for them.

Over the summer, he gets his nephew, Eddie, a job in the gardens, cutting the grass. And he tells him about Steve, how much the poor boy needs a friend.

Wayne convinces Steve to get outside and get some sunshine. Eddie is quiet, a perfect gentleman, simply waving hello.

Steve waves back, can’t help smiling. “You like going to the movies?” Eddie asks.

“We’re not allowed to leave the property,” Steve answers with a shrug.

“But do you like movies? Because you’ve missed some good ones, and I thought, maybe I could tell you about them.”

“I’d like that.”

Everyday Eddie tells Steve the plot of a movie or a book. He sneaks in the funny pages so they can laugh at the jokes together.

And then one day, Steve’s gone. He had his baby, and the nurses took her away and gave her to a nice, middle class, *married* couple.

Steve’s parents come to fetch him right away, so he doesn’t even get to say goodbye to Eddie. But he leaves a scrap of paper with his address in his room, hoping Wayne will find it.

He does. Eddie’s first letter comes barely a week later. They keep up their correspondence until Steve finishes high school. Then he packs his bags, steals $5000 from his father’s safe, and gets on a greyhound bus to Eddie.

Steve’s heart is in his throat as the Greyhound bus pulls into the Forest Hills station. What if Eddie doesn’t meet him? If he came all this way for nothing. He knows he shouldn’t think that.

But he’s scared. He’s just got a suitcase, and a decent chunk of it is taken up by all the letters Eddie has written him for the past 20 months. So much ink spilt over telling Steve about going out with friends, his job at the mechanic’s garage, all his plans for their future.

Steve wrote just as many letters back, telling Eddie everything as their friendship blossomed into an honest to god romance. He shared every important thought, every hope and dream, and only a little because he didn’t have anyone else to confide in.

He was a loose omega. No one talked about where he’d gone or why, but they all knew. Or their mothers kept them in the dark, simply saying the Harrington boy wasn’t allowed over anymore and they’d do best to stay away from him at school.

It was a lonely life, Steve can’t help worrying that Eddie will abandon him too, no matter how many sweet words and declarations of love are stuffed into his suitcase.

It doesn’t matter. All his worries fly away when he sees Eddie, waiting impatiently, holding a simple bouquet of white carnations, breaking into the biggest smile when Steve gets off the bus. Steve smiles and runs over to him, laughing when Eddie picks him up by the waist and spins him around, relieved to be wearing a girdle to contain the squish on his tummy.

“I missed you,” Eddie says gently, cupping Steve’s cheek.

They haven’t kissed yet, not being ready the last time they saw each other, and now… Steve feels like he’s spilled his very soul to Eddie, but the thought of touching lips has him suddenly shy.

Not Eddie though, he stares into Steve’s eyes, his own dark pools of devotion spilling over with want and holding him in place. Then he leans in.

The kiss is soft and sweet, lips closed. Steve is the one to push for more, to delicately trace his tongue along the seam of Eddie’s lips. That’s all the permission Eddie needs, the hand still on Steve’s waist pulling him in tighter.

Steve would happily kiss all afternoon, but Eddie pulls back with a grin and says, “We’ve got an appointment to keep, Sweetheart.”

Eddie takes him to the courthouse, and they meet Wayne there as their witness. Getting married is almost too easy, and Steve can’t help crying when he finally gets to sign his name as Mrs. Steven Munson. To have a family to love him rather than see him as their deepest shame.

From there, Wayne takes them out to dinner to celebrate, insisting that the newlyweds share the most expensive dessert on the menu. Steve keeps thanking Wayne for all he’s done, the old beta waving him off and assuring that it’s what he’d do for anyone, Steve just comes with the added bonus of making his nephew happy. Eddie squeezes his shoulder, silently promising that it’s true.

Then Eddie brings Steve home to their little apartment. “We’ll start looking for someplace bigger, once you’re settled. I didn’t want to pick a place you didn’t like; I know how important it is for an omega to feel comfortable at home, like it’s the right place for your nest.”

Steve practically pounces on Eddie at that, his desires overwhelming his nerves as they hurry to get out of their clothes, then Eddie freezes, staring at Steve in his bra and panties.

He presses his legs together, moves a hand to cover his soft belly where the elasticated waistband cinches in, flesh spilling over the top, stretch marks faded, but still visible.

He feels loose, and Eddie is just staring until suddenly he’s not. His hands pull Steve’s to the side as he murmurs, “Oh, Stevie, you’re beautiful. More beautiful than I ever imagined.”

“Eddie…”

“You are! My beautiful omega. My pretty wife. I love you no matter how you look, but you are too damn pretty for a fella like me.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to praise. “You are my handsome husband. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs, kissing him.

Things slow down as they remove their final layers, Eddie marveling at Steve’s naked body before finally covering him and sinking into the wet heat of him.

They make love, and Steve finally understands why people call it that, all his quick liaisons with Nancy focused on her needs as she pounded into him, the alpha coming as quickly as possible, never knotting him, to keep them from getting caught.

Eddie takes his time, uses his fingers to make Steve spill again after the first round, gently rubbing him from the inside and keeping him filled until they’re ready for round two.

Within the year, they have a little yellow house on a corner, flowers in the garden and a baby in the nursery named for his great uncle. Little Wayne isn’t a replacement for the pup that was taken from him, but Steve adores finally getting to be a mother.

Steve never stops missing his first baby. In 1978, she finds him, calling the house. Steve cries silently as she tells him about herself. Her name is Cathy (he always wanted to name her Marilyn), she grew up in Chicago, and now she’s studying to be a nurse. She asks if he would like to meet her, and he instantly says yes.

Eddie holds his hand as they wait in the little restaurant for her to arrive. They don’t bring the kids, but Steve has pictures to show of Cathy’s siblings. He has an old picture of Nancy, so she can see what her father looked like. Not that she needs one; Cathy looks just like Nancy, down to her button nose.

But all that matters to Steve is the fact that he gets to finally—FINALLY—hold his baby girl.

[wormswurld]

“why did you tell felix about me and venetia?”

“well, i didn’t think he’d react that badly”

“yes you did.”

[classyrbf]

CALL HIM DADDY! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...when you jokingly call the jjk men ‘daddy’ just to see how they’d react

INFO...jjk men (toji, nanami, geto, gojo) x fem!reader, suggestive, fluff, crack fic kinda, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

You were washing the dishes, finally scrubbing the last plate as Toji at his snack on the couch. You turned the faucet off, shaking the excess water into the sink before you turned to Toji, a smirk forming on your face. The entire time you were washing dishes, you remember seeing a video where a girl pranked her boyfriend by calling him ‘daddy’ in the most casual way possible.

You cleared your throat, leaning against the sink. “Hey, daddy, can you pass a napkin to dry my hands?” You stared at him, waiting to see his reaction.

“Yeah, of course, ba—wait what the hell did you just say?” His brows pinched together as he stood from his spot on the couch. He slowly walked over to you, placing his snack on the countertop.

“I asked if you could pass me a napkin,” you repeat.

“Nah, nah,” he shook his head, “you said something else before that.” He narrowed his eyes at you, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

It was getting hard to keep a poker face, finding it difficult to stare into his eyes. “What are you talking about, Toji?” You sighed. “You’re hearing things, old man,” you scoffed, turning away from him with a smirk on your face.

“Oh, so now I’m old man, huh? Not daddy? Hm? Hm?” He grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer to him to the point you couldn’t hold back your laughter.

“It was a prank!” You laughed, tears in your eyes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman. I swear.” He pecked your lips, smiling at you. “Though, I think we should try that in the bedroom.”

“Toji Fushiguro!” You yell as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you to the room.

GOJO

You and Gojo were so casually getting ready to watch a movie before he asked if you wanted any snacks from the kitchen. “Yes, please, some chips and soda.” You gave him a tender smile. A few minutes went by as he came back with a bunch of snacks you didn’t even ask for, but you knew they were most likely for him.

“Your chips and soda.” He placed the bowl in your lap and the cup in your hand. “Want any candy?” He asked, pointing to the sour strips he was munching on.

“I’m okay, thank you, daddy,” You causally said before placing a chip in your mouth.

His eyes shot up in surprise before he began choking on the sour strip. “O-oh, my god.” He began coughing, hunching over.

“Satoru, are you okay?” You rubbed his back before he turned to look at your with the most shocked expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Am I okay? Baby, you literally just called me daddy! Damn near lost my life!” His voice was still rough from all the coughing.

“What?” You asked, pretending to be confused.

“You….just…called…me…daddy.” He leaned closer towards you with each word spoken.

“Toru, I love you, but never in a million years would I call you that. Play the movie.” You shake your head in disbelief, looking towards the the tv.

“Say it again.” Toru grabbed at your hands, holding them to his chest. “Say it again, please!” He begged while you ignored him, continuing to eat your chips. “You think I’m daddy? Am I? Come on, baby. I can be so daddy!”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at how serious he was taking the whole situation. Your eyes landed upon his expression, an offended look in his eye. “I’m sorry, Toru!” You cackled.

“You’re not funny,” he mumbled, turning away from you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Awe, baby,” you coo, cupping his face and kissing his cheek, “you’re so daddy, okay?”

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Promise?”

“Yes,” you giggle, “promise.”

NANAMI

You were getting ready for bed as Nanami read his book in the living room with the light dimmed. He had his reading glasses on, so focused on the words on the page before you walked over to him. “Going to bed?” He looked up from his book.

“Yeah,” you yawned, nodding your head.

“Well, alright. Goodnight, I love you.” He returns your kiss when you lean down to peck his lips.

“I love you too, daddy.” You smile, walking towards the bedroom. He goes back to reading his book, adjusting his glasses as he reads the next few lines on the page. Suddenly, he places the book on his lap and looks around the room. Nanami quickly gets up and follows you to the room, seeing that you’re already under the blankets.

“Honey?” He whispers.

“Yes, Kento?” You open your eyes to find him standing in the doorway.

“What did you say in the living room a few seconds ago?” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I love you?” You say, raising a brow.

“Yeah, that’s what, uh, I thought.” He bites the inside of his cheek, adjusting his glasses once more. “You sure that was all?” He furrows his brows.

“Yes, Kento, I’m sure.” You let out a tired sigh before turning over in the bed, pulling the covers over your face. “Goodnight, daddy.” You cover your mouth with your hand in attempts to hide your laughter.

You feel the bed sink beneath you, his hand coming up to pull the blanket from your face. “I don’t mind you calling me daddy, but please, don’t try and hide it. If you’d like to try something new just let me—”

“Ken, baby, it was a prank!” You sit up in bed, laughing. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” You hug him, kissing his cheek. “You thought I was being serious?”

“Well…yeah.” He blinks, cheeks flushed a light pink. “I…kinda like it,” he admits.

“Oh!” You say, slightly shocked. “I’ll keep that noted.”

GETO

You were getting ready to leave to the mall, grabbing your keys and slipping your shoes on at the front door. Geto walked over to say goodbye, grabbing at your hand. You kissed him quickly before saying, “bye, daddy.” You tried to rush out the door.

“Bye, mommy.” You quickly turned your head with a look of shock. Geto returned your expression, still holding your hand. “What?”

“What’d you just call me?” You shut the door, locking it.

“I didn’t say a word.” He shook his head at you. “You’re the one who said something.”

“No, no, don’t turn this around on me, Suguru Geto!” Your jaw dropped.

“You’re the one who called me daddy!” He retorted.

“Not even!” You quickly snap back.

“Yes, huh! Mommy!” He yelled, laughing at you.

“Not, uh! Daddy!” You shouted back at him before both you began laughing with each other. “You’re no fun, I was trying to prank you.” You pout.

“Can’t prank me, love.” He kissed the top of your head, slightly chuckling. “Have fun at the mall, m’kay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love you.”

“I love you too, mommy!” He joking says as you shut the door his face.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Warning? Idk if it is a warning but reader is gn but does have hair that can be put up and wears makeup

Request are open! Especially for Logan rn <3

Summary: Rogue takes pictures/videos of you and logan and gives them to you two as a gift on her anniversary of arriving at the mansion.

Rogue had been at Xavier's for close to two years now, and she wanted to make a special gift for the people who helped her adjust the most since arriving here. You and Logan, the two of you had really taken her under your wings and treated her more like a daughter than anything else and she wanted to show her appreciation in some way so she thought a homemade scrapbook of sorts would be a nice little token of gratitude.

She started collecting candid pictures and even took some videos of you two when no one was looking earlier in the year, and she complied them for you to view whenever you wanted. She put finishing touches on it before taking a deep breath and going to find the two of you.

She found you in the living room trying to find a movie to watch. She interrupt the argument of whether you should watch a western movie or a horror movie by clearing her throat, "I made you guys something, it's just something small, just as a thank you" she held out the box and you took it from her hands smiling up at her as Logan tried to protest the gift, "there's nothing to be thanking for" you elbowed him and shushed him. "Sweetie, that's too much." The three of you sat down and began to go through the box together.

Moment 1.) A cuddle session.

The first moment was something she walked in on accidentally. She knew you had a rough day so she went to your room with some cookies to try and cheer you up but when she sneaked in she stopped in her tracks. On your bed was you and Logan wrapped in each other's arms. Logan had you on his lap and he was whispering softly into your ears reassuring you for multiple things, everything that went wrong today he was trying to remind you was going to work out, that it was just one bad day and tomorrow will be better. He reminded you how much he loved you as his hands went up and down your spin soft and slowly. It was still the beginning of your relationship so no one really got to see you two super close like this and it made Marie's heart swell with happiness for her two favorite people. She quickly took a picture of you and sneaked away to go share the cookies with Kurt.

Moment 2.) You bandaging him up even though he heals.

Logan got home late, and his knuckles were blooded from the fight he had been in. You were already worried because he was home much later than he was supposed to be, but seeing him hurt sent you over. "Honey!" You move to him faster than he could try to stop you. You looked clearly in distress when you took notice of the injury, and even though he was trying to reassure you that he would heal just fine, you forced him to let you wash and disinfect his cuts. Marie got a quick video of you standing between Logan's legs as you put disinfectant on a cotton swap before muttering softly to him that it'll sting. The clip was short, but she was able to capture love behind Logans eyes as he looked at you even if he was shaking his head at your antics.

Moment 3.) Him cutting your food for you during family dinner.

Every Sunday, the entire group tries their best to all get together for dinner, it had been a few weeks since the last time it had been a successful gathering but this particular Sunday everyone was actually able to gather around the table. You had been the one who made the majority of the food, and as everyone began to eat, you were sitting next to Logan completely distracted by your conversation with Charles over the material you were planning on teaching. Logan turned to ask you a question when he took notice of you not eating. He switched plates with you and began to cut your food for you. After he had everything cut and divided into their own section so nothing was touching he switched plates again and tapped your shoulder to get your attention. You turned around, and he just nodded to your plate before beginning to eat himself. You smiled and picked up your fork, eating while carrying on with your conversation. The only people at the table who took notice of this moment was Charles, who gave you a knowing smile when you turned your attention back to him, and Marie who somehow was able to get the whole thing on camera.

Moment 4.) Him putting your hair up for you.

The next moment Rogue caught was actually on the same Sunday as the family dinner. You were in the midst of cooking when you started to get hot. You were asking around to see if any of the girls around had a hair tie or something you could use to put your hair up or at least away from your skin, and no one did. You admitted defeat and went back to cooking when Logan came up and gathered your hair for you before taking the scrunchie he carries on his wrist off and putting your hair up in a messy bun. He kissed your cheek and walked off, leaving you blushing and a bit frazzled before going to check on the potatoes. Marie couldn't believe her luck when she looked down at her camera and saw that she got a great photo of the act.

Moment 5.) You kissing his cheek with lipstick.

This moment was caught completely accidental, but it was one of Marie's favorites. You had just finished getting ready when you realized you were running late for a lunch date with old friends, as you rushed through the mansion you found Logan in the living talking to Marie and a few others you stood on your tip toes and kissed his cheek before saying goodbye and rushing out the door leaving behind a blushing Logan who had a bright red lipstick mark on his cheek, a mark he didn't wash off for a few hours claiming to everyone that he had "no idea" that you left make up on him.

Moment 6.) He carries your bags for you always.

Logan doesn't like going shopping, you however love it. It was a rare moment where all of you agreed to go to the mall, everyone but Logan agreed. You dragged him along from store to store and as you looked throughout the store he would look like he was living a nightmare but in reality he was the one who was finding everything you were wanting to try and find on your shopping spree that day. By the end of the trip, he was carrying six different bags and holding your hand. You had the biggest smile on your face, and Logan was walking with a sense of pride, knowing you were as happy as ever next to him.

As you finished going through the few moments she was able to capture on camera, Logan leaned over and kissed your head, and you started to tear up. There are dozens and dozens of more that occur everyday that she didn't capture, moments that the two of you share that no one will never see but these five moments that have been caught will be held close to your heart for the rest of time.

[hanniebaeee]

First Kiss

Best friend Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: Kissing, some suggestive content MDNI

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff

Summary: You've never kissed before and your best friend, Hyunjin shows you how to.

You and Hyunjin loved watching movies together. Both of you can't shut up for even a minute from start to end. You had way too many questions to ask and Hyunjin had way too many theories to share. Not to mention all the snacks.

This particular movie was going really well, until a romantic scene unfolds. The characters who have been at each other's throats the entire time were now kissing. And not just a kiss, a kiss that looked like the male lead was sucking the soul out of his lady.

You stole a glance at Hyunjin and saw that he had a small smile on his face. Your cheeks heat up as you wonder what this actually felt like, because, you've never kissed anyone before. Except for the boring cheek kisses or forehead kisses. You've never had your share of the real deal.

Before second-guessing yourself, you turn to Hyunjin and ask, 'What's it like to kiss someone?'

He turns to you, eyebrows raised, surprise flickering in his eyes.

'What do you mean?'

'I've never kissed anyone before. I was just wondering what it feels like...kissing someone.' You were already regretting this, because your neck and face and ears feel really hot with embarrassment.

Hyunjin's eyes widen, and he looks a bit surprised with this new piece of information.

'Are you serious? You've never kissed anyone before? Like really?' He asks, moving a bit closer.

You feel incredibly self-conscious now, and you shake your head, no.

He grins. He looks like a really handsome Cheshire Cat now, and says, 'Do you want to try it with me? Just so you know what it's like.'

Your heart skips a beat at his offer. He looks way too excited and eager for you to even consider saying no. Even though the thought of kissing Hyunjin was rather terrifying. Not that you never thought of it before - he does have the most beautiful lips in the world.

The intensity of his kiss made you dizzy, that you close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his soft wet lips on yours. When you finally pull back gasping for air, he's looking at you with a dark glimmer in his eyes.

So, naturally, you nod. And he doesn't waste a second. His eyes light up as he pulls you towards him, and onto his lap. You gasp in surprise, and before you could even react, his lips are on yours. He starts off slow and just takes your lower lip between his lips, and you try to follow his lead.

And then, there was a sense of urgency in the way his lips moved - like he was afraid that you'll pull away, so he has to get as much done as he possibly could. His hands held you firmly in place, one on your waist and the other cupping the back of your head.

'Is it always like this?' you ask breathlessly, your voice a bit shaky.

Hyunjin smiles and leans in, kissing you softly, his lips light and gentle against yours.

'It can be soft.' he murmurs against your lips.

Then, he kisses you with more force, knocking the air out of your lungs. His hands move down to your hips and he pulls you closer to him, and you can't ignore how hard he is under you. And all you did was kiss.

His lips move roughly against yours and when you think you can't take it anymore, he's pulling back, biting your lower lip seductively. This instantly sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you and you feel a flutter in your belly.

'It can be rough.' he says, his voice husky.

His lips are touching yours as he spoke and you love it a little too much. You definitely want more and the way he's looking at you shows that he wants more too.

'And it can also be full of love.' he whispered softly, a smile pulling at his lips. 'Because I love you.'

You are leaning in, and he's kissing you again, this time his tongue moving along the inside of your lower lip, and he grips at you hip a little harder, making you gasp. And, he slips his tongue into your mouth. You're pulling him closer, and he keeps kissing you, your tongues brushing in a beautiful dance. This goes on for God knows how long, because when you pull back, you're nearly dying for more.

Your heart leapt and you thought it would jump out of your mouth. You have always loved Hyunjin, he was your person, your everything. And hearing him say this made you so happy, you wanted to cry.

You love this, this feels just right - you and him. His places open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck, his warm breath fanning your skin, and making you shiver.

He saw you struggling with your emotions, a tear trickling down your cheek. He is quickly wiping it away, his eyes sparkling with joy.

'I love you too, Hyunjinnie.' You mumble, and he pulls you into another kiss, this one, slow and sweet. You moan into the kiss, and shift on his lap. He moans in response, his hands sliding down to rest on your butt. You giggle into the kiss and he's laughing too.

The movie continued to play in the background, completely forgotten, as Hyunjin kissed you to heaven and back.

[stunie]

OASIS IN SPACE! — sfw ﾉ first time meeting ﾉ umemiya hajime x shy!f!reader ﾉ entry for @interstellar-inn’s help wanted collab ^ ^ <3

Taking the ticketing position at your local planetarium seemed like a good idea until you found out you’d be thrown into your first shift with essentially zero training. Your only chance at having anything remotely close to a successful first day is to swallow your nerves and just ask the 6’2 usher for some help!

“Excuse me… is this where we scan tickets?”

If the man you’re trying to talk to hears you, he doesn’t respond. You clear your throat— as quietly as you can to avoid disrupting what you assume is the planetarium show’s usher crouched down in front of you.

He looks pretty from behind, and it takes a forced blink or two to stop staring at the way the muscles of his back bulge against his shirt with each little movement he makes.

You think he looks around your age too.

The way his body also blocks the only entrance to the planetarium— which is where you think you’d probably need to be— doesn’t really help your situation much either.

“Um…” you hesitate a bit, heartbeat suddenly much louder in your head when you try and muster all the courage inside you to lightly poke his shoulder— except he doesn’t seem to notice that either.

There’s a moment of silence that feels much longer in your head before you’re suddenly jolting back when the sound of his gasp reaches you. “I love this song!” You hear him say to himself before he starts humming a cheerful tune, head nodding up and down as he goes back to work, rummaging through the box in front of him.

He hasn’t even acknowledged you yet, and you already felt like you were a bother. A part of you wishes you had just begged your boss for clearer instructions earlier, but it was too late for that now.

“Excuse me…” You try and raise your voice and jab your finger a little harder into his shoulder this time, and he finally gasps. Loudly. The sound of his voice has you stumbling back a couple steps, the back of your hand flying to cover your mouth, and you feel no different from a deer caught in headlights.

“Eh?!” He’s jerking upright before he turns to look at you, and you’re frozen in place. “You scared me! How long have you been there?” He starts laughing, “You’d do pretty good in a ghost movie, huh? What a skill to have.”

Your first thought is that his eyes look kind.

Your second thought was that your day wasn’t as unlucky as you thought. Umemiya Hajime— you later learned that this was his name— was more than happy to lead you to your table while going over what the other ticketing hires usually did for shifts like these.

It sounded simple enough in your head. Just point your scanner at the tickets and welcome the visitors, right?

He stays by your side the entire time, and you’re too focused on making sure your voice comes out loud enough that you miss the way his eyes soften each time you greet a visitor, lips tugging into a small smile. You were just way too cute like that.

The shift seems to fly by once you get the hang of the angle you need to point the scanner at, and you start catching onto just how many times the two of you seemed to make eye contact within the last few minutes. Each one has your cheeks heating up a little more than the last, and you’re sure he notices from the way his eyes linger on you even after you turn away.

You reach your breaking point when your scanner flashes red at the last guest, “error!” displayed across the entire screen, and you can practically feel the sweat forming on your temples. Why wouldn’t this one read?

Of course it was the last guest in line too.

Your mind starts to race as you stand up to get a better look their ticket, the person in front of you furrowing their eyes a bit at your obvious confusion. You’re only a second away from mumbling a string of apologies before you feel Umemiya’s chest suddenly press against your back, strong hands caging you against the table as he takes a look at his ticket for you.

If you weren’t feeling hot before, you were now.

“Ah! You’re showing the receipt, sir. There’s a second ticket you have with the scannable part.”

He laughs when the guest starts chuckling sheepishly, but he doesn’t miss the way you awkwardly chuckle and fiddle with the device. It’s okay, he thinks, you wouldn’t have known that on your first shift anyway.

You stiffen as soon as you feel his hand wrapping over the one you’re using to hold the scanner, easily enveloping your own as he raises it up to try again, and you briefly wonder if the darkness in the room is enough to hide the expression you’ve got on your face.

The remaining bit of your shift goes smoothly at least, minus the way you’ve been doing everything in your power to avoid making eye contact with Umemiya again. You can feel him still smiling at you, probably oblivious to the events of earlier, and that makes it even worse.

“We should watch the planetarium show together!”

The way you immediately perk up is enough of an answer for him. “Mhm,” He’s answering the question that pops up in your head, “They’ll let us. Though… they usually want you to stay here a few minutes into the show to wait for the latecomers.”

The way your lips puff out into a pout is just too cute.

“Don’t worry— hey, don’t frown like that. I was planning on saving you a seat, so look for me when you come in, okay? I have white hair!” He points to his head with a big grin.

“…I know you have white hair.” You plop back into your seat with a huff, turning away from him to hide the heat flooding back into your cheeks. His smile just.. does that to you. Watching an entire show beside him seemed a little too good to be true too.

Maybe you did feel a little giddy about it.

Your eyes widen as soon as you feel his hand land on your head, patting you a couple of times with a loud laugh and a “See you there, yeah?” before he leaves you all alone in the lobby, your ears smoking with heat and heart now thumping loudly against your ribcage.

[tonyspank]

WH0 R U 2???

Summary: Tara wakes up at her attractive Professor’s home.

Warnings: 18+ smut, g!p reader (literally think r is a service top??? idk? sorry for the dom’s & subs 😭)

A/N: pt.3 will not but smutty but bloody (there are different ghostfaces who r y’all suspecting?) also the smut scene was inspired by my b-day gift @wol-fica i love u

part 1

Tara woke up with the world's biggest headache. When she sat up in the random bed she had just awakened in, she realized she was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were white, with some paintings here and there, and the room was filled with a faint scent of lavender.

Tara left the bed, her head pounding with each step she took. She stumbled towards the door, trying to remember how she ended up in this strange place.

As she makes her way down the hallway, coffee begins to fill her nostrils. She follows the scent and finds herself in a cozy kitchen, where a pot of freshly brewed coffee sits on the counter. "You're awake, a voice says from behind her.

Startled, Tara turns around to see her professor, and suddenly, all of her memories rush back to her.

"Leaving already?" Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow. Tara hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She just nods, "Yeah, my... my rides here." Frankie keeps his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Tara can feel the weight of his scrutiny, making her even more uncomfortable.

"Oh damn, well, let me walk you out." Frankie offers, breaking the silence. Tara's heart races as they make their way towards the exit, unsure of what's going on. It was obvious Frankie wanted to get into her pants; he'd been following her the entire night.

You notice Tara at the exit, looking slightly flustered and uneasy. You quickly exit your car and walk to her. "You're her ride?" A brown-haired boy asks you.

"Yeah, I'm her ride," you confirm, giving the boy a curious look. The brown-haired boy gives you a skeptical look before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to approach Tara. As you reach her side, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her discomfort.

Tara's eyes drop to your attire, taking in your sleepwear. A wife-beater and black boxers that matched your black Nike socks. You notice this, "Sorry, I just woke up about five minutes ago."

"All good...Professor." Tara smiles. You shake your head, "Y/N is just fine. You're in my kitchen, after all. No need for formalities." Tara blushes and nods, "Right, sorry. Y/N it is then."

You chuckle softly, "No need to apologize, Tara. Can I offer you some coffee?" Tara gratefully accepts the offer, "I could definitely use a cup. Thank you, Y/N." She takes a seat at the kitchen table as you start pouring a fresh cup of coffee.

"Do you need me to drop you off?" Tara tries to take a sip of her coffee, but it's too hot, causing her to wince in pain spilling a bit on her hand. "Shit! That's hot!" Tara exclaims, quickly pulling her hand away from the cup. You rush to grab a napkin, softly grasping her hand and gently wiping away the spilled coffee.

"But, um, yeah, I'd love a ride if you don't mind," Tara mutters, ignoring the fluttering of her heart as you touch her hand. She tries to hide her blush by taking a deep breath and looking away, but the warmth of your touch lingers.

"Of course." Your phone begins ringing, interrupting the moment. You quickly apologize and grab your phone from the kitchen counter. You answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. A deep voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Y/N." You scratch your head, trying to place the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place it.

The voice clears its throat, and your ear is soon filled with Laura's laugh. "Haven't you watched Stab?"

"Ohhh! Yeah, I just did yesterday." You chuckle, realizing that the deep voice was an imitation of a character from the movie. "How's your mom? She doing better?"

Laura's laughter subsides as she replies, "She's slowly recovering, thanks for asking. The doctors say she should be back on her feet in a few weeks." You feel relieved to hear the positive update about Laura's mom and express your well wishes for her continued recovery.

"Anywho! I was just calling because I wanted to know how your first lecture was. Did everyone behave?"

You chuckle and respond, "Well, it was definitely an interesting experience. The students were well-behaved, and I was actually surprised by their level of engagement. It seems like they're all eager to learn and participate in class discussions."

Laura hums over the phone, "Are you sure you're talking about my students?" You laugh and say, "Seriously. They were great." Laura pauses for a moment before replying, "That's good...I have to go now, take care, Y/N."

You bid Laura farewell and promise to keep her updated on any future classroom developments. Tara speaks up when you set down your phone, "Was that Professor Crane?" You nod and say, "Yes, it was. She was just checking in on you guys."

Tara nods, taking a sip of her now slightly cooled-down coffee. "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be back in a bit. Let me know whenever you're ready to leave."

"Wait, uh, do you know where my phone is?" Tara asks, glancing around the room. You remember plugging it up near the kitchen counter when you arrived home yesterday.

You point towards the kitchen counter and say, "I think it's over there, by the sink." Tara thanks you and heads towards the kitchen to retrieve it, but her head turns as she watches you leave the room, pulling your tank top over your head, revealing your toned back.

Blushing slightly, Tara quickly averts her gaze and focuses on finding her phone.

When Tara finally finds her phone, she realizes that she has missed several calls and messages, mostly from Sam.

But her heart truly drops when she realizes your name is at the top of her messages, remembering that she did indeed text you drunk the previous night.

Tara's mind races as she tries to recall what she said, hoping she hasn't embarrassed herself or said anything inappropriate. "You've got to be kidding me."

Tara mutters under her breath, scrolling through her messages with you. This was so embarrassing, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get so out of control.

"The hot professor whose filling in for Ms.Crane? What the fuck?" Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she reads her own words. She had confessed her attraction to her substitute professor, not realizing how much she had revealed in her drunken state. Panic sets in as she wonders what your reaction to the message might have been.

Tara's phone dings, indicating a new message.

Mindy: Tara where the hell r u?

Mindy:  Sam is literally is losing her marbles

Shit.

Tara: im about to leave in about 15 minutes

Mindy: that didn't answer my question lollll

Tara: just tell sam im on the way

Mindy: omg you're at professor y/ln's house

Tara's heart races as she reads Mindy's message. How did Mindy know she was at your house? She quickly types a response, trying to come up with something to get Mindy off her back. 

Tara: wtf? no?

Tara: ill ttyl

-

The next couple of months consisted of Tara staying back after every lecture to talk to you. Now, you didn't exactly mind, but it did make you wonder why she was suddenly so interested in your company. Tara wouldn't talk about her studies, rather, she would ask you about your personal life, your hobbies, and your opinions on various topics.

Or whenever you'd be leaving campus or just arriving, Tara would leave her friends, jog over to you, and strike up a conversation. It seemed like she always found a reason to be near you, whether it was wanting to walk together or simply to share a funny story. Her genuine interest in getting to know you better was both flattering and intriguing.

"That's all for today, guys." You tell the class, packing up your things. Everyone begins leaving—well, everyone except for Tara. You shuffle your papers together, double-checking that you have everything, before looking up to find Tara still standing by your desk.

"Did you watch The Hereditary?" She had mentioned the movie a few times before, and you could tell she really wanted you to watch it. You smile and reply, "Yes, I did! Scared the shit out of me."

Tara laughs, "I thought you said you liked scary movies?" You begin walking toward the door. "I do!"

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Tara asks, genuinely curious. You pause for a moment, thinking of all the horror films you've seen over the years. "Hmm, that's a tough one," you say, pondering. "Maybe Chucky."

"You're joking," Tara says, raising an eyebrow. "Chucky? The killer doll? That's more of a cheesy horror movie than a scary one." You shrug and defend your choice. "Well, it scared me when I was younger. Plus, it has that nostalgic factor for me."

Tara chuckles and shakes her head playfully, saying, "Alright, if you say so. But I'll have to introduce you to some truly terrifying films one day."

You smile, holding the door open for the shorter girl. "Sure, T." Tara ignores the fluttering in her stomach at the nickname, striking up another conversation. "You heading home?"

You nod and reply, "Yeah, I was planning on making this salmon dish I found a recipe for. The sauce is supposed to be really flavorful, and I've been craving seafood lately." Tara hums, "Sounds fun."

You pause your walk, making eye contact with your student. "Maybe you could come...?"

Tara's eyes widen with surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a plan," she says, "What time?"

You check your watch and say, "How about around 7 p.m.? That should give me enough time to prepare everything." Tara nods eagerly, "Okay." You thank her and continue walking, "See you, T."

-

You were more than tipsy, this might have been the most fun you've had in a while. "I feel like a bad influence." You joke to Tara, pouring her another glass of wine. Tara laughs, "You're a perfect influence. You know how to have a good time."

You shake your head, standing up. "You can sit in the living room, I'm just gonna clear the table." Tara smiles and takes a sip of her wine. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you clean up."

Tara sets down her glass, standing up and helping you gather the dirty dishes and leftover food. Everything about this feels so domestic like you two are a married couple tidying up after a dinner party.

You start washing the dishes while Tara dries them and puts them away. The conversation flows effortlessly, making the task feel less like a chore and more like a shared experience.

On the last plate, you splash some soapy water onto Tara's shirt, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. "Oops, sorry about that!" you jokingly apologize, grinning mischievously.

Tara playfully flicks some water back at you, making you let out a laugh. "Oh, it's on now!" you exclaim, grabbing a nearby dish towel and flicking it towards Tara.

Tara runs out of the kitchen, laughing and dodging the dish towel, her wet shirt clinging to her as she goes. You turn off the water and chase after her, determined to catch her. While you reach the living room, Tara takes a sharp turn, causing you to stumble for a moment.

You quickly regain your balance and continue the chase, both of you enjoying the playful pursuit.

"I give up!" Tara calls out, breathless and giggling, as she collapses onto the couch. You slow down and join her, catching your breath and collapsing beside her.

You glance at her shirt, "Do you want one of my shirts?" Tara looks down at her damp shirt and shakes her head, still catching her breath. "No, I think I'll be fine," she replies with a smile.

Your eyes fall back on Tara, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly disheveled from the chase. You know you shouldn't be thinking about your student in this way, but it's hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.

You're caught up in your thoughts, you don't even notice how your body is subconsciously scooting closer to her, until your knees are almost touching. The air between you feels charged with tension, and you can't help but wonder if she feels it too.

A part of you wants to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but professional boundaries hold you back.

Tara turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you both share a knowing smile. Fuck, why did she have to look at you like that?

The intensity of the moment lingers, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You find yourself questioning the consequences of acting on this undeniable connection.

Tara leans in, and you follow behind slowly. You don't notice what you're doing until your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

Tara parts her lips slightly, her warm breath tickling your skin. You place a hand on her leg, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a passionate and electrifying kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.

You place your hand on Tara's waist, pulling her closer to you and allowing her to straddle you. Tara can't help but respond, her hands finding their way to your hair as she pulls you in even closer.

When you pull away, your heart is racing as if you had just run a marathon. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but in that moment, it felt so right. The chemistry between you and Tara was undeniable, and the desire for each other was too strong to resist.

Your hand rises to Tara's face, your thumb tracing over her soft, plump lips. She closes her eyes, and a moan escapes her mouth. You kiss her lightly, your tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. She responds with a slow, passionate kiss, her lips trembling as you pull away.

"Please," she mumbles, grinding her hips against yours. "Fuck, T." What was this girl doing to you? Without hesitation, you capture her lips once more, this time with an electrifying fervor that leaves you both breathless. In that moment, you knew that there was no going back, you were stuck under her spell.

Your hands slither under her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly, encouraging you to continue your exploration, and you do.

Skillfully, you unclasp her bra, and your fingers trace the outline of her breasts, teasing and caressing every inch of her sensitive skin. She arches her back, pressing herself closer to you, craving more of your touch.

You lift her shirt, revealing her bare chest, and your lips eagerly find their way to her exposed skin. The taste of her drives you wild, and you lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sweet and intoxicating sensation.

Your hands fly back to her waist, lifting her slightly as your lips trail to her stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way.

She lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she surrenders to the pleasure coursing through her body. Tara's breath hitches when you stand up, picking her up with ease. You carry her effortlessly to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around your waist, her body pressed against yours.

One thing is, you don't make it to the bed. Tara's back is now pressed against a wall, her heart pounding in her chest. You lean in closer, capturing her lips with yours as your hands roam over her body. You couldn't get enough.

You flip Tara, pressing her against the wall with a newfound intensity. Tara gasp, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling your strong grip on her hips and your lips trailing down her neck.

Your hands trail to her jeans button, fumbling to undo it as the passion between you increases. Tara's breath hitches as you slide down her pants, along with her underwear, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.

Without hesitating, you drop to your knees, eager to taste her. A loud slap is heard, followed by a gasp of surprise. Tara bites down on her lip, balling up her fist against the wall, feeling you spread her legs for better access.

You lean in closer, your tongue teasing her entrance as Tara's moans fill the room. Oh, shit. You were officially addicted to this girl. Every touch and every sound she made only fueled your obsession for her.

You couldn't get enough of the way she responded to your touch, her body arching and trembling with pleasure. Or the way she tasted, leaving a permanent mark on your tongue.

"Fuck..." Tara gasps, the side of her face flat against the wall as her hips buck against your mouth. You remove one of your hands from her ass, holding her hips steady as you continue to devour her.

Tara whines in response, reaching behind to tangle her fingers in your hair, urging you to keep going. Her moans grow louder, and her grip tightens. "I'm so close, shit..."

You intensify your movements, your tongue skillfully exploring every inch of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Tara's breath becomes ragged, you grip her with greater force, and she becomes more and more undone, on the brink of exploding in pleasure.

And just as she's about to tip over the edge, she lets out a guttural cry, her body convulsing in ecstasy.

"Y/N! Shit!"

You stand up, and Tara catches her breath, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.

While Tara attempts to compose herself, you unbuckle your belt and slowly remove your pants and underwear, revealing your own heightened state of arousal.

Tara's eyes widen when she feels your intense desire pressing against her. You press a kiss onto her head, whispering, "I need you, Tara."

Tara turns her head, meeting you with a lustful gaze. Her lips parted slightly as she whispers, "I want you too, Y/N." You place a soft kiss on the freckled face that you've come to adore before taking yourself, rubbing against her in a slow, teasing motion.

Tara's wetness lubricates you, allowing you to slip right in with a breathful gasp. As you enter her, Tara arches her back and lets out a low moan, her body responding eagerly to your touch.

The feeling of her tightness around you heightens the nirvana, driving you both insane.

You pick up the pace, your hips meeting hers in a delicious rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies—a symphony of desire and passion.

Tara's arm reaches around, her nails dig into your neck while her moans grow louder and more desperate with every movement.

Tara's hand falls back against the wall as she braces herself against the overwhelming pleasure. Your own hand falls on top of hers, and for a second, Tara finds herself caught between the intensified sensations and the tender touch of your hand.

She exhales a breath of pleasure, and her eyes roll back in pleasure. You lean in to kiss her neck, and she moans in response. You move your lips down to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin. "You feel so good, T." You groan, your voice thick with please.

This time, without warning, Tara lets go, a long and loud moan escaping her lips as she arches her back in ecstasy.

She collapses against your chest, her eyes half closed, catching her breath as her body trembles with satisfaction. You hold her tightly, savoring the intimate moment shared between you both.

As you slowly untangle yourselves from the intimate embrace, Tara wraps her arms around your neck and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

You smile into it, placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The lingering taste of her lips lingers on yours, igniting a drive for more.

Tara moves onto her knees with your help, never breaking eye contact. Her hand wraps around your pulsating shaft before she kisses the tip, her tongue swirling around it.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly. You grab Tara's hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper into her mouth. "That feels great, shit..." you mutter, throwing your head back.

Tara's expert tongue continues to work its wonders, teasing and exploring every inch of you.

You begin moving your hips in rhythm with Tara's movements, finding a steady and pleasurable pace.

The hallway fills with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet, persistent slurping of Tara's mouth. "Yeah...just like that, Tara."

Your grip on her hair tightens, urging her on as she eagerly takes you deeper, her eyes watering at the sensation. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

Tara can't help but think about how this night will shift your relationship. She wonders if this newfound intimacy will bring you closer or create complications that she didn't want to deal with. As you catch your breath, Tara's thoughts wander to the potential consequences of crossing this line.

[trueebeauty]

"𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎" -gun, goo, james lee.

𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊

Never in a million years would you have thought that today would be the day you see Gun so calm.

He's calm all the time when he's with you, but this one is quite different.

It was a rainy day today, and the two of you were on the couch, absentmindedly watching a movie together.

Though you were too busy cutting Gun's fingernails, all because you claimed they were getting too long.

Surprisingly, Gun actually took better care of himself than you would've thought. (Gun was offended)

His hands, although rough and calloused, were always clean, and so were his nails.

"I'm done," you muttered as you clipped off the last remaining fingernail.

Turning to face a stoic Gun, "Do you not like it shorter?" you asked, tilting your head.

"I don't care for it," Gun responded, typical.

You looked at his trimmed hands again, admiring his hands for a second as you caressed them.

Gun's fingers intertwined with yours, and he pulled you closer, "What is it?" he murmured, his voice low and gentle.

You gazed into his eyes, captivated by the tenderness you found there. "Nothing," you replied with a soft smile, “Just admiring you."

Gun's expression softened before he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You're one to talk," he said, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. 

A shiver ran down your spine at the simple yet intimate gesture, and you found yourself leaning in closer, drawn to the warmth of his embrace. 

The movie long forgotten, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other's presence, the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows providing a soothing backdrop.

Tentatively, you reached up too, tracing Gun's face with your fingertips, committing everything to your memory. His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, and you admired how someone so strong and scary could also be so gentle and vulnerable in your arms.

Gun's hand found its way to the nape of your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw, and you felt yourself melting into his touch. With a featherlight tug, he guided you closer, your foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but you heard it.

Thinking you imagined it, you look at him in disbelief, "What?"

Gun's eyes locked with yours, and you saw a vulnerability there that you had never witnessed before. He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and repeated, "I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, spreading through your entire being. You searched Gun's face, looking for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty, but found none.

"I..." you started, your voice catching in your throat. You had dreamed of hearing those words from Gun countless times, but now that the moment was here, you found yourself at a loss for words.

Gun reached out, his calloused fingers gently caressing your cheek. "You don't have to say anything," he said softly. "I just needed you to know."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as a thousand emotions washed over you. Love, joy, relief, and a tiny spark of fear – fear that this might all be a dream, and you would wake up to find it was never real.

But as you opened your eyes and gazed into Gun's gaze, you knew this was no dream. This was real, and it was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

“I love you, too.”

“I know,” he teased, bringing your hand to his lips and planting a featherlight kiss on your hand.

𝐆𝐎𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐌

You've known Goo for basically your entire life. You grew up together, took martial arts together, graduated together, went to the same schools, studied together, walked together, shopped together, ate together, and even took baths together.

There was never a day where you two were apart... well, that was until he met this strange one-armed man.

Suddenly it became, "I'm going to be late, so eat without me."

"I can't, I have to go return something," he'd shout before closing the door.

Then he started coming home bruised, specks of blood on his clothes, a cut here and there.

"Goo, what the hell happened?"

"Ah, didn't know you were up. Just almost got robbed..."

"Robbed? By who? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a homeless man."

But one thing Goo didn't know is that you could tell when he lied - he smiled wide, too wide. You don't even know if he was aware of this tell himself, but you sure as hell were.

Even if you didn't recognize his lying smile, he was just too obvious. A homeless man? Robbed? Goo Kim? Only an idiot would believe him.

It didn't make the constant lies to your face any better. It just hurt.

Hurt knowing that he didn't trust you, didn't confide in you, left you behind for who knows what shady business. 

And he acted as if everything was normal.

You had reached your limit.

After an awkward silence, you finally spoke up. "Aren't you going to tell me what's wrong?" Goo said, frustration evident in his voice.

"I-I didn't actually expect you to come," you admitted nervously.

"What do you mean? You said you were in danger–" Goo paused, realization dawning on him. "Oh."

"Yep. Now that you're here, we need to talk about a lot of things— where are you going?" you asked, seeing Goo head towards the door.

"Out," he replied curtly, reaching for the doorknob.

You immediately blocked the door. "Out where?"

"Out to get some air," Goo said dismissively, trying to downplay the situation.

"We're not done here. You can't just show up and then leave."

Goo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I’m late."

"Late for what?" you insisted, your voice rising.

Seeing Goo go silent, you continued, "You’ve been like this for months now. I waited for you to explain, but you never did."

Goo opened his mouth to respond, but you kept talking, the words tumbling out rapidly. “So tell me what is going on right now, or I swear I will–”

Before you could continue, Goo stepped closer and gently placed his finger over your lips, hushing you. His eyes locked with yours, and you fell silent.

“Or you will what?” Goo asked.

You slapped his arm away. “I’ll do something really bad,” you said.

Goo rolled his eyes. “Like what?”

As soon as he said that, he felt a burning pain between his legs and collapsed to the ground, breathless and numb.

“That,” you said, a smile on your face.

“Owww,” Goo whined, starting his dramatics.

Rolling your eyes, you sat on the floor next to him, side-eyeing him as he rolled around. Having enough, you grabbed his hair and made him face you. “Tell me,” you said.

"I love you."

You froze, heart pounding at Goo's confession. He took the moment to gently remove your grip and pull you down to lay beside him, never letting go of your hand.

Your hand trembled in his grasp.

"I want to tell you everything, but it's dangerous. I don't want them to find out about you," Goo continued, his voice calm.

"W-who's them?" you asked hesitantly, anxiety creeping in.

"Bad people," he replied vaguely.

"Who are the bad people?" you pressed.

"Evil people," Goo said simply.

Rolling your eyes, you turned to face him, your noses almost touching. "You're being very vague."

A small smile played across his lips. "I want to be."

You frowned. "So you'll never tell me the full truth?"

"I will, just not right now. It's better if you can enjoy your life without this weighing on you," he said, tenderly brushing a stray hair from your face.

"And what about you? Will you be able to enjoy your life?" The thought of Goo suffering alone made your chest ache.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," he assured you, though his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

"That just makes me worry more," you confessed, holding his gaze imploringly.

Goo let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, truly. I hate keeping things from you..."

You both laid there in silence for a few moments as Goo's thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, a tender gesture that didn't quite ease the ache in your heart.

Finally, you took a deep breath and met his gaze again. "I don't like this, keeping secrets from each other," you said quietly but firmly.

"Doesn't feel right after everything we've been through together."

"Believe me, I hate it too. More than anything, I want to be fully open with you." He brought your entwined hands up, pressing his lips to your knuckles.

"But some truths are better left unsaid, at least for now, to keep you safe."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he gently shushed you again. "I'm not in any immediate danger, I promise. This is more about protecting your peace of mind."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you reluctantly nodded. As much as it pained you, you knew you had to trust Goo's judgment on this.

"Just...promise me one thing?" you asked, your eyes pleading.

"Anything," he replied without hesitation.

"Don't shut me out completely," you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I need you, even if I can't know every detail right now. We're partners, right?"

Goo's features softened, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. "Always, I'm not going anywhere. I'll tell you what I can."

It wasn't a perfect solution, but for now, it would have to be enough. You nuzzled closer, letting the solidity of his embrace ease your worries, if only temporarily.

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐄

You sat on the balcony's doorstep, watching the storm and pretty city lights. The rain pattered against the concrete, and flashes of lightning illuminated the skyline, casting a glow over the buildings. 

You enjoyed the quietness and peacefulness, but you felt empty inside, a hollowness that couldn't be filled by the beauty surrounding you.

As the wind picked up, sending a chill through your body, you gazed out into the night, lost in thought. Suddenly, you felt the warmth of a blanket being draped over your shoulders. 

Before you had a chance to turn around, a familiar figure sat behind you, their arms encircling you, holding you close. All at once, you felt a comforting warmth envelop you, and you knew exactly who it was.

In that moment, the emptiness disappeared, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging. 

You leaned back into his embrace, letting the sound of his steady breathing and the rain calm you, "When did you get home?" you whispered, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.

You felt him move, his lips brushing against the crook of your neck as he placed a tender kiss there. "A few seconds ago, I was looking for you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

Melting into his arms, you sighed contentedly. "I didn't hear you," you admitted.

He chuckled softly, the vibration resonating through his chest and into your back. "You seemed lost in thought," he said, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly. "What's on your mind?"

Turning your head, you met his gaze, those eyes that always seemed to peer straight into your soul. "Nothing in particular," you replied, offering him a small smile. "Just enjoying the view."

His thumb traced gentle circles on your arm as he studied your face, a tender expression on his own. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" he said, his tone laced with concern.

Nodding, you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, a soft, reassuring kiss. "I know," you whispered, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders in his presence.  

He pulled you closer, his arms a comforting anchor, and asked, "Have you eaten anything today?"

A chuckle escaped your lips at his concern. "I should be asking you that. I know they don't really care about anything other than if you're pretty and scandal-free," you teased lightly as you flicked his pink hair in his face.

Shaking his head with a laugh, he pressed a kiss to your temple. "You know me too well," he murmured against your skin. "But I'm more worried about you. You tend to forget about taking care of yourself when you get lost in that beautiful mind of yours."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't deny the truth in his words. "Alright, alright, you've caught me," you conceded, turning in his embrace to face him properly. "I may have skipped a meal or two today, but only because I was so absorbed in my writing."

His brow furrowed in that adorable way it did when he was concerned for you, and you reached up to smooth away the crease with your fingertips. "Promise me you'll eat something soon?" he urged, capturing your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Gazing into his eyes, you were struck once again by the depth of his love and devotion, you didn’t know how you got so lucky. "Only if you promise to do the same," you countered with a soft smile. "Deal?"

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he returned your smile, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. "Deal," he agreed, sealing the promise with a tender kiss that made your heart flutter.

You both pulled away from the kiss, slightly dazed and breathless. As you gazed into his eyes, filled with so much adoration, the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. 

"I love you, James."

A look of surprise flashed across his face for the briefest of moments before melting into an expression of pure joy. 

His eyes crinkled at the corners as a smile spread across his lips. "And I love you," he murmured, cradling your face in his hands. 

Leaning his forehead against yours, he let out a contented sigh, “More than you could ever imagine."

[navybrat817]

Can lumberjack Bucky take care of me?

Yes, nonnie.

To-Do List

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shares a list of things to do with you when you wake up. Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Fluff, pet names, talk of sex, light humor, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: More Burly and Bambi . @tavners, can we manifest this? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s spot on the bed beside you is cool when you wake up and reach for him, seeking out his warmth. You don’t want to start the day cold.

But he’s back in the bedroom before you can get up to look for him, a tray in his hands and a smile on his face as you yawn.

The shirtless sight of your burly man is enough to chase any lingering tiredness away.

“Wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, Bambi,” he says as he sets the tray over you and lets you look over the feast he prepared. “You drooling over the food or me?” he teases.

You wipe at your chin, thinking for a moment that you did drool. “Both,” you smile, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear once he gets back in bed. “What’s the occasion?”

It isn't your birthday and or anniversary. No reason to celebrate anything.

“No reason at all, darling,” he answers, sincerity in his bright eyes before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Just want to take care of you.”

Your heart flutters because no other guy had ever done anything for you just because they wanted to. “You take very good care of me,” you promise, feeding him a bite.

You watch him lick his lips after his bite, your heart fluttering for an entirely different reason. “This is just a start,” he says, feeding you a bite in return.

You would never turn down his cooking or him feeding you.

“What else could you possibly have planned? You have to work.”

“No work today,” he replies, nodding to a small piece of paper beside the plate.

A smile spreads across your face due to the impromptu day off before you pick up the sheet and scan it, recognizing his handwriting. “‘Burly and Bambi’s To Do List’,” you announce as he chuckles. “Breakfast in bed.”

“Check,” he smiles, feeding you another bite.

“Cuddle in bed,” you continue.

“After breakfast.”

A giggle bubbles up when you read the next thing on the list. “This just says ‘Each other’,” you state, which you would happily help him cross off.

He puts a hand on his chest when you laugh more. “Are you making fun of my list? You wound me.”

“I’m not,” you promise. Any excuse to do your lumberjack, you’ll take it.

“Good. Because I have us doing each other as number 6,” he smirks, your throat dry when his gaze falls to your chest. “And 9.”

You laugh all over again, careful not to shake the tray. “6 and 9? 69? Really?”

“It’s a good number,” he says nonchalantly. “And as your personal lumberjack, I’ll also be happy to split you in half.”

It’s a tempting offer and you’ll take him up on it. “After we eat.”

“Good idea,” he agrees, popping a bite of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You need your strength.”

“Cocky,” you whisper, but he’s right. You do need your strength because he’s insatiable. “You also have watch a movie together and snuggle with a blanket under the stars.”

“I’ll keep you nice and warm,” he promises, gesturing to the sheet. “Flip it over.”

You’re not sure how you manage to hold back tears as you read it, falling more in love with Bucky as you read out loud, “Tell Bambi how much I love her every day.”

He grasps your chin so you can’t hide your face. “I love you, Bambi,” he whispers, pressing his soft lips against yours.

You ask yourself how you’re lucky enough to be his girl as you kiss him back. “I love you, too, Burly.”

And you would tell him every day, too.

These two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[staytheword]

on my mind

on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]

• han jisung x female reader.

• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.

• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.

• word count: 8.6k

You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.

• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡

You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips. 

You can’t do this anymore. 

You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.

Or you’re going to try. 

It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.

“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty. 

Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?” 

At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this. 

You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him. 

Almost. 

You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones. 

But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies. 

We get through this together, you said.

Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours. 

Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.” 

“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 

You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.” 

With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt. 

You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly. 

You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly. 

“Shit, what time is it?” 

It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?” 

“R-right. Yeah. Okay.” 

You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot. 

“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen. 

He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue. 

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island. 

There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television. 

Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl. 

“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.” 

Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”

“Yes, please.” 

He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh. 

A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours? 

You should study again after this.

Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.

You’re wasting valuable time. 

You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands. 

When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance. 

“Thanks.” 

You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that. 

Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back. 

“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.” 

You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed. 

“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.” 

“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…” 

“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.” 

You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch. 

“Sit down, please.” 

His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest. 

“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?” 

You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing. 

“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.” 

He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.” 

“What do you suggest, then?” 

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch. 

“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.” 

When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues. 

“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.” 

That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.” 

“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.” 

You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night. 

“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?” 

You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his. 

“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.” 

Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm. 

“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.” 

“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head. 

You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you. 

“You want to join?” 

Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it. 

Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie. 

The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other. 

“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”

“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”

He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand. 

“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.” 

“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.” 

“Sounds good.” 

You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s. 

At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head. 

“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs. 

You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.” 

“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…” 

He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?” 

“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.” 

“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously. 

You could swear he is blushing. 

“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.” 

“I like the idea,” you smile. 

Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh. 

“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.” 

Jisung arches an eyebrow. 

“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.” 

“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”

“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.” 

“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.” 

“She was a bitch,” you point out. 

Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.” 

“That’s not exactly true.” 

“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?” 

You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.” 

You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.” 

“How can you not be a massage person?!” 

You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause. 

“Ji, this isn’t working.” 

He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…” 

“We need something more drastic.” 

He gives you a little nod, and you squint. 

“What was the idea you had earlier?” 

His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?” 

“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.” 

And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.” 

You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.” 

He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest. 

Jisung breathes deeply. 

“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…” 

“Yes?” you encourage him. 

“I jerk off.” 

You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense. 

“Oh,” you breathe out.

“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -” 

“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass. 

You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?

Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?” 

“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.” 

He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment. 

“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously. 

He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even. 

“I mean, if you want some time alone…” 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?” 

You nod. “Yeah, why?” 

“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.” 

It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly. 

“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice. 

“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.” 

There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking. 

Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?” 

Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes. 

“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds. 

You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now. 

“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”

“Okay,” you whisper. 

Jisung looks at you. “R-really?” 

“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.” 

You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.

“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…” 

“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead. 

You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. 

“Just say it,” he sighs. 

“I heard you that time.” 

Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking. 

“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -” 

“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…” 

“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.” 

Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?” 

“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.” 

Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.” 

“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?” 

“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.” 

You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage. 

Jisung is observing his nails very carefully. 

“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.

Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness. 

“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.

For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard. 

“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.

“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”

“Sure,” Jisung breathes. 

It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen. 

“What?” 

“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.

“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.” 

“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…” 

“Ugh, tell me about it.” 

You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably. 

A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh. 

“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says. 

You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.” 

Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy. 

“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.” 

“O-okay.” 

Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch  next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju. 

It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other. 

Oh, God. 

Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.

Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God. 

On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another. 

You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet. 

As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes. 

He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.

You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply. 

“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.

“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment. 

Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.” 

You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction. 

But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing. 

The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure. 

“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.” 

“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.” 

“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.” 

Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed. 

Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god! 

You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move. 

You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears. 

“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.” 

You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. 

“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.” 

Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.” 

“S-sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.

“Ji, do you… do you want some help?” 

The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.

Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?” 

You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.” 

He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.”  He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…” 

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.” 

“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…” 

You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself. 

“H-here.” 

He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair. 

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.

Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric. 

“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music. 

Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.

“Is that okay?” you ask him softly. 

“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…” 

The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm. 

“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!” 

“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.” 

It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips. 

“Y-you sure?” 

You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls. 

“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…” 

“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.

You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently. 

“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -” 

He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully. 

When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray. 

This is a sight you’ll never forget. 

A taste you’ll never forget. 

You feel something tighten in your chest. 

You’ve fallen so hard for him. 

“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you. 

His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy. 

“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you. 

He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth. 

“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.” 

Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh. 

The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin. 

“Jisung…” 

“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.

When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him. 

“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”

He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning. 

You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.

Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…” 

The nickname alone almost ends you.

He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says. 

The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?” 

It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?” 

You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt. 

“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear. 

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away. 

“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained. 

He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him. 

You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.

“Y/N…” 

Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy. 

“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“Y/N, wait -” 

You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.

You smile. 

You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you. 

Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to. 

When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear. 

“Y/N, please, listen -” 

You don’t think. You just kiss him. 

Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock. 

“What are you -” 

“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.” 

It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again. 

You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.” 

You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth. 

“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.” 

“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”

“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.” 

You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again. 

“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.” 

You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.

It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.

You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.

He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.  

“Fuck, those tits…” 

You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.

“Ji, please…” 

His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours. 

Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have. 

Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you. 

“Can I - I mean - You sure?” 

“Yes,” you nod. 

You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.” 

“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.” 

You smile, pulling him into a kiss. 

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear. 

He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together. 

You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure. 

“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…” 

“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…” 

You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic. 

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…” 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…” 

He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.” 

“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.” 

With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws. 

“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”

“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.

“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.” 

“Jisung.” 

You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes. 

“Will you kiss me?” 

Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.

Some time later, you smile. 

You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.

“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him. 

You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.” 

“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.” 

“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.” 

“Me too, Ji. Me too.” 

I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡

taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry

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the sequel // suna rintarou

tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, so much angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, yearning, happy ending

wc ⇢ 5k

a/n: i never cried so much while writing something

Suna felt like he was watching a movie. A sad, tragic fucking movie that he couldn't tear his eyes away from no matter how much it hurt to keep looking.

Frame by frame, moment by excruciating moment, he watched you - his best friend, the love of his life - fall in and out of love with someone else. Again.

If his life really was a movie...what role would he play? The sidekick? The comic relief? No, he decided with a bitter twist of his lips. He wasn't even important enough for that. He was just an extra. A background character that no one noticed or cared about.

Someone who faded into the scenery while the bright, beautiful protagonist - that was you, always you - took center stage and shone.

Suna had known you his entire life. His earliest memories all featured you, front and center, with him orbiting around you like a satellite, like a moth drawn to a flame.

You'd taken your first wobbling steps together, hands clasped and eyes wide with wonder. Babbled your first words to each other in a language only you two could understand. Gotten into mischief and skinned your knees and learned about the world side by side.

For as long as he could remember, you'd been his constant, his touchstone. His north star. The axis his whole world turned on. Life without you was unfathomable. Unthinkable.

But somehow, as the years scrolled by like frames on a reel...Suna started to feel like he was watching from a distance. Like there was an invisible wall between you, thin as glass but strong as steel, that he could never quite break through.

No matter how close you were, how many secrets you traded and inside jokes you laughed over and half-spoken conversations you could hold with just a glance...you always felt just a little bit out of reach. Like a mirage that would dissolve into mist if he tried to touch. Something too good to be true, too precious for the likes of him to grasp.

And how could he even think of reaching out, of trying to hold onto you the way he desperately wanted to? How could a mere background character ever hope to stand alongside the radiant lead, the brightest spot in every scene?

No, Suna was content to stay in the shadows. To watch and support and be there in whatever way you needed him, even as it killed him by inches. As long as he could keep you in his life, as long as he got to stay by your side...that would be enough. It had to be.

But god, it was getting harder. Harder to paste on a carefree smile and listen to you gush about your latest boyfriend. Harder to swallow the jealousy and longing clogging his throat when he watched you with stars in your eyes, so incandescently happy in someone else's arms.

Harder to bite his tongue against the confessions that always wanted to spill out, to choke back the pleas and promises and declarations his treacherous heart whispered in the dark.

"I love you," he wanted to say, every minute of every day. "I've always loved you. You're my forever, my reason, my home. Pick me. Choose me. See me. I swear I'll spend my life making you happy, if you'll just let me try."

But he never said it. Never took that leap of faith, too terrified of shattering the fragile status quo. Too scared of losing you entirely.

So he stayed quiet, stayed still, even as he felt like he was cracking apart inside. He watched you fall in love again and again, watched each bright-eyed boy promise you forever. Watched your smile dim and your shoulders droop when they inevitably let you down, broke your big, beating heart so carelessly.

It was a particular kind of agony, holding you while you cried over someone else. Seeing the light go out of your eyes, powerless to do anything but wipe away your tears and murmur empty platitudes. Every hitched sob was a barb in his skin, every sniffle a dagger to his ribs.

He wanted to shake you sometimes, wanted to scream "Why can't you see what's right in front of you? Why can't you see how much I love you? How I would never, ever hurt you the way they do?"

But he never did. Just folded you close and stroked your hair and let you dampen his shirt with your grief. Let you give him tiny glimpses of the mosaic of cracks in your chest before you pasted on a wobbly smile and soldiered on, determined not to let the world see you bleed.

Those cracks scared him. Scared him in a bone-deep way few things ever had. Because he lived in dread of the day they splintered apart entirely. The day your seemingly endless capacity for love and joy and trust finally ran dry, bled out by a thousand careless cuts.

He couldn't bear the thought of your light going out forever. Of those glorious eyes going flat and dull, that incandescent smile withering on the vine. You were the sun and he was just a planet in your orbit - he genuinely didn't know if he could survive without your warmth. Without you, everything would wither.

So he would endure. He would be your rock, your safe harbor, your shelter from every storm. Even if it killed him, even if he shattered to pieces in the process, he would hold you together.

Because a world without your laughter, without your brilliant, untamable spirit...that was no world at all. And maybe his love could be enough to keep you shining. Maybe if he believed hard enough, if he poured enough of his own flickering light into you...you would be okay.

And just maybe, someday...you would turn that supernova smile on him. Maybe you would finally, finally see him. Not as a background character, not as a sidekick...but as a man who loved you with every fiber of his being.

As someone who had been there all along, just waiting for you to look a little closer. To see the shape of his devotion, the staggering depth of his feelings written in every line of his face, his heart in his eyes and your name carved into his bones.

But until that impossible day, he would watch. He would wait. He would bide his time until the credits rolled and the movie ended...and just pray that there would be a sequel. One where he finally got to step out of the background and into the spotlight of your eyes.

Where you were his co-star, his partner, his love. Where you wrote a new story together, one frame at a time, and the only tears were happy ones.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and gossamer and so painfully far out of reach. But it was all he had, so he clung to it in the hidden depths of his heart and kept watching the scenes play out.

Kept hoping that someday, if he was patient enough, if he loved you hard enough...the dream would become reality.

And you would finally, finally be his.

As the years scrolled by, Suna watched you grow and change, always from a step behind. He watched you navigate the perilous waters of adolescence, cheering you on as you blossomed into a beautiful, vibrant young woman. Watched you stumble and pick yourself back up, watched you learn and evolve and become more yourself with every passing day.

He was there for all of it, every milestone and heartbreak, every triumph and disappointment. When you got your first period and cried from embarrassment, he was the one who biked to the store for pads and chocolate, the one who held you and reassured you that it was all normal and okay.

When you got your heart broken for the first time at sixteen, he was the one who showed up at your window with ice cream and terrible movies, the one who let you sob into his chest and rail against the unfairness of it all.

When you got accepted into your dream college, he was the first person you called, screaming with joy down the line. He'd shut his eyes against the sting of tears, against the yawning ache in his chest at the thought of you leaving him behind...and told you how proud he was, how happy he was for you.

Always, always, he was your person. Your touchstone, your safe place. The one who knew you inside and out, backward and forward and every way in between. He was there in all the big moments...and all the little ones in between that made up a life.

Like the lazy summer afternoons spent lounging in the park, shoulders brushing as you read your respective books, content to just exist in the same space. The midnight walks under a canopy of stars, hands casually entwined, no words needed in the warm, honeyed dark.

The cups of coffee he'd bring you on drowsy mornings, made just the way you liked. The way you'd curl into his side during scary movies, face hidden trustingly in the curve of his neck, his arm a protective shield around you.

All those insignificant, in-between moments...they were everything to Suna. He hoarded them like a miser, turned them over and over in his mind like precious gems on nights when the ache in his chest got too big to breathe around.

Each one was a flicker of light, a tiny ember of hope that maybe, someday...you would see. You would understand just how much he loved you, how much he had always loved you. You would realize that he was right there, that he had been there all along, just waiting for you to really look at him.

But you never did. Your eyes always seemed to skim right over him, to look through him like he was made of glass, transparent and inconsequential. He was furniture to you, he sometimes thought despairingly. Part of the scenery of your life, always there but never really seen.

Never the one you wanted, the one you yearned for. He was the one you settled for, the one you came back to when the newest bright-eyed boy let you down. The one you cried on, the one you leaned on...but never the one you loved. At least, not the way he wanted you to.

God, how he wished you would love him. It was a physical ache, a bone-deep longing that never went away no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He felt hollowed out with it, scraped raw and empty.

Late at night, he let himself imagine it. Let himself paint a picture of a world where you wanted him back, where you looked at him with even a fraction of the desperate, clawing need he felt for you.

In his weakest moments, he let himself believe it could be real. That someday, you would wake up and realize that he was everything you'd ever wanted, that he could make you happy in a way no one else ever could.

That you would take his face in your hands, eyes wide and wondering like you were seeing him for the first time. That you would breathe his name like a prayer, like a revelation, and kiss him with a tenderness that set his soul alight.

That you would tell him you loved him, that you were sorry for taking so long to understand, but you wanted to make up for lost time. That you wanted to be his, wholly and completely, for the rest of your lives.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and perfect as a soap bubble. But like a bubble, it always burst, leaving him blinking away stinging tears and feeling like a fool.

Because this wasn't a movie, no matter how much it felt like one sometimes. There was no guarantee of a happy ending, no artful resolution scripted in the stars.

In the real world, the guy pining in the background didn't always get the girl. Sometimes he just stayed in the background forever, watching her life happen without him, until the credits rolled and the lights came up on his lonely little corner of the world.

But oh, how he wanted to believe. He would never be the leading man, he knew that. He was too quiet, too steady, too content to let you shine while he basked in your reflected glow. You needed someone as brilliant and dazzling as you, someone who could match you spark for spark and set the world on fire.

Someone braver than him. Someone who would risk it all for a chance at your heart, instead of staying safe and silent on the sidelines.

He wasn't that guy. He never would be. But a tiny, desperate part of him still held out hope that maybe, someday...he could be enough for you, just as he was. That even if he wasn't the star of the show, he could still be an integral part of your story.

The one who was always there to catch you when you stumbled, to hold you up when you couldn't stand on your own. The one who knew your secrets and your scars, your hopes and your fears. The one who loved every messy, imperfect, beautiful inch of you, unconditionally and irrevocably.

Maybe he could be your co-star, your partner in crime and love and life. Maybe you could write a new story together, one where the quiet, steadfast best friend got his chance to step into the light and be seen, really seen, by the only eyes that had ever mattered.

It was a slim hope, gossamer-thin and liable to tear at the slightest touch. But it was all Suna had, so he held it close and carried it with him, a tiny flicker of light in the dark.

And he kept watching, kept waiting. Kept loving you with everything he had, even as it wore him down to the bone. He would play his role in your movie, would be whatever you needed him to be...until the day came when he could finally step out from the background and into your arms.

Until the day when "I love you" wasn't just a secret whispered in the dark, but a vow made in the light of your smile, your hands in his and your heart beating against his chest.

Until the day when the movie of his life finally got its happy ending...and you were right there beside him, radiant and real, as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled on a love story for the ages.

He just had to hold on until then. Just had to keep believing, keep loving, keep watching.

Because in the end, he knew it would all be worth it. You would always be worth it.

Even if it took a lifetime, even if it killed him...he would wait for you.

Always.

As the years went by and you both grew older, Suna watched you evolve and change in a thousand tiny ways. He watched you graduate college, watched you land your dream job and move into your first adult apartment. Watched you navigate the ups and downs of adult life with the same resilient grace he'd always admired, always loved.

Through it all, he was there. Your constant, your touchstone. The one you called when you got a promotion, voice bubbling with excitement. The one you leaned on when your grandma died, eyes swollen and voice thick with grief.

He was the one who helped you move, lugging boxes up endless flights of stairs and quietly assembling IKEA furniture while you flitted around like a hummingbird, arranging and rearranging. The one who showed up at your door with soup and medicine when you got the flu, who sat with you and watched terrible reality TV until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

He was woven into every part of your life, as essential and invisible as air. Always there, always just a phone call or a text away. Your best friend, your rock, your safe harbor in every storm.

But still, even as you grew closer than ever...there was a distance there. A wall that Suna could never quite breach, no matter how hard he tried. Because no matter how much of your life you shared with him, no matter how many secrets you whispered into the dark...there was always a part of you that held back.

A part that you kept locked away, hidden behind bright smiles and breezy deflections. The part that held your heart, your deepest hopes and dreams and fears. The part that Suna longed to know, to understand...but that you never quite let him see.

It hurt, that distance. It ate at him like acid, slow and corrosive. Because he wanted all of you, every messy, complicated, beautiful part. He wanted to crack you open and crawl inside, to burrow into the hidden depths of your soul and make a home there.

He wanted to be the one you turned to with your whole heart, the one you trusted with your most vulnerable self. He wanted to be your person in every sense of the word, not just the one you leaned on but the one you loved, the one you chose.

But you never did. No matter how much he longed for it, no matter how many nights he spent staring at the ceiling and wishing...you never saw him as anything more than a friend. A best friend, sure, but still just...a friend.

And god, it was getting harder to bear. Harder to swallow back the words that always wanted to spill out, the confessions and pleas and promises. Harder to bite his tongue and smile when you gushed about your latest boyfriend, to offer a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on when they inevitably let you down.

He felt like he was drowning, sometimes. Like he was being slowly crushed under the weight of all the unspoken things, all the pent-up love and longing and desperation. He felt like he was fading away, bit by bit, worn thin by the constant effort of holding himself together, of keeping his heart locked away behind a friendly smile and an easy laugh.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could do it. Wasn't sure how much more he could take before he shattered completely, before he just...broke.

But what choice did he have? He couldn't lose you. Couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it, even if being near you was slowly killing him. You were oxygen to him, necessary and vital. Cutting you out would be like cutting out his own heart.

So he endured. He swallowed the hurt and the jealousy and the desperate, clawing need, and he was there. Always, always there, waiting in the wings. Waiting for you to see him, to really see him.

Waiting for his chance to step out of the background and into the light of your love.

It was getting harder to hold onto hope, some days. Harder to believe that there would ever be a right time, a perfect moment. That he would ever find the courage to lay his heart at your feet and beg you to take it, to cherish it the way he'd always cherished you.

But he had to believe. It was all he had, this fragile flicker of faith. The tiniest spark of possibility, glowing in the dark.

So he fanned it carefully, tended it like the precious thing it was. He held it close on the nights when the loneliness got too much to bear, when the ache in his chest made it hard to breathe. Whispered it to himself like a mantra, a prayer:

Someday. Someday. Someday.

Someday, you would see. Someday, you would understand. Someday, he would be brave enough, strong enough, to reach out and grasp the future he wanted so desperately.

Someday, your movie would reach its climax. The music would swell, the camera would pan in...and he would finally, finally step into his destiny. Into the starring role he'd always been meant to play, the one he'd been rehearsing for his whole life.

He would take your hands in his, look into your eyes...and he would say it. The words that had been living in his throat for years, the ones that beat against his ribs like caged birds, desperate for freedom.

"I love you," he would say, simple and honest and achingly true. "I've always loved you. And I know I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for, I know I'm not exciting or flashy or whatever, but...I'm here. I've always been here. And I always will be, if you'll let me. Because you're it for me. You're everything."

And maybe, just maybe...you would hear him. Really hear him, the way you never had before. Maybe you would look at him with new eyes, with dawning realization and wonder and joy.

Maybe you would see all the love he'd been holding back, see the shape of his devotion in every line of his face. Maybe you would understand that he was your person, your forever...just like you were his.

"Oh," you would breathe, soft and reverent. "Oh, Suna. I...I never knew. I never saw..."

"I know," he would whisper, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. "I know, baby. But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."

And then...then you would kiss him. Soft and sweet and filled with promise, filled with all the love he'd always dreamed of. You would wind your arms around his neck and press close, and he would hold you like he'd always longed to, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

Because you were. God, you were. And finally, finally...you were his.

His best friend. His soulmate. His happy ending, the one he'd always been chasing.

The credits would roll, the music would fade out...and a new story would begin.

The evening had started like countless others - just you and Suna, a few too many drinks, and a forgotten movie playing in the background as you laughed and joked and reminisced. It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of easy intimacy born from a lifetime of friendship.

But as the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, Suna found himself growing quiet, a melancholy settling over him like a fog. He watched you through increasingly blurry eyes, taking in the way the soft light played over your features, the way your laughter seemed to fill the room, bright and effervescent.

God, you were so beautiful. So vibrant, so full of life and joy and everything good in the world. And he loved you so much it hurt, a physical ache in his chest that never went away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

"You know what's really pathetic?" he found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could bite them back.

You turned to him, head cocked, a curious smile playing about your lips. "What's that?"

Suna swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over the precipice. He knew he should step back, laugh it off, change the subject. But the alcohol had loosened his tongue, lowered his inhibitions, and suddenly...suddenly he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Me," he said, voice rough and scratchy with emotion. "I'm pathetic. Because I've been in love with you for so fucking long, and I've never had the balls to tell you."

Your eyes went wide, lips parting in shock, but Suna barreled on, the words pouring out of him like water from a burst dam.

"I've loved you since we were kids," he said, staring down at his hands, vision blurring with unshed tears. "Since the day you punched that kid for making fun of my haircut in third grade. Since the summer we were twelve and you broke your arm falling out of that tree, and you held my hand the whole way to the hospital even though you were the one in pain."

A smile flickered across his face, small and fond and aching. "I loved you when we were sixteen and you got your heart broken for the first time, and you cried on my shoulder for hours. I loved you when you accidentally burnt toast because you were singing in the kitchen. I loved you when we graduated high school, and you looked so beautiful in your cap and gown that it took my breath away."

He risked a glance up at you, finding you staring at him with a stricken expression, tears tracking silently down your cheeks. "I loved you through every boyfriend, every breakup, every lame movie night and inside joke and 2 AM phone call. I loved you on your best days and your worst days and every day in between."

Suna's voice broke then, a sob catching in his throat. "I love you now," he whispered, raw and ragged. "I love you so much it's like a physical thing, like a part of me. Like I can't breathe right when you're not around, can't think straight when you're near. You're in my veins, in my bones, in every beat of my fucking heart, and I...I can't keep pretending anymore."

The tears were flowing freely now, hot and fast down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "I know I'm not...I know I'm not what you want," he choked out, chest heaving with the force of his emotions. "I know I'm just your best friend, just the guy you call when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with. But god, I want to be more. I want to be everything to you, the way you are to me."

He reached out with shaking hands, cupping your face, thumbs swiping at the tears painting your cheeks. "I love you," he breathed, pouring every ounce of longing, every shred of desperate devotion into the words. "I am so fucking in love with you, it's like...it's like I don't know how to be anything else. And I just...I needed you to know. Even if it ruins everything, even if you don't feel the same...I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't keep lying to you, to myself."

Suna closed his eyes then, unable to bear the sight of your face, the pity or gentle rejection he knew must be written there. He felt flayed open, raw and exposed, heart lying shattered at your feet.

But then...then he felt your hands on his, warm and steady. Felt you lean in, forehead pressing against his own, the salt of your tears mingling with his.

"Suna, you idiot," you whispered, and he flinched, bracing for the blow. But your voice was soft, achingly tender, suffused with a warmth that made his eyes fly open in shock. "How could you not know? How could you not see that I...that I love you too? That I've always loved you, from the minute we met?"

He stared at you, hardly daring to breathe, to hope. But you were smiling through your tears, eyes shining with a light he'd never seen before. "You're not just my best friend," you said, hands sliding into his hair, cradling him like he was something precious. "You're my soulmate, my other half. The one person who knows me better than anyone, who's always been there, always loved me, even at my worst."

You pressed your lips to his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his trembling mouth. "I love you, Suna Rintarou," you murmured against his skin, each word a benediction. "I'm in love with you. And if you want me...I'm yours. Forever."

A broken sob tore from Suna's throat, disbelief and joy and overwhelming relief crashing over him in a tidal wave. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was messy and desperate and perfect, pouring every ounce of love, every year of longing into the press of his mouth on yours.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in his shirt, holding him close like you never wanted to let go. And god, he never wanted you to. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in you, in the love he'd craved for so long, the love he'd never dared to hope could be his.

When you finally broke apart, breathing hard, Suna couldn't stop touching you - hands skimming over your face, your hair, your shoulders, like he needed to convince himself this was real. That you were real, that this was happening.

"I love you," he rasped, resting his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so much."

You smiled, radiant and blinding, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you too," you whispered. "Always have, always will."

And as Suna gathered you into his arms, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed you in...he felt something slot into place in his chest. A piece he hadn't even known was missing, a hole he'd carried for so long, suddenly filled by your love, your presence, your promise of forever.

From those early days when you first stumbled into each other's orbits, he'd watched your lives play out together like adjacent movies running on parallel screens. Two stories inching closer with each passing year, edging tantalizingly near but never quite converging into one. He was the yearning protagonist, you the luminous star burning bright just out of reach.

But now, in this transcendent moment, the projectors had merged. The credits were rolling on that old, achingly familiar film that had been his constant lonesome companion. And when the lights came up, when the screen flickered to brilliant new life...it was a sequel. Your sequel together at last, 3D and eye-searing in its vividness.

No longer was he resigned to loving you from afar, playing the supporting role in your story. Now you were his co-star, his perfectly matched lead - twin suns burning brilliantly side-by-side in their own cosmic romance.

This was just the beginning. Your beginning, the sequel he'd waited his entire existence to see... and it was more extraordinary than anything he could have ever imagined.

[neiptune]

when you get me alone it's so simple

c/w: 1k wc, megumi is so head over heels in love with you he allows you to do his makeup for a halloween party, sappy and self indulgent and disgustingly sweet pls be nice i haven't written something in forever

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“When am I not being difficult according to you?”

The playful quip makes the cornes of your lips curl into an amused smile.

“Right. But I really think you should come”

Megumi holds your gaze with a seemingly impassive stare, lets the small interval of silence stretch for a second too long.

It’s not that he doesn’t like hanging out with his friends, he actually enjoys the idea of getting to be nothing more than a young man with an exceptionally low tolerance level for Nobara’s antics for once. However, a halloween party? Filled with obnoxious strangers who will get drunk and make a mess of Yuuji’s house? A mess that you have already promised will help to clean out?

Definitely not on his bingo card for an evening he could spend at the movies or in a quiet pub instead.

But then, there’s your strenuous perseverence. The disappointment you didn’t for a second attempt to hide still swarming in those big eyes, the pettish inflexion of your pitch when you had sputtered a what? What d’you mean you’re not coming?

And now there you are, curled up on the other end of your couch, sulkiness oozing from every glance you’ve spared him for the last half an hour.

“I want you there” you innocently cock your head and he feels something melt in his chest “it just wouldn’t be fun without you. Please come?”

Sometimes Megumi wonders if you know about the exhausting effort it takes him to whisk away thoughts a friend shouldn’t have, the way he’s almost lost his mind dwelling on the way you held on to his hand the entire way back to your apartment on the night he came to collect you from the bar, drunk and a giggling, clingy mess. He wonders if you understand just how deeply you can get under his skin and the way he hangs on to every word, every smile, each I want you there.

“Gumi?” you inch forward, brows knit and cool fingers gently grazing his arm.

Jesus, fuck.

“Fine. But I’m not staying to clean up”

You smile knowingly, a light shrug swallowing the of course you will almost spilling from your lips.

“Deal. And I get to do your makeup”

The dim light of your awfully small bathroom has gentle shadows settling into the curves of your collarbones and accentuates your jaw, the apples of your cheeks. There are only so many glances he can steal as the pitter-patter of rain on the window makes the perspective of spending the night out even less appealing.

Regardless, the warmth radiating from your skin and the smell of your perfume cloud his pathetically heightened senses, a multisensory madness that has his heart thumping painfully in his chest and the pads of his fingers tingling with need.

“Will you stop flinching?” only one of his eyes is open and you’re out of focus but that exasperated smile rings loud in his ears.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, it’s an instinctive reaction”

“I’m just using eyeshadow”

You finally allow his left eye to peel open and Megumi almost laughs at your focused stare, creases on your forehead expressing a deep dissatisfaction.

“What? Doesn’t suit me?” he quips “it’s probably because you keep smudging it—”

“I’m going for a dramatic look, you dolt!”

His eyebrows raise in mocking interest.

“Oh, apologies. What’s the issue, then? Not dramatic enough?”

“You’re being surprisingly chatty for someone who is usually very fucking quiet”

Megumi’s sarcastic comeback dies in his throat as you suddenly position yourself over him, not quite straddling his lap because you’re still standing but nevertheless exceptionally close to sitting on his thighs.  

“What are you— what is that?” his voice is thinner and he has to flex his hands to keep himself from positioning them on your hips.

Christ.

“Chill, man. It’s eyeliner. Don’t move, this is the most important part” and then you’re hovering above him once more, except this time you gently grab his chin to tilt his head upwards as you lean closer, so close he stops breathing.

You work quietly, in comfortable silence, although you’re at cotton swab number three and the result still doesn’t seem to fully satisfy you.

“You should wear makeup” it’s a comment made absentmindedly, Megumi can tell by the way you’re not even truly looking at him as you speak, way too absorbed by the task at hand “eye makeup, I mean. It looks really good on you”

“Yeah?”

There must be something in his inflection, because your hand comes to a halt for a second, then resumes its gentle work over his eyelid. All he gets is an affirmative hum.

“Someone would have to teach me how to do it”

He’s not sure where his boldness is stemming from, although he suspects the thumb gently brushing over the same spot close to the corner of his eye would make a reasonable source.

“I’m sure Nobara would be happy to” you quietly chuckle to yourself but this time it feels as if you’re avoiding his gaze on purpose and that just won’t do.

“Doesn’t your back hurt like this?”

“A little bit but I’m almost done with this eye. Are you uncomfortable? I can—” Megumi interrupts you with a gentle but firm hold of your waist, hands far bigger than yours pulling you down to sit on his lap.

You’re dumbfounded and he revels in your shocked expression, in the way you’re the one who doesn’t know how to handle something unexpected for once. In how good it feels to be in control.

“Don’t make it weird” the warning is playful but his hands are still on your waist and give it a light squeeze that has your stomach doing a weird flip.

“I— what? You don’t make it weird! Shut up, stand still” your entire face is on fire and the hoodie you’re wearing suddenly feels all too warm.

Megumi smiles innocently but complies, quiet and as immobile as a sorcerer's body can get.

You pretend not to notice the way he melts into your touch, how his body relaxes as he shuts both his eyes and finally lets you work in peace. No sarcastic remarks, no silly winces. Why does that do something to your chest?

It’s so easy, carefully lining his bottom lash line with your favorite liquid eyeliner. Without thinking, you cradle his face as you gently swipe your thumb over the freshly traced lines to smudge them just right.

But then his eyes flutter open right as you hold his face in your hands and is it your imagination or does the grip on your waist grow more solid in turn?

“Y’know” he murmurs in a way that is so unlike him, so intimate as his indigo gaze burns right into yours “actually, I wouldn’t want Nobara to be the one to do it”

[hungharrington]

personally i struggle with emotional vulnerability so im not really an “I love you” person? the words get stuck and feel unnatural

BUT READER GIVINF STEVE A HANDJOB N THE FEELING STRIKES HER. she just rests her chin on his shoulder and does a cheesy movie-esque love stare up at him, all you know how much i love you right? love you sooo much stevie. you’re perfect and make me feel so safe, so loved, love you so much for all of that. love you love you love you love you whispered in time with the movement of her hand. leaving little sucky pecks on the chubs of his cheeks. acting as if nothings new when it’s all done, idk if he’d point blank ask or imply but just a “:] hmm? oh, i dunno what you mean stevie :]”

BABEY this was such a 10/10 request like…. the way i sent this to at least 3 different moots when i got it…. ur brain…. so have some subby!steve & as always it’s so in love MDNI this entire blog is 18+, i know the request is for a fem!reader but i’ve kept it gn!reader, 1.1k words, enjoy! <3

You don’t think there’s a prettier sight than how Steve looks when you have your fingers wrapped around his cock.

Cheeks bright flushed pink, eyes screwed up, his chest rising and falling quickly, the muscles beneath his tummy clenching and rippling as you move your hand up and down as fast as you please. 

He’s making those sweet noises you just adore so much — little low moans, each breath laced with a keen that you know will turn into a whimper when he gets closer to the edge. All of his noises go straight between your thighs but right now isn’t about you. It’s about Steve.

The couch cushions press into your legs as you shift, rearranging to be closer to him. You hook your chin over his shoulder, you spare hand creeping up his back, slow and soothingly. The wet sounds of his dripping cock sound fucking heavenly, doused in his soft quiet moans, as you curl your fingers into his hair. Raking them through, your thighs press tighter together when Steve lets out a particularly loud moan. 

“Mm, feeling good, Stevie?” You talk lowly, so close you know he can hear you. You press a kiss into his shoulder, nuzzling your nose along down to his collarbone, your hand fucking his cock a little bit faster. Steve keens, fighting to keep his hips still, trying to be good. His hands clench into fists at his sides. 

He’d had such a day and you had offered to take care of him and Steve just wants to be good for you. 

He nods quickly to answer your question, creasing his eyes open to meet yours and you feel his cock twitch at the sight of your adoring gaze on him— chin on his shoulder, hand gliding his cock so perfectly, dropping another kiss on the exposed skin of his shoulder. 

“Yes, fuck, yes— your hand is always so good, baby.” Steve pants lightly, eyes still fixed on you. They drop to your lips and you don’t deny him, pushing up and leaning in to kiss him. He’s messy with it, not quite the usual practice he has and when you thumb over his slit, Steve groans into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, a high whine escaping his mouth, hips jumping up to meet your hand. 

His forehead drops, leaning against yours and you lean in again, your next kiss on his cheek. 

“Good, y’so good baby. You know how I love you, right?” You murmur, nearly cooing, right as you scrape your fingers through his hair again. Steve shudders beneath you, his eyes cinched shut but a whimper still slips from his throat, loud and high. You speed up your hand, the squelching of it getting louder and louder. 

“Shit,” Steve curses, peeking his eyes open. “Y’can’t say tha- that right now or— ah— I’m gonna cum in a minute.” 

“Love you soooo much, Stevie,” you continue like you haven’t heard him, twisting your hand in that torturous way while your other hand strokes down the nape of his neck, your touch soft with love. Steve gasps loudly, his hips bucking again and all his moans melt into soft whimpers. You kiss his cheek again, nuzzling your nose against his as your adoring words pour out. 

“You’re perfect f’me, you know?” You whisper, your thumb teasing his tip again. Steve whines, his chest heaving with his whimpering heavy breaths. You can see his hands flexing, forming and reforming fists over and over. “You make me feel so safe, so loved, Stevie, love you so much for that.” 

“Fuck,” Steve breathes. He sounds so wrecked for you, voice all raspy from his moans. “Fuck, honey- you can’t just— nghm—“ 

“Love you,” you whisper lovingly, your hand twisting into his hair again and tugging lightly. You speed up your hand tugging his heavy cock, heat bubbling in your tummy at how it leaks all over your hand, the head of it flushed bright pink. You kiss his cheek again sloppily. 

“Love you, love you, love you so much,” You say, drinking in his fucked out expression— brown eyes hidden away, pink lips parted in a whine, his blush standing out against his tan skin. Steve trembles against you, breathing jagged. 

“You can’t—“ He whines softly. “I’m gonna— oh fuck, baby—“

“You can.” You hush him sweetly, another kiss to his shoulder. “C’mon, you can, Stevie. Wanna see you cum f’me, baby, wanna see you cum while I tell you how much I love you, yeah?” 

Steve heaves a deep stuttering breath, his hands finally moving from his sides to grip at your shirt— his fingers twist in and he tugs you impossibly closer. His face turns to hide in your neck as his whimpers start to catch, hips bucking up uncontrollably into your fist. Sweet whiney noises pour into your skin as his orgasm builds up and up — you sweep your hand along the back of his neck again and say it again, a low loving whisper of “I love you,” and Steve breaks. 

His whine is so noisy as the first stream of cum dribbles from his cock and when you don’t slow your pace, you feel his lips part and his teeth sink into your shoulder lightly. He whimpers pathetically, his top half turned to cling to you while you work all his hot cum from his cock, painting your hand and his thighs with it. 

“Mm, so good, love you Stevie, love how well you did for me,” Your murmurs tide Steve over until his soft whines of pleasure turn to whimpers of overstimulation and you finally release his cock. Your hand moves to thigh instead, giving a soft rub as you try to coax his face out. 

“That was big, huh? You came a lot.” Your gaze wanders to his cum-streaked thighs and you can’t help the tiny giggle that titters out of you — it’s enough to get Steve to lift his face. He’s so pink still that it makes you want to coo at him. He looks only a smidge embarrassed, more blissed out than anything. 

“I told you,” He huffs breathlessly, a lazy smile on his face as his head lolls back to rest against the couch. “You can’t say that and expect me not to…” 

He gestures wordlessly to his crotch and you laugh a little, snuggling back up to him. You kiss his neck, nosing up to kiss his jaw and Steve waits patiently, humming happily when you reach his lips. 

You pull back with a teasing smile, “I know but I don’t expect it to keep working every time.” 

Steve waves a hand, eyes slipping closed as his lazy grin spreads. “Mmhmm, liar. You know what it does to me.” 

His words are lovingly, like he loves that you know what he loves. You kiss his cheek once more. 

“Yeah, I do,” you admit gleefully. “And I love it nearly as much as I love you.” 

Steve’s dick gives a soft twitch against his thighs and he groans, face screwing up for a second. “Don’t,” he warns. He opens his eyes to glare at you but there’s no heat. You grin and kiss him again. 

[intrepidacious]

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[notyourhetloki]

sleepover (Ken x GN Reader)

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Hey! So... my requests are closed BUT with you'd like anything about this pretty himbo I would love to write it! Just send me a message ;)

Warnings: Technically SFW but very suggestive themes, I think "kissing laying down" would be equivalent to sex in Barbieland so… yeah. THEY DON'T HAVE GENITALS.

—

Now that Ken was your official boyfriend and you had gone on several dates together, you decided it was time for the next step.

When you invited Ken for a sleepover at your house, he almost burst into tears at how happy he was... but of course, he tried playing it cool. "Sure, doll."

In your bedroom, you watched movies as you played dress up, trying to match as many outfits as possible. You painted each other's nails and brushed each other's hair, gossiping about other dolls... you had a lot of fun!

As the night continued, you grew closer and closer to each other. Sitting on your bed with thighs and shoulders touching. He just couldn't wait any longer, so he went for it eventually.

Ken kissed you tenderly at first, holding the side of your face with one hand and holding yours with the other. You had kissed a hundred times by now, but it always felt like the first time...

Then, the kiss deepened. Ken was now holding you by the waist, desperate for some more contact... you hummed in approval as his tongue grazed yours and he smiled against your lips.

You parted to breathe, and a thought came to your mind... it felt a little dirty, but you assumed Ken wouldn't judge you. "Ken, what if... what if we like, kiss but... laying down?"

He gasped, putting his hand against his mouth. You soon realized he was blushing HARD, and you regretted saying anything. "Sorry! Am I going too fast? I didn't want to-"

"No! It's ok! I mean, I didn't think you'd ask, but... I'm down for it. I... really want to." Ken looked at you with soft blue eyes, almost pleading. He would never admit it but he was really needy, and just the thought of being more intimate with you made him shake in excitement.

"Oh! Ok, then... c'mere, baby." He loved when you called him 'baby', so he gladly obliged, laying down next to you on your bed. You started kissing immediately, hands roaming all over.

After what felt like a few minutes, Ken suddenly moved to be on top of you, kissing your jaw, then down your neck... A sound escaped your throat and you weren't quite sure what it was. But you liked it... really much.

"Ken... you're so good..." you whispered, and immediately you felt him shiver. God how he loved to be praised... it made his entire day, week even. He adored being praised by YOU specifically, and those words... in these circumstances... it made him feel something he didn't quite understand yet. Like a heat in his chest, in his belly... he wanted more.

"(Y/N)... please... say that again..." His eyes suddenly darker by his blown-out pupils, mouth slightly agape, hair all messy... he looked beautiful.

"You're so good, Ken... You're amazing..." You were cut out by his mouth crashing into yours, lips working fiercely while tongues danced around. It was messy, something you two were not accustomed to. It felt dirty but so good... you grasped Ken by his hair and he hummed in approval, while he grabbed at your waist and thighs, making you whine.

He eventually moved to your neck again, and you had the chance to think out loud. "This is how they do it in the Real World, right?"

Slightly out of breath, Ken looked up at you and responded. "Most definitely."

You two would make out for hours, grabbing and touching and kissing until you grew tired and decided to sleep. You hugged Ken from behind while he adjusted in your bed, completely overjoyed.

In the morning, while having breakfast, you two discussed the night before. "Woah... it was awesome. Like, the best experience I've ever had!" Ken exclaimed energetically. "Maybe next time we can do it like the movies?"

You looked at him in innocent confusion, expecting him to elaborate. "You know, with... less clothes..." His head was slightly down, so his eyes went up to meet yours, just like a puppy. You blushed hard at the thought, but smiled and nodded, seeing his expression change from pleading to relief to happiness in a matter of seconds. "Cool."

"Like the movies, huh? How long have you been thinking about that?"

"Uh... for a while now." He admitted, bringing his hand behind his head and flexing his bicep in the process, drawing a big smile from you.

"So... do you have any plans for tonight?" You asked mischievously, resting your head on your hands.

Ken looked right into your eyes before licking his lips and imitating your pose. "For you, I'm always available."

—

[missmimii]

☁︎︎ 𝐁𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐌 － 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Matt convinces a old-time friend of his to be his muse for a college project leads to a series of stolen touches, and sandy pecks.

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, Switch!matt, fem!reader, smut, language, public(kinda?) dirty talk, light degradation, pet names, teasing, risky sexual encounter, fingering, detailed intercourse.

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈!

︎－ 𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ | In celebration of almost 500 followers, I lie upon you probably the most detailed smut I’ve written. I love everyone and this entire community so very much, and I’m grateful beyond words to explain how huge this is to me. (It’s been a hot minute since I’ve wrote smut)

☀︎︎－ A small grimace curses Matt’s face as he steps from the hot gravel, to the golden granular sand. Wind blowing through his disheveled brown hair leisurely, pushing back the tendrils with ease as he makes his away across the beach, a breezy of breath air escaping his lips as he takes in the comforting coastline. The boy’s camera sways around his neck with each step, the rough material of the strap scraping against his neck, where the two buttons of his shirt are undone.

☁︎︎－ The triplet inwardly regrets the decision of wearing a pair of his most expensive slacks on a beach, knowing that they would no doubt be dusty and uncomfortable with sand by the time he left, but couldn’t help but wanting to impress her. What had it been? Four years. Sorrow came over him as he realized just how much contact he’d lost with his past, until now. Wow. Running a hand through his hair anxiously, he muttered a curse to himself at such a sight. “Shit.”

☀︎︎ ︎－ Matt’s breath immediately caught in his lungs as he took in the gorgeous view, of not only the sunset, but the girl who stood in front of it like it was meant to be. Skin tinted with a radiant glow as her head tipped aback, eyelashes batting against her cheeks as the charmingly warm breeze fluttered across her sun-kissed face. Waves intermittently flowed over her bare feet, sand washing across the skin before washing away into the water.

︎☁︎︎－ A discarded towel sat not far behind her, flip flops aside the balled up article. As Matt approached the girl, the more his nerves began to wrack his mind. It’s been so long since high-school, so much had changed between them －A friendship that once had seemed laid-back, now filled with tension and memories of provocative urges. “Hey,” the male finally uttered, her head turning at the tranquil voice she knew all too well.

︎☀︎︎－ Tension fell of her shoulders as she took in Matt’s familiar appearance, because despite the obvious change in the boy she once knew, it was still him. The same Matt who stole cheesy glances of her from the corner of his eye in science class－the same boy who’d throw his arm around her shoulder while watching a movie at his house, the same movie neither of them payed attention toward due to the heated side-stares of one an other.

☁︎︎－ Clearing her throat, “Hi,” the girl plastered a small smile on her lips, one that did little to nothing at hiding the uncomfortable feeling of being resentful. Matt couldn’t help but copy that smile, though his was far more genuine then hers. He’d missed her. “You look ..” She raised a tentative eyebrow, making him blow out a sigh. “really good.” Just good? Jesus Matt, say more.

☀︎︎－Whereas the girl, folded her hands behind her back sheepishly, an exhilarating boost in her chest as she took in the compliment. “Thank you.” She murmured, a small smile on her lips. Matt nodded, clearing his throat while running a when down his jaw. “So.. how was New York?” He watched as the girl’s eyes lit up, fighting a chuckle at the sight. “You remembered?” Of course he remembered.

☁︎︎－ “I don’t think you would’ve let me forget.” Her cheeks turned pink at the remark, reminiscent of the late night conversations shared between her and him. It was always an aspiration of the girl’s to visit NYC, the city taking her for trip of nostalgia the mere second she breathed in the musty air. Matt of course, was reminded of this regularly whenever he’d travel from Boston to LA, an immediate guilt taking over the boy as he was reminded of her.

☀︎︎︎－ As frustrating as it was, Matt had gotten used to being reminded of her from the smallest aspects of his life. Simple enough as when he’d pour himself a glass of water, knowing that it was something she’d always request him to do for her, oh so sweetly. Or when he’d drive past a beat up Honda on the way too film a Friday video, the car nauseatingly similar to the one she had in high-school.

☁︎︎－Matt waited a moment too long before clearing his throat, finally speaking up. “This means a lot to me,” he murmured, savouring the gleam in her eyes as he spoke. “You know that right?” The girl melted into Matt’s gaze, offering a meek bob of the head as his hooded stare roamed her expressionisms. I remember when he used to look at me that way. “Where do you want me boss?” She joked, making Matt chuckle.

☀︎︎－The triplet fondly remembers when he’d finally pressed down on the send button, immediately turning his phone over with an aspirated sigh. What if she says no? Or worse, she’d block me － It was a impulsive decision, Matt knew that. Asking his ex-best friend to be his muse, it was the furthest thing from ethical, and the closest to selfish. Still, the boy gave in because he knew that nobody would ever look as good as her, blurred with the lines of a ethereal coastline, and a balmy hue on her skin as he admired her through the restraints of a camera.

☁︎︎－ “Uh,” Matt thumbed with the strap around his neck, hating the way it weighed him down, but simultaneously enjoyed the warmth. “here, I’ll back up a bit, and you jus’ kinda’ stay where you are.” The girl nodded, shuffling around a bit as he took a few steps back, biting down on her lip as she took in his attire. The slacks fit around his waist a little too perfectly, a black belt adorning them with a glint against the leather. And the button up, she felt light-headed even looking at it, the two buttons atop freely undone with a silver chain peeking from under. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” Matt.

☀︎︎－ Matt dropped down onto one knee, the look of him to his haunches bringing an unwanted pulse to the girl’s core as she itched at her neck anxiously. “That’s good,” he muttered, face crinkled in concentration as he lifted the camera. “doin’ so good, just like that..” Matt trailed off with a husk in his tone, before a small snap was heard. He did this another three times before bring the camera down, forcing the gasp he so badly wanted to emit at the sight of pure beauty. Matt had captured her in the best moment, hairs sticking to the moistened supple skin of her plump lips as she flashed her alluring gaze to the camera.

☁︎︎－ It felt as if the air in his lungs had knotted around until it halted his breathing, the camera almost clattering to the sandy ground as he looked up. “Can I see?” The girl tilted her head down at him, pupils beautifully drawn across Matt’s facial features while he forced a curt nod. “Yeah －yeah of course.” He murmured, lifting up from his one knee and putting the camera between the two of them. God, Matt’s entire body burned with a burning need, the urge to grip her waist and slam his lips to hers almost too overwhelming, the scent of her warm vanilla scent engulfing his nose.

☀︎︎－ A few untamed hairs tickled Matt’s jaw as the heavenly girl’s gaze flicked down the the camera. “Oh wow,” a small gasp elicited from her lips, one hand toying with a locket around her neck as she took in the picture. “Do you like it?” Did she like it? He watched as her expression morphed into one of surprise, looking throughly taken aback. “Matt－I love it.” She breathed out, allowing the triplet’s shoulders to fall with relief as he threaded a hand through his hair. “Yeah?” With a soft chuckle, she nodded, hairs framing her eyes with elegance.

☁︎︎－ He had to. “Oh,” a sound of shock left her lips as a large hand reached out and cupped her one cheek, calloused thumb running down the curve of her jaw delicately. “Sorry.” Matt whispered softly, before her eyes fell shut as the irritably feeling of long hairs on her face had dissipated. The boy effortlessly tucked them behind her one ear, watching as the diamonds pierced within glittered in his loving stare. How could he have let her get away? “What?” Huh? Matt met her eyes, swallowing thickly as he saw the confusion written all over her face.

☀︎︎－ “Why are you looking at me like that?” She mumbled, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she spoke in a gentle tone. Matt was left speechless for a moment, knowing the answer to her inquiry, but knew that it wasn’t appropriate to speak of considering the circumstances. “You just look really pretty.” He watched as her features softened at the confession, the smile faltering. “Pretty?” So fucking perfect. At Matt’s nod, she tilted her head away with a soft sound of contemplation.

☁︎︎－ Matt never called her pretty. In their whole seven years of friendship, he’d barely brought up the mere mention of her appearance. It didn’t matter how much make-up she put on, even though Matt liked her naturally, or what clothes she wore, even though sometimes he imagined her in nothing, he never really spoke of it. Pretty, gorgeous, flawless, beautiful － nothing. And why? All because he was in denial and scared? Her eyes flicked down as his calloused thumb slowly grazed down her shoulder, dragging the strap of her sundress down, revealing the slight tan-line. “Why do you look so surprised?” Matt whispered huskily.

☀︎︎－ With a gentle shrug, she tore her eyes from her shoulder, and onto the triplet’s. “You never －” She cut herself off, realizing how stupid she’d sound if those few words left her mouth. Matt hummed, lifting an eyebrow as a motion for her to continue. He could listen to her for a lifetime. “I don’t like you’ve ever called me that.” The girl admitted. Matt felt his heart collide with the bottom of his gut at her words, wanting to reach up and claw at his neck from the feeling of guilt overtaking his body. It was a sin. A god awful sin, that he never spoke the absolute truth.

☁︎︎－ She gently tugged at the button of his shirt, sand blowing lusciously against the soft skin of his neck as it revealed the silver chain. “Don’t,” His hair blew back with ease from a melodic breeze, giving Matt’s cheeks a light hue of pink as he looked into her eyes with a star-struck gaze. “don’t look so guilty.” The girl breathed out, a soft chuckle not long after. “I don’t recall ever calling you －beautiful.” Oh, but she thought it.

☀︎︎－ Maybe it was the feeling of her tugging at his button up, or the way the setting sun left a radiant tan against her jaw － or maybe it was just her, but Matt couldn’t withhold his impulses. Eyes flicking from her glowing eyes, to her perfect little nose, the scattered freckles along with some sand littered across her cheeks －her lips. Her fucking lips. “Mmph－” A muffled sound of surprise escaped her parted lips as Matt leaned in, delivering a chaste kiss against the supple skin with ease. The camera fell from his hands and swayed around his neck as he cupped her cheeks, pressing the heat of his body into her familiar one. “Is this okay?” He whispered, pulling away to seek her attention. And god, did he have it.

☁︎︎－ She froze for a moment, hesitant. Was it okay? Matt immediately caught the worrisome glimpse on her face, guilt setting in his chest as he cursed to himself, stepping back while running a hand down his jaw. He still felt her lips. “Shit－I’m sorry.” What was he thinking? Matt’s gaze was drew heavenward as he took in the guilt, sucking in a harsh breath as he felt a warm soothe through his body. If it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? Clouds illuminated into his pupils as he silently spoke to the man above, the unspoken prayers too selfish and sinfully cruel for the pure girl to ever know of. He ached for her, for years he needed her. And like many times before, he was pleading for just one night to take back what he lost.

☀︎︎－ Before he could prepare himself, a set of lips that molded against Matt’s perfectly were being smashed against his abruptly. A camera pressed between two chests as he stumbled backward, hands landing behind him on the sand as the couple collided together atop the sandy ground. Soft thighs on either side of his hard ones as she glided a hand down his sharp jawline, needlessly moving her desperate mouth against his panting one. It was rough, but real. So fucking real that Matt wondered if it was ever wrong to begin with.

☁︎︎－ His nose skimmed hers as she pulled a half inch away, lips still parted as the two panted. “It’s okay.” She breathed out, chest heaving softly on his. Matt stilled for a second, eyes fluttering with a deep freeness as he slipped a hand behind her neck, kneading the soft skin in his palm as he nudged her back into his body. A quiet moan escaped her mouth as he ran the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip, a silent gesture for her to let him him. And like a good girl she always was, he felt as her lips slowly parted. “Atta’ girl.” His girl.

☀︎︎－ “Slow down f’me.” She nodded at the gentle demand, but it goes unheard in actions as she presses into him with need. Her core practically grounded down onto the obvious tent in his slacks, unknowingly. Matt kept his cool, the grunt going unnoticed to the girl as she softly rolled her hips down on his cock. “Did you hear me?” He murmured to her lips, heavy eyes rolling up to hers as she whimpered. “M’not goin’ anywhere baby.” Matt said, promise dripping from his sultry voice. “You’ll get what you want when I give it to you.”

☁︎︎－ Two rough hands squeeze her waist, fisting the material of her sundress in his hands as he tugged her closer, emitting a moan as he felt the warmth of her clothed cunt dragging against his slacks. “You’re killing me.” Matt practically gasped out, unable to kiss her whilst simultaneously battling his raging hard on. A shooting boost of pleasure was sent up her core with a burning heat, wetness coating her folds as she went limp in his lap. “Matt,” She cried, dropping her head onto his broad shoulder. “I know dolly, I know.” Much to her delight, Matt’s rough palm slowly slid off into the hem of her sundress, rubbing soft circles into her inner thigh.

☀︎︎－ He knew by the way her legs twitched that she’d attempted clench them around his hand, the action a sad and pitiful fail as his own hard ones kept the two apart. A little whine, right next to his ear. “Somethin’ wrong pretty?” A shiver goes down his spine at the lewd sound, wanting nothing more than to flip her over in the sand and to shove his cock so far into that she could feel him up her damn throat. “Just－do something.” She stressed airily.

☁︎︎－ A hand ran down her hair comfortingly as he muttered a gentle shh’, easily lulling her words into the back of her throat as she gripped Matt’s shoulders. “Was that a demand?” The triplet’s same hand easily fisted her hair in his larger hand, pulling her head from his shoulder so they met eyes. “or am I missing somethin’?” With a sound of regret, tears or frustration glazed her eyes as she frowned down at him. “Please, please Matt.” Ah, there it was.

☀︎︎－ A second went by as he looked into her eyes, littering gazes of adoration on her sun kissed face with every flick of the eye. So fucking perfect, Matt thought. But apparently this second was a second too long, the girl whimpering as she dug her nails into the boy’ shoulders. “Matt,” He drawled out a noncommittal hum, lifting an eyebrow. “What’re－fuck.” It was like the sparks in her had exploded, her body going tense as two slim fingers slowly slid into her drenched heat, Matt’s calloused thumb rolling over her sensitive clit to ease the entrance.

☁︎︎－ He felt the pulse of her walls over the digits, cursing to himself at the tight angle as they molded over her spongey walls. Every move and flick of his Matt’s fingers elicited a new and unexpected sensation, as well as the little provocative gasps that left her lips. “Hurts,” His girl. Matt cooed with a faux sympathy, his bottom lip pouting out with mock as he tilted his head up at her. “Hurts, baby?” At her meek nod, he slipped his fingers from her cunt, wetness tainting her inner thigh as he ran them along her dewy skin. “how’re you suppose’ to take my cock then, huh?” Slowly rubbing circles into her skin, teasing her as she felt more arousal trickled from her slick folds.

☀︎︎－ She murmured something breathily, avoiding eye contact as she shifted uncomfortably on the triplet’s lap. A mix of sexual frustration, tension, and the underlying uncomfortable pressure of Matt’s larger fingers. All of the factors mixed into one left her with a sense of frustration, wanting nothing more than to whine and beg, until he finally gave up the condescending act and gave her what she needed. “Slower, then?” Matt asked softly, gouging her reaction as he gripped her thigh gently. Please, with a small nod, Matt’s lips twitched. Slow it was.

☁︎︎－ Rough pebbles and rocks dug into his one hand that dropped down aside him, resting on the sandy beach to steady both bodies of the couple. A dark cloud crossing above them with an illuminated grey hue that shine down on the horizon with a light aroma of rain that was to come. Finally, Matt’s finger sensually moved aside her undergarment, revealing her pretty little hole as he ran the tip of his index finger between her wet lips. “Slow,” he said as she rocked her hips forward, a thigh twitching against his hard one at the feeling of his rough finger grazing her needy bud. “slow, sweetheart.” Matt’s finger continually itching its way across her mound, slowing down every now and then to press down on a spot that made her moan out onto his shoulder, before going back to dipping into her heat.

☀︎︎－ All it took was half of his one finger to slide in, her teeth nipping at his clothed shoulder as she tried to contain the sounds that pleaded to slip from her lips. “Can’t’ help it, hm?” Matt chuckled meanly, hearing her whine tickle his neck as she rolled her hips forward. The girl couldn’t care anymore － she wanted to, wanted to listen and obey to the command, but she couldn’t. “Grinding down on my hand like it’s my dick,” The triplet said causally, making her moan as she bit down on his shoulder, “fuck.” Matt cursed at the pain, his middle finger bending up into her pussy, rubbing down on a sensitive area that at her legs twitching around him.

☁︎︎－ A small whine escaped the girl’s lips, biting down on her lip as she felt a second finger begin to nudge at her slick opening. “You can take it.” Matt murmured, sensing her hesitation as she tensed in his hold. His index finger slipped between her lips, the walls of her cunt tightening around the finger as he fastened the pace of his middle one, using the friction as a distraction. “there we go,” her entire body twitched, pulsing with a fiery heat as Matt’s knuckle brushed up against her tingling clit. “that’s a good girl.” Fuck me.

☀︎︎－ Matt inwardly groaned to himself, feeling her backside unintentionally grind against his clothed, aching length, despite the current touch he was already giving her. He didn’t speak his concerns, concerns being cumming in his damn slacks within mere minutes if she didn’t stop. “That’s my girl,” no she wasn’t. With a barely legible moan, “No.” Never.

☁︎︎－ Both pain and pleasure pang’s Matthew’s chest as he moans, feeling her ground her ass down on his cock. What was she playing at? Her hips moved at her own accord, rocking back in forth on his finger as he curved it upward. “Ah’ ah’ －” Matt’s free larger hand absentmindedly palmed at her backside, halting her movements with ease. “Patience.” He muttered, a shocked moan escaping her lips as he finally slid his index finger in aside his middle.

☀︎︎－ Patience? A small scoff emitted her lips, holding back the strings of whimpers that begged to leave her lungs as Matt took just then to brush his knuckles up against the walls of her pussy, scissoring his two long fingers up to her fucking spine. “Have I n－ fuck.” Chuckling like the damn sadist he was, Matt’s hand left her ass, promoting the touch to her jaw as he tipped her chin down. “Finish, the sentence.” Or what, she wanted to say. “Were the four years not patient enough for you?”

☁︎︎－ Matt’s eyes darkened from both her words, and her expressionisms as he slid his slick fingers from her heat. Nose crinkling with confusion and a pained glaze along her beautifully drawn eyes as she searched for the right words. “Matt－” Fuck. As if the urge to speak was ripped away from her －in a way it was, her jaw went slack as a silent scream escaped her lips. Matt slammed the two digits into her sopping heat, curling them upward as cum and arousal collected on the ends of the calloused tips. “Baby?” The triplet mocked back, the condescending tone making her moan out. He could fuck her over time and time again and she’d still never be able to resist his touch. After yearning for it for years, months－seconds, and she finally fucking had it.

☀︎︎－Nails dug into his shoulders as she buried her face into her shoulder, small whines hushed against the material of his satin shirt as she felt his thumb begin to roll across her throbbing clit. More, more and more. All she wanted to say was more, but she couldn’t. “Hm?” Matt would taunt every time an incoherent babble came from her bitten lips, making her abdomen clench as the degrading tone hit her ears. “Can’t’ hear you when you’re all fucked out like this, doll.” The boy chuckled, hearing her utter soft ‘no－no’s as he slipped his hand from under her dress.

☁︎︎－ Something was so .. mesmerizing about looking at the girl on his lap as she struggled. The thought was far to sadistic to ever voice, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t think it. “Heree’ we go,” Matt uttered, a small yelp emitting her plump lips as she felt the tip of his cock slowly rock between her arousal coated lips. Belt of his buckle long unclasped as he bunched the flowing skirt of her sundress to her hips, biting his lip as he watched inch after inch slowly get lost in the tight grip of her cunt. Jesus fuck － a throaty groan tore from his lungs, throwing his head back as she tightened around his hard length. Don’t cum, don’t cum － please god.

☀︎︎－ It didn’t matter that Matt had went still for the few seconds, because the girl could still feel him everywhere. Even with zero effort or movements put into the action, every fucking inch caressed and pressed up against a spot or wall that would have her thighs shaking within seconds. “Matt,” she gasped, feeling his dick jostle inside of her throbbing heat as he adjusted his hips, hitting an unknown spot. “I know, I know.” Matt breathed out airily, sounding breathless and on thin ice himself.

☁︎︎－ Along with the insatiable pleasure and urge to draw out the desire, came with an uncomfortable stretch. After all she wasn’t a virgin, Matt was just big. Sucking in a breath, her lips rolled forward, attempting to alleviate some of the suffocating pressure. “Fuck,” Matt groaned, chest moving up and down as she whined. “Sorry- I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. Practically milking his cock of everything it had as she clamped around him, feeling her pulse with an undeniable need as she pressed her chest into his.

☀︎︎－ His two hands shakily molded around her hips, gripping harshly as he gently guided her movements with ease. Matt went slow at first, lifting her a few inches off, the sound of her breath hitching a warning to slide back down, before doing it all over again. Eventually the whines turned into moans, strings of whimpers as he felt her tighten before un-tensing as the walls of her pussy sucked him in like her life depended on it. “Like’ your little pussy was made for me, huh?” He moaned out, closing his eyes with a fluttering need in his belly. If only he’d known earlier.

☁︎︎－ Seeing Matt in such a vulnerable state had her dripping, pupils growing in size as she took in his facial expressions with every single movement. She was always the one on the spotlight. It felt good to see the roles reversed, the triplet becoming a mindless little thing under her control. “Good?” She whispered, cocking her head as two hands fell on his broad shoulders. He murmured something incoherently, small whines and whimpers leaving his pink lips as she lifted herself from his lap, before dropping back down with a breathy moan. So good.

☀︎︎－ Matt, on the other hand, was going criminally insane. Too fucking slow, he thought as she rose up from his throbbing length, chasing the release he so desperately yearned for. And it hurt, fucking ached with a tingling stimulant as she clamped down on him while lifting her hips, as if her cunt was begging to stay. “Fuck－please.” Matt groaned out, mind void of any embarrassment as he felt his stomach tighten. “Please, what?” Jesus.

☁︎︎－ His neck craned to look up at her, swallowing a guttural groan that pleaded to escape his lungs as she halted her pleasurable pace of movement. “Just－” A brow raised down at him, she patiently hummed. Two red painted finger nails tucked brunette strands of hair from his forehead, Matt letting out a soft grunt as his eyes fluttered shut. “Just … fuck me.” The girl’s hand froze, lips parting at the words. “Please.” She was done for.

☀︎︎－ The girl was positive that she’d do anything Matt begged for if he did it that tone, biting down on her lip as she slowly rocked against his cock. The triplet let out another pained groan, hearing her wince as his fingers dug into the soft skin of her hips. That would be the last of her worries. “Forgive me.” Her eyes fluttered open with a confused hum, watching as Matt fed his bottom lip between his teeth. Forgive him－an abrupt moan tore from her throat, pain shooting up her core as Matt suddenly lifted her all the way from his cock, before slamming her back down on the dripping length with a moan. “Matt!” She gasped, body tensing as he bent his neck back.

☁︎︎－ For a split second everything went silent to the boy’s ears, only registering the sound of his pumping heart, and the heaving of his own chest. Up and down. Swallowing thickly, a choked moan finally left his lips, small hairs sticking to the skin of his forehead as he peered into her eyes. There was no doubt a puddle of arousal and pre-cum between the two bodies, his eyes flicking down and holding back a groan at the sight. Her pussy, raw and stretched around his thick length as she shifted in need, his dick slick with her dripping wetness as it made for an easier ride.

☀︎︎－ Fingers digging into her soft skin as she moaned, face scrunched with pleasure as he lifted her from his cock, slamming her down with such a desperate persistence. The tip of his cock nudged against her fluttering bud with every thrust, sending shockwaves of a tingling sensation up her core. “Fuck－Matt.” The girl cried, feeling her stomach tighten. “Let it go, do it for me.” Over and over. His own lips raised with every thrust, pathetically rocking his cock up into her with small whines. “Gonna cum f’me?”

☁︎︎－ At her meek nod, Matt trailed a hand down her hip, caressing the skin ever so softly as his thumb slowly began to roll over her clit. “Holy －fuck,” Un-fucking-real. Every retraction of his throbbing length was an opening for his skilled fingers, pressing down and rolling over the needy bundle before she slid down onto his cock with a breathy moan. With a final press of his middle finger against her opening, she let out a throaty whimper－gasping as her stomach clenched. “Oh my god－my fucking god.” A hand entrapped the nape of her neck, Matt’s calloused thumb pressing into her pulse as he gripped her trachea. Lips smashed onto hers as she released all over his pulsing dick, squeezing around him as he groaned.

☀︎︎－ Her walls suffocated him perfectly, a moan tearing from his throat as he felt the ball in his abdomen start to unravel. Magical, eyes rolling back into his skull as he panting into her mouth, rope after ropes of cum buried so deep inside her dripping cunt that she swore she could taste the saltiness on her tongue. “S’so fuckin good,” Matt moaned, biting at her bottom lip as he came down from his high.

☁︎︎－ The couple sat in silence for a few seconds, mostly due to the sticky aftermath of their sinful act that was dripping onto her thighs, wetness slick on the leg of his slacks. At least it wasn’t sand. Drip, drip, drip. The girl flinched a bit, cursing as a dribble of wetness landless on her cheek. “What－” Simultaneously, Matt drew his gaze upward, as well as the perplexed girl. Shit. The sky, grey and cloudy, a strong rumbling storming down at them as the clouds enveloped their bodies.

☀︎︎－ Groaning softly, Matt met her eyes. “Well..” The boy bit down on hips bottom lip before speaking, a small smirk growing across his bitten lips. “pretty sure that’s god crying at what he just witnessed.” Matt. The girl sighed, laughing airily as she playfully swatted at his chest, her forehead falling onto his shoulder. “Shut up.” More water fell against her open backed dress, drenching the couple’s hair as they sat in silence.

☁︎︎－ Drip, drip, drip. “Sit up.” Nose crinkling, she lifted her head from Matt’s shoulder. A camera met her eyes, Matt leaning back on one hand as he rose the strap, a devilish grin on his lips as he pressed the button. “Say New York.” Oh my god. Snap. Light shimmered across her nose beautifully, hair wet from both rain and sweat from their previous encounter. Lips red and raw from the impact of his, a seductive glimmer in her eyes as she leaned back. Still on his fucking cock.

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