#staring at pictures of him. yearning...

[whamss]

Behold

My most precious little guy

The cutest guy

My most favorite creature

A gift

[hana-bobo-finch]

jørgan clan my beloved. you guys are so messed up

[seumyo]

yearning drunk!husband ushijima wakatoshi.

NOTE. contains a bit of alcohol content—though nothing too explicit or anything concerning <33

It always started the same way—kind of like an inside joke that grew wings, feathers, a tab, and Ushijima’s name on the reservation list.

Ushijima never initiated going out drinking with his Schweiden Adlers teammates. In fact, he rarely said anything about it at all. It was always someone else who mentioned it after a game. Always someone else who slung an arm over his shoulder and declared, “C’mon, Ushiwaka, we have to celebrate,” even though Ushijima had never once expressed interest in alcohol, bar food, or drunken conversations.

Still, he always went.

Because it’d be rude if he didn’t at least stay for a few minutes, he thinks.

Sometimes he showed up in his team windbreaker, sometimes in a long, dark gray coat that made him look like a trench-wearing monument of silence. And he never said no, even when the clamor of celebration was already grating at the edges of his patience.

Tonight was one of those nights.

They’d won by the skin of their teeth—an overtime set against a grueling opponent, the kind of match that made even the benchwarmers feel like champions by the end. So of course Heiwajima had started the round-up in the locker room. Hoshiumi had shouted over everyone about their lucky bar down the street, and within twenty minutes, the entire team had found themselves in their regular private suite.

Ushijima sat at the end of the table, his back straight, a glass in front of him filled with alcohol he didn’t particularly like. His teammates were loud and loose and chaotic—laughing at Sokolov trying to arm-wrestle the bar’s bouncer, clapping every time someone dropped a fork, and yelling across the table in at least three different languages.

“A thousand yen says he’ll ask about his wife in twenty minutes,” Hoshiumi said quietly, leaning toward their captain, Hirugami Fukurou.

“You’re giving him way too much credit,” Romero replied, fondly grinning. “He gets wistful around minute twelve.”

“He gets wistful the moment he sits down.”

Ushijima was unmoved. He stared at his drink, took a single sip, and let it rest in his hand. He didn’t participate in the yelling, the toasts, or the story someone was animatedly telling about a missed serve from three seasons ago. He just existed—quietly, stoically—as a satellite to the chaos.

Except, of course, they all knew he was waiting.

He always was.

There was a pattern to the transformation. First, he’d sit there like stone. Then he’d blink a little more slowly. His brows would draw together—not in anger, but in vague confusion, like he was lost in a thought he couldn’t solve. His fingers would move against his glass, not to drink but to fidget, just a little.

And then…

“Has anyone seen my phone?” Ushijima asked, barely louder than the buzz of conversation.

Hoshiumi slid it across the table immediately. “Right here, Ushiwaka. Sorry! We took a few pictures here and there.”

“Thank you.”

He looked down at the screen. It was still lit with the last message from you from earlier that day: Good luck, baby. Don’t forget to stretch your left shoulder. He’d never replied—he never did, not when he was already in headspace—but now, he stared at it like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“You want to text her?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly teasing, which Ushijima didn’t catch onto.

Ushijima didn’t answer. He opened the thread and typed a few letters. Deleted them. Typed something else. Backspaced. Then just stared.

And then finally: “She hasn’t replied.”

His teammates laughed.

“There it is!”

“It’s only been seventeen minutes! I win!”

“No, you cheated. I said ten, and he didn’t even check his phone until minute twelve!”

“Shh, shh, look at him—he’s pouting.”

“Wait, is this the pout phase? I thought that came after the silent brooding phase.”

“Technically we’re entering pout-brood overlap. It’s a dangerous time.”

Ushijima didn’t argue. He simply set the phone down again and folded his hands in front of him. Kageyama leaned over.

“You want me to call her for you, Ushijima-san?”

Ah, yes. Kageyama was too nice for his own good. Trying to enhance his socialization and trying to lessen his awkwardness with his teammates when the conversation didn’t revolve around volleyball.

Ushijima nodded. Just once. Immediately. “Yes.”

...

“Amazing! He’s not even trying to hide it.”

“Can you imagine being that in love?”

“He just wants his wife. Look at him. He’s a whole sad poem in one sitting.”

“She’s gonna get here, and he’s gonna light up like a lantern.”

“May this love run me over.”

Kageyama stood and walked a few paces away from the table, already dialing your number. Meanwhile, the others watched Ushijima sip his drink again—not because he wanted it, but because it gave his hands something to do. His eyes were glued to the screen even though no new notifications had appeared.

Romero leaned in conspiratorially to Hirugami. “Do you think she talks to him in, like, soft tones? Calls him ‘baby’ and stuff?”

“I think so,” he shrugs. “I think they’re sweet like that.”

“Aw, young love.���

The teasing continued, but it softened. Because underneath the jokes and the laughs was a sort of awe.

Their teammate—so serious, so focused, so unreadable on court—was completely and utterly soft when it came to his wife. Not in a loud way. Not in any way that could be easily teased, really. It was quiet. Heavy. Real.

When Kageyama returned, he had a pleased expression. “She’s on her way. Said she just got off work and is driving over.”

Ushijima gave another slow blink.

“Thank you.”

Kageyama nods. Somehow they manage to have conversations even if they just continue nodding to each other.

As soon as Kageyama said it, his phone buzzed with a new message. He didn’t even need to open it. He could tell by the way his entire body relaxed by a single, barely noticeable degree.

Sorry, hun. Just got off work. Are you okay?

He replied.

I’m okay. I miss you.

And then he set the phone down and folded his hands again, this time with more calm. More certainty. You were coming. That was all he needed to know.

The others noticed the shift immediately.

“He smiled.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“He did! Don’t argue with me; I saw it. It was micro. But it counted.”

“He’s already halfway out the door with his heart.”

“Watch, the second she walks through that door, he’ll go full puppy mode.”

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, the door opened. A gust of cold air followed you inside, along with the soft jingle of the bar’s entrance bell. You spotted them easily—your eyes landing on Ushijima before anything else. And his entire body seemed to change shape.

He stood up—not quickly, but instantly, with a kind of gravity no one else in the room had.

You smiled as you approached, slipping out of your coat and brushing off the cold that nipped your nose softly. “Hi, love,” you greeted softly. “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said, already reaching for his jacket.

As he shrugged it on, you turned to the table. “Hope he wasn’t too much trouble?”

Hoshiumi leaned on the table with a grin. “[Name], your husband is the definition of ‘not trouble.’ We’re just grateful you came to collect him before he sighed himself into the carpet.”

“Tell them what he said!” someone shouted.

“He asked if anyone had seen his phone like it was a national emergency.”

“And he didn’t pout—he brooded. Like a man out of a romantic novel.”

“I think I did,” Ushijima just nodded at their comments about him.

He then stood by quietly, waiting for you to finish your goodbyes. When you looped your arm through his, he leaned ever so slightly toward you.

As they left, Romero raised his glass.

“To [Name]’s husband,” he declared. The table cheered.

Outside, as you two walked toward the car, you glanced up at him, fingers tightening around his arm.

“You really okay?” you asked.

He hummed. Then, in that low, steady voice only you ever got to hear, it softened—

“I missed you,” he said again. “They were loud. I wanted to see you very much.”

You smiled and gave his arm a firm, loving squeeze. “Well. I’m here now.”

And... yeah.

That’s what he’s been wanting to hear all night.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[luvcaleb]

EYES ON ME.

nsfw (18+). i really did not mean for this to be a whole fic but i just kept typing. and typing. and typing... anyway, here are the usual cws: blowjob, cunnilingulus, corruption kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, marathon sex (sylus is starved), more yearning than you'd expect from a sugar daddy fic, and side note that sylus is older than you here (you decide how much lol). likes and reblogs will be very appreciated!

pov: you're a barista at the cafe sylus usually orders at and he overhears you saying you want to try being a sugar baby to make more money.

sylus generally avoids interacting with ordinary citizens. for one, they live in a separate world from him, and two, he'd rather not drag other people into unnecessary trouble.

you are no exception to this rule he placed upon himself. or at least, you should be.

but he can't help being drawn to your sunny smile, undeterred despite his intimidating appearance. he can't help but relax his shoulders when you greet him “welcome!” in a warm, gentle voice. he can't help but ask you how your day went, listen to your complaints, and chuckle fondly when you say something particularly funny.

and he can't help but notice how your sunny smile has diminished the past few weeks, weighed down by late nights and endless work juggling several part-time jobs to get by and pay the debt your father left behind.

so when he overhears you saying you want to try having a sugar daddy, he moves against his better judgment.

it's not hard to track you down in a shady site. even easier to lure you with an enticing price, better than any old, rich fool can offer.

and really, sylus doesn't plan on doing anything to you. this is somewhat like a donation, he convinces himself. that's all there is to it. he's not being possessive.

he pays you for your time. feels amused seeing you sit beside him with an almost visible question mark on your face, not knowing what to do. sure, you have a general idea what sugar babies do, but it was probably not simply watching an old romance movie while snacking on finger foods.

you think it must be some sort of foreplay, but he drives you home. the next time he calls you over, you eat together in a who-knows-how-many-stars restaurant in a tall skyscraper overlooking the city, which ends in a similar fashion. in the next, he takes you shopping and fills your closet with luxury brands, yet again ending the day with a drive to your shabby apartment.

and it's nice. it's really nice. to the point it's too good to be true. from the very beginning when you learned your client wasn't going to be an old geezer, you already thought you lucked out. but with sylus practically treating you as his girlfriend, leaving nothing to be desired, things couldn't be better. you can't even consider the possibility of being sylus's side chick that he's cheating with because there's nothing for him to gain from this arrangement. if you really think about it, sylus is basically throwing you all his money.

you think you can leave things like this. after all, you have nothing to complain about.

but on one of your gigs taking up a friend's waitress shift at a fancy restaurant, you see sylus with a woman.

they're both well-dressed. sylus always is, but now even more so with his styled hair and clean, crisp suit. the woman looks gorgeous in her champagne dress, all smooth silk and beautiful curves. the men around her can't help but stare.

he leads her to a table. pulls out her chair for her. smirks at her as they exchange friendly banter, looking like the picture-perfect couple.

a cold settles deep in your chest, even if you have no right to feel bad. you don't have the right to feel upset because it isn't like you're bound by any serious relationship.

but for the rest of the night, you try to avoid their table. you hope he hasn't taken notice of you, but that's probably wishful thinking considering you've felt an intense gaze on your back all this while.

eventually, they leave, and so do you. as you walk home, you try to dissect why you felt so awful. is it because he might cut you off now that he's interested in another woman? it must be. once he breaks off whatever you have, you're going to have a hard time finding someone else to mooch off of. you'll be back to the same old dreary lifestyle; the magic has worn off, and cinderella has to be miserable again.

but it isn't just that, even if it should be. you shouldn't feel so shitty seeing him with another girl if you only saw him as a client. somewhere along the line, you've started appreciating his quiet smiles, his teasing smirk, his kind gaze. there's something soft about his innocent touches, tucking your hair behind your ear or his thumb wiping away cake frosting on your cheek.

and you hate the idea of him doing all of that to that woman he was with.

“you should pay more attention to your surroundings, sweetheart.”

sylus interrupts your thoughts. you turn to look at the street beside you where you find sylus leaning against his car. waiting.

you hesitate only for a moment. you get in, and he drives you home. the silence is unsettlingly tense, so different from the comfortable quiet you've grown used to in your past drives.

eventually, you bring yourself to speak. “let's go to your house.”

sylus says, “i haven't asked for your services tonight.” it's soft, teasing, and most importantly, it's not a no.

the familiar manor comes into view, grand and imposing as always. he opens the car door for you. asks to carry your bag. unlocks the front door.

he drops it when you push him down the plush sofa, catching him by surprise. you've never quite seen him as stunned as he is now, stock still as you press your mouth against his. clumsy. unsure. yet eager. his fingers tangle in your hair, unmoving for just a moment, but soon he manages to tear himself away.

“i didn't ask for you to do this.”

he hasn't. he probably never intended to do this sort of thing in the first place.

but it isn't like he doesn't want to. his voice is strained. he's still holding you, as if afraid you'll pull away once you realize this is a bad idea. he's staring at you like you're the only thing that matters.

and you realize that you enjoy this attention. you like having his hands around you. you like him doting on you. you like him looking at you.

you don't want him to look at anyone else.

and, you come to realize, you want this just as much as he does.

---

there's a sense of clumsiness when you wrap your hands around his cock, hesitant and unpracticed. you seem as if you've never done this before. sylus should not be as thrilled as he feels at this discovery.

perhaps he should be a little turned off. but his dick feels the hardest it's ever been when you start giving kitten licks to his tip, innocently looking up at him through your lashes like you're asking for praise.

he murmurs filth under his breath when your lips close around his head, sucking at a spot that makes him shudder. he forces his hips to stay absolutely still even if he wants to destroy your throat. he can't afford to scare you away now. not when you're finally within his reach.

yet sylus can't help but run his hand through your hair, pulling you closer. making you take him in deeper. guiding your head as you bob up and down. you're gurgling around his cock, spit dripping from your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes. so obviously struggling but still sucking more of him in, eager to please. you choke when his cock hits the back of your throat, and still, you hollow your cheeks, licking everywhere you could.

and that does it for him, making him finish much, much quicker than he means to. his cum fills your mouth, warm thick streams that overflow from your lips. he doesn't expect you to swallow, ready to catch with his palm, but you gulp it all down like a good girl.

sylus's chest fills with deep satisfaction. he tells you well-deserved praise as he showers your face with pecks, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes bitter but oh so nauseatingly sweet.

he wants to reward you for being a good girl, you he pulls you to the edge of the mattress, pressing down on your thighs as he digs in. the first lick on your pretty pussy makes you yelp, legs kicking out in surprise. he gives your thighs a warning squeeze, and by the second, you're obediently staying as still as you can, whimpering to your palm.

you taste as sweet as you look, and sylus hums contently as he licks up all your slick and it never runs out. you moan so nicely for him when he laps at your clit, continuously flicking his tongue at the small bud, and you all but scream when he sucks it hard, tangling your fingers in his hair and jerking up your hips.

he doesn't complain when you ride his face, staring intently at your expression twisted in pleasure. your mouth is shaped around an ‘o’, eyes rolling back as he dares to slip his tongue inside your hole. he rubs your engorged clit with a rough thumb, fucking in and out your pussy with his tongue, groaning amidst the lewd symphony of squelches.

he hasn't planned on touching you, no. but he's thought of it countless times on nights he felt especially lonely after you left. imagined you on his lap, fondling your soft chest, playing with your cute pussy. he wondered what spots made you feel good, where you'd be sensitive. what faces you'd make when he touched them.

sylus doesn't have to wonder anymore, committing the sinful sight to memory. you've always been cute, but he thinks you're even more adorable now, squirming as he gently eases a finger inside you. you're wet enough to fit two, but it's still quite tight; it might take a while before you can take him in. he presses a reassuring kiss on your inner thigh when he finds your g-spot, telling you to stay still and be good.

so sylus spends a bit of time between your legs, adding more fingers as he laps away at your clit. at your first orgasm, he fucks you through it, not stopping his hand until the spray of cum has ceased. by the second, you've drenched his sheets and his arm, but by the way you're moaning his name almost incoherently, you don't want him to stop.

on the verge of a third, a fourth finger teasing at your entrance, you're begging him to fuck you. sylus has felt close to bursting for a while, so he doesn't complain. he rubs his cock between your wet folds, tapping at your clit with the head. slicking his cock with your juices as he marvels at how tiny you seem under him, the length of him intimidatingly massive laying on your stomach.

when he pops the tip of his cock inside, you clench around him immediately, warm and so goddamn tight. he can't slide it in one, smooth thrust; he fucks it inside bit by bit, observing your face for any signs of pain, but all he sees is a dazed, drooling slut, crying out his name and for him to put it all inside her. he shushes you, reasoning he has to be slow, but he's very well on the edge of his patience.

when his cock is halfway in, you turn into a shuddering, sobbing mess. his tip has poked somewhere sensitive, and when he grinds against it, you squirt hard, spraying cum on his abs. he laughs in disbelief, meanly rubbing tight circles on your clit to make your orgasm last longer.

once sylus has finally bottomed out, he whispers endless compliments to your ear, hands roaming around your skin. he can't stop his hips from thrusting, tirelessly fucking in and out of your soaked cunt with vigor he hasn't had in years. sylus doesn't consider himself the vocal type, but now he can't shut up about how pretty you are, how good and sweet you are for him. how nice and tight your cute pussy feels, how you're made to take in his huge cock.

he uses you the way he imagines in his dirty fantasies, like a whore he pays to bed. yet at the same time, you're his precious little princess, the one person he shouldn't hurt. the one person he should treat with utmost care. the one person that should stay untainted by the filthy world.

but you're moaning so loud, enjoying being his little slut. you want to be fucked hard and fast, fingerprints on your hips and waist. you want to be bred full of his cum and do it all over again. you want to be his.

so sylus takes you in all the ways he knows how. on your back. on your knees. on his lap. he lets you ride him, fucking up into your cunt when you get tired. he takes you against the wide, clear window panes, uncaring if someone might have seen. he fucks you while standing, holding up all of your weight, making you watch yourself on the mirror as he thrusts inside. he never once pulls out when he cums, your pussy crammed with his hot, milky loads.

you make a mess everywhere, but you don't have time to worry about it. you don't even worry about the chances of getting pregnant, being pumped full of sylus's cum. even if you did end up pregnant, sylus keeps going on and on about wanting you to be his pretty wife, that he won't let you want for nothing, that he'll provide for your every need if you'll just stay with him.

and in the face of his love, bordering on desperate obsession, you don't even know why you were ever worried about him falling for anyone else.

from the moment he laid eyes on you, he couldn't look away.

[xhyjin]

husband toji! who would try his best to spoil you, even when he’s struggling financially. you want a romantic getaway? don’t worry, because he’s already saving up, cutting corners wherever he can, just to see the joy on your face when he surprises you with the trip of your dreams.

husband toji! he isn’t the most romantic man, but he tries his best. when he notices the small smile on your face as you watch a man surprise his partner with flowers hidden behind his back, he makes a mental note. the next time he’s away on a mission that lasts too long, he shows up at your door with a slightly crumpled bouquet in hand, looking a little awkward but secretly proud when he sees your face light up.

husband toji! who loves when you fall asleep on him—not just because he enjoys running his fingers through your hair as you rest on his chest, but also because it’s the perfect opportunity to snap a picture of the two of you. with a smirk on his face in the photo, he sends it to shiu with the caption, “bet you don’t have a cutie laying on you right now.” it always earns him an immediate middle-finger reply from shiu, which only makes his grin wider.

husband toji! who never expected to find himself in this position again—so lovestruck and soft for you that it sometimes scares him. he’s torn between wanting to bare his soul to you and protect you from the weight of his past. he doesn’t know if he should tell you about his late wife and the son he left behind, afraid it might change the way you see him, but also yearning for you to understand the parts of him he’s kept hidden for so long.

husband toji! who knows it’s wrong, knows he should let you be independent, but he can’t help himself. when you think he’s at work, he’s actually following you from a distance, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re safe. the guilt of shadowing you like a stalker eats at him, but the thought of failing to protect you is even worse. so, he watches quietly, torn between trusting the world and trusting only himself to keep you safe.

husband toji! who finds himself spending money on “useless” and “childish” things like cute plushies or clothes simply because they remind him of you. he’ll grumble about it under his breath, but the moment he sees your delighted smile when he gives them to you, he knows it’s worth every penny.

husband toji! who doesn’t prepare for missions by training or strategizing beforehand, but by taking a long shower using your body wash, your shampoo, your conditioner, and your lotion—anything that smells like you. he sprays your perfume all over his body and clothes, not caring if anyone (shiu) questions why he smells so feminine and sweet. the comforting scent of you clings to him like a shield, grounding him when he’s away and reminding him of the warmth waiting for him at home.

husband toji! who secretly adores when you ask for his help with the little things. need help putting on your necklace for date night? he’s already behind you, gently moving your hair aside, his fingers brushing your skin as he clasps it on, all while staring at you lovingly through the mirror. need help opening a jar? don’t worry—he’s leaning over you in an instant, taking the jar from your delicate hands and twisting it open with ease. before you can thank him, he dips a finger into the jam, tastes it, and smirks, “almost as sweet as you,” he whispers in your ear, walking away just as he catches the sight of your flustered reflection in the marble counter.

husband toji! who sometimes forgets the strength of his own body, so he’s always extra, extra gentle with you. whether it’s holding your hand, pulling you into a hug, or brushing a strand of hair from your face, he moves with deliberate care, afraid of even the slightest chance of hurting you. his touch, though strong, always feels like the softest embrace, as if he’s protecting something he treasures more than anything.

husband toji! who picks up your hobbies just to have more in common with you, even if they’re things he never imagined himself doing—like painting, baking, or knitting. at first, he fumbles awkwardly, grumbling about how “this isn’t his thing,” but before long, he finds himself enjoying it more than he expected. the real joy, though, comes from seeing your excitement as you share these moments together, making him realize he’d try anything if it meant spending more time with you.

husband toji! who, after a gut-wrenching moment during one of his missions, realizes he doesn’t want to do it anymore. he doesn’t want to risk his life when all he wants is to spend it with you. knowing it’ll be hard to convince shiu, he brings you along under the pretense that you’re just meeting his friend. as you take a seat beside him, your face glowing with excitement at finally meeting one of his friends, toji and shiu sit across and beside you, their expressions serious as they speak in coded phrases to keep you blissfully unaware of toji’s real job. toji glances at you, his heart softening at your smile, and silently vows to make his case to shiu—because you’re his reason to walk away from it all.

husband toji! who will gladly hold your purse without hesitation when it keeps slipping off your shoulder, or carry your heels in one hand while giving you his slippers to wear, walking barefoot himself without a second thought. he doesn’t care about the stares or the inconvenience—your comfort is all that matters to him, and he’d do anything to make sure you’re at ease.

husband toji! whose favorite hobby, out of all the ones he picked up from you, is coming home to find you asleep on his side of the bed, wearing his tee and boxers, clutching his pillow to your chest. he gently removes the pillow, replacing it with himself as he slides into bed, pulling you close. with his arms around you, he kisses your forehead and whispers softly in your ear how grateful he is for you and how deeply he loves you, even if you can only hear him in your dreams.

[maskedbyghost]

Part 2 of our boy Simon yearning for you.

The ache never eased. It just deepened, settled somewhere behind his ribs and made a home there, like a wound he couldn’t stop picking at. Days turned into nights, and nights into days, and every moment he wasn’t hearing your voice or reading your texts was a slow torture.

It wasn’t just the casual meetups, the flirty messages, or the teasing that made his pulse race. It was the way you’d brush his arm when you were laughing, the way you’d lean into him like it was the most natural thing in the world, the way you’d say his name—not “Riley” like before, but “Simon.”

It killed him. It absolutely destroyed him.

He wanted to be better than this, to be cooler, to be calm, but he wasn’t. He was coming undone at the seams, unraveling every time you were near and aching when you were gone.

He’d find himself waking in the middle of the night, breathing hard, reaching for his phone to check if you’d messaged, to see if you’d thought of him in the quiet hours when the world was asleep. And when you hadn’t, he’d drop the phone on the pillow next to him and close his eyes, trying to swallow the bitterness that rose in his throat.

Sometimes he’d dream of you, and wake up with your name on his lips, the sheets tangled around his legs, his skin burning. He’d lie there for a long time, staring at the ceiling, wondering how much longer he could take this. How much longer could he pretend he was fine, pretend he was just your friend, when every cell in his body screamed for more?

He started pulling away, just a little. Shorter replies. Fewer emojis. He’d leave your messages on read for a little too long, trying to convince himself that if he created a little space, the longing might ease. But it didn’t.

You noticed, of course. You weren’t oblivious. One night, after another one of those meetups where he’d smiled too tightly and laughed a little too late, you caught him outside the pub. The cold bit at his skin, but the look in your eyes made him feel like he was on fire.

“Simon,” you said. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he said, as he looked away.

“Don’t give me that. You’ve been... distant. Did I do something?”

God, you sounded worried, and that just made it worse. Because the last thing he wanted was for you to think you’d done anything wrong. It was all him. All his fault.

“No,” he said roughly, running a hand over his face. “You didn’t do anything. I just... I’m trying to get my head straight.”

Your brows drew together, and you stepped closer, close enough that he could feel the warmth of you through the cold air. “Simon, you can talk to me.”

And for a moment, he almost did. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, thick and heavy—I miss you so much it hurts. I think about you all the damn time. I can’t stand being near you because I’m falling apart inside.

But he couldn’t. Because if he said it, if he let it all spill out, he didn’t know what you’d do. Didn’t know if you’d pull away, if you’d laugh it off, or if you’d tell him you didn’t feel the same.

So he just gave you a smile and said, “I’m fine. Really. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

And he left you there on the sidewalk, staring after him, while his heart cracked open in his chest...

It was unbearable.

Days passed. He told himself he was getting better at pretending, that if he ignored the ache long enough, it would go away, and that if he kept his distance from you, he’d get over this.

But of course, it didn’t work.

Every time he saw your name flash on his screen, his chest would tighten. Every time you laughed, it was like a fist closing around his throat. Every time you touched him, even casually, even just a brush of fingers as you passed him a drink or steadied him with a hand on his shoulder, he felt like his skin was going to tear open.

And then, one night, it was just too much.

You’d sent him a message—something stupid, really. A picture of your dinner with a comment like “Guess who forgot to buy pasta sauce? 😂” And he’d stared at it, thumb hovering over his screen, the ache in his chest unbearable.

He couldn’t do this anymore. So he called you.

You picked up on the second ring, your voice warm and a little breathless. “Hey, Simon. Everything okay?”

“No.” His voice was rough. “No, it’s not.”

There was a pause, a soft intake of breath on your end. “What’s wrong?”

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing his living room, his heart pounding so hard it echoed in his skull. “I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t pretend everything’s fine. I can’t keep acting like I’m just your friend. I can’t... I can’t stand being near you and not—”

“Not what?” you whispered.

“Not have you,” he said hoarsely. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long it’s driving me insane. And I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when I’m not.”

“Simon,” you said softly, “why didn’t you say anything before?”

He let out a sharp, broken laugh, a sound like something cracking apart. “Because I was scared. Because I didn’t know if you felt the same. Because I thought maybe you’d laugh it off, or tell me I was reading too much into things. Because... because it’s you.”

You were quiet for a beat, then said, “Come over.”

“What?”

“Come over,” you repeated. “Right now.”

He didn’t even think, didn’t hesitate. He was out the door before he realized he hadn’t grabbed his keys.

The drive to your place was a blur, the streets smearing past in streaks of light and shadow. He didn’t remember turning off the engine or locking the door. He only remembered the way his hands trembled as he knocked, the way his breath caught when you opened the door, standing there barefoot in leggings and an old sweatshirt, your hair a little messy like you’d been running your hands through it.

“Hi,” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

He stepped past you, and the second the door clicked shut behind him, it was like a dam breaking.

“I tried,” he said, his voice rough, breathless. “I tried so fucking hard to stay away. To act like I didn’t care. To tell myself this was enough. But it’s not. It’s not enough. I need you. I need to know you’re mine, that I can touch you, kiss you, be with you—”

You didn’t let him finish. You surged forward, grabbed the front of his jacket, and pulled him down into a kiss so hard and desperate it made his head spin. He stumbled back a step, hands coming up to cradle your face, your jaw, your hair. You were warm and soft and real, and he felt himself falling, falling so fast it was like the world was tilting beneath him.

“Simon,” you gasped against his mouth, fingers threading through his hair. “I’ve wanted this too. I was just... waiting for you to say something.”

A broken, breathless laugh escaped him, his forehead pressed to yours. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling, your lips brushing his.

He kissed you again, slower this time, pouring everything he’d been holding back into it—all the longing, all the frustration, all the desperation that had been eating him alive for months. His hands roamed, memorizing the curve of your hips, the softness of your waist, and the line of your spine. You were here, you were his, and for the first time in so long, he felt whole.

“Stay,” you whispered, lips against his throat. “Don’t go home tonight.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he murmured, and when he kissed you again, it wasn’t desperate—it was everything he’d been aching for.

---------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid @syofrelief @avgdestitute @sheepdogchick3 @echo9821 @imalapdog

[rhaenyraeri]

Co-Star Tensions - Jack O’Connell

based off this behind the scenes picture hehe

minors dni!! 18+ only!!

Part 1, Part 2, Interlude, Part 3

Summary: You and your costars were called back for some reshoots, and one night after a long day of filming, something unexpected happens.

Pairing: Jack O’Connell x fem!Reader (and technically Remmick x fem!Reader?)

Warnings: it is filth y’all, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, there be’est role play involved, some swearing, i’m not great at writing smut unfortunately

Note: this is an rpf (real person fic) so i encourage that if you don’t like that, please keep scrolling. i’ve never wrote one of these before but i felt compelled to lol. also if there are any mistakes pls let me know 🫶

The tension could, almost literally, be cut with a knife on the set. Everyone could tell, but no one would say it. They wouldn’t speak about how you and Jack had scenes just barely near each other, but you both gravitated closer. No one would dare mention how hard you locked in on him when filming the scene with vampire Bert, how he sat in the rocking chair covered in fake blood.. there was something about it. Something, dare you say, carnal, was awakening in you.

The nights you yearned to touch him, yearned to just have your hands on him, sexually or not. The nights just hoping he felt the same way. Just watching him in his element, such a talented actor and great man, having the honor to work alongside him. He just had that charm about him, and that charm resonated into Remmick. You wanted him, and you wanted Remmick. Two birds, one stone.

There were just a few nights of filming left, and the two of you had spoken earlier in the day about how sad it was to say goodbye to a wonderful cast and to people you’d grown to call friends. Some scenes needed some touch ups, and others need reshoots due to new ideas flourishing from the director.

—————

Walking past the set to your makeup artist’s camper, you noticed a figure in the dark. Leaned back in the rocking chair, in the corner of the darkened room used for a reshoot earlier that day. The light in the corner cast a slight shadow onto the figure and you stopped to get a better look. It was Jack, still dressed in the bloody Remmick costume from the scene filmed earlier with Joan and Bert. The way he looked at you after ran chills up your spine. He caught you staring from the sidelines of the crew. Tensions were already high due to your character and Jack’s being romantic partners, and having to say filthy shit to each other had you reeling, yearning for it to have meaning behind it.

“Hey baby,” he spoke, that thick southern drawl that Remmick had came out. Your mouth dropped slightly, your hands holding your belongings slowly lowering. He was staring right at you, that was meant for you. He slowly began rocking, eyes never leaving you. “You gonna come on over here, darlin’? I’ve been waitin’ for you.”

Oh, what the southern drawl did to you. You didn’t think it’d corral you into him like this but it did. That thick accent made you swoon, in and out of character. Seeing him calling out to you, and you alone, warmed you up.

“Come on now, lass. You just gonna leave ol’ Rem hangin’?”

Ah. So this is how he’s gonna be. Jack wants you, and he’s going to do it in true vampiric Remmick nature. He’s luring you in.

Realizing you’d better play the part, you close your eyes and get into character. You dropped your items and starting making your way to him.

“There she is… there’s my girl. I’ve missed you,” shaking his head slightly, still rocking in the chair. Your feet clicked against the concrete floor almost antagonizingly slow, your eyes never left his, and you felt your body heat up. Crossing onto the wood, the change of energy set the mood. There he was, still covered in that fake blood from earlier, dripping right over his face and down his neck. The lights of the set were all either off or dim, save for this one hanging overhead. Just enough to hit him like a spotlight.

“I’m sorry, Remmy. I didn’t mean to make you wait on me. Are you upset at me, baby?,” you spoke to him. You could watch as those words made every hair on him stand up, the gulp traveled down his throat, and his hand gripped the armrest. His foot started to shake a little. You put on those big puppy dog eyes your character has when she looks at her lover. Slowly, you stepped closer and closer to him, walking behind the chair and putting your hands on his shoulders. You leaned down to his neck, right beside his ear and said, “I’m here now, baby. Did you need somethin’?”

“I just missed you, darlin’. Missed your touch, your voice… your face. Lord, that face of yours,” he admired as a hand reach beside him and held your cheek. The tension you two had all lead up to this moment. You took your hand and ran it up his arm and over his that was placed on your face, locking your fingers into his. Taking your other hand off of his shoulder, you walked in front of him, and used your free hand to touch his face in return.

“You’ve made a mess, Rem. But you look just as handsome as always.”

“Nah, darlin’, this ain’t no mess. A mess is what you’ve made me into, and I think you know just how to clean it up.”

Did you? Did he want you to touch him? Fuck him? Be with him? This is all new to you, this role playing thing. Not to mention it being with a man you’ve admired for so long, and just hoped that one day you’d be able to have him this way. This was your chance to finally have what you wished for.

Your eyes left his, scanning down his body in that outfit that made you an unstable wreck, and stopped at his pants. Smirking, you nodded, and stood between his now open legs. He took his free hand and grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to him. His body was practically calling out to you, you could feel how badly he wanted you, and he could feel you the same way. You bit your lip, and got on your knees.

“Oh, Rem. You got this worked up over me? I can’t just let you suffer, can I, my love?”

He gulped hard, biting his lip and hardening his lock on you.

“Nah, I don’t think that’d be very kind of you.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

Your hand left his face, running down his neck, chest, then stomach, and finally ending at his suspenders and pants. Your fingers got to work fast on his buckles and buttons, as you wanted him more than you could imagine. You wanted to taste him. You were going to. That was certain between the two of you.

Pulling off his pants and underwear in one movement, they fell to his ankles. He was hard for you. Thinking about how you walked on the set each day, head held so high and you were so passionate about your work. So passionate about the project.. about your characters. About him, he wished.

You kissed his tip, making sure to keep that eye contact. A guttural moan left him and you felt your heart flutter with pride, excitement, and admiration for the man in front of you. Your right hand came down to wrap around him, moving it up slowly, taking in what you’re about to do to him. Stroking him for a few more moments, you grew impatient. You wanted the taste of him, and you wanted the feeling of having the man you’ve pined over for months in you finally. Leaning back down, you opened your mouth and ran your tongue down the length of his dick. Stopping at the top after a few times of going up and down, you sucked, letting your tongue roam around him. You hummed against him, the sensation making him let another low, sexy moan out. Your head began to bob up and down, and your cheeks hollowed out as you went as far as you could. Your eyes closed, humming as you sucked on him. You felt his hand trace your jaw and entangle itself into your hair, grabbing a loose fist full of it and guiding you.

Deciding it was enough, he used his grip on your hair to pull you off him, and got a good look at your face. Your eyes filled with lust met his eyes, matching the same level of desire that you had.

“Stand up, I want you to try somethin’ out for me,” he said, breath shaky, as he ran his hands up your costume dress, and pulled your underwear down, “good, now we’re even.”

He put a hand on your waist, guiding you down to his thigh, using his grip to rock you back and forth over it. You grabbed his shoulder with one hand, and the top of the chair with other, now guiding yourself across with his assistance still being used.

“Oh, yeah. You like that, huh? Grindin’ on my thigh all desperate like. ‘Cause that’s what you are, desperate, right?” That drawl invoked a loud and, like he said, desperate moan from you, right into his ear. The hand on his shoulder now gripped his hair, holding him closer to you.

“I saw you watching me from the sidelines. You wanted me so bad, now you’ve got me. This is what you wanted, right? You’ve made me a damn mess, girl.”

His façade as Remmick was now gone, and it was his pure intentions coming out of him. That accent change damn near made you release then and there, but you were too lost in the feeling of his warm thigh against your pussy as you took out your sexual yearning on it. His other hand ran between your body and his, rubbing your clit, and he took his fingers to his mouth. He made sure to get your eyes to look into his as he savored your arousal. The fake blood mixed into his mouth a little as he finally got a taste of the beauty before him.

“You couldn’t be the only one that got a little taste, huh, darling?”

That was enough to get you off, and you came hard onto him. His moans from seeing you getting yourself off to a part of him that wasn’t even sexual filled your ears as you moaned into his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck as you came down from your high. You stayed like this for a few minutes until you both calmed down. You raised up, running a hand over his chest before placing it around his heart.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted you. Not even just like this, you know? You’re special, you’re beautiful. Absolutely perfect. D’you want to go out sometime? Properly get to hang out?”

You smiled, nodding along with the idea.

“I’d love to. I hoped for so damn long that you felt that way, too, you handsome devil.”

“Handsome vampire, get it right.”

You giggled, leaning in to give him a kiss.

“Oh, and for future reference, just know that was hot as fuck.”

“Duly noted, love.”

[chromehoney]

yearning!bestfriend!smoke x black!curvy!nasty!fem!reader

You and Smoke been thick as thieves since before y’all even had teeth. Since you were two loud little brown kids playin’ in the sprinkler in your grandma’s yard, barefoot on concrete and dripping in popsicle juice. He was the boy who always ran. Ran to get what you wanted. Ran to fix what you broke. Ran to grab the extra cookie you were too scared to ask for.

And even when you got older—full hips, lip gloss poppin’, that spoiled little whine always curled in your throat—you still didn’t have to finish a sentence before Smoke was already halfway to doin’ it.

“Smoke, can you—?”

“I got it.”

“Wait, you know what I want—”

“I already do.”

That was y’all’s rhythm.

He’d never said how bad he loved you. Never said that when you called him your best friend, it made his chest hurt. He never told you how many nights he stared at his phone, waiting for a text that said “Come over.”

You never told him either. You thought he knew. Thought maybe he didn’t feel the same. So you started dating other people. Just a little. Just to test the waters.

But you still showed up at every function on Smoke’s hip. Like today—his mama’s birthday cookout. You in that damn white dress. Tight up top, short in the back, every inch of you jiggling and glowing. Everybody noticed. But he noticed first.

He saw you before you even walked past the fence. Watched your thighs bounce with every step, your gold anklet glinting, your curls pulled up with just enough down to frame that smartass mouth he’d kill to kiss.

He didn’t speak first. He just stared. Chain glintin’. Blunt burning slow between his fingers.

You plopped down next to him at the table, legs crossed, plate in hand, talking loud with his cousins like you ain’t been skipping his calls.

And that’s when Aunt Vi turned to you, fork paused halfway to her mouth. “So baby girl, you still single? Or you got a lil boyfriend now?”

You blinked. Swallowed. Peeped Smoke from the corner of your eye. Then softly, like you ain’t really mean it: “…I do.” The clink of Smoke’s fork hitting his plate was the only sound for a moment.

He turned slowly, eyes glued to you. Not moving. Not blinking. That quiet, slow anger in his chest boiling over in silence. “You do?” he said low, voice tight.

You didn’t answer. You looked at Aunt Vi instead.“He tall?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

“Mhm.”

“Cute?”

“…Kinda.”

“Got a picture?” You pulled your phone out, too quick. Nervous giggle stuck in your throat. Smoke didn’t take his eyes off you. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded, watching you show the picture. Your screen faced Aunt Vi, but he saw it too.

And his jaw clenched hard enough to crack.

Marcus. From the block. A dude Smoke knew. A dude who tried to be like him but couldn’t hold a candle. He stood slow. Walked around the table. Quiet as ever. Then reached down and snatched your phone right out your hand.

“What the hell—” “Get up,” he said. You blinked. “Smoke, don’t start—” “I said get. The fuck. Up.”He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t curse loud. But his tone wrapped around your neck and dragged you up out that chair like gravity shifted. Your thighs trembled. You followed. You had to.

He yanked the back door open and took you through the house—ignoring every cousin, every curious glance—into the den. The door slammed behind you. And then? Silence. Thick and hot and tight. Smoke turned, chest rising slow. “You really fucking with Marcus?” he said. Voice low. Not yelling, but shaking. “Marcus?”

“He nice,” you whispered, but your voice cracked.Smoke stepped forward. Your back met the wall. He placed your phone on the dresser like he was lining it up for later. “You know how many times I wanted to tell you?” he said, hand finding your waist. “How many times I had to sit there and watch you run off with them clown-ass niggas? You do that shit on purpose?”

“I didn’t know you—” “Yes the fuck you did.” You didn’t answer. His mouth found your neck first. Hot, soft, trailing down like it was muscle memory. Your hands fisted in his shirt. His touch wasn’t rough—but it was hungry. Desperate. Like something that’d been waiting too long to be born.

“Still lettin’ me do everything for you,” he murmured against your skin, tongue flicking just beneath your ear. “Still callin’ me first. Still wearin’ shit like this around my damn family.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” you whimpered. His hands slid down your thighs, cupping your ass, pulling your hips against his. “You the only one I care about.” He kissed you. Slow and deep, lips pressed like a seal. Like a brand.

When he lifted your dress, you gasped. His fingers found the soaked cotton between your thighs and he smiled against your mouth. “This for him?” he growled. “Or me?”

“You,” you whimpered.

He dropped to his knees, pulled your panties down slow, kissed your thighs like he had all day. Then, without warning, he lifted your leg and buried his tongue in you—slow. Groaning into your folds, fingers digging into your hips.

You came on his mouth in minutes, shaking, gasping, whispering his name like a prayer.

“Say it right,” he whispered, standing, dropping his sweats. “You know what to call me.” “…Pa.”He moaned. Deep in his chest. Lined himself up and slid in—slow, deep, smooth, until his whole body trembled. Your mouth dropped open. You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes glassy.“You feel that?” he groaned. “That’s mine.”

He moved slow but heavy, rolling his hips deep inside you like he was making a promise. His lips on your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. His hand on your jaw. “I been waiting so long for this, bunny,” he whispered. “Ain’t nobody ever gonna touch you again.”

You were close again. Shaking. Crying now.

And then he reached for your phone. “Call him.”“What—” “Call that little nigga now.” With shaking fingers, you dialed. Voice trembling. He pressed the speaker on.

“Hello?” he spoke. Your breath caught. Smoke thrusted deep. You cried out, breath hitching. “I’m with my boyfriend.” Then Smoke grabbed the phone and ended it. And came inside you with a long, low groan that rattled your bones. His forehead rested on yours, breathing heavy, thumb wiping the tears from your cheek. “You’re mine now,” he whispered. “And I’m done sharing.”

A few weeks later…

You don’t even call him “Smoke” no more. It’s Pa this, Pa that. The whole damn block know what it is. He walkin’ with his arm around you like you made of gold and velvet. One hand resting on your hip, thumb rubbing that little space on your waist like it’s his personal territory. And it is.

You’re wearing one of the three diamond rings he bought you. Not engagement, not yet—but you keep tellin’ folks, “This one’s for my mouth, this one’s for my attitude, and this one’s ‘cause I’m spoiled.” He don’t argue. He just adds another.

And right between your collarbones? That chain. Thick, gold, glinting in the sun. His name on the pendant in soft cursive—“Elijah’s”—like a warning and a lullaby. He’s got one too. Yours. Tucked under his shirt but always there, lying flat on his chest, heartbeat pressin’ against the letters.

You’re headed to get ice cream, arguing playful in the heat. You want strawberry shortcake. He already bought it for you ten minutes ago and it’s in the car. He just like hearing you beg. And then, like a breeze cutting through the thick summer air, you hear two girls on the stoop whispering:

“—you ain’t hear? Marcus? That nigga gone. Shot dead couple weeks ago. Just now found the body in that alley behind Glenwood. Whole clip in him.”

You pause mid-step. Smoke doesn’t.

His grip on your waist tightens just slightly, just enough to make your stomach flip. He’s still walking, face neutral, but you catch the edge of his mouth. That little curl. That little smile.

He don’t say nothing. Just keeps moving. Pulls you closer, presses a kiss to your temple. You look at him. “Pa…” He raises a brow like he don’t know what you’re about to ask—but you don’t even finish the sentence.

You know better. You know exactly what that smile meant.

He ain’t ever gonna tell you what happened. But you can feel it in his kiss, in the way he holds your hand a little tighter now. The way he makes love to you like he got rid of every last threat.

That chain around your neck ain’t just jewelry. It’s a warning label. “Property of Elijah Moore.” And when the streets whisper about Marcus? Smoke don’t blink. He just licks ice cream off your lip and says: “Open your mouth, bunny. You know I don’t like repeating myself.”

last one yall… last one for the day.

@cursed-carmine for the dividers.

[kissbyoon]

“obsessive romantic lover!” ₍ y.jh ₎

───── ABOUT seeing the love of your life after one month, it was only fair for you to allow yourself to cry again

⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 1.1k ⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, est. rs, humour, self-indulged ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fiancé!jeonghan x f!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, crying (that's jst me *SIGH* ), petnames (lmk if more!!)

A/N: this is so self indulged because I def did not keep my promise of 'im not gonna cry when there's another update' (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠) | @hanniescookie 🤍

The camera in your hands clicked, capturing yet another beautiful sight of your fiancé, Jeonghan.

You lean away, admiring the picture before lifting your gaze to look at him with a satisfied smile. Jeonghan’s head turned to your direction in the slightest way, the desperation to leave this ceremony and run to you noticable in his expression—scrunched nose, droopy eyes and a tired, but disciplined posture.

A soft laugh escaped your lips. As his eyes turned completely to catch a glimpse of you, you took the opportunity to tease him even more.

With a fond, yet teasing smile, you wink flirtatiously. His eyes go wide ever so slightly before he snaps his head to look ahead, his neck and ear turning red as he bites his lower lip to prevent a smile.

You laugh heartily, lifting your camera to capture the lovely sight.

All of a sudden, he is too focused on the senior officer’s speech with his posture straightened. He refused to look at you after that again.

After an hour or two, the ceremony had finally come to an end as everyone began to leave the ground and enter their cabins. Some of them were leaving to meet their visitors. You were requested to wait for Jeonghan on the other side of the ground, and you gladly listened because it was starting to become crowded.

While waiting, you took out your camera and admired each and every photo you have taken of him with a giddy smile.

Damn, you might’ve been a photographer in your past life.

“Oh wow, your fiancé is one of a kind.”

You flinched at the sudden voice behind you, ready to fight the menace who decided it would be a good idea to leave you startled. Only to realise that it was your menace—purposely making his voice deeper to sound like a middle aged man.

Closing your eyes tightly and pressing your lips in a thin line, you take a deep breath. Jeonghan giggled, craning his neck to look at your face, a tender smile on his lips.

You wanted to glare at him with the intention to tease, but the moment your eyes caught his, you paused.

As if your mind had stopped forming your next words, as if your eyes had stolen a glimpse of a rare star—your whole body froze.

For the first time after an entire month, the love of your life was before your eyes, just one touch away. It felt like a dream—to be able to stare and drown in his deep brown eyes again, to be able to have him so close to you again.

Before you could realise, your vision gradually blurred and tears began to roll down your cheeks uncontrollably. You covered your mouth, turning away from him, overwhelmed by your emotions.

“Hey, hey,” His tone shifted to his usual soft, full of affection, and he reached out urgently to turn you to face him. Without a second thought, his arms wrapped around your body in a gentle but protective manner, pulling you against his chest.

“Love, angel, you promised you wouldn't cry,” he whispered, cradling your head with one hand and patting your lower waist with another. Your cries weren't loud, but soft and tinted with yearning and love.

Yes, you did promise him that you wouldn't shed a single tear when you saw him. Yes, you did break it just a few hours ago as you arrived to watch his graduation ceremony. And a million times yes, your love for him runs so deep, so completely, that your heart finds its truest strength not in stoicism, but in vulnerability before him, allowing you to also embrace all of him—his perfections and imperfections.

“You’re gonna make me weep too now,” he playfully teased, hoping to earn a chuckle from you (which he did).

After a few good minutes of embracing his warmth, you gained control over your emotions and leaned back.

“I broke my promise,” you sniff, wiping your tears away. You kept your gaze on the ground, unable to find the courage to look at him again.

“It’s okay. Just look at me, love,” he urged softly, taking a step forward as one of his hands held yours and the other cupped your cheek. “You know I hate to be the reason for your tears.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes.

“It’s not that,” you mumbled, trying to cover yourself up from the embarrassment.

“I know it's because this is the first time in a while that you've seen my handsome face again.” Jeonghan grinned at the way your lips twitched to smile.

“Nevermind, I wasted my tears for you.” You pretend to sulk, turning away. He is quick to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, leaving a soft kiss on your neck. You felt goosebumps under his gentle touch, and closed your eyes tightly to stop the tears from flowing again.

“I missed you.” He confessed, a deep sigh leaving his lips as if he had been waiting forever to say that.

“Y’know, I saw you in my dreams everyday and it kinda freaked me out because I thought something was wrong with me,” he added with a smile, earning a giggle from you. “But then I realised it was just because I missed you so much.”

“You sound like an obsessive ex.” You chuckled. But deep down, you absolutely adored how he worded his feelings. You were special to him. Really, really special.

“You mean an obsessive fiancé,” he craned his neck and pecked your cheek.

“I think I'm more obsessive,” you sighed, fidgeting with the engagement ring on his ring finger.

“Hm? That can't be—”

“I hug jjongtoram thinking it's you. I sprayed your cologne on it a little and that kinda freaked me out because I felt like an obsessive stalker,” you giggled, mimicking his earlier words. “But then I realised it's just my heart that misses you so much.”

You didn't have to turn around to know that Jeonghan was smiling, almost shyly.

“That's kinda scary, baby, but it's okay since we're about to get married.” He joked to cover up the way he was blushing by your words, tightening his grip around you.

“Hey! That's romantic.” You defended.

Jeonghan’s gaze dropped to the camera in your hands, and he remembered that you had taken pictures earlier. (99.9% are all his)

“Okay my romantic lover, may you show me the pictures you took earlier please?” He asked playfully, placing both of his hands on top of yours.

“That's not a cool way to call your future wife,” you argued, pouting. He tilted his head, confused.

“Why not? Isn't it cute?”

“I prefer ‘my obsessive romantic lover' more.” You declare proudly, causing Jeonghan to break into laughter.

Obviously, it became your default pet name whenever you’d do something that made him blush. He has to find a way out of getting teased for being so down bad, right?

© KISSBYOON 2025. all rights reserved.

[rafayelxsylusho]

This is just nasty smut

TW: Smut lol

Sylusxreaderxcaleb

As you kneel down, your fingers tremble slightly as they reach for Caleb's belt. His breathing grows more ragged, more intense, with each inch of your bare skin revealed. Those flushed cheeks and wide eyes make your heart race.

Behind him, Sylus sits with a smug smirk. His long fingers wrapped around Caleb's biceps, squeezing just hard enough to keep the other man in place. Sylus's gaze locks with yours, a silent challenge and promise glinting in his red eyes.

Sylus leans in, his lips brushing the shell of Caleb's ear as he murmurs, "Go on, sweetie. Don't be shy now." Those words, dripping with arrogance and lust, hang heavy in the charged air between the three of you.

Your fingers make quick work of Caleb's belt, the metal clasp giving way with a sharp click. His zipper follows suit, the sound of the teeth parting echoing loud in the charged silence. With a yank, you tug his pants and underwear down, exposing the thick, hard length of him. Caleb's cock springs free, bobbing heavily before your face. A bead of moisture glistens at the tip, betraying his intense desire.

"Fuck," Sylus breathes out, his gaze dropping to the thick cock now inches from your face. "Look how hard he is, kitten. All for you." His voice is a low, approving rumble. One hand slides up to grip the back of Caleb's neck possessively. "Why don't you give him a little taste..."

Caleb's head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as Sylus marks him, pressing open mouthed kisses along the column of his throat. The wet heat of his mouth leaves glistening trails on the flushed skin.

"Have you ever imagined this, though?" Sylus murmurs, his teeth biting the shell of Caleb's ear. "Have you ever dreamed of her pretty little mouth wrapped around your cock?"

Caleb swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His voice is strained when he answers, "Fuck yes... every goddamn night. Since I was a fucking teenager."

Sylus's fingers force Caleb's head down to look directly at you. "I bet you have," Sylus purrs, watching him intently as he holds him in place. As Sylus speaks, you part your lips and take Caleb's thick length into your mouth. You can feel the weight of him on your tongue, the textured skin and pulsing heat. Your lips stretch around his girth as you take him deeper.

"Don't you think she looks beautiful like that? With a big cock stuffing her mouth?"

Caleb's moan echoes through the room and his hips twitch forward slightly, seeking more of your mouth's tight, wet heat. But Sylus holds him firm, not allowing him to thrust.

"Fuck, look at you," Caleb grunts out, his voice strained with arousal. His eyes are dark and heavy lidded as he stares down at the sight of your mouth stuffed full of his cock.

"Is it everything you imagined it would be, Caleb?" Sylus asks, voice dripping with arrogance and lust. "Is her mouth as hot and tight around your dick as you've dreamed about these past years?"

"Fuck yes," he says through clenched teeth, "It's... shit... it's even better." His hips twitch, straining against Sylus's iron grip, yearning to drive his cock deeper.

Sylus leans in close and whispers, "Imagine how tight and wet her little cunt is. Picture how she squeezes and clenches around a hard cock, milking it for all it's worth."

"Bet you've dreamed about burying yourself balls deep in her, haven't you? Fucking her hard and fast until she's screaming your name?" Sylus's tongue flicks out, licking the curve of Caleb's ear teasingly.

Caleb shudders and lets out a strangled groan, his cock throbbing and leaking pre cum against your tongue. The musky taste of his arousal floods your mouth.

Sylus's large hand reaches down, fingers threading through your hair and gripping the back of your head. His grip is firm, almost painfully tight, as he holds you in place. You can feel the heat radiating off his palm, seeping into your scalp. "That's it, kitten," Sylus coaxes, "She's not taking all of it yet, so you better be ready, Caleb"

With that command, Sylus pushes the back of your head, forcing you deeper onto Caleb's throbbing cock. Your lips stretch wider, jaw aching as you take him. The thick head of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

Caleb throws his head back with a moan "Ohhhh fuck!" he cries out, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His fingers clench into fists at his sides, fighting the urge to grab your head and fuck your face.

The vulgar, wet sounds fill the room as Sylus holds you in place, forcing you to take Caleb even deeper. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the strain, but it only heightens your arousal.

You feel Caleb's cock pulse and throb against your tongue, growing even harder and larger as his climax approaches. The thick shaft twitches and jerks, swelling with his impending release.

Looking up at Sylus with watery eyes, you give a subtle nod, signaling your readiness and desire to taste his essence.

Drool escapes the corner of Caleb's lips, dripping down his chin as you deepthroat his pulsing cock. Leaning in, Sylus extends his tongue and laps at the strand of saliva hanging from Caleb's chin, moaning at the taste.

"Mmm, fuck," Sylus whispers "Cum for her, give her every last fucking drop." His command is punctuated by a sharp nip to Caleb's lower lip, just hard enough to leave a mark.

Caleb lets out a choked cry, his body going rigid as Sylus's words send him over the edge. His cock pulses and jerks, before erupting like a fountain deep in your throat. You feel the first thick, creamy spurt of his release splash against the back of your throat, the taste of him exploding across your tongue.

Sylus holds your head firmly in place as Caleb's cock throbs and pulses, pumping spurt after spurt of his hot, sticky seed directly down your throat. You feel it coating your tongue, filling your mouth with the bitter, salty taste of his climax.

"Fuck, just like that," Sylus growls, watching Caleb's face contort in pleasure as he rides out his high.

You slip your lips off of Caleb's softening cock, gasping for air as you catch your breath. A strand of his essence connects your mouth to his dick for a moment before breaking, dripping down onto your chin. You lap at your lips, savoring the musky taste.

Caleb's hand reaches out, his thumb swiping across your lower lip and scooping up a stray drop of cum that clung there. He holds the glistening digit in front of your mouth for a moment, his dark eyes boring into yours with a hunger that makes your core clench.

"Looks like you missed a spot princess," Caleb says, voice still rough from his intense climax. Before you can respond, he pushes his thumb past your lips, pressing it against your tongue.

"Clean it up," he orders, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. You part your lips and take his thumb into your mouth, suckling on it gently as your tongue swirls around the digit, lapping up the last traces of his essence. You can taste the salty, slightly bitter flavor of his cum mixed with the unique taste of his skin. 

Suddenly you feel Sylus grip your arms tightly and suddenly pull you downwards, laying you both back on the bed and in one fluid motion, he drags you up his muscular torso until you find yourself straddling his face, your dripping core right above his mouth.

"Now, let me get this pretty pussy ready for you, Caleb," his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive folds. "Sit back and enjoy the show."

He doesn't give him any time to answer before he buries his face between your thighs, his tongue parts your lower lips and delves deep, stroking along your slit and gathering your flowing juices. He moans against your flesh, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure shooting through you.

Lost in the exquisite pleasure of Sylus's skilled mouth devouring your pussy, you let out a sharp gasp as he suckles your sensitive clit between his lips. Your back arches, pressing your dripping sex more firmly against his face as jolts of electric bliss course through your veins.

Just as you start to lose yourself in the throes of ecstasy, you feel a presence before you. Blinking your eyes open, you find Caleb kneeling in front of you on the bed, his face mere inches from yours. His dark gaze is intense and filled with lust, taking in the erotic sight of Sylus feasting on your pussy like a starving man.

You feel his eyes darken with desire, fixating on the way your breasts jiggle with each thrust of Sylus's tongue against your cunt. The hungry look in his eyes makes your nipples stiffen into hard peaks, just begging for attention.

Almost as if reading your mind, you feel the heat of Caleb's mouth engulf your nipple a split second later. His lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling hard as his tongue swirls and flicks teasingly. The sensations of Sylus's mouth on your pussy and Caleb's lips on your breast make your body tremble and quake.

You reach out, tangling your fingers in Caleb's hair as you press your chest further into his eager mouth. Your hips grind down against Sylus's face, smearing your arousal across his cheeks and chin. The filthy, wet sounds of him lapping at your sex fill the room, mingling with the slurps and suckles of Caleb's at your breast.

Sylus plunges two long, thick fingers deep into your soaked core and you let out a sharp cry, your hips buck and grind harder against his face as he pumps his digits in and out of you. The delicious stretch of his fingers filling you, reaching depths that make your toes curl, drives you wild with lust.

His fingers fucking your pussy combined with his tongue lashing your clit push you closer to the edge embarrassingly fast. Your inner walls clench and flutter around his fingers drawing them in deeper, greedy for more.

Caleb bites down hard on your stiff nipple, sending a shock of pained pleasure surging through you. The sharp sting blends with the overwhelming bliss radiating from between your thighs, the combination making you throw your head back with a scream.

*"AHHHH! Oh god, yes! Don't stop!" you wail, voice breaking from the intensity of your impending climax. The erotic pain only heightens your pleasure, pushing you hurtling towards your peak.

Sylus curls his fingers inside you, rubbing mercilessly against that spongey spot that makes your vision go white. The added stimulation is too much, and with a scream of pure ecstasy, you come. Your pussy clamps down HARD on Sylus's fingers, rippling and gushing around them.

Caleb's mouth suckles and laps at the abused nipple, soothing the sting of his bite. His other hand comes up to knead at your neglected breast, rolling and pinching the nipple between his fingers. Sylus's fingers pumping in and out of your spasming cunt and Caleb's mouth and hands on your tits drag out your climax, making it feel like it lasts an eternity.

With a final gasp, you collapse against Caleb's firm chest, your body going boneless in the aftermath of your mind blowing orgasm. Your skin is slick with sweat and flushed a deep, rosy hue as you tremble in his arms.

Caleb's eyes blaze with worship and adoration as he stares at your pleasure drunk expression. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. "You're so fucking beautiful." Then he is kissing you, his lips moving against yours with a passion that steals your breath away. It's a kiss unlike any other, pouring all of his desire, his longing, his reverence for you into the single, perfect union of your mouths.

Sylus's fingers slip from your sensitive, fluttering sex, and you feel his lips press a final kiss to your clit before he releases you. He gives your ass a sharp smack, urging you to lift your hips as he settles back on the bed, watching with a smirk as Caleb worships your mouth with his own.

The heated kiss is abruptly broken as Sylus's deep, amused voice cuts through the haze of the lust clouding your minds. You and Caleb both start slightly, snapping back to the present moment. Caleb's hands linger on your body for a moment longer before he reluctantly pulls away, allowing you to sit up slightly.

Sylus leans back against the headboard, a grin playing across his face as he takes in the debauched sight of you both, your hair mussed, lips swollen, and skin flushed and slick with sweat. He looks like the cat that got the cream.

"Are you ready for the best part, Colonel?" Sylus asks "Because I know our girl here is more than ready for the main event."

His gaze drags down your body, lingering on the juncture between your thighs. You can feel the heat of his stare, the intensity of his desire.

At Sylus's nod of approval and permission, a thrill of anticipation rushes through you. You glance down at Caleb, taking in his position kneeling before you on the bed, his dark eyes watching your every move. Biting your lower lip, you shift your hips and straddle his thighs, feeling the thick, hard length of his cock press against your sensitive core.

Sylus moves with the predatory grace of a jungle cat, his muscular body fluid and precise as he shifts to kneel behind you on the bed. His large hands come to rest on your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulls you back against his hard chest. You feel the rasp of his stubble against your shoulder as he leans in, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin there.

As his lips linger on your flesh, you feel one of Sylus's hands leave your hip, his fingers wrapping around the thick length of Caleb's cock. He lines the swollen head up with your entrance, the heat of it searing your folds even before he starts to press forward.

"Ready, kitten?" Sylus murmurs against your ear, his hot breath sends shivers racing down your spine as he waits for your confirmation, the thick crown of Caleb's cock starting to stretch your entrance.

You meet Caleb's intense gaze, seeing your own anticipation and desire reflected back at you in his dark eyes. Taking a deep, shaky breath to steel yourself, you give him a nod and a breathless "I'm ready."

As the words leave your lips, you start to sink down Caleb's thick cock, feeling the broad head stretch and fill your tight cunt inch by inch. Your slick walls part for him, fluttering and clenching around his invading length as you take him deeper.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Caleb grits out through clenched teeth, his hands tightening on your ass as he fights the urge to surge up and bury himself to the hilt. His abdomen flexes beneath you, the muscles rippling as he holds himself back, allowing you to set the pace.

Sylus's fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he guides you down, helping you sink further onto Caleb's cock. The stretch is intense, bordering on painful as he fills and expands you, but the pleasure is exquisite. You can feel every throbbing vein and ridge of his shaft dragging along your sensitive walls.

" Breathe, kitten. Nice and easy," Sylus murmurs, his lips brushing your ear "You don't have all of it in yet"

With each downward roll of your hips, you feel Caleb's length sliding deeper, stretching you wider, until finally, you bottom out. The thick head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you gasp at the intense sensation.

Sylus's hands stroke up your sides, his touch almost tender as he caresses the curve of your waist and the swell of your breasts. He nuzzles into the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your arousal.

"There now, all the way inside this little cunt. Such a good girl, taking him so well."

Caleb's voice is low and strained as he speaks, his words coming out in a breathless whisper. The pleasure of your tight, pussy gripping his throbbing cock is clearly overwhelming him. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your ass, trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Fuck princess I need you to relax, you're gripping me so fucking tight. I won't last long if you keep squeezing me like this," Caleb grits out, his teeth clenched and jaw tight. The strain of his impending release is evident in the tension of his body, the way his muscles quiver beneath you.

Sylus throws his head back with a laugh at Caleb's words. The sound rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your back where you're pressed against him. He leans in, his stubble rasping against your ear as he speaks.

"That's just how she always is, Colonel," Sylus murmurs, a note of dark pride in his voice. "Our little kitten here has the tightest, sweetest cunt. It's enough to make a grown man weep, isn't it?"

Sylus starts to roll his hips, rocking you gently on Caleb's rigid shaft. The motion makes your body jiggle and bounce, your ass and tits swaying with the movement.

You begin to move, undulating your hips in a sensual rhythm, you feel Sylus's lips and teeth start to work along the column of your throat. He sucks and nips at your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of blooming marks in his wake, dark hickeys and teeth marks that will no doubt be visible for days. Each press of his mouth against your neck sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making your walls clench around Caleb's throbbing shaft.

Caleb's eyes squeeze shut, his brow furrowed in concentration as he fights to maintain control. The sensation of your walls massaging and squeezing his cock is almost too much to bear and a groan tears from his throat as he grinds his teeth.

Sylus seems to sense Caleb's struggle for control, and a grin spreads across his face. His hand leaves your hip, sliding down the length of Caleb's body until his fingers wrap around the thick base of the other man's cock. Sylus squeezes firmly, his grip like a vice as he holds Caleb in place, preventing him from thrusting up into you.

"Easy there," Sylus taunts, "Don't go spending your load too soon. Our girl here deserves a proper fucking, don't you think?"

With his other hand, Sylus reaches down to where you're joined, his fingers finding your sensitive clit. He starts to rub the swollen nub in tight circles, the stimulation making your back arch and your head fall back against his shoulder.

As he continues his relentless teasing, you feel his fingers gather the slick arousal dripping down your thighs, your body's reaction to the intense stimulation of being so thoroughly filled and he brings his coated fingers up to your back entrance, circling the tight, puckered hole with your own arousal.

"Besides, it's about to get even tighter" Sylus murmurs and he removes his hand from Caleb's cock.

Before you can react, you feel the rounded tip of Sylus's cock pressing against your back entrance. A gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, your body tensing instinctively. You've done this before, but never with another cock stretching and filling your pussy at the same time. The double penetration is a new experience, one that sends your heart racing.

Sylus pushes forward slowly, the thick head of his cock breaching your tight hole with a steady, relentless pressure. Your body resists at first, the muscles clenching and fluttering around the invading shaft as it struggles to accommodate the new intrusion. Sylus' hips drive forward inch by inch until the head pops inside, making you both gasp and moan at the intense sensation.

"Fuuuuck," Caleb groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he feels your walls clamping down even tighter around his cock. The added pressure and tightness is almost too much, the pleasure bordering on pain as your body squeezes him like a vice.

Your back arches, pressing your breasts out as a sharp cry escapes your lips. The dual penetration is overwhelming, the feeling of being so utterly stuffed and stretched in both holes sending your mind reeling. You can feel every ridge and vein of Sylus's thick cock as it sinks deeper into your ass, the heat of it searing you from the inside.

Sylus's hands grip your hips harder, his fingers digging into your flesh as he starts to thrust, driving into your ass with slow, deep strokes. Each push of his hips rocks yours, grinding your clit against Caleb's pelvis and drawing a low moan from your throat.

Caleb's eyes are closed again, his handsome face slack with pleasure as he loses himself in the feel of your dripping pussy squeezing his cock.

"Eyes on me, Colonel," you demand breathlessly, one hand coming up to cup his jaw. "I want to see your eyes when you fuck me. I want to watch you come undone."

At your command, Caleb's eyes snap open, his dark gaze colliding with yours. The intensity of his stare is electrifying, the hunger and desire burning in those depths making your heart stutter in your chest. He leans into your touch, turning his head to press an open mouthed kiss to your palm before nipping at the sensitive skin with sharp teeth.

Caleb and Sylus start to thrust in tandem, their hips rocking in perfect sync as they take you from both ends. Each surge of their hips drives them deeper into your body, stretching and filling you, claiming every inch of your most intimate places.

Overwhelmed by the intense, stimulation, you reach back to grasp Sylus's neck, your fingers sinking into the short hairs at his nape. You hold on for dear life as they pound into you, your nails digging into his skin with each thrust. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

Caleb's eyes remain locked on yours, his gaze burning into you with an intensity that steals your breath away. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises as he pulls you down onto his cock, matching Sylus's thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet, squelching noises of your joined bodies fill the room, mingling with your breathless moans and harsh pants.

Sylus leans in, his teeth finding your neck and biting down hard. One hand releases your hip to come up and wrap around your throat, his long fingers curling around your delicate neck.His other hand slides around to your front, finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in quick circles, pushing you closer to the edge with each pass of his fingers.

Caleb's face contorts in a grimace of pleasure, his teeth bared and eyes squeezed shut."Fuck, Sylus," Caleb grits out "You're making her clench so fucking hard. I'm about to lose it if you keep that up."

Sylus just laughs and doesn't let up his relentless pace, driving into your ass with deep strokes that make your tits bounce and jiggle with each thrust. His fingers continue their merciless assault on your clit..

"That's the idea," Sylus taunts, his hot breath fanning across your neck and shoulder. "I want to feel her little ass milking my cock for all it's worth. And if it makes our girl here squeeze your dick that hard, well... I'd say that's a fucking bonus."

"Fuck this" Caleb groans as he leans in to suck on one of your nipples, he lets out moan against your breast, the vibrations of his mouth and a sharp sting of his teeth sinking into your tender nipple sen a bolt of electricity straight to your core. At the same time, he thrusts up hard, driving his cock to the hilt inside your dripping pussy, the head kissing your cervix and making you cry out at the intensity.

That sensation, combined with Sylus's fingers rubbing your clit and his cock pounding into your ass, pushes you over the edge. Your back arches sharply, pressing your breast more firmly against Caleb's mouth as your climax crashes through you wave after wave.

"AHHHHH! FUCK!" you scream, your voice echoing off the walls as your pussy clamps down hard on Caleb's cock, your ass doing the same around Sylus's. Your body convulses and shakes, juices gushing out around where you're joined, as the most mind blowing orgasm of your life tears through you.

Caleb moans loudly around your nipple, the sound muffled but no less intense as he feels your walls rippling and squeezing his shaft With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself balls deep inside you and lets out a choked shout, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he starts to come hard.

Sylus follows close behind, your name tearing from his throat like a battle cry as he slams into your ass one last time. He grinds his hips against your ass, pushing in as deep as physically possible as he starts to come, flooding you with his hot, sticky seed.

In the aftermath, you slump back against Sylus's chest, your body going limp and pliant as you struggle to catch your breath. Caleb's arms come around you, holding you close as his own chest heaves, his skin slick and damp with exertion. The three of you remain joined, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure, your hearts beating in tandem as one.

[rafeacs]

Best Friend Rafe x Reader Petty Jealousy

Warnings: None (yet), fluff, soft rafe, jealousy, yearning, rafe finally makes a move

Rafe was growing restless in your absence. You had been gone for two weeks while you and your parents were on vacation in Italy. He and you did FaceTimed often. Rafe did not mind waking up in the middle of the night just to talk to you for a few minutes, but that wasn’t enough. He was used to you being just minutes away from him. You did message him frequently, updating him with pictures, but you were too busy to actually hold a prolonged conversation with him. He knew he was not entitled to feel as such; you were just best friends, but still, he could not help but grow weary in your absence. 

When the day finally came for your return, he had the urge to pick you up at the airport himself, but that action seemed a tad too desperate. So he waited until you finally called him to hang out. Rafe was playing a round of golf in the club with Kelce and Topper when he turned his direction towards the club’s bar and saw your distinct outline that he had thoroughly memorized. He felt a true smile creep to his lips, but it soon faded as he realized that you had your arms linked with a random guy. Rafe squinted his eyes to see who you were with, but due to the distance, he could not make out his face. 

Rafe’s mood was quick to dampen, his hold on his putter growing tighter, and no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on his shot, he was distracted by who the guy you were with was. “Woah, chill,” Topper laughed as Rafe grunted and smashed his putter upon the once untainted grass, jealousy quick to consume him. He turned towards the club restaurant once more and saw you seated on the bar with the stranger still right next to you. “I’m leaving,” Rafe gritted and threw his golf club to the ground and took the golf cart despite the protest of his friends he left stranded in the middle of the field. 

Rafe’s frame was rigged when he approached you, body consumed with anger as he watched you tilt your head back as you laughed with the random dude he was so close to beating up. “Rafe!” You exclaimed as you saw him from your peripheral vision. You were quick to stand and run to him, engulfing him with a hug. Through his anger, Rafe still wrapped his big arms around your frame and lifted you up, his lips twitching as he heard you giggle. “Missed me that much?” He lightly chuckled, completely forgetting about the presence you were with earlier. “A bit,” you shrugged as you parted from him. 

You glanced behind and pulled Rafe toward where you once sat. “Rafe, meet Lorenzo,” you smiled as you introduced the two of them. Rafe gritted his jaw as Lorenzo stood and led out his hand for Rafe to shake. Rafe begrudgingly shook his hand so as not to appear brazen in front of you, but he made sure to painfully tighten his hold, smirking as he watched Lorenzo grimace. 

“Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you these past few weeks,” Lorenzo smiled. Rafe was surprised that he did not have an Italian accent, as he had suspected; Lorenzo spoke with a British accent, and Rafe immediately felt threatened as he remembered how you would always gush about how much you loved British accents. “Really? I heard nothing about you. Who are you?” Rafe said abruptly, making your eyes widen. “Lorenzo’s a son of a close family friend— I mentioned him before; you must just forgot,” You smiled but widened your eyes at Rafe, urging him to be kinder. 

Lorenzo felt the tensions rise, and he cleared his throat, “I erm… I better go. Jetlag’s getting the best of me. See you back at the house?” He asked but did not really give you room to respond as he quickly kissed both your cheeks and left. Rafe stared widely at his action and was ready to pounce on him.“What was that?” You exclaimed at Rafe as soon as Lorenzo left. “He’s British! You can’t be so blatantly rude; they greatly frown upon that!” You explained, lightly hitting Rafe on his muscled chest as you took a seat on the stool once more. Rafe shrugged, “What? I just said I don’t know him because you never mentioned him.” He gritted and ordered drinks for the both of you. 

“I did! Remember? He was my childhood best friend before we moved here?” Rafe’s hand clenched tightly around the cold glass. Childhood best friend? He was your best friend! “How long is he staying here?” He asked through gritted teeth. “Only a few days, so be nice! I haven’t seen him in about eleven years, so please make him feel welcome.” You pleaded and placed your hand on his tense arm. Rafe shook his head, but you smiled up at him, poking his side and urging him to agree. After a few more pokes on his waist, the spot you knew he was ticklish in, he finally cracked a smile and sighed. “Fine,” He sighed, and you squealed and stood, kissing his cheek and wrapping your arms around him. 

Rafe’s tense frame relaxed as he felt you around him. “Now come on, I wanna play tennis, and Sarah’s busy,” you pulled at him to stand. Rafe downed his drink and followed you to the tennis court, trying not to let his gaze stray too long downwards to your plump behind, clad in a rather short and tight tennis skirt. 

After countless rounds of tennis, with you beating Rafe every single time, the sun was beginning to set, and you only remembered that you had a dinner to attend to. “What’s the rush? Scared I’ll beat you?” Rafe laughed as you pulled him away from the court so he could bring you home. 

“Are you going to Top’s party later?” You asked, and Rafe shrugged, “Depends,” he said. “Why? You’re going? You hate house parties,” Rafe suddenly frowned as he turned a corner. “I do, but I want to bring Lorenzo to one— he said he’s rather curious about American parties,” You shrugged as Rafe pulled into your driveway. “So you’re not going?” You confirmed, and Rafe immediately shook his head. “No, I'm going if you’re going. I’ll pick you up at nine,” He said, and you smiled quickly, kissing his cheek in gratitude before bidding him goodbye for you to attend your family’s dinner. Rafe felt his heart stagger at the feeling of your lips against his skin. The jealousy he felt faded, and his skin tingled whilst a boyish smile that only you could conjure appeared on his lips. 

Rafe rolled into your driveway at exactly nine, stepped out of his truck, and leaned on the passenger door as he waited for you. He felt a small smile twitch on his lips as you stepped out your front door, but it quickly disappeared as he saw you walk out hand in hand with Lorenzo. “Nice to see you again, Rafe,” Lorenzo smiled politely. Rafe bit his tongue and resisted rolling his eyes. “Yeah, nice of you to join us,” He grumbled and opened the passenger seat for you. 

He drove to Topper’s house, the car filled with conversation between you and Lorenzo, him growing reserved and annoyed that your attention was not solely on him. “I don’t really understand why you want to go to a house party,” You mused as Rafe helped you out from the passenger seat. Lorenzo shrugged, “I always see it in the movies and just wanted to experience one first hand,” Rafe rolled his eyes as he placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you through the crowded entrance to Topper’s house. 

“Let’s go get some drinks!” You exclaimed and took hold of Lorenzo’s arm and pulled him towards the drinks table, leaving Rafe to mingle with the other partygoers, but he had no wish to mingle; he wanted to be with you!

Rafe secured a spot for the two of you on the couch, waiting for your return as Kelce chatted up with him. “Hey, who’s that guy she’s with? She finally got a boyfriend?” He snickered, knowing Rafe would react badly to his insinuation. “No.” He almost growled. Kelce smirked and shook his head in amusement, “I told you, dude, It’s been fucking years— just make a move, you pussy!” He laughed and quickly exited, fearing Rafe would physically retaliate. 

“I got you a beer!” You screamed as you pushed your way through the crowd and spotted Rafe’s hulking body seated on the couch. His tense frame momentarily relaxed as he saw you. You handed Rafe the bottle and turned to Lorenzo, “You can take that seat; I could just stand,” You offered, wanting your guest to be comfortable. Rafe clenched his jaw as you made your way to sit on the armrest of the chair, but you yelped as he pulled you onto his lap. Rafe smirked as neither you nor Lorenzo expected his actions. It was not that it was uncommon; you often sat on Rafe’s lap when there were no more seats; why should this instance be different?

For the better part of the night, you and Lorenzo were the only ones chatting, and Rafe was just there, acting like your chair and having his arms wrapped around your frame. “I’ll get another drink,” Lorenzo excused, and you nodded, taking his place on the couch and offering relief for Rafe’s legs, for you had been sitting on his lap for the past hour. “Oh shoot, I need a drink too.” You suddenly said as you looked down at your cup. “I’ll just g—“ Rafe immediately stood and shook his head, not wanting you to spend more time with Lorenzo; it was petty, yes, but he had reserved to be petty and jealous. “I’ll get it,” He gritted, and you frowned as you only now realize that Rafe was rather in a sour mood. 

“Okay,” You say softly, trying to figure out why your best friend was irritated. Rafe shuffled through the crowds, a severe frown on his brow as his jealousy was eating him inside out. Each moment he watched, you and Lorenzo planted further fear in him. Each conversation you had rolled off effortlessly; the history between you was deep, and you two even had inside jokes. He could just not fathom the thought that another person— another guy knew everything about you, possibly even more. He just could not accept the fact that he had to share you. 

Rafe clenched his jaw as he saw your preferred drink was all gone. He pushed through the crowd and went to the pantry to retrieve another bottle, but he was startled as he opened the door and saw a couple making out. He was stunned to see Lorenzo locking lips with another guy, “Do you mind?” The random guy Lorenzo was with snapped, and Rafe could only blink and shut the door, unable to process the scene before him. Rafe stumbled to where he left you, his irritated face now filled with shock. 

“Are you okay?” You asked in concern and assisted Rafe to sit beside you. “I… I uh—“ He mumbled, and you knitted your brows with concern. “I saw Lorenzo making out with a… dude,” He said slowly and expected to see the surprise on your face, but you only looked confused. “Yeah?” You said, unsure. “Aren’t you surprised?” He questioned. “I’d be more surprised if he was making out with a girl.” You shrugged. You feel your lips twitch into a smile as Rafe blinks, and his face contorts into realization. “Oh,” You laughed as the word left his lips. “You’re so cute!” You laughed at his expression. 

Rafe shook his head as you pinched his cheek, hoping none saw your actions because it would surely diminish his reputation of being cold and harsh, but at the same time, he didn’t truly care just as long as your attention and affections were focused on him.

“You don’t have to be like this, you know.” You teased as Rafe settled further into the couch. “Like what?” He frowned, “Like you know— jelly. You don’t have to be jealous of Lorenzo; he’s my best friend, but you are my bestest friend.” You smiled, hoping that Rafe would mirror it, but your smile faltered as he frowned and crossed his arms. 

Rafe looked at you, the room growing quiet with each second he observed your face and mulled over your words. “I don’t wanna be your best friend,” He suddenly said, and you feel your heart fall out of your chest. You feel goosebumps rise to your skin as you try to process his words. “Oh?” Was all you could word out, feeling your chest bubble with emotion. Rafe shook his head and turned to face you.

“No, I— I don’t want to be just your best friend.” He explained further. “What a—“ The words died on your tongue as you felt lips against yours and a strong hand cupping your cheek. Rafe took the risk that he had wanted to take since the day he met you. He finally kissed you as he had wanted to for so long. 

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [10] - Damage Control

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Self-doubt can appear out of nowhere.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.8k

Series Masterlist

Contrary to popular belief, falling in love with one’s boss made life harder, not easier.

You kept seeing him at work, you lost your focus whenever you talked to him –or he walked by you, for that matter— and he was the main character of your dreams every night.

“Birdie, are you awake?”

Like now.

The daze of sleep disappeared, pulling you out of the pleasant dream and you let out a whine, burying your face into the pillow.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Caleb opened the door and stepped in, then sat by the edge of the bed. “Morning sunshine.”

You rolled onto your back, rubbing at your eyes before you dropped them. “I was dreaming about Bucky.”

“Like a sexy dream?”

You hummed. “It was basically a black and white movie.”

“Like a sexy black and white movie?”

“We were in a house,” you muttered. “It had a garden outside, I was wearing this vintage dress, and baking a pie—”

“So, not a sexy dream.”

“I don’t even know how to bake a pie.” You yawned, looking up at the ceiling with a frown. “And then he walked into the kitchen and kissed me, and asked where the kids were—actually, you know what? Now that I think about it; I feel like it was an episode of I Love Lucy.”

“Your subconscious is really not original.”

“I think I was wearing pearls or something,” you mused, making Caleb tilt his head.

“So you mixed a bunch of vintage movies together and decided that was the way to go?”

“To repeat, I don’t know how to bake a pie,” you insisted. “Obviously I didn’t dec—”

“Did you tell her yet?” Kelsey leaned on the doorframe with a cup of coffee in her hand and you looked between her and Caleb.

“Tell me what?”

Caleb paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, first of all,” he said. “As Bucky’s communications director, I assure you that we can easily spin this.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, your breathing getting faster.

“Spin what?”

“In fact, I’m confident that if we focus on offense, we won’t even have to go that hard into defense—”

“Caleb,” you cut him off. “Spin what?”

He heaved a sigh, then pulled out his phone, touched the screen and turned it to you.

Shit.

Oh shit.

It was a blurry picture of you and Bucky in that pub last night, in one of those gossip accounts.

“Okay, before you panic,” Caleb said while you stared at the phone with wide eyes, trying to find your breath. “The fact that he has a girlfriend plays right into our hand, I’ve already planned the—nope, don’t check the comments.” He snatched the phone out of your hand. “Birdie, listen to me.”

“…I’ll have to resign.”

“Literally what the fuck did I just say about panicking?” Caleb asked while Kelsey stifled a laugh.

“Caleb already came up with a plan and sent it everywhere. We’re working on it.”

 You blinked back the tears, wiping at your eyes. “Um…”

“And for the first time, you should be glad that Bucky is dating Hazel,” Caleb said. “I just talked to Bucky, and apparently Hazel already called him because she saw this as well, and decided to visit Bucky sometime this week because she missed him, and so that they can join that gala thing together.”

“And she wants to make sure she still has him,” Kelsey muttered and took a sip of her coffee and you shook your head.

“No no, guys you don’t understand—”

“I think I understand it better than you,” Caleb said. “It was a good call to put that file on the table.”

You frowned, trying to focus. “What?”

Caleb zoomed in the picture. “There’s a file. On the table.”

“I took it to my parents’ place just in case I could work on—”

“Nope,” Caleb said. “You were trying to work on two bills at the same time, you were feeling very overwhelmed because a lot of people want you on their team and this is literally your first month in the Congress, so Bucky, being a very attentive boss, had to insist on taking you out so that you could work on it outside the office. As the file on the table suggests. There is no kiss, you don’t even hold hands, there is literally no foundation to those accusations other than some blurry picture of two people who have made waves in politics enough to intimidate people. And now drumroll please, for the offense.”

“Caleb—”

“This is a terrible smear campaign not only on Congressman Barnes, who by the way, is in a committed relationship with Miss Brooks, but also on Mr. Drexel—”

“My father would never agree to get dragged into this.”

“Tough shit, I am dragging him into this to save you,” Caleb said. “But also on Mr. Drexel, who has served this country as a consultant for decades working with multiple cabinets. It’s at best tabloid gossip, at worst a planned attack that is designed to use the first woman the tabloids saw around Mr. Barnes, who has maintained a professional relationship with him throughout his campaign and is deeply disturbed by these rumors. Too long didn’t read; the only crime these two have is that they’re both fucking hot, there’s a file on the table, bitch are you blind?”

 “He’s good, isn’t he?” Kelsey asked with a grin while Caleb took a bow like an actor on stage while you gawked at him.

“And people will believe that?”

“Not all of them obviously, but most will believe that as long as he’s dating Hazel, and there’s no picture of a kiss between you and him,” Caleb said. “The moment a picture like that comes out, we are gonna be fucked.”

You shook your head fervently. “There’s no picture like that because me and Bucky have never kissed.”

“When you do, please do it inside until I figure out how to work that angle.”

“Caleb,” you said warningly and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on, it will happen one day,” he said. “And hopefully by then, I’ll have found an idea how to use it in our benefit.”

“Can we focus on this?” you asked, motioning at the phone and Caleb shrugged.

“What’s there to focus? I already put out the statement, by now everyone in the Congress and their mothers read it.”

“You did all that in…?”

“An hour.”

“Jesus, you are good.” You took a look at your phone to check whether your father had called you or texted you, but he hadn’t.

“This is weird,” you muttered and ran a hand over your face. “Are you sure that will work?”

“Like I said. As long as there’s no picture of a kiss or anything to suggest that you two are fucking, we can spin it and even work it for our benefit.”

You took a shaky breath, then slipped a little in the bed, panic still pounding in your chest.

“I need to see Bucky—”

“You’re not going to see Bucky on a Sunday, the day after the rumor mill started,” Kelsey said. “No way. And if he’s smart, he will be on his way to New York right now to bring Hazel here on Monday so maybe it’s not the best idea to call him either. Or text him. Or do anything that might make Hazel think these rumors are true in case she’s with him.”

Jealousy twisted your gut and you bit inside your cheek, then nodded.

“Yeah,” you said. “That makes sense I guess.”

“Great.” Caleb slapped his knees and got up. “Now, get dressed.”

“Why?”

“We found a great brunch spot,” Kelsey said while Caleb reached out to grab Blinky from your nightstand. “We’re going there.”

“I don’t think it’s the best idea for me to—”

“You’re not going into hiding because there’s nothing to hide,” Caleb said and put Blinky in your lap. “Well, I doubt we’re telling his girlfriend he changed cities just to get you your childhood plushie back so we’re hiding that, but you know. Other than that.”

You pursed your lips, playing with Blinky’s tail.

“Come on Birdie,” Kelsey said. “I’m giving you half an hour, then we’re going to brunch. I’m fucking starving!”

She and Caleb left your room and closed the door behind them, and you let out a breath, then looked down at Blinky.

“Well,” you said. “We’re in so much trouble.”

                                         *

Your whole Sunday was spent with convincing multiple people that there was nothing going on between you and Bucky. Perhaps the strangest part was that instead of calling you, your father had your mother call you and ask whether there was any truth to these rumors, and you had to swear on your grandmother’s grave.

Knowing that you were on speaker.

Well, whatever it was, it had worked. You didn’t think your father was very happy about this but at least for now, it looked like his approach was to watch it and analyze before interfering.

You had answered Bucky’s “Are we okay?” text with a curt “Tomorrow” and much to your surprise, he hadn’t insisted and instead let you spend your Sunday without also worrying about that part of the story.

Although, you had a feeling that Sarah had something to do with it.

And now that it was Monday morning and you were walking past the security, anxiety was heavy enough to tremble your hands as you held up your ID pass, then entered the hallway.

Okay.

It was going to be fine.

“Hey, Hurricane!”

I want to go back home.

You looked over your shoulder and tried to smile at Lucas. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “I would ask you how your weekend was, but I have a pretty good idea.”

You ran a hand over your face. “Trust me, you have no idea.”

He gave you an apologetic look as you both turned the corner. “How are you holding up?”

Well, this was a good sign.

“Uh…” you trailed off. “Quite shaken, to be honest.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I’ve been alone with Gray more times than I could count, and no one blinked twice. It’s just because of Barnes and his whole thing, not you.”

You frowned, ready to jump to Bucky’s defense. “His whole thing?”

“Yeah, the whole tall dark handsome guy with tortured but mysterious past?”

“I’ll make sure to let him know you find him handsome.” You grinned. “And his past is not exactly mysterious, HYDRA files are out there.”

“You know what I mean.”

You snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I guess,” you muttered. “Obviously there’s nothing there but I’m not sure people—”

“Don’t worry about it, no one here bought that shit.”

I will buy Caleb a month’s worth of coffee and also name my firstborn after him.

You raised your brows and stopped walking to look at him better. “No one?”

“No one with a brain,” he corrected himself, making you smile. “Come on. You’re pretty, he has a certain charm, people will talk. No matter how good you are at your job.”

You tilted your head, your smile growing bigger.

“Thanks,” you said. “I appreciate it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky entering the hallway as well, talking to a congressman but he stopped dead in his tracks, then turned to the congressman, pretending to listen to him with a frown even though you knew very well that he was watching you. Your heartbeat got faster and you took a deep breath, trying to focus on Lucas who ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “And it would be stupid, you know? Like as far as I’ve seen, you’re too smart for that.”

You forced a laugh. “Way too smart.”

“Not to mention, you probably have uh—have a boyfriend right?”

Bucky’s whole body stiffened, but the only clue any observer would have noticed was the way his jaw clenched.

Which, you were pretty sure that no one noticed but you.

“I actually just got out of a very long relationship,” you said, stealing a look at Bucky before smiling at Lucas. “Hey, you know what? I just remembered it was my turn to get coffee today and Kelsey needs her coffee so I need to get to the cafeteria. See you around?”

“Uh, sure!” he said as you started walking. “Hey, we still need to do the—”

“The report, working on it!” you called out and turned the corner, then let out a breath and leaned back to the wall.

Alright.

This was ridiculous.

It was a stupid rumor, and no matter how much you wanted Bucky, he still had a girlfriend.

A girlfriend who was coming by sometime this week.

You shut your eyes, willing yourself to calm down before you wiped the sweat off your forehead, then started making your way to the cafeteria. You went down the stairs and turned a corner but as soon as you did, someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into the nearest room, covering your mouth to cut off your scream.

It was only when the door closed shut that you realized who it was.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, panic still pounding in your head. “Bucky, I swear to God if someone saw—”

“That corner is a blind spot.”

You blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“The cameras don’t see that corner and here, so no one will know.”

You took a look at the supply closet you were in, trying to pull your thoughts together before you looked up at his stupidly handsome face.

“And why—why are we in a supply closet?”

“Did I or did I not say he wanted you?” he asked, pointing at the door that led outside and you raised your brows.

“Huh?”

“That guy. Lucas.”

“I feel like we have more important things to talk about rather than someone asking me out.”

“So you do accept he was asking you out?”

“We’re just going to ignore the elephant in the supply closet then? Alright, great.”

“Birdie, he was trying to find out if you had a boyfriend because he—”

“How was your weekend?” you cut him off. “Mine was a fucking disaster, thank you for asking.”

A look of guilt flashed across his face, his eyes darting over your face.

“…Sorry.”

You scoffed a breath from your nose, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How was it, really?” Bucky asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Bad,” you said. “Even my mom called, and I’m pretty sure my father was listening to every word I said. And you?”

“I was going to come and see you—”

“Terrible idea.”

“And then I texted you and you said tomorrow.”

You offered him a small smile. “Ah, thank you for listening to me.”

“Well to be honest, I was going to come anyway.”

“Of course.”

“I was losing my mind,” he insisted. “But uh, Sarah said I should give you your space, and she’s usually right about everything, so…”

Called it.

“And Hazel?”

He paused for a moment.

“She’s coming today, actually,” he said. “And she’ll stay until that gala nonsense.”

You tried to ignore the bitter taste at the back of your throat and nodded your head.

“That’s good. And like, in terms of optics—”

“Birdie, are we okay?” he cut you off as if he couldn’t keep it in anymore and you licked your lips.

“Depends,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t care about rumors, you know that.”

“You can’t say it didn’t bother you.”

“I honestly don’t give a—I don’t care.” He stopped himself from cursing and you bit back a smile.

“Nobody would blame you if you did,” you said. “If Caleb didn’t spin it, it could’ve affected your votes, the campaign next term, not to mention your work in here.”

“I don’t care,” he insisted. “I just…”

You watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly like he was nervous all of a sudden, like he couldn’t get the words out. This wasn’t the first time you were seeing this, whenever Bucky needed to talk about his feelings he either faltered or shut down, but every single time he got that kicked puppy look on his face; brows pinched together, lips turned downwards in the most kissable way, his eyes cast down and his gaze turning distant.

It took everything in you not to pull him to yourself and kiss him just to make sure he would never look that sad or lost again.

“I need you to be okay,” he ended up saying quietly, still looking at the floor instead of your face. “For—” He gestured between you. “For us to be okay.”

Oh you had to get out of here before you started taking your clothes off.

Or got on your knees.

Or got on your knees while taking your clothes off.

“We’re okay,” you managed to breathe out, forcing yourself to focus. “We’re totally okay if you’re okay.”

He gave you a curt nod, biting inside his cheek. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” you said and repressed a smile. “And he wasn’t asking me out.”

That managed to pull him out of that shell he was retrieving into, making his head snap up.

“He was!” he said while you let out a laugh and opened the door to step outside with him following you. “No, Birdie I’m telling you—”

“He was just curious I’m sure,” you said, still grinning and he let out a groan, awakening those butterflies in your stomach again.

“He was fishing for information.”

You made a face. “Was he though?”

“Yes because he—where are we going?”

“We’re going to get coffee,” you said as you made your way to the cafeteria. “I feel like I’m going to need a lot of it today.”

                                      *

The rest of the day was relatively better. Apparently, Caleb’s approach to that whole scandal had worked on most people but he had warned you that you had to be careful in the following day not to do anything to fuel any more of that fire.

Which was fine.

It wasn’t like Bucky was asking you out to go to pubs anyway.

“Kels?” you asked without looking up from your computer. “Can you send me the report we had on the uh— on the I think the first week of last month, with the mental health resources for veterans?”

Kelsey tilted her head. “Weren’t you working on the clean energy bill with Mr. Rebound?”

You lifted your head to stare at her. “Mr. what now?”

“Mr. Rebound,” Kelsey said. “Because, you know, you need to get out there but he’s obviously not gonna be the one who get into a relationship with. He’s just a guy you sleep with a couple of times and then find someone else.”

You stole a look at Bucky’s closed door, then turned to her and grabbed the small fox figure on your desk.

“Okay, many things wrong with that theory,” you said, turning it in your hands. “First of all, I literally just got out of a relationship.”

“Yeah I know. Five Minutes Comma Max.”

“Well it—okay, that one is good,” you said with a huff of laughter. “Anyways, even if I were looking for a rebound, it wouldn’t be someone from work. I literally work with the guy.”

A smirk curled Kelsey’s lips and she jerked her head in the direction of Bucky’s office, and you pointed at her with the figure.

“Kelsey.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s true love,” she said, clutching at her chest dramatically and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s just different.”

Kelsey looked around the office, then pushed her chair back to come sit on your desk.

“Well you can keep yourself busy while…” she trailed off and stole a look at Bucky’s closed door before turning to you. “You know.”

You shook your head while she crossed her legs, leaning forward so that you could hear her murmur.

“Did I tell you she’s coming here for lunch?”

“Hazel?” you whispered and she nodded.

“Mm hm.”

Damn it.

Bucky had told you Hazel was coming today, but you had just assumed she was coming to the city and not the goddamn building you were in. You checked the time to see it was near lunch, and huffed out a breath.

“I cannot be here when she drops by,” you said. “She already wanted me fired before, and I don’t want to push my luck.”

“Bucky would never fire you.”

“I’m still not risking it,” you said. “I’ll just go to the bathroom and be right back, and then we can go to lunch? There’s no way we’ll be having lunch at the same place anyway.”

“You do realize you’ll have to see her at the gala?”

“That’s a problem for the future me, be right back,” you said and walked out of the office to go into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

While you were washing your hands, you were also trying to come up with excuses to skip the gala but none seemed convincing enough. It was going to be an important event so Bucky was going to want you there even if Hazel didn’t.

Maybe it would be crowded enough that you could avoid both of them for the whole night.

You finished washing your hands and went to the hand dryer but as soon as you took a step, the bathroom door opened, making you turn your head out of habit.

Fuck.

Oh fuck, oh fuck…

Hazel seemed as surprised to see you as you were to see her, and you offered her a small smile just because you didn’t know what the fuck you were supposed to do, then turned your attention to the hand dryer.

Okay.

You just had to walk out.

You had already smiled and acknowledged her presence, which was probably more interaction than she wanted from you, so you just had to walk out of the bathroom, go to the cafeteria and text Kelsey. You pulled your hands back from the dryer while Hazel refreshed her lipstick, her eyes on the mirror even though you knew she was paying attention to your every single movement.

Anne Boleyn worked for Catherine of Aragon for years, you can handle just walking out of the bathroom while Hazel is here.

Keep walking.

Just walking to the door, not saying anything—

But of course you had to turn around the moment you gripped the door handle: “Miss Brooks?”

Fuck.

She raised her brows as if she was taken aback by your audacity –which to be honest, you were as well— but she didn’t say anything, just looked at you in complete silence, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. You could already feel the stomachache you were going to get from anxiety, but you took a deep breath and cleared your throat.

“Um, I just wanted to say—” you stammered. “I’m guessing you saw that gossip piece, and I know of course you didn’t believe it because it’s completely false, but I wanted to apologize anyway, if it…um, if I somehow crossed the line.”

The silence was not making things easy so of course your brain took it as a demand to fill it immediately.

“Because like, I can assure you everything between Mr. Barnes and I, it’s completely professional. I would never—I mean obviously also he would never—we— not that I’m referring to him and I as a unit or anything, what that piece suggested is just lies and—”

“I know it’s just lies.”

Her voice was completely calm, similar to the approach Bucky had adapted while you were freaking out at his doorstep, but unlike his, Hazel’s tone also held a condescending tinge in it. You gulped to ease the tightening in your throat, then nodded your head with a forced smile.

“Oh.”

“Obviously nothing is going on between you two.”

You shook your head fervently. “Oh, of course—”

“But it’s not from a lack of trying on your part.”

That managed to shut you up, your eyes snapping up to hers. She hadn’t even said it in a hostile way, it was phrased in such a matter-of-fact way that for a couple of seconds you just gawked at her, then managed to pull yourself together.

“Miss Brooks, I can assure you I would never do that.”

Hazel smiled at you as if she was entertained by your pitiful attempt to lie to her and you cleared your throat.

“Our relationship is completely professional—”

“If you’re gonna recite me some PR bullshit, you should just email that to my assistant,” she pointed out. “Listen, I’m not here to start a catfight, and I’m certainly not going to fight over a man, both of those are beneath me. Or any other woman. I’m not even trying to insult you, I’m just telling you that I know.”

You pursed your lips just so that you could stop the words threatening to spill from them.

“I get it,” she said and gestured at you. “You’re the pretty, starry-eyed girl and he’s…well, him. So to be honest, it would be surprising if this whole schoolgirl crush didn’t take place. Obviously it will.”

You gritted your teeth, barely noticing that you were wringing your hands to keep your calm.

“You are important to Bucky,” she said. “You’re good at what you do, and despite this whole thing, apparently you’re somehow smart…”

Fuck. You.

“But the fact that your relationship is professional is not because you’re keeping it professional,” she said. “It’s because he’s determined to ignore those cute lovesick smiles you keep throwing his way.”

Nope.

You were not going to take this bait, and you were certainly not going to react to this in any way.

“So you don’t need to worry about me,” she said with a small smile. “I don’t see you as any threat to my relationship.”

You tried to swallow the bitterness of anger at the back of your throat, and as much as you wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, what left your lips was very different.

“Have a nice day, Miss Brooks.”

With that, you pulled the door open and walked out of the bathroom, still shaking with fury.

                                            *

“I applaud your self-control because I would’ve gone full on high school bathroom fight on her, I don’t care how much money her family has.”

You rolled your eyes as you laid on the floor and Caleb filled Kelsey’s glass with wine.

“I mean,” he said, “it sounds like she kind of called you a whore.”

“A dumb whore,” Kelsey added and you pointed at her.

“Exactly!” you said. “Whore I could understand, but dumb? That’s just rude as hell.”

“Maybe you should’ve told her to ask her man why he’s throwing a fit every time Lucas so much as breathes within the perimeter,” Kelsey said with a smirk and you scoffed.

“He’s not throwing a fit.”

“Sorry, what do we call breaking a goddamn chair when Lucas asked you out?”

“And to repeat, I was in that chair.” Caleb wagged his finger in the air. “It could’ve been my fucking neck. I basically survived the Winter Soldier.”

“Oh and pulling you into a supply closet?” Kelsey asked, motioning at you and you heaved a sigh, then pulled yourself up into a sitting position, making a face when your back cracked.

“We really do need a couch.”

“What’s wrong with our pillows?” Caleb gestured at the pillows and you shook your head.

“We look like interns at a startup tech company that has an open buffet of cereals.”

“Great, now I’m craving cereal,” Caleb muttered and looked between you and Kelsey. “Do you guys think anyone tried cereal with wine?”

“Nope.”

“Let’s try it,” he said and walked to the kitchen while you let out a whine, pressing your hands on your eyes.

“Kels…”

“Listen, she does see you as a threat,” Kelsey said. “That’s why she gave you that condescending talk, but it doesn’t matter. That relationship won’t last, you know that, I know that, Sarah knows that, and most importantly, Hazel knows that.”

“I don’t know that actually.”

Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Max was your first serious boyfriend and all, but even you can’t be that out of the loop when it comes to relationships.”

“And yet.” You took a sip of your wine. “Guess who he’s probably fucking right now?”

“Aw, guess who he’s probably imagining while he’s fucking her right now?”

“Bucky isn’t like that,” you said. “And I doubt anyone would imagine anyone else when they have Hazel in their bed. Have you seen that woman? She’s gorgeous.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kelsey sang and you rubbed your eyes.

“Kels, I can’t…” you trailed off. “Listen, what if she has a point? I—I have feelings for him but what if he sees me as some dumb girl with a crush that he entertains just because of my job?”

“You can’t let her get to you, and that’s not how he sees you.”

“But we don’t know that, do we? If he had any feelings for me, he would break up with Hazel.”

“Just like how you broke up with Max?” she asked, making you frown. “Because we both know your feelings for him started way before your break up and to repeat, Bucky is from a different century. He’s not gonna make a move on you while he’s in a relationship, but he’s trying to find a way to get out of that relationship without that breakup hurting Hazel’s…reputation.”

You scoffed. “Her reputation?”

“People couldn’t just drop relationships back in the 40s, Birdie.”

“Well, it’s not the—”

“Did you guys decide what you’re going to wear to that gala?” Caleb asked, coming back with a bowl of dry cereal and three spoons in his hand. “I mean we’ll be working and all, but we can’t just go with our usual clothes. And I don’t have a suit.”

“I’ll help you out, Cinderella.”

Caleb sat down. “You’re an angel, Kels.”

“I have a bunch of clothes from the time Max would drag me to events,” you said. “Kels, you can borrow one of mine if you’d like.”

“Oh I’d like that very much.”

“I mean they’re not exactly gowns but they should—” you started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating, making all three of you look at the caller ID, your heart doing a happy flip in your chest before you frowned at yourself.

“Well, what do you know?” Kelsey said and took a sip of her wine. “I guess he wasn’t fucking her after all.”

“Why does Bucky hate texting?” Caleb mused and Kelsey shrugged her shoulders.

“Probably because it reminds him of telegraphs from the front or something—”

“I’ll be back,” you said as you snatched the phone and stood up while Caleb reached for the wine bottle.

“Are we doing this or not?”

“Caleb, that sounds disgusting…” Kelsey whined and you walked to your room, then closed the door behind you and answered the call, your heart beating in your ears.

 “Hey.”

“Hi.” Bucky’s voice reached your ear, filling your stomach with butterflies. “Everything alright?”

You needed to pull your shit together.

Contrary to what Kelsey and Caleb told you, Hazel did have a point. You were acting like a starry-eyed idiot with a schoolgirl crush, and you couldn’t let Bucky think that about you, not when you had been trying so hard to prove yourself.

You swallowed nervously. “Yeah. Why?”

“You uh—” He paused. “You usually see me before you leave work?”

 You pursed your lips, sitting down on your bed to grab Blinky. Of course it hadn’t escaped his notice, with or without Hazel you always made sure to see him before you left work, ever since you had started working together.

However, you had a feeling that did not help the starry-eyed thing.

“Birdie?”

Your head snapped up and you closed your eyes, then took a deep breath and opened them again.

“I was busy with the clean energy thing,” you said. “Sorry about that.”

“No I didn’t ask for you to apologize,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to make sure.”

You ran a hand over your face, then looked down at Blinky, biting inside your cheek.

“Um,” you said. “Did you need me for something?”

You could almost see the frown on his face as he paused on the other line for a second.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

You wiped your eyes, then heaved a sigh. “Nothing is wrong.”

“Did someone say something?”

Oh yeah, funny you should ask. Your girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to say no, but turned your head when Caleb’s voice carried into the room.

“Birdie you need to come here, I think I discovered a new type of food!”

You scrunched up your face, playing with Blinky’s tail.

“I should go,” you rasped out and he let out a shaky breath.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I told you. Nothing is wrong.”

“No, something is wrong and I’m gonna—” He paused and you could almost see him pacing restlessly, running his hands through his hair like he always did whenever he was stressed. “I need to fix whatever is making you sad.”

“That’s not your responsibility.”

“Yes it is.”

“Why?” Your voice came out harsher than you intended and he fell quiet for a moment. You pursed your lips, then scoffed.

“See? Exactly.”

“Birdie, you…” he trailed off and let out a breath. “You know why.”

You didn’t trust your voice so you just stayed silent, turning Blinky’s tail around your finger.

“Come on,” he insisted in a soft whisper. “You have to know why.”

You dragged your tongue over your teeth, trying to keep yourself calm but the words had already left your lips before you could control yourself.

“How’s Hazel?”

Silence fell upon him and you clicked your tongue, nodding to yourself.

“Good night Bucky,” you said and hung up, then let yourself fall back to the bed, your eyes still burning with tears. You sniffled, holding Blinky to your chest and kicked at the covers at the foot of the bed just so that you could get some of the frustration out of your system.

If Bucky wanted to be with her, fine.

But you weren’t going to let anyone see you as an idiot.

“Birdie!”

“Coming!” you called out and wiped your eyes, then got up from the bed and put Blinky on the pillow, then made your way to the living room to find Caleb holding up the cereal bowl which seemed to be filled with wine, grinning at you.

“I’m a genius.”

“And I’m in the mood to get drunk,” you said as you sat down next to Kelsey. “Wine cereal it is.”

Chapter 11

[botchedbrat]

never once did you think you’d be sending a video of yourself masturbating to a guy before, but here you are. you also never thought you’d be putting so much thought into something so simple. was the angle okay? were your moans pretty enough? would he even enjoy it?

little did you know jisung was trying to hold it together in a cramped bathroom stall. he stares down at the three bubbles anxiously. did you back out? did you not want to do this anymore? did he pressure you too much? would he even have enough time to rub one out before it was time to go on stage?

both of you stare down at your phones with the same feeling of anxiety. biting down on your thumbnail, you quickly press send. you were just going to drop your phone and run away, but why not add a little flirty text too before you flee?

from: y/n (:

attachment: 1 video

here’s a little something ;)

jisung feels his body run cold. his thumb shakily hovering over the play button. he closes his eyes and lets a breath out before shoving all his thoughts to the back of his head and pressing play.

he whimpers at the sight of your tits. how he wishes he could have them in his mouth right now. perhaps he could wait until tonight, where you’ll both finally be alone. no interruptions, no more waiting. he’d been yearning for the day he finally gets to touch you, feel the warmth of your skin.

he moans at the sight of you spreading your legs, pussy now on full display for him. he watches the way you run a finger up your slit before teasing yourself by slowly slipping in a finger. it’s not until he hears that sweet sound from your mouth that he feels himself harden in his pants. it was just a soft gasp, but even that was enough to do it for him.

taking his cock out he slowly pumps himself, matching your pace. god did you have such a pretty pussy. maybe one day you could teach him how to please you.

he’s a minute in now and he can feel how close he is. it almost feels pathetic, but can you blame him? he can’t help it that you’re so pretty and you just turn him on so much. it isn’t until you bring a hand up to your tit, squeezing your palm around it, stimulating yourself by playing with your nipple, that he cums. he cums to the sight of you playing with your tit. he truly is done for.

he leans his head back against the stall door. suddenly the stall feels even more cramped and stuffy. the video’s still going and he looks down letting out a breathy laugh at the fact he came and the video still wasn’t even over yet. maybe next time he could edge himself a little longer to cum with you.

before cleaning himself up he takes a picture of the evidence and sends it to you.

from: jisung <3

attachment: 1 image

hey…

so i might’ve came a little early heh 😅

hearing the ping from your phone you slowly lift it up to see he had responded. he even hearted the video. tapping on the picture, you almost moan at the sight of his cock. how is it possible for a cock to be so pretty? you could start drooling just thinking about having it in your mouth or inside you.

bringing a finger down to your pussy you feel how wet you are. you moan softly and slip your finger in. just thinking about him, his cock, his cum. how warm it would feel inside you. his pretty lips you wish you could kiss. how pretty his moans would sound like. just the thought of him was enough to make you cum.

staring up at the ceiling you think, how the fuck did you end up here?

from: y/n (:

y/n (: hearted an image

that’s alright baby

see u tonight 😉

[polaris-daydreams]

yeah you wish that i was yours (so do i)

pairing : andrew “pope” cody x reader

warnings : fighting, manhandling, choking, blood, licking of said blood, injury, jealousy, pope makes j watch him and reader, pope calls reader “kid”, “baby” n "my girl".

summary : what happens when you keep pushing pope to play fight with you. (except they are both also yearning idiots in love). read part 2, part 3 & part 4

w/c : 2.6k words (yes i may have gotten carried away)

a/n : im super² sick but i could. not. get my ask and this thought from @erwinsvow out of my head so i decided to try and churn my inspiration from lovely shea into this fic. i just finished s1 and this is my first time writing pope so i hope i got his character okay :”)). apologies if this isn't the best work, i'm literally curled up and still burning up as i'm writing this booo. dividers are credited to @saradika-graphics. hope you enjoy !! do like, comment or reblog (or send hot soup) if you did <33

The first strike is the day when Pope gets out of prison. 

You’re standing dumbstruck with your bought meal still in hand when you spot him sitting in the middle of the couch. He’s so … real this time. You must look like an idiot to the rest of the family, still in shock. (Maybe Pope would let you in on this secret later on in your relationship, but when he saw you again, he felt that you were as beautiful as the day he lost you). 

Pope’s eyes travel down your frame, soaking in every detail of you, memorising you as if he didn't have every pixel of every picture you mailed him ingrained in the hardwires of his brain. When his eyes flit back up to meet yours, you feel something start to unlock behind those walls. 

Your eye twitches when you notice how close Smurf is next to him. You hate how she’s already sunken her venomous claws back into Pope, probably starting to scheme how she can puppeteer him again. You want to save Pope, get him away from the void that sinks its teeth in you and never leaves, not entirely, even when you think you’re free. So you do the thing all Cody’s are good at, starting a fight.

“Move, you’re in my spot.” You try to keep your voice even as possible, as if seeing Pope in person after all these years didn’t sweep the rug out from under your feet.

“Hey lay off, Pope’s only been back a couple hours. And since when is that spot y-” You cut off Baz by squeezing in the free space that separates Pope from the end of the couch.

You make yourself comfortable, well as comfortable as you can being so close to Pope again, and place your feet in his lap (despite having more than enough space). Pope glances down at how you've made yourself at home in his lap, then at you. You raise an eyebrow, trying to seem unbothered and rest your side against the back of the couch. 

The family starts talking about their business again, making you begin to lose interest. Just as your eyelids start to drop though, you catch Smurf smoothing her hand over Pope’s curls. Something stirs in you. The part of your brain that makes you do stupid things.

You kick your foot in Pope’s lap, wanting to annoy him. (Wanting him to pay attention to you instead). It works slightly, with him gripping your ankle. But he’s still looking forward. Staring out into space, shielded, guarded, as if the two of you didn't share secrets as kids. As if he wasn't your guard dog the moment he laid eyes on your trembling frame, when Smurf introduced you to the family shortly after she found Catherine. It’s not enough. So you put on a show. Making crude jokes, poking and prodding at him, laying on the snarky attitude.

Pope thinks this is unlike you, unlike his childhood sweetheart friend. He puts together that you must want something, not him obviously but maybe just some attention. Pope doesn't mean to be that aggressive, a sentiment he reserves only for you. But this new kid is unnerving him. It unsettles him, how J quietly laughs at your bad attempts of mean jokes, how his eyes occasionally roam over you. It's why he's been staring straight instead of at you. If Pope gets lost in the sight of you, he wouldn't be able to stand guard. Except J’s gaze dips down, making Pope follow his eyeline. Realising the kid has the nerve to travel his eyes down to the small bit of exposed skin, when your kicking of him makes your shirt ride up.

Pope’s jaw clenches and you think you've finally gotten to him. But he pounces on you so fast that you almost get whiplash.

What the fuck?

Pope is hovering over you, your wrists pinned by one hand, his knees spreading your legs apart to accommodate his frame. You feel his free hand sliding down the front of your shirt, but your confusion is quickly brushed off when Baz cuts in,

“Fuckin’ cut it out you two! I don’t need another headache right now.” 

That signature heavy stare remains on you for a couple more seconds, almost like Pope is trying to decipher you. Then, he grunts and lets go of your hands, moving off the couch completely. 

The second strike is when you both get into a screaming match. Well, more like you’re shouting and Pope is Pope still. The job had gone wrong and he had refused to accept your care until you had finished stitching up Deran’s bullet wound. Even though Pope was very visibly concussed and in pain. The whole time you attended to Deran, you kept stealing glances at Pope, just to make sure he was still alive and kicking (it's what you tell yourself), only to find him already staring straight at you. Keeping your tongue tied, you busied yourself with patching up the boys. Until they all went off, leaving you and Pope alone. Giving you the empty space to berate Pope for his lack of self-importance when it comes to his family. 

“Drop it, kid.” Pope grumbles out, passing by you to take a drink from the fridge.

“No, no. You’re not doing to me (to yourself).” You respond, putting all your might into pushing his back that's facing you.

Pope feels the force from your shove, his strong arm slamming against the cool fridge door to brace himself. His shoulders are hunched. His head hung low. You can feel the tension brewing inside of him. That barely contained anger simmering beneath the surface. He straightens up when he swivels around, dark eyes meeting yours. 

“I don't think you really want to play this game with me kid.” Pope stalks towards you, his footsteps not making a sound.

You scoff, meeting him halfway and getting in his face.

“Why? Afraid you’ll lose? Think y-” You don't get to finish your sentence because Pope’s hand wraps around your throat.

It’s light, not enough to constrict your airflow too much. He’s holding back again. You hate it. You hate him. That’s a lie you repeat to yourself when Pope slams your back to the wall. You despise him because even now in his anger, he still places his free hand behind your skull. Cushioning your pretty little head leaving your back to feel most of the ache. But you want more. More pain that only Pope can give to you. (Or maybe you want Pope to give his pain to you).

Pope tilts his head down to make sure you’re looking right at him. Closing the gap between you two, he whispers against your lips,

“If you play that game with me kid, the only way it ends is with you face down on my bed. I won't stop giving it to you, even if you're begging so sweetly. You want that huh? You want me?” Pope tightens his hold on your throat, but you can sense the vulnerability spilling out at the last sentence.  

“Say, I’m sorry Andrew, c’mon kid.” Pope breaks eye contact to give you this command, whispering in your ear.

“I’m s-sorry … Andrew.” You manage to gasp out.

Satisfied, Pope softens his hold on you, rubbing the sensitive skin on your neck. He plants a soft kiss at the top of your head, so gentle you almost think you imagined it.

“Good. There’s my baby again.”

The last strike is when most of the family is lounging by the pool.

You can feel Pope staring at you.

Sometimes you think he stares harder when he thinks you aren't looking. Smurf’s out somewhere on a task so all the brothers are playing their usual game in the pool, wrestling and fighting over the ball. You’re basking in the sun, leaning sideways on your elbow by the side of the pool. Frowning when you keep noticing Pope playing rough with J. He doesn't deserve that. What better way to lessen that burden on him by putting it on yourself right? (Of course that's the only reason why, not to stop Pope from feeling outshined by a new arrival, totally not). You splash water at Pope, complaining how you're so bored, stating confidently that you could score against him.

“Alright’ kid, c’mon show me what you got then yeah?” Pope relents as he enters the pool again.

You feel giddy with excitement even though you know he's just doing this to get you to shut up. 

…

Pope is barely tightening his hold on you from behind, giving you a fair chance to back out and win easily. But you don't want that. You want Pope to get aggressive with you, put his face all up in yours, make you submit to him. Why can't he just give you what you want? Why is he always so gentle with you? You know why deep down, but that doesn’t stop your emotions from getting the better of you.

You swing your arm back, decking Pope with your elbow. The blow makes him release you completely, and you swim up, up, up and finally breathe when your face exits the water. Easily scoring and celebrating when you climb out the pool, meeting J’s small grin and bumping shoulders with him. You nearly make his shot topple over.

“How about that huh?” You boast despite knowing you played dirty, but your cocky smile falls when J’s expression changes before he downs the shot.

You frown, turning back. Oh, shit. Pope’s emerged from the pool too, but his nose is dripping an obscene amount of blood. It trickles down his chin, his chest and stomach.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Pope. You okay? Here come on, I’ll get you cleaned up”. Running over to Pope, reaching for his arms to lead him back into the house.

But his hand catches you first. 

One hand bounding both of your wrists.

“You can clean me up here just fine, kid.” Pope says so calmly, not even a little bothered about the blood gushing out and down.

‘Yeah okay, let me just get the first aid kit alright?” 

“Kid.” Pope pulls you closer by your hands and walks you backwards.

“I said you can do it here. You’ve had such a mouth on you lately baby, let’s put it to good use yeah?”

Oh, fuck he can’t just say things like that.

The back of your legs hits a lounge chair. The one beside where J’s sitting on, eyes darting between the two of you.

“I’ll get out of your wa-”

“No. You're staying there.” Pope’s tone leaves no room for arguing, guarded eyes locking onto J.

Though when Pope looks back at you, his gaze softens the tiniest bit. Unnoticeable to anyone else, but not to you.

“Pope I- I’m really sorry oka-”

“Shhh, it’s okay kid. M’not mad.” Pope brushes your back with his free hand as he maneuvers the two of you on the empty seat, you atop his lap.

“Just want you to take care of me.” Pope whispers into your ear, private from J.

You furrow your brows at his words.

Oh.

Now you understand. 

Of course Pope would see through you, he’s always seen you. The only one who had.

Pope reels back, just enough to meet your eyes with his intense gaze. An unspoken connection. One asking if you want to stop, keep your bond a sacred secret. The other responding to let them see, see who I belong to, that I belong to you. 

The red string that ties the both of you coils protectively around your shared hearts. A beat passes, and you feel the red string relaxing.

Pope lets your hands go as he leans back into the seat, letting you crawl slightly back. You brace your arms, and lean down. The taste of copper fills your senses as you slowly drag your tongue up Pope’s abs. He shudders beneath your contact, not used to a caring touch. You make your way up to his chest, noticing his erratic breathing. Finally, you make it to Pope’s face, where most of the blood is smeared all over from his initial attempt of cleaning it off. 

You meet Pope’s eyes. He’s already watching you. He’s  always watching you. 

Cradling his jaw with your hand, you scoop up the remaining scattered blood on your thumb. You bring your finger past your lips, not breaking eye contact with Pope.

He doesn't blink. 

He hasn't taken his eyes off of you, not since he caught the glimpse of you being all close to J.

In a blink, Pope smashes your lips together, hand pushing at the back of your neck, strong arm wrapping possessively around your waist. He shoves his tongue past your lips, swallowing up your sweet moans and tasting his own blood. 

It's intoxicating. He’s intoxicating. 

All you can sense is his bruising grip on you, the metallic taste of his blood, his heavy breathing.

The big splashes of water as the other brothers fight in the pool, the overlapping shouts and quarreling, the clinking of shot glasses. None of that even registers in your mind.

All you can think and feel is Pope. Him, him, only him.

When you both slowly part for air, Pope rests his forehead against yours. Still breathing heavily, his hungry eyes dart down to the red string of saliva connecting from your lips to his. 

“Hey! If you two are done being fuckin’ freaks, we could really use Pope and J back in the game!” Baz’s voice cuts through the intimate moment.

“Dude c’mon they were just getting to the good part.” Craig butts in and you have to resist rolling your eyes as you scoot away from Pope.

“Shows over. You boys have fun, but I’m gonna take my girl inside.” Pope announces much to their disappointment, you can already hear them arguing over how to settle the remaining rounds.

“That goes for you too, you can go now.” He deadpans to J, who if you didn't know any better, was tomato red all over from the hot sun.

“Oh y-yeah, of course.” J stutters out as he gets up and away from the two of you.

You barely contain your amusement as you turn back to Pope.

“You didn't have to do that, you know.” You mutter as you stand up from the edge of the seat, reaching out your hand to him.

“He kept looking and smiling at you, as if you didn't already belong to me.” Pope raises himself, slowly holding your soft hand in his. 

You grin, knowing he knows that he's dodging your actual question. No words are needed, not when the shared eye contact speaks for the two of you.

You didn't have to let me take care of you in front of an audience.

I know, but I wanted you to. Wanted them to see, see who I belonged to.

Pope hesitantly interlocks his hand with yours, making you crack a smile. Him being oh so shy as if he didn't just have his tongue down your throat a moment ago.

“Thank you.” You whisper as you lead him back into the house.

Pope doesn't respond, just keeps burning his eyes into your frame. You don’t elaborate either, choosing to walk in silence. But it's not an uncomfortable silence, no. Not when your intrinsic bond is weaved beyond words. A whole chapter said with just his eyes meeting yours. 

Thank you for letting me take care of you.

Thank you for letting me love you, in our own messed way.

The understanding flows through the red string connecting your hearts.

a/n : rly scared that i got his characterisation off so im sorry if it is :((. LISTENN ok i'm sorry, when i sent that ask I was in a much more feral mood, but since i got sick (again) I wanted some comfort and softness sprinkled in. hey don't look at me like that. tagging @callsign-fangirl bcs we go feral over shawn hatosy in chat. anyways hope you enjoy !! pretty please like, comment and reblog with your rambles if you did muaks <3 !

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star- chap three preview

Pairings- Pornstar! Satoru x shy f!reader

Warnings - mentions of fingering and sex, reader is in her head, yearning, mutual pining. light angst as the two of them are just very different (FYI Satoru won't be having sex with anyone but reader from last chapter on - his dick quit working lol) preview is 1k words god lmao, this chap is gonna be LONG fyi

“Ah!” Her moan echoes too much, he pauses then, quiet as he just stares at the camera like he’s staring at you.

You’ve lost it.

You tip him as you’d intended to, quickly shutting your laptop and damn near hyperventilating. What’s wrong with you!? His job is to fuck women, so you saw him touching one, what do you expect? The man had a gang bang scene just yesterday, and dinner with you tonight. You have to shove it all down then, you have to remember what he does.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t special though, for you.

Did he do things off camera with-

Stop it!

The phone rings a few minutes later and you just stare at it, lost in your own head, wishing you could compartmentalize it so much better, that you could separate the two. You were so stupid for engaging and knowing, but at the same time, to not have Satoru seems like something you can’t compute, even if it is just as a friend, even if you can’t be sexual.

Maybe you read it all wrong, that night.

Satoru calls again, shaking out his hand as his co star is now fucking herself quite expertly on a dildo, since Satoru can’t get hard for anything - it’s worse today than yesterday - he decided to turn it into a guided masturbation video. At least his fucking fingers still work, despite jerking off to you so much his cock is raw, remembering your lips surrounding it.

Even fingering her he’s picturing your pussy, fuck he wants to just bury himself in it again, he knows the two of you are ‘friends’ or whatever the fuck this was, but it’s exceedingly difficult when it’s affecting him like this. He keeps wondering if you all sleep together, will it make it worse or better? Was he all in his head, as if you would go for someone like him if he did date.

Date- he doesn't date- how could he, what was he thinking lately?

He saw your name in the stream and his stomach had dropped - and why, you’re just a friend, it was fine if you wanted to see a bit of a stream and tip, he knows it is to be supportive. You’re supportive and sweet, so sweet, god your taste and scent still haunt him, he’s been dying to see you tonight, in any capacity, but when he saw the name he felt awful.

He only wants to fuck you, touch you, but he has a career and commitments, to get her to agree to this instead of fucking was already difficult and he was slowly losing it as his cock kept refusing to work. Even if he could get it up, he didn’t like the idea of fucking someone else at all, after the debacle of a gang bang yesterday. But even touching someone was doing nothing for him.

Now he saw you leave so quickly, and decided to gently smack his co star’s ass, smiling as he bent her over, murmuring he needs a break. She eagerly took over the spotlight, the opportunity was a huge one for her anyway as a smaller star. Satoru keeps staring at your picture, sighing as he notices the little reflections in your glasses, touching the screen softly.

You saw him touching someone, did you care, did it bother you-

Why is he thinking like this!?

He calls again, and you answer, much to his relief, as his hands let go of the bathroom counter he’d gripped too tightly. “Hey Satoru, sorry I popped in, I thought it was um… you…”

“Jerking off?” He finishes the sentence, leaning back against his wall and shutting his eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you did um… shoots at home. You should get back to it, why are you calling me, silly? Looks like um… you were, ah… doing… good.” You’re breaking out every voice, cursing yourself quietly, why can’t you just speak? You’re shoving it all down, trying not to cry - there’s no reason to!

“Ah, yeah I thought I’d try to teach people how to make women cum, they fail often you know.” He tries to make it light, as his stomach clenches, a sick feeling when he hears your forced laugh.

“That’s very true. Someone should give you a Nobel prize for this work.” He snorts then, as the laughter becomes a little more genuine. “No you’re amazing at that. Why not show them how?”

“You thought I was amazing, hmm?” His tone changes, cock throbbing when he just hears your sigh, picturing you vividly in his mind, while the sounds of his co-star echo, moans and squelching wetness that does nothing for him.

Didn’t he used to enjoy all of this?

“You know I thought that.” Your heart pounds, you have to remember, Satoru is amazing and just because you’re hurt, you can’t be mad or upset at him. He’s not yours in any way, even if you’re starting to wish he was.

“Isn’t your co-star waiting?”

“She’s occupying herself fine. It’s not… sex…” Because I can’t get hard unless it’s you. “It’s just a tutorial.”

“Oh,” your relief shouldn’t exist, you shouldn’t care, but to hear that does make you slump over just a bit, before taking a breath. “Do you want to do dinner another day, it’s already four-”

“No, no!” Satoru panics then, since when does smooth Pornstar Satoru freak the fuck out and act desperate?

HURT FEELINGS AHEAD for both of them actually. These cuties suck at feelings. Don't have an exact date but it's in the works. Taglist is closed by you can sub on Ao3 or follow me here for updates! I don't tag anyone but perm tags in my previews so if you're on the list dw I will tag you in 3!

perm tags- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoao-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @shokosbunny

[bluetimeombre]

: ̗̀➛ The Paul Mescal school of yearning

You and Pedro had stared in the Last of Us together, and now he cannot stop talking about you at any chance given, very much similar to another friend of his…

[Pedro Pascal is my love and my life and has been for a while now, idk what anyone else has told you but we’re very happy together. Anyway, this is a little thing I created cause don’t we all want to be wanted the way Paul wants Daisy?!] daddy references, language, fem reader, not proof read

ᴘᴇᴅʀᴏᴘᴀꜱᴄᴀʟɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀᴏɴᴇꜰᴀɴ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ: ɴᴏ ʙᴜᴛ ꜰʀ ᴘᴇᴅʀᴏ ᴘᴀꜱᴄᴀʟ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴍᴇꜱᴄᴀʟ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏꜰ ʏᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜᴛ !!!

↪️ -

Yourusername: The Last of Us, out now. If you’ve ever liked me, you’ll go give it some love

1.1 m likes // 7.8k comments // 🏷️pascalispunk

urfan: obsessed

peoplelover: oh she getting that Emmy

pedroisloveislife: THE LAST OF US?!?

urfriend: ❤️

pedroishot: u and pedro are going to kill me

fanista: this is gonna break me

pascalbemine: mother is mothering!!!

pascalispunk: I’ll watch it cause I like you

↪️ yourusername: I appreciate that

↪️↪️ pascalispunk: and because pedro pascal is in it

↪️↪️↪️ yourusername: actually he got cut

↪️↪️↪️↪️ pascalispunk: 😦😦

-

pascalispunk: The Last of us with some of my favourite people. Give it some love

1.9 m likes // 101k comments

user101: cannon that pedro doesn't know what tagging is

y/nfan: that's y/n in the third picture, i know it

pedroismyman: he's so daddy

personcha: daddy

bellaisqueen: daddy is a state of mind

y/nluver: y/n took the last pictures, i scream as they drag me into the asylum

pascalandy/n: the flowers!! i need him

youryousername liked this post

↪️↪️ -

~ y/nbiggestgurl: guys!!! @yourusername and @pascalispunk at the a Stevie Nicks concert, I don’t know who I want to be more!!!!

↪️↪️↪️ - Pascalisinlove:

Everyone saying Pedro and Y/N are just friends when all of this exists:

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

'Do you ever look at instagram accounts devoted to you being a heartthrob when you’re feeling down ?'

'Yes, I do,' Pedro immediately burst into laughter.

'What’s your favourite account?'

‘It’s called Pedropascalfanaccount,' he chuckled to himself again, eyes squeezing shut. He regained himself in time. 'Y/N runs that account.'

There was silence in which he tried not to laugh again.

'Does she think you’re a heartthrob?'

Pedro cringed. 'I hope.'

comments:

but this is so normal pedro behaviour

I love Pedro and Y/N together sm, i hope the rumours are true

He's so daddy, need him

Y/N Pascal, I am here for it

↪️↪️↪️↪️ Pascalisinlove:

'K but Pedro Pascal is like this with all his costars.' Pedro being close with Y/N like any other costar:

These headlines:

↪️↪️↪️↪️↪️

One of my favourite moments- y/npascal11

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

The camera's caught you and Pedro standing next to each other as the interview progressed onto how you all bonded on set of the Last of us. She suggested, off-handily, karaoke.

Pedro leaned into the microphone. 'I hate karaoke.'

You chuckled, giving your own answer. 'I'd have loved karaoke, it's quite fun.'

Everyone lost their minds at how Pedro flustered, waving his hands around and desperately grabbing for the microphone. 'I don't mind karaoke, I don't mind it,' he quickly redeemed himself. Everyone loved how he was looking to you for approval. 'With the right company, it can be great- oh, we should go.'

Everyone watching the video lost their minds at how quick an opinion change he had as soon as he realised you liked it.

'We should!' you chuckle, playing along.

The video then played every other interview clip that could be found of Pedro expressing dislike for karaoke. He hated it. But as soon as you said you liked it his whole mind set was changed.

User101: he’s in love omg!!

User102: the way he looks at her

User33: omg internet mommy and internet daddy!!?!

- ⤵️

Pedropascalnumberonefan: this interview is what started it all, the way Paul just brings up Daisy and Pedro can’t stop talking about Y/N!!

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

Pedro and the rest of the cast of Gladitor II sat together, each taking turns holding cards and asking questions, how well do they all know one another.

Paul and Pedro seemed to be having their own competition, privately wanting to beat each other. But whilst privately competing they hadn’t realised just what they were saying:

"Who is my favourite actor?" Pedro asked, biting the lid of the pen off.

Joesph Quinn stroked the boldness of his head. "It’s me right?"

"That you’re my favourite actor?"

"Yeah- you said that to me once."

"I said that you were special," corrected Pedro, grinning to himself before laughing at his own joke. "And special can mean a lot of things."

"Marlon Brando?" Connie suggested.

"Harrison Ford?" Was another by Freddy.

And just as Pedro was gonna accept that answer, Paul said your name.

"Y/n! It’s y/n, y/n!"

Pedro’s grin split his cheeks as he turned his board and showed everyone your scribbled name, a heart jotted down next to it.

Pedro didn’t even care he’d just supplied the fans, he cared he got a point- going for a high five that nobody returned.

And if Pedro and Paul were in a competition for who could name their girls the most, Pedro had the lead very quickly as when Connie was up, asking:

"What is my favourite curse word in Danish?"

Pedro went in with ‘fuck’ which was wrong. Then he tried again with Bastard but he told himself off with that one, mumbling a:

"No that’s y/n’s favourite."

Next to him, Paul laughed.

But Paul came swinging back in the game when Joseph asked:

"What actor do I get mistaken for?"

The question had hardly left his lips when Paul erupted-

"Daisy Edgar Jones! Sometimes,"

"Um, no."

Userp12: PLS!! Jo shut him down so quick

User89: guys this is hilarious

User69: not even ten seconds in and we got a Daisy and Y/n mention

PaulMescalboy: k but do you think Paul is so mad cause Pedro stay winning, like has everyone SEEN the SNL videos

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

Everyone had seen the SNL videos. Not only had you and Pedro done a sketch to express how he is internet Daddy and you were internet Mommy looking after all your children, but then a tiktok had gone viral.

You were walking the red carpet with your assistant, the flashing lights adding to the glamour you carried in every step when you brushed by Pedro.

At first everyone was talking about how they were sure your hand was purposely grazing his ass but then everyone's jaw dropped with how you dragged your hand over the back of his neck. It was such a simple move, so nonchalant that you didn't even look as you did it.

Pedro looked.

Pedro grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it as if there weren't a hundred camera's on the pair of you.

Pedro looked at you like you'd hung the very moon.

He pulled you into him, leaving the microphone to grab you and hug you. Maybe he'd abandon the whole thing just to follow after you like a lost puppy.

But he'd left the microphone and the people in front of their phones with a deep need for love like Pedro loved you. When he muttered a small 'Dios mío'.

-

↪️

Y/nupdates: but do you all remember that time Pedro and Y/N were caught looking after her nephew together BEFORE FILMING FOR THE LAST OF US EVEN BEGAN!! UR HONOUR ITS ALWAYS BEEN THEM

-

↪️↪️

"You really facetime people a lot," said Bella, as they were on camera, discussing The Last of Us and what it was like on set.

Pedro laughed. "Let's facetime someone."

"Y/n?" asked Bella. They didn't even need to take another guess, Pedro's cheeky grin telling all just who he would be face-timing.

"Lets see if she answers me this time," he mumbled as he got your contact up.

Bella continued adding fuel to the fire. "I feel like every time I came into the tent on set, if you weren't with her on set, you'd be talking to her over the phone."

"Oh come on, don't exaggerate- she calls me!" said Pedro, furrowing his brows at the phone screen as he watched your name flicker on his phone. The camera's picked up the scrunch of his face as did Bella.

"You always do that face as well!" Bella pointed out. "When you start a face time call- you always do a little smoulder!"

Pedro chuckled. "I can't see!"

His head snapped down to his phone when the ringing had stopped and you'd picked up his call. He grinned and cheered.

"What the fuck do you want?" you playfully yelled down the phone as Pedro laughed, showing you Bella and showing you off to the camera.

-

↪️↪️↪️

User1: If Pedro went to the Paul school of yearning then Y/N went to the Daisy school of avoiding the damn question.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• play video

The video played you in your own lie detector test, similar to how Pedro had once been subjected to.

"People call you the mother of the internet," said the lady behind the camera.

You nodded and waited for the rest of it to come.

She slid a picture of Pedro over to you and your cheeks immediately went red. "Is this man your daddy?"

The camera caught you trying to keep it together but you started to laugh, hiding your face as you clearly didn't want the camera's to pick up your blush or your heart rate. "Oh geez- um," you hesitated, but picked up the picture of him. "My god his eyes are gorgeous. I think-"

"True," said the man officiating the lie detector test.

"Thank you," you quickly threw his way before addressing the question. "I think he's everyone's daddy, yeah."

"But is he your daddy?" she repeated.

You tried to think of a way to play it and yet nothing came to mind. "I plead the fifth."

-

You laughed as you finished the video and read the article’s accompanying it and even went back to look at the pictures.

You felt like a fan of yourself and Pedro as you stared at all the evidence on your phone.

Perhaps the most incriminating bit of evidence was the man stirring next to you.

"What have you been laughing about over there?" Mumbled Pedro as his arm wrapped back around your waist, tugging you closer to him again.

You cuddle in, abandoning your phone to the side. "Oh you know, just how much you love me."

Pedro knew immediately as he grumbled, hiding himself in the soft skin of your neck. "That damn video again?"

[I hope you enjoy!! Let me know if you’d like any more Pedro,]