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A Very Ricciardo Halloween
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader
Warnings: none.
Written for @faithshouseofchaos who requested some Halloween fluff with Daniel and his kids.
Halloween had always been one of your and Daniel's favorite holidays of the year. You always roped him into doing couples’ Halloween costumes, and the love the pair of you had for the holiday only grew when your son, Ethan, came along and you basically had a mini Daniel to dress up too.
The first year he was born, you had gone as a cowboy and cowgirl, with your son in a little cow onesie, which was loved by everyone on socials and at the party you’d been invited to. The second year, you’d gone as Alan and Ellie from Jurassic Park, with Ethan as a little dinosaur. The third year, it was Shaggy, Velma, and Ethan as Scooby-Doo. The fourth year, much to all of your disappointment, Ethan was sick with an ear infection. As much as you hated missing out on a year of dressing up together as a family, you enjoyed it just as much snuggled up on the couch, eating candy and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas with him and Daniel. Then Rosie came along, this was her first Halloween.
Eventually, you knew the time would come when Ethan wouldn’t want to do costumes with you and Daniel anymore, so you cherished each Halloween you did have. This year, before you’d had a chance to even ask your son what he wanted to be, two weeks before Halloween, he approached you. He wanted to be just like his dad, matching race suit and all, and at his request, he wanted you to be his teammate and be just like Uncle Max. Obviously he’d roped his baby sister Rosie into it too. You weren’t sure how you were going to find a race suit for a six month old!
You weren’t sure how Daniel was going to take it; you knew he’d been struggling since he’d left F1, but you also couldn’t say no to your son. So that’s how you ended up the night before Halloween sewing multiple patches and ironing on transfers of various sponsors on not one but two race suits you’d bought online. For Rosie you settled on a couple of iron on transfers stuck to a baby grow. Honestly, you’d surprised yourself at how well you’d hidden the project from him, especially with how nosey Daniel could be at times.
Finally, you hung up the costumes and snapped a few photos, proud to show off your work as soon as your husband got to see the costumes. You couldn’t wait to see the look on Ethan’s face when he saw the costumes the next morning.
Ethan ran into your room that morning, “Happy Halloween,” he yelled as he began jumping up and down on the bed, causing Daniel to let out a groan as he grabbed his son and began tickling him.
Rosie began gurgling and making cooing noises and you knew your idea of sleeping in was not going to happen. Daniel set down Ethan as he grabbed Rosie and held her against his hip bouncing her up and down.
“Can we show him, momma, can we?” your son practically bounced in your husband’s arms.
Daniel looked between the pair of you. “Show me what, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Our costumes, Dad!” he responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and with a little too much attitude for a four-year-old.
You smiled at your son and nodded, “come on then.” You walked over to your husband and daughter, kissing her on your cheek before you grabbed her from your husband, “I’ll be needing this one too.”
Daniel shook his head as he made his way out of the bedroom to get started on breakfast for the four of you.
Ethan practically squealed as he saw his little race suit, covered with the big Red Bull logo on the front. But where Daniel’s name should have been next to the small Australian flag was Ethan’s. Next to it was your own matching suit, with your name also printed on the waistband.
You got into your suit first, knowing the surprise would be ruined in 10 seconds if you’d dressed Ethan first, and then got him changed, too. Ethan just about stood still long enough for you to snap a few photos of him alone and then the both of you together before he was begging you to let him out to show his dad.
He held out his hand for yours as you both made your way downstairs to where you could hear Daniel making coffee for you both. “Close your eyes, Daddy!” Ethan yelled as you got to the bottom of the stairs.
The pair of you walked into the kitchen slowly as Daniel waited, eyes closed as instructed. “Open them, Daddy!”
Slowly, Daniel opened his eyes and blinked a few times as he cleared his vision. You chewed on your lip as you waited nervously for his reaction.
“I’m you, Daddy!” Ethan squealed as he ran into his dad’s side and hugged against his leg. Daniel easily picked him up and sat him on his lap, knowing he’d be too big for it soon but cherishing every moment like that he could with his son.
“Look at you, little racer!” Daniel’s smile was huge as he walked toward you. “And look at you, pretty momma,” he whispered in your ear as he pulled you into the hug. He took Rosie from your arms, and he squealed as he tickled her, “and look at you Rosie!”
“You like it?” you asked, nervously.
“You all look amazing,” he responded as he placed a kiss on your cheek. “This is the best Halloween surprise ever.”
#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo fanfiction#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#my writing
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And Comes Dawn pt 9
Pairing: sauron/halbrand x reader, isildur x reader, sauron/halbrand x reader
Word count: 2k.
Summary: dudes just gotta stop deceiving people.
Tags: angst, insecurities, isil being a Good Dude, Galadriel and the reader still hate each other
Notes: I'm very tired (two sick kiddos will do that to a mom) and not too happy with this one. But it's a filler part. As always love yall and the feedback
You stood in silence as Halbrand left. His revelation of his past with his father and uncle had broken your resolve in your anger towards him. Confusion still sat in your chest and itched the back of your mind, but you had forgiven him. He seemed so passionate in his intention to earn you, but you had no idea what he meant by that. His deeds had already shown his character. He had saved you so many times it would be useless to count. You could only wonder what had plagued him so that he felt he still felt as if he was too tainted for you.
You thought this over, getting lost in your thoughts and thoughts of what had transpired the night before. You had never felt anything like that. Sure, you'd had desires that crossed your mind late at night. You’d had a rather large crush on one of the local farm hands, and he had entered your dreams many times. However, nothing compared to the heat that burned through you at Halbrands touch, the gruff sound of his voice, the feel of his hot breath. You had to close your eyes, and your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you willed the thoughts that filled your mind to go away.
Soon, though, you found yourself wishing for the sound of the waves and smell of the ocean air, so you made the venture outside the inn. You watched the hustle and bustle of the locals, the sound of children's laughter. You never wanted to leave this place. It was so different from your home.
The sound of your name being called made you stand straight and tall. Soon, Isildur was running up to you, breathing heavily. “I don’t have much time, I have to be at the beach in…well, very soon,” He looked at you with a smile, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I came here to apologize for making a scene and for putting your honor to question. That was never my intention, and if you wanted to, I would completely understand if you wanted to slap me in the face a time or two. I have more than earned that.”
You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head, “I don’t think that will be needed.”
He laughed, “I am relieved, I was not looking forward to explaining that black eye to my father.”
His smile faltered for a moment as he searched for words, “If your heart belongs to another, I hope you know that I would find contentment in your friendship as well. Perhaps it would not be my first choice, but being your friend would be an honor beyond measure.”
You nodded, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “I would be content with that too. I hope that I did not lead you to believe there was more.”
Isildur shook his head, “You did not. You are simply beautiful and kind and funny, and I am but a man. I still would like to show you more of my city's culture. There is a massive library and halls of art and food better than what we were treated to last night. That is, if you are indeed interested in that.”
“Of course,” you grinned, excitement bubbling in your belly.
“Yes? Yes! Well, then I shall see you later this evening? Right before sun down. I’ll meet you here?”
You nodded, your lips parted to answer when you heard one of his friends call his name, and he simply smiled at you before running off. You remembered what Halbrand said. He wanted you to have friends, and so you would. Isildur was kind. He was respectful, and you had no reason not to trust him.
~
“Where is Halbrand?”
You looked from your lunch of rice and fish, your spirits dropping at the sound of the elf's voice. You had avoided her as best as you could, and it had been successful for the most part. You knew she hated you, and while you did your best to understand her hatred, there was part of you that blamed elves as well. If it weren’t for them, your mother would still be alive, and you’d have the baby sibling you had been so excited for. But you knew it was unfair to blame Galadriel for that. You just wish she would understand the same for you.
“Where is Halbrand?” She repeated, sounding annoyed. You noticed that in her hand, she held what appeared to be a scroll.
“I do not know. I have not seen him since this morning.”
“Did he give you any idea to where he was going?”
You shook your head, turning back to your food. You did not want this conversation to last longer than it needed to.
“You seem rather content to sit and do nothing, to feast on the food of a people who have earned prosperity. I seek to fix the wound your ancestors and your family caused. Do you not seek redemption?”
You stared at the rice on your plate, your expression hardening as you tried to keep your tongue. A fight would solve nothing. You knew she was hurting as were you but the smugness in which she carried herself, the arrogance that radiated from her, it was fueling an anger in you.
“I have committed no crime to be redeemed for.” You spoke softly, not bothering to look up at her.
“Do you not feel guilty for the 37 elven souls your father, brother, and uncle took. Are they not worth redemption? Are they not worth trying to right your fathers wrongs?”
“And what of the families in the Southlands that your kind oppresses for a sin none of us committed. Crops die, money is scarce and yet we have to give a portion to the great elves who want not for food or medicine.”
“It is a reminder…”
“A reminder that to elves, we will always be less than. You act as if the Numenorians were bestowed greatness by your kind as if man can not achieve that on his own. You act as if children are responsible for the sins of their fathers as if the elves have committed none.”
“You speak of which you know little,” Your raised voices were beginning to draw a crowd. “Do you feel no guilt or remorse for what was done?”
“I feel remorse every day. Do you forget I was a child? Do you feel no remorse for your people making me watch as your people executed my only family.”
“It was what had to be done.” She replied, coldly staring you down.
“You are but a petulant child. Your callousness and arrogance will leave you without friend or affection, and I can not imagine what a lonely existence that will be for someone who does not die.” You stood up and pushed past her, walking fast to escape the eyes following you.
`
It was after Isildur took you to the grand library and to get dinner that you had learned of Halbrands fate from the whispers of locals as you walked past. You had enjoyed your time, feeling a true bond of friendship between the two of you. You were falling more and more in love with this island and hoped upon hope that you would be able to stay here. There was nothing for you at home. Orcs had burned down the only home you knew, but this seemed so far away from that. As if evil could not touch it.
Halbrand wasn’t evil, but he may be ruining your chances of being here with his antics. You had come to the realization that wherever you went, he was likely to follow. It was a strange sentiment to have in such a short time, but you knew you’d follow him too. No matter where his temper might land him. It was for this reason you had found some food and skin of wine and were down to the dungeons.
It seemed you weren’t the only visitor he had. You heard the elves' voice before you saw her and waited in the shadows, listening to the conversation unseen. Perhaps you shouldn’t but your curiosity got the better of you. A dispute about a woman? You could tell from the way he was speaking that it was about her.
Of course it was.
You wanted greatly to believe all that he had told you that morning, that he had shared something personal with you and that was a sign of how he trusted you but here he was so freely telling her of his past. The heir to the throne of the Southlands, how his ancestor was who swore a blood oath to Morgoth. All of those had been lacking from the story he had told you. You didn’t think him a liar, but you didn’t know what to think as it seemed he so easily opened himself up to the elf.
You heard as the elf mentioned fate bringing them together, of him going to Middle Earth with her, and he did not argue against any of it. If his intentions were truly with you, why then did he not make that known to her? You were able to see his expression as she ascended the stairs. He watched after her as if she was some grand prize with a twinkle to his eyes and a smirk playing at his lips. She was a prize, you supposed, she was an elf. Truly unattainable, with beauty that men merely dreamed of finding. She was mysterious and strong.
And what were you?
You had nothing to your name. Your only talent was in what your mother and the family kept you as a ward taught you - healing and gardening. You didn’t suppose you were all that beautiful. No one had attempted to court you. You were not mysterious or battle hardened or the daughter of a noble bloodline.
You were just you.
Of course, she would be the prize.
Quietly, you slipped from the shadows and made your way to where Halbrand stood. You saw his smile, and perhaps if you hadn’t been so caught in your insecurities you’d see how he looked at you as if you were the dawn itself. But his smile faded slightly when he saw your face.
“Sweet one?” His hands reached through the bars for your hand, which you simply pulled away from him. His brows furrowed in confusion.
“I brought this for you,” You slipped him the cloth full of bread, fish, fruits, and cheese along with the skin full of wine.
His eyes never left yours, sitting it all behind him on the bench as your eyes looked at the ground. “Will you not look at me? Are you upset about this? It was simply a…”
“Dispute about a woman,” you repeated his words back to him. You saw his expression shift. He knew you heard his conversation.
“Sweet one…” He started.
“I could find contentment in a friendship with you. That would be an honor,” Your words echoed what you were told mere hours before.
“Friendship?” He laughed softly in disbelief, looking at you as if you grew two heads, “I told you of my intentions, and I meant it.”
“I do not know if you did. I do not know if you know what it is you want. I do not want to fight in a competition with the elf when I know I would lose it.”
“What are you talking about?” He breathed the words out.
“I see how it is you look at her. I hear how you two talk. I am not stupid enough to think that you do not want for her as she does for you. In talks of what your future holds, you never mentioned me.”
He scoffed, “You are reading too much into it.”
“I do not think that I am.”
“Do not reduce this to mere friendship. Please, sweet one.” He looked at you as if his heart was breaking, his eyes frantically searching your face for an answer.
“I need to go,” you backed away from the cell.
His fingers reached for you, but you pulled away, “Please, sweet one, please do not go when I can not follow.”
You spoke no more words, turning on your heels and wiping at the hot tears that were spilling from your eyes. You ignored the desperate calls of your name as you ascended the stairs. The only thing you could see was the way his face lit up when he saw Galadriel.
#halbrand x reader#sauron x reader#halbrand x oc#sauron x oc#annatar x reader#annatar x oc#trop fanfiction#trop x reader#rings of power x reader#rings of power fanfiction#halbrand x galadriel#annatar x galadriel#sauron x galadriel#isildur x reader
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write a hamzah x reader pregnancy journey and cute moments and headcanons and how happy he is to have a daughter in the end!
Pregnancy journey headcanons!
a/n: this request is so cute omfg and hamzah is such a girl dad im so glad this was requested.
dad!hamzah x fem reader
──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ
⊹ When you told Hamzah you were pregnant, he was very shocked but he then got so excited to become a dad. He hugged you for minutes before letting you go “oh my god y/n this is crazy” he said before pulling you into a kiss.
⊹ You & Hamzah decide to surprise Mandy & Martin with a baby shirt saying “I ♡ my aunt and uncle” and they looked at you guys confused. “Are you guys fucking with us?” Mandy gasped in realization. Martin was so excited and he quickly hugged Hamzah. Mandy got up and sobbed into your arms.
⊹ Ever since the day Hamzah found out you were pregnant, he would not let you do anything yourself. “Hamzah i dont need help grabbing a plate” you say. He just wants this pregnancy to be as smooth as possible :(
⊹ Once your belly starts noticeably growing, he will not keep his hands off it. Every night before bed, he’ll put his head against your belly and say “goodnight baby, mommy and daddy are waiting for you”. This will never fail to make you smile it also just makes you love him more.
⊹ After finding out you’ll be having a baby girl, Hamzah is thrilled to become a girl dad because he knows he’ll be the best father to her. He even has girl names he keeps on his notes app!
⊹ Mandy & Martin will sometimes come over to gift you guys baby toys, dresses, and blankets for the baby. Kinda like how they gifted cat necessities to Hamzah.
⊹ Weird food cravings start happening and Hamzah had learned his lesson and it was to not make fun of your cravings. He did that once and you ended up in tears. You thought he found you disgusting it’s crazy how hormones can change people so quickly.
⊹ On days where you feel tired and sick, Hamzah always tried his best to make you feel better like showering you with kisses and compliments. After all, you are carrying his baby.
⊹ Days before giving birth, Hamzah is going crazy and he’s nervous, he’s acting like he’s the one giving birth.
⊹ As soon as you both hear your newborn’s cries, Hamzah kisses your forehead while holding back tears. He’s so proud of you and is so happy his daughter is here 😞
⊹ He is so freaking obsessed with her and he feels like his world is complete. And yes she did inherit her dad’s curls!!
⊹ Hamzah knows how tired you are after sleepless nights so he prepares milk for the baby, changes diapers, and even cleans the house while you and baby sleep. What an angel…
⊹ Sometimes you even catch him sleeping on the bed with the baby sleeping soundly on his chest and you will snap a pic every time!
⊹ Red & Blue are also great with the baby and find her relaxing to be around. They even get close to sniff her head hehe.
⊹ Months later when your daughter starts crawling, Hamzah is quite sad to see her grow, he swears she was just born 2 days ago….
⊹ One day you woke up from a nap finding that the house was oddly quiet. You walk into the living room, calling out Hamzah’s name but got no response. Your worry washes over when you hear laughter coming from the backyard. Sure enough, you found Hamzah playing with his daughter and Red & Blue. The sight was so beautiful, you didn’t wanna ruin the moment, so you end up watching from afar with the biggest smile on your face.
Yes i did get this idea from Lana Del Rey’s lyric from “how to disappear” - “i’ve got a kid and two cats in the yard” 😞
──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ
save me dad!hamzah save me please
#hamzahthefantastic#hamzah x y/n#hamzah fluff#hamzah and martin#slushy noobz#mandysiphone#4freakshow#hamzah x reader#lana del rey#hamzahsmut#hamzah imagines
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CONGRATULATIONS ON THE MILESTONE!!!
can i get a fluff # 38 with Quinn please?
Thank you for requesting <3 - Happy Halloween🎃
FLUFF #38 "This isn't what it looks like!"
📞 dialling…
It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. Halloween night was supposed to be some kick-ass night of partying and making memories to look back on, dressed up in embarrassing, funny or even incredible costumes but it just couldn’t turn out that way this year. It was just embarrassing, especially since it was an NHL Halloween party and she was spending a large portion of it draped over a toilet bowl in her bandit costume, retching up all the vodka cranberries Brock had somehow convinced her were a good idea.
Leant against the sink cabinet in his sheriff’s get-up, Quinn stroked her back soothingly, doing his best every now and then to brush any loose hairs away from her mouth, worry written all over his face. It wounded him, seeing her like that, but as she once said, ‘what goes down, sometimes must come back up.’ It wasn’t how he expected his Halloween to go, especially not his early years of being the captain.
When y/n took his hands with half-lidded eyes under the low colourful lights and started leading him out of the living room and towards the bathroom, he thought of the best, not-so-romantic but certainly enjoyable scenario a young couple could have at a party. Instead, she’d B-lined for the toilet, and he’d dropped to his knees and hands straight to her hair to keep it out of the way.
“‘Atta girl, I got you,” he softly reassured, tearing off pieces of toilet paper and handing it to her, “we’re not leaving until you’re empty, even if I have to stick my fingers down your throat.”
She groaned, wiping her mouth and discarding the tissue in the toilet, sitting back on her heels, ripping off another piece of toilet paper, and dabbing it under her eyes to catch the welled tears. Thank God for waterproof mascara. “That was one- maybe two times and it’s not like you haven’t chosen to put your fingers in my mouth before.”
“Different context though, very different context, pretty girl. Are you feeling better?” He chuckled, moving from his sitting position to a crouch, hands on his knees.
“Yeah, thank you, again. Please don’t let me out of your sight now, Brock can be a terrible influence when he’s had vodka.” Y/n nodded, standing up and straightening out her outfit, Quinn running his hand through his hair, his shirt slightly untucking itself from constant position changing every five minutes.
She took a glance in the mirror, screwing her face up at her smeared lipstick and used her finger to make herself look presentable at least. A fond smile spread across his lips, chest meeting her back as his thick arms wound around her waist firmly, nose burying itself into the crook of her neck and his eyelashes fluttered closed, relishing in the peace and quiet he had with her before venturing back out into the wild. Cherishing her floral perfume, the minutes when he could float on cloud nine without someone hooting and hollering in the back at him. Y/n leaned her head against his, letting his body melt like wax into hers and she smiled.
“Love you s’much, you know that, right?” he asked with a deep voice, muffled by her skin and clothes slightly.
Thumbs rubbing gently over his arms, the hairs and warm skin, she hummed, “I love you too, more than words can describe.”
For a minute the only sounds were the subdued music from the communal space and the buzz of the light, controlled breathing hot on her neck until he pulled away, placing his cowboy hat back on his head. She fussed around with her hair, attempting to make it less of a mess but messy enough to match her costume, Quinn’s love-sick puppy gaze watching her with adoration in his eyes, chest swelling with warmth.
It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way, and they’d never live it down. Quinn let y/n slip past before closing the door behind him innocently, only to look up to make direct eye contact with bright blue ones and Prince Charming from Shrek smirking directly at him, eyes occasionally jumping to y/n. They both froze, hearts suddenly hammering in their chests for no reason. At all. But Brock was ruthless when it came to teasing Quinn, watching the sweat shimmer on the captain’s neck and the words slipped out too fast before Quinn could think of a way to play it off honestly.
“It’s not what it looks like!”
It looked exactly what Brock thought it was; sweating, dishevelled hair, y/n’s missing lipstick, still slightly smeared under her lip, lovestruck eyes, untucked shirt. It was exactly how Quinn imagined his Halloween would go.
Brock’s smirk quirked into a grin like he’d struck gold, and he rubbed his beard, nodding cockily, like he was proud, “Huggy, you dog.”
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Happy Gortoween everybody. Thanks @gortash-week for all the food!
Sweet Thing
Modern AU verse Durgetash. Prompts: Costume party, sweet delights, the devil you know. CW implied feederism and coercion.
(This is basically fluff for me.)
“Come on. We’re going out.”
He’s drunk, because of course he is, though he’s not sweating enough yet to have moved onto anything harder. Manva moves to shut the door, but he catches it and moves past her before she has a chance.
“I’m not going anywhere. It’s late.”
“It’s bloody nine-thirty! What is it with your generation. You’re tucking yourself in with your teddies by nightfall.”
“I have a class at six tomorrow.”
“Christ. I didn’t think students got up for anything before ten.”
“A Pilates class, not a class-class.”
She’s already exhausted by his presence. Decked out head-to-toe in black, his hair pushed back and the only hint of colour an ugly pair of red-tipped boots that must have been some designer’s idea of a joke, he strides through the grey of the studio apartment like a fly across a fruit bowl.
“Come on,” he says again as he opens up the fridge and takes out one of her sparkling waters. “Get something black and slinky on and let’s pop out. I’ll have you back by midnight, promise.”
He walks back to her, slipping a hand over her waist, his thumb pushing past the fabric of her vest. There is a smile playing at the edge of his lips, and she knows why. He has already won, and they both know it.
He calls a cab and takes them into old soho, the backstreets of the city that heroically resist the lure of gentrification. They stop down an alley with one illuminated door with missing letters, and she follows him down a narrow staircase that leads to a tatty looking retro diner. There is a DJ feebly playing generic fifties music, and they are led by a lone waiter to the far corner of a tacky, tattered old red Formica booth. She had worried that she was underdressed; the only black clothes she had in her wardrobe was a two piece Lycra workout set, but as she shrugs off her coat she only thinks of how the plastic seats will stick to her arms.
“This can’t be what you’re all dressed up for,” she says as she fingers a sticky menu on the table.
“I’m going on,” he explains as he pulls out a cigarette. “Lady Jannath’s Costume Masquerade.”
She recalls seeing the photos when she was younger in Orin’s copies of Tatler. Wisteria Jannath and her daughters in couture garments that would have been just as welcome at the met ball.
“And where is your costume then?”
“Ah yes,” he replies, and pulls out a cheap pair of plastic horns from his inside pocket that he places on his head with a flourish.
She hates that it makes her laugh. “Hardly up to the dress code, is it?”
“Dress code is for people coming through the front to be papped,” he explains, lighting his cigarette and taking a long, measured pull. “I’m there for the real party. Oh, I almost forgot…”
He pulls out a tiny witches hat from the jacket, a delicate little hair clip that he reaches across to place on her head.
She flinches. “I don’t do Halloween.”
He scowls, pulling his cigarette from his mouth and flicking ash across the table. “Why not? Lighten up a little.”
“It’s not… for me. I don’t want to.”
“Come on. Don’t be such a little-”
“You can’t smoke indoors, Mr Gortash.”
A heavy, masculine, and above all exhausted voice pulls her out of their little bubble. She feels embarrassed as she looks up at the poor waiter, who is surely only doing his job and is sick of late-night nonsense like-
“Quite so,” Enver replies with a smile, and takes another quick puff before pulling out his wallet. “Bring me an Old Fashioned, two Ring-a-ding-ding burgers, and a milkshake. Chocolate, dear? Strawberry?”
He doesn’t even look at her as he pulls out a wedge of cash and folds it for the waiter. It must be at least three hundred.
“I don’t want anything,” she tells him.
He smiles at the waiter and puts the money in his hand before leaning back.
“Chocolate, I think. With all the toppings. Bring it over with the whiskey bottle and then leave us be, there’s a good chap.”
The food arrives and it is fine, nothing remarkable, with generous portions of fries and beef-bacon instead of pork. She looks around the room as Enver talks about his day, something about international markets that is impossible to follow as he tops up his glass, and notices that the room is full of suited men with women. Some look younger, others perhaps hired. All of them tucked away, just like she is, in dimly-lit booths.
“Why did we come here?” she asks him as she dips one of her fries in the melting ice cream. “We could have stayed at mine.”
“Maybe I wanted to treat you.”
“But not enough to take me to the party.”
“Would you have wanted to go?”
She considers it, just for a moment. The crowded space, the photographs. The feeling of hanging on his arm. “…No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“But why here?”
“It’s an old favourite. Now come on. You’ve barely touched your food.”
She looks down at the half-eaten burger and seemingly endless chips. She already knows how heavy her body will feel tomorrow on the reformer, how it will sit on her chest.
“I’m done.”
“Truly?” He moves closer to her, and runs his hand over her stomach openly as he leans into her neck. The feeling of shame lurches in her as she tries to pull away, but there is nowhere to go as she traps his hand in hers. “You don’t feel full at all,” he murmurs against her neck. “And there’s not much to hide behind, is there?”
“Enver-“
“Fine. If you’re sure.”
The hand on her stomach slips from her grasp, chasing up her skin as he leans in to kiss her. The kiss is hard, forceful, and she almost chokes on it as she pulls away.
“I want to go home,” she tells him, her hand reaching to try to find her coat as he laughs at her.
“Then go! Do you want to go back to the home that I pay for, the one I furnished and supply for you with only the ask of your company in return, or would you prefer to go back to your real home?”
He leans in and kisses her again, and she can feel her head swirl as if he has drugged her. She knows he has not, would not.
It wouldn’t be so fun for him if he had.
He pulls away, holding her by the back of her neck. “A girl your age should be out at a party, getting felt up in the corner by some quivering boy for a quick fumble in the dark,” he tells her. “Chasing little memories, gathering little discretions for the diary. But you’re not there. And you’re not at home. You’re here, with me, and you’re here because you like it. You like what I am.”
She breathes in the scent of him, takes in the feeling of his thumb moving down her collarbone and his other hand reaching down her thigh as everything dissolves but him. Smoke and ash, the silly plastic devil horns an unnecessary addition.
Perhaps it is better to stick with the devil you knew, after all.
#gortoween#enver gortash#durgetash#cw feederism#to be safe#I wrote this in an hour on my phone so. apologies#but I joined in!#this was NOT what I was planning to write this is NOT what I have to finish today
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trick or treat! TREAT AND RUI he can be my trea-- gets dragged out of the stage
Inspired by a @ghoulspaw headcanon!
"Your turn" you say, passing the microphone to Rui, a little bit breathless.
It was all Ed's idea. He had watched one of his favorite vtubers doing karaoke and immediately got the itch to do it as well. After a good amount of nagging, there was a karaoke machine propped on Rui's bar, occupying an obnoxious amount of space, but at least Ed had stopped whining.
"Oh no no." Rui shook his head, laughing "I don't sing, honey!"
You crossed your arms, staring at him in disbelief.
"I DO NOT believe you. Also I don't sing either and I just gave the performance of my life just now. You have to participate." You demanded.
Propped on a stool on the other side of the counter, Lyca agreed out loud.
"You gotta do it too! I can't stand Ed singing those awful songs anymore!"
Ed sighed dramatically, looking as pained as he did whenever he felt sick.
"Children these days can't properly appreciate the songs of old... but do sing, Rui. I need to rest my throat..." he coughed as if to make his point clearer.
Rui rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Come onnnn, Rui. Please?" You batted your eyelashes.
He sighed louder, but got up.
"Just because YOU are asking it, baby. I'm doing it for YOU." Rui said, pointing at you as he walked to the front of the tv screen.
"Wouldn't have it any other way!" You replied, grabbing a tamborine and smacking it loudly, just to prove him you were excited.
Once you heard the first seconds of the song Rui chose, however, you couldn't help but laugh out loud.
And he went all out as well, following the trendy choreography perfectly and having Lyca look at him in disgust every time he sent a little flying kiss on your way during the chorus.
Once the song ended, you hollered, smacking the tambourine loudly, while Rui bowed dramatically in front of you.
"Ruiiii, I'm your biggest fan! Your number one fan! Give me your autograph, please!" You said, wiggling your hands and arms in excitement as you pretended he was an idol.
Rui plopped down on your side, threading his fingers through his hair before giving you a wink.
"Of course, baby! I know you can't resist my charms." He made sure to put on his best host impression voice as he continued the joke.
You stared at him for a second, admiring the way the disco ball's lights reflected on his skin, the little beads of sweat on his forehead making him shine, flawless under red, green, blue and purple hues that spun all around the room.
His ruby-colored eyes were trained onto you, and you swore you could look at them for hours on end.
But you couldn't leave him hanging for an answer.
"Yes, I'm so sorry you're so cute, Rui. I can't resist you." You replied, voice a tad bit lower as you looked at him with a fond smile on your face.
Rui stared at you with wide eyes and gulped loudly, cheeks getting progressively redder.
Before he could come up with an answer, however, Lyca's voice boomed between the two of you, breaking the small moment.
"If you two aren't going to sing, then I will!" The werewolf said and you shot up to your feet, hurrying to stop him so you could find an easy song for him to sing (Lyca wasn't the best vocalist, but none of you would ever complain).
Rui, however, stood in place, face still flushed, as your words kept on making his heart race.
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Tell us about Dill and Alexander! I kinda picture them in my head as Kermit and that blue eagle Muppet but gay and gamer/greasy mechanic. Is that where you got the idea? Is sburb's frog fascination gonna play into the story of these boyos?
oh what's that? you want to be the captive audience for a lore dump about my very special guys? completely unprompted and with total investment in everything i might have to say? well well, don't mind if i do!
SO, Dill Croaker and Alexander Falcon are members of a now-defunct group called The Falconers. they are modeled after Star Fox (the team) from Star Fox (the video games). we haven't seen Alex on screen yet, but here's @girlpillz's rendering of Dill for B1 verse 1, where Lenore Lehart shows off her sick bouncy ball skills for Dana Straten to get the attention of Dill.
Alex being a blue falcon, i imagine he looks legally distinct from Falco Lombardi from Star Fox (the video games; the team) albeit less cocky and attitudinous.
there are technical reasons for The Falconers' existence. going into 3.2B, i knew i wanted a secondary supporting cast in the margins capable of handling dirtywork off-screen. for instance, they're decrypting and analyzing Lenore's stolen witch data so the main cast doesn't have to worry about it, leaving us more time to luxuriate in what we're actually here for: feelings.
Star Fox 64 is my favorite game, so when it came time to come up with that supporting cast, the possibilities of a knockoff Star Fox team immediately sold me on the idea (especially since this is the only story where i will ever reasonably be able to get away with such a blatant act of self-indulgence. you wouldn't believe it from looking, but i don't actually do a lot of indulging myself with Godfeels. i try very hard to never throw things in without serious calculation. The Falconers are pretty much the only thing i've introduced that came as an inorganic external mandate of my own selfish making, and even then i've worked very hard to integrate them naturally). as a broken up four-person crew, they mirror the Upsilons-- and so, them helping the Falconers reunite in order to find Alphi and Edie gives these guys some juice. their backstory is a shadow of the Upsilons', and a useful point of comparison as the narrative plugs along. i could've made a girl Star Fox team, but frankly Godfeels is just so women-centered, so female-focused, so tgirl-transfixed that i figured it was about time to throw the boylikers a bone.
The Falconers are balanced as a calculated twist on the Star Fox team. the most immediate difference is that here, Alexander Falcon fills the role of Fox McCloud. he's the charismatic team leader, a little surly (especially these days) but good at his job and deeply committed to the care of his team. Dill Croaker is, obviously, only about five runs through the dryer away from Slippy Toad, and fills the same role. my reason for this is that everyone is mean to Slippy and they're wrong. Slippy is a brilliant engineer and programmer, why do you expect him to be an ace fighter pilot too? that's YOUR job, hotshot! Nintendo themselves have been all over the map with Slippy in terms of characterization, pretty much never getting him quite as right as he felt in 64. so, yeah, Dill is my take on Slippy: a clueless gamer frog who plays with a lot of edgelords but is himself impervious to their venom. he never cusses because he's a good boy, and he respects women.
Dill and Alex have lived together on Crime Planet for a long time. are they fucking? no, i don't believe they are. Dill strikes me as something of an ace king, and anyway i don't think he's Alex's type. mostly they work together in the shop and hang out doing bro stuff. maybe Alex lifts weights while Dill plays shitty space MOBAs. but all this begs the question: who is Alex's type?
as of the B1 solo we've learned a little bit about the other two Falconers. first there is Erol [last name unknown], the oldest member of the crew who's likely analogous to Peppy Hare. which leaves us with Yolo Sionnach. a lot of information can be implied about him from this exchange:
yes, a lot of information indeed. but as much as i would love to enumerate the implications, i must hold my tongue. i mean, i would type it all out, but i can't, because i'm literally using my fingers to hold my tongue in place so that i can't say the spoilers out loud
anyway, i like the muppet comparison. that wasn't what i had in mind at all, but now i'm imagining the Falconers as the puppets Nintendo used to advertise Star Fox Zero and........ ohhhh scope creep you saucy temptress
youtube
the Slippy slander is rampant! and that's to say nothing of the ad where muppet versions of Satoru Iwata, Shigeru Miyamoto, and Reggie Fils-Aime slowly transform into Peppy, Fox, and Falco respectively.
i can't say that Sburb/the Universe Engine have much to do with The Falconers' story. they're not godtier, they don't know anything about the UE, they are literally just space mercenary furries. they come from the Lemurian Star System, trained at the Academy on Lemuria, and worked in the Lemurian Sky Corps until starting their own independent outfit as contractors (which i imagine is a fairly common career path in a region racked by interplanetary war and rampant espionage). age-wise, they're in their mid 30s.
thank you for this wonderful question. no one ever asks about the other guys, and i am always dying to talk about the other guys.
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i was possessed by an irresistible urge to draw the most babygirl old man robots out there. gay people stay winning
#this isnt an art blog but whatever. i do art sometimes. and i really like how these ones turned out#considering i had a little drinky before i drew it#transformers#mtmte#maccadam#dratchet#these two make me sick in the head. you have no idea#honestly for how much i like ratchet i never fucking draw the guy#i have a million drifts in my sketchbook but this was my second time ever drawing ratchet#hold on#art#traditional art#nice. thats it for the tags
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@soccerpunching you're genuinely one of the best people I've met here bc you like almost every media I like
Apropos fighting. Remember when Adora jumps on Catra at Prom. Just them rolling on the floor. I wanted to draw that but didn't get round to it. The scene had such an energy
#im so so glad you like those hah#but anyways catradora and feisaru are two v personal and important ships 2 me#would you believe me if I told you I've sorta felt like drawing them in suits again#a few weeks ago#both manspreading#the problem is my head is so full of ideas and i actually suck at drawing and am slow and so my brains fastness overwhelms me sometimes#oh also im sick AGAIN so efficiency goes put the window#i also have a song that i associate w the prom redraws in particular#if i do the manspreads ill bring it up#im a bit conflicted abt the prom redraws. i used to really like them#but theyre over a year old now and its showing#how my drawings looked back then doesn't really resonate w me but the dip stays iconic#BECAUSE#i didn't think about saru's n fei's bodies any different back then. but my brain has this thing#where it distorts my drawings and makes them look broader than they really are in my head? and#then i look at the drawings again after a month and it goes holy shit last time i looked you werent looking like stickmen#but im better than this now#my drawings cause me less eye cancer now#i wanna get that violet suit finally. have wanted it for years#also that one thing where saru gets manhandled. it originally had more blush#man im not rereading im going to sleep
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Demon trying to feed on my insecurities: "You're a bad driver"
Me: "Of course I am. I hate driving. Going 80 mph surrounded by tons of metal is nerve-wrecking. I try to do it as little as possible. Of course I'm bad at it"
Demon: "You're a bad writer"
Me: "Well that part's simply not true. I never claimed I was the greatest author of my generation, but when I put pen to paper I know what I want to communicate and I usually do it well. If someone isn't impressed with my work, that's unfortunate but they're entitled to their opinion"
Demon: "You're a bad leader"
Me: "Well I don't know about that! I mean there was that one time when... Ok look just because people don't see me as an authority figure doesn't mean... 😠 You know you can be a real asshole, demon!"
#joking aside the reason I suck at helping people is probably not dissimilar from why I'm bad at driving#the joke is “having good ideas which would work if people let you boss them around” and#“having enough charisma to persuade people to let you boss them around” are two different skills and I don't have nearly enough patience#for the latter#but no really it makes me deeply insecure seeing sycophants rally around the most transparently incompetent and self-interested POS people#and meanwhile I'm getting called shrill and presumptuous for pointing out that the left-wing is poorly organized and I could do it better#can we agree it's at least a little bit because I have aspergers and no penis?#like I realize what I'm doing is the political equivalent of “but I'm such a nice guy!” and I'm literally complaining that no one#respects ma authoritah#but just saying: maybe I wouldn't come off as such a petulant misanthrope#if I wasn't constantly being asked to fix problems that could have been avoided if everyone listened to me in the first place#“nobody likes an i-told-you-so” yeah that's why democracies keep falling to fascism cus you want someone pleasant over someone correct#at the same time sooner or later you have to look in the mirror#and I can count the group projects I've successfully headed on one hand; maybe it's me#if it was just that people don't listen to me than yeah this would just mean I have an ego#but there are plenty of women the left could be rallying around and it doesn't because of minor scandals and anarchist ideals#it's stupid and I'm becoming a tankie just because i'm sick of the idea#that political goals can be accomplished without a clear chain of commmand#i don't need to be the leader but WE NEED A LEADER#the hatian revolution succeeded because Toussaint Louverture organized random slave rioting into an actual army#and I just wish I had that kind of magic myself but I might already be too bitter#ftr this isn't in response to anything that happened recently I'm just still mad thinking about an anarchist group I tried to join#on facebook five years ago where I asked point blank what the marching orders were and got blocked for being “obviously a cop”#and the mod comes at me with “anarchists don't have leaders IDIOT”#yeah well you're the guys always saying you only oppose UNJUST hierarchies idiot!#excuse me for thinking you guys had a plan beyond perpetual infighting#not everyone asking blunt questions about the anarchist platform are feds you guys are just paranoid and ableist#and when you block people for asking what game plan is it really sounds like you just plain don't have one (which is depressing)#I don't care how many books there are about how anarchism is more than just “wanting a free-for-all”#if you attack anyone who tries to impose a hierarchy just to get shit done it really seems like that first impression of
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Sex scenes don't bother me as much as kiss scenes. When the characters are making out in a way that indicates it will lead to sex, I'd scream at the screen "Just take off your pants and start grinding under the covers already!" because I cannot watch them mash their mouths together for another second.
That being said, I'm not a huge fan of sex scenes because firstly—I can't take the movements seriously, and if there's sound effects, there's also a high chance of me laughing. Secondly, the squishiness of the human body is another thing I can't take seriously. When I first watched the Only Friends trailer, and I saw that scene where Sand thumbs Ray's tattoo, I thought it was a butt tattoo because of the way the skin bounced in slow-motion, but no, it's actually a hip tattoo; the human skin is just that springy on every part of the body. While everyone was going crazy because of the tattoo-touch, I'm laughing because the bounce was so pronounced.
Basically, kiss scenes ick me out while sex scenes are comedy.
omg that sounds like such a fun way to experience sex scenes tho!! i wish my reaction was more like that rather than convulsion. i'd much rather experience a comedy show tbh dfjkkdgj
also interesting point you bring up about the human body being so squishy. i never really thought about it but yeah. human bodies are just so weird?????? actually, only the other week i was talking with another friend (who's likely also ace-spec) about just how humans (and tbh even animals) will just have things dangling from them?? whether it be genitalia or boobs or whatever. like, those body parts are just... hanging there?? and technically even your arms but at least you can control those. meanwhile my boobs will just bounce depening on what movements i make and i can't control them and they're just hanging from my chest while i go about my life. like, why?? i want dog boobs where you mostly have just the nipples and they only really get big when i have an actual child to feed (i know human breasts also swell when they fill with milk during a pregnancy, but why do i have to have two balls of meat hanging from my chest even when i'm not pregnant?? who thought of this design??). coming back to your point of the human body being so squishy and actually yeah, i'm realizing now that i can't take it seriously when people talk about how hot boobs are precicely because boobs are so squishy and also so wobbly and just. how is this not funny to people? dkdfjdjfk
and lmao i remember everyone going crazy over the tattoo!!!!! i realized right away that it's on the hip but maybe that was bc i remembered the placement of it from the eclipse. which is also why that scene didn't make me laugh, i was actually too busy trying to read what it said bc in the eclipse we never got to see that tattoo up close enough in order to be able to read it. so while everyone was freaking out i was just sitting in my corner like "omg so the tattoo says 'beautiful'???" i'd been wondering about it for a year ever since the eclipse, so i was just excited to finally know what it says bc i'm a nosy ass bitch lmao
anyway, i love hearing about your experiences. it's so fascinating how varied the ace experience can be and how specific things affect everyone differently. and i think it's also cool to hear what things other ace people pick up/focus on while the allosexuals are busy drooling over whatever is happening on screen dkjkdkjg
the kissing... idk, i can't tell you why it doesn't actually bother me that much or why i might even enjoy it. although i do have to say, the act of kissing does look extremely weird. sometimes (usually during longer kiss/make-out scenes) i'll be sitting there and suddenly it'll hit me that "actually kissing looks SO strange, whose idea was it for kissing to be a thing??"
sometimes in my head the kissing just conjurs up the image of a fish opening and closing it's mouth, like so:
except, you know, kissing involves two people so in reality it's more like:
#i hope you don't mind that i'm publishing this on my blog again!#i'm just thinking it might be interesting for other people as well to read about our varied experiences#do let me know if you want me to go private (or just hop straight into my dms <3)#asks#actually a random memory popped into my head while i was writing this#remember how in my other reply i said kiss scenes sometimes bore me?#actually in the first and only relationship i've been in i actually would sometimes pretend to be asleep#(even though i struggle with sleeping and can fall asleep during the day ONLY when i'm sick or under a serious lack of sleep)#i pretended to be asleep to avoid my then-bf turning the cuddling session into a make-out session#bc making-out just bored me so much as an activity lmao#(it didn't necesserily bother me or gross me out but yeah i just thought it was insanely boring)#(i still went along with it the way you'd sit through your friend's fave movie even tho you personally find it super dull)#(bc i didn't have the heart to tell him i wasn't all that into it dkfjkdg)#(actually he once made a comment how ''the two of us couldn't go a day without kissing each other!!'' and out loud i agreed#but in my head i was like ''oh i EASILY could 🤭🤭🤭'')#(again i didn't say the truth bc he was a really sweet guy and i just didn't want him to feel upset at my lack of enthusiasm about him)#to this day i have no idea if the guy was the problem bc i didn't have strong enough feelings for it or if it was bc of my asexuality#i didn't know about asexuality back then but if i'd known i might have figured it out right then and there that i was ace lmao#(it took another 2 years until i got there)
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago.
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch.
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you.
“I wanna see Max.”
“She has to be here somewhere.”
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest.
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here.
Steve frowns at you worriedly.
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers.
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips.
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes.
“Is it awful?” you ask.
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult.
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask.
“Dustin. He’s outside.”
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.”
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes.
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?”
“Like you like him.”
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?”
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?”
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings.
“Looks like something. Are you dating?”
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.”
“He was touching you a lot.”
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely.
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh.
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s—
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder.
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug.
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly.
Oh, boy, you think.
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy.
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet.
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.”
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.”
“Steve.”
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.”
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty.
“What?” he asks.
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.”
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.”
“I sounded weird?”
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.”
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it.
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do.
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.”
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice.
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.”
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something.
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie?
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged.
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews.
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way.
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused.
“You were in the way of the light.”
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself.
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?”
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks.
“It’s good.”
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.”
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you.
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise!
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this.
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing.
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs.
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes.
“You okay?” he whispers.
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek.
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen.
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say.
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.”
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.”
“I thought…” And of course he did.
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.”
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.”
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes.
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious.
“Yeah.”
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.”
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.”
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.”
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks.
“I like you too!” he says loudly.
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?”
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again.
“You okay?” he asks tightly.
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?”
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.”
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?”
You nod vehemently.
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm.
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.”
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you.
“You can be my parasol.”
“Your what?”
“It’s a sun umbrella.”
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up.
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.”
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay.
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur.
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly.
“No… I’m thinking.”
“Nothing good ever comes of that.”
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth.
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight.
“It’s a question.”
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world.
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.”
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.”
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.”
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start.
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem.
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur.
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it.
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke.
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington drabble
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Honor Among Thieves
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Marrying Brooklyn’s most dangerous man was easy. Divorcing him proves to be a bit harder—particularly when you’re pregnant with his child.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (f!receiving). Breeding kink. Hurt/Comfort/We-Almost-Just-Died-Sex. Morning sickness. Manslaughter. Brief coerced kissing. Beefy, mob boss Bucky is a possessive expectant father who just wants to make sure he knocked you up properly
Descriptions of violence throughout
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”
Bucky’s words reverberated like a shotgun’s report, skimming across two dozen feet of marble, glass, and stainless steel before reaching your ears on the opposite end of the room. He was standing at the threshold of the kitchen, and your back was turned to him. Lucky thing, too, or else he would’ve seen the smile threatening to tug at both ends of your lips—effectively blowing your cover.
“Really, I don’t have the slightest idea, Barnes,” you told him, and it took everything in you not to laugh. Having just narrowly preserved your composure, you continued, “You keep me locked in this prison all day and expect me not to find ways to entertain myself? Well, this is all it is.”
Like hell it was, you could already hear in Bucky’s head. Feeling him eye you up and down from the archway, take his first steps into the room, loosen his tie, most likely.
“Prison?” You registered a low scoff, and his voice was already so much closer than it’d been five seconds ago.
Your husband was striding as quickly as his smooth, dark, tailored suit would allow, and he was undressing as he walked. You could hear the clothes coming off but pretended not to notice. Instead staring more intently at the crab bisque simmering on the stove before you, you licked the spoon you were holding and hummed a little.
“Yes,” you answered, simply, “Prison.”
Bucky was by your side in no time at all. Up close, he smelled like rosemary, oakmoss, and gunpowder.
“Well, this is news to me,” he said. He dragged out the middle syllables of his words longer than was necessary, likely to make his move sidling up closer to you. The last sound had scarcely died in his throat more than a second or two before you felt an arm loop around your back. A hand coming to rest on your hip, then his voice, again:
“See, I never knew they built ‘prisons’ up in first-class penthouse apartments in Brooklyn. Must be pretty nice.”
Bucky stepped behind you, and you were half-certain the black suit jacket he’d come home wearing was fully removed. Again, you pretended not to see, or care.
“It’s a metaphor, James.” But your voice wavered.
“A metaphor?” Bucky’s head sank into the soft groove between your neck and your shoulder, and he kissed it.
“Yes.”
Your mouth made a sound more akin to a breath than a real, enunciated word, and you knew Bucky felt it too. He sensed this headstrong, no-bullshit façade of yours was sure to come crumbling apart any second, and each new brush of his hands and lips would be making it happen. Knowing this, he wasn’t in a rush to get the rest of his clothes off. He did, however, start to toy with yours.
“Tell me more. Am I really holding you hostage, doll?”
You took a ladle and started to stir, trying to stay cool. Meanwhile, your husband tugged gently on your dress.
“Hostage, housewife, same thing,” you muttered, low.
For once, it was Bucky’s turn to break character, as he laughed. It was short-lived and sweet, and he pressed another kiss to the skin of your neck, as if in apology.
“Right, right. I forgot. You were forced to marry me.”
“Right,” you shook your head, just slightly emboldened by the way you’d made him crack, if only for a moment, “I’m forced to marry you, move into this horrific little shanty in Brooklyn”—gesturing to the multi-million dollar apartment surrounding you both—“and then you leave me here, all by myself, with nothing to do while you go play Godfather with your mobster friends. It’s not fair.”
By the tail end of that last sentence, you and Bucky both were already grinning a little, coming to terms with just how ridiculous it sounded when you phrased it like that. Still, your husband seemed game to keep the bit going.
“Now that’s just not true,” he said, tone all faux offense.
You felt the soft snap of a ribbon coming undone, and in a second realized it was the satin bow holding the back of your dress together. The fabric loosened, and Bucky’s hands slid down your sides, over your front—of course.
“I didn’t leave you ‘by yourself’ at all, doll,” he said, and suddenly, his palms were fanning out, over something, “Gave you this baby to keep you company, didn’t I?”
The ‘something’ he was touching now was your belly. All soft and smooth and protruding out in a perfect little globe beneath your dress, no bigger than when he’d left for work that morning. Bucky treated the bump like it was a novelty all the same—like he was seeing it for the first time and couldn’t believe he was actually the one responsible for making it get like that. It had gotten to be a hobby of his, nearly, just how much he loved watching it grow. He had his fingers splayed out across your tummy virtually every chance he could get, and that didn’t stop whether you were out in public or sharing a moment in the comfort of home; he couldn’t get enough.
Which was why Bucky was right when he’d said you knew exactly what you were doing when he came home that day. You knew just the kind of effect that wearing a tight, white dress while cooking dinner would have on him, and you hoped it would rile him up just like this: with his hands roaming over every inch of your body, making soft, sweet circles along the swell of your belly, and kissing your neck again and again. Biting some, too. Getting so worked up he was all but gnawing at the skin as he drank in your scent and got lost to pure instinct.
If it wasn’t clear that Bucky had had a breeding kink before, you saw it written plain as day across his face every morning and night since he’d first learned you were pregnant. Like all the life force within him was just a byproduct of the knowledge that you were his—and this baby, growing bigger each day, was a mix of you both.
You hated to say it, but fatherhood suited your assassin-trained, mob-heading, bloodlusting husband better than anyone could have predicted in a million years or more.
Presently, Bucky flipped you around and sank to his knees. He slid you over to the counterspace area, away from the stove, and made sure to flip each knob to ‘off’ to make sure there wasn’t a chance you’d get burned. You cast one last look at the crab bisque and knew at once your hard work would have to be put on the back burner for now, because Bucky wasn’t hungry for that.
Still, you kicked a foot in soft, muted protest when you felt him slide his hands up your legs, under your dress, and start to reach for your panties. You let out a breath.
“I spent two hours perfecting the seasoning on that, Barnes,” you chided him, gently and without much admonition in your voice as you pointed to the soup, “You say you want a good little housewife but won’t even leave me un-fucked long enough to try any food I make!”
“And I’m very sorry about that, Mrs. Barnes,” Bucky replied, head disappearing beneath your skirt so he could take your underwear off with his teeth instead.
But, much like your reproach, your husband’s strained apology held less than half of its professed sincerity. Your blue cotton panties were discarded in a second, your hips pushed back against the cool white marble behind it, and Bucky, almost too cheekily, brought his head back up from underneath your dress just to steal a quick look at your belly, then up at you. He was smiling.
“Anything you make tastes amazing, honey. Daddy just needs to eat a little something beforehand, that okay?”
He already knew what you’d say. The sweet, shit-eating grin hovering over your lower half knew all that and more. Bucky just loved to tease, taking the hem of your dress between his index and thumb, and rubbing all the more tenderly, murmuring again, ‘That alright with you, pretty girl?’ and ‘My wife likes getting tonguefucked in the kitchen, doesn’t she?’ while his breaths spread over you.
You nodded that you did. Momentarily forgetting the three-course meal you’d had planned for him since early that morning, you let your knees fall limply apart from one another, and Bucky’s broad form filled the space in between. The fabric of your dress was snug, especially so over your belly. Your husband pushed the material up your hips and let it rest just high enough to expose your warmth to him. Angling your hips back the slightest bit, trailing his fingers up your thighs and inside them, gently, Bucky let out a low groan against your body, and you could feel the vibrations of it travel up your spine.
“I really am mean for keeping you here all day, aren’t I?” he teased, sliding the tips of his fingers between your glistening folds and watching you jolt in response.
“So— so mean. Bucky, please.”
Your voice was far more hoarse than circumstances would seem to beget; your husband had just eaten you out that morning. Nevertheless, your hand was trembling as it reached for his head. Your pull was taut and dire. While your fingers threaded in through his hair and your body opened itself more and more for him, you could feel that kind smile, even if you couldn’t see it. Frankly, the swelling of eight-and-a-half months made it difficult to see much of anything below the waist, but Bucky made sure to let you know he was there. By holding your hand, skimming his lips against your skin, starting, just then, to sink his fingers in toward the heat of your body, and softly pulling his face away so he could look up at you.
“Baby?” he breathed.
Your eyes locked with his as he slid two fingers inside you. The stretch alone was enough to put your brain on the fritz, but, fighting the first shockwaves of pleasure:
“Y-Yeah?”
He withdrew. Pressed them back in and let out a grunt.
“I need you to do something for me.”
You couldn’t fathom what that might be, but you nodded anyway. ‘Anything’ was what you managed to choke out.
“And you might not like it, doll.”
Your eyes widened some.
“O— O-Okay, what?”
Bucky’s fingers curled inside you, and a short, sharp streak of dizzying pleasure pulsed through your body. Your knees felt weak, and your mind even worse, but with what little resolve you had left, you were able to keep your eyes entirely open and fastened to his. A look that struck you as almost bittersweet crossed your husband’s features, and you saw his gaze soften again.
“I need you to wake up,” he said, calmly.
“What?”
Your toes curled tight underneath you, and the warmth between your legs leapt up to over a thousand degrees.
“Melaya, I need you to wake up.”
At the same time, your blood ran cold in your veins. Surely, you couldn’t be hearing him right if the voice he used was so gruff and low—and laden with a Russian lilt.
“Bucky? What— What do you mean?”
But you knew. Or suspected something of it anyway.
Now the sound from your own throat was hardly one that you recognized as yours, so shrill and high and strange—what could he mean by that? Why was he watching you in that way? Your husband wasn’t smiling so brightly anymore, and the once-gratifying conflagration between your legs had grown to an almost scorching degree, no longer nice, generous, or pleasurable in the slightest.
“We need you to wake up now, honey. Right now.”
His tone, too, was distorted. Grating.
“Bucky, I-I don’t underst—”
“WAKE UP!”
“WAKE UP!”
Natasha shook you hard, and it hurt.
She didn’t mean for it to. She just needed you up and out of bed, and you’d been asleep for almost fourteen hours.
You started at the fifth or sixth shake, nearly punching yourself in the face when you tried yanking a set of covers up and over your head and discovered, shortly, that there was none. You were splayed out on a bed in an as-yet unfamiliar home—Steve’s new place—and, while you slept, you’d kicked all of the blankets you’d been given the night before off your body and onto the floor.
Your eyes were wide as saucers as they darted to Nat’s.
There was no need to say what had happened—she knew these dreams were getting worse by the day.
It’d been a week since you fled your Brooklyn apartment in an all-out terror. A week since a senseless, short-sighted idea on your part had led to the discovery that your husband was once part of a HYDRA sleeper cell whose activation phrase turned him into an agent of total destruction at will. A week since you’d seen a half dozen bodies litter your living room floor, more still being bludgeoned by the so-called ‘Winter Soldier,’ as Bucky had formerly been known. A week since you’d sobbed in Natasha’s arms and begged her not to let you go back. A week since you’d been obliged to hide out in Steve Rogers’ new bachelor pad upstate, because, frankly, there was nowhere else you could safely live until this whole ordeal with Bucky was settled—if it ever would be.
A full week since you’d learned you were pregnant, too.
As far as you knew, your husband was wholly unaware of this fact, and of Steve’s most recent real estate purchase up in Buffalo, and you’d been existing in a semi-serene and largely dissociated state for the past seven days.
Your gaze adjusted to the light, and you blinked up at Nat, feeling damp in just about every place on your body. You looked down and found yourself drenched in sweat.
“Hydrate. Please.”
It wasn’t so much a request as it was a standing order: Nat holding out a glass of water and instructing you to drink. Though your first instinct was to make a face and shake your head—you’d found that any new fluids in your body this early in the morning would only get thrown back up when you made your first frantic trip to the toilet—you accepted it anyway. You drank three big gulps to appease the woman standing next to the bed, then wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and smiled
“I’m gonna go puke now,” you said.
“Aim for inside the toilet bowl if you can,” Steve called out from the doorway. By the look on his face, you’d been doing a pretty shit job of aiming vomit lately.
“My bad, Rogers.”
You had a hand on your stomach, slowly easing back up into a seated position, when you heard something being flung across the room, followed by a ‘HEY!’ and a crash.
“Your aim sucks, too, Romanoff,” Steve griped, loudly, “And I was kidding. She can puke wherever she wants.”
By the door, a hefty hardcover book lay open on the floor. Apparently Nat’s options for projectiles had been limited.
“All good, Rogers,” you offered anyway. Fighting a smirk.
You were starting to stand, and your head felt as if you’d just taken your first steps off a rocking boat. Your other hand jumped to your mouth, and you muttered, ‘Fuck’ before brushing past Nat and her outstretched arms.
She held your hair while Steve retrieved the glass of water, as well as a towel. The unsightly first trimester ritual proceeded as it had for all of the last week, with Nat rubbing circles in your back and Steve making well-meaning but completely useless live commentary like, ‘Babies are a real pain in the ass, aren’t they?’ At the conclusion of each new stupid remark, Natasha would shoot a dirty look his way, but you never let her shoo him away. Through no conscious choice of your own, Steve had become something of a comfort blanket over the course of the past chaotic days. At the very least, you two were no longer at each other’s throats flinging accusations and exorbitantly-priced tumblers in the other’s direction, which was a marked improvement from where you were the day after you and Bucky’s wedding.
At length, you lifted your head from the toilet, and he daubed at your cheek with the towel—mostly just trying to wipe off spit and your own queasy-looking expression. He succeeded in clearing away just the former, but you forced a smile all the same, then shared it with Natasha.
Nat couldn’t smile back. In fact, the grimace on her face only etched even deeper, and her forehead creased.
“This is a horrible time to be asking you this, I know—”
“Nat, please.” Steve groaned.
Nat, what? There wasn’t a lot more that could catch you off guard after all the shit you’d come to see that week. Still, Nat’s breaths were both measured and slow, and you could see she was chewing on the inside of her cheek like she wasn’t quite sure how best to phrase her words. This, coming from one of the most astute legal minds this side of the Hudson River, gave you pause.
“Ask anything. I’m pretty numb, if you haven’t noticed.” You rapped on the side of your head for comedic effect, but neither Natasha nor Steve laughed or cracked a grin.
“How do you feel about filing for divorce tomorrow?”
At the sound of Nat’s words, you felt the bile jump back up your throat. You knew there wasn’t enough food or fluid to make much of anything now, but all the same, you craned your neck back over the toilet and retched. When nothing came out, as expected, you turned back.
“What?”
Natasha looked a little ill herself, but still, she continued.
“How do you feel about just…fast-tracking a divorce from him and taking off new? We’ll talk assets later.”
Assets? Fast-track? Divorce? What the fuck?
“What the fuck, Nat?” you repeated as much out loud.
It normally wasn’t your thing to be so blunt with her, but the inquiry certainly seemed to invite some extra candor. You swiped at your mouth for any excess spit that might’ve trickled out, crudely, and in a second, Steve was handing you the towel. Then helping you to your feet, holding your arm and lower back in a grip you could feel was secure. You were unsteady on your legs, so he and Natasha guided you over to the sink, where you could regain your bearings and freshen up a bit. Sneaking a look at your reflection in the mirror was a bad idea; your face was sallow, and the rest of your body had every appearance of being horribly weak, for lack of a better word. You caught a glimpse of a gash sitting just above your left temple and immediately looked away. Stupidly, you hoped Steve and Nat hadn’t seen it.
“He did that to you,” Nat said without missing a beat.
You winced, and you washed your hands, not looking up.
“I thought you said it wasn’t him. Soldat, you told me.” And for a second, your eyes flickered to Steve, whose expression was a touch more sympathetic, if not visibly discomfited now. Like he didn’t want to speak for once.
He did, anyway: “Doesn’t matter if it was Winter or him, really. Point is he hurt you while trying to protect y—”
“And yet, you asked me to forgive him just last week for killing my dad in the same type of rage,” you replied, and instantly regretted the accusatory tone you’d taken on.
Your anger was misdirected at Steve. It wasn’t his fault for sharing the truth about your husband’s—his best friend’s—past when you’d asked him. These were queries you’d made, helping to form justifications for your own decision to stay after what had happened in Madripoor. Obviously, Steve would be biased to help support his friend in a time of need. But now things were different; Bucky had never been activated as soldat and ended up hurting someone he’d loved before. Steve was free to change his mind after seeing that happen and urge you to leave, or at least reconsider, your marriage to Bucky.
The second look you gave him attempted to convey as much, a bit more apologetic as he and Natasha led the way out of the bathroom. Steve smiled and held your arm again, though you probably didn’t need it. You walked downstairs to the kitchen together. Over by the toaster, Sam was inspecting a charred bagel with a scowl
“Rogers, you really need to ditch this shit,” he said, gesturing to the rusted metal contraption that appeared to be from 1918, and had just burnt two bagels to a crisp.
“It was a gift from a friend, piss off,” Steve replied, grinning a little. Reaching for the blackened bread roll and even going so far as to take a bite, crunching loudly.
“Did your friend happen to fight in World War II?” Nat asked. She lent one look to the archaic machine but said nothing further, opting instead to take a seat at the kitchen table, where a sea of papers was strewn about.
Then, to you, “Come. Sit.”
Somewhere in your tentative stroll from where you stood to where she sat, and in the middle of the men’s toaster bickering, Sam called out that he’d have bacon and eggs ready in a second. Steve offered up his singed sesame bagel in the interim, and you told him no thanks. With a still slightly throbbing skull and a nauseous gait, you took the chair next to Nat’s and looked down at her papers.
Honestly, you thought your present condition might warrant some leeway when it came to holding off on the heavy-hitting topics first thing, but, to your surprise, Natasha slid a crisp white packet over almost instantly.
“Nat, what the fuck?” you groaned for the second time.
“Read it. Give it a second to digest, then we can—”
“No!” you cut in, pushing the packet back to her with a little more force than you’d meant, “I-I can’t. Not now.”
On the very first page, in bold and capitalized typeface, there was printed a brief string of words you’d never wanted—or thought you would ever need—to see:
‘VERIFIED COMPLAINT: ACTION FOR DIVORCE’
“It’s just the petition. No harm in taking a look,” Nat said.
You could hear a faintly gentler tone in her voice, even as you shook your head and looked away from the papers.
“I don’t want to. I can’t do this right now.” You kept shaking your head for a couple seconds after, turning your gaze instead to the bay window of Steve’s kitchen.
A nice, sprawling yard stretched as far as you could see. In the distance, a fuzzy white horizon was punctuated the slightest bit by the outline of a wood fence, but apart from that, the land was empty. The lot was secluded. Happy and effervescent in a nearly cloudless sky, the midmorning sun cast its rays without so much as the threat of a storm’s hinderance. You fixed your eyes on the clear expanse above and silently wished it would rain.
Before more than a minute or two had passed like that, Sam was approaching the table with two platters. Steve balanced four more by himself, watching the sway of one plate of scrambled eggs in his arms with a wary look before setting each one of the dishes on the table.
“Bon appétit,” Steve said, butchering his French just about as badly as Sam had the bagels. You and Nat thanked them both anyway and started clearing off the table, pushing papers away in favor of steaming plates. Sam and Steve sat down, and all of you began to eat.
While you dutifully piled on each scoop of eggs, bacon, sausage links, biscuits, gravy, and grits—far more than you knew you could feasibly consume—you wished again for a rainstorm, and maybe a quiet breakfast. One that wasn’t marred by talks of legal separation and lengthy battles in court, if you could help it at all. To this end, and perhaps against your body’s best interest, you shoveled two supersized spoonfuls of egg in your mouth, so that if Nat tried reviving those subjects again, you could put off the conversation by simply continuing to chew. You felt your stomach turn inside you but, stubbornly, ate more.
You had just swallowed it all, about to make way for a warm, flaky buttermilk biscuit, when a sound cut in, and your belly flipped again. Your teeth had barely sunk into the bread a second when Nat set her own food aside, then used two fingers to push something toward you.
“Just skim it. Let me explain what the process can be,” she said, tapping her index on the first line and meeting your eyes as if to plead. She had to have known she’d be met with resistance—from you, of course, but also Steve. She raised a defensive hand to him before he even cut in:
“Come the fuck on, Nat. Will you give her a break?”
“I’m saying this for her sake! I’m doing it for her.”
“And throwing divorce papers in her face over breakfast is really the best way of going about it? Is that for her?”
Sam swallowed whatever he’d been chewing on, glanced down at the top paper, and seemed to brace himself.
“Guys, is now really the right time—” he started.
“That’s what I’m saying!” Steve barked over him.
Natasha ignored the plainly disdainful look from the latter, lifted her hand off the paperwork and instead trained her gaze solely on you. Just like she had in Zurich. Focusing intently on your face, ignoring whatever Steve or Sam were saying in the moment, she turned to you and found your expression was stale. Unmoving. Frankly, half of what was running through your mind right then was how badly you wanted to puke again. As if the eggs had turned rotten in your gut the second they reached their destination in your GI tract, you felt a heavy, oppressive fog of nausea taking shape between your ears, and you just wanted everyone to stop talking.
Sam and Steve continued on without a hitch, agreeing vaguely but also appearing to bicker over other things, like when was the most appropriate time to have this conversation. Natasha was leaning in, reaching for your hand this time, and you knew she meant well. You would bet any large sum of money there wasn’t a malicious bone in her body, and she was doing this for your benefit. All the same, you were grateful when the front door swung back on its hinges, and a new person walked in. Nat, Sam, and Steve all suspended their conversations.
“Hey, wh—” the blissfully unaware, semi-stranger began.
“Sharon!” Steve cried, “Would you tell Romanoff she’s being a goddamn pest with no sense of boundaries?”
Sharon halted at the threshold of the house, skating a look between Nat and Steve at first, then Steve and Sam, then just at you. The look didn’t linger for long, and before you knew it, she was setting down a fistful of grocery bags and twisting her mouth into a frown.
“Will you shut up, Steve?” was her only response.
Sam rose from his chair and pointed as if to say, ‘Yeah, that’ before joining her in the foyer to help carry in the Wegmans bags. Natasha leaned back in her chair with a vaguely pleased look, and Steve just rolled his eyes. He slapped his palm overtop the stack of divorce papers still laying before you and, seemingly undeterred, continued,
“Do you think it’s fair for her to force divorce papers on this poor soul—” pointing to you, the poor soul, apparently, “—when it’s been a week since she left?”
Sharon started handing off the frozen stuff first, sliding a box of Stouffer’s across the counter to Sam, who then deposited it in the freezer. These exchanges took place in relatively quick succession, with Sharon only chancing a look toward the kitchen table once or twice as they did.
“I think she should do whatever the hell she wants,” she said, “And I think their divorce is none of our business.”
Fair enough take. One that you could respect, at the very least, even if you weren’t certain she particularly cared for you at all. You reckoned she had no reason to, and on the whole, appeared to be a pretty reserved person.
You wanted to add a word in her defense, reiterate to Steve that he didn’t have to go to bat for you, the poor, defenseless soul, right now. Instead of being able to speak, though, you felt an upsurge of something heavy in your throat. You clamped a hand to your mouth again, cheeks flushing with the heady sensation and also out of embarrassment, then pushed your chair back and stood.
“I— gotta—” you stammered, just audible to the table, through the wall your fingers had made over your lips.
You sprinted up the stairs without another word.
The first trimester ritual repeated, and ten minutes later, you re-emerged from the bathroom feeling two big spoonfuls of scrambled eggs lighter and still none the happier, healthier, or wiser. You took a peek in the full-length mirror at the other end of the room and discerned from a distance of ten feet that you looked like dogshit.
You flopped down on the bed face-first, heedless of the pool of sweat that still encompassed roughly half of it, and let out a weak, muffled breath into the sheets. Someone had been gracious enough to replace all the blankets and pillows you’d kicked off last night. When you heard a knock on the door, it sounded a lot like Nat’s.
You rolled to the side, eyes screwed shut in frustration.
“If you’ve come to tell me my marriage is a fucking dumpsterfire, I agree completely, Natasha. I’m dumb.”
A little huff of a half-laugh sounded from the doorway. You opened your eyes and saw Sharon standing there.
Up close, she looked a little paler than you’d remembered seeing her last in Switzerland. Soft beads of perspiration dotted her neckline from what had likely been a hot and arduous journey walking up the driveway with all the food, and presently, she seemed tired. She wore a simple gingham blouse that had her eyes shining with vibrance, though, and both hands, you noticed, were full—she had a mug in one and a spoon in the other. She smiled kindly.
“The mob tends to have that effect,” she said, strolling in. Setting the mug on the nightstand and easing the spoon into it, stirring, “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
You had no idea what all she knew about your marriage. You weren’t so sure you could extricate yourself from all the blame of having the thing go up in flames in four short weeks. Nevertheless, you smiled back and offered up something good-humored in return, like, well, I’m not exactly winning wife of the fucking year anytime soon.
Again, Sharon chuckled. It was small. She leaned back against the nearest armchair and, pointing to the cup she’d left to rest on the nightstand, said in a soft voice,
“Give that a minute. It’s hot.”
You glanced over and saw a little string that you guessed was attached to a teabag sitting at the bottom of the mug. The drink smelled like chamomile, maybe. You sat up, readjusted your pyjama top, then slid your socked feet underneath you so you could scoot closer to the edge of the bed. On a deeper inhale, you decided the tea was definitely chamomile. And too hot, as Sharon said.
“Thank you,” you told her.
“It’s not poisoned, I promise,” she replied. Letting out that funny little chuckle of hers—one too low to be considered a full laugh, but very close—and then, seeming to realize what she said might’ve sounded off, “Like— I heard what happened with Schröder. Him trying to drug you after the wedding and all…that. I— I’m sorry.”
Bad time to be making jokes, she appeared to chastise herself, but you just nodded along with the faintest grin.
“It’s OK. I’d pay money to be knocked the fuck out now.”
You grinned bigger, and she smiled too.
“It should make you sleepier, if you wanted to nap.”
You replied that you would, in fact, love to be unconscious right now if it meant not having to put up with all this bullshit morning sickness, and you slowly reached for the mug. Sharon stood up, and while you took your first sips, she fluffed the pillows behind you.
She was right. The tea felt like a hug. You settled under the covers and brought the cup to your lips once more, taking two big draughts before setting the drink aside. Yeah, that shit’ll put you right out, no drugs needed. You sank even further under the sheets and watched Sharon hover between the bed and the doorway, looking around as if trying to find something to do—some way to make herself feel more useful, if you had to guess from the pensive look in her eyes. Finally, she settled closer to the door and gave you one, fairly sanguine look. The warmth of your drink had already begun to nestle inside your weary bones, and your eyelids felt heavier. Still, you tried to return the sunny look before getting fully settled.
“Thanks again, Sharon. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, of course.”
She started to leave. In fact, she’d already made it three-fourths out of the room when something stopped her in her tracks. She turned back to you, and you looked up.
“This…probably doesn’t mean a whole lot coming from me, but—whatever you decide to do with Bucky…is okay. We’ll support you, whether you choose to raise this baby with him or do…whatever it is you want to do. Don’t let Nat or Steve or Sam or anybody tell you differently. It’s your choice, y’know, whether you wanna stay married…”
Sharon trailed off, and somewhere inside, you could tell she meant to finish with words like, ‘…even if you didn’t get to make the choice to get married in the first place.’ You appreciated it. You beamed with just your head poking out from over the covers and thanked her again.
And, before she left, for the second time, she stopped. She walked over to the nightstand and bent slightly at the waist, just enough to set something small down. You turned to the side and saw a vial—a minuscule tube—on the surface. Your eyes widened, realizing what it was.
“Sam picked it up in Madripoor. He said Steve had given this to you…to, uh, give to Schröder, and I thought you should have it back,” she said, pausing, “Just in case.”
You eyed the little vial of poison on the nightstand and nodded, still not completely understanding. Your head throbbed, your stomach was still turning, churning. Your brain was about ten blinks away from logging off entirely and drifting to sleep. All you could do, then, was repeat what Sharon had said as you exchanged one final look.
“Just in case.”
Your eyes closed, and you fell asleep very soon after.
You couldn’t have been out for more than an hour; you were sure of it. However, the next time you glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, you saw it read 11:04.
P.M.
Shit.
SHIT.
That chamomille tea was no fucking joke.
Just as your thoughts drifted back to Sharon, the conversation you’d shared, the drink she’d given you, the poison she’d left behind for you to keep, you heard her voice all over again—and now, not just in your own head.
Presently, she was standing over your bed again, though the room was much darker this time around. She pressed a finger to her lips, hey, please, please, be quiet, alright? At first you wanted to make a sharp and strangled sound. A cry for help? You weren’t sure. Didn’t know. Couldn’t see very much of the woman at all, except for the outline of her face from the moonlight streaming in through the window. She stared and ‘shh’ed’ some more.
And you were contemplating yelling out a loud obscenity in response to it when next she cut in, markedly gentler:
“Keep it quick. Nat and the guys will be back in thirty.”
You blinked hard into the darkness and waited for your vision, or else your still-missing voice, to return. It didn’t. You just stared back, eyelids going up and down and up and down like a goddamn idiot gone sluggish off one too many Quaaludes, and it was several seconds more before she gestured behind her, into the shadows.
You tensed under the covers, chock-full of terror. You squinted, and shrank, and might’ve nearly pissed yourself were it not for the intervening force of a face.
A familiar face.
Bucky’s face.
You leapt up from the bed, displacing each one of Sharon’s cool and careful warnings from your mind all at once. You didn’t mean to, and as soon as she’d shushed you again, you shut your mouth. Fell still. Sharon slipped out of the room, reminding you both, again, that you had to be quiet, and you had to be quick. Then it was just you and Bucky. Silence and slightly less than five feet of space between you two. Then, shortly, no space to spare at all, as you ran to meet each for a hug a second later.
Your head struck his chest, and it was hard. That, alongside the python’s squeeze he wrapped around your body, hugging you to him in the tightest embrace imaginable, had your mind reeling, skull pulsing just a bit. You pulled back and stood smiling up at Bucky, whose eyes were wide, drinking the sight of you in.
‘Are you hurt?’ were his first words.
You shook your head that you weren’t, still unable to talk.
“Why are you— Who— who brought you— I didn’t—”
It seemed Bucky was equally hard-pressed to form a sentence himself, while his eyes were roaming wildly, all over you. Looking for bumps or bruises or cuts, whatever the wound might have been. He stumbled to the lamp and flicked it on. You tilted your head left, reflexively.
“I’m fine, Bucky,” you said. Sudden and swift, “I’m good.”
But you didn’t move your head too far to the right, either, for fear he might see the cut above your temple—the one soldat had caused when he’d pushed you to the floor, trying to protect you from a threat he couldn’t see.
As it was, your husband seemed to be too much in shock to see anything else apart from what stood immediately in front of him. He hugged you again. He kissed the crown of your head. He constricted your body so tight in his arms you felt a pressure start to build behind your eyes, and suddenly you weren’t so much pulling away as you were wrenching your body from him. When you met Bucky’s gaze again, the sweet blue irises were glossy.
“Nat wouldn’t say where you were, just that you were safe and needed to be…be alone for a while, but I—” He stopped, and it was as if he couldn’t even finish with the words, because his breath was stuck in his throat and his eyes were stinging too much. He looked down, briefly.
You wanted to reach for his hand but hesitated. He took yours a second later, holding extra tight as he continued:
“I thought I’d— thought you might’ve…left. I don’t know. I hadn’t been able to sleep, and then she— Sharon, she called me tonight, said you were here, so— so—”
You felt a pang of guilt holding his gaze, seeing how all the hurt that had come to accumulate behind those eyes over the last week went spilling, at length, into emotions he was either too overcome or sleep-deprived to express. The weight of this suffocated him, made him extra quick to speak his mind but slow to make sense of just about anything that was coming out of his mouth. He stopped, sucked in a breath, then pinched your hand in his, and you didn’t know what to do. You had no idea what to say.
“I was scared, Bucky.”
It sounded pathetic coming out of your mouth. Your husband nodded as though you’d just said the most profound thing in the world. His knuckles went white from just how hard he was gripping your hand, his head bobbed along in agreement, and for a moment, you winced to think that he might hug you again. Instead, the fingers tangled between yours just made a tighter knot.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said.
“You scared me,” you added, voice wavering.
Your left hand was going numb. You didn’t want to give him pause—possibly hurt his feelings—by freeing your touch from his, but that grip was brutal. Deathly rigid and unforgiving. Thoughts of Brooklyn and Madripoor came flooding back; Bucky was so much stronger than he realized. His tone, in contrast, was dulcet and soft.
“I didn’t know I’d get like that. I should’ve told you, doll.”
“I shouldn’t have tried the activation in the first place.”
You shouldn’t have tried digging into Bucky’s past all. When all there seemed to be at every turn was a brand new way for him to hurt you, or the people you loved, maybe there came a time when you had to stop asking questions altogether. Maybe that was what his mother and all the women who’d gone before her had known to do, what you had been too stupid to see all along. There was no knowing these men at all, only taking them as they were and learning to cope with what they became.
Bucky shook his head.
“No, doll, it’s not on you,” he murmured low. Still forceful
Thankfully, he released your hand to cup your cheeks, and he kissed your forehead. You felt your pulse in your palm, throbbing from where he’d held it. When he let go the second time, his expression was considerably softer.
“Listen, I’ll take you home, we can talk things over. As long as I know you’re safe, it doesn’t have to— to—”
Hey. He was already halfway toward the door before he realized you weren’t following him. He turned and gestured forward. He beckoned you, brows drawing in.
“Baby? C’mon.”
You didn’t budge.
Your feet were rooted in place, as though cemented to the floor. No matter how much you wanted to appease him, go along with whatever he asked, you couldn’t. You shook your head, and Bucky tilted his own, confused.
“Baby?”
“I’m leaving, Bucky.”
You couldn’t hear your own words slipping out between your teeth, only the blood rushing through your ears. Bucky stopped and turned to face you completely.
“What?”
“I’m leaving.”
“What— what do you mean, ‘you’re leaving’?”
“I want a divorce.”
That part you did hear yourself. You wished you hadn’t.
You wished you hadn’t seen the light break off from Bucky’s eyes, expression going limp the instant your words registered with him. You nearly wished you hadn’t said them at all, seeing just how far his face fell and how hurt he looked by them—but quietly, from somewhere more rational-headed inside yourself, there was a voice reminding the rest of you that it needed to be done. You couldn’t keep pretending like this wasn’t what had had to come next. What you’d been skirting with Nat all day and hadn’t been able to bring yourself to admit before now.
Your husband still didn’t seem to be computing it fully. He walked closer to you, and his gait was unsteady.
“Divorce?”
Your vision was bleary; you hadn’t even realized tears had begun to brim at your waterline as you watched him.
“It’s what we need, Bucky,” you could barely get it out.
“I don’t,” he shot back, not missing a beat, “I don’t.”
“It’s what I need.”
“You don’t mean that.”
His voice was hoarse, face shifting from lax incredulity to one of a wince—screwed up in a way that said he felt ill. You shook your head but couldn’t look away from him.
“You don’t mean that,” he repeated.
“It’s what I want,” you pressed on, just as sick yourself.
“You said what you wanted was me.” Again, Bucky’s voice splintered, and you could feel the pain in it.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt me, Bucky.”
Gritting your teeth, unsure where else to fix your stare on his face but those eyes—while your own betrayed their feelings too easily, fraught with wet, rolling tears—you shouldn’t have been surprised when his went wider.
“What are you talking about?”
The question was short, sharp, and biting, spoken with such haste as might be mistaken for anger, but the eyes softened his look at once. The anguish painting them now as he stared back at you were a proof, beyond a doubt, that it was betrayal, not rage, which steered him. He turned, and it was as if he couldn’t see a thing but you; his elbow clipped the lamp and knocked it over, but still, he just stared. In turn, the ceramic appliance rolled onto its side, toppled the mug and the vial beside it, and all three went crashing to the floor. Bucky didn’t blink.
“Wh—” he started again, but you didn’t hear the rest.
You remembered Sharon. Heard a flash of her last admonition in your head—be quiet, be quick—and without thinking, you fell to your knees. You tried retrieving what pieces of chipped lamp and shattered mug you could, quickly. You spotted the small vial on the floor and shoved it in a pocket. Your hands swept over the broken pieces without any real idea of what you were doing—all except needing to clean Bucky’s mess—and then swiftly, stupidly, you tried picking it up by yourself.
Of course, a shard cut you. The little slit that was left in its wake could have been no wider than a fraction of an inch, but still, it bled. You looked down at the cut, just then starting to sprout red from left to right along the side of your palm, when a new sight crossed your vision. It was fast, too. All but thoughtless in the way it broke in, gripping your hand in his, and yanking you to your feet. Bucky hadn’t seen that you’d cut yourself, it seemed, and, out of instinct, had grabbed your hand to help you up. As before, his grasp was like a vice, and his thumb pressed right inside the lacerated flesh, sending a whole new maelstrom of pain shooting up your wrist and arm. Now, as then, he was heedless of his strength and his sheer, brute force, that he didn’t even see the effect of his grip. He just held on, held you, tighter, tighter, and—
“STOP!” you shrieked.
You shoved him off. Pried his touch off your palm and gripped your forearm in your other hand and pored over the sight, seeing the gash almost doubled in size from just where Bucky’s finger had sunk into the fresh wound. You let out a sharp, muffled cry through lips that tried to stay closed—remembering Sharon again. You shook your head, clenched your jaw, and tore off the other direction.
And when your husband reached out, eyes wide with their own shock and apologies, ‘Baby, fuck, I’m so sorr—’ you threw him off again. With your non-bleeding palm, you thrust your hand against his chest and pushed hard:
“Don’t touch me!”
When he reached for you again, as if by force of habit, you held up a defensive arm and sobbed out, ‘Stop!’
‘Don’t touch me, don’t—don’t—don’t fucking touch me.’
You screamed it. You didn’t mean to. Thinking only vaguely of the need to be quiet, and almost entirely on the stabbing pain in your hand, the imprint of Bucky’s touch on your body, and the blood trickling down your forearm, you darted into the bathroom and threw the door closed behind you. You locked it. You meant to.
Twenty minutes might as well have been twenty years in Bucky Barnes’ mind. In a moment like this, following yet another supreme fuck up on his part, he felt powerless. He had had to fight the instinct to barge into the next room over with every fiber of his being, and, making fists by his sides and pacing the floor and hating himself was all that seemed capable of occupying his mind just then.
He’d knocked on the bathroom door at least ten times. He’d been ignored each time, no matter the duration.
He still had your blood on his thumb, and it made him ill.
You said you wouldn’t hurt me, Bucky.
While he uncurled his hand from a fist just long enough to stare at the streaks of red stretched over his finger, he heard those words replay over and over again in his head. He’d said it—swore it—himself, and still your blood was turning a cool, dark, dry shade of crimson on his thumb.
This wasn’t how he’d meant for any of this to go. Still, notwithstanding his best intentions, none of it mattered. He’d seen a sincere look of fear in your eyes looking up at him, and nothing in the world would change what he’d done, or who he was. He’d caused you pain tonight, last week—though his memory of that was still so hazy and dark he hardly knew what else had happened, even now—and above all, he’d failed you as a husband, a protector.
You were likely curled up in a ball by the bathroom sink, cowering in fear because of him. The thought sent another tidal wave of nausea thrumming through his skull, a lump in his throat growing larger alongside it, and before he knew what he was doing, Bucky was striding back to the bathroom door. He banged his fist against it.
“Honey?”
No answer.
“Baby, please open the door.”
More silence.
The moment brought to mind a memory from the night you two had been married. How you’d fled to the en-suite bathroom and locked yourself in it; how Bucky had rattled the whole doorframe with the force of his knocks, demanding you come out. He’d hardly known you then. You hardly knew him now. The realization of this made the weight in his throat all the more excruciating as he stood, and, wincing with pain, Bucky kept knocking.
“I’m sorry, honey, I’m so sorry.”
Pleading now. His voice was hoarse all over again.
Had he been the slightest bit more desperate and reckless, he might’ve been tempted to muscle through, kick the door in with his boot. But Bucky knew better. He could already guess how much that action would terrify you now, while tending to an injury that he himself had inadvertently made worse. Barreling inside would be neither romantic nor sweet, just sinking what may then be a lethal dose of salt in the deeper, metaphorical wound. He refrained. Instead of continuing to knock, he dropped his forehead to the door and closed his eyes.
“Please believe me, baby,” he tried again.
He’d said it so quietly he feared you might not hear it. Then, a little bit louder, ‘Please, please believe me.’
No sound to be heard inside but running water.
“You mean everything to me, doll.”
By now, his voice was clogged with pain, teetering on the brink of agony as he rested his hands on the door, and willed you to open it. Say something to him. Anything.
“I’d never mean to hurt you. Not in a million years.”
For a moment, he heard nothing more. Just how desperately he needed to hear a voice in reply could not be overstated. Craving a new sound worse than oxygen in his lungs. At first, when he heard something other than himself nearby, it nearly knocked him back with joy.
A voice right next to his ear, “But you did, didn’t you?”
The joy lasted less than a second.
The voice beside him was low. And close. Not coming from the other side of the bathroom door, as he might’ve reasonably expected from you, and not even in the tone of a female’s voice, as he might’ve seen, were Sharon to have appeared by his side. This new voice was deep, and masculine, and in his ear now, chuckling some as a gloved hand pressed the barrel of a gun to his temple.
Bucky didn’t blink.
You stepped outside not wanting to see him.
The bleeding had long since stopped, thanks to the aid of a cool, damp washcloth and a few minutes’ pressure, but even once it ceased, your legs were reluctant to carry you back. You dreaded the thought of having to resume your conversation with Bucky—of having to look him in the eye and tell him all over again that it wasn’t safe for you to be married to him. But you didn’t have much of a choice now, either. This wasn’t your honeymoon, where you could stay locked in the bathroom, try climbing out a window, and hope for the best like you’d done before. You had the man’s child inside you, for fuck’s sake.
That uncomfortable subject and at least a dozen more were already swarming your brain as you made your way out of the bathroom. You’d taken a few extra squares of toilet paper to press into the cut, were looking down at it with a tense, uncertain gaze as you ventured out, when you were obliged to stop just a few steps into the room.
“Hi, honey.”
It wasn’t Bucky.
Your eyes snapped up to the source of the voice in an instant, and, on seeing you were right—that it wasn’t Bucky but a gaunt, grinning blond with a gun to your husband’s head—you almost screamed at the sight.
You’d wanted to scream, anyway. It would’ve been the sane thing to do, and one that nobody could’ve blamed you for in the moment, you reckoned, but strangely the sound never came. You just stared at the two, eyes wide and jaw slightly more lax as your lips made an ‘o’. Bile jumped up in your throat. You wished it would choke you.
‘Please. Don’t.’ was all you could get out.
Johann Schröder’s smile stretched wider.
“Don’t what?”
The question was clearly meant to be derisive, rhetorical. Still, with your fingers trembling, you tried answering:
“Don’t hurt h—”
“Why?”
You watched the gun sink deeper against your husband’s face, and he flinched. Your stomach clenched inside you.
“Why shouldn’t I hurt him, hon? Seems like he’s gotten pretty damn good at doing it to you,” Schröder sneered.
His words stung. The grin didn’t flinch. And, as if to punctuate his sentence, or else remind your husband that he was tied to a chair and entirely at his mercy now, Schröder struck Bucky in the face with the butt of his gun. If an onlooker hadn’t known better, they might’ve mistaken you for the one who’d been hit, though—at last, you unleashed that scream, and you reached out for Bucky, hands open and pathetic and desperate to help.
“Think it hurt as bad as your hand?” Schröder hummed.
Your feet were stumbling forward, “He didn’t mean—”
Another resounding thud against Bucky’s skull, this time hard enough to split his lip in half. If he’d grimaced in the slightest, you would’ve seen the teeth smeared with blood. But, true to form, James Barnes didn’t wince. He hadn’t even seemed to acknowledge the blow as it landed. Just stared at you and, with eyes as hollow and deadened and faintly pleading as you’d ever seen them before, manifested their silent apology to yours—again.
“Bet he didn’t mean to hurt anyone as the Winter Soldier, either. Still couldn’t have felt too good for all the folks he butchered, though.” At that, Schröder’s sick amusement morphed into a laugh, and he was taking Bucky’s collar in his other hand. Shaking him lightly while he spoke.
“Couldn’t have felt all that great for your dad, I bet.”
The diversion turned to you, all toothy smiles and mocking eyes. He didn’t care. He let you stagger another step toward the two of them, even try to get your hands close to Bucky. But when you’d drawn too close, he stopped you cold. Not thinking much else in the moment, you made a move to push Schröder’s arm away, hard, and were shortly rewarded with a shove of your own. He knocked you sideways onto the bed, and you landed on the hand you’d hurt. Before you could let out so much as a sound yourself, Bucky’s voice tore in:
“Schröder.”
Schröder turned. He raised his Ruger to your husband’s head again, as casually as if he’d asked him for the time.
“Yes?”
“Don’t touch her.”
Schröder turned to you. Though he didn’t move the Ruger again, he did point his finger at your form, haplessly curled into itself amidst the covers and pillows.
“Why? Saving all the rough stuff for later, are we?”
You cowered as his free hand reached for you, and just as your husband’s eyes went wide and a vein nearly tore through his skin from how hard it protruded, you cried,
“What do you want?!”
Schröder stopped. He brought his hand to a halt just south of your thigh—and then he dropped his weight on the bed beside you. He gestured indistinctly, almost disbelievingly, toward Bucky. The latter appeared near-apoplectic, nails raking down either arm of the chair.
“What do I want?” Schröder quipped, incredulous, “What do you want, doll? To stay married to him?”
And you knew he’d intended the question to be hurtful; you knew it by the glint in his eye, the goading tone of voice and the look he’d flitted to Bucky—nondescript and yet saying a world more than words could ever convey. He knew what had gone on between you, had likely heard your last conversation in its entirety, and was now using it against you. Mostly to taunt, then to injure your husband with truths he hadn’t yet uncovered himself.
Schröder’s eyes were shining with sadistic delight as he took your hand in his. He didn’t waste another second.
“No, no, that isn’t what you want at all, is it?”
Ignoring the screech of Bucky’s restraints as he tried to lunge out of his chair. Hearing him curse when he failed.
“—you said you’re leaving him, right?”
Schröder slid the thin, glistening ring off the hand he’d been holding before you could even think to stop him.
“—said you want a divorce, is that it?”
Then his grin got so big and conceited and enlivened by the sight of pain working its way onto Bucky’s face that any good sense you’d had left inside you was abandoned in a blink. You didn’t hesitate, or else try and make a pass to retrieve your ring—you just hit the man in the face.
Your fist was small, and his chin was hard. You knew before you ever threw the punch that it’d probably hurt you more than him, but you did it anyway. It succeeded, at the very least, in catching Schröder by surprise and swiftly pissing him off. Seeing this and feeling a bit bolder, you were somehow able to dodge his hands when he lurched for you again. Inside, your own anger flared.
“Why the fuck do you care?” you spat.
You found momentary respite in the corner of the bed, sliding back against a wall that would only protect you for so long. As soon as Schröder regained his bearings, he had you back in his sights and his grasp just as quick.
He dragged you back. He pulled you up. He dug the tips of his fingers so hard into your side that you thought the flesh might tear in two across your ribs. But it didn’t. Crescent-like indentations did leave their mark in a grisly set of five, though. You felt the sting of it as Schröder loosened his grip, then sucked his next breath through his teeth as if calming himself. Your gaze only hardened.
“I care,” he said, once he’d completed this slow inhale. He replaced his touch by pinching your face in one hand and bringing it up to his, expression more like a snarl. Then, raising the gun to your face in his other hand, “because I made a deal with your father. Remember?”
You did. Your head jerked back by force of instinct, but he held it. From every direction, then, you had nothing to hear but the sound of your own pulse thrumming a fast, panicked tempo in your skull. You tasted blood in your mouth without a drop on your tongue. And, had that deafening fear and revulsion been anything less, you likely would’ve heard something else beneath it all.
Would’ve felt it, if you weren’t already so numb: Schröder’s hand sliding its way down your body, diamond ring still stuck to the tip of his index finger. You sensed it as though seeing yourself from another perspective—watching his hand trail lower, lower, lower until something in Bucky split in two and he bellowed:
“SCHRÖDER—”
He said something more after that; you were sure of it. You just couldn’t hear him, or see him, or discern much of anything else but your own racing heart as the man who’d just beat your husband twice and lifted a gun to your head proceeded to press his touch to your belly. Almost conscientious and gentle as he lowered it.
“Was this part of the deal, too, doll?”
Your eyes widened. Realizing—then feeling fear seize you completely. Forgetting the metal at your temple and shaking your head with a force, but slow enough that your husband wouldn’t see it. Meanwhile, across from you both, Bucky seemed more than sufficiently occupied by his own blinding rage—he spit a glob of blood to the floor and, with his teeth bared again, swore he’d kill him.
Over and over and over again, oaths of taking Schröder’s life and making it gruesome and painful and slow filled your ears, but none of it stuck, for either you or Schröder. Instead, your maniacal captor just smiled, leaning in.
“I said, was this part of the deal, Mrs. Barnes?”
The heel of his palm sank into your stomach, and as the shock of his first words began to fade, a pain replaced it. His hand made an impressive demonstration of flattening and forcing itself so hard against the skin that a flurry of stars cropped up in your eyes, and you cried:
“Stop! I-It wasn’t— just— just stop. Stop.”
“Stop? Was it part of the deal or not?”
Schröder bore down even harder.
“It just happened!” you keened. Unsure why you felt compelled to answer for what had gone on at all—addressing the baby in this awful, oblique way—though reckoning it had something to do with the pressure he was applying to your stomach. You tried to squirm back.
But your stuttering pulse and your pleading gaze and the ache in your stomach proved to be all too much for any real progress to be made. You’d scarcely moved off an inch before he drove his palm deeper, and with the agony of a body about to rupture beneath it, a shriek clawed out of your throat. Your mouth fell open, and for once, you couldn’t curtail the pain, or fear. Schröder’s hand had just forced the noise from your mouth, along with some mindless, broken pleas to stop pushing, it hurts, please, please, when the face above yours only brightened. Schröder’s cruel, snide mouth flashed a smile above you, and before you could whine again—
He kissed you.
It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second.
Still, the moment seemed to stretch indefinitely. And felt perverse. So deeply nauseating and unsettling to every last nerve, muscle, tendon, and bone in your body that the response it evoked could be nothing less than visceral. You didn’t need to think at all to shove him off. Whatever might’ve given you pause with a loaded gun to your head was forgotten in a second, and soon enough, you weren’t alone in letting your reproach be known.
It started off with a crack, then a harsh, crude splintering of wood. A violent rift, from what you could hear of it, and when you turned your head, your suspicions were confirmed: Bucky had snapped half the arm of his chair away from the seat, and his right hand was almost freed.
Whatever barrier he faced in being bound more than four times over with rope seemed immaterial to him now. He could strain as hard as he pleased—feel the coarse synthetic fibers dig into his flesh and leave streaks of red, if not break the skin itself—and any pain, as before, hardly appeared to register with your husband at all. He just muscled through it, thrusting his wrist even harder. The whole force of this movement rocked the chair on its legs, and just when you sensed it might collapse beneath his weight, you felt Schröder stand up. The man didn’t need to move too far or do much else other than drop his hold on you and flip his gun to point it at Bucky instead.
Even when he had, though, Bucky didn’t flinch. His hands were in fists and his drive was like a machine’s—he tried forcing his way out of the right hand’s restraints, and the second the wood gave way, he was shoving it off.
Blind to the firearm Schröder was holding, or his words:
“Stay where you are, Barnes.”
Bucky was just then shaking off the rope that had been loosened by the break in the wood, jaw still tight as ever.
“You’ve got three other limbs to free, my friend, just—”
Schröder was still speaking when you saw his finger slip to the trigger, and it seemed to you it was itching to pull.
“James, stop!”
That plea came from you. More of a strangled cry, really—no more pleasant for either man to hear than it was for your throat to shriek. It did, however, stop Bucky cold. Your husband paused just long enough to meet your gaze. And in it, you saw, at least, that he was all there, if not enraged. But not soldat, or anyone else but himself.
You sighed in relief, despite what seeing two red rivers seeping out of Bucky’s mouth might otherwise provoke.
It was him. You might’ve smiled if another hadn’t cut in.
Schröder seized Bucky’s wrist. With it, you saw his hand just as mangled and bloodied as his lips. Knuckles cracked, slit, and soon to be littered with bruises of every shade, he shocked you again by how calmly he took it. Even when Schröder sank a thumb inside a big, gaping crater of a flesh wound he’d found on the back of his hand, your husband didn’t blink; he just looked at you.
‘I’m sorry.’
When the barrel of the gun returned to his head—this time, at the rear, as Schröder had circled back around the half-broken chair and was leaning over him—you could see the apology lodged in his eyes on full display.
“For safekeeping.” The man wielding the gun seemed almost pleased as he dropped your ring inside the breast pocket of your husband’s shirt, before patting it gently:
“Now where were we?”
A beat. Bucky’s right hand twitched beside him, but evidently, he knew better than to move in that moment.
“Right, right—” Schröder pretended to be remembering, tapping steel to Bucky’s skull, “She’s leaving, isn’t she?”
More silence.
You wanted to speak, beg Schröder for mercy, anything.
“Do you know why that is, Bucky?”
But before you could utter even a word of protest, the voice pressed on. Schröder was leaning in his ear.
“—what you did to her?”
The baby. Brooklyn. All the bloodshed that had ensued last week, leaving your husband completely in the dark. Of course, he couldn’t remember. He hadn’t been himself, and was scarcely more able to control his actions as the Winter Soldier than he could in a dream.
To your horror, Schröder reached down for Bucky’s hand, and, still holding the gun to him with the other, lifted it.
Pointed it.
Pushed it closer to you.
“C’mon, Buck. You don’t want me touching her, right? Why don’t you feel for yourself what she’s been hiding?”
Your blood turned to ice. You’d never felt so immobile—paralyzed—in your life, but seeing the hands drift closer and closer and feeling defenseless to their course, your body went numb. Your limbs grew heavier than lead.
And when you felt the smug, smiling blond guide your husband’s touch toward your head, you understood it all.
You were perched at the edge of the bed a foot away. Schröder was nudging Bucky forward in his chair, urging him to reach out and tilt her chin a little, go on, that’s it. And neither one of you had a choice, so he touched you. His fingers, directed by someone else, were obliged to brush the skin of your chin, your jaw, your cheek, and your brow, before finally settling above your left temple.
Your husband felt the cut—touched the stitches.
You winced, but not from any physical pain. It was Bucky’s face as the tips of his fingers skimmed the wound. The look of chagrin that crossed his eyes. Then bewilderment. Fear, as plain as anyone could see it— was he the cause of that? Had the hurt been from him?
You couldn’t bear to answer him, so you looked away. It was Schröder, again, who had all the power to speak.
“Can’t remember pushing her down?” he said, tone dark, “Making her split her head open on the bedside table because soldat didn’t know his own strength—only that he had to keep her safe—and sensed a threat outside?”
Bucky shook his head. His face was grave.
Schröder kept making him prod the skin.
“It’s bruised here, too. You feel it?”
Your husband did, and you thought it might break him. So tender and forlorn were the eyes, raking over every spot where a touch, his touch, had left you hurt before.
If nothing else could bring you back to your senses, the wounded look in Bucky’s gaze was sure to get it done.
You hardly thought again, just croaked: ‘It’s not his fault.’
Schröder’s hand then descended your neck, your torso.
As if he hadn’t heard you at all—
“You already saw what happened to her hand.”
—and forcing Bucky’s touch lower still.
“But what about here?”
Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt your husband’s hand come to rest on your stomach.
It was like a fire had ignited in your lower half, and nothing close to the soft, pleasurable kind. Not the flutter felt in anticipation of a touch from your husband, not the desirous sort. In fact, you dreaded it now; seeing Schröder over his shoulder, urging him closer, making him flatten his big, broad, scorching palm over your belly.
What should’ve been the ecstatic scene you’d conjured in your mind at least a hundred times since marrying him—the picture of domestic bliss as you said it, smiling, I’m pregnant—was now nothing short of torture. Choice all but stripped from you here, forced to emerge inside this terrible place, you found yourself needing to shrink back, shake your head, look to Schröder’s stubborn, unyielding gaze and beg him not to make you do this now. Not now.
Not here, with Bucky’s skin a shade of glacial white and his eyes going wide, taking on a look you’d never seen.
“What do you—”
He stared hard at the hand on your belly, but it didn’t last for long. As if realization were trying to seep in, he couldn’t meet it. His eyes flitted back to your face.
“Baby, what’s—” he tried again, stammering.
“—right, that’s it, Mr. Barnes.” That was Schröder.
Satisfied in the suspense of the moment keeping your husband still, he lifted his hand from Bucky’s and snapped, that’s it, and clapped him over the shoulder.
Congratulating him before the truth had even sunk in.
“A baby, that’s right! You’re going to be a father, Buck.”
And how far was the look on Bucky’s face from the one you’d dreamed before. The lips you’d envisioned in a smile now twisting bleakly, parting slightly, and the eyes you’d once hoped to be bright and elated only staring back with rings of red enveloping the irises. Whatever tears formed at his waterline were decidedly not of joy.
Only guilt.
“You did it.”
Desperation.
More moisture in his eyes as his hand started to tremble across your stomach, voice hoarse and soft, “Is it true?”
You didn’t need to nod. You just watched him, let your own eyes fill with the worst, stinging tears you had felt in your life, and from the silence that followed, Bucky knew.
As if the life beneath his palm were something dear, but still too much for him to comprehend, he shook his head. He stroked his thumb over the cotton of your pyjamas and tried inching closer, as much as his restraints would allow him. Then, with words that were audibly strained, but always gentle, he lowered his voice—as if to keep the communication between you two, despite your position:
“I love you.”
His hand was still on your belly as he said it. He reached up to cup your face. Even lower than before, “I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry.
That much was evident from every look he’d given you tonight. Every move he made a de facto apology, all actions in the vein of atonement, it couldn’t possibly escape your mind or his that he knew he’d done wrong. It was only a matter of accepting this—maybe coming to terms with the fact that your life wasn’t safe in his hands—for the guilt plaguing Bucky to multiply. Paralyze him.
There was no better time for Schröder to strike. Just as the anguish had flooded Bucky’s face completely, and his hand had had to lower itself from want of strength, a sound split the air. Bucky was so lost in his thoughts that it didn’t even register at first, but the impact was real, and it was harsh: Schröder punched him squarely in the jaw. The next, swift snap was his nasal bone taking a blow, and breaking beneath it. Blood breezed down and into his mouth. Feeling warm, his lips and chin doused in a second, he sensed nothing else. He might’ve groaned.
He caught another swift right hook, and his mind went blank. Nothing of substance threatened to materialize between his ears, save for the rush of blood through and from his skull and the dim recognition of something ugly.
Something horrific.
He couldn’t protect you.
His body was as much an idle waste as it was a danger. Useless now, as he was tied to this chair, and a risk to your well-being even if he weren’t. The hazard was him.
Schröder hit him again, and Bucky realized that the ringing he’d heard in his ears was your screaming.
“I’m doing her a favor,” Schröder spat before shoving him back in the chair, almost knocking it sideways.
The blond advanced with ease. His knuckles were drenched in blood; none of it was his. When he reached for Bucky again, the resistance was slight, and a simple, firm grip on the collar was all that was needed to drag his frame to sit straight. Bucky was barely upright for a second before the next—and worst—blow struck his face. His whole head rang with it, reeling, but still, he could make out the words as they were spoken to him.
“She’ll never be safe with you, Barnes. Never—” and at the last, Schröder lowered his gun. Started to loosen the rope from Bucky’s left arm, “—I could free you now, and you still wouldn’t get within an inch of what you want.”
He nudged the rope away and let it fall to the floor. Bucky lifted his hand, but the effort was in vain. No sooner had a finger of his stirred than Schröder was delivering a kick to the chair and letting it splinter. Topple. Skitter a half-foot across the hardwood floor with Bucky’s ankles still bound to it, before finally, gracelessly, breaking apart.
Bucky was on the floor, blinking through a stream of blood and a sea of muddied thoughts when Schröder kicked the chair again. The rope slackened some more.
“Her own father knew as much, so he made me a deal to take her off of your hands. Settle his debts the way he should’ve done the first time around,” Schröder said, and now his tone was lower. Lethal as it ever was, and stern.
“I know how much you hate to lose your playthings, Buck, but this one’s better off with me, I promise.”
And, as if to emphasize his point, Schröder turned and reached for you. Bucky’s own hands were slow, fumbling in fits and bursts to get the rope unwound from his ankles, but they were determined. He just couldn’t get the bleeding to stop, the ringing to subside, or his brain, in its concussed state, to let him move with a little more agility. He’d been hit too many times. He could barely lift his head off his shoulders and hold it straight, so he was forced to stay where he was, keep at his task, and listen.
“You’re weak when you’re not soldat.”
Using his knuckles, Schröder brushed the blood that was evidently all Bucky’s across your cheek, and you flinched.
“When you make the switch, still…you’re inhuman.”
Then he tilted your head, making you show them both the mutilated, stitched-up flesh above your temple. Again, you tried to slink away, but his touch was firm.
“Don’t you think your bride deserves better than that? Your child? Forced to live in fear of that thing you are?”
Blood coursed down Bucky’s face, and his lips were curled apart in a grimace, mouth hanging slightly ajar. His eyes fixed their look on you. The rope was undone.
He’d just started to try and stand when the edge of his vision blurred. He felt the lacerations in his face pulse as one, and with it, half his sight went skewed to the left. Schröder couldn’t help but crack a smile seeing him stumble, pitch back, and barely catch himself on the bedside table. When he stood, he was mostly hunched.
“Look at you, Buck. You can’t try and save her like this,” Schröder taunted, drawing you closer, “So stop trying.”
The man’s hand was like ice holding your face. The grip grew tighter when he saw your husband limping your way, and before either one of you could move, the index of Schröder’s other hand had slid down to the trigger. He didn’t wait to give another warning before he did it—just pointed the gun and fired one shot over Bucky’s head.
His aim was good. The bullet missed your husband by less than an inch. The gun had gone off by your ear, and immediately, you seized the side of your head as a sharp, searing pain cropped up. Your skull was still ringing when you heard the thing discharge again, and you realized it had been aimed at Bucky’s neck. He’d ventured another step, and Schröder had fired a second round to graze the top of his shoulder. Crimson bloomed through his shirt.
Bucky should’ve stumbled again. He might’ve staggered back with a grunt of pain, lifted a quick, reflexive hand to feel the wound, but the sense of it all was slow to reach him. The moments that passed him were delayed just the same, as if the world around him were distorted—the fibers of time tugged and stretched before his eyes—and he could hardly keep himself straight. When he got another look down the barrel of the gun, he didn’t blink. Couldn’t see, really. It was all misshapen sights and sounds and a dim recognition that his mind was in a fog.
Somewhere from within that mist, he heard, faintly:
“I’ll go— I’ll go— I’ll go with you, I’ll go— just stop.”
Schröder turned to you, and the smile that he wore was cruel, but Bucky wasn’t able to make out the expression.
All he could see then, to the faintest extent, was you—your face, gripped hard in another man’s hand, eyes pleading and wet with tears, and a slightly slack jaw.
“Leave him for me?” Schröder repeated, sneering.
You nodded. Blinked. Rolled your tongue along the inside of your cheek before pulling it back and biting down once. There was a hint of a wince in your eyes, but, from what Bucky could tell, it vanished just as fast as it came.
Your lips parted again. Your eyes widened a little.
“So the girl has some fucking sense.” That was Schröder.
He’d had his weapon re-holstered and your face firmly seized in both of his hands in no more than a second.
What came next surprised no one, though the sensations of disgust and rage were as quick to turn a stomach as the shock would have done. Schröder bent down and, having pulled your face closer to his, kissed you again.
Schröder’s mouth was glistening with a grin and Bucky’s own blood—smeared all over your face from how hard he’d been holding you—when he looked up and turned.
“Sensible and sweet, isn’t she? Tastes like it, too.”
Bucky saw nothing but red. It wasn’t just blood crowding his vision now but violence and rancor and outright hatred, stirring his limbs to start moving again when the rest of his body was plainly too battered to venture an inch in that condition. He staggered again, watched you again, and had made it almost halfway across the room when another sight slowed him, if only for a moment.
Schröder’s lips were back on yours, as if to mock him, but what startled him, really, was the way you’d opened your mouth. You couldn’t mean it. Clearly. Schröder was gripping your jaw, forcing it open—it had to be—and he was coaxing your tongue out from inside and weaving it with his. Once more, time moved like molasses, and that was all your husband had had to see: you kissing him back, gripping his arm through the thick, black tactical gear, and still parting your lips more and more for him. Like you needed a touch, or something, worse than ever.
That stalled Bucky, though he was nowhere close to stopping now. Briefly preoccupied, and seemingly shocked as well that you’d accepted the kiss so eagerly this time, Schröder didn’t see the approach. If he had, he likely would’ve turned and made a move for his Ruger, but as it was, he had only to blink—and there was Bucky.
He hit him with a force that was blinding, directly to the side of his head so hard that he’d had no choice but to separate from you. Schröder was stunned one second and on the floor in the next. Bucky threw him there, kicked him down, and, wavering for only a moment to cock back the shoulder that’d been shot, he ignored the pain and punched the man again. And again. And again.
There was a callousness, an indolence, and an ease with which he was able to inflict the pain, that much was evident. What didn’t seem so natural, at least in Bucky’s mind, was the weight that was in his hands: Schröder’s body felt limp before he’d even landed the second blow.
The pressure grew heavier and heavier in his hands the harder, and more frequently, he delivered each hit, but for now, he didn’t care. Bucky kept on punching until the face beneath him was gnarled and bloody, and his own fist, too, slashed every which way with more cuts than he was able to count. He would’ve kept going—could’ve ignored the stabbing pain in his shoulder for as long as it would take to ensure the man was dead—but as it was, he refused to ignore the voice he heard. It was yours.
Muffled now, as your body was bent to the side and your head drooped lower still. Your voice was soft but clear:
“Bucky, please, stop.”
He did.
He dropped the man’s collar from his hands as soon as he’d heard you say it, and he turned away as if nothing had transpired behind him at all. His focus was on you.
“Baby—”
To his surprise, he watched you spit on the floor.
Your face was grim and almost sick, and you spit again.
The look grew even worse, and afterward, you didn’t waste a second more; you stood and left the room.
Bucky was stunned at first, and his instinct had been to follow. Then he heard a rattling sound beside him. He glanced down and paled, seeing Schröder there.
His face had turned blue much sooner than Bucky had expected—and not from any bruising but a lack of oxygen in his lungs. He was choking, foaming slightly at the mouth while he gasped for air. Surely, it hadn’t been the hits that caused it. The whites of Schröder’s eyes were as conspicuous as he’d ever seen them. Desperate.
Bucky swiftly got the sense that the life of his former captor was lost, and frankly, he didn’t care enough to watch him die. He left what remained of Schröder’s form to continue writhing on the floor, choking and sputtering for a breath that would never come, and went after you.
Downstairs, he found you hunched over the kitchen sink—spitting, retching, and trembling, too, but breathing.
You let the water from the faucet fill your mouth, and you rinsed again. You winced as something stuck your cheek.
Bucky drew closer, quickly, and when he was right by your side, he saw you spit a shard of glass into the sink. He looked over to the counter, and he spotted three more
They were minuscule, really. Nothing quite the size to leave a wound too deep, but sharp enough to cut your lips, your tongue, or the insides of your cheeks. When Bucky leaned in, he saw droplets of red joining the flow of the water beneath it. You coughed over and over again
“Don’t,” you croaked, seeing Bucky reach for the glass.
Before he could reply: “It’s the poison. From Madripoor.”
Your husband’s blood went cold in his veins. He didn’t touch the glass, but he did press closer to you, feeling his insides churn as the cogs started to turn in his head.
The vial of poison you’d been given to slip in Schröder’s drink at the Foxy Den—how the hell had you gotten it back? Why would you think you needed it, if he— but no, that couldn’t be the case. There wasn’t a shot you just—
“—put it in your mouth?” Bucky couldn’t curb the fear in his voice. He reached for you and spun you to face him.
“Did it kill him?”
Your eyes were wide for entirely different reasons. Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing; his mouth was dry.
“I didn’t want to kiss him,” you went on, voice shaking a little, “I didn’t— I just— I couldn’t get him the poison any other way. I knew he’d kiss me again, and when he did—”
“I know,” Bucky said. He smoothed the hair from your face, shaking his head. Feeling his stomach clench with fear and dread as he hurried to get a look in your mouth.
You’d snuck the vial inside your cheek, then crushed it between your teeth before Schröder had kissed you. You’d all but forced him to swallow the poison, shoving your tongue down his throat, but what of the stuff that remained? The rough, trembling fingers of Bucky’s hand were trying to pry your lips apart as gently as they could, ensure all the serum was out, but at present, you wouldn’t let him. You pushed back gently, though not too far to prevent your own touch from roaming his shoulder.
“The bullet—” you started.
“Barely nicked me,” Bucky cut in, “Baby, I need to see—”
That you’re safe. That you won’t be hurt in any way. He couldn’t finish the thought himself, having seen what the poison did to Schröder. Instead, he just held you closer and fought the lump that was starting to form in his throat. Adrenaline had worked well enough to clear his mind of the haze, but the rest of him was all high-strung.
Your clothes clung to you both, wet with blood and sweat. Your breaths were fast. Your expressions were feral, eyes no calmer as they scanned over the other’s form and soaked in every trace of what had happened. Bucky in his formalwear and you in something close to a chemise—like your honeymoon night all over again—you each got a glimpse of the gore ornamenting yourselves and let the room fall quiet, if only for a minute or two.
Your husband was the one to break the silence, at length, with cracked and grisly hands sliding down to your hips.
“You’re okay?”
His touch shifted you back in place to sit on the counter.
“I’m alright.”
You wanted to say more; assure him, in a voice as sedate as you could manage, that this wasn’t his fault. Whether he would believe a word of what you said was a separate question, but, at any rate, it didn’t matter. The next thing you knew, Bucky was slotting himself in the space between your legs and pulling you into his arms.
In spite of himself and all the wounds, he held you tight.
“You’re alright,” he repeated.
His face sank into the crook of your neck, and you felt his muscles contract again—pulling you closer—as he drew a shaky breath against your skin. You hugged him back.
“Are you?” Your voice was small.
In a blink, Bucky resurfaced. He lifted his head from your neck and, still holding you, hadn’t seemed to have heard.
“The baby,” he said quickly.
He stepped back. Lowered his gaze and his hands to trail over your hips and near your stomach, and he stared, as if trying to make sense of something dire. His blue eyes were wide, and they assumed such a look of panic that you feared a blood vessel might actually burst in one.
After all the great lengths he’d gone to, ensuring you were safe and taking extra precautions, on the off-chance you might be pregnant, here you were.
And there he went, sliding his touch lower and lower again until his hand was pressed into your belly, and the gaze you’d once thought soft before had all but melted into tenderness—delicacy. Complete, loving unreserve.
When his eyes met yours a second time, they were shiny.
Wet with the only kind of tears you’d want to see in them.
“You’re really…” he started, just to taper off, blinking.
And then his cheeks were dotted with the tiny, round droplets, and he’d finally ventured a smile for the first time in what seemed like ages and you couldn’t keep from reaching for him. The second you’d lifted your arms you were back in his, lips and nose smushed against the front of his stained white button-up and breathing deep.
Or trying to, anyway. Bucky had you squeezed so tight to his chest you had nothing but his shirt to inhale at first. You didn’t mind, and when he pulled away a moment later, you realized that your eyes, too, were filling up quick. You had to steel yourself against a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to emerge—the aftermath of a half-dozen traumas laid bare over the last hour—but the longer you were here, and the more your husband stared at you like that, the quicker your courage was depleted. In the span of five seconds, your senses were shot to hell. All you could think was what you could feel, and all you felt was Bucky: his arms and his hands and the raw, blistering heat between your bodies. The rest was noise.
It surprised you both when you kissed him. Physically, your mouth and his were hardly up to do it, injured as they were, but the impulse was strong, and it flowed between you. As soon as your lips latched onto his, Bucky was holding your face, molding his body to yours without so much as a second thought, and the mouth you met was sturdy. Hungry in the way it kissed back.
A string of words from Schröder flashed in your mind—‘Never be safe’—and you grit your teeth together, snagging the cusp of Bucky’s lower lip as you did it. He groaned. Before you could even try to apologize, though, he was gripping your face harder in his hands and coaxing your mouth open with his tongue. His front was still flush with yours, and your legs were starting to wind around his hips. Your husband nudged you back against the cabinets, and from the force of that push, you felt it.
Felt him.
Surely, it had had to take two very fucked up individuals to get all hot and bothered from a bloodbath that had just taken place; but, again, here you were—together.
And there you went, grinding your lower half with his.
“Doll?” Bucky broke out, word slurred just a little.
For a second, you thought he was going to stop you. Your eyes scanned his, and you were already planning to apologize for being so horny, it must just be the—
“You know I love you, right?” he breathed.
You blinked. You were about to nod, when you felt the bulge in his slacks start to rub against your barely-clothed heat, and something akin to a shockwave coursed through your frame. It couldn’t be helped. A monsoon of hyper-sensitized pleasure trembled over the skin in a way you’d never felt it before, and suddenly you were letting out a moan: a muffled cry of, ‘Yes, I-I know.’
Your husband swallowed and stared, slightly taken aback by the reaction his erection had produced. He’d never felt that either. At least from what he could remember.
The truth was that he’d never had a pregnant wife before—someone whose body was now extraordinarily responsive to his touch, nearly aching for him.
When you scooted your butt to the edge of the counter and dug your heels in the backs of his legs, humping him, almost, he got the idea. Bucky swallowed again.
“I love you too, I— I—” you started, already out of breath, “I just really need you to fuck me. Can you— please—”
Bucky didn’t need to be asked once, much less twice. He already had his belt, button, and zip undone before you could even look down, and then your own pyjama shorts were sliding off too. The counter was cool against your skin, but your husband’s warmth was more than enough to compensate for the loss. You smiled again, sheepish.
“It’s just…hormones,” you said, quieter toward the end.
You weren’t sure why you felt so ashamed to simply say, ‘James, I’ve been damn near insane with desire ever since you put a baby in me. Can you give me five more?’ But you did. You felt your cheeks start to heat as your lower half was left exposed to the air, and Bucky slipped his hand down between your legs, practically groaning:
“Honey, you’re soaked.”
There wasn’t one iota of shame in his tone.
He was more than happy to find you drenched beneath his touch. He had a smile on his face and a warmth bleeding from every fingertip as he caressed that soft, tender spot. You didn’t need to tell him what was on your mind, either. He sensed something was making you shy, and rather than have you say it aloud, he just touched you gentler, stroked the skin more affectionately, and tilted his head so only you could hear him, quiet as ever:
“That’s my girl. Feeling good for me?”
You felt your heartbeat between your thighs.
“My baby,” Bucky went on, voice dulcet and slow.
Your body was trembling at the edge, waiting. Impatient.
“My wife,” he said that with a smile, into your neck.
He lowered you onto his length, and you whined.
“Mother of my child.” The smile got bigger.
You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. Feeling him slide inside the most precious, wet, pliable part of you, stretching you out, you couldn’t help the sounds you made. You felt full in a whole new way; the groan Bucky let out when you were impaled down to the base of his cock said he shared the feeling. He throbbed inside you.
“You’re—fuck.” Bucky’s words broke off at the sensation.
Your walls were as slick as ever, your body delicate, rolling your hips to the first gentle thrusts that his shaft carved inside. Neither one of you could last long like this.
Still, at the threat of sublime pleasure, you felt fear, briefly: Schröder’s implacable stare—and the thousands more like him in HYDRA. You couldn’t help but grip Bucky tighter, willing these thoughts away with the rhythm of your body over his. Feeling him fill you up, fuck you with quick, deliberate thrusts and hold you, ‘That’s it, take what you need, sweet girl, you’re okay.’
You wished you were. You wanted to be. With every stab of Bucky’s hips, you hoped this would be the last night you ever feared for you or your child’s life, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t true. This was everything your husband’s varied ‘enterprises’ entailed, and a life with him meant never knowing a day without it—fear.
The head of Bucky’s cock grazed an especially sensitive ridge in your walls, and you whimpered into his shoulder.
You smelled blood.
He pushed you back against the counter and pounded harder, breaths heavy and labored and gruff as he spoke:
“You’re okay, baby, it’s alright.”
Your mind tried clinging to that thought, nodding along as if to convince yourself. The pleasure grew stronger, and your body was hot. Everything was heightened. Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes or his lips or his rough, bloodied touch from roaming you wherever he could reach, and he kept rutting his hips, assuring you gently, again and again, that it was all okay. He was right here.
The pleasure from the depths of your body was beyond your control—you couldn’t help it when the band inside of you snapped. You held Bucky closer and you moaned, more desperate and needy and soaking for him, taking something from him, and knowing the bliss you felt would only steal the dark thoughts for a moment or two.
Bucky’s eyes said it just the same. He couldn’t keep stuffing you full, feeling his pleasure hit its peak, and finally painting your insides without sharing that look.
You were less than halfway down from your highs when you felt him go still, panting fast, then hold your face.
“I love you.”
It was desperate. Hoping for something.
“I love you, too,” you told him, and you meant it.
But there was more. Both of you knew there was more.
“I can’t be married to you, Bucky.”
You didn’t know why it had to come out now, but the emotions were there—his gaze had all but drawn it out.
Still sheathed inside you, your husband tensed. He looked as if he might try and shake his head, but the movement was stalled by his own momentary shock. He’d known the words were coming, but the sound of you saying them now wasn’t any less jarring to hear. Before he could reply, you found yourself cutting back in:
“Not now, at least. We need some…time. To think.”
You weren’t sure what you were saying, just that your lips were moving and every new word was hurting him more.
“Even with Schröder gone, there are so many…dangers for both—or, all—of us, and I don’t know…I just can’t—”
—imagine bringing a child into a world like this. Like his.
You didn’t need to say it.
The pain in Bucky’s eyes already communicated as much, and the conviction in your own only convinced him that you’d meant it—and what you said was the truth. You couldn’t stay in a marriage that wasn’t safe.
Just as you opened your mouth to say something more, the man surprised you when he squeezed your hand.
Nodding, almost imperceptibly, in front of you.
“I can wait,” he said, “Whenever you’re ready, doll.”
His voice was hoarse, words strained from the lump in his throat as he spoke, but the message was sincere.
“Whenever you feel safe,” he added, softly.
You wanted to hold him again. Like before, your eyes began to well with something stinging and harsh, but the look you’d fixed on him was filled with nothing but love. You would’ve reached for him then, if he hadn’t moved his hand to his pocket. He felt around inside it, briefly.
Then Bucky retrieved your wedding ring.
Holding you up against him, pressed snugly into the counter with your legs still wrapped around his lower half, he pinched the silver band between his forefinger and thumb and held it up to you. It glistened in the light.
“The next time you wear it, I want it to be because you chose to marry me. Not for anything, or anyone, else.”
Nothing arranged, no game, no being forced to stay.
You nodded and had to blink through a layer of tears.
Bucky’s thumb traced the moisture, cupping your cheek in one of his hands. He’d had to keep blinking himself, and before you could reach for him, he kissed you.
“I really hope you marry me again one day, Mrs. Barnes.”
You smiled, having parted but still holding on.
“I think I would like that, too. One day.”
The next thing you heard was a sound at the front door: what sounded like a crash. Half a dozen sets of feet stumbling inside, crowding the foyer, making a loud, frantic clamor that you and Bucky knew only too well. The two of you scrambled to get your clothes back on as Steve, Nat, Sam, and Sharon all seemed to yell at once.
You had one hell of a story to tell them.
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First Snow
pairing; jeon wonwoo x f reader
genre; fluff, angst, smut (minors dni)
warnings; ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, reader has a son, divorce is mentioned, ex-husband, parent of reader mentioned, svt members cameos, eating/drinking, alcohol, slight power imbalance (assistant!reader), unprotected sex, sexual health talk/reader iud, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, teasing, pet names, switch!wonwoo, switch!reader, manhandling (wonwoo can lift the reader), tears of pleasure, scratching, breast play, body worship, begging -- i am sure i am missing something.
w/c; 33k and some change + 1.1k of bonus content exclusive to patreon
a/n; this was a pleasure to write and it certainly got out of hand. i love a good plot. i hope you enjoy it and merry christmas/happy holidays my babes. thank you to @wonwussy for proofreading.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
“Hello?”
Wonwoo rests the phone against his shoulder as he turns in his office chair towards his desk. He had been answering his own phones for the past twenty minutes since you were already running late. It wasn’t usually a common occurrence but lately it has become more frequent.
“I am so sorry. I’m literally in the parking lot, Mr. Jeon. I just have Jacob with me. His babysitter is sick. I’m waiting for someone to get back to me about coming to pick him up.”
Your voice made Wonwoo smile. You were a good assistant and a good mother. He had met your son a few times since you started working for him about two years ago. Shaking his head, Wonwoo glanced out of the glass window that separated his office from the rest of the building and the others already working before he sighed softly.
“Until they can get here, just bring him inside. There’s no reason to sit in your car, Y/N. I’m sure he’s not thrilled sitting in his car seat.”
Wonwoo had no idea how right he was. Three year olds were, in your opinion, worse than the terrible twos. You weren’t even sure who had come up with that bullshit. Jacob’s eyes were red from crying as he clawed at the straps, keeping him safely contained in the seat in your backseat as he pouted at you in the mirror. Yet, the idea of taking him inside and sitting at your desk outside of Wonwoo’s office sounded like a nightmare. Jacob wasn’t the quietest child.
“I couldn’t. He’s–” Like clockwork to put emphasis behind your point, Jacob screams “momma!” and it breaks your heart as big, fat tears stream down his face.
“He’s bored in your car. You can work out of my office with me until someone comes to pick him up. It won’t be a bother. I like Jacob; we’ve always gotten along.”
You can’t help the sigh that slips from your lips. They had always gotten along. Wonwoo had probably met your son a handful of times but it was true that at that time he had a way with kids. It was a shock to you that he didn’t have some of his own. It was a bigger shock that he wasn’t already married, but that wasn’t any of your business.
“Out! Momma? Take shoes off!”
Jacob’s demands make Wonwoo laugh as he sighs, leaning back in his chair and looking at his computer screen. His finger moves over the scroll wheel of his mouse, moving the screen down as he reads every other word. It was cute hearing your little sighs of uncertainty. Everything about you was cute to Wonwoo, though he wasn’t sure it would be very professional to tell you that.
“I–Jacob, calm down. Fine, yes, okay. We will be right up. I’ll catch up on your schedule. Oh, Wo–Mr. Jeon? Call Mr. Kim. I meant to put that on your calendar first thing this morning. He wants to set up a lunch.”
Before he can say anything, the call disconnects, causing Wonwoo to laugh under his breath, feeling his cheeks burning. He had asked you to call him Wonwoo on several occasions, but you insisted that since he was your boss, he deserved respect.
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances towards the window behind him to watch you wrangle your bag and an upset toddler to your hip, along with his things, before you move towards the door. You were amazing. Parents in general were amazing, but there was something about a single parent that made Wonwoo just take a step back in wonder.
He was sure that you had some help. You had mentioned your parents helping you in the past, and other relatives too, but he knew you still did almost everything on your own. Just the simple act of carrying another human and all of those belongings seemed overwhelming to Wonwoo and you did it without a second thought.
Using your badge on your keys, you let yourself into the building, already apologizing as Jacob sniffles back tiny sobs, catching the attention of your co-workers. You hadn’t wanted to bother any of them but especially not Wonwoo. The sheer thought of him drew your eyes up the stairs, where his office door was next to your desk.
“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You know that my Jenny is around the same age. Your little one won’t be a problem.”
Lia’s voice brings your eyes back to her as she smiles at you, moving towards you to offer to help carry something. She had always been so kind to you. Everyone had, and you had really gotten lucky with this job. Everything had fallen apart and you had vowed to Jacob that you’d pull yourself together and figure it out. This job had shown up in the listings and two years later, it was still the best place you had ever worked.
"Thanks, Lia. Oh no… I’ve got it. I have to go upstairs to Mr. Jeon’s office. Jacob is so fussy. He said I could work in there until my mom comes to pick him up.”
A knowing smile spreads across the woman’s lips as she stops and lifts her fingers to brush away Jacob’s tears, causing the small boy to smile at her and grab her fingers like a toy.
“Did he? That’s so nice of him. He’s such a kind boss.”
Sighing, you laugh, letting her pull her hand away from your son carefully so you can start up the stairs and hear her small laughter as you whisper back to her.
“Don’t even start. I’ll text you later.”
Waving at you, Lia returns to her desk but you know she wasn’t the only one to note your words. You had worked hard not to start any rumors about you and Wonwoo. Mainly because there was nothing to talk about. He was just a kind man and there was nothing happening, but that didn’t stop some people from thinking otherwise.
Swallowing hard, you start to knock on Wonwoo’s office door when the door opens just before your knuckles can make contact. He had been watching and waiting for you to make it up the steps.
"Here, let me, uh? I can take this.”
You start to tell him no but Wonwoo takes Jacob’s bag from you before you can tell him otherwise. A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the weight taken off of your arm as you step into the room and hear the door close behind you.
“Thank you. I could have handled it, though.”
Wonwoo just grins, putting the bag onto a leather couch before making his way back towards his desk, choosing to lean against it. You have to look away when your brain screams about how handsome he looks. It was amazing how he could look like the lead in some drama. The hot CEO of a company was just sitting on the end of his desk, about to deliver some profound lines.
“I know you could have, but you don’t have to do it all alone. At least not today. Unless you are just wanting to hold him, I don’t mind if Jacob is down on the floor.” Seeing the look on your face, one of uncertainty as you look around for anything breakable or any uncovered outlets, Wonwoo laughs and continues, “There’s nothing he can mess up. Everything is replaceable, and I babyproofed everything months ago.”
Swallowing hard, you feel Jacob wiggling in your arms to be put down upon hearing his name out of Wonwoo’s mouth. With a sigh, you lean to let him on to the floor, watching him crawl towards the couch and reach for his bag just out of his reach, prompting you to walk towards it, opening it, and handing him his sippy cup.
"Uh, why would you? I mean, why did you babyproof your office? You don’t have a kid of your own? I–shi…I mean, not that I’m aware of. That seemed out of line. I apologize.”
Laughing, Wonwoo watches Jacob with his drink, finding the small boy adorable as he holds both handles and looks up at him with curiosity. Shrugging, Wonwoo finally finds your eyes again before shaking his head and gesturing towards Jacob.
“My assistant has a child. It would be irresponsible of me not to. Even if something like this hadn’t happened, what if we had some other reason for him to be in my office and he wound up hurt because I hadn’t?” Shaking his head again, Wonwoo moves back around his desk, letting out another long sigh. “No, I couldn’t allow that. He’s far too important.”
Smoothing his tie down his abdomen, Wonwoo sits down before looking up at you to find you staring at him as if he had just read you a complex piece of literature. Tilting his head, Wonwoo laughs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before leaning to pick up his phone.
“I’m going to call Mingyu and set up that lunch. Do you want to go get your laptop so you can work from here for a bit? I can watch Jacob while you do.”
Surprised by Wonwoo’s words, you look down at Jacob, who smiles at you, holding his sippy cup up at you before smacking it against the floor and laughing. That would be fine, right? You would just go outside, get the laptop, and do a couple of other things.
“Yeah? Yeah…sure okay. I’ll be right back. Jacob? Momma will be right back. Behave for Mr. Jeon.”
God, what were you even saying? Giving one more look to Wonwoo, you watch him smile as he leans back in his chair. His eyes move to the toddler on his office floor, and his attention splits between him and the phone, allowing you to slip out the door.
Wonwoo shakes his head, a chuckle on his lips, when Jacob babbles a few words before looking up at him and showing him the sippy cup. The phone was ringing, waiting for Kim Mingyu, his best friend and partner, to pick it up.
“Yeah? You got your cup, little man?”
Mingyu smirks a bit, pulling his phone from his ear at Wonwoo’s words, before narrowing his eyes and letting out an amused breath.
“Since when do you call me little man? Do we need to hit the gym together again?”
Wonwoo’s cheeks were burning but he knew that Mingyu was full of shit. He had just picked up at the wrong time. Laughing, he adjusts himself in his seat to follow Jacob as he shakily moves himself to his feet and walks towards his desk, babbling about momma.
“No, shut the hel–shut up. Y/N said you wanted to set up lunch.” Distracted, Wonwoo leans to watch as Jacob moves around the desk, grabbing at his pants and offering him his sippy cup, trying to pull himself up into his lap. “I–momma will be right back. Do you need—? Hang on, Mingyu.”
Confused, Mingyu just laughs, walking towards his office and offering a wink to his own assistant before closing the door behind him as he listens to Wonwoo. The sound of shuffling and then the same toddler he had thought he had heard in the background makes Mingyu stop in his tracks before he even reaches his desk.
“Alright, as I was saying—"
“Dude, do you have a kid right now?”
Wonwoo smiles at Jacob, who smacks his sippy cup on Wonwoo’s desk before he sighs and nods to answer Mingyu before doing it out loud.
“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s son. She’s getting her laptop so she can—” Realizing the details of that weren’t important, Wonwoo just sighs again and laughs, reaching up to smooth Jacob’s hair and trying to change the subject. "Lunch. When do you want to get lunch?”
Dropping his briefcase on to his desk, Mingyu scoffs, trying to imagine his best friend with a baby but then hearing who’s baby it was makes it all make sense.
“Ah, Y/N’s son. So is it “bring your hot assistant’s kid to work day” at your office?”
Scowling at Mingyu’s words, Wonwoo looks towards the door, afraid you will overhear him. He had kept it professional with you as much as he could, but that didn’t mean that he had drunkenly mentioned his crush on you to Mingyu once or twice. And clearly, his best friend was an asshole who wasn’t going to let him live it down.
“No, shut up. She was in a bind; someone should be coming to get him in a bit. Can we stay on track?”
Mingyu purses his lips, sliding into his chair with a relaxed groan, a smile playing at his lips. He could get used to hearing Wonwoo flustered. Wonwoo might remember just a couple times talking about his “crush” on you, but Mingyu recalled multiple times of Wonwoo detailing his wish for a life with you. This was serious.
"Yeah, sure. Make you a deal? We can get lunch tomorrow and go to our usual spot. I’ll pay as long as you ask the hot little milf out.”
That was it—the last straw. Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo pulls the phone from his ear and hits end, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time he talked to Mingyu today. The man was like an annoying little brother he could never get rid of.
Balancing your laptop and a mug of coffee, you use the toe of your shoe to open Wonwoo’s door, only to stop in your tracks when you see Jacob sitting in his lap. A quick train of thoughts races through your head. One: Oh my god, what if Jacob spills something on his suit? Two: Oh my god, he looks so handsome with a kid in his lap, especially your kid. And three: just, oh my god.
“I was gone too long. You didn’t have to pick him up. He’s clingy.”
Now you were rambling. Moving into the room quickly, you place your laptop at the end of Wonwoo’s desk before letting him take the mug of coffee from you with an appreciative smile.
“He’s just fine and you weren’t gone too long. You didn’t make yourself a cup of coffee?”
Glancing at the laptop and the mug, you laugh just as Wonwoo does before he slides his cup towards you and Jacob lifts his cup towards Wonwoo’s mouth.
“I can get another in a few minutes. Sit down and get settled for a few minutes. You’ve been running from the moment you woke up, it seems.” Glancing down at the toddler and the cup, Wonwoo laughs, taking it and pretending to drink from it before offering it back to Jacob, who giggles. “Thank you, buddy. See, I can share with him.”
Sliding into the chair, you take a breath while watching him with Jacob. It seemed so natural and easy for him. You shouldn’t enjoy watching your boss with your son so much. Shaking your head, you clear your throat and open the laptop before bringing the mug to your lips and taking a sip of the coffee, letting it warm your throat and chest. The caffeine is a welcome hit to your system as you watch the device in front of you power up.
“Mm, oh. My mom will be here in about less than an hour to get Jacob. Thank you for being so patient and kind about this.”
Wonwoo nods, a smile on his lips as he looks over your pretty face. He could see you were tired and yet you always managed to look so put together at the office. He wished there was a way to help you out and let you get the rest you needed but yet he had a feeling that if he gave you time off, you’d just use it to do something else productive.
“It’s really not a problem. I talked to Mingyu. Can you put a midday lunch on my schedule for tomorrow? Also, once things are up and running, could we go over what I have for the day?”
Wonwoo watches you switch into assistant mode, the mug back onto a coaster on his desk. You cross your legs, drawing his attention unknowingly to your thighs as your skirt hugs them perfectly.
“Do you want to start with what you have first? I can already see things are going to overlap after lunch. We will need to reschedule your meeting with Mr. Hwon. I can do that easily; his assistant is easy to work with.”
The hour passed too quickly for Wonwoo’s liking. Jacob had found his way back onto the floor, and you had given him some toys from his bag to play with as the two of you worked as if nothing was different. Wonwoo was beginning to enjoy having you in the same room as him instead of having to call for you either through the door or to send you a message. Besides, the view was much better than usual.
When you make a sound of surprise looking at your phone, Wonwoo looks up from his computer again to watch you stand up and move around to collect Jacob’s things. Your mom must be outside. It almost made him sad to know things were going to go back to normal so quickly. Sighing softly, Wonwoo slides out of his chair and around his desk to offer his assistance, causing you to laugh and shake your head.
“I–oh, Mr. Jeon. I’m okay. I will just run him downstairs and be right back up. Say bye bye to Mr. Jeon, Jacob.”
Pouting, Jacob looks up at you and then at the tall man before babbling about his shoes. Wonwoo can’t help but smile, noticing one of the pieces of velcro had come undone, making it probably uncomfortable for the toddler.
“Bye bye, Jacob. Here, let me fix it. Is that better?”
You can feel your heart tightening once again as Wonwoo kneels down to adjust the velcro on Jacob’s shoe, making the little boy smile. Nodding, Jacob babbles bye bye a few times, moving to hug Wonwoo’s leg and Wonwoo can only close his eyes. It was his turn for his heart to feel heavy. He liked this kid.
“Have fun with your grandmother.”
“Nana…”
“Ah, with your nana.”
With your quick correction, Wonwoo laughs and ruffles Jacob’s hair before watching you pick him up and leave the room. He was in trouble. He wanted to see you like this again. Something more casual, and he wanted to see Jacob again.
Outside, you lean into your mother’s car, adjusting the straps over Jacob’s chest and waist as he babbles about his cup and toys before finally landing on Jeon. Your mother’s brow lifts in curiosity as she tries to hide her smile, but fails when you meet her eyes and shake your head.
“Stop it; don’t even start with me. He hears me say my boss's name all the time, and we were just upstairs. I told him to say bye bye to Mr. Jeon. He’s learning new words all the time.”
Nodding, your mom leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before laughing against your warm skin. All she wanted was for you to be happy and you had been happier than you ever had in the past few months. Things seemed to be finding a normal pace but she still wanted you to find someone to settle down with, but all you ever seemed to do was work and talk about Mr. Jeon.
“I didn’t say a thing, darling. We will see you after work. Have a good day. I love you.”
Muttering that you love her back, you then turn to Jacob to tell him how much you love him and beg him to behave. It isn’t until he realizes that he is leaving you that he starts to pout and cry, making your heart hurt as you have to go back upstairs and work.
Giving Wonwoo a courtesy knock on his office door, you slide back in, offering him a sad smile before moving to the laptop to start to collect your things. His eyes move over you curiously as he tilts his head.
“You okay?”
Nodding, you laugh softly, pulling your purse onto your shoulder as he stands watching you move so closely that it makes you feel like the room is smaller.
“Oh yeah. It was just hard to see him crying after spending more time with him today. I’m fine, though. I’ll get to my desk and get back to work. Again, thanks for accommodating me today.”
Wonwoo wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to go back to your desk but he knew that working from a corner of his wasn’t ideal. The chair you had been sitting in wasn’t good for your back and as much as he wanted to keep sneaking peeks at you, this was work.
“Of course. Really wasn’t a big deal. Thank you for…you know. Being great at your job.”
Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but laugh under your breath at Wonwoo’s wording. He was usually so well spoken, but that was a bit clumsy and almost as if he were flustered. Biting at your bottom lip a bit, you just smile and lower your head before leaving his office, letting Wonwoo catch his breath.
Maybe it was getting a later start in your day or the fact that you were desperately trying to keep yourself busy so that you’d stop trying to sneak peeks at Wonwoo, but the end of the day came quickly. Sighing softly, you send one last text to your mom, letting her know you’d be on your way soon when Wonwoo’s voice pulls you out of your little world and back to reality.
“Have a good evening, Y/N.”
You smile at Wonwoo, whispering for him to do the same, when he bites at his lips, stopping and turning back towards you, pointing with his briefcase in your direction. The action makes you laugh and tilt your head. Had he forgotten to tell you something or had he forgotten something in his office? Glancing over your shoulder, you start to speak when he beats you to the punch.
“Are you busy this Saturday evening?”
Wonwoo watches you look from his office door and down to your desk. Your eyes were wide and you looked like you had seen a ghost. He hadn’t even said why he was curious but he knew you weren’t an idiot.
“I–well…”
Jacob…fuck. You have a kid. Wonwoo thought to himself, thinking he was such an idiot for even bringing it up without giving you much time to prep for his question.
“Probably right? Stuff with Jacob?”
You shake your head and Wonwoo’s head tilts curiously this time. No? That was different. To be fair, Wonwoo wasn’t sure what you really did on weekends.
"Actually, he will be with his dad this weekend. He gets him once a week... Why are you asking?”
Right, he would need to answer that question. Wonwoo could feel his palm go sweaty around the handle of his briefcase the moment you answered the question. Licking his lips, Wonwoo reaches up to scratch the back of his neck with his free hand, offering you a smile.
“I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to get dinner and drinks. Especially if you have the night free."
Your boss was asking you out. That wasn’t something your brain was making up, was it? Looking past Wonwoo to make sure no one else had heard him, you take note that at least no one was in ear range when you let out a nervous laugh.
“I–is that appropriate? I mean…fuc–” Swallowing hard, you take a break to recenter yourself before meeting Wonwoo’s eyes to find him grinning at you. “You are my boss…”
Wonwoo knew who he was and who you were. He already knew there were rumors about him dating you swirling around the office, so it wouldn’t be like he was doing something to shock anyone and there were no rules that said he couldn’t.
“I don’t find it inappropriate. I mean, if you do, we can forget that I asked. I just didn’t want to miss out on this brief moment of bravery that I had and not ask you out.”
His words cause your head to spin. He had to work up the courage to ask you out. Him? Be brave enough to ask you? In what world did any of that make sense? Smiling, you bite at your bottom lip as you fiddle with a few papers on your desk out of nerves before daring to look at Wonwoo again and shrugging.
“I don’t really want to forget that you asked.”
A small laugh escapes Wonwoo’s lips at your words. What did that mean? Did that mean yes? You’d go? Stepping towards your desk, Wonwoo watches you take in a breath. He finds himself wondering, if he touched your cheek, if it would be warm with how you were acting.
“Does that mean you’ll go out with me?”
When you nod, Wonwoo grins and looks down, reaching up to push his glasses up his nose and clearing his throat. He needed to keep his cool. It was just dinner and drinks. It wasn’t like he had asked you to marry him and you had said yes or something. He wasn’t some high schooler asking a girl to the prom. He was the CEO of a multimillion dollar company asking his incredibly attractive assistant out on a date, and she had said yes.
“Great. I’ll see you in the morning, Y/N. Have a good evening.”
You whisper out the same to Wonwoo, watching him jog down the steps before he gets to the door, leaving enough space between him and you that you feel like you can let out the breath you had been holding. It comes out with a small squeal as you lean forward on your desk, a smile on your lips, finding everything that had just happened to be unbelievable.
Pulling into the parking lot next to the matte black Lamborghini, Wonwoo shakes his head at how ostentatious the car seems. Putting his own car into park, he sighs, hitting the lock button on his keyfob, noting that he didn’t have much he could really say. His own Mercedes wasn’t that much better, but at least he wasn’t driving a Lambo.
When he had been in university, he and Mingyu had swore to one another that they would make it. At the time, they weren’t even sure what that meant. Earning business degrees and keeping their heads down for a few years had been the first step, but quickly they had both learned the ropes and now they were two of the most influential people in the business world.
What had started as a pipe dream of two sleep deprived broke university students became a hard earned reality. Each was now the CEO of their own company, in charge of dozens of employees, and making 7 figure salaries a year.
Wonwoo kept himself a bit more grounded than Mingyu, but he couldn’t blame the younger man for enjoying his wealth just a little here and there with things that he loved, like cars. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s money was invested and while his car was nice, his true wealth could be seen in his choice of house and accessories.
Walking into the restaurant, Wonwoo glances at the Roger Dubuis watch on his wrist, pursing his lips. He wasn’t late but he hated leaving the office, but mostly you, as the phones were persistent today. You had told him to go enjoy his lunch, despite him offering to take you along.
“Mr. Kim said this was a leisure lunch, Mr. Jeon. You don’t need your assistant for that.”
He wanted to punch Mingyu for telling you that. Couldn’t he play it off as a business lunch? He was the one who wanted him to ask you out in the first place. Sighing, Wonwoo simply offers a nod to the hostess, who directs him to Mingyu, already seated at their usual table.
“You could at least look happy to see me…”
Mingyu smirks as Wonwoo sits down across from him. Their chosen restaurant was familiar; not only did they visit often but being friends with the owner had it’s perks.
“Just been a long morning. I am happy to see you. Has Junhui been out to the table yet?”
Shaking his head, Mingyu shifts in his chair, studying Wonwoo. Something was on his mind and he wasn’t as open as some of their other friends when it came to sharing their feelings.
“No, apparently he’s already making our food. We don’t get to pick.”
Scoffing, Wonwoo scoots the useless menu away from him before leaning to pick up the glass of water meant for him and taking a long sip.
“Sounds like Junhui. Whatever he serves us will be delicious anyway.” Clearing his throat, Wonwoo swipes his finger across a bead of condensation on his glass, looking down at it as he speaks. “Y/N told me this was a leisure lunch. You have something on your mind you want to talk about?”
There it was. Mingyu knew Wonwoo would get around to the reason he looked like there was a stick up his ass eventually, and this time he didn’t even have to try. Pursing his lips, Mingyu tilts his head, scooting one of his legs out under the table as he sighs. In truth, there hadn’t been a reason for the lunch. He had just missed his friend and tried to make it a weekly occasion to meet for a meal but Wonwoo made it harder and harder every week.
“Do I need to have something on my mind? Do you have something on yours?” Offering Wonwoo a smile when he receives a dirty look in return, Mingyu can’t help the chuckle that follows. “We should see if Junhui can whip something up for Y/N that you can take back to the office for her.”
That wasn’t a horrible idea but Wonwoo’s only reaction is to lift his brows and sit down the glass of water in his hand. He hadn’t told Mingyu that he had asked you out yet. The silence becoming deafening Wonwoo is pleased to hear the familiar voice of Junhui drawing his and Mingyu’s attention.
“The coconut chicken for Wonwoo and the huang men ji for Mingyu.”
Food sat in front of him. Wonwoo grins at the bowl of food. It was simple but it smelled like comfort. Mingyu laughs while standing up to hug the man they had both known for the better part of a decade before Wonwoo does the same.
“You didn’t come by last week. I thought you didn’t like my food anymore.”
Wonwoo feels an instant pang of guilt at Junhui’s words. He knew it was his fault that he and Mingyu hadn’t come by. He had cancelled their lunch at the last minute because of business but Mingyu is quick to cover for him like always.
“You know that’s not true. Just some work bullshit got in the way. He’d live out of this place if he could. Wonwoo would sit in your kitchen and let you make him ramyeon or sweet and spicy chicken.”
Seeing Junhui smile the way he did after Mingyu spoke was truly a gift. Mingyu was always good at making people happy and being genuine. He was a bit of an ass sometimes but at the root of it all, he was a good person.
“Well, I just hope you enjoy lunch today. I’d stay and chat more but you know how hectic lunch can be. Let one of the servers know if you need anything."
Taking a breath into his words, Wonwoo stumbles on the first before finally meeting Junhui’s eyes, making the man stop in his tracks.
“Actu–actually…Could you, you know, if you aren’t incredibly busy, make something for my assistant? I want to take her some lunch back to the office.”
Mingyu grins, looking down at his food, at how Wonwoo stumbles over his words and at how he has taken his advice. Maybe that wasn’t the only time he had taken it?
Junhui simply smiles and furrows his brows, trying to remember your name, before nodding. “For Y/N, right? No problem. I’ll have it ready before you all finish.”
Nodding, Wonwoo looks down at his food, unwilling to meet Junhui’s or Mingyu’s eyes just yet. It isn’t until Mingyu clears his throat, shirting in his chair to pick up his chopsticks and then a piece of chicken that Wonwoo looks up, meeting his eyes.
“Don’t say it.”
Mingyu smirks, the chicken almost against his lips, before he shakes his head, pausing to speak before taking the first bite.
“I didn’t say a thing.”
Wonwoo groans, picking up his chopsticks and a piece of his chicken and eating it with more force than necessary. Mingyu didn’t have to say anything; he was saying it all with a look on his face.
“The chicken isn’t going to fight back, Wonwoo. Why are you so defensive when Y/N is mentioned? By the way, you brought her up with time. I was going to wait until at least dessert.”
He knew he was being ridiculous about you. He was almost 30 years old. There was no reason for Wonwoo to be acting like some teenager afraid of a crush but you made him feel that way. Especially when he considered everything about your life and how he wanted to make it better for you and Jacob. He had never even considered children until you showed up and started working for him.
“I–I don’t know. She makes me nervous.”
That much Mingyu knew. Everyone in a ten mile radius could see that. Taking another bite of his food, Mingyu licks his lips and lets out a breath, appreciating the taste before wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“It’s not like she knows you like her. You won’t even ask her –”
“I did ask her out.”
The surprise is evident on Mingyu’s face as Wonwoo confesses to asking you out on a date. He is proud and impressed but also a sinking feeling of nervousness takes over him as he tries to read Wonwoo’s face before finally just biting the bullet and asking the question he needed the answer to.
“And? What did she say?”
Wonwoo tries to hide his smile but it only ends up making it harder to keep his lips from turning up at the corners. Glancing down at his food, he licks his lips and shrugs before meeting Mingyu’s eyes, narrowing his own as if the words might backfire on him.
“She said yes.”
Tossing his chopsticks to the table, Mingyu reaches over to smack Wonwoo’s arm harder than necessary, causing the slightly smaller man to grimace at the shock of the hit.
“Fuck yeah, man. I knew she would. I mean, why wouldn’t she? What’s the plan?” Rambling, Mingyu suddenly thinks of your son and his eyes widen, cutting Wonwoo off before he can answer, “What about the kid? You aren’t taking him on the first date, right? Surely someone can keep him?”
“Can I speak now?” Getting a nod from Mingyu, Wonwoo watches him pick up his chopsticks, going back to his food as he grins at the younger man fondly. Mingyu was always excitable, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but indulge him.
“I haven’t decided on a place to have dinner yet but I have some options. I’m surprised she said yes. She was concerned because I’m her employer.” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo furrows his brows before shrugging and pushing around his rice. “She said Jacob will be with his dad this weekend so Saturday is a good time.”
Sitting up straight like a puppy that had heard a new word, Mingyu tilts his head and blinks a few times at Wonwoo. That was the first time he had heard anything about your ex. I mean, it made sense. It took two to make a kid but he had just assumed the guy was completely out of the picture.
“Dad? Do we have a name? How close are they?”
Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo picks up a bite of his food, chewing it before even trying to answer Mingyu. He knew what he was trying to do and while he appreciated it. He didn’t need Seungcheol to do a background check on your ex.
“Yes, Jacob’s father. I don’t know his name; I didn’t ask and she didn’t offer it. I have no idea how close they are but they share a child, Mingyu.” Sighing, Wonwoo meets Mingyu’s eyes, seeing the incredulous look in them, before adding, “But they are also not together so I can assume they are not terribly close.”
Mingyu wasn’t thrilled with Wonwoo’s answer but he figured that if his friend changed his mind, he could do some digging in the meantime. He did have a point, if there was a good relationship there, you and your ex would be raising Jacob together in the same home.
“Fine, I won’t call Cheol…yet. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo picks up another bite of food, sighing heavily before laughing humorlessly into his words.
“I can promise you, I will not change my mind.”
The rest of lunch was as normal as possible. Beyond Mingyu offering date options and letting Wonwoo borrow his car for the date, it was back to their normal topics of conversation before Junhui joined them for the last part of the meal. Desserts were served and a takeaway container sat beside Wonwoo. Junhui grinned at Wonwoo suspiciously before Mingyu filled him in on the “good news” about the upcoming date.
“I’m happy for you, Wonwoo. You need to date more often. It’s been months since you’ve even tried. All I’ve even heard about is Y/N since she started working for you and no one comes close to your standard of Y/N.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Wonwoo could only smile sheepishly. Junhui wasn’t wrong. You were not someone that most people could dream of living up to and no other woman came close.
“I..I just want to see where it goes. I’m not going to force it. I know she will have Jacob on her mind.”
Junhui nods, his fingers running over the tablecloth under them as he listens to his friend talk. He could tell how important this was to Wonwoo and he wanted it to work for his sake.
“Then just tell her how you feel and what you want. It seems to work out in books and movies.”
Laughing, Mingyu just shrugs when Junhui shoots him a look. It wasn’t that he was wrong but it was the fact that he was sourcing books and movies as his knowledge bank. Wonwoo just smiles fondly at his friend and nods before leaning back to sigh into a groan. He needed to go back to work now. He wanted to see you and give you lunch but already the butterflies were fighting for space in his stomach.
“Thanks, both of you, and Junhui, for the food. Ours and Y/N’s.”
Mingyu echoes Wonwoo’s words before hugs are exchanged, along with more well wishes. Wonwoo finds himself wondering when they had gotten to the age where this was the topic of lunch conversation and not the next kegger. Either way, he didn’t mind as he held your food in his hands, heading for his car, willing the butterflies to calm down.
Watching Wonwoo as he raised the spoon of cereal to his mouth, Mingyu smirked and shook his head. It was the fourth jacket his friend had put on and taken off before even waiting for his opinion. That had been his entire purpose for being here—well, and to raid Wonwoo’s pantry but mostly emotional support.
Wonwoo had been stressed out over this date the entire week. You had noticed his being a bit more awkward than normal, including offering you the food after his lunch with Mingyu by clearing his throat and all but dropping the box into your hands.
He wasn’t trying to make this harder than it needed to be but you were important. No other woman had made him feel like this. It wasn’t the fact that you had a kid; that didn’t even phase Wonwoo, even though he had many other friends who thought it was a red flag or a reason not to pursue you, no matter how attractive you were. He had quickly shut them down, reminding them to mind their business.
“I–fuck. What about this one?”
Mingyu wipes his lips with his thumb tilting his head, his eyes narrowing at the mirror in front of Wonwoo. The jacket looked suspiciously like one he had put on three jackets before and he remembered telling him it looked sharp.
“Isn’t that the same one as before? Look at the tag. Did you buy out Dior? Do you own the entire collection in that pattern?”
Scoffing, Wonwoo pulls on the lapels of the jacket before reaching up to adjust his glasses and sweep the curls of his brown hair from his forehead before he mutters under his breath.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Smiling, Mingyu shrugs, sitting the bowl aside so he can stand up and move towards Wonwoo, smacking his shoulder and sending the man forward a step.
“I’m trying to get you to lighten up, man. You look good. You look classy. I know you wanna impress her but I don’t think you have to try so hard.”
Wonwoo knew Mingyu was probably right but he didn’t want to ruin this and lose his chance with you. If he tried too hard, he might scare you off, but if he didn’t try hard enough, you might think he thought you were just every other woman. There was a fine line, and Wonwoo had to walk it like a tightline.
“Yeah, maybe.” Swiping his phone from his dresser, Wonwoo checks his email, confirming his reservations and making Mingyu laugh once again. Hissing out an annoyed sound, Wonwoo pushes back his elbow into his friend’s ribs, hearing the taller man grunt before taking a step back and putting up his hands in submission. “I get that I don’t have to try so hard but I’m going to. She…deserves it.”
The last of Wonwoo’s words are quieter, as if he says them too loudly, it might give too much away. He worked with you almost every single day and yet he hated having to say goodbye to you when 5 o’clock rolled around. Wonwoo felt like there was something else on the tip of his tongue as he watched you smile up at him and finish the last of your tasks as he glanced back at you, his briefcase in hand.
Pursing his lips at Wonwoo’s words, Mingyu crosses his arms and studies the man. He was whipped and there was no other way of putting it. He had known he was falling for you about two weeks after Wonwoo hired you. He had listened to call after call about the wonderful new assistant that Wonwoo had found and how it all just seemed to work. Mingyu remembered thinking even then that that wasn’t how you spoke about your employees, no matter how wonderful they were. That was how you spoke about someone you were falling in love with.
“Hey, I’m not saying shit, man. I support you, and I support this. You are as happy as I have seen you in a long time.”
Taking a breath, Wonwoo slips his phone into his pocket and shakes his head at Mingyu’s words. He didn’t disagree with them per se; he just didn’t know how to feel about them or even what to say in response to them. Mingyu wasn’t wrong. He was happy and he was excited. For once, he felt like there was possibility.
Smoothing your dress down at your sides, you slide into the chair at your vanity, already feeling your leg bouncing under the table. You could hear Jacob just behind you talking to his toy about his juice but your mind was still a blur. You couldn’t help but glance away at your own reflection in the mirror.
This was the first time you had dressed up like this besides work dinners and even then, you didn’t dare try to be anything anyone would consider sexy or bordering on it. You were a mom. That was your first job—the most important job.
“Momma, ‘ook!”
Drawing your attention from your thoughts, Jacob’s excited words cause you to turn in your chair to look at him as he picks up the car in front of him, making something that sounds between a roar and an exhaust.
“Wow, you are so cool. What is that, baby?”
Looking down at his toy, Jacob giggles, pushing the wheels with his fingers, before smiling at you with a smile that melts your heart.
“Car!”
Nodding, you can’t help but laugh and clap, encouraging him before Jacob keeps repeating the word over and over again to show you he knew it for sure. You knew he was smart but speech had been a bit difficult for him in the beginning. You had a hard time not blaming yourself or the situation; stress, change—kids were so resilient and yet fragile. So when he started to pick up more and more words—full sentences—no matter how broken they were, you couldn’t help but feel your heart get fuller with pride.
Watching Jacob for a moment longer, you rest your chin on your arm before letting out a soft, slow breath. You were excited and nervous for your date with Wonwoo but you always dreaded anything new. Just like you always dreaded any time you had apart from Jacob, you knew it was something you needed to get used to and it wasn’t like you didn’t want his dad to have a relationship with him. You were just attached. It was hard not to be when he was the most important person in your life.
Finally, turning back to the mirror, you get the courage to look into it, meeting your own reflection. You could tell you were tired. You knew you needed the break. Working a full time job and taking care of a toddler wasn’t easy. Reaching for your concealer, you dab a bit under your eyes, pursing your lips as you use a brush to blend it in with the rest of your makeup. You couldn’t get more sleep but at least you could attempt to hide how much sleep you hadn’t had.
When the doorbell rang, Jacob squealed in excitement. Not even knowing who was at the door, your son was always excited to see anyway. You knew you needed to teach him more about stranger danger but there was something beautiful and whimsical about seeing a child so eager and loving to meet someone.
His little feet hitting the carpet and then hardwood, Jacob calls for you as he reaches the door, only to smack at it, trying to figure out how to open it when he hears the voice on the other side.
“Is that my buddy?”
“Dadda! Dadda! Momma, dadda’s here!”
You had been trying to watch the time but 4 o’clock had snuck up on you. Biting your lip, you struggle with your bracelet, hurrying towards the door to unlock it and usher Jacob back all while trying not to drop the delicate gold chain around your arm as your ex-husband moves into the house.
Flinging his arms around his dad’s legs, Jacob giggles as he feels his fingers brush over his head. Your ex, Daniel, grins, muttering another hi to his son before finally giving you an appraising look and letting out a low whistle.
Rolling your eyes, you feel your cheeks warm at his attention. There were no longer romantic feelings between the two of you but you were both lucky that a friendship had remained. It had been easier than anticipated after the divorce to be close for Jacob’s sake and to actually be there for one another when each of you needed it.
Daniel laughs at your reaction, watching your fingers struggle with the bracelet before he reaches out to help with the tiny clasp, earning himself a small thank you. Shrugging, the man simply offers you another smile before leaning down to pick up Jacob with a groan, pretending that he hurt his back.
“Don’t mention it. You, however, can. Are you eating all the vegetables? You are twice as big as last week!”
Smiling fondly, you watch Jacob giggle as his dad kisses his cheeks, your son holding on to the man like an anchor. Stepping to the side, you allow him to move further into the house with Jacob as the boy babbles about his car, making your ex glance at you, noting the new word as you just smile and nod.
“Car huh? Dadda has a cool car, you know. Momma doesn’t let me bring it to pick you up but I’ll show you when we get home. It’s not as cool as yours but it’s close.”
You roll your eyes again, letting out a scoff that cues Daniel to smirk at you. His eyes once again move over you before he lifts his brow, letting Jacob down to play as he watches you gather the last of his things, putting them into his bag.
“It is a nice car. You used to like it when we’d go out on the town. Speaking of –”
Looking up quickly, you watch Daniel lift his hands at the look on your face. Another laugh slips from his lips before you zip Jacob’s bag, offering it to him.
“Your car is dumb, just like you. I–yes I’m going out. Do I look…you know?”
Narrowing his eyes playfully at the comment about his car being dumb, Daniel lets it go instead, choosing to focus on what you had said next. Shaking his head, he takes a step back, giving you another once over before letting out a breath. He might be your ex-husband and your friend but he had eyes and there were very good reasons he had been attracted to you in the first place, besides your amazing wit.
“You look hot. You said “going out?” Out as in…”
Groaning, you narrow your eyes at the man as he smirks at you. He was worse than your girlfriends when it came to things like this. He was worse than your mother and that was saying something. You knew things with Daniel were good and that what had been there had ended long before the divorce had even been finalized, but there were times like this when you started to talk to him about a man you were going to go on a date with that you felt like you were talking to your husband again.
“Just…out. With someone, a friend.”
Not believing you, Daniel glances towards Jacob as he pretends to run the car over the couch cushion, making the same car noise he had for you. The sound brings a smile to his lips but it’s short lived as the attention is brought back to you. He wanted you to be happy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dated or wasn’t currently dating. You should do the same, even if you have primary custody of Jacob.
“A friend? A man? Y/N? Are you going on a date? Why are you so afraid to tell me?” Scoffing softly, Daniel leans against the kitchen counter next to him, studying you as you look down almost in shame before he reaches up to hold your shoulder as he talks. “Why in the hell would I be mad that you are trying to be happy? I’m not an asshole."
Fighting the tears that were threatening to well up in your eyes, you shrug as Daniel leans down ever so slightly to meet your eyes fully. His smile is genuine as he watches you try to keep your composure.
“Y/N, we have a cool ass kid. We didn’t work married but we work as friends. I’m not going to tell you that you can’t find a man who will love you like you deserve.”
Closing your eyes, you laugh but the tears fall to your cheeks, causing Daniel to sigh apologetically. He reached up with his thumbs to delicately push them off your face, knowing that you had probably worked hard on your make up.
“Don’t cry; I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Momma cry! Don’t be sad, momma. I’m ‘ere. I love you.”
Feeling Jacob trying to climb your legs causes your heart to tighten in your chest. Daniel laughs a bit, trying to calm him down, trying to tell him you are okay. Your son doesn’t listen, too concerned about you, until you reach down to pick him up, letting the little boy look at your face. His small hand moves over your face with less care than his father as he tries to help with your tears, before he leans in to kiss the corner of your lips and cheek.
“You love a lot of people, Y/N. You teach him to love people fiercely so he loves you just as hard.”
Daniel’s words make you smile as you lean your forehead to rest it against Jacob’s, whispering that you love him and that you are okay. Your son smiles, running his fingers over your cheek again, checking for more tears. He's happy when he can’t find any more.
“Momma’s okay, bud. She’s gonna have a good night with a friend. Me and you are gonna stay up late and eat pancakes.”
Jacob gasps at hearing his dad’s words, glancing back at him and babbling about pancakes, making you laugh, and letting him wiggle his way over to his arms.
“Thanks, Daniel.”
Shrugging, you watch him lean his head against Jacob’s, his eyes mirroring your sons and making your heart warm.
“No problem. Text me later and let me know how the date goes. I’ll send you pictures of him later but I won’t bother you too much. Don’t wanna interrupt. I want you to have fun and actually enjoy a night out.”
Agreeing to the text and promising to at least try to relax, you walk your ex-husband and son to the door, kissing Jacob’s forehead once more before watching the two of them leave, knowing it was going to be a long couple of days before he would be back with you.
Checking his watch at 6:45, Wonwoo looks at the outside of your house before pulling into the driveway. He knew he was a little early but he had a habit of it. You couldn’t be late if you were early. It has always worked for him thus far.
Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo straightens his chosen jacket of the night and takes the first step towards your front door. It wasn’t that long of a driveway but by the time he made it there, he felt like he had been walking for an hour, despite checking his watch to see that it was now only 6:47. He was letting his nerves get the best of him.
Wonwoo could hear Mingyu’s voice echoing in his head even as he lifted his hand to the doorbell and waited for you, wondering if you would change your mind. Stay calm, man. Don’t try too hard. You look like you have a stick up your ass. Wonwoo did not, in fact, have a stick up his ass. He was just nervous. So fucking nervous.
You had heard the vehicle pull into the driveway so you couldn’t really explain the dread that was in your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring. You knew it was Wonwoo and you were excited, but you were also terrified. You had spent an hour cleaning up everything he could possibly see from at least the front door and even if he were to come into the kitchen, but as you walked towards the door you let out a squeal when you see another toy, picking it up and putting it behind your back before pulling the door open.
He smiled, his brows furrowing at the sound he had heard behind your closed door. Wonwoo can’t help but tilt his head in concern before he finally gets a good look at you and loses his resolve. You were stunning. He had seen you in business professional clothes and even a nicer dress for a work dinner but this... you looked amazing.
“I–wow. Hey.”
Your cheeks are burning, and you feel a bit confused as you hold the small toy behind your back, balancing your toes on the hardwood next to your other foot as you look at Wonwoo in your doorway. He looked amazing. He always did. He looked expensive, but you knew that he was. You weren’t a complete idiot. That was another reason that this was all making you so nervous. Your life was nothing compared to his.
“Hi, I mean… hello, Mr. Je–”
“Oh…no please. Don’t call me that tonight. I told you at work, just Wonwoo. It would be so strange to hear you call me that on a date.”
A date. Yeah, you were going on a date with your boss. Fuck, your stomach was churning. Swallowing hard, you offer Wonwoo a smile before looking down and stepping to the side to let him step in. The air was crisp and your heat was already kicking on.
“Come in… I need to get my jacket and, uh, shoes.”
Smiling as he steps inside, Wonwoo glances around, thinking that your house was perfectly you but it lacked all the things that he had expected when it came to Jacob. He had expected toys to be lying around and perhaps shoes in the entryway. Things he had seen in his own childhood home growing up but it appeared you either kept an incredibly kept house, or you had cleaned up prior to his arrival.
“I know I’m a bit early. Kinda sad I won’t see Jacob today.”
Watching you back away from him, Wonwoo watches your hand slide from behind you to in front, making him grin when he sees the toy in it that you had been trying to hide from him. So you had just cleaned, and that made him feel a bit better.
Nodding along with his words, you toss the toy into a basket before moving to slide your feet into your heels as Wonwoo watches you. His eyes are moving along your frame with interest before he stops at your face, listening to every word you have to say.
“I’m sure he will stumble back into your life unceremoniously in the near future because my life is a mess. Uh, but his dad came and got him a few hours ago.”
Wonwoo chuckles at your wording but he can’t help but enjoy the idea of Jacob and you both stumbling into his life. He didn’t mind it and he didn’t feel that he ever would. Glancing at the jacket on a hook near him as you start towards it. Wonwoo makes a sound, drawing your attention to him before he takes your jacket down and holds it open for you, surprising you.
Carefully sliding your arms into your jacket, you step backwards, careful not to get too close to Wonwoo but no matter how much you try not to, you can still feel the warmth of his body close to yours as he situates the jacket on your shoulders.
“Thanks…”
With a small smile on his lips, Wonwoo takes a step back, letting you grab your purse and offering you a nod in response. To him, it hadn’t been anything special, just something he wanted to do, but to you, it had been the beginning of something special.
“No problem. I have reservations for us at 8 o'clock; it’s a bit of a drive so I hope you won’t mind.”
Wonwoo watches as you shake your head. You seemed shy and sweet. Not that you didn’t give off a similar vibe most days but today it was different. You were reserved and Wonwoo knew that it might take just a little bit of time and some conversation to get you past what you were holding on to about him being your boss.
Walking you to his car, Wonwoo surprises you once again by joining you at the passenger's side door and pulling it open for you. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had men do chivalrous things for you in the past. It wasn’t even that Daniel hadn’t done similar things for you; it was the fact that it was Wonwoo. It was the fact that he was one of Forbes 30 under 30 and he was treating you like the most important person in the world at the moment.
Sliding into the Mercedes, you let your fingers glide over the leather seat, enjoying the soft feeling before you reach for the seatbelt as Wonwoo closes the door and makes his way around to get in beside you. He was already enjoying having this extra time with you. Neither of you needed to say a thing but one look in your direction granted him a sweet smile that melted Wonwoo’s heart.
He could see you glancing around the car as he drove. Your fingers are moving nervously in your lap on top of your purse. You were possibly more nervous than he was and that was saying something. Reaching out towards the radio, Wonwoo turns it on, letting it play quietly so perhaps that will help you feel less awkward before he lets out a sigh, smiling over at you.
“You look beautiful tonight, Y/N. I’m really happy you accepted my invitation.”
Your face was hot again. All you could do was look down and grin like an idiot at Wonwoo’s compliment. Lifting your hand, you swipe away a loose bit of hair from your cheek before glancing back over at him, whispering a thank you and clearing your throat to regain your composure.
“Th-thank you. I was, well, you know, surprised you even asked me. Beyond the facts that I brought up at work... I just assumed you would be seeing someone.”
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo tightens his grip on the steering wheel with his left hand, his right resting on the gearshift as he leans his head back against the headrest.
“Like who?”
You can’t help but let out an amused scoff at Wonwoo’s question. He actually sounded intrigued or maybe even confused, by your assumption. You could think of plenty of people better than you for him.
“Well, any model you wanted for one. I believe Mr. Kim had one on his arm at the last dinner…”
Trailing off, you look out the passenger’s side window as Wonwoo looks at you. He wasn’t Mingyu and he didn’t want a model; he wanted you. He wasn’t even sure Mingyu wanted a model; that date was for the press, but that was a fact that even you didn’t seem to pick up on.
“He barely knew how to say her name and she spoke maybe three times to him that night. It was a publicity arrangement. I turn them down frequently because I am not interested in helping to boost anyone’s image, especially when I have someone I’m already interested in.”
Pressing your lips together, you can’t even dare yourself to look over at Wonwoo after hearing his words. He was interested in someone. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play that card. He wouldn’t have said those words with you in the car if he hadn’t been talking about you. It was making you feel short of breath and your heart was beating like a drum in your chest.
“Mingyu does it because he likes the playboy persona, even if its a lie. It looks good on paper and it’s fun for him. But, Y/N…please look at me."
There is a slight whine in Wonwoo’s voice as he asks you to look at him. He knew you could hear him but he wanted to make sure you understood what he was going to say next. He knew that his lifestyle was different from yours in many ways but not as different as you might want to believe.
Finally turning your gaze to his as Wonwoo slows down to a stop at a red light, you press your lips together, drawing his attention to them for a brief moment before he looks back into your eyes. He was entranced by you; he wanted nothing more than to see you happy and for this date to go well and so far he was afraid it was off to a rocky start because of your assumptions.
“But I am not Mingyu and I am not a rich playboy. I’m just... me, and I like you.”
Your lips parted slightly with a tiny breath and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to act on how he’s feeling. You look kissable. Your lips parted just slightly, a rosy color making them already look bitten but a honk from behind him made him smile and he pressed down on the gas, putting the car back in motion.
“I didn’t mean to sound like I was accusing you of something, Wonwoo. It is very clear you aren't. You know a play–” You stop and laugh to yourself, not sure what you were even saying. Wonwoo made you so nervous. You hear him laugh, your eyes moving over his handsome face as his cheeks become fuller, his eyes almost catlike, letting you know the laugh is real. “I’m serious. I know you are a good person. I’m just not in your circle.”
Wonwoo’s laugh and smile fade with your words. It wasn’t that he hated being wealthy or successful. That had been the plan, and he had worked hard for it. It was the fact that you felt less and unworthy of him because of his wealth and success when, in his eyes, you were far more wealthy.
“You are. I don’t even know what that means. Do you mean part of my friend group? You can meet them if you want. You already know Mingyu.”
Sighing, you smile and lean your head back against your headrest, looking over Wonwoo’s handsome face. He was perfect in every single way that you could think of. He was every girl’s dream and you couldn’t think of a single reason not to want this, yet every single alarm was going off in your head.
“I do know Mr. Kim, but as kind as he is do you think the rest of your friends would be as enthused by meeting me? Your assistant, who is a single mother to a three year old?”
His brows furrowing, Wonwoo grips the steering wheel tighter once again. He remembers a couple of his friends bringing up your occupation and a few others bringing up your status as a single mother. He didn’t care what those friends thought because the ones who really cared about him supported him and encouraged him, just like Mingyu had.
“Y/N…” Wonwoo sighs out your name, glancing down at your hands, before looking back out at the road in front of him. He wished he was close enough to you to take your hand, to glide his thumb along yours and to explain this while having that contact with you. “You’ll meet them one day and they will fall in love with you so easily. It’s impossible not to.”
The silence in the car was deafening. You didn’t know if he had meant those words the way they had come across but even Wonwoo seemed to realize what he had said as he tugged on the turtleneck that now seemed to be suffocating him as he drove.
Smiling, you look out the window, opting to hum along with the radio for a moment before finally putting Wonwoo out of his misery by glancing over at him. It was clear he was stressed; this conversation wasn’t going exactly as planned but in truth, he wasn’t sure how he had planned it.
“I’m sorry I’m being so difficult, Wonwoo. I’m not trying to push you away. I’m just…nervous.” You look down and away from Wonwoo as he glances from the road to you, listening to you speak. “I haven’t really dated much since I got divorced. It’s not exactly a conversation starter.”
Divorced. Right. Wonwoo nods and licks his lips. Your ex was your ex-husband. Why hadn’t that dawned on him before? It didn’t change anything; it just meant he needed to figure out more about you and your life.
“How long were you married?”
You laugh, surprised that Wonwoo was going to literally use what you had said as a conversation starter. He was different, that was certain. Shrugging, you decided to just lay out all of your cards. The worst that could happen was losing your job and the date going poorly, so what else could go wrong?
“Four years. We got divorced about a year and a half ago.” Glancing at your phone, you look at the date and count in your head before nodding. “Two weeks ago.”
Wonwoo does math in his head and lets out a breath with a long sigh. That was a longer time than he had anticipated and yet it was a short amount of time when you considered what he wanted from a marriage.
“What is his name?”
Picking at a string on your purse, you run your tongue along your lips, considering Wonwoo’s question before just answering it.
“Kang Daniel, and he is Jacob’s father.”
Grimacing at how you had answered his question, Wonwoo glances over at you and tilts his head.
“I figured he was, Y/N. If you don’t want to talk about—"
“It’s fine… I’ve just had men assumed that perhaps that was why Daniel and I weren’t together anymore. I cheated and had Jacob. It’s not; we were happy with Jacob. We just weren’t happy together.”
Wonwoo hated that people treated you that way; the thought had never even crossed his mind. He never assumed the separation had ever been your fault. He knew there were a million reasons marriages failed and for a great many of them, neither party was at fault.
“I would never assume something about you. I would rather learn about you. You are a great mother."
Smiling softly, you nod, the string between your fingers like a safety net as you whisper out your words just loudly enough for Wonwoo to hear.
“Thank you. I try.”
“It shows. Jacob is a great kid. You can tell he has a really good life.”
You worked hard to make sure he did and you knew that Daniel tried to do the same. His life was different from yours and that had been part of the problem with your marriage. He was always gone, and when he was there, he was still gone in his head until it came to Jacob.
“I do my best and I know Daniel does too. I have primary custody of Jacob. It’s just easier. I'm more stable.” You knew that Wonwoo didn’t ask for the details but he did say he wanted to learn. This was the most important part of your life, your son. If anything, he needed to learn about it. "Daniel travels for work often but sees Jacob once a week for two days. I’ll get him back Monday morning before work. It’s the hardest two days of my life, every single week.”
Wonwoo watches your finger wrap a loose string around it and he wants to grab your hand again and offer you comfort. While its clear there is no animosity between you and your ex, your love for your son is even more evident.
“I’m sure he misses you too.”
You laugh and shrug, reaching into your purse to take out your phone to show Wonwoo the picture that Daniel had sent you of Jacob. The small boy's face was covered in bits of syrup, and a destroyed pancake was in front of him. The next picture shows the man and your son, both leaning against an older model Mustang as Jacob holds up a toy car.
“He’s having a great time with his dadda. He needs that time with him. I’d never take that time away from him.”
Smiling at the pictures, Wonwoo then smiles at you, in awe of you. It would be so easy to be the type of person to want to keep Jacob all to themselves and instead you wanted him to love and be loved. It said alot about you and who you were and it made him want you even more.
Turning into the parking lot of a smaller restaurant, Wonwoo watches you perk up out of the corner of his eye as he pulls into a reserved space turning his car off. You look around curiously before finally turning to him as clearly this wasn’t what you had expected.
“Hm? I promise it doesn’t look like much but it’s the best money can buy. I wanted something special for you.”
Holding up his hand, you smile at Wonwoo as he tells you to wait for him when you go to reach the door. Rolling your eyes, you turn to watch him jog around the car and make it over to you, opening the door and offering you his hand. He was ridiculous but you were starting to enjoy it.
Wonwoo waits with his fingers extended, slightly trembling out of nerves, until you slide your hand into his and step out of his car next to him, looking up into his eyes with your bright, sweet smile. Wrapping his hand around your fingers, Wonwoo keeps his touch loose but dares to brush his along the back of your hand as he gestures with his right towards the walkway.
“There isn’t even a sign for this place, Wonwoo…”
A small grin plays on Wonwoo’s lips at your hushed words. He nods and leans towards you, causing you to take in a sharp breath when you feel the warmth of his breath against your ear as he speaks in hushed tones as he whispers like it’s a secret and dozens of people are listening.
“I know, it’s invite only. Like I said, special.” Standing up straight, Wonwoo moves your hand to his arm, resting his right hand over it for a moment as he takes in a breath of the crisp air and walks you to the front of the building. “It’s called Éblouissante.”
Running your fingers over his jacket, you feel goosebumps spread along your skin at how soft the fabric is under your touch. It was expensive; he was just expensive and here you were feeling like you were cheapening his brand.
Meanwhile, Wonwoo was thinking the furthest thing from what was on your mind. He felt like the luckiest man in the world with you on his arm. You were beautiful and he didn’t care how much your clothes cost or how much you spent on your accessories. All Wonwoo cared about was you, and you were worth more to him than anything money could buy.
Smiling at the hostess, Wonwoo offers her his phone, letting her check his reservation code before she grins widely, welcoming him in. Her gaze then falls to you and you are surprised when it doesn’t change from how she had been looking at Wonwoo. She gives you just as much respect before offering to take your jackets and leading you to your table, of which there were only ten in the entire restaurant.
“Oh my god, this place is wild. I swear that Yoon Jeonghan was sitting across the room.”
You shake your head as you speak, making Wonwoo tilt his head before he leans up, looking for the man and grinning. You watch him wave before you see; in fact, Yoon Jeonghan does the same back to him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me."
“He’s not that important; he just thinks he is. His last movie sucked and he knows it.”
Of course, he would know Yoon Jeonghan. Why wouldn’t Jeon Wonwoo know actors, multi-million dollar CEOs? Hell, he probably knew politicians by name as well.
“I liked it…”
Wonwoo grins at your words, crossing his leg over his knee as you look at your menu, noting the lack of prices attached to any of the listings.
“You can let him know.”
Jeonghan glances over your back before walking past you to lean down and hug Wonwoo with a chuckle. It had been too long since he had seen his friend. You watch, trying to keep your mouth closed, as two of the most handsome men you have ever met in your life talk as if they had known each other for the better part of their lives. Perhaps they had.
“Fancy running into you here, Wonwoo. The last time I saw Gyu, he said you ditched because of work. Junhui was sad…tell me you’ve gone back to his place and eaten at least."
Wonwoo sighs as Jeonghan reaches out to pat his cheek before laughing once again. Of course Mingyu had said something and of course he had missed someone else at that last lunch.
“I have and in my defense, Mingyu didn’t tell me you were going to join us.” Glancing at you as you try not to intrude, instead you choose to look over the wine list, Wonwoo grins, letting out a soft breath and gesturing towards you. “Jeonghan, this is Y/N Y/L/N.”
His eyes widening, Jeonghan mouths your first name towards Wonwoo, who gives him a look, only causing the actor to smirk. Turning his attention to you, Jeonghan gives you a dazzling smile, reaching his hand out for yours and saying your name sweetly.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. You are even more gorgeous than Wonwoo let on. My god…”
With your fingers resting in his, you feel your face burning from Jeonghan’s words. You figured he would be a smooth talker given his career but then again, you had never dreamed in a million years that you would be talking to Jeonghan much less like this.
“I–thank you? He’s spoken about me?”
Jeonghan trails his thumb over your fingernails, assessing you as he nods, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on him, knowing he is annoying the man. He knew exactly what he was doing and he wanted to rile him up because he wanted that fire inside of his friend to flame hotter when it came to you. He was tired of watching his friend pine and pine and never go for the gold.
"Oh, often, and always good things, scouts honor. I’m so happy to see him finally taking you out, like he’s been wanting to. He’d be an idiot not to. I mean, seriously, Y/N…you are stunning.” Grinning at how you shy away from compliments, Jeonghan glances towards Wonwoo, who purses his lips, glancing to where your fingers barely hang on to the other man’s.
Jeonghan laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles before letting you take your hand back completely. “If you aren’t 100% satisfied with your date, let me know. Think of me as quality assurance.”
You scoff into a laugh at his blunt flirting in front of his friend as Wonwoo groans in annoyance. Jeonghan simply laughs, winking at you, before knocking his hip against Wonwoo’s arm as he grumbles about having his own date to get back to.
“I do, and she’s a sweetheart but not really my type. However, she is my next co-star so I need to be nice and treat her to a meal. You two have the most wonderful evening, and remember what I said, Y/N.”
Watching Jeonghan saunter away, you shake your head before looking back at Wonwoo, who pinches the bridge of his nose as if he’s getting a headache. You can’t help but pout towards him, feeling bad for your own actions. It wasn’t as if you had flirted back with his friend, but you hadn’t exactly told him to back off.
“I–I’m sorry…”
Glancing up at you, Wonwoo looks confused before he smiles at you, reaching out to take your fingers in his hand and shaking his head.
“For what? Jeonghan? I should be sorry. I knew exactly how he’d act. He’s predictable. He was trying to get a rise out of me, and he got what he wanted. He made me jealous.”
Wonwoo was jealous? Jealous of another man flirting with you? You can’t help but smile and bite at your bottom lip, looking down at your hand in Wonwoo’s grasp as he rubs your fingers before letting go of them in place of picking up his menu.
“You don’t have to be jealous. I–well, I’m not interested in him. He’s handsome and funny but I don’t know him, and I don’t feel anything towards him.”
A small smile threatens the corners of Wonwoo’s lips as he scans over the different wines. His eyes are glancing at you once again over his glasses, before he rubs his lips together and lifts his head to meet your eyes completely.
“That is relieving. I’d hate to have to ruin his date.”
Laughing softly, you shake your head at his dramatics before sighing towards your menu. You weren’t even sure what half of the words said. Making a face, you look back towards Wonwoo, whose eyes had never left you. It was clear you were struggling but he could only smile.
“Could…okay. You seem to understand what this menu says. So could you pick something to drink and something to eat?”
Nodding, Wonwoo uncrosses his legs in order to lean towards you, showing you his menu.
“Have you eaten much today?”
Shaking your head, you watch him furrow his brow out of concern before he simply nods and runs his finger over the menu, pointing out a few things.
“We can stay simple. I don’t like this place because it is incredibly fancy, Y/N. I enjoy it because the food is out of this world. The wine is old and worth the price every time I take a sip. I wanted you to experience that.”
Your cheeks once again flair up with warmth, a bit of tingling in your stomach as you simply nod and mutter an okay to his words as he walks you through his ideas for dinner. You were hungry and everything sounded amazing.
“Have we made a decision on what we will be enjoying this evening?”
The server's voice pulls you and Wonwoo out of your little bubble and causes Wonwoo to let out a soft sigh as he nods.
“We have. Two glasses of Gevrey-Chambertin François Leclerc. We will share the half baguette while we wait for the rest of our food. For the lady, she will have the truffle and mushroom risotto, and I will have the Bouillabaisse.”
You watch Wonwoo order with such ease, the words slipping off his tongue as if he had ordered food such as this a hundred times before, when you realize he probably has. The server smiles at the order and collects the menus, promising to be back as soon as possible.
Wonwoo leans back in his chair, his eyes moving across your face and down to where your hands nervously mess with the end of your napkin, causing him to smile softly. You were anxious again. He was still trying to figure you out completely, and he had a feeling he would be doing that for a long time.
“What’s on your mind?”
Looking back up when he speaks, you smile, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes. Your fingers are still rubbing over the cloth napkin as you laugh softly and shake your head. You watch as he picks up his glass of water, taking a long sip and giving you time to collect your thoughts. He never rushed you; he just waited and listened.
“Well, I’m thinking about a lot of things. About Jacob, about what he is doing and should be doing right now. It’s his bedtime but I doubt Daniel has put him down. He never does it on time.”
Smiling, Wonwoo tilts his head a bit as you take in a breath and furrow your brows. You loved talking about Jacob; that was the easier point of conversation. Everything else was hard.
"Uh, thinking about work. I’m thinking about how nice all of this is and how much it must cost.” Knowing you are starting to ramble, you laugh into your words, lifting your hand to brush your fingertips against your lips before finally giving in and being vulnerable. “I’m thinking about you and how much I am enjoying spending time with you and what that means.”
Wonwoo had known there was something on your mind, perhaps a lot but hearing you say it out loud made him take a pause and take a deep breath. He understood your hesitation but all he ever wanted to do was put you at ease with all that he could.
Leaning forward once again, Wonwoo rests his arm on the table as he looks at you in the candlelight. You were seamlessly beautiful without trying. Even though he knew you had tried tonight to hide the circles under your eyes, he could see them in the lighting and it didn’t matter. The thought makes Wonwoo smile, seeing you in what you were tonight or in just sweats on his couch, your hair messy, no makeup.
“Let’s go one by one."
Watching you nod, Wonwoo sighs, only pausing long enough to watch the server drop off the wine and bread. He watches the man pour wine into your glass and then he nods at him and looks back at you, continuing.
“You trust Daniel with Jacob so I’m sure he is just fine, but at any time you are with me, if you want to call and check on him, you are welcome to. I will never stop you from being a mother. That is the most important thing to you and therefore the most important thing to me, Y/N.”
Swallowing hard, you feel the tension in your chest lessen. One fear you always had with any man was that he would feel jealous of your relationship with your son or try to change it. So hearing Wonwoo on a first date put that fear to rest made you take a sigh of relief.
Picking up his wine, Wonwoo gestures towards you, urging you to do the same before he places his glass against his lips, taking a small sip while watching you do the same. He wanted to make sure you approved of his choice. Wonwoo watches your brows furrow, then rise. You pull the glass from your lips and smile, causing Wonwoo to do the same.
“Good? It’s smooth; in this one, I can taste the strawberries and liquorice. It’s nice.”
You laugh softly, only nodding to agree as you take another sip and enjoy the feel of the wine on your tongue. Wonwoo grins, thinking to himself how much he enjoys watching you enjoy something. It was something he could get used to. Picking up a piece of bread, Wonwoo puts a bit of butter on it, taking a bite of it with an approving sound before continuing what he had started.
“Then you mentioned work.” He watches you nod as you reach for your own piece of the baguette to follow his lead. “There is nothing in the rules about my company that says anything about relationships in the company. I expect people to act like adults. That includes myself.”
He wasn’t wrong; you had read your company policy book back to front after joining the company and recently, just to check on the rules about dating your boss, there had been nothing. Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you wipe your lips and take another sip of your wine before furrowing your brows and gesturing towards him.
“People already talk about us, Wonwoo. Isn’t that going to be uncomfortable for you?”
“Is it uncomfortable for you?”
With the question put back on you, Wonwoo watches as you take a breath, leaning back in your seat.
“Slightly. I don’t want them to think that I slept my way into a position.”
Smiling, Wonwoo attempts to keep the laugh from slipping between his lips but fails, causing you to gawk at him in disbelief.
“I’m serious!”
“So am I, Y/N. I couldn’t care less what they think about me. As long as they are happy in their position in my company, that is all that should matter to them. If they think so little of you, perhaps they aren’t happy in that position.”
Your brows furrow once more at Wonwoo’s words and how much sense they make. You hadn’t considered that. It wasn’t as if you were making much more than anyone else on the second floor or the first for that matter. The salaries weren’t kept a secret, bonuses were given regularly, and promotions were announced publicly in the company.
Gesturing to the wine and the table, Wonwoo shakes his head before looking back up at you with a small sigh.
“As for this, how much does it cost? How much anything costs that I give you or treat you to doesn’t matter to me. I’m not saying that as a way of gloating.” He could already see the look in your eye and you weren’t impressed, but he wasn’t trying to impress you like that. “I’m simply saying that I am not concerned with how much dinner costs when time matters more to me. Enjoying delicious food and drinks long with it? That is just a bonus. We could do this in my living room, eating chips and drinking beer and I’d still be just as thrilled because I’m spending time with you.”
You start to speak but Wonwoo holds up his finger, giving you an apologetic look. He wanted to hear what you had to say in response but he wasn’t finished just yet.
“Money isn’t everything, and I can tell it’s something that is weighing on your mind. I’m not trying to use it to impress you. I wasn’t always living the way I do now, Y/N. Sometimes, it’s even too much for me. But I won’t apologize for wanting to treat you to nice things.”
The last of his words takes your breath away. You bite at your lips before lifting your wine to take a larger sip of it as the server approaches your table once again, sitting your meals in front of you with a quick bon appétit before leaving you both once again to enjoy your food.
“Wonwoo…” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo smiles as you say his name, even though he can feel the apprehension behind it. You hadn’t meant to offend him or make him defend his success but that is what had happened in a way. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate this meal. I appreciate you wanting to treat me to nice things; I am just not used to it. It scares me a little.”
That was understandable. Wonwoo could remember the first time money really started hitting his bank account and how terrifying it was to think it could all just vanish as quickly as it had appeared. He had been smart then and he was smart now.
“I get that; I really do. I’ll do whatever I can to help you not be so scared. Try your risotto. It looks great.”
Smiling, you let your shoulders relax when you realize he isn’t upset with you but instead he is still trying to make you feel okay about the situation. Dipping his spoon into his soup, Wonwoo watches you eat a bit of your food, your eyes closing as you take in the explosion of different flavors on your tongue.
“Oh my god…”
Wonwoo grins, eating a bit of the soup with a nod as you open your eyes to look at him as if he had given you the most special gift in the entire world with the first bite of food. Taking a second bite, you shake your head and allow Wonwoo to just enjoy you for a few moments before he sits back, sipping his wine, before swirling the red liquid in the glass, almost as if he’s lost in thought.
“Before, the last thing you said that was on your mind was me. You said that you were thinking about me, how you are enjoying spending time with me, and what it means.”
Clearing your throat, you reach for your water, taking a large drink of it before wiping your mouth clean with your napkin and nodding subtly to Wonwoo’s words. The man smiles, running his thumb along the bowl of his glass as he looks over your face before biting at his bottom lip and sighing.
“What do you think it means, Y/N?”
Why was he always turning this around on you? You could once again feel your face heating up. Now you were reaching for your wine as Wonwoo chuckled quietly, tipping his own wine back to his lips, savoring it on his tongue as you just let it hit your throat quickly. Only when it feels like the wine is down do you try to speak.
“I’m not—I don’t know. I think it means that I like you. God, that sounds stupid, because I know I like you. I’ve liked you for... Jesus, ever.” You whine as you gesture towards Wonwoo, making him laugh nervously, his face heating up this time as well as his neck as he reaches up to pull at his turtleneck out of nerves. “How could anyone not? You are gorgeous and, well, you. You are so kind and treat Jacob so well. I couldn’t help but start to fall—I started to like you.”
Glancing down, Wonwoo tries to play it cool and not smile like an idiot but fails. You were too cute, and the answer was too sweet. God, he liked you; he more than liked you. You were perfect. You watch Wonwoo’s nose scrunch in the most perfect way as he smiles and your heart melts as you feel yourself falling even harder for the man in front of you. Why did he have to be perfect?
“For a long time huh?” You just nod and Wonwoo laughs nodding along with you reaching across the table to run his fingers along yours, letting you take his hand this time. “Me too. I think I started talking to Mingyu about you two weeks after I hired you. About how pretty you were and how my day had never felt so bright.”
Whining, you look down at your half eaten risotto making Wonwoo laugh against as he pulls his fingers from your hand to reach for your chin tilting your head up so you will look at him. Your eyes were beautiful and just had to see them again, especially with that almost desperate love sick look in them as he ran his thumb along your jaw and you leaned into it.
“I’m serious, you are so beautiful and I am so lucky to have found you. Not just as my assistant…like this. I’m sorry I was such an idiot and waited so long.”
Reaching up to wrap your hand around his wrist you shake your head not knowing what to say. His words didn’t seem real, and you felt like if you tried to say anything you’d just make a fool of yourself, so luckily you were saved by the voice of the server.
“How is everything? Would you like a dessert? How about a cocktail to end your evening?”
Wonwoo sighs into a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. He wasn’t upset with the man but he had some timing. Looking back over to you, Wonwoo waits for your answer but as you look at the menus, a bit confused, he sighs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before pursing his lips in thought.
“Sure, make tonight special. The moka French cheesecake, a parisian blonde, and a carajillo.”
Pleased with Wonwoo’s order, the server takes the menu’s back and leaves you alone once again, causing the silence to be deafening. You can’t help but smile as you take one last bite of your food and sigh, daring to look up and meet Wonwoo’s eyes as he looks at you intently.
“You’re staring at me.”
Grinning, Wonwoo tips back the last of his wine. You were observant. He had been staring but he just couldn’t stop looking at you in the candlelight.
“Sorry, you can’t see yourself in this light but it’s hard to look away.”
Tsking, you try to ignore his flattering remarks, knowing you can’t look as good as he is trying to make you feel, though you appreciate his efforts. Rubbing your hands together in your lap, you swallow hard and glance around the room to the other tables, noticing Jeonghan getting up to leave. A quick two finger salute in your and Wonwoo’s direction makes you shake your head, before you nod at him and Wonwoo sighs while doing the same.
“He’s encourageable, but he does mean well. I hope you’ll meet some of my other friends. They aren’t all like Jeonghan. Some of them are even likeable…”
Smiling at his words, you pick up your wine, finishing off the last of it, savoring what you can before offering him a soft, amused laugh.
“I like Mr. Kim. He’s very funny and not that hard on the eyes.”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes and scoffs before pausing once again as the server returns with drinks and the largest slice of cheesecake that you have ever seen in your entire life. Leaning forward, he slides the cocktail towards you and pulls the smaller, simple, dark drink towards himself.
“Just call him Mingyu. You seriously boost his ego too much. He isn’t even here, and I’m sure it’s inflating by proxy.”
Running your fingers along the bottom of your glass, you laugh so sweetly that Wonwoo feels his chest tighten. He loves your laugh, especially when it sounds like that. It’s like bells on the best day of the year, marking every hour something good is happening. But every single thing that is good is you.
“He’s my best friend but honestly, I have a tight friend group of about..." You watch Wonwoo do a quick count in his head as he narrows one eye closed before nodding. “Twelve guys. They each have their issues but they are all good people. You met Jeonghan tonight; despite his bullshit, he’s reliable.”
Twelve close friends. God, you weren’t sure you had two people you could call close friends. Wonwoo was incredibly lucky. Shaking your head, you simply smile before taking a sip of your cocktail, making a surprised and happy sound to the taste of it before pulling back from it to look at Wonwoo, who grins.
“I thought you’d like that one. It is one of my favorites when I’m in the mood for something sweeter and some rum.”
Pointing to his drink, you take another sip before licking your lips.
“What did you order?”
Wonwoo lifts his drink, tilting it before taking a sip and nodding to the taste. It was simple but what he wanted for the night.
“A carajillo. It’s liquor 43 and espresso. Simple but delicious.”
Taking another sip, Wonwoo then sets the drink aside in place of picking up his spoon, cutting off the tip of the cheesecake, and turning it towards you.
"The first bite is yours. It’s their signature dessert.”
Pressing your lips together, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making your face feel warm or the idea of Wonwoo feeding you but you just smiled. Wonwoo’s lips curve up into a matching smile before he lifts the spoon upwards to entice you, causing you to finally give in and lean in, taking the dessert from his spoon as he watches.
The entire act is more intimate than you intended, but you quickly feel that embarrassed feeling fade as the luxurious dessert starts to melt on your tongue and you reach up to cover your lips in shock. Wonwoo just grins at your reaction and cuts into the dessert, turning his spoon towards himself this time to take a bite.
“Mm, I don’t admit this to many people but I usually order an entire cheesecake to take home when I eat here.”
Laughing at Wonwoo’s confession, you put your hand over your chest, reaching for your own spoon to cut off another bite as you shake your head. It was like eating happiness from a plate and sharing it with Wonwoo, which somehow made it even better.
“I don’t think anyone would blame you, least of all me. I don’t even know how much it costs, and I would still buy an entire one to take home.”
Smiling around his spoon, Wonwoo lifts his hand to get the server's attention, who comes over promptly with a smile on his face.
"Yes, sir, are you enjoying the dessert?”
You look up midbite with a smile on your face, causing Wonwoo to laugh and nod.
“Absolutely. Could we please get a full cheesecake to go? Also, give my compliments to the kitchen."
Reaching into his pocket, Wonwoo watches the server start to say something he doesn’t like but the moment a business card is in his hand and the man reads it, he brightens and agrees, walking away.
“You’re like magic. He was going to say no.”
Shrugging, Wonwoo cuts off another bite, leaving the rest for you as he sips on his drink, enjoying watching you finish off the dessert.
“They don’t sell the whole dessert. I’ve been told no before.”
Furrowing your brows, you sit up, picking up the last of the cheesecake, tilting your head as you do.
“But seeing Jeon Wonwoo, CEO of Jeon Infrastructures LLC, changes their mind."
Turning your spoon towards Wonwoo this time causes the man to perk up. You watch Wonwoo lean forward, accepting the last of the dessert from you this time, before he smiles and nods, feeling a bit proud of himself.
“Mm, usually. I don’t use it much but getting the dessert I want seems like a good enough reason to bring up that you are Forbes 30 under 30 blah blah bullshit.”
You were falling for this man. Most people in his position would use his name for discounts and to get free things in designer stores, but no, Jeon Wonwoo used it to buy cheesecake. You loved that he didn’t take himself so seriously or the Forbes title. Leaning in your elbow on the table, you smile at Wonwoo, sincerely causing him to laugh, feeling shy at your attention.
“What did I do?”
Shaking your head, you use the straw of your drink to take a sip before lifting your brows and sighing happily.
“Exceeded my expectations.”
With the cheesecake securely placed in the backseat floorboard, you watch Wonwoo grin at you from his driverside window before he opens the door and slides in beside you, starting the car.
“Will the cheesecake make it?”
Laughing, Wonwoo purses his lips and leans his head back against the headrest before nodding firmly.
“She’ll make it. Couldn’t have something so precious sliding around the backseat or the trunk. Speaking of…”
Furrowing your brows, you laugh when Wonwoo leans across the center console to reach over you, grabbing your seatbelt to click it into place.
“Now everything precious in my car is secure.”
“You are so full of shit, Jeon Wonwoo.”
Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo glances down at your lips with a small chuckle before moving back into his seat. He wanted to kiss you but like this, in his car? That wasn’t the move. No matter how pretty you were, no matter how much he wanted it, he could wait.
“Maybe, but it’s true.”
You could tell he wanted to kiss you and you were almost sad when Wonwoo moved back from you. Your breath had hitched in your throat but at the same time, you felt relief when he hadn’t kissed you. You needed time to get your brain in the right place. Shaking your head, you reach up to brush your hair from your forehead and clear your throat into a small laugh as Wonwoo drives back in the direction of your house.
“Such a smooth talker. Not as smooth as Jeonghan, but pretty smooth.”
A gasp of faux shock leaves Wonwoo’s mouth, causing you to laugh as he reaches over from the gearshift to slide his fingers along your wrist and into your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.
“I’m appalled.”
Glancing down at your hand and Wonwoo's, you feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around to the point where you feel queasy. You can’t help but smile like a girl falling in love for the first time as you bite at your lip and shake your head, trying to regain your composure.
"Oh, I’m sure you are. Entirely appalled and disgusted.”
Wonwoo grins, his thumb gliding along yours as his hand rests on your lap. He feels the fingers of your other hand tracing the back of his hand and Wonwoo thinks he has died and gone to heaven over such a simple action.
“I am, completely.”
You just smile, looking down at Wonwoo’s hand as you trace each of his fingers, watching as he extends them to let you do so. Your head is tilting as you marvel at how pretty his hand is and how much you are enjoying his attention. You had almost forgotten what you were talking about, so much so that you just hummed out a sound to his words, making Wonwoo glance at you and smile as you lean your head back on the headrest and close your eyes.
“Take a nap; it’s a long drive.”
Wonwoo watches you shake your head no, muttering something about keeping him company but as soon as he starts to tell you it’s okay, he’s smiling at your soft breath, knowing you lost your own fight.
Sliding his hand from yours, Wonwoo reaches up to brush his fingers over your cheek before keeping his hands on the wheel, unwilling to let anything happen to the most precious thing in the car while he was driving.
When you feel the car come to a stop and hear Wonwoo’s deep but soft voice say your name, you furrow your brows, instantly realizing what had happened. Opening your eyes slowly, you frown, seeing the front of your house, before looking over to a smiling Wonwoo who chuckles at your cute frown.
“You let me sleep.”
Wonwoo nods, reaching to brush his thumb across your cheek as you whine his name, feeling frustrated with yourself.
“Of course I did. You had drinks and I know you don’t sleep enough. You weren’t asleep for more than an hour. Come on, don't be upset.”
You just pout at Wonwoo as you undo your seatbelt, causing the man to laugh once again. You were unbearably cute and all he wanted to do was take care of you. He wanted to take you inside and make love to you, let you curl up against him, and sleep the night away but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight.
“Seriously, I’m happy you got some rest. Let me walk you to the door.”
Watching Wonwoo slide from his seat, you are surprised to see him stop at the backseat, taking out the cheesecake, before he moves to your door to see you looking at him suspiciously.
“I got it for you.”
You wanted to hit him but you were afraid he would drop the probably incredibly expensive cheesecake and it was far too delicious for that.
“Why? It’s your favorite.”
Wonwoo hums in agreement, moving to the side so you can stand beside him and lead him towards your front door.
“But you are my favorite and you liked it so much. Maybe I can enjoy a piece of it sometime soon.”
Swallowing hard, you understand the underlying message of his words. Did he want to be invited inside? For cheesecake, were you the cheesecake? God, you were being ridiculous and reading far too much into this.
Wonwoo can almost see the wheels turning in your head as he stands beside you on your porch. It was cold; you were already shivering and as much as he wanted to stay and talk to you and be with you for longer, he didn’t want you to catch a cold. You watch as he turns to set the bag down in a chair on your front porch before turning back to you with a smile.
“I hope you had a good time."
You tilt your head a bit like a confused puppy and Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you under his breath, taking a step towards you to not only block the wind but also run his hands along your arms over your coat.
“Yeah, I did. Thank you. I would love to see you again.”
That made Wonwoo smile brighter than you had seen all night. He knew he had done this right. Nodding, Wonwoo bites at his bottom lip, glancing at yours, before sighing your name and closing his eyes briefly before biting the bullet and speaking up.
“May I kiss you?”
He was asking? God, your head was spinning. You couldn’t remember the last date you went on, and at the end of the date, the man actually asked you before he kissed you. This was some romance novel shit and you were living for it. Nodding, you whimper out a yes as Wonwoo’s thumb brushes your jawline up to your ear.
A small smile pulls at Wonwoo’s lips as he nods to let you know he heard you before he leans down to brush his lips against yours for the first time, listening to your whine into the kiss. You were so cute and the sound went straight to his head and his pants.
Gripping your arms briefly to calm himself, Wonwoo then slides his hands down to yours, taking them into his own and linking his fingers with yours before deepening the kiss. He wanted more; he could taste the chocolate still on your tongue but mostly he could just taste you and that was intoxicating. You were better than he had even imagined.
Leaning up to meet his kiss, you tighten your hands in Wonwoo's, digging your nails into the back of his hands when Wonwoo’s tongue glides along yours. This was one hell of a first kiss. He was making your knees feel weak, your stomach was doing flips, and all your body was doing was screaming his name.
Pulling back from the kiss gently, Wonwoo nudges your nose with his as he smiles, feeling you chase him. He wanted to give you more. He wanted to give in and ask to come inside but he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be that guy. He didn’t want to give you that impression of him. So instead, he leans to kiss your cheek and then your jaw, listening to your whimper as he catches his breath, keeping his voice low.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
Holding the cheesecake in your arms, you rest your back against the door, listening to Wonwoo’s car drive out of your driveway and disappear down the road before you can make yourself move. Your lips still tingling, you close your eyes and stomp your feet like Jacob during one of his tantrums before walking towards the kitchen, putting the box into the fridge, and shutting it with more force than necessary.
You weren’t mad at Wonwoo for leaving. You knew it was for the best. You weren’t that girl. You didn’t give yourself up the first day but for him... God, you would have. After that kiss, you were uncomfortable and needy and all you wanted was to call him and tell him to come back and finish what he had started but instead you kicked your shoes off and fell on your bed, whispering Wonwoo’s name like a prayer.
Leaning against your counter, you look at your phone, wondering if you were being silly or if you were being dramatic. It was just a phone call. He could say no. He could say yes. Which would be worse? Neither if you never called.
Groaning to yourself, you hit Wonwoo’s name in your contacts list and put your phone to your ear, listening to its ring as you bite at your thumbnail. Finally, you hear his deep voice say your name on the other end. Instantly, you can’t help but smile and feel shy, just whispering back a hi.
Wonwoo had wanted to call or text you all day but he didn’t want to see you desperate or crowd you. He felt like he had done enough of that the night before with his kiss but he couldn’t get you off his mind. Not that he wanted to. All he could remember was the taste of your lips and the feeling of you against his chest. So hearing you smile through the phone made Wonwoo feel giddy.
“Hey, how are you? What are you up to?”
You had called him; he shouldn’t have to lead the conversation but you were glad he was because the moment you heard him speak, you felt like a teenager trying to remember how to talk to a boy. Flexing your toes on the tile under your feet, you smile into your words, wrinkling your nose as you try to calm yourself down, knowing where you want this conversation to go.
“I’m okay; how about you? And, uh, I’m just lazing around the house... I wanted to see if you wanted to come over and watch a movie. Eat some of that cheesecake.”
Wonwoo leans his head back on his couch and grins. He wasn’t even sure how he had been feeling a moment before you asked him over but now he was nothing but perfect. Laughing into his words, Wonwoo tries to hide the smirk in his voice but fails.
“I’d love to. Anytime, or did you have something in mind?”
God, why did he sound so sexy today? Maybe it was because you were letting yourself think about him that way. Whereas yesterday you were keeping it more professional and trying not to let yourself get ahead of the game, but now... there was a rasp to his voice. You could listen to him talk all day long. You could listen to him telling you what to do all nig–
“Y/N?”
Fuck, you had started daydreaming and hadn’t answered out loud. Clearing your throat, you press your thighs together and let out a breath away from the phone before nodding.
“Anytime is good.”
Wonwoo could hear your voice shake, and it made him curious as to why that was happening. It caused something in his brain to fire off, his hand tightening into a fist over his knee as he smiles and looks down at the floor.
“Then I’ll get ready and head over. I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
Shit, holy shit. You just whine out an okay to finish the call when Wonwoo calls you beautiful as a pet name. You had gone far too long without being touched, and now you were acting like some touched, starved lunatic even after touching yourself last night.
Smacking your hands against your thighs, you shake them out as if shaking out the anxiety and glance at the clock, trying to calculate how much time you would have before Wonwoo showed up, and you needed to be as normal as possible.
Perhaps Wonwoo broke a few speeding laws in order to make the best time he could to get to your house, but he had figured out what that sound was in your voice. You had sounded needy, and now Wonwoo was fighting an internal battle with himself to keep it in his pants. That wasn’t why he was over at your house. He was here for cheesecake, a movie, and your company.
Ringing your doorbell, Wonwoo is a bit shocked at the difference in time it takes for you to open the door compared to the day prior. Today, you still took his breath away. Your makeup was light; you looked a bit better rested, but your clothes were casual. He loved you like this. You looked perfect.
He hadn’t dressed up either, opting for a simple black longsleeved shirt, jeans, and a jacket now discarded. You were still looking at him like he was dressed in a suit that cost more than your paycheck.
“Hey.”
“Hi…”
Things were awkward but it wasn’t because neither of you wanted to be there; instead, there was so much unspoken and undone. There was tension in the air and Wonwoo wasn’t sure how to ease it so instead he just laughed softly, leaning to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips.
“You look pretty.”
God, he had to stop saying things. Just stop speaking all together, or you are not going to make it. Giving him a pained smile, you just laugh, lifting your hand to your neck to rub it as you move into the kitchen, letting him follow you a bit confused.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Wonwoo watches you shake your head. His eyes follow you as you take the cheesecake out of the fridge and then a plate from your cabinet to put one slice on it.
“Not even close.”
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo leans towards you over the island as you take out a spoon and finally glance up at him.
“Then tell me what’s going on. I don’t wanna fuck this up.”
Biting your lip, you sigh and lean your head back, making Wonwoo laugh softly as he watches you be dramatic.
“I really like you, Wonwoo. Last night was perfect, and the kiss... I don’t know how to ask for any of this.”
Tilting his head, Wonwoo smirks a bit when you shoot him a look, turning away to put away the rest of the cheesecake. He follows you, laughing once again, as you seem to almost run away from him with the cheesecake in hand, towards your living room, plopping down on the couch with a pout on your face.
“Ask for this? I–Y/N…” Reaching out for the plate, Wonwoo sits it on the coffee table before sitting beside you, leaning towards you, and brushing his thumb along your neck, causing you to shiver at his touch. “You want me to kiss you again?”
When you whine instead of answering, Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you like he did the night before. You were so cute when you couldn’t just speak. You weren’t used to this; you weren’t used to asking for what you wanted or getting what you wanted. Wonwoo was going to change that.
“I’ll kiss you. Anytime you want. As much as you want.”
With his lips hovering over yours, Wonwoo smiles when you lean forward, trying to make him keep to his word. You feel his thumb press to the side of your neck, gently keeping you back from him as he tsks softly. Wonwoo brushes his nose against yours and whispers your name as your lips part for him and he gives in by pressing his lips to yours softly.
Wonwoo loved kissing you already. You were soft and tasted so good that he felt drunk off of you. It didn’t take much for him to want more. Your hands are pulling at his shirt, one tangled in the front and the other pulling him closer to his side. He wanted to push you down on your couch and climb on top of you, but he wanted to take it slow. This wasn’t why you had said you had invited him over.
Pulling back slowly, Wonwoo gently pecks at your lips before smiling and sitting back, completely listening to you catch your breath. His eyes finally open, and Wonwoo feels his cock twitch already starting to get hard from just kissing you. You looked like a dream. Your lips were bitten and slightly swollen from his kiss. Your chest was rising and falling quickly from how excited you were.
Wonwoo watches you start to calm down as he leans towards the coffee table to pick up the plate with your cheesecake, cutting off the tip of the dessert, waiting for you to open your eyes before he offers it to you. You can’t help but laugh as he does.
“In my opinion, the first bite of any dessert is the best bite, and for cheesecake, there is no better bite than the tip of the triangle. You deserve the best.”
Furrowing your brows, you lean forward, taking the dessert from him, only to smile at the now welcome and comforting taste. Wonwoo’s words make your chest feel tight and warm as he smiles at you, watching you enjoy the first bite as if it were him doing it instead.
“So what movie are we watching?”
Halfway through The Family Stone and the second slice of cheesecake, you find yourself wrapped in Wonwoo’s arms. Your legs pulled up onto the couch as he rested his feet on the coffee table once he knew it was okay to do so.
This was your idea of a perfect evening and the perfect date, but you were still stealing glances at Wonwoo as he chuckled at the movie occasionally and reached up to brush his fingers against your cheek. He was so handsome it was hard not to watch him instead of the movie, and around the twentieth time you had done it, Wonwoo glanced down into your eyes and grins, grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb before you could look away.
“Not so fast.”
He watches as you laugh, knowing you are caught. Wonwoo’s eyes look over your pretty face so close to his own before he leans in to press a kiss to your lips slowly and gently. There was no urgency behind his kiss but it still took your breath away. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows, feeling his tongue play with the idea of touching yours before he would just catch your bottom lip between his teeth and let go with a soft, happy breath.
Sliding your hand along his chest, you find yourself whining when Wonwoo’s hand slides from your face to your neck and lowers to rest just above your chest. You can feel his thumb pressing against your collarbone, and you want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you. So you press your fingers into his chest and drag them downward over his stomach,feeling him suck in hard and smile against your lips.
“Fuck—careful. Trying to be good.”
Shaking your head, you grip his shirt and tug at it, feeling Wonwoo’s hand slide along your arm up to your wrist, keeping your hand in place as you nip at his lips this time.
“Y/N, I want you too much. If you keep that up…”
“Why do you think I’m doing it, Wonwoo? Touch me, you idiot.”
Wonwoo laughs against your mouth as you insult him and then tug at his shirt, pulling your leg along his thigh and begging for him to touch you. God, how could he say no to that? You felt so good against him, and even your breaths sounded so pretty on his lips.
“You want me to touch you? Here?”
Sliding his hand from your chest to your shoulder and along your back, your whine furrows your brows as you all but growl annoyed against his lips. Wonwoo grins into the kiss, deepening it as his hand finally moves to your ass, gripping it tightly and earning himself a moan from you as he does. Your hand loosens on his shirt and goes back to scratching at his torso over his shirt until you find a bit of skin just above his jeans and slide your hand under his shirt over his abs, causing Wonwoo to groan your name.
“Shit…baby.”
Wonwoo hadn’t meant to call you a pet name, but your nails felt too good scratching his skin as your mouth moved to his neck. You just smile, enjoying it as his fingers dig into your pants under your ass before he presses his fingers between your legs, making you arch your chest towards him, your breath getting caught in your throat.
“This okay?” Wonwoo watches you nod, a soft yeah falling from your lips as he rubs at your pussy through your sweat pants and panties feeling your soft breasts press against his chest through your clothing. “You’re warm, baby. Wanna…God, I wanna —”
He wasn’t sure he could finish the words but he didn’t have to as you whined his name and met his eyes. The need is evident in your gaze before the words ever leave your lips.
“Take me to bed, Wonwoo. I need you.”
He wasn’t even sure where your bedroom was but Wonwoo nodded and let you grab his hand, tugging him up from the couch and towards the hallway. His eyes only move from you once or twice to glance into rooms, noticing which one is Jacob’s before you pull him into your bedroom and drop his hand, letting him decide what to do next.
Wonwoo just stares at you for a moment in awe. He was overwhelmed with what he could do and what he wanted to do. He had dreamed about this for longer than he was willing to admit. He had pictured laying you on the bed and having you moan his name, and now you were standing in front of him, wanting him to fuck you.
Stepping forward, Wonwoo shakes his head as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back into his arms so he can lean down and kiss you deeply once more. He knew he would never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his or the way you melted into his arms as he did it. Your panting moans against his lips are the only reason he pulls back and works his finger tips under your shirt as he walks with you back towards the bed, letting you sit on it as he smiles down at you.
“I’m so fucking lucky... before we go any further. Baby…I didn’t come over here to plan this. Do you have a condom for me?”
As you shake your head, Wonwoo feels a bit of disappointment rush through him, but he just nods. There was still plenty he could do. He simply smiles and leans down to press a kiss to your jaw as he lays you back on the bed, dragging your shirt up to your chest over your breasts.
“That’s okay. I can just take care of you.”
You shake your head again, lifting your leg to rub along the outside of his thigh before doing the same between his legs, carefully listening to him groan quietly against your stomach as he presses kisses on your skin.
“No, I have an IUD. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. Wonwoo…I want you.”
Burying his face against your breasts, your bra soft against his cheek, Wonwoo groans at your words before glancing up at you with a nod. You were trusting him with something important and he wasn’t going to fuck that up.
“It’s been over 6 months for me, but I get tested. I am clean…baby if this is what you want, I’m…yeah, I want you too.”
Arching off the bed, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo’s to answer his question, making him groan into a laugh as you do.
“Okay…yeah. I got you.”
Wonwoo’s hands find the end of your shirt as you lift your arms, letting him drag it up and over your head. His eyes move over your upper body as if he were looking at a piece of fine art. You can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention when Wonwoo grins down at you, the back of his right hand running between your breasts as his left moves behind you, working the clasp open.
He was intoxicated without taking a sip of alcohol and it was all because of you. Wonwoo could picture himself dreaming about this moment every night. He could envision waking up next to you and burying his face against your neck and his fingers between your legs, listening to your moans.
“Wonwoo…”
There was that needy sound in your voice once again. It was making Wonwoo painfully hard; he could feel how much he was leaking in his boxers. It was driving him insane how much he wanted to be inside of you. Each one of your moans drives him a little bit more insane with lust.
“Baby, you’re killing me…”
You could feel Wonwoo’s cock pressed against his jeans as you rubbed your leg against him. You wanted him out of his clothes and you wanted him to get your clothes off of you. He was moving too slowly for your liking.
“I might kill you if you don’t get inside of me.”
Laughing, Wonwoo drags the straps of your bra down your arms as he shakes his head. He knew it was an empty threat and yet he knew he wouldn’t keep you waiting for long. Every time he glanced up at your face, your eyes were on him; your lips were either parted or you were biting on them. He was dying either way.
Arching towards Wonwoo, you whimper as his breath fans across your chest. His hands slide along your sides until his thumbs press under your breasts, pushing them upwards. Wonwoo smiles as he looks up at you before pressing a kiss on the swell of each of your breasts. He was enjoying watching you fall apart. He was enjoying watching your mind melt as all coherent words fade away into nothing but Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo...
“You are so beautiful. Please don’t make me rush, baby. Not this time…”
This time. The words make you laugh into a moan as Wonwoo’s lips wrap around your right nipple, his thumb and forefinger lightly massaging your left. This time, you think again. He wanted another time. How many times did he want? You wanted forever with how he was making you feel.
Wonwoo smiles upon hearing you moan his name, his eyes moving back up at your face as he rests his teeth against your nipple, just barely applying any pressure. He watches as you push your head back into the pillow, your hand reaching up for the headboard, only for your nails to scratch at the fabric lightly. Wonwoo groans against your skin as you roll your body like a wave towards him, enticing him to move further and give you more.
“Don’t rush me…”
His voice is a whisper between kisses as Wonwoo works his lips across your breasts and up your chest to your throat as his fingers slide towards your sweatpants. You weren’t trying to, not consciously, but your body was begging him to hurry. He could feel the goosebumps spreading along your skin at his touch. He could feel the hitching of your breath in your throat under his lips as his fingers slipped under the top of your pants and over your panties between your legs.
“Mm… Won—Wonwoo…”
All that need and desire. Wonwoo hisses as you moan his name again. His teeth scratch against your neck as his middle finger presses to the center of your slit, feeling your warmth and how you were soaking through the lace covering you.
“I’m here. Let me tell you what I’m gonna do, mm—okay?”
You nod and let out a loud breath as Wonwoo’s teeth catch your ear, only for him to breathe against your ear and then laugh at your reaction. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but instead, you could tell that he was overwhelmed with his own desire. He was fighting every instinct to fuck you into the mattress without ceremony. He knew you deserved better.
“I’m going to finish undressing you and myself.” Wonwoo smiles as you grab at his shirt, making a happy sound. “Then I’m going to taste you; use my fingers to prep you for my cock…”
Furrowing your brows, you whine to Wonwoo’s words, looking up at him as he leans back, opening his eyes. You could feel him through his jeans as he laid against your hip on the bed. He was big, perhaps bigger than any man you had been with before. Hearing his words while his finger pushed your panties to the side and you felt his skin slide between your wet folds caused you to say his name with even more lust laced in your voice.
He had told you what was coming next and yet when Wonwoo slid his hand from your pants you still wanted to cry. You could hear the soft coo in his voice as he tried to keep you calm.
“Shh… I’m not leaving you. Told you what I was doing, didn’t I?”
You nod as you watch Wonwoo take off his glasses and lean to put them on your nightstand. He looked good either way you instantly think to yourself but there was something mildly dangerous about Wonwoo without his glasses. A smirk forms on the man’s lips as you watch him drag his shirt over his head. He can feel your fingers in the loops of his jeans as an anchor to keep him tethered to you, forcing him to keep his promises.
You had begun to play with the button, keeping his pants closed but you weren’t sure if you should. You didn’t know if Wonwoo would be okay with you undoing it but one low chuckle that went straight to your core, causing a new rush of arousal, told you otherwise.
Glancing down at your fingers as you circle the button, Wonwoo bites his bottom lip before looking up at you. Your fingers were delicate compared to his. There was something about that that was causing his brain to misfire and picture the dirtiest things but he would never tell you not to undo his pants, especially as he had already been undressing you.
“Go ahead, baby. I’m yours…”
Wonwoo’s words make you look up at him in surprise. He just smiles at you as you rest your fingertips on the top of his jeans before you let out a breath and mutter something under your breath. Wonwoo feels pressure release as you unzip his jeans; a bit more space is given for his hard cock but he can’t help but tilt his head and reach down to your face, titling it back towards him out of curiosity.
“What did you say? You were so quiet.”
Your cheeks were already burning from his attention but when Wonwoo wants you to repeat what you had barely whispered above a breath, you all but whine in protest, causing him to laugh. Shaking his head, Wonwoo slides back from you to kick off his jeans before reaching for the top of your sweatpants, beginning to drag them down as he looks into your eyes and asks again.
“What did you say, sweetheart?”
Closing your eyes, you swallow hard at the pet name and the feeling of Wonwoo’s knuckles running along the length of your legs as he pulls your pants from your body completely.
“I–just…that I want to be yours too. If–” Your words get caught in your throat as Wonwoo kisses your inner thigh, his fingers wrapped in the sides of your panties pulling them down just like your pants, before he groans for you to go on. “Wonwoo! I can’t talk like this when you are kissing my thighs.”
Chuckling once again, Wonwoo opens his eyes as he leans back to lift your legs, pulling lace from your feet, and drop your panties onto the floor onto a growing pile of clothes. He keeps your legs closed on purpose as he looks over your body up to your face, lifting his brow in a daring look, allowing you to finish.
This hadn’t been what you had wanted. You hadn’t wanted him to stop. You wiggle in Wonwoo’s grasp, his hand holding your ankles as his free hand runs along the back of your thigh. You could see the patience in his eyes and it was frustrating.
“Wonwoo…”
“Finish what you were saying.”
Damn him. Pressing your head back against the pillow, you scratch at the comforter under you, listening to Wonwoo smile into a breath as you do.
“If you are mine, then I want to be yours.”
Wonwoo knew what you were going to say. At least he had a good idea of where you were going with your words but he had to hear them. It was all that he wanted—for you to be his…completely.
“Then you’re mine.”
You feel Wonwoo’s fingers let go of your ankles in place of lifting your left leg and placing it on the bed. A soft whimpering moan slips from your lips when you feel the way your folds pull apart between your legs as Wonwoo pushes your legs up, giving him room to lay between them.
Licking his thumb first, Wonwoo then presses it between your wet lips, barely putting any pressure on your clit to watch your reaction. The way that you hold to the bed, rolling your hips towards his hand, Wonwoo can only smile as he leans to press a soft kiss to your thigh.
With a brush of his knuckles, Wonwoo teases his fingers down to your leaking opening while leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of your mound. The center of your legs is warm and inviting and Wonwoo thinks to himself how he could be here for hours if you’d let him. He could picture himself listening to your whimpers as he ran his tongue along your soft folds, avoiding your clit as he slowly rutted his hips against your bed for some bit of relief.
“Shit, baby… You taste good.”
Wonwoo couldn’t help but lick his lips, already tasting the arousal you were leaking that was running along his fingers from just teasing you. He needed more and he was getting greedy. Slipping the first finger into you, Wonwoo groans when your soft walls not only welcome him in but they also tighten and quiver.
He can’t help but breathe hot breath against your pussy as he slides in closer to you, getting addicted to the feeling of the warm velvety walls around his finger and thinking how good it will feel around his cock. Groaning your name, Wonwoo circles his finger inside of you and curls it back towards him before adding a second.
Your reaction is like bliss for Wonwoo and he can’t stand it anymore. You arch your back, feeling his tongue run flat from the base of his fingers over your clit and back. It’s messy between the way you are leaking from each pump of Wonwoo’s fingers and how he groans, pulling back from your folds with spit covering you and his mouth.
“You’re so tight.”
You aren’t even sure if Wonwoo is actually speaking to you or if he is just saying the statement out into the room as he leans back in to pull at your folds with his lips. You could feel how tightly you were closing in around his fingers but you were going to cum and there was no way you could stop it. Whimpering his name, you lift your hips only for Wonwoo to push them back down his mouth, finding your clit when your whisper becomes a sound from your chest as you orgasm hard around his fingers for the first time.
Wonwoo smiles, feeling you cum, his tongue teasing your clit until you reach between your legs to tug at his hair, making him chuckle against your pussy. It was bad enough his fingers were still inside you, fucking your cum back into you lazily. You couldn’t stand his skillful tongue abusing your tender clit anymore, not right now.
With one last kiss to your thigh, Wonwoo groans, slipping his fingers from your pussy. His eyes move from your now swollen folds to his fingers before he glances up at you and sucks them clean with a groan to your taste. When you smile and lift your hand to cover your face, you hear Wonwoo laugh. You feel his knee rest between your legs and his clean hand pulls your hand from where you were trying to hide.
“What’s that about?”
Looking up at him, you watch as he once again sucks his fingers clean before leaning over you to press a kiss to your jaw as you sigh happily.
“You’re lewd.”
Wonwoo laughs surprised against your cheek, turning his face so he can look at you even so close. He shakes his head and rubs his thumb along your wrist, holding your arm to the bed as he hums out an amusing and thoughtful sound.
“Am I? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word said aloud, first of all, and secondly, I’ve certainly never been called it before. All of this because I was cleaning my fingers.”
You smile, turning your head to the side so you can feel Wonwoo’s lips press against your throat. He was giving you time to come down from your first orgasm and you could appreciate that but you were already rubbing against his thigh and you wanted him out of his underwear.
“You should find more sophisticated circles if you’ve never heard the world ‘lewd’ spoken aloud, Jeon Wonwoo. And it was...you–" You laugh, trying not to feel embarrassed by what you wanted to say and the action you wanted to repeat but Wonwoo's chuckling against your ear caused you to rub your lips together. “It was my cum you were licking from your fingers.”
Grinning, Wonwoo rolls his hips towards you so he can press his thigh up flush with your warm pussy. He could feel you trying to ride his thigh as he ran his fingers along your arm and his lips along your neck. There was something special about hearing you say something dirty, even if it made your face hot against his touch.
“How lewd of you to say, Miss Y/L/N.”
When you push playfully at Wonwoo, he laughs, sliding back and drawing your eyes with him. Any bit of playfulness that you had fades away as you watch him step off the bed and press his thumb into the top of his boxers. Instead, you swallow hard and fight over whether you should look away or just take in what is in front of you.
Wonwoo watches your face start to turn when he is about to push his boxers over the top of his cock and he can’t help but smile at you. You were perfect and you were his. There was no reason for you to look away from what was yours.
“Baby…”
His voice drawing your eyes back to him, you hum out a soft yeah in question only to hear it die on your lips as Wonwoo pushes his boxers down for you and steps out of them.
“You don’t have to be shy around me, okay?”
You were fully looking at every inch of Wonwoo now and he was telling you not to be shy around him. Whining, you look up from his cock to Wonwoo’s eyes, causing the man to laugh at your reaction. Sliding back on to the bed, Wonwoo trails his hand along your stomach and to your hand, picking it up and guiding it to his hip.
“Talk to me.”
Shaking your head, your eyes fall to where he had placed your hand, noting that he hadn’t left you there by yourself. Instead, Wonwoo was dragging your fingers along his skin and somehow that made it more sensual. Your brain was cloudy with want, your mouth was watering, and now your eyes were back on his very well endowed cock that rested on your thigh as he let your fingers to it.
“Big.”
Well, Wonwoo thought to himself with a smile on his lips as you spoke one word. He had told you to speak to him and that was speaking. Shaking his head, Wonwoo chuckled a bit, lifting his brows as he wrapped your fingers and his around his shaft, causing himself to shiver and groan.
“Boosting my ego?”
Letting Wonwoo guide your hand over his head and collect some of his pre-cum making the glide smoother, you press your head back against the pillow, glancing from your hand up to Wonwoo’s face and back as he speaks. You weren’t necessarily trying to do that; you were just saying what was on your mind and that was that Wonwoo was big. You could already feel the stretch between your legs but it was all you wanted.
“Wasn’t my intention? You don’t seem like the kind of man who looks for ego boosts.”
Wonwoo grins; you were right. He didn’t need his ego boosted. He wasn’t like some of his other friends when it came to things like that. It was enough to see your delicate hand and fingers around his cock. This was what he had pictured when your fingers were on his pants earlier and he had given into his own dirty little desires. Now he was leaking pre-cum on to your thigh like an excited teenager, but he wasn’t going to apologize for that when you looked like a goddess spread out under him.
“I’m not. I don’t need them, not when I can have you. I have a feeling that I’m not going to need much of anything if I have you in my life, Y/N.”
You suck on your bottom lip at Wonwoo’s words. Did he even know what he was saying or was it the lust going to his brain? Watching him pull your hand back from him, you almost pouted, but you could see it was getting harder for him to control himself.
“Can I? I — I wanna be inside of you."
Your head spinning with his words, you moan, feeling Wonwoo’s hand sliding along your thigh up to your hip as he asks to fuck you. You hadn’t expected him to ask. You were enjoying what he was asking. With your nails digging into his skin, you hold on to Wonwoo’s forearm as you nod, watching him smile in response.
“Fuck…okay.”
Wonwoo was quickly remembering that he had the privilege to be with you just the way he was. There was no need to get up and find a condom. No latex kept his cock from feeling those warm, smooth walls that had hugged his fingers before. Cursing under his breath, Wonwoo shakes his head to push the thoughts away for the moment, feeling his cock jerk against your thigh. If he thought too hard about it, he would cum before he got inside of you from the anticipation.
You watch Wonwoo lay on his side, your brows furrowing, until he smiles at you and helps you do the same. Pulling your leg over his hip, Wonwoo reaches up to push your hair back over your cheek before glancing between your bodies to line himself up with you.
The stretch, as you had anticipated, is intense but welcomed. Wonwoo is slow and steady, his hand moving to the back of your thigh once he knows he is nestled inside you deeply enough. He uses the movement of his hips and pulls you towards him to bury himself inside of you the rest of the way before staying still and listening to your breath as you adjust.
Though there was nothing wrong with lying on your back and having a man on top of you, there was something special about laying this close to Wonwoo, feeling your body press up against his as he breathed against your lips. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as he did everything he could not to start to beg you to let him move.
Instead of using your words, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo, granting yourself a deep moan from his chest. Wonwoo smiles against your lips at the feeling of your soft, warm walls constricting around him as you slide over his cock, finally muttering on his lips to move.
Simply nodding, Wonwoo digs his nails into the thickest part of your ass, pulling you back towards his hips so he can roll his hips towards you, burying himself deeply inside you once again. Both of you seeing stars, you moan his name before Wonwoo swallows it in a deep kiss, repeating the movement with his hips. He could already feel the pressure building in his stomach, his thighs tightening as his climax balanced on the edge of a cliff, threatening to barrel over.
“More Wonwoo…please.”
Hissing against your lips, Wonwoo listens to your whispered request, pressing his fingers into your skin. He wanted to go slow to keep you in this position but there was only so fast he could go like this and you wanted more. Groaning, Wonwoo rests his forehead against yours and nods.
You gasp in surprise when Wonwoo puts you on your back, his body easily finding its way between your legs. With one hand holding yours, Wonwoo presses his lips to your throat, reaching between his legs to press his cock back into you while listening to your loud moan.
He was deeper. The thrusts were more urgent and he was giving you what you wanted. You had asked for more and this was more. You could feel every inch of Wonwoo as he made sure to press his hips flush with yours and roll his hips upwards, listening to your cries of pleasure. You were close and he could feel it as your pussy clenched around him as you had around his fingers before.
"Baby, oh my god. Are you gonna cum for me again?”
Wonwoo feels you nod against the side of his face. He doesn’t pull his lips from your ear; instead, he just chuckles, a warm and soft feeling that makes you shiver uncontrollably under him as you fall over the edge.
Just as quickly as he laughed, the sound faded from his lips to the feeling of you cumming on his cock. Pushing back from you to look down at your face, Wonwoo groans, seeing the way your lips parted in the perfect way before you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to silence yourself. Even then, he can hear you say his name as he quickens his thrust, burying himself so deeply inside of you that he hopes you won’t want or need anyone ever again.
“Perfect, you’re perfect, Y/N. Shit… I’m gonna cum too. Where do —”
Hearing his words, you try to process them as quickly as possible but your leg is quicker than your mouth as Wonwoo starts to pull out of you. Wrapping your leg around his back, you pull him back against you and Wonwoo groans into a laugh at your possessive nature until you roll your hips up and he’s a goner.
The sound of Jeon Wonwoo cumming isn’t one you thought you would ever hear but it isn’t one you want to ever forget. His voice is deep and if you would ever admit it to him, it caused you to get wet even at work but his groans as he came were a bit higher and mixed with deep praises for how good you had made him feel.
Collapsing onto you, Wonwoo groans against the crook of your neck, feeling your fingers through his sweaty, damp hair. He was still inside of you, though he could feel himself softening. He could feel the sticky combination of his cum and yours against his skin and between your thighs, and he knew that should make him feel gross, but instead he could only think about laying between your thighs to clean you up with his mouth.
Perhaps another day, he thought to himself with a smile before pushing back on his right hand to look down at you. You were a vision to behold. Sweat running down your temples, tears of pleasure still on your cheeks, and those bitten lips inviting him to kiss them. Wonwoo groans your name before giving in and kissing you softly, his thumb wiping away your tears gently.
Taking a breath, you run your fingers along Wonwoo’s arm humming out a happy sound to his attention as you come down from your orgasm. You feel him finally slide from you, hearing his soft grunt and you can’t help but to pout at the empty feeling.
Seeing your pout, Wonwoo grins, kissing your lips once again, wiping your other cheek and letting out a soft sigh before he bites at his lips in thought. He was trying to tell himself to chill but the more he looked at you the more he knew there was no way he could. He was in love with you.
Your alarm clock made your brows furrow deeply. You could feel warmth against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist, and then the soft breath of Wonwoo against your neck that caused you to smile. The memory of the night before flooding back in and how it had all ended.
You had asked him to stay the night despite knowing it was Monday the next day. You couldn’t bear the idea of him leaving you alone in that bed after he had held you in the shower and ran his fingers over your body, working your body wash over your skin as if he had done it hundreds of times.
Reaching over to tap the stop button on your phone, you turn in Wonwoo’s arms to look at the still sleeping man, enjoying the moments to yourself. He was so handsome. You loved the shape of his mouth, the perfect sharpness of the bridge of his nose, and the way he scrunched it when you dared to touch it in his sleep.
You would have stayed like this forever if it wasn’t for the sudden realization that it was Monday. Monday was the day Daniel would be bringing Jacob back. Jacob was coming back and Wonwoo was in your bed. Wonwoo was in your bed and he was naked. He was very, very naked.
“Wonwoo!”
Hearing your panicked voice, Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open in alarm, his hand grabbing your waist before he sits up, looking around for any signs of danger. Furrowing his brows when he realizes there is nothing, you watch Wonwoo blink a few times before he looks at you sitting up, a look of confusion on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Jacob will be here soon.”
Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo wonders if you are panicked because you don’t want Jacob to see him in your house or if it’s about your ex but you put all of his fears aside with your next words.
“We are naked, Wonwoo…”
You watch Wonwoo reach up to rub his neck, a laugh slipping from his lips as he nods in agreement. You were right; both you and him were naked. That wouldn’t be ideal for a toddler or an ex-husband to see.
Sliding out of your bed, Wonwoo moves to pick up his clothes, sliding them back on as he sneaks a glance at you moving to your closet. He knew he would have to go by his house and change before coming into the office, but being the CEO of the company did have it’s perks…he could be late.
You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you as you got dressed. Your cheeks were burning almost as badly as they had when he had been undressing you but you couldn’t help but smile at the feeling. You knew you could ask him to leave but for some reason, you couldn’t find the words or the will to do it. Instead, you wanted to make him coffee and offer him food. There was still time.
"Uh, they will be here anytime. Do you want—want some coffee? I can make eggs.”
Wonwoo smiles, sliding his glasses up his nose. You were still acting nervous around him. You had slept with your body pressed up against his all night long and yet you were still stumbling over your words. God, he was in love with you. He just couldn’t say it yet. He was terrified of scaring you away.
Reaching out to catch your hand as you start to walk past him, Wonwoo pulls you back into his arms so he can lean down to press his lips against yours. He smiles to the happy sound you make, his fingers pressing against the small of your back as you give into the kiss and melt against him, wrapping your arm around his neck.
“I’d love eggs and coffee. Do you want help —”
The doorbell stops Wonwoo midsentence, his lips hovering over yours. He could feel his heart start to race in his chest. He had seen Jacob plenty of times but not in this house, and he found himself suddenly very intimidated by the idea of meeting your ex-husband. Putting on a brave face, Wonwoo smiles as you lean back, clearing your throat, to look up at him.
“Told you…anytime.”
Following behind you, keeping a safe distance, Wonwoo stops in the living room just out of sight, not sure if you want him to be seen as you move to the front door to open it. He can hear Jacob’s happy voice saying momma as you greet him. He can hear a man’s voice telling you good morning and your own voice saying the same. It sounds friendly but nothing raises any alarms with him.
Small feet hit hardwood, and then carpet, as Jacob moves towards the living room for his toys, only to stop when he sees Wonwoo gasping up at the man in surprise. You hear the sound and make a face that Daniel can only raise a brow at.
“Something wrong?”
“No, uh, no. My—I have a friend… Wonwoo is here. Jacob…Mr. Je–uh Wonwoo is here.
Your voice trails off as you get confused on how to approach the situation, moving towards the living room, only to hear Daniel laugh at your struggle. Stopping, you shoot him a look and point in his direction, muttering for him to shut up. Watching the man put up his hands, he follows you, still holding Jacob’s bag, into the living room to see the taller man leaning against the couch.
Jacob claps excitedly, moving back to his dad to pull open his bag, taking out the toy car, before turning towards Wonwoo to hold it up towards him, showing it off.
“Car! ‘Ook! Car! Play with me!”
Laughing, Wonwoo reaches down with a gentle hand to ruffle Jacob’s hair before squatting down to his level and looking at the car with the same excitement that Jacob had shown it to him.
“That’s so cool. Is it your favorite?”
Nodding, Jacob moves in closer to Wonwoo’s chest, making his car sound as you and Daniel watch for a moment. With a fond look on your face, Daniel can only smile and nod, clearing his throat softly, drawing your attention back to him while at the same time drawing Wonwoo’s.
“We can look at it in just a second, okay, little man? Momma said something about eggs.”
“Eggies! Tots too peese!”
Jacob giggles at his own request, moving to the couch and running his toy across it as Wonwoo stands back up, offering a friendly smile towards the other man.
“Uh, hey. I’m Wonwoo.”
Glancing towards you, Daniel raises his brow playfully before offering Wonwoo his hand to shake, reconizing the name.
"Daniel, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for treating Jacob like that. It's clear to see he likes you. I know he can be a little hyper, especially after a couple days with me.”
Swallowing hard, you watch your ex-husband and your—what was he? Your boss, your friend, or your boyfriend? Your brain was going crazy now as you watched the two men laugh and shake hands like friends before they glanced at Jacob and then back to you. Wonwoo sighed softly and shook his head.
“It’s no big deal at all. He’s a great kid, and I really enjoy being around him. You two clearly do a great job with him.”
Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, Wonwoo watches you stare at him for a moment before Daniel smirks at you and lifts Jacob’s bag, only to put it on a chair, breaking your concentration.
“Thanks, Wonwoo. Well, I have to get going. Let me say bye to Jacob and I’ll be out of your hair so you two can get back to your morning.”
Groaning, you catch the teasing in Daniel’s voice, which in turn makes Wonwoo catch it. His cheeks start to burn as he looks down with a chuckle.
“No problem. Uh, Y/N…I’m gonna go see how your coffeemaker works.”
You just nod at Wonwoo, letting him slide his fingers over yours as he passes by you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Daniel even as he hugs Jacob and kisses the top of his head. Moving back around the couch, your ex-husband chuckles, leaning to poke at your arm before he glances into the kitchen, watching Wonwoo open cabinets like he lives there.
“You little slu–”
“If you finish that sentence... I will knee you right in the dick, Kang Daniel.”
You knew he was teasing and you were smiling but you couldn’t handle it right now. Not with Jacob so close and Wonwoo in just the other room. Pointing at the front door, you listen to Daniel laugh as he offers Wonwoo a wave in passing, getting one in return before he walks with you to the door.
“I know who he is.”
Sighing heavily, you stomp your feet on the tile, lightly glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one is watching you as Daniel speaks.
“I know you do; now hush.”
Shaking his head, Daniel grins and reaches up to pat your cheek once before dropping his hand. He loved to see you happy and to tease you. You were always so cute when you were flustered.
“I like him. If you don’t date him, I will.”
“Oh my god, if you don’t get out of my house..."
Laughing a bit louder than intended as you try to kick his leg, Daniel puts his hand over his lips to stiffen the laugh, opening the door to the cold air to escape your attack.
“Fine, fine. I will talk to you later. Have a good rest of your day, Mrs. Jeon.”
Pushing his shoulder hard, you listen to Daniel laugh as he stumbles on to the porch when you close the door behind him, leaning against it. Your heart is racing but there is a smile on your face. As annoying as your ex could be, you didn’t mind the name hitting your ears.
Taking a moment, you collect yourself, enjoying the smell of fresh coffee filling the air as you move back towards the living room to find Jacob. You half expected him to rush towards you like he did most mornings after being with his dad. He usually wanted to tell you all about his trip but today you press your fingers to your lips as you lean against the wall, watching him sit on Wonwoo’s lap, going through his toys one by one.
“Oh yeah? What’s that one?”
Jacob laughs, trying to say bear, only for Wonwoo to help him get the word right on the third try. Wonwoo grins and holds the boy a bit tighter, only then seeming to notice you watching him. Offering you a smile, he tilts his head, starting to move but you shake your head and lift your hands.
“I’ll start breakfast.”
Smiling up at you, Jacob babbles about tater tots once again, making you and Wonwoo laugh.
“I’ll make you tots; show Wonwoo your book.”
Wonwoo smiles, reaching for the small book and offering it to the boy, who points at it and says book, then at the word on the cover.
“Colors.”
Grinning, Wonwoo smiles against the small boy's head and nods.
“That’s right. You’re smart, little man.”
You can only put a hand on your chest, feeling your heart tighten with how much you love the sight of Wonwoo with Jacob. Pulling open the fridge, you smile, listening to both of them laugh as Wonwoo helps Jacob through the book, reading each color and listening to your son repeat them back to him.
“So, if you aren’t busy tonight, would you want to come over for dinner?”
Wonwoo glances up from his computer to look at you standing next to his desk. Your tablet is in your hands as you scroll through his schedule. The two of you had done a great job at pretending like nothing had changed at work when the door was open but behind closed doors, it was a bit harder for him not to want to put you on top of his desk and eat you out. Your skirt was hugging your thighs deliciously, and all Wonwoo could think was how it had been days since the first time he had been with you. He knew he was being insatiable.
“I’m not busy; I’m never busy when it comes to spending time with you.”
You smile, unable to keep it from your lips, at Wonwoo’s words. He was a charmer and it had only gotten worse since your date and night together. You had wanted to see him again but work and Jacob made things a bit more difficult. You couldn’t just get a babysitter and take time from your son to spend it with a man. You were a mom first and Wonwoo understood that. But then Jacob started asking for “Woo,” and you knew you had to do something.
“Okay…Jacob will be with me, of course but he’s been asking to see you. He’s been asking for Woo to come back over and see him.”
God Wonwoo’s chest was tight. His heart felt like it was going to burst upon hearing that. He was desperately in love with you and he adored Jacob. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen himself as a father, but the moment Jacob sat down in his lap at your house and started showing him toys, asking him how to say them, he knew he wanted to be in that little boy’s life for the rest of his life. He wanted to be in your life.
“Oh yeah? I’d be happy to see the little man. I’ve missed him and his momma.”
That shouldn’t make you want him. That was a sweet comment. It wasn’t flirty, so why did your thighs push together on instinct? You were down bad for this man. Clearing your throat, you push together your lips, trying to stop yourself from smiling so broadly but it’s impossible as Wonwoo watches your own smile on display.
“Then I’ll see you after work, Mr. Jeon.”
Your bright smile and the use of Mr. Jeon cause Wonwoo’s breath to hitch. You were testing him. He was going to put you over the desk if he looked at you for much longer but much to his dismay, you laugh sweetly as you close his door behind you, leaving him half hard in his dress pants.
“I could do the dishes, Y/N.”
Wonwoo sighs as you smack at his hand, lifting the plates from the table. You had already told him no several times but he was trying to be insistent on helping.
“No, seriously. Go relax. Jacob will have to go to bed soon and he wanted to see you. You can’t see him if you are helping me load the dishwasher.”
Grumbling under his breath, Wonwoo leans to kiss your cheek, making you smile, and glances around for Jacob, making sure he can’t see it happening. Wonwoo had been good up to that point. He had snuck in a couple of kisses here and there, but he seemed to know to watch his hands when your son was around. You were appreciative of that.
Moving into the living room, Wonwoo smiles when Jacob perks up seeing him. He loved that look on the toddler's face and that he could be the one to put it there. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it but he would do anything to keep it there.
“What’s up, little man?”
“Woo! Turn tv on."
Wonwoo wasn’t sure what the after dinner rules were but you haven’t said that Jacob wasn’t allowed to watch television so he shrugged and slumped down on the couch, picking up the remote as Jacob pulled himself up next to him.
“What are we watching?”
Smiling, Wonwoo lets Jacob wiggle his way into his lap and back against his chest as the boy looks at the television.
“That! ‘Ook! Cars!”
Wonwoo laughs as he stops watching the movie, putting the remote next to him. It was well into the movie, the red racecar riding around the town with the tow truck as they talked to one another but Jacob seemed happy as he held his own toy car to his stomach.
Dinner had been delicious; Wonwoo’s stomach was full and now he had a warm toddler laying against him like a blanket. Jacob giggled at the movie and then curled up against him, running the wheels of his car over Wonwoo’s leg before his breaths became more steady. The little boy was starting to fall asleep as Wonwoo’s hand ran along his back calmly.
Smiling down at him, Wonwoo couldn’t help but run his fingers through Jacob’s hair as he watched his small eyes flutter closed. It was around his bedtime. Wonwoo remembered from your date that this was around the time you had mentioned so it made sense, especially with a full stomach, that he would be tired.
Maybe he should put him to bed? But then he might wake him up? Shaking his head to his own thoughts, Wonwoo just smiles as his own eyes start to close, the movie a quiet background to the soft breaths of the toddler asleep in his arms.
Finishing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, you curse under your breath, seeing the time and realizing it was past Jacob’s bedtime. It wasn’t a huge deal, but you didn’t want him to be wound up and harder to put down, especially with Wonwoo over. You start to speak but stop short when you move into the room to find Jacob asleep, laying on Wonwoo’s chest. The man’s eyes closed as he pats your son’s back gently.
Your heart was full and you felt tears on the rims of your eyes as you watched them for a few minutes, not wanting to interrupt the moment. It was so rare that Jacob was this content, and you weren’t sure how Wonwoo’s life was outside of what he had spent with you but it was nice to see him at peace.
Finally moving into the room, you turn off the television before leaning to brush your fingers over Wonwoo’s hair, causing him to smile and open his eyes to look up at you. Whispering hi, he glances down at Jacob, causing you to smile as you drop your fingers to that of your son’s hair, brushing through the slightly tangled locks, careful not to wake him.
“I can get him to bed.”
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo shakes his head and shifts slightly before looking up at you.
“I can carry him, if that’s okay with you.”
Your heart was so tight with how much you were falling for Wonwoo that it was almost painful. Pressing your lips together, you nod and take a step back, letting Wonwoo move to his feet carefully. You watch as he cradles your son to his chest, shifting him so that his little cheek rests on his shoulder, Wonwoo’s arm against his legs, and his other hand behind his back, before he smiles at you, waiting for you to lead the way.
Reaching up to pat your lips and trying to keep yourself from smiling too big, you just shake your head and start walking in the direction of Jacob’s bedroom with Wonwoo in tow. He watches as you turn on Jacob’s nightlight and pull back his covers, letting him lay down in the small bed.
“Thank you, Wonwoo.”
Smiling, Wonwoo nods at you, taking a few steps back so you can sit next to your son, tucking him in and shushing him back to a deep sleep. Leaning against the door frame, Wonwoo can’t help but picture every night going exactly like this. Watching you put Jacob to bed—perhaps another child in the future—before he would bring you back into his arms...
You nuzzle your nose against Jacob’s cheek as he smacks his lips, his little hand wrapped around your fingers. You could tell he was tired and happy and that was all you wanted in life—for your son to be happy. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you smile and lean back, carefully taking your hand back before whispering as you smooth his hair one last time.
“Goodnight, baby. I love you.”
Wonwoo watches. You have to pull yourself away from Jacob, but the moment you turn back to him, you smile, and he just shakes his head in awe of how beautiful you are. Reaching out his hand, he takes yours, leading you out into the hall and letting you stop to close Jacob’s door before he leans to press his lips against your forehead.
“Stay…”
Your words cause Wonwoo to close his eyes. He hadn’t been sure what you would want but he had hoped you wouldn’t want him to leave. Lacing your fingers with his, you turn towards your bedroom, leading Wonwoo with you.
Wonwoo’s fingers fall from yours as you step to close your door, turning to rest your back against it as he watches you. Swallowing hard, he furrows his brows, almost nervous to move this time. He didn’t want to do anything wrong, especially since he knew the two of you weren’t alone tonight and if that meant just sleeping with you in your bed, he was okay with it.
As if sensing his apprehension, you smile and step forward, pulling your shirt up and over your head, only to drop it and hear Wonwoo’s shaky breath once you are in reach of him. His fingers run over your sides and up to the clasp of your bra, resting in the middle of your back, when you look up to meet his eyes.
“Make love to me. Yes…we have to be quiet but you can still make love to me.”
Wonwoo nods, his fingers working open the clasps as he leans down to meet your lips gently at first, only to deepen the kiss when your nails scratch under his shirt, pulling him closer to you. You listen to him bite back his own groan by pushing his lips against yours when your nails dig into his skin at his hips, causing you to smile on his lips.
“Fuck, Y/N. You told me to be quiet.”
Nodding, you look up at him innocently and Wonwoo shakes his head, scoffing at you. A small squeak slips from your lips when Wonwoo’s arms slide under your ass, picking you up even for a moment so he can lay you back on your bed. Laying over you, Wonwoo grins down at you, seeing a look of surprise in your eyes.
“Don’t tease me.”
You smile, your bottom lip caught between your teeth at Wonwoo’s words. He didn’t mean it and you knew it.
“No?”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you playfully as you lift your hips, letting him help you out of your jeans and panties. Between brief kisses to your breasts, stomach, and legs, you watch Wonwoo strip out of his own clothes before he is back on your bed, resting against your headboard and pulling you onto his lap.
“I don’t think you mean it.”
Wonwoo’s brow lifts at your words before a long, soft groan slips from his lips as your hand wraps around his cock, twisting slowly. You were sitting back on his thighs just enough that he could picture you sitting on his cock but now here he was watching your pretty hand work over his length, teasing him like he had told you not to.
“I–fuck. Did mean it.”
Leaning to press a kiss to his cheek, you stroke Wonwoo’s cock from his base to his head, letting your palm roll over his head before repeating the process all over again.
"No, you didn’t. You like to be teased, Wonwoo. Least by me, I think... am I wrong, baby?”
Baby…Wonwoo groans your name when you call him the pet name. God, you were his, and he wanted you forever. You were right about everything. In the past, he had hated to be teased but as you pressed your thumb into his slit and then played with the pre-cum that oozed from his tip, Wonwoo could only pant out your name like a prayer.
“I’m not wrong. You are so wet, baby. You came so much inside me last time. Will you cum as much this time?”
Since when did you talk this dirty? You had been so shy. Where did this confidence come from? Wonwoo was in love with every side of you. The shy little pillow princess that he had fucked into the mattress last time and this vixen who was making him whimper like a puppy looking for a treat now.
“Yeah…fuck, yeah. I will... for you. Babe…fuck me. Let me be inside you. Don’t make me cum like this, please?”
Jeon Wonwoo was begging you. Swallowing hard, you feel the power of that rush to your brain and between your legs as arousal drips from you and onto his thighs. This was the same man that you had daydreamed at work about letting him push your skirt up and fuck you over his desk and now you’d have new daydreams. Perhaps you’d do this exact thing at work as you sat on his desk, watching him try to work.
This man was bad for your work professionalism.
Wonwoo’s head falls back against the headboard as you lower yourself down over him. He had missed your pussy. He had missed being inside of you. He had dreamt about it. Not only fucking you but just being inside of you. Just sitting and being warm inside your walls as he worked or watched television. You were that good.
With your hands resting on his chest, you whimper Wonwoo’s name, feeling that now familiar stretch as he pushes his hips up to meet yours. Sliding his feet up on the bed, Wonwoo grasps your hips and lifts you up to rest your knees on the mattress on either side of him so he can thrust up into you slowly and deeply.
Wonwoo was already close. You had put him right on the edge of his climax with your hand, and now your perfect pussy was gripping him like a warm, wet vice, and his head was spinning. Reaching down with his right hand, Wonwoo rubs his thumb between your folds and you have to bite down on your lips to stop the scream from escaping your lips with how quickly your own orgasm starts to sneak up on you. The pressure between the way his cock fills you up and the circles his thumb draws over the bundle of nerves plummets you over the edge.
With your thighs shaking, you fall forward, your mouth resting against Wonwoo as you orgasm hard and fast. Clenching his jaw, Wonwoo breathes through the feeling of your body, milking him for every last drop he has to offer until he can’t stand it anymore and gives it to you. With a groan you are quick to silence, Wonwoo thrusts up hard, pressing his hips flush with yours as he cums as he promised, filling you just as full as he had the first time.
Your body is weak as you rest against him, and you can’t help but laugh softly as Wonwoo’s hand runs along your back. Letting out a slow breath, Wonwoo shakes his head and starts to speak when the sound of tiny cries comes from a room down the hall, drawing your attention.
“Jacob is awake…”
With a look of panic in your eyes, Wonwoo watches as you quickly but carefully climb from him to rush to the bathroom as he reaches for a tissue, cleaning up the best he can before pulling on his sweatpants. The sound of tiny feet and then hands smacking your door broke Wonwoo’s heart as he glanced at your bathroom door.
Unsure what to do, Wonwoo paces in place, meeting your eyes when you move out of the bathroom dressed in a long t-shirt. Raising his hands, Wonwoo whines as you whisper it’s okay to him and you move to the door, opening it for Jacob.
Moving into your arms, Jacob sobs softly and mutters about scary things and a dream as you pat his back, lifting him into your arms. Watching for a moment, Wonwoo glances around the room, quickly picking up a few clothes before moving towards you to run his hand over Jacob’s hair, drawing the toddler’s attention.
“It’s okay, little man. Your momma’s here.”
You smile as your son sniffs away his tears nuzzling against you for a moment longer before reaching for Wonwoo, causing the man to mutter a surprised oh.
“Yeah, okay. I got ya… what do we—”
He looked so lost and handsome that it broke your heart. Laughing softly, you move to your bed as Wonwoo comforts your son, bouncing him gently in his arms. Pulling back the covers, you pat your bed and Wonwoo nods, moving to lay Jacob down, only for the boy to cling to his neck, pulling him towards him.
“It’s okay, Wonwoo... lay down with him. You are comforting.”
Jacob whines when Wonwoo looks unsure, a panicked “Woo!” falling from the toddler's lips, making Wonwoo’s face soften as he lays down next to your son, letting the child curl up on his chest.
“I think, for one, you remind him of his dad and for two, he really likes you. I can’t blame him.”
His cheeks burning, Wonwoo smiles at you, lifting his hand to brush Jacob’s hair from his forehead as the boy finds a comfortable spot.
“Just don't… I don’t wanna overstep.”
Shaking your head, you turn off the light before sliding into the bed next to Wonwoo and Jacob, feeling a tiny hand reach for you, pulling you closer to him and Wonwoo.
“You aren’t.”
Wonwoo can only nod as he listens to Jacob’s breath steady out. The same sound of the toddler falling asleep on the couch starts to make him feel at peace as he watches Jacob relax, and he finally looks at you as you brush Jacob’s hair with your fingers humming softly under your breath.
He isn’t sure how long he watches you, and just listens to you softly sing your son to sleep but when you finally meet his eyes, giving him a smile, Wonwoo can’t help himself. You are the most beautiful you have ever been, just like this, and this is the most he has ever been in love with in his entire life. So he just says it...
“I love you, Y/N.”
You don’t say it back. It isn’t that you don’t love Wonwoo back; it’s that you weren’t expecting it. Especially not like this. Not while he is holding your son, looking exactly how you would love to see him for the rest of your life. You bury your mouth against your pillow, your cheeks burning as Wonwoo’s fingers brush over them and he smiles, seeming to know, before he closes his eyes, letting you off the hook for the night.
After a few moments, you listen to the sound of Wonwoo and Jacob’s breaths as the two most important men in your life sleep, and your head spins with how lucky you are before you follow them both in both restful and restless sleep.
Mingyu makes a face as he carefully adds the pork belly to the pot on the stove as Wonwoo leans over the island, watching him like a hawk.
“Do you want to make the Bossam?”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo leans back and points at his rice maker, clearing his throat.
“I said I could make rice.”
Seungcheol laughs, leaning back in his chair and listening to his friends banter. He wasn’t sure why they were all over at Wonwoo’s place hours before dinner, but if Wonwoo needed emotional support, they would provide it.
“I’d prefer to eat something edible, Gyu, so please keep Wonwoo out of the kitchen, even if he owns it.”
Wonwoo mocks Seungcheol as he leans over the sink, washing the rice, hearing Mingyu chuckle behind him. He was grateful they were there. He had wanted you to meet a few of his close friends. Perhaps not all of them at once, but at least a few of them, so he asked you over to dinner without thinking about what he would make or order. Lucky for him, his best friend was Kim Mingyu.
Seokmin peeks over Mingyu’s shoulder, grabbing a piece of cabbage to snack on, only to have his hand smacked by the larger man as he curses under his breath, shooing him away.
“Mingyu’s a jerk. I was just trying to help.”
Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning it over to rest on Seungcheol’s shoulder as the eldest of the friend group chuckles into a sigh. There was only one of them missing tonight who had accepted the invitation, but the sound of Wonwoo’s door beeping and a loud hello announced Soonyoung’s arrival.
Wonwoo glances over to the last of his friends to arrive as he holds up two bags with a grin on his face, feeling proud of himself. His jacket has a tiger print that makes Wonwoo groan in embarrassment as he quickly remembers that you will be there in just a couple of hours around these men that he has told you are perfectly normal and good people.
“I brought refreshments. Seokmin told me that Wonwoo’s girlfriend will be here and probably doesn’t get to party much so I will change that.”
Dropping the rice into the maker, Wonwoo sighs loudly before pressing the button to start the cooking before all eyes are on him, including Soonyoung.
“It’s…look, okay? This isn’t a party. If she wants a drink, that's great, but don’t treat this like some frat party.”
Mingyu purses his lips, putting a basil leaf into the pot, before he glances up to watch Soonyoung’s reaction to Wonwoo’s words.
“I’m just trying to make sure your girlfriend has a good time, Wonwoo.”
Wiping away some grains of dry rice from the counter, Wonwoo laughs at Soonyoung’s words, but the laugh is one of unamusement as he shakes his head.
“I–we haven’t discussed what we are. I just wanted her to meet my friends—you know, my family. So just be nice to her. Just get to know her and be on your best behavior.”
Sitting up, causing Jeonghan to have to do the same, Seungcheol clears his throat as he rubs his thighs, nodding.
“We can do that, man. Soonyoung…lose the jacket. We’ve grown up; we can act classy for a night.”
Wonwoo grimaces at Seungcheol’s words, especially hearing Jeonghan’s light chuckle. He wasn’t so sure but he was willing to let them try.
“No, seriously. He ate ramen for six months before he became my roommate. It was tragic.”
Your laugh makes Wonwoo smile, though his cheeks burn from Mingyu’s words. He should have known the conversation would turn to college and how each of them had met, but he didn’t know his friends would be so quick to air his “dirty laundry.”
“Y/N? Would you like another drink?”
Soonyoung’s voice draws your attention, and you can’t help but coo at the man. He had been so sweet to you and made the most delicious Manhattans. Nodding, you watch him hurry off to the bar cart as Wonwoo leans back in his chair beside you, a glass of whisky in his hand that he had been nursing for some time.
“The food was wonderful.”
Wonwoo smiles and nods, glancing at Mingyu, who seems to shy away, turning to Seokmin to speak.
“Compliments of our personal chef, Kim Mingyu. I swear, if he hadn’t gone into business, he would have gone into the culinary arts like Junhui.”
You smile brightly, leaning forward to look at Mingyu as he shyly meets your eyes. He wasn’t at all what you had mistaken him for. Wonwoo had been right; the playboy persona was an act for the press and underneath it was a good soul who was going to make someone very happy one day.
“The best food I’ve had in years. Perhaps better than what Wonwoo treated me to last week, seriously.”
Jeonghan grins, reaching towards the middle of the table for one of the cupcakes he had provided for dessert, only to place it in front of you.
“Don’t stroke his ego too much. Here, speaking of where you ate last week, I picked these up today for dinner. I thought you might enjoy them.”
You watch as Jeonghan sits back down, reaching for his glass of wine, as Seungcheol, who sat on his right, reaches for a cupcake curiously.
“What did you get, Han?”
The man grins while watching you cut your cupcake in half, the center melting, causing you to gasp in surprise. Wonwoo just smiles, resting his free hand against the back of your chair as you pick up half of the cupcake, bringing it to your lips to take a bite, before closing your eyes in wonder.
In that instant, Wonwoo wished the two of you were alone. It was one of those moments when he wanted to watch you enjoy something alone, but when you laugh, lifting your fingers to your lips to clean a bit of melted chocolate from them, he can’t help but smile into his own laugh.
“Is it good?”
You whisper a yes and nod at Wonwoo, lifting the rest of the cupcake half towards him, making him flustered as he leans to take it from your fingers as his friends watch. Jeonghan just smirks, tilting his head, feeling like his job was complete. He knew love when he saw it. He was schooled in it, having acted like he was in love hundreds of times but real love... that gave off a feeling and he could feel it even from feet away between you and Wonwoo.
Seungcheol nods at the taste of the cupcake, muttering that it was good, until Jeonghan elbows his side and nods towards you and Wonwoo, making him shut up and smile. Seokmin and Mingyu had noticed and tried to keep their conversation low but Soonyoung, in his own world, put your drink in front of you and gestured towards it proudly.
“One Manhattan for the lovely lady, compliments of Kwon Soonyoung.”
Kicking his leg out, Mingyu hears Soonyoung complain about being kicked before he almost notices you giving lovey eyes to Wonwoo, and he backs off with a chuckle.
“Oops…I’ll just—I’ll go over here.”
Wonwoo groans, licking his lips, as the moment is ruined and you can’t help but laugh, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place. So many of Wonwoo’s friends were there and you were, in essence, being rude by monopolizing his time and making the atmosphere awkward.
“Sorry…”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo watches you start to put your hand down as he takes your hand in his and kisses your fingers.
“Don’t be. Enjoy your drink.”
Wonwoo watches you after dinner as he cleans up. He can’t help but smile as you do, chuckle when you laugh at Seungcheol’s stupid jokes. He finds himself happily watching from across the room as his friends go on about how they adore you and how you are welcome to call them anytime.
That was what he had wanted. They loved you; how could they not? He knew exactly who you were and he knew his friends. There was no way you all wouldn’t get along.
“I just don’t have time to date. Wonwoo’s lucky; he found you. He’s always been the lucky one in our group, if I’m honest.”
You smile at Seokmin as he leans against the back of the couch, his head on his hand as his elbow presses into the cushion. Wonwoo was finishing up the last of the cleaning with Mingyu in tow, and you had already said goodbye to Soonyoung and Jeonghan.
Seungcheol just smiles at you, thinking how wonderful you are, as his eyes move back to one of his best friends as he laughs talking to Mingyu in the kitchen, putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. He was listening to two conversations when you said his name, making him look over at you fondly.
“Hm?”
“I was just asking if you were in the same boat as Seokmin or if there was a lucky somebody for me to hang out with at the next function."
Grinning, Seungcheol shakes his head and sighs heavily, lifting his hands off his legs before putting them back down.
“I guess we’ve all been wrapped up in work but I won’t lie... Seeing Wonwoo this happy makes me wanna try.”
Seokmin just nods in agreement, making your cheeks warm up as you look over at the man who had made you smile more recently than you could remember.
“He’s liked you for such a long time, Y/N. He’s a good guy. I know things aren’t perfect for him, and he’d probably be pissed at me for saying this but he’s genuine.”
Looking down at your hands as Seungcheol speaks, you just nod, understanding what he was saying, before you hear him sigh and stand up, drawing your attention upwards.
“You’re leaving?”
The man nods, glancing at his watch, causing you to frown.
“It’s getting late and it’s only going to get colder. They are calling for snow, you know?”
You hadn’t looked at the weather today, but he had made a good point. Seokmin makes a face at the idea of the cold before sighing and standing up, making you pout and follow his lead so you can say goodbye to both of them.
Moving from the kitchen, Wonwoo looks surprised when Seungcheol offers him a hug, followed by Seokmin, who then moves to you to do the same. You really did feel like you had been welcomed into his family, and it was causing you to feel a bit overwhelmed suddenly.
“I guess it is getting late. Let me see these guys out, and I’ll be right back.”
Mingyu groans, looking at his phone, before moving to you to hug you tightly, causing you to laugh at how strong his grip is and yet how warm it feels.
“Don’t be a stranger, Y/N. I like you better than him.”
You feel Mingyu’s head move towards yours before he laughs, and you know that Wonwoo has pushed him, making you smile as he offers you a wink and all the men leave you in the large living area alone. You hear their voices trail off as you wrap your arms around yourself and walk towards the large windows that offer a view of the city for miles.
Sighing, you furrow your brows at how cold you suddenly feel in such a large house. You hadn’t seen all of it but even in just this space, you felt out of place. You were beginning to remember how different your life was from Wonwoo’s as you started to turn from the window, only to see a bookshelf holding a vast number of books and picture frames. One in particular catches your eye.
In the picture, you see Wonwoo, much smaller and younger than he is now, in the middle of a group of other boys. They look to be around 19 or 20 years old as they stand in front of a frat house. You look around at the other faces, and you can pick out Mingyu, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. Your lips pull up into a smile as you run your index fingernail over Wonwoo’s smiling face as Mingyu holds his shoulders and another much shorter man on his other side.
He hadn’t always had what he has now, you remind yourself. He had told you that many times. You didn’t feel comfortable now but perhaps he hadn’t always either. Maybe it was cold and lonely at times in this big house when he was alone, and you find yourself frowning as you look at the picture, counting the men, including Wonwoo. Thirteen. He had lived with twelve others, and now he was alone. No…not anymore.
Walking back into the room, Wonwoo stops seeing you by the window with a picture frame in your hand. He can’t help but smile a bit at how pretty you are at first, but then the smile fades as he sees the concerned look on your face when he gets closer. Wrapping his arms around you from behind, Wonwoo rests his chin on your shoulder and looks down at the picture of him with his friends in college; he was still friends with all of them. They had all reached varying levels of success, like they had promised. He was proud of all of them.
“Are you okay?”
You nod but then sigh, leaning back against Wonwoo as you put the picture back on his shelf, sliding your fingers along his arms and glancing back out of the window at the view. Wonwoo follows your eyes but he focuses more on your reflection in the window.
“Are you lonely, Wonwoo?”
Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo holds you closer and tightens his hand on yours as you lace your fingers with his. “No…I mean, not now. I used to be.”
You were right. Sighing softly, you slide your free hand along his arm and shake your head as you look out at the city. Seungcheol had been right. It looked like the weather was getting worse. It looked like it was going to snow.
“Why do you ask, baby?”
Shaking your head again, you just smile softly, leaning your cheek against Wonwoo’s.
“This house is so big for just you. I worried you might be lonely.”
Wonwoo can’t help but smile at your reasoning. He loved you so much and your caring heart. Leaning to kiss your cheek, Wonwoo feels you smile again as you let out a soft breath.
“I love you, Y/N.”
His words are spoken against your cheek as you watch the first bit of snow begin to fall. Your tiny happy gasp causes Wonwoo to look out the window as you make a happy sound, commenting on how pretty it is—the first snow of the season.
“Mm, it is pretty, and so are you.”
Turning in Wonwoo’s arms, you feel his fingers run along your dress at the small of your back as he smiles down at you. Your eyes meet his almost shyly, before he leans down to press his lips to yours gently as your fingers hold his face on either side with a featherlight touch.
“I love you, Wonwoo.”
Hearing you say the words back to him for the first time, Wonwoo freezes and smiles against your lips. He simply sighs, happily stepping in closer to you, his hands pulling your body in tighter to his as he deepens the kiss briefly before letting you take a breath so he can rest his forehead on yours.
“Say it again.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, as Wonwoo traces the line of your zipper up the middle of your back to your shoulders so he can pull it down as he waits for you to speak. It’s only when you tell him that you love him that he drags the zipper down.
“I love you too. So, so fucking much.”
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strip for me.
part five | lhs.
pairings: hyungline x reader
synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.
wc: 8k
warnings: smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.
note: lee heeseung’s solo part. next one will be jay’s. thank you so much for supporting my works and loving strip for me series. also, this doesn’t have heavy smut since i want to show the boy’s affection with reader outside the bed even more. anyway, reblogs and replies are highly encouraged.
part one; two; three; four
slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.
you got sick the day after. maybe because your body got overwhelmed and didn’t expect that kind of activity. they let you rest for as long as you like until you finally regained your senses.
it was almost 10 pm when heeseung drove you home. both of you silent throughout the drive. heeseung’s glancing at you from time to time, but you refused looking at him.
your mom isn’t really skeptical about it. its also a good thing that she didn’t wonder why the hell did you get sick the day after because you have no idea what will you tell her.
today’s saturday. you skipped school yesterday and just laid on your bed the whole time.
your mind is still occupied by the big question: ‘what are you for those boys?’
they did took care of you that definitely ruin the whole concept of you being their toy and made you confused. the switch up is totally odd as well. they’re always so rude and harsh towards you, then suddenly they went soft and gentle.
that tho, didn’t change the fact that you felt used. (name)’s words kept repeating inside your mind like a broken radio.
a faint knock on your bedroom door snaps you out of you thoughts.
“y/n?” its your mom. “you have visitors. your friends are here.” she announced that draws your brows together.
“friends?” you’re beyond confuse.
nobody ever visited you, and more importantly, what friends? while feeling a little disoriented, you forced yourself out of the bed then faced the mirror once.
the smile on your mother’s face is bright, looking so delighted. she feels excited by this visit she’s referring to, you can tell by how she ushered you down the staircase.
“mom, wait.” you tried calming her down because you can’t think properly on who those friends she’s talking about.
“come on! they’re waiting.” and finally, you made it to the last step then she almost drag you to the spacious living room.
your lips gapped when you saw them dominates the sofa set by the middle. its just the four of them but it seem too crowded. maybe because they’re all so tall and now the average looking sofa looks a bit small for them.
they all whipped their heads on your direction the moment you stepped inside. you cannot exactly tell the look on their faces. your mom smiles and tugs your arm lightly.
“they said they’ve been worried, sweetie. why didn’t you told them that you’re sick?” she pouts.
you blinked, pushing the tears back inside your eyes. its a bit annoying. how you planned to ignore them after what happened and now you can feel your heart warms up just by seeing them here. how all the courage to finally end it dissipates along with your anger for the four fine men in front of you.
its kind of sickening. you find yourself pathetic for actually letting them affect you this way. they make you feel worthless, but at the same time they’re the only ones who can make you feel special.
“i’m s-sorry, it slipped off my mind.” you sniffed and tried to hide the real emotion through a half-smile.
your mom totally bought that reason. she hums and then she can hear a faint ringing from the other side of the house.
“oh! that must be my workmate. i’ll leave you guys here, okay? i will order food for you guys.” she coos and then exits the living room, leaving you alone with them.
their eyes settles at you, flashing with an foreign look on it. that made you feel uneasy so you glanced away.
“sweets,” jake was the first one to approach you closer, reaching for your arm.
his heart sank when you yank it back, declining his affection. he looks surprised and he wanted to try again, but he doesn’t want to push it.
“why are y-you here?” your voice cracks and looked at them one by one.
jay looks concerned, heeseung have his usual calm composure and sunghoon’s brows are furrowed. you can’t tell if he’s mad or worried. he stood up, stopping himself to advance towards you. he doesn’t want to scare you.
“we just want to check on you...” sunghoon says in his softest tone. he licked his lips, blinking multiple times to try and calm himself.
your view of sunghoon got covered when jake steps closer, his brows furrowed hardly and eyes glistening with sadness. his hand hangs mid way, attempting to get in touch of you, craving it.
“we got worried when you skipped class yesterday. we tried to call you, sweetheart.” jake looks desperate. it slightly broke your heart seeing him this way. his mischievous smile long gone.
“but you ignored all of us...” it was jay who talked this time.
you gave him a short glance. the stare stays for a while before you pursed your lips to sigh heavily. chest tightens and mind all messed up.
“what happened, sweets?” jake steps closer.
out of all of them, he’s the most touch deprived. one day without you and he’s all over the place. not to mention that you’ve been ignoring all of them. none of their attempts to contact you became successful and its sending him in distress.
you glanced at him then took a step backward. it pinned him on his position, eyes blank. jake looks in pain, but you looked much worst.
heeseung may seem calm, but behind this composed demeanour is his mind being a mess. he’s in panic. he never seen you this way and honestly he’s not prepared. he gulps and tries to gather himself.
“jake...” he calls his friend to stop him from advancing more.
as expected, he didn’t listen and attempts to take another step but a tear escaping your eye is what halts him from doing so. they never seen you this bothered and terrified before.
“sweets...” jake almost chokes on air when he softly tries to call you.
“p-please leave.” your breaths heavy, and chest painful from thinking that you’ll be ending what you have with them
its messed up. its very wrong. the set up is fucked up, but you can’t deny that you’ve gained more than you lost from this—whatever you call this.
it may sound exaggerated, but you think you saw all of their faces lose color. their eyes flickers fear and shoulders hangs low after hearing what you said.
“s-sweets...” jake’s voice cracks, trying to earn some sympathy. he never done that. he isn’t someone so weak. he always know where he stand and his power he holds over people. but not at the moment, specially not in front of you.
heeseung clenches his jaw to hide his trembling lips. he unclasped his fist, realizing he’s been doing that ever since you’ve walked inside the room.
jay’s in shambles. he doesn’t know what to feel at the moment. he’s always been the nonchalant one. never shown that there’s a weak spot in him. but now that you seem to be slipping away from him, he’s lost. he can feel his heart aching, hands shaking and breaths shorten.
sunghoon’s silent. his eyes never left you, fists balled tightly. he’s cursing himself. for being so ruthless and aggressive. he’s blaming it all to him and his friends. they’re so selfish. and you’re just too perfect. you did nothing wrong. it was all on them.
“y/n,” heeseung licks his lips and this time he trudges closer. jake glances at him, eyes full of hope. maybe his heeseung hyung can fix this mess. he can, right? that’s what echoes inside his mind.
“angel...” he gulps and you noticed how he’s a little off right now. he’s far from the reserve and calm, heeseung you’re used to.
he looks... anxious. the fear and trepidation flashes clearly through his eyes. something you’ve never seen before.
“tell me what’s wrong, hmm? we’ll talk about it.” he says using his calmest tone. “we’ll figure things out.”
that caught you off-guard. if there’s something about these four men have in common is that they love being in control of you. they get off seeing fear and watching you submit to them.
so to hear him saying those words are new for you. talk? will they really listen? what if they just laugh at you if you opened it up to them.
those questions clouded your mind to the point that you didn’t notice jake approaching closer. heeseung wanted to stop him, but he knew there’s no preventing jake from getting close. its either he lets him or he’ll completely lose it.
jake’s warm hands wraps over your wrist is what snaps you back in to your senses.
“sweets...” he calls you. his eyes scanned your face and wait if you’ll resist his affection once again.
he gulps, hope igniting when you didn’t shove his hold off. he took a step closer and this time cups your face. your cheeks warm that sent comfort to jake.
“tell us what’s wrong...” he whispers, pleading. he rest his forehead on top of yours and shut his eyes. “please.” he added.
that made you cry. because you got scared. you’re afraid to confront them because it may end everything.
“what a-am i to you, really?” you started that caught them off-guard.
“y-you guys...” they kept their stares right at your face, waiting attentively to what you’re about to say.
“you treat me like a toy. you’re playing with me like as if i d-don’t have feelings.”
if the scene moments ago hurts them, then this surely broke everything in them. they were silent for a while. reflecting to all the things they’ve done so far to you. yes, they were a little less insolent the other day, but what they did to you probably made you misunderstand it.
jake was the first one to retract, “what? no, sweetheart.” he licks his lips and cares your cheeks gently. he shakes his head continuously.
“we...” he gulps, nervous. he locks his gaze at you and softens, tears brimming his eyes. “i love you.” he blurted out that made you hitch your breath.
that obviously is not what you expected to get from him. specially from jake. he’s the player, always have girls around him. you’ve never heard him say those words to anyone.
your eyes stares right at his desperate ones, trying to search for any traces of mischief over them. but none. sincerity and desperation is all you can see through them.
a warm hand rests at the small of your back then someone rests his forehead at the side of your head. his familiar manly scent invades your nose.
jay’s eyes are tightly closed when you try to glance at him. his jaw clenched hard as his hand bore onto your back.
“i’m sorry if you misunderstood us, baby. that’s not how we want things to escalate.” he mumbles so softly. nuzzling close to you, like as if it will help ease those pain away.
it made you sob. heeseung approaches and his friends gave space for him. he grabs one of your hand and caress it. while staring at your eyes, he placed a gentle kiss on it while the other two boys tries to hugs you. jake’s got his face buries on the crook of your neck, jay remains standing beside you.
“i’m sorry, angel. we...” he couldn’t continue right away. he gulps. “we didn’t know this is how you feel.”
tears streams down your face. continuously. and your chest aches, but this time its for a different reason. you didn’t expect any of these. you imagined them scoffing and laughing at you for actually catching feelings for them. they basically mistreated you.
jake tightens his hug on you, refusing to let go. his warmth envelopes you. jay has his hand placed at the small of your back, caressing it up and down. heeseung has your hand, kissing it from time to time.
the three of them whispered their sorries. they totally feel bad. as your eyes roams around, it caught sunghoon’s.
he’s still standing at his place. didn’t move a step. he’s just there, watching all of this unfold. his heart aches, that’s for sure. he wanted to come close to you too just like how his friends are trying to console you, but his feet are stoned.
he cannot do it. he’s afraid.
out of all of them, he’s the meanest. he says the most hurtful and degrading words towards you. of course, he meant none of them. he’s just caught up in the moment and to the thought of dominating you.
his heart drops at the sight of your tear stained eyes. all those times he’s been rough on you flashes back through his mind like a montage. he hates it. he hates himself.
heeseung whips his head back to look over his shoulder. he can see how sunghoon has his fists balled. how he looked scared. he’s never seen him this way.
“dude.” he calls.
jake lifts his head to look at his friend, jay’s watching too. sunghoon kept silent, his lips shaken.
“h-hoon?” you called him out, now starting to feel worried by how he’s acting.
sunghoon’s eyes stings as it heats up. he knew he’s tearing up, but he won’t let you see him shed tears. not because he’s trying to mask it ouy, but 'cause he knew it will make you even sadder. he’s scared that he will cause more damage.
his eyes met his heeseung hyung and he nods with a small encouraging smile. the four of them grew up together. they’ve known each other their whole life, so he knew why sunghoon’s not approaching.
its not because he’s mad. he’s being careful. and sunghoon’s never been like this towards someone.
sunghoon gulps then take small courageous steps. your eyes watch him carefully, waiting patiently.
when he’s steps away from you, his eyes softens and you saw how his hand trembles when he lifts it to touch you. he backs out, hesitating to lay his hand on you.
“i’m sorry.” he says in a low voice.
it was such a short sentence but the amount of emotion his eyes shows is enought to let you know that he has so many more that he wants to say.
your eyes scanned his face. slowly, you laid your hand out for him. its a way to let him know that its fine and that you allow him to touch you.
his eyes darts at it. he contemplates, but eventually reaches out. your warm hands sent comfort to sunghoon’s cold ones. it gave him life.
“i’m sorry, pretty. w-we’re really sorry.” he mumbles as he buries his face on your neck. his big figure almost covers you up from heeseung’s perspective.
they watch silently. thankful that you’re just too nice to even let them be this close to you. they exchange look to each other and knew they had to do something to make it up to you.
“forgive us, angel. we’ll do better from now on.” heeseung says and rest his big hands on your hip.
you looked at him and kept silent.
honestly, you’ve been thinking of ending it between them. the amount of stress and overthinking you’ve been going through because of them was unhealthy. you promised that after confronting them and if they confirmed that they’re just here for the fun, you’ll bolt out.
but... this is totally a big turn of events.
your lips stretched a little. a subtle gentle smile, but still visible to their eyes are what relieved them.
“okay.”
jake rushes closer and kisses your cheeks multiple times. “really, sweets? thank you! i love you!” he excitedly mumbled between his kisses.
you felt sunghoon’s big strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist.
“thanks, baby. we will try our best.” jay caught your attention when he rest his hand on top of your head, giving it light taps.
the corner of his lips lifts before leaning to kiss you on the lips. “i love you.” he whispers, like he doesn’t want the other boys to hear. like it was only meant for you.
jake steps in, the sulky boy in him coming out. “kiss me on the lips too!” he argues and pouts his plump lips.
jay snorted and swat his arms. you chuckles and lets him lean in for a swift kiss. his eyes sparkling after that smooch.
heeseung’s hands digs on your hip as he leans silently to drop a kiss on your lips. it was soft and lasts for a few seconds. when he pulls away, he remains close and smiles.
“thank you, angel. we’ll be good boyfriends. right?” he says and looks at his friends which they responded with nods.
you blushed, “b-boyfriends?” surprised.
heeseung smirks then nods, “you’re our girl.” he pinches your cheeks lightly. “not some toy.”
sunghoon places a kiss on your neck then pulls away. his eyes bores to you. they glisten affection and relief.
“our pretty girl.” he whispers and dips his head to give you a feathery hot kiss on the lips.
your eyes opens when he pulls away.
“we need to work on our issues in order for this to work. we don’t want another misunderstanding like this.” heeseung announces.
“do you have anything else you don’t like, angel? except from us being total assholes...” he cleared his throat.
your mind wonders. “i d-didn’t like what we did the last time. its o-overwhelming...”
they all looked at you with cute eyes then jay chuckles. “i mean she did passed out that time. her stamina couldn’t handle it.” he says.
heeseung nods, “at least we get to try it once, right?” he smirks, the memories of the night still lingers to his mind.
you blushed and glanced away.
“is that all, angel?”
you look back at heeseung and nodded.
“please stop being aggressive.” you reminded, ears turning red.
they almost cooed at how adorable you looked.
“we promise.” they say almost in unison then approaches for a group hug with you in the middle, making sure they aren’t squishing you too much.
“but we can still do threesome, right?” jake asks innocently that made all of you whip your heads at his direction.
“jake!” they all hissed at him for still being horny despite the wholesome situation that only made you chuckle.
“hi!” you shyly greets when you saw heeseung outside of your house, leaning over his black audi.
its monday morning and you’re beyond surprise to receive a text message from him saying he’ll be picking you up for school. of course you got excited. this will be the first time.
“good morning, beautiful.” he smirks and snakes his arms around your waist to pull you closer.
your cheeks blushed at his words then stomach churns when he leans in for a kiss. it seems so natural. like this is your usual morning routine.
“get in.” he instruct and even open the door for you.
once inside, he swiftly walks around to ride the driver’s seat. then off you go. it was a short drive, but it isn’t awkward. heeseung’s asking questions from time to time to start a conversation while a low music plays on his radio.
the moment his car enters the parking area designated for the students, you saw familiar boys. jay’s leaning over his car while jake and sunghoon bickers about something.
“oh they’re early.” you mumble because usually you arrive first.
heeseung’s always on time since he’s the school’s president. jay and jake arrives at school just on time. sunghoon’s the one always late, unless he have his morning practices.
their heads whips at your direction once they heard the familiar blaring of heeseung’s car. jake turns his back over hoon then waves like an excited puppy. he for sure cannot see you yet as the car is heavily tinted, but it made you smile. he’s so cute.
he’s on your side of the door once heeseung’s done parking it. he waits until the car’s unlocked and then open it for you.
“sweetheart!” he greets happily then hugs you.
heeseung shakes his head while smirking then unclasped your seatbelt for you as you’re busy greeting jake, returning his hug.
jay and sunghoon walks closer as well then hoon went to grab your things from the backseat. he naturally carries it, letting one strap hangs on his arm.
“hey, baby.” jay greets and placed a kiss on your cheek.
“hi jay.”
“i arrived earlier than both of them!” jake interrupts, proudly letting you know how he’s very punctual today.
“wow, that’s great jakey.” you complimented him and his eyes sparkles.
“yeah, right. you’re so childish.” sunghoon commented before leaning towards you for his kiss.
all of you walks on the hallways together. sunghoon and heeseung’s is a few steps ahead while jake’s beside you telling you about his dog. even showing you her cute pictures and bragging how she’s the smartest dog ever. which sunghoon quickly argues that his dog is much better.
jay’s on your other side, silently listening to his friend’s playful banters. he’s very used to it already and slowly, you too.
curious eyes follows the five of you. there’s a hint of surprise and judgment through them. some are whispering, some just stares with mouth slightly gapped and others just don’t care.
honestly, it bothers you. their eyes carefully watching you is making you uneasy. it felt so weird being watched that it makes you wonder how these boys got used to this.
jake’s warm hand envelops yours that caught your attention. he smiles, his red plump lips distracting you.
“don’t mind them, sweets. they’re just jealous.” he whispers, eyes staring straight at yours.
with blushing cheeks, you blinked twice. “w-why? because i’m with you guys?”
he shakes his head and leans closer, his lips grazing your ears that made your stomach drop. “because you’re ours.”
to say that your face turns red is an understatement. your heart races and he just winks then continues talking about other things.
when you arrived at the classroom, they’re all looking curiously. wondering why these boys are acting this way around you. as far as they remember, they used to bully you around. basically why you end up becoming a loner.
“here, pretty.” sunghoon says and placed your things at the side of the chair. you thanked him and he just smiled before walking to his seat.
jay and heeseung did the same but jake remains near you, pouting hardly.
“can’t i move seats?” he complains.
you chuckle and cares his arm, “go to your seat now, jakey.”
he sighs and wants to lean to give a kiss but stops himself. you did talked about them not to do pda in public or at least when around a lot of people. not everyone is open for this kind of relationship, you just don’t want any issues.
“jake, stop being sulky and sit down.” jay calls him then rolls his eyes.
the said boy just raises his fist and showed his middle finger to his friend. you chuckled and just sat down so jake can go to his chair.
eventually, the homeroom teacher walks inside for morning reminders. she mentioned the upcoming fieldtrip which slightly riles you up. you’re excited to go at the museums and such.
during the breaktime, the boys accompanied you. sunghoon and jake to be specific. the other two are busy on student council so its just the three of you.
“what do you want to eat, doll?” sunghoon asks while pulling a chair for you.
jake’s playing with the edge of your hair while watching you carefully.
“anything is fine.”
hoon nods once, “i’ll order for you.”
“thank you, hoon.” with a smile.
he smirks then squeezed your hand before walking off. jake and you sat down at the table.
“did heeseung hyung told you already?” he starts.
“about?”
“he’s taking you out on a date later.” he says casually while doing something to his phone. his forehead narrows, very focus.
“a d-date?”
he hums, answering your question with a short nod. he’s not looking at you, still hooked to his phone. “where?”
he shrugs, “have no idea.”
your heart hammered just by the thought of going on a date with thee lee heeseung. yes, they did said that they’ll make it up to you and that confirmed your relationship with them, but sometimes it still don’t sink in.
they’re your boyfriends...
your eyes caught the glimpse of what jake’s doing and you got distracted. its a picture of you. that was the first time you saw it.
“is that me?”
jake whips his head at you then smiled, “yes! i’m putting you as my wallpaper.” then he clicked something before locking it and opening the screen to show you.
its a candid picture of you. you forgot when it was, but it was obvious that you’re unaware of him taking that photo. you’re focused on something.
“beautiful, isn’t it?” his smug smirk looked adorable. he cocked his eyebrow once, smirking wider. “that’s my girlfriend.”
you blushed even harder. “stop it.”
he chuckled, finding you adorable. instead of stopping, he stared more intensely making you even more flustered.
“j-jake..” and you glance away.
“fine, i’ll stop.” finally, he glances away, his big grin not wiping off.
sunghoon arrives afterwards and the three of you enjoys the time together before going back to your class.
during your vacant, some of your classmates are doing random things inside the room. you find it a waste to just do nothing and remembered about the history assignment.
you stood up and instantly, four heads whips at your direction. when the bell rang and one of the students announced that it was your vacant, they all naturally gathered around you.
“where are you going?” they almost ask at the same time.
“a-at the library.” you answered, shy that all of their attention is now directed at you. its slowly becoming a habit, but that’s something you will never get used to.
“i’ll go with you.” heeseung was quick to stand up and fix his uniform slightly before carding his soft black hair once.
you gulped, “o-okay...” and your eyes dropped at the three boys who remains sitting down.
sunghoon smiles, “see you later, doll. i’m sleepy.” he reasons then leans over his table.
jay just smiled. jake have this pout on his lips. “i really want to co—” his words got interrupted when jay covered his mouth.
“shut up.”
heeseung covers your line of sight from them then flashes this soft smile. “let’s go?” he says and just like being hypnotized by his gaze, you nod your head.
heeseung ushered you to the library, asking what you’re going there for. once informed about the assignment, he said that he’s already finished with his so he’ll just help you.
you can’t help but to be at awe for this man. can he be more perfect? he’s good in everything.
he find you guys a vacant table and asked you to sit down. he said he will look for the book he used and you thanked him. it didn’t took long before you saw him walking back with a handful of books. strangely, he fits this image well.
you’re in complete trance when he walked closer then placed it on the table. he then started pointing the references he used and told you that you can gather information from those articles then summarize it to your own words.
that was plenty for you. considering it will save you time doing this assignment. with a small smile you thank him then proceed on focusing on the task. heeseung sat beside you and watch how your brows draws closer.
his grin grew wider and fingers starting playing through his lower lip. his stares never left you then it slowly trailed down from your brows to your nose and then lips. those damn lips...
he inhaled and licked his lip, cleared his throat in the most silent way.
now, he went here with you with the most genuine intention of helping you. but then his thoughts are starting to wonder into something... inappropriate.
you did said that you only disapprove of them being mean and aggressive, right? being horny is not mentioned. so you probably won’t mind if he fingers you knuckle deep right now.
god, just by thinking of it, heeseung’s already salivating.
besides, its not his fault that you look so innocent and very pretty looking all serious.
he rests his hand on your thigh that made you jolt in surprise. you blinked twice then turns your head at his direction. he’s giving you this lazy look while biting over his lips.
your chest hammered and stomach churns when he started caressing your thighs gently. making sure you can feel his rough palms rubbing against your exposed skin.
“h-heeseung...”
he raised an eyebrow, “yes, angel?” he asks innocently like as if he’s not doing trailing his hands upwards into your inner skirt.
“w-we’re in the library...” and you roam your eyes trying to check if there’s people near enough to get suspicious of what’s going on under the table.
“exactly. go study.” he says with a grin.
“w-what are you doing? they might see—”
“shh, don’t worry. just be a good girl and do your assignment, okay?” and he leans to drop a kiss on the side of your head, ushering you to continue doing your work.
after staring at him for a while and realizing he ain’t going to stop, you decided to just go with it. besides, you can’t hide the arousing feeling that slowly poisoning your whole system. your head starting to get fuzzy, core getting wet as he started to trace the line of your pussy.
you hummed, teeth sunk onto your lower lip in attempt to stop any moans that wants to come out. “ungh,”
he chuckles sexily, “try to be quiet. we’re at the library after-all.” he whispered.
he pulls his hand out then gave it a lick before dipping it back in. “open your legs for me, please.” he demanded in a very soft tone.
you’re already in deep thoughts, unable to even respond properly and just obliged his dirty desires. once he have a better access, heeseung pushes your underwear to touch you bare.
his fingers are hot and rough. feels so good. he started on your clit, rubbing it in a very delicious way.
“fuck, you’re so wet.” he curses, enjoying how your face contorts out of pleasure. pleasure that he’s currently giving you.
“h-hee..” you calls him.
he smirks, loving the way you’re so needy for his fingers.
“all right, i'm going in angel. focus on your assignment.” he stated like as if its even possible to do that. but you tried to pull yourself together. heaved a sigh then looked at the books in front of you. none of the words made sense, but that’s not important.
your mouth slightly gaps as he inserted one finger inside you. the stretch felt so good it makes you want to moan loudly.
“shh.” he reminded, chuckling.
he’s enjoying it. he’s loving it as much as you’re loving being finger fucked.
he didn’t stopped and put another finger. he let it rest inside, trying to take time feeling your tightness around his long fingers. he wants to imagine it to be his dick and he bet it will feel heaven. he shove that thought right away, he needs to focus on you.
“you’re so tight around me, angel.” he whispered huskily. “even after being fucked by all of us, you’re still so fucking tight.” he started talking in nasty way.
the way he say it in a calm tone just hits in a different way. you gulped and breath out, calming yourself.
“p-please.”
he smirks and gave you another kiss on the side of your head. he started moving his fingers that almost sent your soul out of your body. the way his fingers moved in and out in your tight hole just feels perfect.
he continues, slowly catching his pace that just added to your pleasure. one of your hand grips over his thighs, squishing it that he quickly find adorable.
“how i wish its my tongue inside that hole, angel.” he says that he truly means.
you whimpered lowly and tried to keep your eyes open. the words on the book starting to became blurry. it went on for a while until you feel a knot forming on your stomach. a sign that you’re already close.
“heeseung...” you calls out.
he chuckles then rutt his fingers even faster making you whimper softly. you glance at him and he already knew that you’re close. from the way your eyes are half-lidded and teeth digging unto your lips, you are definitely about to release.
he fucks deeper and just a few moments after you came to his fingers, head hanging low and grip over his thighs tightening. you shake lightly that made him chuckle, leaning his head closer to kiss you by the head.
“you did so well.” he complimented then kept on thrusting in and out in a slow pace, helping you ride your high.
once you calmed down, he pulls it out making you wine. he stares at you then shamelessly took his fingers over his lips to suck it. your eyes grew and cheeks blushed hardly.
“heeseung!”
he smirks, “i deserve a reward, don’t you think?” then he winks at you making you lose your mind. he’s going to be the death of you.
“bye baby.” jay smiles and kisses you gently before moving away to give way for sunghoon. he’s already holding his helmet by one of his hand.
“bye, pretty.” he says with a playful grin over you.
you smiled before pouting, “please drive safely.”
his eyes soften after what you said and leans in again for another kiss. “i will, i promise.”
you nodded and a sulking jake came into your view.
“bye sweets.” he says half-heartedly that made you chuckle then insisted for a kiss just to ease his bad mood.
sunghoon rolls his eyes then grabbed his sulking friend by his uniform and drag him out of there. jake complains and started to argue, but jay helped to drag him away.
heeseung sighs and snaked his arm over your waist, “let’s go?”
you glance at him then nod your head once before going to his car. he opened the door like always and guides your inside.
“where are we going?”
he glances, “i’m taking you to our small vacation house by the lake.” he smiles.
you smiled back, “hmm. okay.”
“i called your mom and told her i’ll get you home a little late.”
“you called her?” you’re surprised he even remembered telling it to her.
“yes. i don’t want her to be worried or get you in trouble.” he says while eyes fixed at the road.
you pout your lips and looked at more with so much adoration. that was so sweet of him. you can feel your heart races and butterflies going crazy inside your stomach.
heesueng notices your stares and chuckles, “why?”
you shake your head, “its just you’re so sweet. it makes my heart melt.”
his smile grew wider, totally proud that he made you feel more special.
“anything for you.”
he said it will took a bit time to get there so you guys went to drive thru so he can buy some food you can eat while on the way. while on the way, you naturally fall into conversations, giggling and teasing each other.
it feels so good. heeseung used to be very intimidating for you. his serious demeanor and the way he seems so calm about everything just makes you feel agitated around him. but eventually, he starts to feel warm. like someone you can entrust yourself fully. they all feel that way, honestly. but heeseung’s the most reliable one, you must admit.
when he noticed your eyelids looking heavier, he chuckles and told you that you can sleep for a while.
“but how about you?” feeling a little bad that you’ll leave him driving.
he smiles assuringly, “i’ll be fine, angel.”
and with that you slowly dozed off. he lets you sleep until you’re already pulling over the driveway of their small vacation house. its not particularly small. its actually above average, but maybe for people like him who probably have many vacation houses, this is small for him.
“careful.” he mumbled and quickly reaches for your hand when the rocky path greets you.
the house is very cozy and simple. the clear view of the lake can be seen from the big glass windows. it was beautiful.
“you can go roam around while i set our food inside the fridge.” heeseung says then kisses you at the head before heading to the kitchen.
your eyes wanders around with curiosity and admiration. everything looks expensive. your eyes darted at the table filled with picture frames. with full curiosity, your feet trudges closer.
“wow...” was the first word that came out from your mouth. you can see pictures of their family. his dad and mom. him and his older brother.
“cutie!” you exclaimed when you saw heeseung’s baby picture. he does resembles him that you can tell right away that it was him.
your smiling ear to ear then fished your phone to take a snap of that pic. after getting satisfied with your shots, you slowly head over the small balcony where you can see the lake.
“wow, its so refreshing.” you mumble under your breath then leaned over the railings, letting the wind blow onto you.
you jolted when a pair of arms wrapped over your waist. “enjoying the view?”
“y-yes.”
heeseung kisses your cheeks then place his chin on your shoulder. the two of you admired the view while holding that position. the breeze is kind of cold, but heeseung’s hug kept you warm.
“do you want to walk around for a bit before we start dinner?” he asks then finally pulls away.
your eyes sparkles, “yes!”
he chuckles, finding you adorable then leans down. “give me a kiss first.”
your cheeks blushed then blinked twice. the two of your stares at each other for a while until you decided to give in to his request. a big satisfied smile spread across his handsome face then stand back up.
“let’s go.” and he intertwined your fingers.
looking at the lake in a much nearer distance gave you comfort and peace. you never thought watching the soft currence while holding heeseung’s warm hands can make your heart race.
“do you know when i started liking you?” heeseung breaks the silence.
you craned your neck to glance at him, eyes flashing curiosity. “when?”
he stares at your for a while before chuckling lightly then pinching your cheeks.
“you look adorable, but i have to resist. come on, try to guess.”
his compliment and how he said that using his softest tone soothes something in your heart. it made you blush instantly. despite all of it, you tried to guess like how he requested.
“when you started this thing with me?” that was the first one that came in your mind.
you barely remember any interaction with lee heeseung before all of this.
his brows narrowed, “this thing?” he sighs. “relationship, angel. that’s how you call it properly.” he says using a salty tone.
you chuckled and just nods as acknowledgement. he kept his stares, his eyes returning to being gentle and full of affection. a small genuine smile then appears over his lips.
heeseung’s out of words to describe how precious you are for him. he’s usually good on saying the things he wanted to say, but with you his thoughts are starting to be messed up. there’s just so much he wanted to say yet he don’t know where to start.
“it was on seventh grade.” he stated that made your lips gap.
7th grade? but you’re already on eleventh grade. still surprised, you cannot say anything.
“during that time i experienced my first loss. it may be nothing for a normal high-school kid, but for someone who comes from a perfectionist family who doesn’t accept defeat, it is a pretty big deal.”
instantly, you feel slightly bad. of course, you’ve heard about his family. they are pretty strict when it comes to him. maybe that’s why he’s very reserved because he has no time for failure. they’ve put too much pressure on him.
your free hand extends and travels from his arm towards his neck, up to his face. slowly, he relaxes to your touch.
“i remember feeling so worthless while staring blankly at my silver medal.” he resumes telling you the story.
“while i stare with despair at it, already imagining the disappointed look from my father, someone approaches me.” he stops.
“guess who?” he smirks. “i'll give you a clue.” then smirk grew wider.
“she’s very pretty and currently holding me softly right now.”
“me?” you wonder.
he nods. “you were pretty amazed at my silver medal.” he states, a big smile on his face now.
just the emotion he was showing was enough to tell how delighted he is by reminiscing that moment.
“i was actually annoyed at first because i thought you were mocking me.” he chuckled and you pout jokingly.
“hey, you’re so judgemental.”
he shrugs his shoulders. “can’t blame me, angel. i was still very introverted that time.”
“you’re still a little introvert now.”
he cocked his eyebrow and you did the same thing, staring back. that made him chuckle.
“okay, maybe you’re right.” he surrenders then drop a kiss on your forehead.
“and then what happened?” you curiously asked.
he smiled. “then i told you harshly that what’s so great for second place?” he continued.
you grow silent then tries hard to recall the memory.
“and then you said,” you glanced at him, eyes starting to water a bit.
“that there’s nothing wrong with being second place. that it doesn’t mean that you failed or you didn’t won. that instead of being sad, you should take it as a chance to become better. that it only means you still have a room to grow.” you finished it that made him smile.
“right...”
“hee...” eyes brimming with tears already. “that was years ago.” you stated, couldn’t believe that he started to get interested that time.
his eyes dropped at your intertwined hand and he raised it to gently place a kiss on top of it.
“hee...” you mumbled again, this time voice cracking a little.
he smiles, “sorry if we approached you the wrong way. we just really don’t know what to do.” his eyes sparkles, getting a bit teary as well.
“i-it’s okay... i didn’t know.”
he chuckles, “obviously. you’re too dense to notice.”
“hey!” you playfully shoot him glares that he just laughed at before leaning in to give you a kiss.
the two of you stared at each other affectionately, enough to communicate what your hearts wants to tell one another.
“i know that with all the responsibilities and the expectation from your parents, it felt heavy. like you feel that you can’t be flawed.” you started.
“but for me you’re just perfect the way you are. with your achievements and failures.” those words tugs his heartstrings, a tear escaping his eye.
the moment you two steps inside the vacation house, heeseung’s lips are attached to you. his kisses are gentle yet passionate. his hands holds you closely to his hot body.
his kisses moves from your lips, down to your chin then neck making sure to suck on your skin making you moan, fingers tangled on his hair.
he slid his arm over your legs then carries you towards the bedroom. he went back to your lips and kisses you once again.
he gently placed you on the bed hovering above you, his hand starting to remove your clothes. and you let him.
when he pulls away, you try to even chase him that made him chuckle.
“wait, angel. i’ll just remove my clothes.”
your eyes trailed down his now erect member.
“d-do you want me to...?”
he smiles then shakes his head, “no. today, its just about you.”
then he kisses you again, resuming on discarding every clothing that you still have on you. once fully unclothed, he positions himself in front of you. he started rubbing his head on your now wet core.
your brows narrowed and whimpers sexily.
“i’ll go in now, okay?” he glanced at you and a nod is all you gave him.
and while your eyes staring back at each other, heeseung pushes his dick inside. the stretch feels so good, his thick cock making you moan his name. it made him satisfied, hearing you getting comfortable on letting out your moans.
“that’s right, let me hear you.” he whispered then pinned your hand on the sides, intertwining his fingers to yours.
he lets you get more comfortable with having him inside and connects his lips on yours again, couldn’t get enough of your lips. his tongue pushes in, wanting to taste every insides of your mouth.
when he started to move, your head starts to get blank. nothing inside but the man above you and making you feel this good.
he slides in and out. starting with a slow pace then going faster. he thrusts deep and fast sending so much pleasure.
“heeseung...” you moaned after his lips moves away.
“i love you, angel.” he suddenly said that made your heart jumped. you didn’t have the chance to say anything as he leans in for a peck.
“i love you so damn much.” and then start thrusting even faster.
“i...” you pursed your lips, eyes shuts as the pleasure from his dick takes away your ability to think and speak properly.
“i..” you attempted again, opening your eyes so you can look at his pretty face.
“love you too...” you finally finished it.
heeseung’s heart thumped faster and he fucked you even harder. he smiles and leans in for another heated kiss. he loves and adore you.
he continues drilling his cock inside until he felt you tightening around him, indicating the approaching release. he kisses your chin.
“cumming for me, angel?”
you open your mouth, “yes. feel so good.”
he smirks, “i know. pussy so good for me.” and then he rut his cock deeper.
“i’m cumming too..” he announces, feeling the knot on his stomach.
“cum with me.” he orders then attach his lips before going rapidly.
not long after you came around heeseung then he filled you with his hot cum. he pulls away to look at your fucked out face, brushing off some hair. he smiles.
“i love you.” he whispers, still going in and out but in a slower pace. riding both your highs.
you opened your eyes and reaches for his face. this time, you lift your head to give him a sweet kiss with a smile on your face. then you laid back down, staring lovingly at him.
his thrust starts to go faster again and a playful smirk spreads across his handsome face, some of his hairs sticks on his forehead due to sweat.
“round two, angel.” and then you let out a whimper from both pleasure and overstimulation.
the two of you spent the rest of the time just going for each other. heeseung making sure you felt how special you are for him.
lee heeseung is scared of failing. always aiming to be the best and to be perfect. he’s too obsessed on pleasing his parents to the point that he almost lose himself. but with you, he felt at ease. he felt safe and confident knowing that despite all his flaws and just being his true self, he’s still admirable.
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#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen heeseung#enhypen heeseung imagines#enhypen heeseung dark hours#enhypen heeseung x reader#enhypen park jongseong#enhypen jake sim#enhypen park sunghoon
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Summary: You run into your snobby ex boyfriend after a drunken party. Things go south from there. tw: female reader, hinted murder, possessive behavior, condescension, financial(?) abuse, classism
You know this is a stupid, stupid idea. Going home at God knows what time in the pitch black is never a good idea, you think drowsily, head still spinning from the last beer, but even more so when you're tired, pissed off and tipsy. You're freezing, naked shoulders wet from the chilly midnight rain - but instead of soft damp linden, you smell molden concrete and metal. You fucking hate this city. You hate the stupid, flashy, obnoxious parties for rich people, and this shitty university in the middle of nowhere, and even the scholarship that forced you into close proximity with the freakish upper class of east New Hemptison.
"Baby!" A familiar voice sinks into the muddy darkness and you have to physically restrain yourself from emptying your stomach right there on the street - and knowing your neighbours, you'd have to clean it after too. His steps fasten and soon you feel his hand gripping your shoulder to turn you around. Standing before you, glistening just like some prince from a fairy tale, is everything you despise about this town. The fact that he's perfectly prim and proper despite the pounding rain, that his teeth seem almost pearly white in the dark, that his hair is crisp and slicked away tastefully, that even now he's wearing a fucking Armani shirt with the cheesiest pair of jeans (ones you could never afford) - it makes you want to crawl back to the cave you came from, two continents away, and never look back.
"Baby, where have you been?" He sounds terribly concerned as he pulls your shivering body in for a tight bear hug, running his hands through your absolutely soaked hair - murmuring something incomprehensible to your drunken mind. "I was worried sick, missy." His voice drops slightly, but it's all for show. He's playing the part of the good boyfriend, like always - and you fell for it once, you did, but you know better now. "I called you, like, sixty eight times. And nothing." He swallows, big hands trembling around you. "Just radio silence. I thought something bad happened to y-"
"Oh, f-uucking beat it." Your patience finally snaps and you push him off swiftly, barely contained anger starting to resurface again. Today was supposed to be about you, about healing, about feeling better, but just your luck - the very problem had found you, just like always. No matter where you go, your troubles follow. "You know what you did, asshole. Don't you d-aare play innocent with m-me." You hiss drunkenly, stumbling all over your words before hitting the wall all on your own. Mathew, of course, doesn't waste the oppurtunity to get closer to you - just so he can help you regain your balance, of course. The golden boy of Saint Hemptison would never take advantage of an intoxicated girl - much less his ex girlfriend who he's still hopelessly in love with, supposedly. Right.
"Baby, please, you're drunk - you're not making any sense." The man whispers softly, placing his hand at your hip. "Let's go to the penthouse. We can talk about this in the morning when you are more aware of your thoughts."
When you're more aware of your thoughts? You almost laugh. It's quite bittersweet when it hits you that he doesn't respect you even now - maybe he never has in the duration of your miserable relationshop, that in his eyes you'll always be the poor girl in need of a white knight. Just a little trophy to show off, if a bit broken in certain spots.
"I am not going anywhere with you." You mumble, trying to calm down - to appear cold and collected, the complete opposite of what he wants you to be. "Look, I know that you're mad at me, babygirl, but I'm sure your little temper tantrum can wait until tomorrow. You know I don't like this neighbourhood. Let me take you to a safe place for the night, okay?" He reaches for your hand again, but this time you swat it away in fury.
"Who are you to act so worried about me, huh?" You can hear your voice breaking as the tears prick at your eyes - hot and shameful. Crying in front of him is the last thing you want to do, but god, it's so hard not to when this whole night has been a disaster after a disaster. You're truly at your wits' end. "After what you did? You are truly shameless." You squeal, and admittedly, it feels fucking great to finally say it.
Your former lover's face twists into an unrecognizable grimace as he watches you tear into his heart with ease - and as you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist painfully. This time something is different about his eyes - they're not longer smiling. Now they're two bottomless gray pits devoid of kindness, the same eyes you saw the night of the accident as he caressed your cold cheek with bloody knuckles.
"And what did I do, love? Hm?" He tilts your chin up by squeezing your throat, forcing you to meet his eerie gaze. Suddenly all your tipsy bravado evaporates into thin air. "Please, refresh my memory. I really can't recall the events of the past two weeks - since you've been avoiding me and all..." His fingers dig into your skin and you wince just like a kicked puppy - but he doesn't bulge an inch. Suddenly everything comes flooding back - the touches you convinced yourself were sensual, not possesive, the glances you once thought of as romantic, the constant interrogations, the strange emails, the cryptic calls, the dead roses at your door. "I couldn't sleep - or eat for that matter. I am half a man without you. I lose myself completely."
It all makes sense now. You feel like crying, because it's so crystal clear... and you've been a willing fool. You had closed your eyes, because it was easier to lie than to accept the truth bubbling just under his surface - under the dimples and the smiles, and the hundred jewelry boxes still lying unopened under your bed.
"You - you killed him! You monster!" You gasp, unable to stop your lips from uttering the lethal. You thrash around to no avail, you're stuck. "How could you? Jack was your friend!" You hide your face in the crook of his neck to stop the sobs, too scared to look at the crazed man holding you. He simply rolls his eyes, letting you soak his shirt with your pretty tears. "Don't be so dramatic - it's just some broken bones. He'll be fine... as long as he stays away from my things."
You raise your head shakily - you're drowning between hatred, fear and misery. The adrenaline is making you even more disoriented than the liquor percentage in your bloodstream.
"I am not a fucking thing for you to-" You hiccup, growing woozy as you hit weakly against his chest. The corners of his lips curl up slightly as he chuckles at the pitiful display. "For you to just own!" You keep going, cheeks purple from pent up fury - there's something tearing at your insides like you want to scream, you need it to come out, but you find yourself unable to push it off your flesh like it's been ingrained with glue and a shovel.
"You're wrong, baby. I do own you." Mathew says with the sweetest, softest voice you've heard in your life, sugary and bitter like poisonous honey. "Let's say you want to break up-"
"We already broke u-"
His eyes pierce you mid-sentence. You quickly close your mouth.
"Let's say," He repeats through gritted teeth, holding you so tightly you might just merge into one being. "That you want to break up with me." He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. "Hypothetically. Then what? You have no place to live. I know you're staying at that shithole of a hotel down the street right now - it's filthier than a brothel, no?"
You want to say something - to argue, to scream. To tell him that he's being a rich, condescending asshole again, that you like the hotel - despite the mold and the cockroaches and the way there never seems to be hot water. Despite having to lock your door four times so you don't get assaulted in your sleep.
You say nothing.
"You don't have to confirm it. My agent tracked you down a week ago. Whatever - you'll run out of money in, approximately, 9 days." He smirks maliciously, with unhidden spite - just like a little devil. "Then what? You don't even have an address. And you know the city hall will take their sweet fucking time to help you register - if they don't make you pay a fine first." He strokes your chin cruelly. "We both know just how much they care about clueless little foreigners with less than a penny to their name." He whispers, twisting the dagger in. "Hell, they may even cut your scholarship. And. then. what." Your ex pronounces each word slowly - making sure you can understand it, feel it - fear it.
You imagine your family back at home. You can hear their voices over the phone, your mom smiling as you tell her about your day, your father asking you what you plan to do after college - whether you will still remember them, whether you'd take care of them once they have nothing left, since you took everything with you. The money, the hopes, the happiness...
"F-fuck you..." You whimper faintly, falling against him. You feel defeated, and the sharp words are all you have left. "Why are you doing this to me?" You mumble to yourself, suddenly feeling drained to the very bone. The man begins stroking your hair as he rocks you gently to the side. "Because I love you." He slowly kisses down your neck. "Because I'm the only one in this city who gives a fuck about you, and-" You can feel his smile against your burning cheek. "Because you're mine."
#yandere#yancore#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere oneshot#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader
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