#two fucked up people meeting in their fucked up lives and realizing they don’t want their fucked up lives

[cindylcuwho]

“ sweetheart ★ ”

— ꒰ 💌 ꒱ drug dealer! matt x baker! reader

— ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ after a deal almost went sideways, matt decides to pay a quick visit to his sweet girl.

— ꒰ 🐁 ꒱ fluff ! making out.. tbh nothing really lol (but the ending😦). 1726 words.

— ꒰ ☁️ ꒱ erm i think this is my most boring fic ever 😜

what was only supposed to be a fast and easy twenty minute meetup turned into an hour long negotiation. matt had his jacket-covered back against a wall, hunched over as he coughed out strings of spit.

one of the guys he was supposed to meet was on the floor, a broken nose the was leaking deep red blood. his bottom lip quivered, closing against the upper one once the blood tried to make its way in his mouth.

matt watched intensely, eyes flickering up every now and then to make sure the other few men that let the sudden fight didn’t try anything. they held smirks on their faces, arms crossed as they stood tall.

“are you done?” the one on the far left rhetorically asked. matt glanced back to the guy on the floor before nodding, standing as straight as he could with his sore ribs.

his face crumpled into a snarl, “what the fuck was that?” he questioned, referring to what just happened. “we just wanted to test you.” one of them answered. “test me?” matt scoffed, “i could’ve killed him.”

“we know, but you didn’t.” the middle one shrugged, “you don’t live up to the family name, matthew.” before matt could respond, he continued, “we heard you were fearsome, someone that makes people shudder in fear at the mention.. and here you are letting a man that dared to take you on live.”

“thought he was one of your men, didn’t want to start anything neither of us could finish.” matt defended. “or.. you’ve gone soft.” the one on the right smiled, “word on the street is you’re wrapped around a girls finger, that true?”

matt immediately shook his head, holding a disgusted look, “i don’t know where you got that from but it’s a fuckin’ lie.”

“unless its straight from me dont believe shit.” the three guys gave matt a pointed look, but decided to not push it. “leave the package where you are and leave.” they commanded.

matt held out his hand for his payment before. the middle man rolled his eyes, stepping forward to place a wad of hundreds in his hand. he looked at the papers, doing quick mental math before leaning down and sliding the small box of goods to where he was standing.

“oh, and matt.. if we find out you lied, there will be a target on your lover.” one of them threatened, shooing him off as even more men walked in the room to pick up the bruised body that was still on the floor.

matt sucked in a breath, turning away and walking out the door. he contemplated in the car, he was well aware of how dangerous the life style he was living was, simply showing you were interested in him would have your life at risk and he just couldn’t do that to anybody.

but there was just something about you. he couldn’t stay away no matter how much he knows he should. you originally met when he had to hide from somebody and random the first building he saw; a small pink bakery building that he didn’t realize was in the process of cleaning for closing.

matt has never been told off in his life, but that night you scolded him for twenty minutes on how rude it was. the next morning he came by to buy a donut that seemed awfully delicious, and offered to take you to dinner as an apology.. who were you two refuse free food?

now what seemed like every night matt would swing by around the same time, almost every time half helping clean up and and half munching on the desserts that weren’t bought.

not breaking routine, even after the prominent threat, instead of making a left to drive to his well sized mansion, he made a right and quickly the familiar building was in his vision.

matt parked his car down the street, choosing to walk the rest of the way incase anybody was tracking the vehicle. he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bakerys window, licking over the cut on his lip before treading inside and being hit with the overbearing smell of dough.

you were in the back, humming along to the taylor swift song playing as you washed the dirty pans, putting them on their respective drying wrack.

he watched from the doorframe, taking in the sight of how simple and innocent you looked. he would hate to be the one to ruin that part of you, you didn’t even know what his job was- but he wasn’t gonna let you know from the hands of higher class men he had to deal with.

matt walked forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply to take in your scent.

“hi.” he sighed. you smiled, wiping your hand on your apron before bringing it up to toy with the front of his hair. “hey, you okay?” you whispered to him, as if it’d disturb anyone.

he began peppering kisses along your shoulder before bringing his mouth up to your cheek, “just had a long fuckin’ day, missed you too.” he mumbled against your skin.

you nodded, turning to face him. your smile turned into a frown, your thumb lightly tugging at the ripped skin his lips were, “what happened?” you met his gaze, waiting for answers.

matt pulled your hand away, holding it with both of his, “clumsy and fell on the way here, nothing to worry about.” he reassured.

you kept the eye contact with him. matt wasn’t a bad liar, but he made it obvious with how he tensed and untensed. you nodded again, sucking your teeth, “i should have a bandaid around here somewhere.” your hands dug in the pockets of your apron before pulling out a hello kitty designed bandaid.

matt internally cringed at the design. “uh, i don’t think that’s necessary-“ “shut up?” you cut him off, “you’re the one that got hurt, not me, you have no say.”

he rolled his eyes, grabbing your hips to sit you on the kitchens counter. you giggled at him, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

matt winced, making you instantly unwrapping them, “whats wrong?” he shook his head, trying to keep a calm expression. your fingers gripped the end of his shirt, slowly dragging it up and revealing the overly reddened skin that was turning purple by the second.

you looked back up at him, suspicion even higher. “i fell, ‘member?” you scoffed, “i’ve fallen a million times i never once got bruised like that.”

he rolled his eyes again, “are you gonna put the stupid bandaid on or what?” you lightly smacked his shoulder, “don’t call hello kitty stupid, you’re stupid.”

matt just laughed, pouring out his bottom lip for the bandaid. his fingers traced small shapes on your hips as you unwrapped it, occasionally giving small squeezes.

“pretty stylish, no?” he joked, turning his head to the side, giving you the full view of the silly bandaid. you smiled, “of course it is, its mine.” you wrapped your hands around his neck, pecking his lips.

matt held your head in place, keeping you there as he continued the kiss. you tugged at the ends of his hair, “the bandaids gonna come off if you don’t stop.” you warned, matt shrugged, leaning in for another kiss.

his tongue pushed against your bottom lip, having you open your mouth wider so he could stick his tongue inside. your tongues met, fighting and tangling against each other as matts over took yours, deepening the kiss even further.

his hands trailed all around your body, wanting to touch every part he psychically could. you moaned softly into the kiss as his hands squeezed under your thighs, grabbing and squeezing your ass.

matt couldn’t pull away. you tasted like chocolate cookies, which wouldn’t be incorrect considering you were snacking on them whilst cleaning. he tasted like root beer and a cigarette you know he smoked before arriving, but it didn’t matter, wasn’t strong enough to make you pull away in disgust.

once you both finally pulled away, it was only to take a quick breathing break. your foreheads rested against each others, small smiles on both of your faces.

“you drive me insane, you know?” he laughed, but his eyes seemed to be full of pure love, “just such a sweetheart.” he whispered, moving the bottom of his head, pecking your lips.

you nodded with a huge smile. your thumb pressed the bandaid back on his lips, but it was barely sticking. you groaned, “see, i knew this would happen! that was my last one too!”

“i’ll buy you s’more then.“ he pecked your lips once more. “you better.. but i guess take it off for now, its weird with it on.” he complied, ripping it off before leaning over to put it in the trash.

matts ring-cladded hands clasped against your thighs, “cmon sweetheart, we gotta finish cleaning.” he unnecessary helped you down from the counter. “can you hurry and sweep out there?” before matt could whine about anything, “i may have left a slice of cake on the holder for you. gotta go clean be for you can eat it, though.”

he nodded, shrugging his jacket off before walking to the front and grabbing the broom. matt hurriedly swept across the floor, there wasn’t much crumbs or trash on the floor so it was easier than ever.

a noise from outside pulled matts attention. his eyebrows furrowed, stepping closer to the front door with the expectation of seeing just a random critter, but the street was empty.

a moment passed and matt leaned from the door. his eyes stayed trained on the outside before being able to make out a figure.

the figure slowly began creeping closer. once the streetlight hit them, matt could see who, or what it was. they were in all black, the ski masks logo they were wearing being the only thing with color.

his heart quickened. matt knew what logo it was. he looked back at the empty doorway leading to the kitchen before back to the person.

matt chewed his cheek, making the quick decision to go outside, hand already grasping the weapon in his pocket.

masterlist , taglist , TTPD masterlist .

— ꒰ 🖇️ ꒱ @freshloveee , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @55sturn , @lanas-doll , @chrissv4mp , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @imwetforyourmom .

[icterid-rubus]

😕

[badolmen]

It’s not ‘I can fix them’ or ‘they can fix me’ but a secret third thing (we can domesticate each other)

[criminalamnesia]

ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!

I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.

this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)

[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]

part one here, part two here, ending 1 here

your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.

you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.

you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.

you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.

fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.

you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.

you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.

you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.

“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.

“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.

“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”

he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.

but your guard is up. you don’t know him.

“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.

“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.

“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.

but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.

it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.

but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.

“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.

“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.

his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.

“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.

that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.

you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.

“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.

as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.

“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”

he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”

you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.

you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.

next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.

you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.

but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.

he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.

“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.

“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.

“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.

“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.

“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”

“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“nah, I don’t think so.”

your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.

“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.

“friend emergency.”

he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”

he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”

“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.

“guilty.”

you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.

‘friend okay?’ he types.

‘all good.’ you respond.

he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.

‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’

you smile as you read the message.

‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.

a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.

he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.

you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.

but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.

“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”

your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.

simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.

your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.

you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.

it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.

the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.

when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.

you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.

the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.

the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.

you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.

a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.

you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.

he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.

“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.

when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.

you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.

the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.

the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.

he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.

“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.

“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”

your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”

he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.

“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”

you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”

you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.

“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”

“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.

“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”

you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.

that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.

the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.

and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.

a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.

someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.

he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.

instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.

——————————————————————

author’s note:

ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.

how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?

I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.

anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

[starkwlkr]

So I was thinking about a cute Mathéo fic where, like, yk the one gif where Charles is winking? He winks at Charles like that because charles has just winked at him, and he wanted to do it back, I just live that gif so much, it's so adorable

mini me | charles leclerc

an: i am just posting requests

let’s pretend vegas was not a fucking LATE night race 😍

Mathéo had seen his papa wink many times, or at least tried to because Charles sometimes ended up closing both of his eyes. He winked at his maman, on the podium, to his uncle Max. He remembers Charles winking while he was on the podium in Vegas. The little boy waved at his papa then saw the ‘famous Charles Leclerc wink’.

“He saw us! Papa saw us!” Mathéo excitedly told his maman.

“He did! Look, he’s waving!” Y/n pointed at her husband.

“That’s my papa!” Ruby yelled.

After the ceremony, Y/n took both of her kids to the Ferrari hospitality where she agreed to meet with Charles. Seated at an outside table, Ruby waved to everyone that passed by saying ‘my papa got a shiny trophy!’ while Mathéo stayed in his seat giving his own attempt at a wink. Like his father, he closed both eyes. Then groaned when he didn’t get it right.

“What’s wrong, my beautiful boy?” Y/n put her phone down on the table. She noticed the upset look on her boys face.

“I can’t do the thing papa does with his eyes. He does it better than me.” Mathéo sighed.

“It’s called winking. It’s a little hard for some people, but that’s why we practice.” Y/n explained.

“Yeah, Théo, you practice.” Ruby sassily repeated.

“Maman, do you know how to wink?” The little boy asked. Then you nodded and successfully winked at him. “I don’t know how.”

“It takes time, baby. I didn’t know how either, but then i learned. Come on, you can do it.” Y/n encouraged.

So Mathéo tried again and again and again. It took time, but when Charles reunited with his family, the first thing his son did was wink at him which made Charles laugh.

“Look at you! Just like papa!” Charles chuckled.

“I know how to wink now! Maman told me to practice and I did and I can do it like you! See?” He winked again, only this time he closed both of his eyes, but the little boy didn’t realize.

“My mini me.” Charles gave the boy a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh dear god, please don’t let my little boy be a driver too. I get paranoid enough with two Leclercs behind the wheel.”

[itsbeeble]

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you. 

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel. 

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin. 

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff. 

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.” 

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?” 

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand. 

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?” 

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.” 

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?” 

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.” 

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier. 

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room. 

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers. 

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you? 

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl? 

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back. 

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—” 

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain. 

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff. 

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.” 

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it. 

“And then…?” He teases. 

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles. 

“Just someone I know.” 

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl. 

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks. 

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal. 

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you. 

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him. 

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather. 

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze. 

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff. 

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers. 

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.” 

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first. 

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment. 

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile. 

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?” 

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?” 

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches. 

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable. 

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.” 

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue. 

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle. 

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him. 

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place. 

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket. 

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made. 

The bed.

The one bed in the room. 

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?” 

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?” 

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?” 

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you. 

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.” 

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?” 

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?” 

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart. 

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over. 

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out. 

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him. 

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat. 

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart. 

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you. 

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay? 

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.” 

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand. 

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand. 

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.” 

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs. 

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side. 

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him. 

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!” 

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan. 

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—” 

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest. 

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him. 

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance. 

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine. 

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did. 

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly. 

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you. 

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.” 

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together. 

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it. 

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that. 

“Oops…” 

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.” 

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon. 

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks. 

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him. 

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—” 

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then. 

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out. 

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door. 

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon. 

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?” 

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.” 

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.” 

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” 

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?” 

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you. 

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?” 

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides. 

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.” 

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours. 

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your. 

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin. 

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. 

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away. 

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response. 

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!” 

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.” 

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him. 

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?” 

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that. 

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot. 

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again. 

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own? 

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.” 

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you. 

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand. 

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you. 

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth. 

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.” 

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction. 

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy. 

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body. 

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him. 

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. 

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?” 

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms. 

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips. 

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists. 

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest. 

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully. 

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[calicoheartz]

“Baby I” - Paige Bueckers♡

summary : jealous Paige Bueckers x reader !

wc ; 897

synopsis : inspired by the song “baby i” by Ariana Grande :) Paige’s jealousy often gets in the way of your relationship, so what happens when you interact with a particularly attractive stranger?

warning : angst , suggestive content , jealousy / possessiveness

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : look at me having a posting streak !! decided to try something new today, so I hope yall enjoy ◡̈

You and Paige had been dating for not too long, but your relationship had certainly developed into one where strong feelings and emotions played a huge factor in your everyday lives.

It was no secret to you that Paige was jealous, envious even; it caused you a fair share of problems throughout your relationship. Whether it was through jealous ridden comments, or snarky remarks, it was slowly starting to take a toll on you.

You and Paige were invited to go bar hopping with the team, as a celebration of the victorious win for Uconn. The free spirited and ambient environment encouraged you to let loose, encouraging you to not only grab a drink from the bar, but to strike up a couple of conversations with individuals around you.

It’s not that Paige didn’t want you to talk to other people, it’s just that when it comes to you; she’s very, how do I word this.. Overbearing? Whether it was constantly having her hands glued to your waist, peppering your face with kisses, or shooting bitter looks and whoever even dares to be just a little too friendly.

On this particular night, a very attractive character to say the least, approached you; beginning to start a simple conversation. Asking things like your name, complimenting your outfit, and overall trying to learn more about you

From across the room, you can see the blonde staring intensely at you, giving you a disapproving look; signaling you to end the conversation. You furrowed your brows and gave her a confused look back, not understanding how the conversation was moving south in any way.

You quickly turned back around, further continuing your conversation with the stranger, when all of a sudden you feel a harsh tug on your wrist. “It was nice meeting you, but we have to go.” And just like that, there you were, being dragged out of the bar by your girlfriend. Who seemed incredibly pissed.

The drive back home was unbearable, no words were exchanged between you two. The blonde never acknowledging you on your journey back home, knuckles white due to her intense grip on the steering wheel. You couldn’t tell if she was upset, disappointed, horny, or a mix of all 3.

As soon as you reached your apartment, your nerves were eating you alive. You had no idea what was waiting for you once you reached your apartment door.

You quickly hurried inside, and situated yourself on your shared couch. Waiting for her to say something. You felt your heart pounding, unable to even form coherent words. When you realized the endless silence, you simply muttered out a “I’m..sorry?.” Paige rolled her eyes at you, scoffing in the process. “YOU’RE sorry? They were practically throwing themselves at you and all you did was stand there and let them.” You were shocked, you knew Paige could take things the wrong way, but you never imagined her of all people would think you would be the type to do that.

“Paige…” you started. “You know I love you more than anything, but you know words can’t even touch what’s in my heart,” you continued. Your eyes now spilling out tears you tried your hardest to keep in.

“Then why don’t you ever tell me?”... “I feel like I’m constantly competing with others for your attention” This statement startled you, as you knew Paige was well aware of your difficulty to express yourself, let alone reassure others. Fuck. Oh how badly you wished the floor underneath you would simply collapse, giving you any sort of escape from the high tensioned conversation.

You felt as if you were to speak, your throat would simply close up. You managed to croak out.. “It’s just when I try to explain it, I be sounding insane. Sometimes it feels like the words don’t ever come out right.” She looks at you, her gaze softening a bit; as a reaction to your sudden vulnerability.

“It’s just I don’t know…the words just never come out right when it comes to you. You make me get all tongue tied and twisted, and I literally cannot explain what I’m feeling.” “Baby-” “No.” - you cut her off. Quickly feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you. “Yes, I should’ve been more clear and work on my communication, but you need to realize that not everyone is trying to sabotage our relationship. It’s exhausting. I can’t keep isolating myself due to your jealous fits of rage.”

Paige looks at you, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill out if she even mumbles out a word. She muttered a quiet “im sorry…”, her voice cracking at the last word, her eyes glued to the floor as she anticipated your response.

As if she were a magnet, you run towards her and wrap your arms around her tall frame, gently rubbing circles into your back as sobs slowly escape her lips. This entire thing had been a complete misunderstanding, and her jealousy blinded her judgment. Through her weeps you were able to make out “i love you. All i was trying to say is that youre my everything and-”

She wasnt even able to finish her sentence as she felt your warm lips on hers, entangling her in a deep and loving kiss. “If that doesnt show you that i love you, i dont know what will”

not sure how to feel about this tbh, originally i was gonna give this a sad ending but since the song is a love song, it didn’t feel fitting. Lmk ur thoughts !! Thanks for reading ◡̈

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

"If you're going to insist on making dinner for the both of us I might as well pay for the groceries." Simon was standing next to your door waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had asked him this morning what he wanted for dinner as you were going to the store after work and could get anything he wanted.

"Me making dinner for you is supposed to be a thank you for helping me Simon. I love that you're joining me, but I'm not going to let you pay."

"We'll see."

You finally walk out of your bedroom towards Simon, "Your job on this trip is going to be pushing the cart and looking pretty. I'm going to be grabbing everything and paying." Giving Simon a playful glare as the two of you makes your way out the door.

Pretty?

Do you really think he looks pretty? 

-

Simon hated grocery shopping; he has always felt that it was a waste of time, far too many people walking around, and the lights in here were almost blinding. He’s not happy to be here, but he also wasn’t going to let you continue to let you do all this work and not help in some way. 

At the very least shopping with you did make the experience more enjoyable. All he had to do was follow you. Letting you take control of where they went and did was strangely freeing from his usual day to day. Plus getting to just watch and listen to you ramble about your day was not something he was going to give up now that he’s here. 

"You know you still haven't told me what you wanted. I've been making my favorites every time you come over; it's your turn now to decide the menu." 

"I've been living off military mess hall food for most of my life. Anything you make is going to be a favorite of mine, love."

"How about you tell me at least one thing you want?" 

"Anything I want?"

"Anything!" 

You. 

That is the answer Simon wants to say, but he knows he can't, "I like shepherd’s pie.” 

“Shepherd’s pie it is!” You say, giving him a wide grin. 

The rest of the shopping is mostly uneventful. It isn't until the two of you were at the end of your grocery list did you seem to realize something was missing. 

“Oh, meet me at the front! I forgot to add apples to the list; I’ll go grab it real quick.” 

Before Simon could even disagree and say he’d just go with you; your figure was already speeding away from him. Slowly he made his way to the front of the store out of the way of others to wait. It wasn’t until eight minutes later when he saw no sign of you that he started to worry. 

It took all but a moment to find you, and he was not pleased with what he saw when he did. A man was standing far too close to you. The uncomfortable look on your face only served in sealing the man’s fate. 

Neither of you seemed to notice as he walked closer, but he was able to finally hear your conversation now. 

“-on, just one date. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 

"My boyfriend is waiting for me; you need to leave me alone." You try to step around him, but the man is quick to side step in front of you and makes a move to grab you. Simon would happily beat the man into the ground, but he doesn’t want to frighten you. So he does the next best thing which is to rail the man with the cart. 

With a loud grunt the man falls onto the ground holding his side in pain. 

“She said to leave her alone. So why don’t you crawl away now like the worm you are.” Simon snarls down at him. Moving the cart and himself to stand between you and the man. 

"What the fuck man!" 

"I'll give you five seconds to get out of here." Simon wasn't about to have a pointless back and forth with this guy. The only thing he cared about right now was getting him away from you.

He stands slowly and glares in your direction before practically running away from Simon and you.

As soon as his figure disappears from sight Simon turns to you and gently grips your shoulder; tucking you into his side as he guides you back to the front of the store.

"Thank you for doing that; you didn't have to but I really appreciate it." 

"It's no problem," Simon continued his hold on your shoulder; not wanting to yet let go of you, "If anyone messes with you send them my way. I'll deal with them." 

You give him a smile in return. "That was honestly really funny by the way; hitting him with the cart." 

"I would have ran him over with it, but I didn’t want you having to find a new grocery store because I got the two of us banned." 

You laugh at his words and it makes his chest feel tight. He almost wants to record it just so that he could take it with him anywhere he goes. 

"C'mon, let's get out of here before they change their minds then!" 

Simon had of course won in the end when it came to who was going to be paying. He knew he would, but you still put in a good fight to beat him to it. He’d let you win in a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. 

-

It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting in your flat after eating did you seem to notice that he had been acting more reserved than he normally would be. Of course you weren’t about to just let him stew in thoughts for long once you caught on to it. 

“What’s wrong Simon? You’re acting a lot broodier tonight.” 

“I’m leaving soon; next week.” There was no point in lying to you; Simon had gotten the call from Price just a couple of days ago. He had been wondering how he was going to break the news to you. 

“Leaving? So soon; do you know when you’ll be back?”

No he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you again. For all he knows the day he leaves could be the last day the two of you ever see each other again. “No, but I’ll see what I can do to come back soon.” 

“You better,” You give him a soft elbow jab to the side, “I’m gonna miss you y'know. I’ve gotten so used to having you around these past few weeks.” 

He had as well, almost regrettably so. Your presence in his life had done something to him that he’d never be able to undo. Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to feel not being able to see you. The daily morning walks, evening dinners, and weekend hangouts had quickly become a staple in his life. 

For now though the only thing he wanted to do was live in the moment. He didn’t have to say goodbye right now and he wasn’t going to act like he did while he was with you. That time would come later.

Taglist:

@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving

[abbyromanoff]

Hello, Abby

I would like to request for a story about R and G!pWanda have financial problems, then they decide to be p*rn creators because they think it's the best way to earn money so fast. One day they set up the challage for their fans: who donate the most will be able to meet them and have dinner, which G!pNat happens to be the lucky one. Things are getting intense and Nat finally get to f*ck R while Wanda watching, dirty talking, and jerking herself off. Or they both f*ck R in both holes.

Thank you! I love all of your works❤️❤️❤️

The Lucky Winner

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Wanda Maximoff x reader, WandaNat x reader

Word count: 3,148

Warnings: smut, threesome, public sex, punishment, jerking off, masturbation, cunnilingus, R and Wanda are porn stars, Wanda and Nat both have dicks, degrading, pet names, praising, jealousy, mentions of bisexual!R, slightly manipulative!Wanda, financial struggles, breeding, no protection, thinks that’s it!

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“Look, it’s all we can do right now! We can barely afford to eat, Y/N, would you rather fucking starve?” Wanda yelled, now standing from the table you sat at. The loud sounds of the pipes creaking and neighbors next door who were, once again, partying like college students.

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“Then what? Why can’t we just do this, for us?” She spoke, a little softer this time.

“I want this money, Wanda, I do. I want to be able to go on dates or go out with friends or be able to have more than a meal a day, I do. But there are so many downsides too. I mean- what if one of our friends see it? Or better yet, our bosses! And how am I supposed to deal with the fact that I’m not the only one seeing your sexy body.” She stifled a laugh as you came to a close, a small pout forming on your lips. She grabbed both of your hands in hers, kissing the backs of them and kneeling in front of where you sat.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry.” She wiped the tears on your cheeks, you never liked arguing with her. “I know it won’t be easy, but just like you said, imagine all the dates we could go on. We’d get to live, not just survive. It will be weird at first, especially when we’re showing our bodies off to a bunch of horny dudes to jerk off to, but you just need to think of the outcome, love. I want to spoil you, but I can’t do that if we don’t do this.” She had always been so convincing and deceiving, some would call it manipulation, but you called it love. She loved you enough to worry about you and to want to get you both out of this mess. It was all for the money, you’d have to tell yourself, but you knew it would all be okay if you just had Wanda by your side through it all.

And that ended up being true. It had been almost a year since you two had started, and while she was telling the truth when saying it would be weird at first, you both eased into it over time. It had made you beyond the amount you could ever imagine from your old job, that you both decided to quit. You wanted more free time together, less stress. And with this job, you didn’t need to worry about your bank accounts any longer. You two had enough to get by and treat yourself a little bit at the end of each week.

In celebration of the near one-year mark of your shared account, you two had decided on what to do for your lovely fans. You thought of making a longer video, but realized that would’ve gotten boring for the audience. Then you thought about a live stream where your viewers could comment in the moment, telling you both what to do. Only to then realize some would be busy at work or in a different timezone, they wouldn’t be able to join.

Then it came to you, a competition. If you had multiple people bidding on one thing, it would bring in more money and would make it all the more thrilling and exciting for your fans. You brought the idea up to Wanda, hoping she’d agree, but she wasn’t always the best at doing so.

“Are you kidding me? You really think I’m gonna let you go on a date with some pervy old man who just wants to fuck you?”

“Wanda, we’d both be there. And it wouldn’t just be me getting fucked, it would be like a threesome, you’d be there too.” She looked at you dumbfounded, like you just told her you sold her house and kidnapped her dog.

“You really think some gross man would want to fuck me? I have a dick, Y/N, you should know that better than anyone else.” Your cheeks tinted the tiniest bit at her remark. But it was true, before you she was a virgin, as were you. And she hasn’t been with another person ever since she asked you out that one night, she’d be an idiot to do so.

“You never know, maybe it won’t be a man.” She sighed, massaging her temples as if she was handling toddlers.

“Okay, you’re really cute, Y/N, you are, but you don’t need to be a dumbass. 97% of our fans are males, and you think we’d somehow get that 3% of luck? Not to mention that it won’t be all of our fans so that percentage lowers. And not to mention they’re probably all broke, the highest bid will be a man, darling.”

“Ah, you said ‘will’! So, what do you say? We can get it over with and we’ll set some boundaries of what they can and can’t do, just to make sure we’re both more comfortable with the thought.” You gave her your best puppy-dog eyes in hopes she’d say yes, and while she did an amazing job at disagreeing with you, she was horrible at denying you.

“Fine. But, most of that money is going towards that new car I wanted, deal?” You nodded your head quickly, scaring her with your willingness to do such a thing. Creating the account was her idea at first, but you mostly ran the show now with your eagerness. It worried her sometimes, but it was so cute getting to fuck you in front of a camera with hundreds of thousands watching, knowing they’ll never get to touch. But now someone will, and she didn’t like that. But just like she had said at the beginning, it was all for the money. Oh, how she was starting to regret that statement.

“You ready, babe?” You were both standing outside of the restaurant, preparing yourself for a long night. You wore a red dress with a small slit at the end, your shoulders being on display with the loose spaghetti straps adorning them. Wanda wore black dress pants with a dark blue button-up, the top being unbuttoned just enough to barely get a glimpse of her bra.

“Of course, I am, darling.” She smiled, hoping it would convince you enough. It did, and you gracefully opened the glass doors, letting Wanda walk in a moment before you and then following.

“This guy better at least be cute if he’s fucking you. Wait- no, if he’s cute, I’ll kill him.” You chuckled at her possessiveness, rubbing her arm gently while you stood in line to ease her nerves.

“You know the only dick I want is yours, baby.” She grinned to herself, trying to hide her emotions as a worker came up to her, guiding her to where she would be sat.

You both sat there patiently as you waited for your third party to arrive, looking through the wine menu. The best part was that you didn’t need to look at the costs once, already having the whole thing covered by your generous tippers.

“Is this guy really standing us up?”

“Hey, if so, it sucks to be him.” The two of you were interrupted by a woman, who you at first thought must’ve been your waitress.

“Y/N and Wanda?”

“Uh, yes?” You both looked more than confused on how she knew your name, until it clicked in your brain on why you were even here in the first place.

“Perfect. I was your winner.” She sat down across from the two of you, who both had mouths parted slightly. She chuckled at your reaction before grabbing the menu, speaking in a calm yet unbelievably attractive tone. Wanda thought the same.

“I know, I bet you two were expecting a man.” You looked to Wanda to see her nodding, her eyes landing on the woman’s lipstick-covered lips.

“Well, I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

“No, not at all!” You spoke, a little too loud and causing an older lady from the other table to glance at you. You shyly looked down, rubbing the back of your neck and focusing your attention once again on the paper in front of you, even though you already knew what you were going to get.

“Awh, don’t get all shy on us now, baby,” Nat remarked, not seeming to care the way Wanda tensed up at her words. Her high heel grazed against your leg under the table, and the thoughts running through your mind were less than holy.

“So, Wanda, since this one is clearly a bit nervous right now, how did you two meet?” The conversation between them both went on for a few minutes until your waiter arrived, writing down everything you three asked of him, it was clear that he was new.

“Y/N? Why don’t you speak when you’re spoken to, alright?” Wanda said to you, muttering the words in your ear just loud enough for Nat to hear. She smirked, noticing the way goosebumps adorned your arms the more she spoke. You must not have heard what the two had said to you before, your thoughts being even louder than them.

“I’m sorry about them, they get a little shy sometimes.” You rested your hands in your lap, playing with your fingertips as the two spoke of you as if you weren’t even there.

“Oh, don’t worry, I think they’re just the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.” She stared you down, biting her lip as she pictured how shy you’d be when she was in between your legs.

“You see, Y/N, I and your girlfriend aren’t so different after all.” That got both of your attention, watching with curiosity as she leaned back, and took a sip of her wine before speaking.

“In your…videos, you seem to just be a little cock-whore for Wanda. You’d do anything to get your mouth on her, you’re like an addict.” She started, humming to herself at the memories of the videos she had pleasured herself to many times, just wishing it was her fucking you instead. You were grateful for the loud tables near you, that way no one could hear the filth pouring out of her mouth.

“I wonder how addicted I can get you to mine in just one night.” Your eyebrows rose just enough for her to notice, a small laugh pooling from her mouth at you and Wanda’s shared reaction. She grabbed her purse from the table, standing up and giving you both her hand for you to follow. Wanda placed a hundred-dollar bill on the table and the three of you walked out. You guided her to the car that Wanda had been driving, letting her push you against the side as her lips connected with yours. Wanda watched, licking her lips and groaning when seeing her tongue slip into your mouth. You moaned, gripping the older woman’s arms as she held them by your head, refusing to let you go.

“Oh, Wanda, don’t be such a perv. If you’re going to watch at least help me a bit over here.” She kissed down your neck and to your exposed chest, smiling as it rose and fell rapidly. Wanda did as told, her hands running across your body like she’d never seen it before, but you all knew that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“That’s it? I’ve seen your videos, I know what you can do.” She looked around and Nat picked up on her worries.

“Really? You’re scared of people seeing you? Maybe you shouldn’t be posting your partner getting fucked by your cock every day then.” She gulped nervously, letting her fears slip away as she focused on you and your pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve been wanting to touch you since the day I saw you. Once I saw that offer, I knew I had to win. Then, I flew my private jet all the way over here, just so I could fuck you.” She pulled the small straps to your dress down your body, slowly letting the dress fall down your body as you were left bare in the warm night air. She dropped to her knees, grasping your thighs in her hands and pulling your hips forward.

“Ride my face, sweetheart.” You looked at Wanda for approval, only to see her palming herself through her pants. You looked back down at Nat, her hazy eyes staring into your own as you started a small, slow movement.

“I know you can do better than that, Y/N.” She mumbled against you, sticking her tongue out and letting you set your pace. You let out a deep breath, examining the parking lot that was completely empty besides for a few cars and the three of you. Your hips moved on their own as moans left you, your hands traveling to your breasts to tease them.

“Oh- yes! Fuck me, Natty, ruin me!” Wanda could feel a small pang of jealousy in her heart, but she couldn’t deny the act was so pleasurable.

“You like this, Wands?” You asked the woman, cupping her crotch and feeling the hardness through her slacks. “You like watching me getting fucked by someone else?” Your breath was ragged, and Wanda couldn’t stop herself from thrusting into your palm. She watched your hips rut against Nat’s face and whimpered, kissing you with full force to regain some sort of dominance. Nat moaned against you, and the vibrations are what tipped you over the edge. You shook in her hold, your hand clutching Wanda’s shoulder as you tried to get a hold of something.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me, love,” Natasha muttered against your skin, slowly standing up with your juices coating her tongue. She watched you depart from Wanda, a line of spit following after. Her fingers went to your chin, bringing you forward as you could taste yourself on her. Once she let you go, she did the same to your girlfriend, making out with her sloppily as she moaned at your taste.

“You’re such a slut, Wands, letting me fuck your girlfriend like that, don’t you have any dignity?” She stared into her eyes as she grasped your waist, pulling you close to her as you felt her bulge press against you.

“How pathetic do you have to be to get off to a stranger fucking your sweet little thing.” Wanda looked down in shame, but her hard-on proved otherwise. Nat laughed when noticing it, resting her hand on the bulge gently. For a moment, Wanda thought she would go easy on her, until Nat pulled her hands back to slap her covered cock. She mewled, thrusting into the pleasurable pain that Nat gave her.

“Look at this. Look at your pathetic girlfriend, Y/N, can’t believe you settled down for something like that.” You wanted to speak, you really did, but it was nearly impossible to do so. Nat unbuckled her pants, gripping your hand in her own and guiding it to the waistline of her boxers. You shuddered as you felt her, she had to have at least a few inches on Wanda. In a moment of confidence, you grasped her cock in your hands softly, letting it free from its confinements. You stroked her length, watching as her mouth twitched open and her eyes shut. You turned to Wanda, doing the same and relishing in the way they both chased after your hand. You ran your thumb over their tip ever so slightly whenever you got the chance, watching as they mumbled incoherently and panted against you.

“Mm, look who’s putty in my hands now.” You stated, licking your lips as pre-cum drooled out of both of their lengths. You wanted to taste them, but you wanted them inside of you at the same time.

“You act so tough, Natty, but in reality, you’re just a slut desperate for anyone’s touch.” You fired back, teasing her for all the degrading words she used earlier on. She whimpered, cupping your dripping wet cunt, teasing her fingers through your folds and teasing your clit.

“You get yourself off every day to two people fucking, just wishing someone would touch you the way I do. So instead, you waste thousands of dollars just to get your hands on someone, talk about pathetic.” Your lips quirked up, thinking you had her completely under your control. Oh, how wrong that was. She gripped your wrist harshly, slamming your front against the side of the car, your body being on display for the both of them. Natasha pressed her head against yours, her mouth next to your ear as she whispered,

“I guess being a nasty slut really is all you can fucking do.” Wanda stood next to her, her tip teasing your entrance before she slipped in with ease. You sighed contently when the head of her cock entered you, only to throw your head back when the rest of her joined. She shivered at your warmth, creating a slow pace of dragging herself in and out of you.

“You’re still mine, baby. You’re still my fucking bitch.” Wanda whispered against you, her head in the nape of your neck as Nat watched with her cock in her hand.

“Oh, God-”

“Yeah, I’m your God, baby.” Her teeth ran across your neck before pressing down, a whimper escaping your lips as you felt her tongue soothing the pain.

“Good girl, Wands, you’re fucking our girl so well.” She clenched her teeth at the word ‘our’, her jealousy overruling the coil in her stomach that had been building up.

“You gonna cum, Wanda? Hm? You gonna get our slut pregnant?” She nodded, unable to speak as she chased her high. You had already been on birth control ever since high school, so you didn’t need to worry about pregnancy, but it had always been a deep desire of Wanda’s. The fascination grew on you, and soon enough, you were begging her to cum inside of you every night.

“Oh- fuck! I-I’m-” She was cut off by her orgasm, her juices painting your walls white as your bit your lip to stop yourself from screaming.

You didn’t get to experience your high as, once Wanda had released, she was already starting to pull out.

“Wait-”

“Ah, ah, bad girls don’t get to cum, Y/N.” You were suddenly turned around, your body weak as your breath was too. You noticed a small gathering near the end of the street, they wouldn’t be able to see you from here but if they got any closer you would’ve been caught. The two of them seemed to notice this too and opened the door to the back seat for you.

“Now, put on your dress and get in the car. Me and Wanda want to fuck you properly this time.”

[ovaryacted]

Worked on this at like 3 am and I wanted to get this thought out before I went to bed but I’m here imagining Leon having sensitive nipples. I know you’re probably imagining RE2 Leon initially, but let me present to you: RE4 Leon with sensitive nipples yeah? Inspired by this fanart by @larvamars, I be stalking them bad.

NSFW 18+. Slight gentle femdom, handjobs, nipple play, Leon being subby and touch deprived. 1k words.

Leon didn’t realize when it started, or if it was always a thing for him, but he noticed how his chest tingled when he got aroused. What he does remember was how he found out, having you seated on his lap kissing him so deeply he could feel his lips go numb. You already took his shirt off, hands running over the expanse of his shoulders, feeling every sinew of muscle woven into his frame.

Your fingers moved down his chest as you arched up into him, gyrating your hips towards his in a slow grind. He groaned in your mouth, feeling the vibration of it on your tongue as it curled around his own. The bulge in his jeans was already pressing more into you, growing and twitching with every soft swivel of your hips. Without thinking, your fingers touched along his firm pecs, grazing over his right nipple and causing Leon to release a sound that was a mixture of a moan and a whimper.

You pulled away from his mouth and watched his face closely, how his cheeks were growing more pink in comparison to a few minutes ago. He didn’t say anything, but the slight embarrassment on his features was telling. He liked it, probably more than he thought he would, and it took him off guard. You didn’t pull away or move back, carefully rubbing your thumb against his nipple again more intentionally and hearing him gasp. Leon didn’t meet your eye then, turning his head to the side and suddenly more aware of the persistent throbbing of his cock rubbing against the zipper of his jeans.

Leon Kennedy, a man who often handles monsters double and triple his size, turns into a soft needy mess at a mere accidental touch. You smirked to yourself, leaning forward to place a kiss on his neck, his pulse beating at the contact.

“You don’t have to be shy with me baby. I just want to make you feel good”, you whispered in his ear, placing another kiss against the sensitive skin behind it. His breath hitched again, facing you one more and that’s when you saw it in his eyes – desire.

That was how he found himself in this predicament, not complaining one bit at how things took a turn.

Still sat on his lap, your hand was wrapped around his hard cock as you jerked him off. Thumb against his slit, you felt the precum spreading around his tip. You left kisses around his neck and collarbone, watching how his head was thrown back against the couch and you whispered sweet nothings in his ear. Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow, he focused on the feel of you and your touch, his senses being consumed with just you.

You could already tell he was close, your poor boyfriend was always so sensitive whenever it came to having you like this. You saw how he was getting lost in your touch, humming with every pump of his length. He deeply wishes you were sucking him off instead, craving the feeling of your tongue lapping up the prominent vein on the underside of his cock and swirling at his tip just the way he liked. But he didn’t mind this either, frankly, he liked this a ton.

“Fuck, just like that”, he muttered under his breath, stopping himself from thrusting up into your hand since you were sitting on top of him. But in reality, he wanted to hide just how desperate he was for you.

“Yeah? You like it when I touch you like this?”, you commented back, biting your lip and feeling your arousal soak your underwear from making him feel good. You were both two sides of the same coin, two people who lived and breathed to pleasure each other. It was one of the many things that made your partnership work so well.

“Mhm, love it when you touch me”, he lifted his head to look at you then, the haziness of his blue eyes reminding you of a still ocean waiting to crash along the shore.

Leon shifted to kiss you again, hungry and suffocating as he bit at your bottom lip. You felt the way he twitched around your fingers, picking up the pace and squeezing him just a bit more. He practically whimpered in your mouth, a sound that you actively looked for every time you had him in the palm of your hand. A sneaky finger moved towards his chest again, your thumb rubbing harshly against one of his nipples. He was turning into putty at your complete mercy as he got closer to his release.

“Come on baby, need you to be good for me and cum. Make a mess for me”, you spoke to him softly, a contrast to the way you jerked him off with more purpose.

What Leon didn’t expect was for you to pinch at his nipple harshly, pleasure shooting down his spine and pouring into his lower gut. He came right at that moment, thighs shaking underneath you and his stomach flexed as his cum poured right over your fingers. You didn’t stop pumping him, not until his deep groans turned into whines and his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to signal he was sensitive. When you pulled away, you didn’t tear your eyes from his as you cleaned up the mess he made on your hand. Your tongue lavished at your digits, and as Leon watched he could feel himself twitch again.

“You’re something”, he said after, placing a softer kiss on your lips as a thank you for getting him off.

“Says the man full of surprises”, you teased him, knowing you were being kindhearted. He chuckled then, shifting to have you under him on the couch with a grin on his face.

“How about I return the favor and really surprise you?”, he pinned your hips and reached to take your pants off of you completely. You never refused him, and you most certainly weren’t going to start now.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Don't Get Attached | Drabble Series

"I'd rip anything off you,"

“Y/n, are you still mad at me?” Junkook’s breathless voice echoes in the men’s washroom as the two of you exit the tiny stall. Chest heaving up, you run your fingers through your curls before wiping the smeared lipstick off of your face. 

“Why would I be? Mhm? I looove the sight of my ripped dress on the dirty floor,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as your arms fold over your chest which was left covered by the mere fabric of the lacy bra. Just a few minutes ago, you were so immersed in the pleasure of Jungkook’s slender fingers that it took you a good second to realize why you could suddenly feel the cool breeze all over your body. 

“To be fair, I’d rip anything off you,” he says softly, hands inching closer to your waist as his broad shoulders cage your form under him. Arms on either side of you, he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to meet your furrowed gaze before noticing the goosebumps covering your soft skin. 

“Koo …” you whisper, placing your hands on his blazer as his sly smirk slowly softens looking down at your doe eyes. It doesn’t take much for him to fold, just the innocence in your gaze is enough of a motive for him to lift your body onto the countertop. And, as your legs naturally spread apart, the tiny space between you two welcomes him in, as if reserved solely for his touch. 

“I’m sorry baby, you know I don’t do too well with sundresses,” Jungkook mumbles, tucking a few stray curls behind your ear before giving your pouty lips a quick peck. 

“Well, now what? I’m literally naked,” you chuckle from the disbelief, leaning back on the stained mirror. For some context, tonight is your friend’s big gallery exhibition and Jungkook was supposed to be your plus one. But now, it seems like the only exhibition the two of you came to watch is your own mirror sex. To be quite frank, you’re not even sure how it all escalated to this. One second the two of you were arguing about who was more artistically gifted and the next you watched him pin your arms over your head as his thrusts gradually increased in speed. 

“Fine by me. Just the way I like it,” Jungkook says with a grin, nibbling on his lip rings as his eyes scan his favourite canvas. 

“Koo, I’m serious. I can’t go out like this in front of all our friends,” you snap him out of it before slightly pushing him off of you. 

“Here, put this on,” he says, handing you his blazer. “Now, we’re even,” a teasing chuckle escapes his parted lips as he unbuttons his black dress shirt, exposing his sculpted chest and the silver chain that would usually dangle over you. 

“I’m not sure how this is supposed to help us hide the fact that we just fucked,” 

“Who said I wanted to hide it?” Jungkook replies with a sly wink before opening the door, eyes following your every move as his blazer covered just enough of your skin to eliminate possible suspicion. As far as everyone else is concerned, this is a fashion statement. 

“I would lay you down on top of this piano if you’d let me. Listen to the echoes of your pretty moans bounce off the brick walls, giving these people the pleasure of some real live music,” the sound of his raspy voice dragging behind shifts your attention back to your needy boyfriend as you turn around to see him manspreading on the wooden piano bench. 

“What an intriguing offer, unfortunately, all you do is talk, pretty boy,” you tease, as the sound of your heels inching closer to him adds to the heated tension. 

“Don’t do that, y/n,” 

“Do what?” 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” his hooded eyes shoot up, hands tracing circles on your exposed thighs. 

“I think I’ll be just fine,” 

“I know you will. I’m more concerned about myself. When it comes to you I seem to lose all control,” 

“Oh? I’m sorry?” you attempt to act shocked, blinking your naive eyes as to create an image of pure innocence. 

“No, you’re not,” Jungkook scoffs, jerking his head back, and pulling you onto his lap as your lips rest inches apart. 

“I’m not. I like the taste of dominance,” you give into a quick peck before straddling his thighs, earning a slight hiss.  

“And, I like the taste of you. To each their own, I guess,” Jungkook mumbles the last part before pulling you into a deep kiss. Tongues fighting for the said dominance, the space between your heaving bodies is no longer apparent. And, as your hands trail up his warm chest you could feel him smirk into the kiss, his grip tightening around your waist.

“Koo,” you manage to let out a hitched breath before cupping his face which was busy leaving trails of purple marks on your collarbone. 

“Do we have to go back? We can put on our own show at home. I’ll be the artist and you can be my muse, mhm? How does that sound?” he virtually pleads, eyes sparkling under the dim lights of the hall. 

“No way one sundress got you this needy,” you can’t help but giggle, gaze softening at his vulnerable state.  

“You could walk out wearing a sack of potatoes and I’d still beg on my knees,” 

“What will you do if we break up?” you ask hushedly, caressing his soft hair. 

“Oh, there’s no breaking up, baby. I’m too consumed now,” Jungkook grins, sneaking his hands under your blazer before earning a soft yelp from your parted lips. 

“And what if I’m not?” you say teasingly, slowly straddling your hips back and forth, innocent eyes locked on his darkened gaze. Of course, you are, but what’s the fun in admitting your weakness? 

“You’re not?” he asks, smirking at the way your mouth slights parts as his thumb rubs circles over your throbbing heat. You might be his weakness but you also stand no chance when his possessive side takes over. 

“I said if,” you whisper, chest heaving up from the suffocating tension. 

“I’ll make sure you are. Make sure you’re mine,”

Don't Get Attached Masterlist

[yutaholic]

the show must go on (M)

PAIRING: Haechan (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Your best friend, your ride or die, Haechan has never once left your side, but all good things must come to an end.

WARNINGS: strong language; brief mentions of alcohol and drug abuse; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 7.9k words; this is part three of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Seattle, 1991

We met in detention. Eighth grade. Not to be cliché, but I knew Lee Haechan was trouble when he walked in.

Takes one to know one.

What I didn’t know was the role he would come to play in my life. I doubt many people meet their soulmate in middle school. I was pretty lucky in that.

The two of us practically lived in detention that entire year. Ninth grade was a little better; we just hung out behind the school instead of inside it. A silly pair of dumb kids wearing matching leather jackets and passing a cigarette back and forth, coughing up smoke and thinking it made us cool.

We thought we had it all figured out. But only Haechan turned out to be right.

He was the one that started the band. Haechan threw us all together and made music out of our chaos and trauma. He was the glue and without him, we would fall apart.

You clambered quietly into the passenger seat and whispered, “They’re asleep.”

Haechan was behind the wheel, but the van was parked on a grassy knoll just off the main highway. “Finally, some fucking peace and quiet,” he mumbled, sitting in a cloud of smoke that poured from his lips. The thick scent of marijuana filled the van from stem to stern.

You followed your best friend’s gaze. His eyes were firmly planted out the window at the black curtain of nightfall painted with billions of little lights. “The sky looks so pretty,” you said in awe.

“I know. It’s crazy seeing stars this bright.”

There was a tiny lull of silence. You were thinking. It wasn’t often you got to be alone with Haechan lately and it was making you crazy - not getting to confide in your best friend.

“I let Mark raw me,” you blurted out.

Haechan snorted. “I heard, but clearly your birth control did its job.”

“I snorted cocaine with Jeno… and fucked him in a dressing room.”

Your best friend looked at you, arching a brow. “So?” Doing crazy shit with Jeno wasn’t new, to be fair.

“What the hell am I doing?”

“What you do best - loving everyone except yourself.”

You frowned. Nail hitting the head every time, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t do that,” you said in a small voice.

Haechan smirked and put the joint to his lips, taking another long drag. “You know me better than to think I’m going to be your conscience and scold you,” he said a moment later. “It makes sense you’re trying to get in as many rounds of fun before the summer ends.”

The summer was winding down. August was half over.

I didn’t want it to end. I couldn’t. Because I knew in my heart when we went home, we would go our separate ways. Forever.

There would be nothing holding us together anymore.

“Haechan?”

“Yes, my love?”

You fought back tears as you asked, “What are we going to do when it’s all over?”

Haechan slapped on a playful grin for your sake and said, “We’re going to get scouted at a concert and get a huge record deal and I’ll eat you out over a bed of hundred dollar bills.”

You snorted. “God, that would be a dream.” You quickly sobered. “What’s the reality?”

Your best friend’s grin melted away and his voice turned to frost. “Go home. Find a minimum wage job. And try not to turn into raging alcoholics like our parents.”

“I thought so,” you sighed, hanging your head.

Haechan reached over and rubbed your arm. “Save the major depressive episode for back home. Let’s just enjoy these last few days.”

“I don’t want to give up,” you said, meeting his eyes again. The fire inside you lit itself with resolve. No matter how small it was. “I want something more for us in life.”

“I know you do, baby,” Haechan crooned, touching your cheek affectionately. “But some things are just out of our control.”

You blinked with the urge to cry. You couldn’t fight it anymore. Regardless of his gentle tone, Haechan’s words sounded final. You slipped out of the seat and to the floor to lay your head on Haechan’s thigh, closing your eyes as he stroked your hair.

After a moment, Haechan whispered, “I’ll never forget you for as long as I live. No matter what happens. I hope you know that.”

The tears slipped down your face as you smiled and said, “I love you too.”

Haechan’s lips twitched. He wanted so badly to not let it bother him, but he couldn’t. He knew damn well when the summer ended and the band came up empty, there would be a permanent wedge of broken hearts and crushed dreams between you.

So, so lonely. That was Haechan’s biggest fear. Losing his best friends would destroy him beyond repair. He would go through life jaded and bitter, like his parents.

Maybe it really was unavoidable. Fighting fate sounded great in songs, but reality wasn’t kind. He knew that better than anyone.

The next morning, you woke in the bed with Jeno’s arm tucked around your waist, his body molded to yours keeping you warm. There was no telling which boy scooped you off the floor and put you in bed, but your money was on Mark. He was having a hard time looking at you and Haechan was mysteriously quiet.

But you knew why.

Tension had settled over the van, the worst of the worst. After the show in Seattle, there were no more gigs to be played. Now, the long drive home would begin, shadowed by defeat and failure.

You resorted to doing what you always did; trying to alleviate the pressure and raise everyone’s spirits. Once the boys were up and actually keeping their eyes open, you had Jeno drive to the nearby state park.

As he did, you drifted between them. They were like strangers, devoid of energy and hope. Mark hadn’t touched his guitar since the final gig. The gentle strumming of his acoustic and the beauty of his softly whispered singing didn’t fill the van anymore, to your dismay.

Haechan curled up in the bed and didn’t say a word. Jeno drove silently, smoking one cigarette after another and blowing the smoke out the window. You started with him, running your hand over his shoulder as he held the wheel. Jeno glanced at you briefly, offering a weak smile that even he couldn’t keep. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple.

You went to Mark next and curled up next to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly. Mark was a little surprised, seeing as how the two of you had been working hard to keep your hands off each other, but was over the moon to have you in his arms again. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hands up and down your back.

“Won’t you play a little something?” you asked gently.

Mark shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, closing your eyes to fight the tears.

Finally, you went to Haechan and sat on the mattress next to him. He just looked at you, his stare vacant and blank. You brushed his long hair from his face and leaned in to trace a few kisses from his cheek to the corner of his mouth, just to see if you could spark a reaction.

Haechan pushed you ever so slightly and said, “That’s not going to work this time.”

You frowned. And gave up. The three were inconsolable and it broke your heart.

Sidling over to the cabinet, you found your notebook and began flipping pages, going to where you’d left off. Your brows stitched when you didn’t find it and that was when you noticed the torn remains of paper in the metal spiral.

“Okay. Which one of you ripped the page out?”

Mark met your eyes and said, “Don’t look at me.”

You called, “Jeno?”

“You know I wouldn’t touch your shit,” he replied calmly.

Leaving you to turn to Haechan, his eyes closed. “Haechan?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your memoir,” he said, hissing your name.

That made you flinch. You understood his anger, but not the vitriol toward your story. Your eyes fell to the notebook and the missing page, and your hands began to shake.

You threw the notebook at the cabinet and it landed in a pitiful heap. Tensing with frustration, you bent your legs, wrapped your arms around your knees, and hid your face, crying as quietly as you could.

Mark moved slowly, grazing against you to pick up the notebook and tuck it back into its place neatly, but he didn’t have the courage to comfort you. Too scared he would make it worse.

It was Haechan that slipped to the floor and enveloped you in his arms, cradling your head to his chest and dabbing at your cheeks with his sleeve.

When Jeno pulled into the park, you breathed in relief. The van was too stifling, suffocating you in all its misery. You hopped out of the van without a word and started marching for the scenic overlook advertised on a giant sign like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

One-by-one, your bandmates whined and huffed, but inevitably followed. They could wallow in their own disappointment, but they couldn’t stand seeing it hit you.

That’s how the four of you came to sit at a lone picnic table, silently staring at the Pacific Ocean, watching the waves ebb and flow in all its unwavering glory.

The tears had dried on your face. Breathing in the sweet, salty air grounded you again, clearing your lungs and your head.

You were the one to finally break the silence. “I need to come clean about something.”

“Go ahead,” Jeno replied, yawning as he still struggled to shake off sleep.

Wringing your hands in your lap, you began, “I’ve been mailing pieces of the memoir to Cassie.”

“That explains the trips to the post office,” Mark said offhandedly. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be glib or not.

“And?” Jeno pressed.

You took a breath. “She submitted it to a publisher for their… consideration, I guess it’s called.”

Well, that woke everyone up.

“Are you serious?” Haechan asked, his eyes wide.

“Yeah?” You were befuddled by the reaction, glancing around at them. All three of your boys were sporting similar looks of shock. “You knew I was writing a memoir.”

“We knew you were scribbling in a notebook to toss in a bin and find it again twenty years later and laugh at all the dumb shit we did…” Haechan’s tone of disdain was not lost on you.

Jeno’s gawking increased. “Babe, are you insane?”

You felt small on that picnic table between them, utterly confused, and snapped, “No. I’m trying to get us out of this hell!”

Grimacing, Mark asked pointedly, “You wrote about all the very illegal shit you’ve been doing?”

Oh. That’s why they were freaked out. Underage drinking. Marijuana. Cocaine. All very punishable offenses. You shrugged and plastered on your cutest, most innocent smile. “A little?”

“Fuck,” Jeno swore, sliding off the bench to his feet and running a hand through his hair.

Haechan shook his head and chuckled. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

You rubbed your arms awkwardly.

I was so determined to make it work. It was tunnel vision, so intense I could see nothing else.

“What did the publisher say?” Mark asked, touching your shoulder in comfort. The awkwardness was killing him too.

“I don’t know,” you said, leaning into him a little, desperate for warmth. “I call Cassie at every stop to check on the dogs and she promised to update me on any replies from the publisher.”

Jeno looked to Haechan. “Can they report us to the cops?”

Haechan waved him away, looking more amused the longer he thought about it. “No. She can just say it’s all fiction. Very embellished fiction.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Good thinking.”

You almost laughed. Haechan could lie his way out of almost anything. In this case, it would be in your favor. You glanced around at your boys again. “So…, is everyone mad at me or are we good?”

“We’re good,” Haechan said, patting your head. “For now.”

“Fuck.” Mark sounded exhausted. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know if I could handle losing our music career, but being notorious in a fucking book.”

It was your turn to comfort him, running your hand across his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers.

Jeno kicked at a pinecone, watching it skitter across the rocks. “We’d be the fucking losers just known for banging bitches at every stop,” he sneered. Then, the drummer had a thought and raised his brows. “Actually, whatever gets us paid, I don’t really care.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Mark asked curiously. “You technically wrote the book, but it’s about all of us.”

You made a face. “It’s our story. Of course I’d split everything fairly with you guys.”

Haechan smiled at you ever so faintly.

“I can’t believe our story’s almost over,” Jeno mumbled bitterly.

You perked up. This was as good a time as any. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?”

You got up and spun on your heels, so you could face them all at once. “I was thinking…,” you said, shifting your weight. “We could get a place together and we’d work odd jobs to pay the bills, but we would play gigs here and there. Whatever we could get.”

Jeno simpered. You weren’t clinging to the band. You just didn’t want to let go of them.

“We’d be scraping by a living forever,” Mark pointed out.

“But we’d be doing what we love,” you argued.

“Try loving something that never loves you back,” Haechan said harshly. “You become bitter and miserable. Just like my parents. And yours.”

You scanned their faces. Each had the tiniest bit of hope in their eyes, but their expressions were firmly rooted in defeat. “You guys just want to go home after everything we did this summer and…,” you trailed, a tremble creeping into your voice. “Pretend like it never happened?”

Jeno softened. “Of course it happened. We’ll always look back and remember this as the best days of our lives.” He talked to you like he was soothing a fussy baby. “But best days don’t last. That’s why you look back on them.”

Your eyes burned. More tears would come any moment now and you weren’t ashamed of them. “I just don’t understand why you’re all giving up. Why am I the only one trying to keep us together?”

“Because you’re the dreamer,” Mark sighed.

Haechan snapped, “Stop being so gentle with her,” and Jeno was quick to warn, “Don’t be a dick.”

Your best friend jumped down from the picnic table and approached you. You knew by his tone and his gait that he was about to dress you down and you readied yourself for the blow.

“This is how it’s going to go,” Haechan started, pointing at the guitarist. “Mark’s parents will blow their entire retirement savings to send him to a good college to recover their reputation. And they will never let him date someone like you.”

You flinched.

“Fuck you,” Mark hissed, every muscle in his body tensing for a fight.

Haechan continued, “Jeno won’t be able to hold down a job. He’ll be a regular customer in rehab, then jail.”

Jeno held up his middle finger. “Go to hell.”

Haechan set his eyes on you and a chill ran down your spine. “And you,” Haechan said through clenched jaws. “You’ll meet some guy you can barely stand, but he’ll keep a nice roof over your head. He’ll put a couple babies in you after some miserable missionary and your entire personality will center around the screaming kids you never wanted. Just like your mom.”

Your blood turned to ice in your veins. Planting both hands on Haechan’s chest, you shoved him back and screamed, “You son of a bitch, I hate you!”

Jeno was suddenly caught in a very precarious position. As you stomped off, his first instinct was to go after you, but in the next second, Mark was off the table and charging toward Haechan. So, Jeno had to decide whose life was in the most imminent danger.

And he correctly chose Haechan.

Mark grabbed Haechan by the collar with both hands and crowded into his face. “I’m gonna fuck you up,” he roared, but Haechan didn’t fight back.

He was numb. His face was blank, his eyes cold.

Jeno did his best to wedge himself between them, but he was too defeated. All the thunder was gone from him. “Why did you do that to her?” he asked sadly.

“She has to let go of us,” Haechan replied, looking from Jeno to Mark. “Make her hate you. It’s the only way.”

Mark shook his head in dissent, clenching his fists even tighter in Haechan’s shirt.

You put plenty of distance between yourself and the boys, and the moment you found a solitary bench between trees, you collapsed onto it, buried your face in your hands, and wept.

We have no secrets, Haechan and I. He knows the darkest depths of my soul, and I know his.

I never thought he’d use that as a weapon, but I should have known.

He was the only one that dreamed bigger and harder than me. With it all ending, his heart was dying and pain makes us do horrible things. Especially to the ones we love most.

Because he knew I would still love him anyway. No matter how much he broke me.

Time lost all meaning as you cried on that bench. It wasn’t just Haechan’s words that crushed you, it was the cruel reality of life. You didn’t want to live without your boys. The four of you were too interwoven and connected. Being parted from them would be like tearing at the fabric of who you were.

You were expected to walk around with a gaping hole in your chest forever?

Sure. Most people did. It would account for all the hate and anger in the world.

“My love?”

You lifted your head at the sound of his voice, roughly wiped your wet cheeks, and growled, “Go away, Haechan. I swear to god, I will slap the shit out of you.”

Haechan dragged his feet over to you and said, “Go ahead. I deserve it.”

You refused to look at him as he sat beside you. Your eyes focused on the ocean.

We had the same biggest fear. Becoming our parents. As time went on, the more it seemed inevitable. A cycle that couldn’t be broken. We were fools to think we could be different.

That’s what I was hanging onto. I had to avoid that fate at all costs. Part of me thought that as long as I had my boys, they could save me from it.

“How could you say my worst nightmare so casually like that?” You were still shaking.

Haechan hung his head. “I was trying to hurt you.”

You scoffed, deadpanning, “At least you’re honest.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, like all the air was sapped from his lungs. When you didn’t respond, Haechan said, “Look at me. Please.”

“No.”

Your best friend sighed loudly and slouched into the bench, resting his head on the back. The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, watching the world pass you by.

“You’ll prove me wrong,” Haechan said tenderly. “You will be the one that breaks the cycle. The rest of us will just watch.”

Still, you said nothing. You hated him.

Because Haechan always ended up being right. It was a gift and a curse.

Mark and Jeno came looking. The latter was the only one brave enough to approach you, holding out his hand without a word. You peered up at him and let your hand slip into his, and Jeno led you away.

Haechan blinked and the tears escaped. He held them back until you left, refusing to cry in front of you. Keeping his hands in his lap, Haechan didn’t bother to dry his cheeks.

Mark blew out a pained breath. “What do we do?”

“You know what you have to do,” Haechan said, cutting his eyes at Mark. “If you don’t stand up to your parents, they’ll make you give her up.”

“I won’t,” Mark started.

“They will wear you down. You know they will. She’s not who they have in mind for their perfect boy. They hate her.”

Mark nodded.

“If you grow a spine, the two of you can at least live happily ever after,” Haechan joked, but there was a bitter edge to his voice.

“What about you and Jeno?”

Haechan stood. “It is what it is.”

The cloud in the van darkened. Jeno and Mark were miserable, and predictably stoic about it. Neither knew what to do with you. As it turned out, you were the rock, not Jeno.

Curled up in the bed with your back to them, you closed your eyes, but had no intention of sleeping. You would just lay there and wait for something to break or change. You’d done the heavy lifting so far. Now it was their turn.

Haechan couldn’t take the silence anymore. He trudged out of the van and slammed the door behind him.

You didn’t bat an eye. At this point, you didn’t have the energy to ask or care.

That wasn’t true. I always cared. Nothing could ever make me stop caring. We are all cursed and that was mine.

When the doors wheeled open, Haechan was sweaty and disheveled. You wondered how much time had passed as he sat on the mattress beside you. “Come with me,” your best friend said, holding out his hand.

You smarted, “Or what?”

“Or I’ll drag you.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave him an obstinate glare, but your curiosity was piqued. The hell had he been doing that got him so shiny with sweat? It didn’t take him that long to jerk off.

A defeated sigh left your lips. He was still your best friend, even if you hated his guts at the moment.

After batting his hand away, you got up and followed Haechan outside, rolling your eyes at the looks Mark and Jeno were sporting.

Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as Haechan led you into the trees, not too far from the van. When you saw what he was bringing you to, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

A camping tent was set up; the one Haechan had insisted on strapping on top of the van in case he found a nice spot. And it seemed he found one.

This was a habit of ours. When the yelling at my house got to be too much, when I couldn’t block it with my locked door or the blankets over my head, I would sneak out the window.

My parents didn’t notice. Hard to notice if you don’t care. Haechan would always be waiting to run off with me to the park. There were safe, secluded areas to set the tent up without fear of being interrupted.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten laid in that pathetic little tent. I’d probably mourn the damn thing when it finally fell apart.

Just as I mourned my relationships.

“How about a night not sleeping in the van?” Haechan asked, unzipping the front flap and holding it open for you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you barked, narrowing your eyes at him and crawling inside.

Haechan bit his tongue. Any witty remarks would not be appreciated at the moment.

But given Haechan was allergic to quiet, he wasn’t going to keep enabling your cold shoulder for much longer. Watching you lay on your back and make yourself comfortable over the sleeping bags, Haechan sidled up next to you as close as humanly possible.

“I’m still mad,” you huffed.

“I know.”

Well, with that out of the way, you relaxed. He knew you were upset. Now the groveling could begin.

Haechan rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand, staring at you and how intensely you were ignoring him. He reached over and stroked your cheek tenderly, and said, “I love you. It’s gonna hurt so much when you leave me.”

You closed your eyes, your heart clenching in your chest. “Then why are you trying to make me leave?”

“To give myself some control over the pain. Maybe.”

You turned your head and looked at him. His hair had grown longer over the summer, its natural jet black. It was cute; falling into his eyes, hiding them behind fluffy strands. You brushed some back with your fingertips so he couldn’t hide. Then you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

Haechan smiled softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. “You’re my best friend. I’ll be next to you in a nursing home.”

“Will you still kiss me if I have no teeth?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Heck yes. That would be hilarious.”

Both of you laughed at the sudden mental image of you and Haechan as two little old people sucking each other’s faces.

The rest of the world melted away. Your summer wasn’t coming to an end. It was just another night spent from home inside Haechan’s tent. If you didn’t think too hard, you could convince yourself nothing had changed.

Nothing was over.

You talked for ages, about everything. Like always. The light beyond the tent died and everything went dark, prompting Haechan to light a familiar lantern beside the sleeping bags. Soon, the ambience shifted from birds chirping to crickets singing.

When the atmosphere changed, so did the gravity inside the tent.

He was good at talking you away from the edge. Haechan made you laugh hard enough you forgot your anger and sadness, and he started stealing kisses between words. His hand occasionally traced patterns on the bit of your exposed stomach until it slipped under your shirt and got comfortable palming your breast. That’s when you began initiating kisses and running your fingers through his hair.

Kissing overtook conversation. You were immune to all the pain when his lips were on yours and you wanted more, wanted to overdose on the feeling until your heart was made of stone.

Haechan was my family. He was the only home I’d ever known, the only person who loved me unconditionally like my parents were supposed to. Soul mates aren’t always romantic. Maybe they’re just the person that loves you despite everything.

There was a little hitch in his breath as Haechan deepened the kiss, his arms heavy around you. He needed it too, needed to feel loved again before it was all over.

Your lashes fluttered as Haechan settled on top of you, abandoning your lips to suck and nibble at your neck. Your hands were on his shoulders, having been pulling him to you impatiently. His leg wedged between your thighs, pressing against your sex.

Haechan tugged at your clothes, undressing you while he bruised the base of your neck with his lips and teeth. When you yanked off his clothes and finally felt his naked body against yours, you moaned into his mouth and tangled your fingers in his long hair.

It was so familiar and comforting. With Haechan, everything was okay. Nothing could hurt me here.

He seemed in no rush to touch you where you really wanted him to. Typical. Haechan always dragged things out and made it last. He knew you had all the time in the world and was in no hurry to plow through it. Pun intended.

Haechan sucked your nipple into his mouth and pinched the other with his fingers. You bit your lip and squirmed under him, feeling his hard cock against your thigh. You hooked your legs on his hips and flexed, bringing him flush against you for good measure.

You flipped your positions and Haechan let you, holding your waist as you rolled onto him, straddling his lap. He kissed you even deeper, running his hands up and down your back while you cradled his face and tried to snatch all the air from his lungs.

Haechan broke from the kiss to ask playfully, “Have you been writing about sex in the book?”

You were breathing heavily, flushed and dazed from his kisses. “Yeah,” you rasped, running your hand through your hair to get it out of your face.

Haechan tugged you back down and trailed kisses over your jaw before whispering in your ear, “I need to give you some new material.”

“As if you haven’t given me plenty already.”

“I have competition,” he retorted, brushing his hands to your breasts. “Jeno is a slut with a dragon dick. You have a fat crush on Mark and he railed the shit out of you.”

You snickered. “Who are you then?”

Haechan steered you up and shuffled down until his arms were around your thighs and his mouth was inches from your sex, and purred, “I’ll always be the one that gave you your first nut.”

Though you were about to laugh at that, the next sound out of your mouth was a whimper as Haechan tongued at your folds. You were mindful not to put too much of your weight on him, but his hands on your hips said otherwise, bringing you down to meet his lips.

The sight of his face buried in your pussy, between your thighs, was so arousing you felt your walls clench on nothing.

“Fuck.” You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Reaching for his hands on your hips, you held on tight and joked breathlessly, “The book will give us more groupies than the band ever did.”

Haechan stopped sucking on your clit long enough to retort, “God, I hope so.”

An involuntary shudder shot through you when he latched back onto your bundle of nerves. You squeezed his hands even tighter, eyes winching closed. Another moan tumbled off your tongue. Haechan didn’t play when he was sucking you dry.

It was probably one of the few things in life he took seriously.

“Mm,” you hummed, trembling when his tongue swirled around your entrance before returning to your clit. “So good, baby.”

Haechan made a noise against your cunt. “You know, you only call me baby when I’m getting you off.”

“Do I?”

“I like it.”

“I like when you touch me,” you said in barely a whisper, biting your lip lest you go into juicy detail.

Haechan would have loved that.

You were so far gone already. Your hands found his hair, your hips bucking against his face. Little nothings mingled with your moans. Haechan kneaded your hips, but as you got closer, he reached up to grab and squeeze your breasts instead.

It felt so good you felt guilty that you weren’t touching him. Releasing his hair, you lilted back and wrapped your hand around his hard cock, feeling it twitch the moment your fingers made contact.

Haechan broke away from your pussy and scolded, “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not?”

“Only think about yourself right now. Be selfish. You’ve earned it.”

You swallowed and let Haechan guide your hands back into his hair, and he bit the inside of your thigh as a warning to do as he said. Your body tensed when he lapped at your clit again and you decided to obey. You would be selfish.

Haechan smirked when you arched away from him, propping yourself over him on your arms and riding his face. He reeled a hand back and slapped your ass, the best way he knew how to convey to you that you were giving him exactly what he wanted.

He lapped at the arousal between your folds, his tongue teasing your bundle of nerves again. Haechan knew that was your weak spot, where you were most sensitive. If he played his cards right, he could have you screaming for mercy from the overstimulation.

“Right there,” you panted, voice pitching higher. "I'm close."

For once in his life, Haechan said nothing. He ate you out like a man starved, suddenly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. He sucked on you until your legs shook and you whimpered his name.

And when orgasm hit, you went higher than where the cocaine took you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body shuddered, and you chanted, “Fuck,” like a mantra.

Haechan kept going until you pushed frantically at his head.

“Stop. Stop. Stop,” you begged, fisting his hair and finally earning yourself a reprieve.

Haechan chuckled, slipping his arms under your legs and tossing you to the side. You gladly rolled to your back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, waiting to come back to your senses.

You felt his hand smoothing its way up your thigh before cupping your sex, feeling all the slick he’d gotten out of you and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath. His fingers prodded into your pulsing pussy, hooking at your sweet spot, and you writhed, sensitive.

“Put a condom on,” you told him hurriedly, still trying to catch your breath.

As you came down from the high, Haechan crawled over to the other side of the tent and returned with a packet, tearing it open with his teeth. You watched him fit the condom on his hard cock and you spread your legs invitingly when he moved between your legs, grasping your knees and pushing them toward your chest, bending you in half.

You rested your hands on his hips and drew him toward you when he slipped his cock into your entrance and stroked in slow. “Mm, baby, you’re so good,” you mewled dramatically. “The biggest ever.”

Haechan, whose eyes had been on his cock sinking into your tight cunt, tossed his long hair out of his eyes and said, “Fuck you,” with a tiny snort.

You grinned and sank your fingers deeper into the flesh of his hips, tugging him toward you in tandem with his movements. He loved when you left scratches and bruises in his skin. A reminder of you he got to carry around with him for days after.

“Kiss me,” Haechan whispered, rocking into you harder.

Without missing a beat, you lifted your head to meet his lips, but his hands wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the ground. A noise of frustration left you, because you couldn’t close the rest of the distance with him holding you down.

Nipping at your lips, he taunted, “What’s the matter?”

Rather than answer, you moaned as his cock bottomed out in you again. Your face tensed with pleasure, every thrust making your toes curl. You were still raw from orgasm and his cock hitting you right made a shudder race through you.

Haechan went still. When you peered up at him in confusion, he smirked and said, “Fuck me.”

You hooked your thighs higher up his hips and started grinding into him. Haechan looked down to watch you bouncing on his dick, sucking in a breath when your pace grew more hurried and desperate.

“Please move,” you whined, eyes closed. Sweat formed at your back with the effort, your body burning.

“You’re doing fine without me.”

“I’m never okay without you,” you said breathlessly, out of your mind with lust and emotions. The two were colliding.

Haechan draped over you, slipping his fingers into your hair, and fucked into you at a ruthless pace for that, making you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out.

The last thing you wanted was his name echoing through the woods. You would never live it down.

“Oh god. Oh fuck.” You clawed at his back, trying to find purchase.

Haechan gathered you in his arms and you sat up face-to-face, straddling his lap. Haechan kissed at your neck, crushing you in his arms. You rode him, his hips matching your rhythm.

“Come for me,” Haechan purred in your ear, saying your name silkily. “Again.”

It wasn’t fair that he could snap his fingers and your body would answer. You were so close and had been together for so long, your skin knew his touch. Your heart gave in to his every desire and whim.

Ecstasy spilled over and a moan caught in your throat.

Haechan held you even tighter as you came, biting his lip as he felt you clamp down on his cock, holding his breath to stave off his own orgasm until you sighed his name and slumped against him.

You buried your face in his shoulder and whimpered as his thrusts turned ragged, his groans pitching higher until he released into the condom. You rubbed his back and kissed his neck while he came down, lowering you to the floor gently and landing at your side.

The two of you breathed heavily. Sex broke something in you both that you needed. It felt final.

Like it was the last time.

Haechan discarded the condom and crawled back to you, getting a blanket out from one of the sleeping bags to drape over your bodies. You nestled closer to him, ready to doze off in his arms. Haechan settled a hand on your thigh, the other behind his head. Your eyes fluttered closed as his chest rose and fell with his breaths.

“I’ll never stop fighting,” you whispered with resolve. “And you shouldn’t either.”

He said nothing, but pressed a kiss to your temple.

The next day, the van was on its way home. You sat in the passenger seat as Jeno drove, just as you had when summer - and the trip - started.

When Jeno parked at a rest area, you ventured inside to look for a payphone.

Haechan leaned back against the van, arms folded.

Mark wandered over to him, asking in a soft voice, “How is she?”

“Ask her yourself,” Haechan retorted.

Mark frowned. “You know her better than anyone.”

Haechan’s eyes darkened as he said, “You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

Mark opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Jeno, who had been hovering close by, smirked at the exchange and murmured, “Says the one person actually capable of hurting her.”

Haechan shot him a glare. “She loves Mark more than she ever loved us,” he started.

Jeno was quick to cut him off, “You know damn well that’s not true.”

“Maybe she’s right about us,” Mark spoke up, glancing between them. “Maybe we should stay together and try to make it work.”

Haechan let his head fall back and groaned. “Pussy power strikes again.”

“Are you done?” Mark snapped. “You are the biggest hypocrite, you know. You’re hoping and praying she’s right. That she makes something happen. You’re trying so hard to look like you don’t care, but you don’t want to lose us.”

Tears filled Haechan’s eyes. His lips pursed.

Jeno cocked his head. “We know that, Mark,” he crooned cutely. “Our Donghyuck cares the most. That’s why he tries so hard to hide it.”

Haechan quickly wiped his cheeks. The tears had escaped too fast. After a pause, getting himself together, Haechan said, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I didn’t mean it.”

“We know that too.” Jeno reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

The two looked at Mark expectantly. His anger faded and he huffed a sigh.

Your voice broke the moment. “Guys!”

“What?” Jeno barked, turning to see you racing across the parking lot toward them.

You could hardly breathe, panting like you’d run a marathon. “They want to publish the book!”

All three of them gaped in perfect sync.

“Are you fucking serious?” Haechan wheezed.

“Yeah,” you said in disbelief, chuckling to yourself. “They want me to keep sending in chapters and they’ll assign me an editor to help organize everything. And then I’ll have to fill in the gaps, but… it’s gonna be a book. An actual book!”

In the next second, you were the meat in a boy sandwich and you couldn't have been happier about it.

Once everything calmed down, Mark shook his head and exclaimed, “This is insane!”

Haechan took your face in his hands and planted a big kiss on your lips with a loud, “Mwah!” Which made Jeno whine, “I was gonna kiss her and I can’t now!”

“I’ll kiss you too,” Haechan taunted, wagging his tongue and reaching for Jeno, making the drummer turn on his heels and run for his life.

You giggled as Haechan chased after him and Mark took the opportunity to wrap you in his arms and bury his face in your neck, enveloping you in a hug. You held him tightly and closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“You did it,” Mark whispered, saying your name in reverence. “You made this summer count for something.”

Tears pricked your eyes.

Haechan and Jeno traipsed back over, pushing and shoving each other with big grins on their faces.

With the celebration winding down, you looked at your boys one-by-one and said, “There’s a couple of conditions.”

Jeno grumbled. Haechan arched a brow.

“I won’t write the last chapters and send them in until you get clean,” you said, pointing at Jeno.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious.” You planted your feet and stared him down. “You think I’m going to risk this book being a hit and us getting a huge payday just for you to blow it all on blow?”

Jeno sulked.

“It’s a fair condition,” Haechan said lightly.

“I know it is!”

You waited patiently.

“I’m not an addict,” Jeno insisted. “I am a casual user.”

“Then you can casually stop,” you smarted.

He made a face. After a tiny lull, Jeno handed you the bag from his back pocket and you didn’t hesitate to cram it into your own. Its next destination was the nearest toilet.

You turned to Mark. “There’s a condition for you too.”

Mark grimaced nervously. “I’m listening.”

“You have to do what you want with your own life. Not what your parents want.”

Mark visibly relaxed. His eyes went soft. Something happy and content washed over him. “But I don’t know what I want.”

You shrugged. “You have time to figure it out. Change your mind as many times as it takes until you find what makes you happy.”

“Okay,” said Mark, smiling.

Finally, you turned to Haechan. “And you.”

He tilted his head and puckered up his lips.

“You’re not your father, Haechan.”

“You sure? I was pretty quick to cut you down.”

You scoffed. “Last I checked, I’m still standing. Bitch.”

Haechan chuckled.

“She’s right,” Jeno said, draping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to press a kiss to your cheek. “We shouldn’t give up on the band already.”

“The book could make some people check us out,” Mark added, optimistic again.

All eyes were on Haechan. He smiled bashfully and said, “And if it doesn’t - if it all fails - at least we’ll know we tried.”

“No regrets,” you finished with a nod.

Haechan suddenly reached into his pocket and handed you a balled-up page.

The missing chapter of your memoir.

You gaped when you realized what it was. “I should have known you took it.”

“I couldn’t handle someone talking so highly about me,” he said under his breath.

“Oh. Only you’re allowed to speak highly of yourself?”

Mark and Jeno laughed.

Haechan did too. Then he sobered and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for believing in me.”

You gave him a puzzled look. “Haechan, you started the band. Don’t you remember?”

“No?”

“We met in detention in eighth grade,” you reminded him, to which Haechan bobbed his head. “You noticed Jeno drumming his hands. You said you saw Mark playing acoustic by himself during lunch. And you heard me singing under the bleachers when I skipped gym.”

“I forgot all that,” Haechan mumbled, his eyes twinkling like they shone with stars. “Damn, I really gotta quit drinking.”

Mark moved to your free side and said, “Yeah, dude. We’re all here because of you.”

Haechan looked at his three best friends, his family, smiling at him, and it almost broke him on the spot. He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

Jeno laughed loudly. “I’ll be damned. All you’ve ever wanted is to be the center of attention and now that you’ve got it, you don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Yep,” Haechan said with a sheepish grin.

You closed the distance and hugged him, patting the back of his head. “It ain’t over till it’s over,” you whispered for his ears alone and Haechan let go the breath he’d been holding, releasing all the tension and pain in his chest.

Once you parted, Mark reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. You melted into his familiar arms and flushed when he said, “You are, by far, the greatest person I have ever met.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay.”

“Wait.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted to your toes. “Maybe a little more.”

Mark smiled as his lips met yours in a chaste kiss that he poured his all into.

A kiss that was dramatically interrupted by Jeno, knocking into Mark enough to jostle you both. “It’s not your job to save us, you know,” he chided sweetly.

Yes, it was and it always would be. Because they saved me first.

“Hey, I’m just an instrument of the power of rock and roll,” you said, putting a hand on Jeno’s chest and giving him a playful shove.

“I take back every compliment I’ve ever said to you,” he joked, tickling your sides.

You laughed.

The four of you gabbed and teased each other for what felt like an eternity. The air was lighter. The sun a was a little brighter. Your boys were smiling again and you felt the pieces of your heart snapping back into place.

Hope is a powerful thing. A gentle promise that maybe - just maybe - we could all be happy and whole.

“We’re burning daylight,” Jeno eventually said.

You exclaimed, “Let’s hit the road,” and it was the first time you said it without dread.

Hopping into the van after you, Mark stuck his head out and called, “Don’t forget the trash.”

Jeno proceeded to scoop Haechan up in his burly arms and carried him to the van.

“Very funny,” Haechan deadpanned, but he couldn’t help but grin.

Smiling till your cheeks hurt, you got in the driver’s seat and fired up the engine, pulling out of the rest area and onto the highway, toward the new life awaiting you and your boys.

Everything would change for us. The drive home wasn’t some miserable journey we’d been fearing. It was the final chapter of our summer, but only the beginning of our story.

Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!

[notafunkiller]

cherry

Summary: During your family getaway, things get a little messy when you meet Bucky's old friend.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, pet names, language, alcohol, mentions of sex, jealousy, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 4.5K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: This story will have around 4 parts, this is the 2nd part.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You keep coming across each other in the morning and during dinner for the next couple of days. He’d refused the offer, you heard from Jessica. You noticed he doesn’t enjoy talking about business in general, so you never open the conversation about it.

His family is really lying to him without shame, and you can sense how cold their bond is, but what can you do? You wish he knew... you wish you could talk about it with him. If only...

That’s why you are surprised when both of your families decide to organize a getaway in Austria for the weekend, and Bucky is coming along.

Thankfully, the cabin you’re staying at has more than enough rooms even with Bucky and William’s sister there.

Rebecca is a physiotherapist, she’s thirty and she lives in France. She seems very close to Bucky. They’ve been hanging around a lot since you arrived.

You wish you could say you are close to your family. You’ve been barely speaking to your mom since this whole arrangement became a real thing. But you didn’t say even a single word to your dad. And Bucky noticed, but he didn’t comment on it even as he helped you get your luggage to your room.

“You know I could have done that myself, right?” You smile.

“No need to. Your boyfriend should have, but he’s a punk.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “No wonder why you won’t...”

You immediately puff, anticipating what he wanted to say. Why does he want to bring that up? “What, fuck him?”

“I was gonna say share the room with him. My little brother’s sex life is none of my concern.”

You nod, all flushed. “Good. I’ll go take a shower and be right back.”

You don’t know why you tell him this because it’s not like it’s his job to inform anyone. That should be William’s, but he’s not here. And even if he were, you know you wouldn’t ask him to.

“Alright. Uhm, see you later.”

Bucky didn’t anticipate Rebecca waiting for him in the doorway of his room. She has a “I know everything” look, making him blush even though he did nothing wrong.

“How old is she?” She asks soon as Bucky closes the door.

“Who?”

“You know who, Bucky.” She jumps on his bed amused. “Your little crush.”

He puffs in response as if that’s a real answer.

“Come on, don’t be mad. It’s okay. Maybe she’ll realize she is into older guys.”

“Rebecca!”

“What?”

Bucky groans. “You are talking about our brother’s girlfriend.”

Rebecca’s eyes glow, and he has no idea what he’s just started.

“They haven’t been together long though. I doubt two people who live in different rooms-”

For some reason, he gets defensive immediately and interrupts her. “That is their choice and you should respect it.”

So it’s hers, Rebecca puts two and two together.

“You think he is that bad?” Rebecca changes the subject a bit to get more out of him, and Bucky realizes, but he can’t help but ask.

“What?”

“In bed. She seems angry all the time.”

She doesn’t remember the last time she saw her brother looking like this. This is more than a crush at this point. He’s annoyed, angry and livid, all at once.

“What? You never thought about it? Never heard them?”

“Can you go to your room now?” He snaps, trying to brush the images of you with William off his mind. It makes him sick to his stomach. “I don’t wanna talk about my little brother’s sex life!”

Rebecca laughs, walking to the door.

“You didn’t deny she’s your crush! And I didn’t even say her name, by the way.”

Shit... He didn’t even realize.  Things are going too far, he needs to snap out of it.

“Your room, Rebecca.”

“Such a bad man, mid-life crisis hitting you for two years..” She stops for a few seconds before she corrects herself with a wink. “One earlier.”

Bucky groans. “Rebecca!”

“She’s into you anyways, Buck. You’ll save him from dating or even marrying someone who doesn’t love him.”

Somehow, her words set him on fire and cool him at the same time. Rebecca is good at reading people, and he sensed something is off about you and William, too, but how can he hope... how can he think about kissing his brother’s girlfriend even after a break up?

“She was checking your ass on the stairs.” She adds with a smirk. “And it was not subtle.”

And then he’s left alone with his confusing thoughts and feelings.

*

Something’s wrong with him. He’s been completely —and obviously— avoiding you ever since he helped you with the luggage, and you wonder what you did wrong. As soon as you get inside any room he is in, he finds excuses to leave. Was your tone too rude earlier? You didn’t intend to get mad, but you couldn’t help it.

You know he is an adult, and he should be able to face you even if it bothers him, yet you can’t help but feel bad when you see him outside, in the cold.

You take the nearest blanket without thinking twice and open the door.

His head snaps in your direction, and you smile shyly, wrapping the blanket around his back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you, I just came to give you this.”

His shoulders relax, and he reaches out to take your hand. “Thank you! You’re not bothering me at all. You can sit with me if you want.”

Neither of you has any idea where this came from. You thought he didn’t want to be around you, but how can you say no to this?

You sit on the chair next to him and smile when he covers you with the blanket.

“No, no. This is for you.”

“I’m not gonna let you catch a cold, love.” His voice sounds authoritative but not distant.

“Then let’s share.” You grab the end of the blanket and adjust it until you are both covered. “See? Perfect!”

After that, you’re quiet for a few seconds, trying to find the right thing to say or ask him.

“Are you alright?”

Bucky smiles. “I’m alright.”

“Well, you look alright.”

He blushes and laughs at the same time, making you giggle. He looks so adorable like this.

“Then why did you ask that?”

“To make you smile. You were quite tense.”

“When?” He tilts his head, and your shoulders touch under the blanket.

“Ever since we arrived, to be honest. Did I do anything to upset you?”

“No, love, you didn’t upset me.” He immediately assures you, but you’re not certain he’s being honest, and he senses it. “I mean it, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression and made you uncomfortable.”

It’s easy to notice when he is lying at least. He surely didn’t intend to make you feel bad, but he’s been avoiding you.

“Don’t worry about me.” You sigh. “You can just tell me next time, though. So I won’t be in your way.”

“What does that mean?” He can feel the panic rushing through his whole body.

“I mean, it’s your family, and they decided to have this random vacation. I could have stayed home.”

Not entirely true because you were asked to come along.

“Well, your family is here too, plus your boyfriend. But it’s irrelevant, anyway. I am sorry for ignoring you, I was just… consumed by my thoughts,” he says honestly, and you smile.

“It’s okay. It happens to me too.”

Especially when it comes to him.

“Why are you not with William?”

You try not to look disappointed as you answer. He has a point to ask you that. After all, William is your official boyfriend, and you two didn’t spend much time together. But you hate it anyway.

“You want me to leave, huh?”

You try to take off the blanket, but he doesn’t let you.

“No, no. Don’t go, I mean... I just expected you two to spend more time together.”

“Well, I wasn’t too keen on coming here. I have a lot of work to do on Monday, and I wanted to prepare some docs beforehand, but my parents forced me indirectly to...” Bucky snorts, amused for some reason, so you stop talking.

“You don’t like spending time with old people much, do you?”

Old people? Does he mean your parents?

“By old people you mean you?” You ask jokingly and turn to him just to see him smirking. The little beard he grew over the last few days makes him somehow even more gorgeous. He’s probably, truth be told, the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

“Yep. I’m turning thirty-nine after all.”

Holy fuck... The question is why you find this so sexy.

“That’s a very nice age,” you comment amused, playing with the edge of the blanket. “You make thirty-eight look very good.”

You don’t have to look at him to know he is smiling again. Good, he should know, and it’s not wrong to compliment someone.

“Thanks.”

You start to talk about random things shortly after: jobs, projects, random hobbies. He is shocked you enjoy origami, and you can’t believe he was in a band during high school. Well, you can imagine it, but it still surprises you. It’s comfortable and nice, but every time he calls you love, you feel yourself shivering more and more. And he senses it, immediately starting to brush your arms with his hands under the blanket.

“Maybe you should go inside.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you protest, melting under his touch. It feels so good. “Can I ask you something?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

“Ha, funny!” You playfully roll your eyes. “Is it your parents’ anniversary or something?”

Bucky lets out a chuckle. “No, no special occasion for them. Why?”

“Saw a birthday cake...”

“It’s not for them.”

Fuck, is it William’s birthday? No way. Your parents would have told you… you wish you checked the calendar with everyone’s birthday before starting this conversation.

“Is it Rebecca’s?”

“Nope.

“Then...” You think for a little and when it hits you, you gasp. “Yours?”

“Yep.” He pauses, turning his head just enough so he can look into your eyes. “My daddification era is starting.”

Your immediate reaction is a burst of laughter as the lightheartedness of the moment caught you off guard, followed by a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. It feels like your face is on fire.

“But you’re not turning forty...” You mumble, your words barely audible. “I mean, I had no idea. I’m so, so sorry, it’s so embarrassing!”

“So no gift for me, huh?” He teases, utterly unfazed. He hadn’t expected anything at all, and seeing you blush so furiously is endearing. “I feel deeply hurt.”

Without thinking, you lightly slap his chest. “Shut up!”

“That’s not how you talk to your elders, ma’am.”

“Okay, dad,” you snort in response, but there’s a momentary pause from Bucky. He holds his breath, a flicker of different emotions crossing his face.

*

The knock on the door doesn’t wake him up, but it surprises him. He slowly drops his phone on the bed and puts on the nearest T-shirt before opening the door.

There’s no one there waiting, instead, he finds a tall cocktail glass made of paper with a note inside it. Confused, he carefully picks it up from the floor before getting back inside again.

If you don’t drink anything today, I’m gonna punish you... with my presence.

So think twice before refusing :)

Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes

*

What Bucky doesn’t expect when he gets downstairs in a great, great mood is to see you, Rebecca, and Cherry talking on the couch.

He freezes, shocked, but he doesn’t have time to recover before everyone starts to hug and wish him a happy birthday. Cherry kisses both of his cheeks and hands him a small gift, which he assumes it’s a watch based on the size.

“Surprise!”

Bucky smiles. “It’s actually a surprise, I really didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Becca said we should keep it a secret. When did I ever miss your birthday?”

He instantly looks in your direction, worried for some reason you might misunderstand this situation, but you don’t seem mad at all. And why would you? You are with his brother. You’re not his. Not even a little. Because if you were...

Rebecca smirks satisfied and hugs him too. “Happy birthday, grandpa!”

He hears you laugh, and before he can think twice about it, he sticks out his tongue playfully toward you.

“Keep it low with the flirting, will you? Your little brother is in the room,” Rebecca whispers, amused, in Bucky’s ear before letting you wish him a happy birthday.

You stop awkwardly in front of him, wondering if you should hug or kiss his cheeks.

He makes the decision for you, grabbing you by your waist and getting you closer. You open your arms and wrap them around his back, shocked, knowing how intimate the way he’s holding you might look. But you don’t care. You let yourself enjoy this as you rest your chin on top of his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thanks for the drink, love. The best gift I received.”

You hide your smile in his shirt.

“You haven’t even opened others yet.”

“I don’t have to.”

You bite your lip, breaking the hug before it gets too suspicious, and give him space so your mom can wish him a happy birthday.

Rebecca winks at you, which makes you even more confused, but you don’t think much about it, focusing on Bucky.

The breakfast goes well, with Bucky in the center of attention despite his obvious attempts to shift the focus to anyone else. Your parents decide to get some shopping done around lunch and get some food for all of you, so you don’t have to worry about much. William tries to do some affectionate gestures from time to time, but you ignore them as much as you can, without making it obvious. You still have to play your part.

Cherry seems like a nice girl. She’s Rebecca’s age and they met during university. They all have been friends for a couple of years, and it’s easy to see that by how comfortable they act around each other.

As they talk about some fancy place in Spain you’ve never been to, you scroll randomly on Instagram.

You decide to search Rebecca and Cherry up so you can follow them, and as you look at Rebecca’s photos, one post in particular catches your eye.

You can’t hold back your gasp, which immediately draws Bucky’s attention.

“You good?”

“Yes,” you answer absently and zoom in on the first pic. There are around ten people there, including Bucky, Rebecca, and Cherry. It’s clear they are all close, but you didn’t realize how close Bucky and Cherry are. They are sitting next to each other in almost every photo. In the second to last one, he is holding her by the waist in a very boyfriend way, which makes you close your eyes.

Of course they were a thing. Of course! And now she’s here... You feel close to crying and you don’t remember the last time you felt so stupid.

Why do you care so much? You are officially dating his brother and you’ve been just friends.

You close the app quickly and stand up, ignoring Bucky’s eyes on your back as you announce, for the sake of appearances, that you’re gonna take a nap.

You don’t let yourself tear up until you close the door.

What if they hook up again here? What if you’ll hear them?

Jesus, anything but that! You couldn’t bear it... You’d be sick for real.

*

You don’t go down for lunch. Your mom comes a few times to check on you, then William, then your mom again with lunch.

You feel hurt and annoyed with yourself. You can’t act like a kid all the time, so when Rebecca comes to check on you, you decide to go downstairs with her.

Bucky looks at you immediately, concerned and confused, but you don’t let your eyes linger too much on him, especially since he is sitting next to Cherry. You drop onto the couch, next to William, and he smiles.

“Feeling better?”

“Much!” You lie, but you do it well enough not to get questioned.

“So now that we’re all here, can we see the surprise, Buck?” Rebecca asks excitedly.

You watch Bucky get up without saying anything, and everyone stays quiet until he returns with a tray full of drinks. He keeps one to himself and takes another one that looks like a cherry mocktail while everyone else hurries up to take one of the drinks. Bucky heads toward you with a smile. “I guess I am not as rusty as I told you last night.”

You know exactly what he means: his first job was as a bartender. He shared stories with you about glasses he broke in the first month, but how he learned, yet it’s been years since he’s made a drink.

You can’t deny the drink looks tempting, especially with your penchant for cherries, but the mere thought of sipping it turns your stomach. “Thanks, but I can’t drink this.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more pronounced. “What’s wrong? Still feeling sick?”

“No, I just hate cherries. I can’t drink it,” you lie in a disgusted tone, keeping your eyes on the table.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” He asks immediately, surprised because he saw you eating cherries before. Why would you hate them all of a sudden?

Cherry herself is walking toward you with Rebecca, so in a moment of madness, you extend your hand. “Can I taste yours?”

Bucky nods, and you immediately take the glass from his hand and take a sip.

It tastes okay, but it’s not your favorite, for sure.

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“Is it bad? Should I-”

“I’m fine, enjoy your drinks, Bucky. It’s your birthday.” You try to sound as casual as possible. “Gonna get some wine.”

“Wine?” Your mom's surprise is evident in her voice. “Since when do you drink wine?”

“Special occasion. My brother-in-law,” You have to force the words out of your mouth without choking. “Is turning thirty-nine.”

You haven't even gotten tipsy until now, so the half glass of wine, combined with the lack of a proper lunch, makes you feel a bit dizzy. Rebecca immediately catches on and nudges Bucky, who’s been on the edge all night, to help you. William and your parents have already gone to their rooms.

You’re half asleep when you feel Bucky’s arms wrapping around your waist, causing you to open your eyes in shock.

“What are you doing? Let me down.” Your face makes contact with his chest as you speak.

“I’m taking you to bed.”

You snort immediately, letting him climb the stairs with you in his arms. “You can’t take me to bed, silly. Go back to your p-pretty... friend.”

“I’m carrying my pretty friend right now.”

“Smooth talker.” You sigh when he opens the door. “Not me.”

“Who do you mean then, love?” He helps you sit on the bed, and you instinctively reach for his hand, running your fingers along it. His skin feels remarkably soft and warm. You don’t remember the last time you found hands attractive. Or veins. At least, not like this…

Deep down, you know you never stood a chance anyway. Even if you weren’t officially with William, you’re far from Bucky’s type. Cherry, from what you've observed, is an amazing woman, and you can admit that he has great taste.

He probably sees you as too young for him, perhaps even as a little girl. 

You scrunch your nose, and Bucky sits on the bed too since you won’t let go of his hand. He allows himself to enjoy this fleeting moment for a few seconds, aware that it won’t last. This won't hurt anyone, right?

“She’s so pretty and nice, I get it.”

“Get what, love? And who is pretty?” He lets you take his other hand too as he gently asks.

“Cherry.” You sigh, tapping his palms with yours lightly. “I guess she came here to win you back. And I understand. But like... you’d be wasted,” you complain, grabbing his face all of a sudden.

Bucky leans in instantly, closing his eyes.

“If something didn’t work once, why would it work now?” You stroke his beard gently, taking your time. “I mean, sometimes it does, but I can’t see it happening for you. You’re old,” you laugh, making him laugh too.

“I’m old?”

“Ihm, you are. The daddification era looks good on you.”

Bucky’s mind is racing now. From your touch to your words... he feels weak.

“Thank you, love. But how do you know about Cherry?”

“Saw some photos on Instagram this afternoon. You looked gorgeous and all over each other,” you bite your lip, unable to stop touching him. Even if he doesn’t belong to you...

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t serious, love.” He brings his hand to your face too, caressing your cheeks, which only makes you giggle.

“Hmm?”

“We’ve been friends for ages and we just had some... fun for a little while, but it wasn’t a relationship.”

You puff. “That is a form of relationship too! And maybe she wants you now.”

“I doubt that. But even if she did, I don’t want her like that, okay?”

“But she’s so pretty and funny,” you add, surprised.

“Many women are. But I told you, there is nothing like that.” His tone is serious, but you can’t understand.

“But you had sex with her,” you point out, visibly upset. You hate that even though it’s silly.

“O-kay, you need to get some sleep.”

You move your hand down to stroke his chin. “I’m serious, you’re...” You find yourself glancing down to his lap for a brief moment. Although you can't see anything, you just know it’s big. “A whole package. Don’t waste yourself.”

“You think I want Cherry?”

You don’t understand the surprise in his voice. Why wouldn’t he want her? If he wanted her once...

“You’re so confusing,” you murmur, and your eyes fall on his bottom lip the moment he licks it. It’d be nice to feel how soft it is. His mouth seems so soft and wet, and you bet he knows how to use his tongue. Ah... “You wanted to have sex with her, but you wouldn’t want anything with her now?”

Bucky smiles widely, surprised by your interest in his past. He knows it’s silly, especially since you are with William for some reason and he’s pushing forty, for fuck’s sake, but he can’t help himself.

“It was only for a summer.”

“Is this what you do with everyone?” He gasps when he feels the tips of your fingers on his lips as you speak.

“W-why?”

“Don’t waste yourself, okay, pretty boy? They don’t deserve you.”

Bucky literally chokes, completely taken aback.

“What?” He gently grabs your chin. “Who doesn’t deserve me? Cherry?”

“All of them.” You yawn, trying to keep your eyes open. “You deserve a better family.”

You’re so sad for him. They’re lying to him, and he’s so lonely.

Bucky’s confused but also touched by your words. You probably noticed how tense his relationship is with his parents, and you paying attention to that gets him emotional.

“We all do. But right now, you need to rest.”

“Don’t go to her tonight, okay?”

“Jesus, princess.” He strokes your cheek gently, and you giggle for a second.

“I’m not a princess. But please don’t do it. I can’t hear it…”

“Hear what?”

In response, you clap your hands together three times, mimicking the sound of skin slapping. “Please.”

“You mean sex?”

“Duh! At least...” You shake your head, trying to fight tears. You don’t want to cry. “Not tonight. I don’t want to hear it.”

Bucky sighs. He’s already told you he isn’t going to, but you mean sex now, and he wants to make that aspect clear too.

“I am not going to be with Cherry in any way, okay, princess? You won’t hear a thing because there isn’t a thing going on, alright?”

You nod happily and giggle. “Yes, sir.” You move your hand to your forehead, imitating a military gesture.

“Wow, such a good girl,��� he snorts. “I expect this attitude from you tomorrow too, love.”

You roll your eyes, still in a good mood. “I’m sleepy, go away.”

“After you made demands about my sex life?” Bucky laughs. “Should I make demands about yours?”

“Go away!”

“Oh wait, there’s no sex li-” You hit him with the nearest pillow you find before he can finish his sentence.

“Augh! So aggressive.” He leaves the room still giggling.

*

You wake up in the morning feeling well-rested, without any headache or stomach ache. You can’t believe how embarrassing you acted toward Bucky. Like who are you to ask him not to sleep with someone? You wonder how he hasn’t told you to fuck off already.

He’s so kind, and here you are, lying to him, just like the rest of the family. Just like William. You’re deceiving him… 

Even if he was into you after all, you lying to him like this would ruin any potential relationship before it even begins.

You need to stay away from him.

Packing doesn’t take as long as you anticipated. William helps you get your bag in the car, and your family makes sure to remind you to be a good girl as if you are a naughty kid being left with a new nanny.

As much as you avoided Bucky until then, you can’t help but stare at him as Cherry hugs him. Indeed, there is nothing but friendliness all over his face, and you wonder if this is how it’d be if you fucked him —in another universe. You’d still be his friend? You cannot understand this. Not even a little.

Unfortunately, you don’t notice Rebecca looking at you until it’s too late. As she hugs you goodbye, her words make you freeze.

“Take care of yourself, and please don’t play with both of my brothers’ hearts.”

The shame floods your entire body, overwhelming you. You rush to the bathroom to splash water on your face, attempting to hide the tears staining your cheeks.

You fucked up really badly.

Tags:

@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624 @cjand10 @mayusenpai666 @abitofblues

[criminalamnesia]

so after comparing price/simon to tolerate it, I’ve been wondering what song to compare gaz/johnny to

may I present: Johnny and Gaz giving lover vibes

(also I am working on ending 2 for tolerate it!)

he’s obsessed with you. the first time he saw you, in some dingy little bar he couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as you would be in— he was hooked. hopelessly in love, already throwing back a shot and sauntering over.

you’re alone at the bar, and he thinks that’s a damn shame. tells you that in those words. you laugh, and he cracks a smile— and the conversation starts to flow.

has he known you twenty seconds, or twenty years? there’s a natural spark between the two of you, something that makes it feel as though you hadn’t just met.

he buys you a drink, and before you know it, the two of you are on the dance floor. a slow song is playing, and you smile as his hands find your waist. his grip is gentle, reassuring.

he spins you around and you laugh, throwing your head back as he nearly drops you. by the time the song ends, the two of you are flushed and laughing like newlyweds.

an older woman comes up to you and tells you that you two are the cutest couple she’d ever seen. you play into it, giggling and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek while he slings an arm around your shoulders.

needless to say, he goes home with you that night.

and when you wake up in the morning, he’s still there. standing in his boxers in your tiny apartment kitchen, cooking eggs and brewing coffee.

you swear you fall in love right then and there.

the two of you eat, and the conversation is easy. you almost don’t want him to leave— you have to fight the urge to ask him to stay.

you think it’s a little ridiculous— you don’t know him! but it feels like you do. and you think he feels the same way, because he taps his number into your phone and tells you to call him later to talk about a proper date.

you’re fucking done for.

the first date is perfect. he brings you flowers when he comes to pick you up, and you roll your eyes but can’t hide the blush that rushes to your cheeks.

you swear you’ve never met a man this nice. never gone on a date with someone so kind, so charming. sure, he’s a flirt— but it’s not distasteful. he’s a people person, that’s what he tells you. you believe him.

he pays for dinner, of course, even when you try to pay for your half. he walks you home afterwards, and gives you a kiss goodnight, and you feel like you’re living in a fucking movie.

all your friends think you’re crazy. they start to talk some sense into you— he’s just luring you in! just trying to get in your pants! he’s hiding something!

their words creep into your brain, and the next date you have with him, you’re quieter. more detached, more calculating. and fuck, if your friends weren’t completely wrong.

you go on date after date, and before you know it, you’ve been with him for a year. you’re moving into his flat, and although you know you’ll be home more often than he will, you don’t mind.

when he gets deployed for the first time during your relationship, the honeymoon phase starts to crack. you try to cope with the loneliness; with the boredom that his being away brings. you didn’t realize how much time you spent together until he left.

you call when you can— but it’s not often. he’s somewhere he can’t say, and the cell reception isn’t exactly spectacular. you send letters, and receive a few back, but communication is few and far between.

and then he surprises you one day by bursting through the door, nearly giving you a heart attack as you jumped off the couch.

you scold him as you jump into his arms, complaining “I thought you were a robber! I was prepared to kill you!”

and he just laughed and gave you a kiss.

your life together isn’t perfect. you have fights and disagreements. you refuse to let him meet your friends for the longest time because “they still think you’re playing the long game of deception.”

but you make up because you can never stay mad at each other for long. you finally get your friends to come around to the idea of him, and they instantly hit it off with him once you force them into the same room.

he wrangles his squad into meeting you, and they make sure to embarrass him. (they also love you, and when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, they tell him how happy they are for him.)

“so, you’re the one he never shuts up about, aye?”

he proposes after three years. it seems short to some, but you don’t care. you’ve loved him three summers now, and you sure as hell want all the rest of them, too.

so you get married and it’s nothing huge. an intimate ceremony with family and close friends. his teammates are his groomsmen. they each takes turns spinning you around the dance floor later that night, and they tell you that if he ever breaks your heart, they’ll kick his ass. you throw your head back and laugh.

at the end of the night, after all the guests have gone, he asks you for one last dance.

it’s to the slow song you’d danced to the first night you met so long ago, in that dingy little bar. he spins you around, and you step on his toes because of all the wine, but neither of you care. all you care about is each other.

he’s deployed a week after your wedding, and you hate to see him go, but you’d never put yourself between him and his work. his team promises you they’ll get him back to you safely. you trust them with all your heart.

when he returns months later, he’s sporting new scars and stitches. he’s the most beat up you’d ever seen him, and you hold back tears as you patch him up. only when he’s soundly asleep do you let the tears fall.

but life continues. you make the most of his time on leave, and anxiously await his return on deployment.

and although you would never dare utter the words, you know that the day he doesn’t come back to you is the day a piece of you dies, too.

you didn’t believe in soulmates until you met him.

[waltermis]

Stay, Stay, Stay

Summary: You & Natasha share a comforting moment

Warnings: hurt/comfort

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader (romantic)

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NATASHA!! ❤️❤️

↠↠↠ 

Natasha sighed, cutting her peanut butter sandwich. She listened to Rocket, Nebula, and the rest of the remaining avengers argue from across the universe. It’s been five years since the snap. Five years since Thanos. Five years since the Avengers officially split up. Five years since she lost Yelena. Five years since everything… But no matter how much time passed, she couldn’t let this life go. 

“Carol, are we seeing you here next month?”

“Not likely,”

“What? You gonna get another haircut?” Rocket teased.

“Listen, fur face. I’m covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth are happening everywhere. On thousands of planets.”

“Uh, all right. All right. That’s a good point. That’s a good point.”

“So, you might not see me for a long time.” 

“All right. Uh well, this channel's always active. So, if anything goes sideways… anyone’s making trouble where they shouldn’t… comes through me.” Natasha stated, before Rocket, Okoye, Carol’s channels disappeared, leaving Rhodey. “Where are you?” she asked him.

“Mexico. The Federales found a room full of bodies. Looks like a bunch of cartel guys never even had a chance to get their guns off.”

“It’s probably a rival gang,” Natasha denied quickly.

“Except it isn’t. It’s definitely Barton… what he’s done here, what he’s been doing for the last few years. I mean, the scene that he left…I gotta tell you there’s a part of me that doesn’t even want to find him.”

“Will you find out where he’s going next?” she asked, taking a bit of her sandwich, tears filling her eyes, threatening to spill.

“Nat?”

“Please?” she asked, quietly. She looked so vulnerable, her eyes glassy and nose red from holding back tears.

“Okay,” he sighed, before leaving the channel.

Natasha sighed, trying her hardest not to cry. She missed him, Clint, he was her best friend. One of the first few people that truly trusted her. When she met Clint’s family, they welcomed her in with open arms. They were like her second family; finding out that they were blipped broke her heart. She couldn’t imagine what Clint was going through. 

‘God, this is a fucking mess.’ She thought, wrapping her arms around herself. Taking a bite out of her sad excuse of a sandwich, Natasha’s senses picked up the sound of wheels rolling against the hardwood floor. Natasha furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, watching you hauling two big blue luggage, she’s never seen before, through the common room. “Moya lyubov’, where are you going?” You ignored her, continuing to grab the luggage’s outside. “Detka? Are you okay?!” Still nothing. Natasha began to panic; thoughts of you finally realizing that you deserved better clawed their way into her brain. “Dorogaya? Can we talk about this? Please!”

“Babe?” you asked, coming back. “What’re you doing in here? I thought you were gonna use Meeting room A today… W-why’re you crying?” you asked, wrapping her up in your arms. She didn’t even notice the tears that streamed down her face. 

“Please don’t leave me! I promise I’ll spend more time with you, just please don’t go…” she cried into your chest, her words muffled as she tugged you into her, her grip tight.

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere,”

“Then why are you taking your luggage outside?!” she wailed, her nails digging further into you, afraid that you’d leave the second she loosened her grip.

“What? Those aren’t mine.”

“Huh?” she sobbed out. “Then whose are those?”

“They’re Tony’s, from when he and Pepper used to live here. They still have a bit of stuff here they haven’t moved to the cabin yet, he wanted me to finally bring it over for him.” you explained slowly, knowing that the lack of sleep was finally catching up on your redheaded girlfriend.

“Then what about you ignoring me?” she asked softly, her grip finally loosening.

“I was listening to music,” you showed her the air pods still in your ears. “I couldn’t hear you. I didn’t even know you were in here. I thought you decided to use one of the meeting rooms instead. You know I would never intentionally ignore you,”

Natasha nodded; her eyes grew heavier listening to the soothing sound of your voice. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.” she begged, tilting her head up to look into your eyes.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that would make me leave you. Ever.” you promised, pecking her on the lips.

“I love you; you know that right?”

“Of course, I do, and I love you too. To Vormir and back.”

“Where’s that?” she asked sleepily, her head thudding on your chest again.

“Not sure… just came into my head.” you laughed, picking her up in your arms. You brought her back to your shared bedroom, placing her underneath the covers.

“Stay,” she said, grabbing a hold of your arm.

“Of course.” Bringing her into your arms, you placed a firm kiss on her head, letting sleep envelope the two of you.

↠↠↠ 

864 words

[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor

connie falling in luv w his bsf sister ; a series? idk

enjoy! it’s been a while i’m sorry😔

“con, this is my sister— step sister, y/n.” jean introduced you to the shorter dude with his buzzcut dyed lime green. “y/n, this is my friend, constance.” jean smiled because he knew he was about to piss connie off.

“nice to meet you, constance—“

“don’t call me that.” he glared at you whilst he spoke in a cold tone. jean snickered as your friendly smile dropped.

“is that not your name?”

“it is but you can call me connie. don’t let your brother get you fucked up.” for it to be the first time meeting him, he was kinda mean. but you guessed you had to respect his boundaries if you two were gonna get along, even if he was rude in establishing them.

jean shoved connie to the side. “don’t talk to her like that. keep on, i’ll kick the shit outta your lil ass.” but all he did was shrug and walk away.

“sure.” jean turned to you with a sympathetic look on his face.

“sorry bout him. he’s an asshole.” you glared your brother down.

“figures.”

jean obviously wasn’t your blood brother but he was your older brother through marriage. his dad married your mom a few years ago but you two had been around each other for longer than that so the marriage brought you closer over time. jean had moved out when he finished college and invited you to move in with him so you did. he was the only man in the world you trusted enough to live with. connie was younger than jean but a little older than you so he was friends with jean for a while. you just never bothered to meet him when he came over and stayed in your room instead. but it was different this time because jean actually asked you to meet his friend this time so you didn’t see a problem with it.

“your sister’s cute.” connie took a hit of the blunt he had in his hand. jean kicked him in the leg.

“you know how i feel about that.”

“what?” he looked clueless but he knew what jean referred to.

“you hittin on my sister and you don’t even do relationships—“

“whoa.. i didn’t say anything about relationships. literally just said she was cute, calm down.”

“i don’t even want you thinking she’s cute. think she’s ugly or something.”

“but she’s not though.”

“oh really? i—“ jean was about to pull out his phone and show the most embarrassing pictures he had of you, but luckily you had walked into the room before he could.

“jean, can i borrow your car?” jean looked at you like you were crazy. the only reason you were asking was because your car was in the shop so you had no choice but to utilize the brother you had. you just hated asking or relying on people for things.

“uh no. take the bus.” connie let out a snicker before your eyes darted to his reaction. all you did was roll your eyes and continued the conversation with jean.

“i haven’t rode public transportation since high school. you know i’m only asking because lola in the shop right now…”

“…lola? you named your car?” connie felt the need to comment for whatever reason.

“shut up. yes, i did. you got a problem, baldy?” connie didn’t respond with anything else. “yeah. anyways, jean?” jean smacked his teeth before allowing you to get his keys.

“thank you, thank you!” you pulled your brother in for a hug. “love you, i’ll be back!”

“you better..” he mumbled.

“it’s the way you actually let her use your car. your dumbass didn’t even ask where she was going.” jean paused because he realized how right connie was. he was going to regret it but felt no need because the deed had been done and he’d deal with it whenever you came back.

“shut up. it’s the way you actually don’t know how to mind your fucking business.”