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#he gets so shy around him lol
wherethefaieare · 8 days ago
Bucks little bashful smiles when hes with Eddie
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biohczard · 3 months ago
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also called:
what if auntie janie met auntie donna the hallucination master that made her gardener see his dead family before murdering him to show her devotion to miranda and is maybe 20 at most, aka met angie the doll made from the bones of donnas dead sister by their deceased nutty dad, try and change my mind capcom u cant
uncle fishy moreau, poor dude that just likes rom coms and cheese and none of his family likes him apparently even tho heis even flat out says its his job to keep fishy entertained
werewolf magneto nic cage unkie heisenberg, hes an engineer, i dont need to say anything else
#i think janies hair steadily gets longer each sketch lol#i didnt draw base lines i just went at it thats why its so rough im sorry it was just a funny thought lmao#bc when u posted a thing abt modor the other day i read it and i was like ‘omg donna did smthn similar’ n like#donna doesnt speak at all like i think shes autism coded and a selective mute like i am#she doesnt speak she uses her hallucination powers to talk through the bride doll she carries angie#that LOOKS like it was made from bone and one of the collectables collected from the game is from her little sister (maybe) grave#and the corpse in the grave belongs to an adult when the sister died when she was 9 so#since the flowers around their house cause insanity its more than likely that when her parents gave themselves to miranda for testing the#dad went crazy and dug up her sister and made angie and thats why donna felt such an attachment even tho she doesnt know its her sister#and when her parents died angie is all she could connect to people through ahe already was ‘shy’ but she couldnt talk at all afterwards (in#the japanese edition the american version says its a scar that they dont include in the game so idek capcom) but after the cadou and her#developing hallucination powers she can ‘talk’ but i dont think she actually talks i think she makes unthink she talks lol#she spread her infection to all her dolls too which is creepy shes creepy#she also has a giant ulcer on her face bc of the cadou so she wears a mourning gown and veil lol#heisenberg just wants to kill miranda for forcibly taking him from his family after essentially destroying them w her cult#and turning him into a subject and forcibly ‘adopting him’#but ironically despite claiming he hates his siblings which pmuch all the soblings claim to hate each other#except for donna they always refer to each other as siblings and always ALWAYS talk abt each other#its like real sibs its like oh we hate each other but also if u fite them were gon fite u#except heisy bc ethan killed heisys sibs and he did give ethan like a five second chance to join his side before he threw him in with a#drill to get wrecked lol#how heisenberg got control of the lycsns that MOREAU made i will never lnow or understand#why he has mass nicolas cage energy i will also bever know or understand#i forgot what i was originally gonna say#i have a lot of feelings about this game#also the game has a lot of things that could be useful aesthetic images for janie tbh#granted its mold in the game not ether but capcom doesnt know what mold is suppised to#move like so you wouldnt be able to tell#out.
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weepingvoidpenguin · 5 months ago
Unfortunately Yours
Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?
Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M
Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)
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   Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to. 
   Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.
   You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face. 
   You were the lamb to this White Wolf.
   Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.
   Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.
   The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.
   Scum. All of them. 
   You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.
   “Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.
   “When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.
   “I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”
   He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.
   Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?
   His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.
   You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them. 
   Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.
   You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.
   Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.
   Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.
   Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.
   “Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.
   You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.
   Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.
   He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”
   You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.
   You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled. 
   “There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.
   Like a moth to a flame.
   “How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.
   Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” 
   The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine. 
   A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”
   The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line. 
   Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,” 
   Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”
   You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.
   The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”
   The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”
   Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here. 
   Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.
   So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you. 
   The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business. 
   “Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.
   You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.
   Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup. 
   Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse. 
   Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.
   You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose. 
   You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out. 
   Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you. 
   This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.
   Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.
   “Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.
   Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though. 
   You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features. 
   “You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.
   His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.
   You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”
   You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.
   “Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.
   “Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.
   Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”
   He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.
   “I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”
   “I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.
   And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short. 
   It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.
   What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.
   And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone. 
   You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop. 
   You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.
   You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited. 
   You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped. 
   “You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.
   You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face. 
   “Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.
   You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.
   You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it. 
   You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.
   Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.
   You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,” 
   “You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.
   Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.
   “Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”
   “Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.
   “Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.
   “Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself. 
   “Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”
   He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”
   “You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.
   When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute. 
   “Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail. 
   He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness. 
   Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.
   He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.
   “No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.
   “No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.
   You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation. 
   You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”
   Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark. 
   “I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.
   You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”
   Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,” 
   You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.
   Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.
   You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.
   You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.
   You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”
   “It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”
   “What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
   A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.
   “Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”
   His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.
   “I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”
   You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
   He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.
   “Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.
   “Then what?” 
   “I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”
   “Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.
   “It doesn’t,”
   “Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.
   He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee. 
   “Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”
   “I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.
   You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”
   “I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”
   “I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”
   “Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”
   You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.
   “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.
   “Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”
   “Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”
   You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”
   The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.
   Then his lips crashed against yours. 
   You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you. 
   “So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”
   His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning. 
   You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.
   Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.
   “Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.
   The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily. 
   Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands. 
  The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him. 
   You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts. 
   His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.
   Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.
   “I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.
   The light went off.
   You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,” 
   Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,” 
   He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.
   You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.
   “Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.
   “Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.
   The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line. 
   Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.
   “Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”
   You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God. 
   “Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”
  Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.
   “Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.
   Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area. 
   Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face. 
   A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.
   “Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”
   “That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.
   “But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”
   Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.
   You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t. 
   “Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”
   You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.
   You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears. 
   He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.
   But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.
   He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.
   Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours. 
   “Swallow,” he ordered.
   But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.
   “Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.
   He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard. 
   He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”
   You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold. 
   At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.
   “Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.
   You nodded again.
   “I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.
   “Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”
   Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.
   “This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.
   You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.
   You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”
   Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.
   He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.
   “Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.
   The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.
   “Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.
   He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.
   “Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.
   He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself. 
   So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.
   Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.
   “There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.
   Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.
   “Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.
   You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.
   When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.
   Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time. 
   You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.
   His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.
   Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.
   He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.
   Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”
   You chuckled, “Fuck me,”
   He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.
   “Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.
   You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body. 
   “Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.
   He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy. 
   He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him. 
   He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.
   “What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.
   At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.
   He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.
   “Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.
   A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”
   Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.
   He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.
   Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth. 
   You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.
   You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core. 
   “What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.
   You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch
   He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”
   You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.
   “Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.
   You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.
   “Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”
   “Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
   You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.
   “What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.
   You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”
   His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.
   “’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.
   “Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”
   You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.
   He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”
   Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.
   He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.
   He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.
   He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.
   You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.
   “I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”
   You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.
   He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.
   He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.
   “Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”
   He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.
   “Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”
   His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.
   You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?” 
   He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.
   “Then cum,” 
   He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.
   Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.
   He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind. 
   “Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”
   He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him. 
   You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word. 
   And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.
   Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.
   His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.
   “Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.
   He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-
   “Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”
   He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.
   You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”
   He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course. 
   After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
   “I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”
   He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.
   “I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”
   Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”
   You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after. 
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stargazingfangirl18 · 11 days ago
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Word Count: 6,714 Summary: Steve uses your greatest fear against you to get what he wants. Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Kidnapping. Aquaphobia (fear of water). Forced into a deprivation tank. Anxiety, stress, & panic attack. Minor violence/intimidation. Slight choking. Non con & dub con elements. Vaginal fingering. Oral sex (f receiving). Male masturbation. Unprotected sex. Cockwarming. Innocence kink. Praise kink. Loss of virginity. Lots of “good girl” usage. Slight bondage. Grooming undertones. Dom/sub tones. Manipulation and gaslighting. Angst. Mentions of suicidal thoughts. Soft!dark!Steve Rogers (hinging on dark!Steve Rogers) who is super delusional. Shy!Innocent!Virgin!Reader. AU. 18+ only! (I think I got all the warnings, please let me know if I missed any.)
A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @chelsea6 requested by her sweet friend @risenqueen-1521​. Happy birthday, beauty! 🥳🎈🎉❤️I’m posting this a day early because work schmork Mondays lol. Sending you all the love and well wishes on your special day. I hope you enjoy this! ❤️Also lots of love and gratitude to @river-soul​ for letting me spitball with you and screech at you about this story in DMs. ilu and your mean!Steve loving heart. Hope you enjoy this fruit loop 😘
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You jerked awake with a start.
Your eyes popped open and were met with complete and total darkness. Water sloshed around you, and you whimpered, already feeling tears brimming and streaking down your clammy cheeks as you tilted your head back and tried to calm your breathing.
But your inhales were short and shallow.
Frantic and panicked.
Just like the rest of you.
You had no idea how long you had been locked in the deprivation tank this time.
Time had ceased to exist in this hell that had somehow become your new reality.
And it was your own personal hell, tailored just for you.
You weren’t sure how he even discovered your aquaphobia--your extreme fear of water and drowning--but he had, and now he was using it against you to get what he wanted.
Your body. Your compliance. Your pleasure.
Your complete and total submission to him.
You had thought he was a hero, but you were wrong.
Steve Rogers wasn’t a hero at all, he was your own personal villain, and you knew there was no way you’d ever escape him.
The first time he took you out of the tank, you thought he was there to rescue you. But then he had started touching you, telling you this was your new home now, with him, forever, and you had lashed out, trying to escape.
So back in the tank you went.
It felt like that had been an eternity ago.
Yet here you were, your sanity hanging on by a worn, withered thread as you tried to stifle the sobs of terror and panic welling thick in your chest and filling your throat with the evidence of your horror.
You were going to die in here, in the way you had always feared most, and the reality had you weeping hard as you beat against the top of the tank, your wet, trembling hands uselessly sliding off of the top of your living tomb.
You weren’t sure how long you wept, and you hadn’t even realized you’d been gasping and chanting, “please,” over and over again, an unheard prayer to some higher deity that obviously had more important things to do than spare you any mercy, it seemed.
And yet someone did hear you.
He did.
When the tank opened with a hiss, and dim light from the single overhead light bulb in the reinforced basement flooded in, your next sob was one of relief.
Even as Steve Rogers’ beautiful face appeared above you.
“Are you ready to be good for me?” he asked. His voice was as hard as the look in his eyes as he stared down at you with a clenched jaw, a tic popping beneath his perfect skin.
The way you recoiled was instinctual, but when it submerged you deeper into the water around you, you whimpered, nodding frantically as you hiccuped a trembling “Y-yes,” and gripped the edge of the tank for dear life. “Please.”
The change that came across Steve’s features was as quick as it was terrifying--his ability to toggle between emotions without pause making him seem unhinged--as a pleased smile curled his plump pink lips and his eyes softened just a bit.
“That’s my girl,” he hummed, carefully helping you from the tank. “I knew you’d come around eventually. You just needed some time, huh?”
You didn’t respond, too distracted by the way your legs didn’t seem to work as you sagged against Steve, a tiny part of you grateful for his strength and the way his thick arms immediately circled you.
Despite the fact that you were naked and vulnerable, filthy too from days of living in the tank without reprieve, you clung to him, allowing yourself the small comfort of another for just a moment. Even if it was him.
Your deceptively cruel captor and tormentor.
“Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up, then we’ll have a nice dinner together,” Steve murmured, smoothing his hand over the back of your head. “How’s that sound?”
The silence stretched on between you, your trembling increasing, because you knew what he wanted. Your response. A token of your submission to him.
His own personal trophy, no matter how small and meaningless in the grand scheme of things.
“Good,” you quavered at last, feeling the last remaining dregs of your dignity wither away.
Because at this point?
You would do whatever it took to never see the inside of that tank again.
Even if whatever it took meant giving Steve exactly what he wanted.
“Thatta girl,” Steve cooed, and despite the revulsion wracking through you at his words--his manipulation--and the way his big hands wandered along your body like it was his, you still felt another wave of relief consume you as Steve led you toward the basement stairs and up, up, up and far away from your personal prison.
Your relief was short-lived; however, as a few moments later found you frozen in the doorway of the master ensuite. Your frightened eyes bounced between the large soaking tub in the corner and the enclosed shower that took up the back half of the room.
Before you could spiral out at the thought of more water touching you, Steve gently ushered you further into the bathroom.
“Please, I don’t want to,” you whispered, turning to him, your face panicked. “Please--”
“You have a choice,” he cut you off, hands falling to his hips as he watched you with a strange darkness glittering in his eyes. “Either you can take a bath, and I’ll wash you myself, or you can take a shower and I’ll join you.”
Your scream caught in your throat as Steve’s massive hand shot out and gripped your neck hard, so hard you couldn’t breathe and you whined as you frantically clawed at his hand.
Steve pulled you toward him, until your fingers were clawing at his shirt instead of his wrist.
“This is the last time I tell you I don’t like that word, and you’re not to use it with me.” His fingers tightened around your throat until black spots were dancing in your vision. “Nod if you understand.”
You nodded quickly, as much as you could around his iron-clad grip.
“Good girl,” Steve smirked, his hand falling away.
You flinched as his fingers gently touched your chin and pointed your tearful gaze toward the bath.
“Now pick. Bath or shower?”
After a long moment of inner turmoil, of trying your best to quell the rising horror, you croaked, “Shower.”
Steve hummed his satisfaction at your decision, leading you across the beautiful ensuite and toward the glass encased shower.
“I figured that would be your preference, so I made sure you had the nicest shower money could buy. Two waterfall showerheads, a built in bench, and it’s nice and big so you won’t feel closed in.”
Steve admired his handiwork for a moment before turning to you with an expectant grin.
You nodded, wringing your hands in front of you as you tried to put real, authentic gratitude in your voice when you said, “T-thank you, Steve, it’s beautiful.”
You squeaked as he reached for you, sweeping you up into his arms until you were oofing against his chest and staring up at him with frightened eyes.
“Only the best for my girl.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “That’s all I want for you, sweetheart. To take care of you, like you deserve.”
Part of you wished that was true. It was certainly better than the alternative - what you had already experienced at his hands.
But you couldn’t help but note the quiet vengeance that underlied so much of what Steve said and did to you.
You weren’t sure how or why you caught his attention as one of his many neighbors in the Brooklyn walkup you both had lived in. You were nothing special. You had always been quiet and kept to yourself, and you had tried to be respectful of him when you learned Captain America lived in your building, just down the hall.
Maybe that was what had drawn him to you - the fact that you didn’t gawk at him like everyone else did.
That you didn’t want anything to do with him at all?
Now that didn’t please him one bit.
He had tried to chat you up often, asked you out on dates, but you were just innately shy and intimidated by him. What did you have to offer or talk about to a literal superhero?
If you had known back then that spurning Steve and his advances--no matter how kindly you had done so--would lead to this, would lead you here, you would have gone on a dozen dates with him until he learned the truth about you…
That you one.
You were just you, in all your flawed and unremarkable glory.
“Hey, where’d you go?”
You blinked back to reality at Steve’s quiet voice, your eyes jumping up to his to find him watching you intently.
“I’m sorry, I’m just tired.”
You could see the disbelief flicker in his gaze, but he blessedly let it go. For now.
“Then let's get you cleaned up and that belly filled with food.” A different kind of darkness flooded Steve’s eyes as his lips curled at the corners and his voice lowered. “Then later I’ll fill that belly with something else.”
You wondered if Steve interpreted your shudder of disgust as a shiver of anticipation, or if he just didn’t care, because his responding laugh was wicked, his wink conspiratory, and then he was moving away and turning on the shower.
Soon steam was filling the space and you were pointedly looking away as Steve undressed. You didn’t resist when he ushered you into the shower, but you did try to shy away from him--the space was certainly big enough to do so--but Steve wouldn’t let you.
He corralled you close to him beneath one of the showerheads, making soft cooing noises of comfort at the way you stiffened as the water streamed down your body.
You felt the familiar dread fill your stomach like a lead weight, a cold sweat bursting on the surface of your skin despite the shower immediately rinsing it away.
I’m okay, you thought to yourself, closing your eyes and repeating the simple mantra over and over again like you did every single time you showered.
The words ran together in your mind as Steve cleaned you with his own hands, forgoing the fancy loofah hanging nearby so that he could have his fun while you silently suffered.
You stiffened further when his hands cupped your breasts, his hard chest pressing flush to your back as he held you against him and planted soft kisses down the column of your throat.
“Shhh, I can be nice. I can make this so good for you, sweetheart.”
His touch was gentle as his hand smoothed down your quivering belly, but it was still unwanted as his fingers teased the sensitive bundle of nerves that crowned your core. Your hand shot out and gripped his wrist before your mind could even process the small act of resistance and think better of it.
You felt Steve tense behind you, his lips finding your ear as he whispered, “Be. Good.” with the type of steel in his voice that had your touch immediately falling away from him. “There you go.”
When his fingers trailed along your slit for the first time, you jerked, a sharp gasp falling from your lips as you felt Steve smile against the hinge of your jaw.
“So responsive for me and I’ve barely touched you.” He nibbled on your earlobe. “Figured this sweet tempting body hasn’t had much attention, not with the way you try so hard to hide from the world.”
Steve’s fingers swirled against your clit, teasing circles that grew in pressure until you were whimpering and tilting your hips in response - your body a traitorous vessel overwhelmed by this kind of foreign attention.
“Tell the truth, sweetheart, have you ever let anyone else touch you like this?”
When Steve’s fingers dipped lower, easily sliding through the petals of your sex due to the arousal he was so expertly drawing from your unwilling body, you knew he knew the truth.
And you knew he’d make you admit it  out loud to him.
“Answer me,” he commanded, his fingers pressing against you more firmly, until you were keening and gripping his wrist, not to fight him off but for something to hold onto as unwanted pleasure began to simmer low and hot in your belly.
“N-no,” you quavered, jerking as Steve rewarded your reply with a few wicked circles around your clit.
And then his thick finger was pushing into your cunt, and he groaned--deep and primal--against your shoulder as he felt you from the inside for the first time.
“Fuck, honey, this cunt is so tight.” His finger drove deeper, stroking along your fluttering walls. “You feel like fucking velvet around my finger, sweetheart. Can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock.” His voice turned sly as he said, “But I’ll need to loosen you up for me to make that work.”
A second finger joined the first as your back bowed at the stretch and slight burn that came with it. Your own fingers had never felt like this, had never filled you up so much, had never been able to reach so deep, and curl, and rub and--
Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train--both unexpected and powerful--your knees buckling as your weak body rippled with pleasure.
Steve caught you with an arm around your stomach, his fingers working you through your release as he hummed his delight at your response to him--to his touch--against the crook of your neck.
His fingers were talented and insistent as they wrung another orgasm from you, and you whined at the visceral overwhelm. Your head was foggy with bliss that you couldn’t help but relish in because it had been so long since you felt anything other than terror and panic.
So you let yourself float away on the wave of your release, moaning as you felt the pleasure rush through you, until your toes and fingers were pleasantly tingling and you were panting and boneless as you sank back against Steve.
“So good for me, sweetheart,” he groaned. He rutted against you, pressing his erection against the small of your back.
It was thick, hot, and heavy, but you didn’t even have a moment to dwell on it before Steve was pushing you against the shower wall, turning you to face him, and dropping his forehead to yours.
In your periphery, you could see him take himself in hand, a moan falling from his lips as he crowded closer to you, until he could drag the head of his cock against your trembling belly.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Steve whispered, his eyes blown completely black with lust as he stared at you.
And then his gaze was dropping to where he was smearing the pre-cum dribbling from his tip against your skin. You shuddered at the feeling, squeezing your eyes shut as you braced your hands against the wall behind you, trying to stay still, trying not to recoil, trying not to make him angry.
“Look at me,” Steve snapped, his voice punctuated with a groan as the lewd sound of him jerking off echoed around you.
Your eyes fluttered open, and you swallowed as you got caught in his dark, lustful stare.
“That’s it.”
Steve’s hand moved faster as he rutted into his own touch, desperate to reach his peak.
“You have another choice,” he gritted, slamming his free hand against the wall beside your head and cocking his face until his nose gently knocked against yours. “You can get on your knees and let me paint that pretty face with my cum, or you can kiss me like you mean it.”
Tears blurred your vision at yet another cruel “choice.”
And yet, if you had to pick between the two…
You tilted your face back, a few tears falling as you closed your eyes and hesitantly brushed your lips against Steve’s.
An obscene groan fell from his lips and against your own, and suddenly his hand was cradling your face as his tongue swept into your mouth, mapping the hot cavern like his own personal terrain.
Steve kissed the very breath from your lungs, his plush lips and teasing tongue drawing your own mouth into a dance you didn’t even want to be a part of. And yet you found yourself kissing him back just as fervently, getting lost in the feel of him, the taste of him, another distraction from the constant fear that had suffocated you for days on end.
You swallowed Steve’s moan just as you felt the evidence of his pleasure shooting against your stomach in hot, sticky ribbons. He crushed his body against yours, his cock trapped against your belly as he rutted into your softness, more of his cum spilling over and tainting your body with his wicked delight.
Panting, Steve finally pulled away from the kiss, eyes fluttering open and gazing at you like you hung the fucking moon in his very own sky as he softly cradled your face with his big hand.
“You’ve been so good for me,” he whispered, pressing another soft, fleeting kiss to your lips. “See, I told you we could be happy together.”
His delusion struck you speechless, and you could only blink dumbly at Steve as he stole another kiss from your swollen, parted lips before stepping back and pulling you into the spray of water.
You didn’t resist as he washed his cum from your stomach, your watery gaze falling to the floor of the shower and watching as the remnants of Steve’s spend swirled down the drain and out of sight.
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You were numb throughout dinner, beyond exhausted on so many levels - mentally, emotionally, physically.
You felt like a shell of a person as you tried your best to eat the meal Steve had prepared for you himself--homemade soup and sandwiches--as he fished for compliments on his culinary skills while confessing all the things he couldn’t wait for you to do together - cook, watch movies, indulge in art, maybe learn how to dance.
“And one day, down the road, when I trust you, we can even go on a trip together. Maybe go to a farmer’s market or a fair. I could even take you to Coney Island, I loved it there when I was a kid--”
The way he dropped it so casually, maybe one day letting you outside of your new prison again, back into the world--like it was a treat instead of your god given right--had your question falling from your lips before you could suppress it.
“You’re never going to let me go, are you?”
Steve blinked at you, quiet for a beat, that strange, steely darkness flickering in his eyes as he replied, “Never.”
Your quiet sob erupted without your permission, and you dropped your face into your hands as you wept.
It roared back with a vengeance then, all of your fear, panic, and disbelief, stronger than before, your body constricting with the rise of it, the force of it. You could barely catch your breath as your chest seized and you clutched at it as you tearfully gazed at Steve.
“A-are you going to kill me?” Your voice broke as more tears spilled over and you realized in that moment that as much as you had wished for the end down in the darkness and terror of the deprivation tank, you didn’t want to die.
You didn’t want to die.
“Sweetheart, no,” Steve sighed, pushing away from the table and crouching beside you. He took your trembling hands in his, kissing along your knuckles as he stared up at you. You could have sworn you saw a glimmer of guilt in his gaze, but it was gone just as quickly as a kind of patient authority took its place. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That’s why you’re here.”
“But I don't want to spend my life with you! I don’t even know you, Steve!”
“You’ll get to know me, you’ll come to love me like I love you--”
“How can you love me?” you challenged hysterically, your eyes frantically jumping between his. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know everything about you,” Steve snapped, his eyes flashing in a way that had you shrinking back in your seat and cowering as you blinked back more tears. “Everything. And I also know that you’re gonna be on your best behavior for me, because you know what happens when you’re not and how I’ll need to punish you.”
You shuddered at the thought of the deprivation tank.
“N-no.” You broke down in more tears at the thought of going back in the dark, lonely depths of the water. “Please. Don’t. Don’t make me go down there. I c-can’t.”
Steve shushed you as he reached for you, pulling you against his chest, comforting you despite being the source of your terror and anguish.
It was a certain kind of mindfuck, and your head was spinning, so desperate for comfort, to be safe and taken care of, and yet…
You were here, in this predicament, because of Steve.
“Come on, you’re exhausted, sweetheart. Let’s get settled and tuck in for the night.”
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Steve swiped a few tissues from the box on the counter and handed them to you, smoothing a hand over your head as you trembled in your seat, drying your tears as he quickly cleaned up the remnants of your dinner.
Next thing you knew, you were back in Steve’s bedroom - your shared room, he’d insisted as you had shyly lingered in the doorway before he caught your hand and tugged you inside.
You sat ramrod straight against the headboard, avoiding looking at Steve, although unable to help it as you caught flashes of his perfect body and golden skin as he undressed until he was down to his boxer briefs.
You twisted your fingers in the material of the t-shirt he had given you to wear. It was the only clothing he had allowed you since you’d been here, and it hardly gave you the modesty--the cover or protection--you so desperately wanted.
Especially as Steve slid into bed beside you.
He spared no space between you, his lips already pressing kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, and down your neck. When he shoved the covers away, his hand falling to your bare thigh, and you went rigid, Steve sighed against your clavicle.
“This is happening, whether you want it or not, but personally,” he drawled, dragging his lips back up your neck, along your cheek, pressing a lingering kiss there before he was whispering against your ear, “I really wanna make you want it, and like it, sweetheart. So be good for me, or you can spend the night in the same place you did last night, and the night before that.” Steve kissed your temple. “And the night before that.”
His hand was gentle on your face as he turned your terrified gaze to his. He thumbed away your tears, his touch gliding along your trembling bottom lip.
“That’s your choice. Here with me, or the tank. Decide.”
The frightened wail that crawled it’s way up your throat was an inhuman thing, and you shuddered, quietly crying as you pulled your knees to your chest, buried your face away to hide, and wept.
Steve gave you a moment before he was forcing your head up until your wet gaze met his, his fingers hard on your chin--and his eyes even harder--as he hissed, “Decide.”
“H-here...with you,” you trembled as a few more tears spilled over.
His triumphant grin was a wicked thing, white teeth flashing as he pounced on you. Before you could blink, Steve had you pressed back against the mattress, his big body crushing you beneath him as he shoved his way between your legs and took your mouth in a feral kiss.
Steve’s kiss was hard and demanding, the type of intimate act that spoke more of ownership than desire, and you knew he could taste the salt of your tears as he ravaged your mouth with his.
He didn’t pull away until you were both gasping for breath, his hands quick to work your shirt up and over your head until he could gaze down at your bare body.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Steve hummed, dipping his head to kiss along your breast.
You shuddered as he drew your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and then soothing the bite of pain with his tongue before he was pulling away with a wet, salacious pop and doing the same thing all over again on the other side of your chest.
A new kind of overwhelm swept through you, reminiscent of your experience in the shower, when Steve had touched you and forced pleasure from your body. Fear and distress still swirled heavy in the pit of your stomach, but there was another sensation pushing its way to the surface.
Shameful, traitorous desire.
A few tears escaped your brimming eyes as you gasped and jerked as Steve slowly kissed his way down your stomach. You tried to press your thighs together, to hide the way you could feel your cunt weeping for him, to hide from him and his wicked intention, but you were powerless to do so with Steve’s big body taking up residence between your legs.
When his mouth reached your lower belly, you whined, sagging back against the bed as you fisted the sheets beside you, resigned to your fate.
To your ruin.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” Steve murmured, his voice warm and tinged with reverence, and hunger. “All slick and begging for me.”
You jolted when Steve’s fingers drew along the cut of you, but when his tongue lapped along your cunt for the first time--drawing a broad, firm stroke up from your quivering entrance to your sensitive clit--a ragged, wordless cry was ripped from your throat.
He hummed his delight as you spasmed beneath him, your hands scrabbling to shove him away. Sighing his disappointment, Steve rose up over you, gathering your wrists in one hand and easily pinning them above your head as he dug along the headboard with the other.
You craned your neck, eyes widening as he pulled some sort of strap from the depths of the headboard. Before you realized what was happening, he secured both of your wrists above your head.
Steve’s smirk was dark and smug as you looked at him in a sweet mixture of shock and betrayal. Tweaking your nose, he stole a kiss from your parted lips before resuming his place between your legs.
“Now you can’t interrupt my fun.” His big hands slid along your inner thighs and spread you open for him. “But soon you won’t want to, sweetheart, I promise. I’m gonna make your body fucking sing for me.”
And without any more warning than that, Steve descended on the glistening treasure at the core of you and feasted on your cunt like it was his very own five course meal.
You hated yourself when the first needy moan fell from your lips, and even more so when you tilted your hips in invitation, desperate for Steve to tongue at your clenching hole again.
When he did just that, chuckling at your enthusiasm, and the vibrations of his smug amusement shook through you--devastating you and winding you up even more--you just didn’t care anymore.
You sank back against the mattress in supplication, biting your bottom lip as Steve dragged his tongue along the weeping mess between your legs in another slow, purposeful stroke. And when he drew your swollen clit between his slick-stained lips and sucked, his name fell from your lips like the prettiest plea he had ever heard.
“Fuck, that’s it, honey, give in to me,” Steve groaned, gazing up the length of you, admiring the sheen of sweat gathering on your skin as you writhed for him. “Give me everything.”
He tugged back the hood of your clit, watching you through half-mast lids as he lapped at the point of your pleasure. When he pushed two fingers into your weeping cunt, and your back bowed for him, he grunted, going at you harder--mercilessly--until you were cumming around his fingers so hard you sobbed his name, your pleasure flooding down his wrist as he fucked you through your release.  
Steve dropped a kiss to your clit before rising to his knees and shirking off his boxer briefs. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you trembled with aftershocks, your eyes heavy and glassy as your delicate throat jumped on a nervous swallow as you finally caught sight of the hard length of him.
Taking his cock in hand, Steve shifted closer, his free hand dropping to your belly, his thumb tweaking your clit.
“Bet you’re desperate for it, huh?” His voice was smoky with lust. “Not quite sure what you want, just knowing you want more.”
A shiver zipped up your spine, rattling you from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, because Steve was right.
Despite everything that had brought you here, everything he had done to you, you wanted it. Wanted more. Wanted him.
You wanted to feel good.
You wanted it so bad your eyes filled with a fresh onslaught of tears as you met Steve’s dark, knowing gaze.
“Tell me you want it,” he husked, dragging the weeping head of his cock along your messy folds. “And I’ll make it so good for you, sweetheart, I promise.”
You swallowed, your body going haywire as Steve pressed his cock against you again--more firmly this time--lubing himself up with the copious amounts of arousal your needy body was leaking for him. When his thumb circled your clit again, you broke.
“Please, I-I want it,” you gasped.
Smirking, Steve stretched out over you, dropping low until you could feel the massive weight of him and the furnace-like heat he threw off that had you shivering.
“Tell me you want me,” he murmured against your lips, his hand working between your bodies until his cock was catching against your entrance and making you mewl.
“I want you, Steve,” your words trembled against his lips, and the taste of your complete and utter submission had Steve groaning as he kissed you hard.
And then he was pulling away, gazing at you intently as he shifted, his thumb teasing your clit as he slowly pushed inside of you for the first time. When your features twisted in pain just as he hit that resistance, Steve rutted into you hard, until he was filling you to the hilt and you were tossing your head back with a pained cry.
“Shhh, you’re doing so well for me, sweet girl,” Steve praised, going still and giving you time to adjust to him as he cradled your face between his hands and peppered your warm, tear-stained skin with soft kisses. “That’s the worst of it, I promise. It’ll feel so good soon, you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”
“It hurts,” you whimpered, tugging against the strap that binded your wrists as you whined at the feeling of being so stretched--so full--for the first time ever. “Steve--”
He kissed away your complaints, lips patiently, thoroughly working against yours, until you were melting back against the bed, boneless for him, too mindless to realize the way Steve was gently rocking his hips and loosening you up for him.
At the first real retreat and plunge of his cock, you gasped, feeling a new kind of electricity light up your body as you squirmed and mewled at the unfamiliar feeling.
“There you go,” Steve cooed.
He fucked into you slow and deep, watching the way your mouth dropped open and your eyes screwed shut as each new drive and drag of his cock had your initial pain fading as something new and needy and wanting took its place.
“You feel so good,” Steve panted against your neck, burying his face against your warm, soft skin as he drove into you harder. “Knew you would. Been wanting you for so long,” he grunted, spearing into you hard and lingering as he rubbed your clit with his fingers.
“Oh, god!” you keened, back bowing as the dual sensations had your body buzzing with the kind of deep, carnal greed that was completely new to you. “Please!”
You whined your disappointment when Steve pulled out of you, and he chuckled, his voice teasing as he asked, “You wanna cum?”
You nodded frantically, lost to your quest for more--for completion--driven senseless by it, by Steve.
“Fuck,” he groaned, grabbing your legs and pushing them up and back, until your knees were nearly at your ears and you were on obscene display for him. “This is how I always want you,” he breathed, lining himself up before thrusting into you hard.
Your cry was more of a sob as his cock hit deeper than before, sinking into you so completely that you knew that he was a part of you now--and always would be--but you didn’t even have time to dwell on it as he began to fuck you with abandon.
“I always want you desperate for me and split open on my cock,” Steve grunted, hips relentless as they slammed against your ass without reprieve.
He stared down at the spot where he sank into you over and over again, mesmerized by the sight of your pretty, swollen pussy greedily sucking his cock back in, your creamy slick oozing out around him and making a mess of you both.
With every new plunge of Steve’s cock within the deepest depths of your body, you climbed closer and closer to the height of your pleasure, that desperate coil twisting impossibly tight in the center of you as you whined and mewled and begged Steve to make you cum.
Another particularly feral rut of his hips as his thumb tortured your clit had that coil deep in your center snapping, and it was like you suddenly burst apart into a million tiny pieces of ecstasy.
Your body shook and trembled, going taut with your release, and Steve moaned at the feel of your already blissfully tight pussy clamping around him hard.
“Aw fuck,” he hissed, head thrown back as he basked in the feel of you losing it--for him--completely.
You were still floating in the clouds of your pleasure as Steve dropped your legs, grabbed your hips with his big hands, and pounded into you like a man possessed.
The snarls and grunts that rained from his lips as he sought his pleasure within your body were animalistic, and something about that--his complete loss of control, at being so affected, by you--had you cumming all over again.
Steve’s gasp of surprise was sharp as you pulsed and squeezed around him like a sinful vice. He came with a shout, curling over you, hand planted on the mattress beside your head as he drove into you deep and with the kind of force that had your body jerking up the bed.
You moaned at the foreign feeling of his pleasure flooding the deepest parts of you in a hot, thick rush. Another retreat and pump of Steve’s hips had more of his cum filling you up, and then another, until he was burying his cock within you a final time, as far as it would go.
As Steve sank against you with a throaty groan and tucked his face against the curve of your shoulder, you could feel the way your cunt fluttered around him, the way the combination of your releases leaked out around the base of him and pooled on the sheets beneath you.
You were too exhausted to complain as Steve laid against you for a long while, a small, distant part of you enjoying the way he pressed gentle kisses against your neck as his hands cradled your head.
It was when you shifted and tugged on your sore, still bound arms that a pained whine erupted from you, and Steve’s head shot up, his eyes filled with the kind of concern that genuinely surprised you, after everything.
“What is it?”
“I-I’m sorry,” you trembled, afraid to stoke his temper. “It’s just, my arms…they hurt.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Steve gave you an abashed smile as he quickly unbound your wrists.
He was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed the feeling back into your arms, kissing along your chafed wrists before resuming his place on top of you and nuzzling your nose with his.
You didn’t turn away when he kissed you, slow and languid, humming at the taste of you before he pulled away and gently drew his knuckles down your cheek.
“Did I make you feel good?” he asked.
There was a kind of hopefulness shining in his gaze that had you shyly admitting the truth with a small nod. “Yes.”
Steve’s smile was bright and beautiful and you decided you liked it much more than that mean smirk you had grown accustomed to over the past few days.
“You certainly returned the favor, sweetheart,” he teased, ducking close for another lingering kiss. “I could spend all day with you warming my cock like this.”
You squeaked as Steve turned suddenly, pulling you with him as he settled onto his back and rearranged you on top of him. Even though he was soft now, he was still a lot, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you squirmed against him.
Steve’s smile was smug, but not mean, as he tipped your face up to his with a finger beneath your chin. “Might as well get used to the stretch of me, honey. But I promise I’ll clean you up and get some water in you...eventually.”
He gave a rock of his hips and your eyes widened as you felt him growing hard again inside of you.
“Oh,” you breathed, your fingers digging into Steve’s bare chest as you felt that unfamiliar but addictive heat stirring to life in your belly once more.
“Don’t tell me you already want me again?” Steve teased, but he looked ridiculously happy at the thought, especially when you shyly ducked your gaze and hid your face against his chest.
Laughing, he smoothed a hand up your bare back. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you were such a good girl for me that you deserve a reward.”
You shivered as Steve’s hands cupped your hips and he held you against him as he drove up into you, making you moan and clench around him.
“I could reward you all day long,” Steve breathed, giving another lazy rock of his hips and groaning at the way you squeezed around him in response, in greedy desperation. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good to me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Steve,” you replied quietly, your eyes screwing shut as Steve began to thrust up into you with a steady rhythm now, filling you more than before in this position--deeper too--and making you quake and moan and breathe out a quiet chant of, “Yes, yes, yes!”
“Good girl,” Steve sighed in bliss, his arms wrapping around you tight as he planted his feet on the mattress and began to rut up into you harder--faster--until you were both panting and moaning and racing each other to the finish line.
And you let yourself get lost in it--in Steve--allowing the pleasure, the neediness, the reward for giving him what he wanted sweep you away and make you feel good.
Because distantly, quietly, that warning voice reminded you of what happened when you were bad, of the punishment that awaited you in the basement.
And if you had to decide between this--blissful ruin at the hands and cock of Steve Rogers--or wasting away in that awful tank, you would choose this.
Every. Single. Time.
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I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary​ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome though!❤️ 
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kdottp · 14 days ago
The Salesman | Squid game - Salesman (Gong Yoo) x reader
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Word count: 3777
Request: None lol I’m just down bad for this guy 
Summary: A handsome salesman offers the opportunity to win money by playing a simple game of ddakji with him, but when you lose your punishment turns out to be more pleasurable than you’d imagine.
Warnings: This is a NSFW (smut) fic. do not interact if you are under 18.
Read Part 2 Here!
This is the first fic I’ve written in a while. My blog was strictly DBH and I’ll still write for that game, however I have new interests *Cough* Gong Yoo *Cough* and I don’t want to make a whole new blog just to post this on. 
ALSO THIS IS THE FIRST SMUT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN. It’s rushed and needs improvement, but I’m sure I’ll get better with practice :’)
You’re completely and utterly fucked. When you had taken out a loan you had not expected to be fired from your job. And here you were, jobless and in a shit ton of debt with the bank. Since you were fired you had done plenty of small jobs here and there to keep you on your feet, but nothing was enough to pay back the money you had borrowed, only enough to feed yourself and use public transport to get yourself home.
Just as you were getting your life together, everything seemed to fall apart right in front of you. You sold your car and many of your belongings to keep your head above water, but times were tough for you now. Usually on a Friday night like this one you were out with friends, eating at one of your favourite restaurants and drinking until you couldn’t see straight. But tonight, you said no to your friends and opted to sit outside a local convenience store you often visited and treated yourself to some cheap ramen to cheer yourself up. Never did you think you’d be this much in debt, and it was eating you alive.
You lazily poked at your ramen. Your sadness made you lose your appetite a while ago and you didn’t have the will to go home and face reality again just yet. You were so deep in thought you didn’t notice a man approach you. He cleared his throat and you jumped, startled by the unexpected company.
“I’m sorry miss, I didn’t mean to startle you” The man offered an apologetic smile. “I was wondering if this seat here isn’t taken, may I join you?” He looked out of place at this run-down convenience store. He wore what looked to be a very expensive grey tailored suit that made his figure look dreamy. His face was shaven, and he held a black briefcase in one hand, while the other held a drink he must have bought from the store. This man looked way too expensive to be from around here. From the outfit alone you guessed he was some sort of salesman.
You nod and offer a shy smile. “Of course,” Is all you say before focusing your attention back to your now lukewarm food. From the corner of your eye, you observe the mysterious man. He was a bit older than you and handsome no doubt. You couldn’t help but wonder what a man like him was doing here. Surely, he didn’t live near here.
“May I talk to you, miss?” The salesman asked you.
“Uh, yeah sure?” You slowly nodded. Small talk you assume. It wasn’t like you had anywhere else to be tonight, you figured small talk with a handsome older man would be a great little escape for now. He smiles brightly at you and places his briefcase on the small plastic table between you.
“Would you like to play a game?”
What the fuck? What was this man getting at? You looked at him confused and scoff.
“A game? If this is some weird sales pitch you’ve asked the wrong person”. His smile never left his face as he unlatched the briefcase and opened it in front if you. Inside were ddakji tiles and a fuck ton of money. Enough money to help you cover your debt. Now you were interested. “Y-you wanna play ddakji?”
The salesman nodded and picked up the tiles.
“Play a few rounds with me” he said. “Each time you win. I’ll pay you 100,000 won.”
Your mind was racing. Winning a couple rounds of ddakji wouldn’t pay off your debt but it’d sure as hell give you a head start. It would also feed you for a couple days and may even cover your bills if you won enough rounds. You eagerly nod your head which seemed to please him.
 “Great. Shall we move to the alleyway for a more privacy?” He suggested and you eagerly stand without a second thought. “I’ll take your eagerness as a yes” The handsome salesman chuckled at you, and you felt a blush form over your cheeks. Embarrassed, you moved a little slower to the alleyway next to the store and watch as he places the briefcase down with care.
“So, Red or Blue?” your eyes darted between the tiles between his fingers.
“Blue” you chose, and he handed you the blue tile. He placed his red tile on the ground and gestured for you to play first. Taking a deep breath, you concentrated on the red tile on the ground and swung your blue tile towards it. The tile hit but didn’t manage to flip it over.
Once again, he gave you that same cheery smile and stepped forward to pick up his tile. You watched as he threw his tile down with great force, flipping your tile with ease. He won. It was then you realised you hadn’t asked what happens if you lost.
“So uh, what happens when I lose?”
“You pay me the same amount”
You almost choked. 100,000 won? You didn’t have that much on you let alone in your bank account. A sheepish smile formed on your face at his words, and you watched as his smiled dropped slightly.
“Do you not have any money on you, miss?” Oh, you were embarrassed. Yet another person you were in debt to. How foolish of you to play a game and not even ask about the consequences of losing.
“I’m sorry sir. I don’t have that kind of money. I promise to pay you back when I can”. The salesman shook his head and walked towards you. You felt a warm hand cup your cheek and your heart was racing. He stood close to you, so close you could smell the cologne he was wearing. It was intoxicating, incredibly addictive. The close proximity mixed with the seductive smell of his cologne and the warm hand on your cheek was driving you crazy.
“There’s no need to apologise miss” He smiled down at you. God he was tall. “You can pay me with your body instead”
What did he say? Pay him back with your—
The hand that previously cupped your cheek suddenly slapped you, catching you off guard causing you to stumble backwards. You held your cheek, shocked at what happened. It stung like a bitch and oh, you loved it. It’d had been a while since well, you’ve had any sort of action and the slap he just gave you really did something.
“For every slap I’ll take of 100,000 won” The salesman said simply. If this is what he meant maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all. You looked up and smiled at him.
And so you played again and kept playing losing each time. And each time just like he had promised, you received a slap for each time you lost. This continued for several minutes. Throwing the ddakji tiles and watching as he once again won. With each slap you felt yourself getting more and more aroused. Suddenly it wasn’t about the money anymore, each slap brought you closer to euphoria and made you forget about the horrible situation you currently found yourself in.
It was round 16 now. You had lost 16 times and so, like every time before the salesman stepped forward and slapped your cheek. Hard. His smile had never faulted, not once during this game. That was of course until he looked into your eyes. He watched as you recouped yourself, caressing your sore cheek and bending down to reach for your tile. As you stood up though, you looked at him through your lashes. That’s when he saw, bedroom eyes. Full of lust and desire.
You were enjoying this.
No one has ever enjoyed this before, not like you were. He was used to angry reactions, people getting up to scream at his face. Others even cried, giving up before they had a chance to win. You on the other hand, were having the time of your life and that look on your face was doing things to him.
He watched as you attempted to flip his tile, but this time he noticed you didn’t put as much effort into it as you were before. When you first started playing you had put your all into it. Using as much force as you possibly could to flip his tile. Now, you half-heartedly threw your tile on the ground and smiled as you failed to flip his over. It was his turn now. He flipped your tile with ease, and you looked at him expectantly. Your lips were parted, and your eyes were blown out. The salesman watched as you breathed heavily, eager to receive your punishment.
You swear you stopped breathing. This slap was different to the last ones. This was hard, so hard in fact you felt your eyes swell up with tears and you were loving it. Suddenly, you feel his hand grab your chin. He forced you to look at him, his cheerful smile had turned into a devious smirk and his hand gripped your chin as hard as he could.
“Let’s make this a bit more interesting, shall we?” His eyes had a mischievous gleam in them, and his smirk grew wider. “If you win the next round, you get ten times what I originally offered” Your heart was racing. A million won? That was enough to cover bills and food for a while, you could use any other money you earned to pay towards your debt. It’d be huge for you!
“And if I lose?”
“I get to hit you ten times”.
You smiled. Really it was a win-win situation for you. Either you walk away with 1 million won in your pocket or you get to be slapped and humiliated by this handsome man.
“Deal” You felt his grip on your chin loosen and he stepped back to let you pick up your tile. As much as you enjoyed being slapped around, the money you could potentially win would benefit you greatly. You mustered whatever strength you had and threw your tile down, but just like every other time you failed to flip the salesman’s tile. You felt a little defeated, you really could have used that money, but the punishment isn’t the worst. You should feel ashamed for enjoying this as much as you were, but with how your life was going this was the best thing that could have happened to you. The humiliation you felt letting a stranger slap the shit out of you was thrilling and you were thriving off it. Just like before you watched as he threw his tile to the floor and flipped yours with ease. You tried to hide your grin as he stepped towards you, and you closed your eyes bracing yourself for the slaps… but they never came. You opened your eyes and met his. He no longer wore a smile on his face. He looked down at you with stern eyes and the sudden change of expression frightened you in the best way possible.
“Turn around, hands on the wall” Is all he said. Confused, you shot him a questioning look but obliged and did as he told you. You turned around and placed your hand on the brick wall behind you. The brick was rough and cold on your hands. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat as you waited in anticipation for whatever he was doing. You opened your mouth to ask him when suddenly.
His hand came down, spanking your arse. You yelped out in surprise. Somehow you had not expected him to spank you, but you weren’t going to complain.
“I said I get to hit you 10 times. I never specified where” Is all he said before his hand spanked you again. You bit your lip to stay quiet, after all, there was a convenient store right next to you. Anyone could be sitting outside hearing the commotion happening in the alleyway just next door. The thought of getting caught excited you as you felt another harsh spank to your arse.
“That’s three” he said. Before you could fully register what he was doing, he pulled your panties down to your ankles, lifted your skirt up and spanked you again. “Four”.
You were in heaven. The thrill of getting caught mixed with the sensation of his spanks and the humiliation of being ruined in such a public space was overbearing. You wanted him to ruin you here and now. You wanted more than slaps and spanks. You wanted him.
“That’s five. You’re doing so well” He spoke softly in your ear. “You can take five more, can’t you?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer as his hand met your arse once again. You bit your tongue again to keep yourself from moaning and held back tears as he continued out the rest of your punishment. By the tenth your legs were shaking, and you could feel how wet he had made you just from spanking you. You rest your head against the wall and tried to catch your breath. As you did, you felt him lift your ankles, making you step out of your panties and pocketed them in his blazer.
“Shall we play one more round?” His kind smile returned as if that had just not happened. You were so flustered you couldn’t utter a word, but you weren’t going to let this end here, so you simply nodded. “Good. If you win. I’ll give you everything in this suitcase. If I win, you can pay me back with your body”. This time was much different than the first time he said you could pay him back with your body. His eyes were now full of lust and his breathing had become much heavier. You knew what he meant by your body this time and right now, that sounded much better than the money in that briefcase.
“You go first” you say. He gives you a look but doesn’t object. Like you had suspected he flipped your tile with ease. You give him a smile and pick up your tile. This time however, when you go to hit his you threw a pathetically weak shot and completely missed the tile. Looks like you lost again. How unfortunate. You looked up at him with innocent eyes and offered a sweet smile.
“Oops” you fake pout and took a step towards him. “So how shall I pay you back?” you ask as you try your best to sound naïve, but he wasn’t falling for it. He storms towards you, pushing you against the brick wall with so much force it almost knocked the wind out of you.
“You’ll pay me back with your body” He said before smashing his lips into yours. He tasted so sweet, and you couldn’t get enough. You hungrily kissed him back, earning a sweet moan from him. Your hands snaked their way into his hair, running through it as your mouths continued to kiss. You felt a hand slide up your thigh, edging closer and closer to your pussy. His fingers drew soft circles on your inner thigh and you were desperate for his fingers to finally touch you where you so desperately wanted, but it never happened. He continued to tease you until you were at your breaking point.
“S-stop being a tease” you managed to say in between kisses. “I can’t stand it”
“Then beg”. He was going to make you beg? Was touching you out in public, not humiliating enough? That being said, you were so needy and desperate you weren’t going to argue.
“Please sir, I need you to touch me. Please touch me” You begged in a whisper. This seemed to be enough to please him as merely seconds later you felt his fingers rubbing your clit. Your head rolled back as a wave of pleasure took over your body.
“You’ll pay be back by cumming for me twice. You understand?” His voice was stern and demanding. All you could do was moan and nod in response as his fingers continued to pleasure you. “Good girl”. His fingers on your pussy stopped and you let out a whine as the sensation disappeared. You felt those same fingers reach for the hem of your skirt, pulling it down to the ground leaving you exposed to the cold air. The salesman then knelt, and you felt his tongue where his fingers once were. That wave of pleasure hit once more as he used his tongue to lick and suck your clit. God he was good, and that familiar knot in your stomach let you know you were definitely cumming soon. Just as you thought you couldn’t feel any better you felt two fingers enter your pussy and you let out a moan. You couldn’t help it; this man was making you feel pleasure like you had never felt before. Hearing you moan must have turned him on. As soon as he heard the moan escape your lips his pace quickened. His mouth and tongue moved faster, and he inserted a third finger into your pussy. You were at your breaking point.
You looked down at him and met his eyes. He was watching you, observing how you reacted to him. His pupils were big and his eyelids droopy. You thought he looked so sexy looking up at you as he pleasured you. You grabbed a fist full of his hair in your hand and held on tight.
“Sir I’m- I’m gonna cum”
“I know, you’re doing so well” he praised. His praised tipped you over the edge and you came on his face, grinding against his tongue as your rode out your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy and stood back up. He brought his fingers, dripping in your cum up to his lips and sucked them clean all while maintaining eye contact with you.
Fucking pervert.
He didn’t give you long to recover, cause before you knew it his pants were down and he was positioning himself at your entrance. He lifted your right leg to gain easier access to your pussy and leaned closer to your face. That smirk was again back on his lips as he spoke. “You still owe me one more orgasm”. And with that he pushed his cock inside of you. He muffled your moan with his free hand and began thrusting himself into you. Your back was pushed further against the wall and his body was flush against yours. His cock stretched you out in the best possible way it was hard to stay quiet. He on the other hand had no intentions on staying quiet. His eyes were shut tight and his free arm was wrapped around your torso. He let out a load moan and it was heaven to your ears. He sounded so beautiful you’d want to hear more if it weren’t for the location you were in. The alleyway was now filled with heavy breathing and the sound of skin hitting skin. It wasn’t long until you felt that same knot in your stomach, and while you were sad you were about to cum so fast you wanted nothing more than to cum on his cock.
“Again Sir. I’m cumming again”
And with that your back arched and the pleasure of your orgasm took over. The salesman did not slow down during your orgasm, he continued to fuck you rough and hard, and you felt weak. Once you rode out your second orgasm, he pulled out of you and pushed you onto your knees. Again, without letting you catch your breath he pulled your head towards his cock, covered in your cum. Pushing the head of his cock to your lips, he commanded you to open wide and began to fuck your mouth. You could taste your cum on his cock as you pleasured him with your mouth. It was filthy and you enjoyed every second of it. You looked up at him in awe, watching him thrust into your mouth with his head thrown back and eyes shut. It was long until it was his turn to cum. He gave you no warning before you tasted his cum on your tongue.
“Don’t swallow. Open your mouth”. You did as he asked, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him the mess he had made inside your mouth. “Good girl. Now swallow it” and you did. He smiled at you as you did, he looked so proud it made your heart warm.
He helped you stand up and out your skirt back on, though he never gave you your panties back. He tucked himself into his pants and as he did, he felt the card in his pocket. The card he was supposed to give you to join the game. He felt his heart drop as he hesitated to pull the card out.
Could he really send you to your potential death after all that? The thought made him sick. It shouldn’t. This was his job after all, to recruit people, play a silly game and ask them to meet their end for the chance to earn billions. But tonight was different, far different than anything he’s done with the others. You noticed his change in demeanor and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Is everything alright sir?” You asked so kindly. He looked into your eyes and sighed. He couldn’t.
He walked towards the briefcase and handed it to you. He watched as your eyes lit up with excitement and his chest felt warm.
“Congratulations. You’ve earnt it”
You couldn’t believe your luck. You let out a quick thank you and opened the case. It was stacked with cash. Surely this would be enough to pay your debt in full. There might even be enough to cover your expenses for the next few months while you look for a new job. You were overjoyed and incredibly thankful for the handsome man who had just fucked you into heaven. You went to thank him once more, but he had left. You didn’t notice him leave the alleyway. You ran out, hoping to catch him before he could get too far but he was no where in sight.
You didn’t even get his name. How could you thank him properly? How could you see him again? Your heart sank a little, but you were still incredibly thankful for the salesman.
“I hope I find you again soon, handsome salesman”
Idk if anyone will read this but yes, I have a part 2 planned :)
Edit: Part 2 has been posted! Link is before the start of the fic <3
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snappleapple · 8 months ago
their favorite types of kisses
people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity
the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written
warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)
word count - 2k
a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!
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dream -
i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses
he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height
“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”
ends up with you not giving him his kiss
and mans becomes SO pouty
“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(
if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny
“why won’t you KISS ME!”
clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty
slamming the door to your room
so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants
his face is slammed into your pillow
you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair
leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes
“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”
will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him
taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses
when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses
does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you
in other words, clingy but rude hoe
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george -
george is a classic romantic
he loves just lip kisses
pecks or lingering ones
he doesn’t care
mans don’t need too many kisses
nor does he need to be too clingy
total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*
if he wants a kiss,
he will come over to you and get it
doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy
just waits patiently
doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing
when you’re watching a movie with him,
he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile
and listen to your every criticism of the movie
he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it
and you’re just not surprised anymore
just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk
overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection
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sapnap -
sapnap just vibes with neck kisses
it tickles his neck and he loves them
giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red
“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word
but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world
“i was joking.” :(
when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you
would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss
just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses
very amusing for you
and you love to tease him
“i don’t want to give you kissies.”
continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies
lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe
you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap
sadnap :(
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wilbur -
wilbur, wilbur, wilbur
what can i even say
total nose kiss guy
i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven
asks stupid questions just to get your attention
“yes wilbur?”
“is a hotdog a sandwich?”
“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”
if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack
he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose
not too clingy but not too distant
likes to be just right with you
if its snowy outside and your noses get red
makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph
just a lot of smooches from wilby
takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city
and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration
if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is
substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone
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punz -
i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go
punz loves hand kisses
not to an extent where he has a hand fetish
god no but just like
when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss
lots of hand holding
and i mean lots
constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much
likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up
also likes to compare hand sizes with you
always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you
even when you go on dates, always holding hands
no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on
sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go
“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”
would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his
he would also love it when you would kiss his hand
makes him feel all polite and precious LOL
would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together
he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY
shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you
afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,
your hand
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c!jschlatt -
jschlatt is a whole mess
the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots
now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable
doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes
“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”
also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you
when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,
you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course
he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to
is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved
likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”
gets SUPER jealous when you hug children
like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you
and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder
gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him
his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute
when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead
pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it
“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”
“you only love me for my kisses?” :(
actually feels slightly bad
“and because of your personality.”
“thank you-“
“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”
in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish
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awesamdude -
sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses
not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture
sam is all about sweetness
i mean have you even seen this man on his stream
he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends
not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way
cause man does he love you
i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does
and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love
“i love you sam!”
“no i love you more y/n!”
“NO i LOVE you more!”
“NO i LOVE you MORE!”
“okay thank you sweet pea.”
leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love
when you cuddle, omg
he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy
when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)
sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system
a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them
you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere
hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him
just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love
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quackity -
mans cannot leave you tf alone
likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you
“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or
“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you
messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane
plays horror games at two in the morning for fun
and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms
“mi amor. i’m scared.”
“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”
“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck
loves you so deeply but HATES your cat
“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”
your cat also HATES alex
scratches him all the time and hisses at him
if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex
“y/n he bit me!”
when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch
“kiss my boo boo.”
“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”
gasps as if you offended him
“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”
this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses
istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches
in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n
always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you
even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex
alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)
8K notes · View notes
devildomsgod · a month ago
Obey Me!: giving them a custom collar
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gn!reader x demon brothers
Suggestive content
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"what is this, mc?"
will keep his excitement lowkey, he just accepts it like "😐k"
but his sin is going wild rn
he's wearing it so proudly, he's so happy to be yours wow
only wears it when he's 10000% sure no one's gonna see him wearing it (besides you obviously)
the collar puts him in a really deep headspace too like he's putty for you now
he's been wanting this for so long!!!
it better be super shiny and luxurious!
will wear it literally always and Mammon also definitely flexes with being yours
he becomes the best boy when wearing it :3
man seriously this got him super flustered!
his face will be red all the time when wearing it
and he'll be stuttering so much aww
so to avoid embarrassment, he avoids speaking at all when wearing your collar
Levi literally hands over all control to you when wearing the collar
he's so so happy about the present!
kitten loves belonging to his ower :)
will die if the collar has some sort of name tag wowie
he'll fall really deep into the kitten headspace when wearing the collar!
won't wear it much outside of your private space unless you ask him to
Oh, mc! He's so happy!! This is getting him so excited oh lord
He'll construct his outfits around the collar now
Asmo won't ever take it off fr
It'll make him even more shameless than usual lol
no srsly the demon is vibing so hard with the concept, you'll be the first and only he's ready to show such ownership for
aww, mc
thank you
this is so nice of you!
wear it? of course!!
he promises to take it off only for working out
his love for you just grew 100x and he's constantly reminded of that love thanks to the collar :) he's really happy ok
he'll be a little confused when he suddenly wakes up with a collar
he's not really complaining about it though
just kinda accepts it
he does feel like he can sleep better with it....
thanks, mc :)
hm, you want him to be a good boy when wearing it?
... he'll consider it
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destourtereaux · a month ago
simp for you - rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: rafe teases topper about being soft for sarah, but he and kelce are quick to point out that rafe acts the exact same for a certain girl...
taglist - add yourself here
warnings: drinking, profanities (i never really swear so this was so odd to write LOL)
word count: 1.2k
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gif by @jedidiahtiens
a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for the outer banks, so if you have feedback let me know :) -- this was inspired by one of @annab-nana's fics, would 100% recommend you check out her writing!! as always, reblog if you like <3
“Topper, could you be any more obvious? Sarah’s got you wrapped around her little finger!” Rafe exclaims in disgust. “Everyday it’s how’s she doing, where’s she at, like damn!”
“He’s right, Top, you’re down bad for her,” Kelce joins in. “But what I don’t get is why Cameron’s the one acting all big and bad…” he smirks.
A crooked smile replaces the annoyed look on Topper’s face at these words. “Yeah yeah, as if you’re not the same with Y/N, Rafe. We see how you get around her. All -- mushy, staring at her all the time and smiling like an idiot.”
Rafe scoffs, “Please! You’re both seeing things, I’d never get all soft like you fools. That’s some lame shit right there.”
Kelce and Topper shake their heads, almost in unison. “Whatever you say man.” They knew it wasn’t true in the slightest.
Later that night at the beach, a roaring party was taking place. There was a bonfire going, and as always, lots of booze. The ruckus had attracted quite a few tourons, and so it was particularly chaotic. Everyone who was anyone on the Outer Banks was there, swaying to the beat or making out with someone else.
Not ones to shy away from attention, Topper, Kelce, and the King of the Kooks himself, Rafe Cameron were at the very center of it all, getting absolutely wasted. They sat near the flames, in a little circle so exclusive that no one else dared to go within a meter of them.
That was, until a clear voice cut through the crowd. A voice Rafe would recognize anywhere.
“Hey boys!” you waved at them through the throng of people, a huge grin lighting up your face. You’d just come back from a huge shopping spree with Sarah, having seen the text your boyfriend sent you about the kegger.
Your friends waved back at you and Rafe beckoned you over. “I missed you guys,” you add, giving your boyfriend a side hug as his hand found your waist and pulled you next to him. He smiled at you almost unconsciously, taking in how the light from the bonfire bounced off your hair, enveloping your face with a glowing warmth. You looked angelic, and Rafe’s breath caught. You noticed him staring and gave him a little peck on the cheek, smiling.
Kelce and Topper glanced at each other and smirked, the show was about to start.
“Rafey, can you get me a drink? I’m a little thirsty,” you ask, oblivious to what was happening.
“Yeah of course, babe,” he nods, planting a kiss on your forehead and walking off in search of a cup.
You turn your attention back to Topper and Kelce. “So… Top! Kelce! How are you guys? I haven’t seen you two in so long.”
“Oh, you know, the usual. Dealing with Rafe and his shit,” Kelce responds casually.
That draws a giggle from you, “thank you for your service, gentlemen.”
Topper does a mini-bow, acknowledging their work.
“But enough about us, how have you and Rafe been, Y/N?” he redirects the conversation quickly, and Kelce nods his head fervently.
“...Okay I guess?” you respond, a little thrown off by the change in topic. “We’re doing great, Rafey’s a great person, and so so charming. You wouldn’t think it because he acts all bold but he is such a sweetheart deep down.” Lost in your thoughts of your boyfriend, you miss the identical smirks on your two friends’ faces.
Just then, Rafe returns with drinks for all of you, and he pulls you down onto his lap as he takes a seat on the sandy beach. “Have you eaten anything today?” he asks you insistently, “we can take the car to grab some food if you’d like, I don’t want you to be hungry.”
“I’m fine, baby,” you insist, turning to nestle your face into the crook of his neck and the boy nods.
A few hours later, most of the tourons had left and only the locals were left, chattering in their own groups around the fire. You found yourself getting drowsy as you took in the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing onto the beach and the crackling of the dying fire, and promptly fell asleep.
Rafe was never really a details type of guy, but when it came to you… he seemed to have a sixth sense. He noticed right away when you crossed that line between reality and dreamland; you relaxed a bit in his arms and your head drooped softly onto his chest. Sighing, he gently turned you around so that he could better support your weight, he knew you were probably exhausted. The fact that you had fallen asleep in his arms revealed to Rafe just how much you trusted him and this realization gave him a sudden boost of love for you. He swore right then that he’d protect you to the end of your days, no matter what it took.
Turning back, he was greeted by two shit-eating grins beaming at him from his two best friends.
“Not soft, huh… Rafey?” Kelce broke the silence, chuckling. “Wanna get some food? I don’t want you to be hungry!! We’re losing you, man, do you hear yourself?”
“Of course, I’ll do anything for you, baby,” Topper adds, “and you thought I was mad for Sarah.”
“Admit it, you’re a simp for her,” Kelce finishes, “and you don’t even know it.”
Rafe’s face burns, and he’s glad the darkness covers up the redness climbing his neck that has nothing to do with your warmth on his chest.
“You’re both idiots,” he concedes, downing the rest of his beer and throwing down the plastic cup, ignoring the combined laughter of both his friends. “Idiots who’ll be getting themselves home tonight. I’ve gotta drive Y/N back.”
And just like that, the other two boys are silenced, but not for long. Then their laughter transforms into groans. “You’re kidding, Rafe. Whatever happened to bros before hoes, huh?”
It’s all jokes though, Topper and Kelce were happy that Rafe had someone to keep him on track. You were perfect for their friend, anyone could tell. And so they goodnaturedly began their own walk back as Rafe, ever so gently, picked you up and carried you over to his car.
As he buckled you in, you opened your eyes, dazed from the sudden awakening. “Baby where are we?” you prompt, the night was silent all around you two, and there was no sand between your toes anymore.
“Shh, don’t worry Y/N/N. I’m taking you home. You can keep resting if you want, I’ll wake you up later.”
“Okay. I love you Rafe,” you murmur, and then the tide of sleep washes over you once more.
Rafe stays silent for a bit, choosing to give you yet another kiss on the forehead instead. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you could ever know.”
And I wouldn’t mind being a simp for you, he admits in his head as he begins the drive back home.
taglist: @pogueslandia @maybanksslut @calaryssia
(+ @outermaybank @henqtic @taylathornton bc you guys pressured me into tn LOL)
2K notes · View notes
ohwowimlonley · 6 months ago
Satiated - Bucky Barnes
Warnings - smut, swearing, kinda hair pulling, praise kink, size kink, innocence kink, subspace, oral (f receiving), fingering, cockwarming, fluffyyyyy, teeny lil bit of angst, terrible writing, idk it's just nAsty lol. Established relationship btw!
Characters - dom!bucky barnes x virgin!fem!reader
Summary - y/n wants bucky to be her first. Bucky doesnt know shes a virgin. Smut ensues.
Authors notes - this has been in my drafts since I first started my tumblr so it's terrible for the first bit but it gets better (hopefully?)
You was so sure that this was it. Tonight would be the the night. You were finally going to give up your virginity. To Bucky.
You meant to tell him that you were a virgin. Really, you did. But it just never came up. You had been with Bucky for just over four months now. There was no point in keeping it from the others, mostly because of how clingy you were with him. It was strange for you; being this clingy - this needy - with someone. You'd never felt anything like it before. Granted, you'd never had a boyfriend before Bucky, he was your first kiss too. Not that he knew any of that, of course. But with him you felt so at home. You didn't think he'd need to know. It wouldnt make any affect, right?
You'd set the mood, you thought, just right. You didn't want to throw sex in his face so you opted for your LED strip lights to be set to a light red with the main light off. You were wearing his longsleeve Beatles tshirt and a pretty cute lingerie set that you bought in preparation. You decided against wearing shorts, after all, the mission was to fuck the guy, why let another bit of clothing get in the way?
"Hey doll, I'm back," Bucky's infuriatingly attractive voice rang out. He'd just gotten back from a HYDRA mission. You knew he hated going on those missions, especially when you weren't with him. You rushed over to him.
"Hi there darling," you wrapped one arm around his neck and the other went under his shoulder, crushing the life out of him in a hug. He returned it with equal force which made a grin wriggle its way onto your face.
"How was it?" You pulled away and smushed his face in between your hands, "are you okay? Did you need to go to the medi lab? Do you need another hug? Do you want to eat? I think I have some snacky things in my mini fridge but-"
"Doll, I'm fine," he interrupted, moving your hands from his face and putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "I didn't get hurt and I'm not hungry. I will take you up on that hug though. Can we watch something shit and cuddle? I missed you."
You almost melted at his little pout, "okay baby, why don't you climb into bed and I'll sort out some of The Flash, yeah?"
He leaned down to kiss your forehead before pulling away and getting under the covers. You went to turn on the TV and pulled up The Flash. You were well aware that Bucky was staring at your ass, which was sticking out of the bottom of his tshirt, giving him a peek of the lavender lace that barely covered you.
When you were done, you turned to see him with blown pupils but a calm smile on his face. He beckoned you over and you skipped towards him happily, your high ponytail swishing behind you. You jumped onto the bed and wiggled under the duvet with him.
Bucky immediately wrapped has arms around you and pulled you literally on top of him. You whined at him and squirmed.
"Buckyyyyy I can't seeeeeee!"
"Don't whine doll, you said so yourself that it's shit. So just stay here with me, yeah?" He held you tighter against him so you complied.
"Y'know, I have the best boyfriend, like, ever. Like it's not even funny anymore you're just awesome," you rested your chin in between his ribs and smiled so wide it was almost a grimace. He rolled his eyes at you.
"You're a sap, dollface," he was smiling, though, so it proved that he liked it.
You sent him a wink and sat up so that you were straddling him over the hips. His eyes bugged out for a second but he tried to play it cool. He leaned up to peck you on the lips.
"Hey there, princess," he murmured, smiling softly.
You kissed him again, deeper this time and with more passion. Bucky didn't seem to object so you pressed further, tounge edging into the seam of his lips and parting them. He grunted in response and sucked in the muscle, sitting upright now. His hands wandered down to your ass and squeezed, gently at first but his grip got firmer when you whined into the kiss. Bucky smirked and pulled away, eliciting another whine from you.
"What's got you like this, little one?" You shivered at the nickname. He noticed.
You distracted yourself from his words by rolling your hips on his. The sensation of it was sending chills down your spine making you shiver and your thighs tense. You could feel yourself getting... aroused.
"Like what, Buck?" You wiggled a bit on his lap, finally feeling that hardness under you that you'd never felt before.
"Like this," he muffled a gasp from your movement, "all... horny,"
You bit your lip and buried your face in his neck, groaning at his words, "stoooooop!"
"Whyyyyyyy? I just wanna know!" He insisted.
He wrapped one hand around your waist and the his prosthetic metal one in your hair. He pulled you back by the hair at the nape of your neck, the tiny bit of pain made you let out a moan.
"What's going on with you?!" He'd never seen you like this before.
You looked down, still firmly sat on his now very evident erection and played with the fingers of his flesh hand after prying it from your waist.
"I just- I can't-" you groaned at your inability to form a proper sentence.
"Just take a breath," you nodded, "and tell me what you want."
"I want you," you whined, "bubba please,"
"What do you mean doll- like-" you interrupted with another roll of your hips, praying that he understood. "Oh, oh,"
You nodded helplessly and grinded against him more, desperate for him to help you with the wetness that had built up from the friction between the two of you.
"You mean like, now?" He tried not to respond to your unintentional teasing but he was hard as a fucking rock because of you and your flimsy lilac panties, "y'know we don't have to if you don't wanna,"
"Baby please!" You weren't trying to be bratty, he was just taking so long and after 25 years of never orgasming, you were a little frustrated.
"Jesus Christ! Calm down doll, if I didn't know any better I'd say this was your time," he joked. But you tensed up. Oh god. Did he know?
You laughed it off, but Bucky's supersoldier senses made him acutely aware that your heart rate sped up and your breathing stopped.
"Doll if it's your first time we don't have to-"
"But Bucky I wanna! I promise. I wasn't even gonna tell you because I knew that you'd treat me like glass-- and- and that's why i never said that you were my first kiss either-" you cut him off but he returned the favour with an incredulous gasp.
"I WAS YOUR FIRST KISS? AND YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TOLD ME?!" He sounded angry. His grip on your hips tightened and you winced.
"I- I'm sorry Bucky! Just didn't wanna make you worried I-" His grip tightened more, vibranium fingers digging into your bones, "ouch Bucky!"
His hand instantly retracted and he looked mortified, staring at your skin that was already yellowing from his grip.
"See doll! This is why you should've told me! I could hurt you, darling! I don't ever wanna do that," his eyes were still glued to the still-forming bruise, tears welling in his pondwater eyes.
"You could never hurt me, Buck! Not really; not on purpose!" You protested. He didn't seem convinced in the slightest, more focused on the purplish red pigmentation coming to life on your hips.
"Oh honey, it's okay! It doesn't hurt and look, look, it's fading already," that was a lie, by the morning those bruises would probably be black and blue. Not that Bucky needed to know that, "and it's alright darling, it's not you're fault, remember? You can't always feel how strong your new hand is, yeah? My big strong Bucky,"
You could see him trying to fight a smile but he refused to meet your eye.
"C'mon Bucky! How am I ever meant to learn how to take care of you if you dont teach me?" You insisted. Bucky finally raised his gaze, along with his right eyebrow.
"Teach you?" He wore a smirk now.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
"Well, think about it, baby. I mean, I've never even kissed anyone. How could I possibly know how to- how to-" your confidence faulters almost immediately, failing to realise theres no need to be embarrassed when you're with your Bucky.
"To what, princess? To suck my cock? Y' wanna know how to suck m'cock? Or d'you wanna learn how to ride me? Hmm? Learn how to milk m'cock like a good little girl?" He teased. You shuddered against him, leaning further into his perfectly sculpted pectorals. "Oh, I think you do. I think that you wanna be my best girl, huh? My perfect little sub, yeah?"
You nodded against him, but that didn't seem to satisfy Bucky.
"Use your words with me, baby, yeah? Y'gotta use your words with me or else I won't know what you want," holy heck, even when he's dominating you to all hell, he's so sweet and gentle with you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.
"Yes, Bucky," you mumbled, reluctantly un-hiding your head from his warm body when a sharp tug at the roots of your hair prompted you away.
"Good girl, well done, honey," he praised you beautifully. You felt the urge to shy away from his compliments, but instinctually you knew that he wouldn't accept that.
"Thank you d- hmm Bucky," he obviously heard your blunder but didn't focus on it, opting instead to stroke soothingly across the expanse of your thighs.
"Okay baby. Just one more thing, I want you to have a safeword, m'kay?" You nodded, "this is just in case y'wanna stop or I do something you don't like, yeah? I won't go too hard on you tonight. Wanna make it all special for you. My little princess,"
"Thank you, bubba," shyly, you pressed a kiss to his cheek which made him grin widely.
"Can you tell me what you want your safeword to be, m'love?"
"I- uh," you were half tempted to give him a stupid answer but this meant a lot to him and you could see it in his eyes.
"C'mon, little girl, don't get all shy on me now," he lilted.
"I- uh, red? I think? I-it's easy to remember, I guess?" His hand had moved from your thighs to your ass, moulding it into any shape he deemed appropriate.
"Well done, princess," he rewarded you with a kiss to the forehead. Then the cheek. Then nose. Finally, the lips. As soon as he pulled away, you chased his lips with a pout and a whine.
"Now now, little girl. Dont get whiny," he lilted.
"Bubba kissy pleaseeee," you whined pathetically.
"Okay honey, but just know that you can't always get what you want with that cute little pout of yours," he relented, pushing his lips against yours. You whimpered into the kiss, grinding yourself down against him to relieve some of the pressure that had built up over your conversation.
He seemed to love it, grappling at your ass and pulling you further onto his raging hard-on. His tongue slipped into your mouth, licking over your teeth and smoothing itself over your own tongue.
"Lay down for me, little girl," he prompted, lightly tapping your bum and moving you to lie on your back. You scrambled to stay on top of him, clinging to his thighs and securing your arms around his neck, "it's okay, honey, I'm staying with you. Not going anywhere, yeah?"
"Staying," you echoed blearily, finally slipping off of him and lying down.
"Good girl," he confirmed, spreading your legs and settling in between them.
He tugged on the bottom of your shirt as a question to which you raised your arms and lifted up slightly. He pulled it off of your body and sat back on his heels to admire you. Bucky had never particularly been fond of the colour lilac but at that moment he had fallen in love with it.
"Sweetie you look... edible," he growled, "can I take it off?"
"Yes, daddy," your eyes widened at your own words, immediately covering your own mouth and retracting from his soothing hands. Your mind was racing 'oh god what did I just do? Does he hate me?'
"Say that again," he demanded, groaning and resting his head on your shoulder. You keened at that, letting out a sigh of relief that he enjoyed it.
"Yes, daddy," you brushed your lips to his ears, an almost tangible fog settling on your mind. It comforted you.
"Fuck," he lifted himself from your shoulder, undressing you quickly and throwing his head back at what he saw.
"I'm gonna fuckin' eat you for dinner," he rumbled. He moved your thighs even further apart, almost painfully so, and leaning down so his face was level with your pussy, "oh, honey look at you! You're soaking for me! So wet for your daddy,"
You whined and raised your hips in an attempt to get any type of friction. He pushed them down but ducked his head with you.
"Shh, it's okay baby. Daddy's here, I'll take care of you," he squeezed your thigh gently, "y' ready?"
"Please, daddy, pretty please," you tentatively moved your hands into his hair. He rewarded your boldness with a kiss to your pussy lips. It felt like heaven, even though he'd done next to nothing.
After that, he went all out; he spread your lips by dragging his tongue through them. Your fingers tugged on his hair as harsh as you dared, albeit not that hard. He seemed to love it though, moving to suck carefully on your clit. You let out a whiny moan, loving the new sensation. You'd never touched yourself before; never had an orgasm. This was all new to you and it felt so fucking good.
He suckled and pulled at your clit, slowly moving his index finger to your hole. He didn't enter you with his finger, opting instead to circle it gently, getting you used to the feeling if being touched there.
"Oh, daddy! S' good," you babbled, lost in another world of pleasure. He moaned against you when you tugged his silky locks harder. "D-daddy can you- can you please put your finger in? Pretty please?"
"Of course honey, but it might hurt. Hold my hand, 'kay? Squeeze it if it hurts, don't be afraid," he smiled at you oh so sweetly and offered you his metal hand. Your grip in his hair slackened and you moved your right hand into his flesh one, smacking his metal one out of the way.
"But honey," he protested, but you gave him no room to argue.
"Daddy! Wanna have your fingers in me please! I'll be a good girl I promise, jus' want your fingers," you argued. He complied, intertwining his fleshy fingers with yours and sitting up to get a better angle so he could position his metal ones by your entrance.
"Oh? Does my little girl want my metal fingers in her? Kinky little girl," he grinned at you.
"Yes daddy, please," you whimpered. Bucky kept his grin and pushed his middle finger against your entrance. You held your breath as it slipped into you. It was definitely painful, not unbearably so but still uncomfortable.
Your hand clenched around his while your other one sought purchase on the bicep of his metal arm. Bucky, always the detective, saw that you were struggling and gave you a moment to adjust.
"Tell me when to move, m'love," he urged kindly. You were more greatful than ever before for how beautiful his personality was. So kind. So loving.
It took you more than a minute to relax; muscles tensing and untensing around his vibrainium fingertips. When you were ready, you gave him the go-ahead so he started shallowly thrusting his finger in and out.
After that, it didn't take long before you were whining and begging for another finger. 'Another another another, daddy!' Of course, he had admonished you for being so bratty but he didn't turn you down. He thought you looked so pretty when you were begging for him.
"Daddy!" You whimpered, a strange pressure building between your thighs, heating up to an unbearable pleasure that you felt.
"Aw, baby, y'gunna cum?" He smiled. Before you could respond, he pulled out his fingers unexpectedly.
"Daddy!" You fussed, tingly feeling still strong in your core and thoroughly unsatisfied. The fog was like a blanket now; covering you up and keeping you warm.
"Shh, don't whine, baby. Don't want you to cum now and be too sensitive before I get you on m'cock now, do we?" Smoothing his hand over your hip, smearing your arousal over it.
"No daddy, sorry daddy," you conceded, terrified that you did anything wrong. You wanted to be daddy's good girl.
"No, sweetie, don't be sorry, you did nothing wrong," he reassured. You sighed, so thankful that you hadn't done anything wrong.
"Daddy?" You looped your arms around his neck.
"Yes, doll?" You rested one side of your head on his, still annoyingly clothed, pectoral.
"Can I have your cock now?" Glazed over eyes stared longingly at his own.
"Of course, little one," he pulled his shirt over his head, fucking finally. Your eyes stayed glued to his abs because 'fucking hell he's so fucking hot holy shit'.
"Thank you, daddy," your fingers pressed into his muscles.
"Sweetie, how d'you wanna do this?" He moved your hands from his abdomen gently so he could remove his jeans. Beneath them, you could see how truly massive he was and fuck he looks so good.
"Baby?" He asked again, snapping you out of your trance.
You didn't answer him verbally, instead moving onto his lap and settling comfortably on his raging erection. After his assault on your clit earlier, you felt extra sensitive and that pressure against your bare core made you convulse in pleasure.
"Okay sweetie, okay," he kept that calming smile plastered on his face, gently urging you to sit up so that he could remove his boxers. You kept his eyes glued to his face until it faltered in pleasure. Looking down, you saw it. Over eight inches and thick as all hell.
"Daddy?" Your head lolled to the side, watching as his hand moved up and down it at a moderate pace.
"Yes, doll?" Groaning, his eyes locked on yours.
"How will that fit in me?" He laughed at that, so fond of your innocence.
"It'll fit, little one, don't worry," he assured you, using his metal hand to gently stroke your hip.
You reached out to grab his cock but he was quick to move you away.
"No, sweetie," he moved your hand into his hair so you could play with it if you wanted to. You whined at him, claiming that you wanted to make him feel good, "you will make me feel good, honey. When I cum inside that sweet little pussy of yours I'll feel so good I promise,"
"Okay, daddy," you leaned against his broad shoulder as he circled your hips against his cock.
"Y'ready, princess?" He double-checked for what seemed to be the tenth time. You responded by reaching for his length and lining it up with your entrance.
Ever so gently, he slid you down onto his cock. If he hadn't opened you up with his fingers earlier, you would have been in a lot more pain. He kept his hands on you when you were all the way down on him; moving them to your tits and rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, causing even more pleasure to spike in your body.
You moaned loudly when he brought his mouth onto your left breast, suckling on your nipple, giving you the most pleasure you'd ever felt in your tits.
Adjusting took a few minutes but when you got used to it, you got impatient very fast. He noticed it when you grinded against him, shuddering at the immense feeling of his cock brushing against your inner walls. He couldn't bring himself to move away from your nipple, though, so he kept sucking while he moved both his hands to your hips and lifted you up so you were only halfway sheathed on his length. He secured you there so you were suspended on his cock, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. His pubic bone brushed against your clit and you were in heaven; his mouth on your tit, cock in your pussy and delicious friction on your bundle of nerves.
"Oh daddy! Feels so good!" You gasped out a breath, overwhelmed by pleasure and all of a sudden, you were falling. Falling deep into a delicious subspace. And there was that overwhelming buildup of pressure in your core again. "Daddy?"
He finally pulled off of your tit, leaving you cold without the warmth of his mouth, "yeah sweetie? What's up?"
Still thrusting up into you at a steadily inclining pace, Bucky found it hard to believe that this was your first time. You were so lost in pleasure that you hadn't acknowledged his words.
"Doll?" He punctuated his sentence with a sharp thrust to your g-spot, making you see stars.
"Daddy? I-I feel-" you didn't know what you felt. Full. For sure, you felt full. Bucky's girth was splitting you in two.
"What d'ya feel, doll? Y'gunna cum? Gonna cum all over daddy's cock like my good little girl?" He teased you, kissing along your neck, bruising it whenever he saw fit.
"Yes daddy! Please, please can I cum?" You begged.
"Of course, little one, cum on daddy's cock," he encouraged. As soon as he gave permission, you let go.
You'd never felt pleasure like that, vision going white and violently clamping down on Bucky's cock, causing his eyes to roll back into his head and cumming inside of you. You fell blindly even deeper into the blissful state that made you feel oh so warm and fuzzy on the inside.
You didn't stir for a while after that. Not until Bucky gently attempted to move you off of him.
"No daddy! Nonononono!" You scrambled to stay leaning against his chest, "no movin daddy, stayin here,"
"Honey, we have to get you cleaned up," he reminded you.
"Daddy no! Have to stay with daddy," you insisted. He ran a soothing hand through your hair.
"Okay, princess, we can stay here," he relented, "but 's not daddy anymore, is it? 'S Bucky again, remember?"
"Nuh-uh, 's daddy. 'N I'm daddy's baby," you babbled, reaching to play with his fingers.
"No baby, it's Bucky. C'mon, baby, y'gotta come back f'me, yeah?" He urged you ever so carefully, scared that if he pushed too far then you would go deeper into subspace.
"But daddy-"
"No baby, say it with me 'Bucky', yeah?"
"Bucky," you repeated. "Bucky!"
"That's right m'love! Are y' back with me now?" He asked.
"Yeah, 'm back baby," you muzzled your face in his neck, hyperaware that his cock was half hard again in your cunt but your legs ached too much to do anything about it.
"Well done honey, how d'you feel?" He checked.
"What in all hell does that mean?"
"Your a 100 year old assassin and you don't know basic English?"
"I'm American!"
"You speak English!"
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venusiangguk · 2 months ago
the art of waiting | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, pwp, a lil bit of fluff
>>word count: 3.9k
>>warnings: just fun n casual times 😁, dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, orgasms, nari is there but shh she is dreaming, overstimulation, dirty talk, jreampies are back babyyy, oral (f), panty stuffing, biting lol, kisses 😚, butterfly baby clip, unprotected sex <3, they missed each other 🤧, fingering, blushing
>>notes: those pajamas really got me bro 😔 also this is just a drabble and can be read as a stand alone <3 if u are concerned about order tho, this comes after the art of craving!!
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: jks back from his business trip, and he’s wearing new pjs... you must get his face between your legs
When Jeongguk walks into his room after checking on his sleeping baby, you’re nowhere to be seen. Until he takes a few steps over to his walk in closet.
You’re in the process of slipping into one of his large oversized carhartt shirts. The soft grey material flows over your body, over your tits, then your tummy and the little jewel dangling from it. Then over your tiny panties until it rests on your thighs. Your freshly washed head of hair pops out and you let out a squeak of surprise when you see him resting against the doorframe, a soft smile on his face.
“Watching me get changed?” you scold with a quirked brow.
Jeongguk’s eyes get those little puffs under them as he tries not to smile, he runs a tattooed hand through his own freshly washed hair, unabashedly lets his eyes drag over you. “Stealing my clothes?”
You pout, run your fingers over the silks and satins and cottons hanging up next to you. “Didn’t know I was gonna stay the night… forgot to bring my own jammies.”
“Ahhh,” he says, bracing himself against the frame, his shoulder on it as he folds his arms underneath his pecs, his biceps rounding out. “You forget them every time you come over… yet somehow remember everything else… your toothbrush… skincare… a change of clothes for tomorrow...”
“Must have just slipped my mind.”
He laughs, turns and walks into his bathroom, talking over his shoulder as you follow behind him. “I feel a little overdressed now.”
The jar of Kiehl’s in his hand is open, and he uses his ring finger to tap some of the white cream onto his face. He giggles lightly as he watches you ogle him through the mirror. “You’re so shameless…”
You shrug, because of course you are. How could you not be?
Clad in an actual see-through, olive pajama set that has the prettiest knit pattern to it... Jeongguk looks very good. The shirt is a bit oversized, yet well fitted, unbuttoned enough for his sternum and clavicles to make an appearance. His briefs kept him modest during Moana, little Nari cuddling in his lap as she watched with the same big round eyes as her dad.
The bathroom light hits him just right, shining through the tiny holes in his buttoned top, showcasing the lithe cut of his waist. The skin of his shoulders peeks through where their broad length fills the shirt out, slightly sunkissed from all the days out in the garden. The way that his tattoos show through the material makes you sigh. He really is so dreamy, so attractive– and though sometimes he can be so sweet and shy– he’s so confident in himself and his style.
You pad over to him and grab his hips, turning him around. With your chin against his chest you look up at him. “I don’t think you’re overdressed, I think you look very sexy and handsome and very much like a Da–” His finger on your lips shushes you as he playfully narrows his eyes at you.
Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him. Then your hands find his face, fingertips gently rubbing his moisturizer in for him, though his cropped haircut makes it hard for you to properly get his forehead. Leaning around him, you scour the counter until you spot what you’re looking for.
Nari’s light purple butterfly baby clip is small, but it does what it needs to as you pin back some of his bangs. A few little flyaways slip out, but they just dust over his forehead and don’t hinder you too much while you finish up with his moisturizer. You’re so focused on your task that when you bring your attention back to Jeongguk as a whole and not just Jeongguk’s clear, smooth, poreless skin, you get a little shy under his gaze.
He has a gentle smile on his lips as he looks down at you. And his eyes are doing that thing. Where they shine and twinkle and you can just see the way he adores you and it makes you squirm a little, fighting a smile of your own, willing your heart to beat steady and not skip too many beats. He presses into the palm you still have on his face, turns a little to press a soft kiss to the skin.
“What are you looking at?” you whisper.
He shakes his head a little, another little piece of hair slipping from the baby clip at his temple. “Just you.”
You blush, and clear your throat a little, hands falling from his face to smooth over his shoulders, his chest, his toned tummy. Your pinky nail catches on one of the holes for a second, the light scratch on his skin is enough to make him exhale heavily, his minty breath puffing onto your face.
“Well I’m looking at this lingerie,” He laughs at you and your choice of words, rests his lower back against the counter and pulls you against him with his big hands on your hips. He bunches his shirt a little in his hands when he squeezes at you. “And thinking about how I want you to take it off.”
Jeongguk hums, the laughter in his eyes still making them glimmer. “You take it off…”
His hands move from your hips to your hands resting on his shoulders, and he holds your gaze as he guides them to the top button of his shirt.
And really, your hands shouldn’t be trembling like they are as you undo the black button. You’ve undressed him so many times, touched him even more times than that. But something about tonight– the soft, supple atmosphere that is slowly bleeding into something heavy and exciting– makes the tension sweet, makes the pulse between your legs flutter as more and more of his chest is revealed to you.
“You’re like… so hot,” you murmur as you let your hands roam, rubbing over the smooth hairless skin of his torso. He watches you, and sighs when you place a soft wet kiss to the center of his chest, his eyes lulling shut. “I can’t get over it, every time I see you I’m just like… whoa.”
Jeongguk scoffs under his breath, smiles with his eyes as you push the shirt off of his shoulders, leaving his top half bare. Your hands make their rounds on his arms now, paying special mind to the one covered in ink. His bicep is meaty in your small hand, and you squeeze at the bulge of it… the ones that’s still visible even when he’s not flexing. You groan softly.
“And you’re getting so strong…”
“I’ve always been strong,” he teases. His voice is soft though, has a little bit more vibrato than usual.
“Yeah but–” You don’t know what comes over you, but you bend some, and then barely sink your teeth into the meaty part of his muscle. A sigh falls from your lips when you hear Jeongguk gasp out a moan, and you kiss over the faint teeth marks you left behind.
“I don’t know,” you continue absently, words kissed into his skin and you make your way over to his chest. You wrap your lips around a nipple, and his head falls back as he whispers a soft whine of your name. His hands come to your hair, and he massages at your scalp as he lets out heavy breaths, trying to slyly keep you there; lapping at his chest. You pull away to say, “Just lately– I want you so bad.”
“Just because we haven't seen each other in a while,” he says, pulling you up to his level. He cups your face, presses kisses all over– your jaw, your cheeks, your neck.
“Maybe,” you sigh under all the affection, and your pussy is leaking in your panties as you rub your thighs together. “Will you… wanna cum from your mouth tonight…”
You feel him press a smile into your neck, and then he nods. “Yeah, can do that for you… always gonna give you what you want.”
His lips find yours and they stay connected as he guides you from the bathroom to the bed just a few feet away. As you crawl up the bed, Jeongguk crawls with you, quiet giggles sneaking in between the kisses, until he settles over your body, lying between your open legs.
He takes his time, kissing you, letting his hands explore underneath his shirt. Licks into your mouth when your nipples pebble under his touch. Your back arches and your hips cant against him, his cock hard against the wet fabric of your panties.
“I missed you,” he says quietly, his lips slowly moving south. He feels you tense under his hands for the briefest of moments before you melt for him, sighing softly.
“Missed you, too,” you say as you lift yourself up some to help him get his shirt off of your body.
Jeongguk hums as his hands palm at your body. The smallest part of your waist, the plush swell of your tits pillowed on your chest, the soft part of your inner thighs. He flicks his gaze up to you when he toys with the small bow on the lace trim of your panties. You push into his touch eagerly, and it makes him smile as he leans down again, kissing down your tummy while his hands grip your tits.
He rolls them in his hands, pinches at your nipple while his tongue comes out to play with the charm in your belly button, before swirling around it and placing light sucking kisses. Your breath shakes, and the muscles in your tummy jump at the teasing.
He’s looking up at you again and you laugh lightly, the butterfly clip making it easy to see his eyes, how dark they are, as he trails farther and farther down. You tense in anticipation when he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, kissing every inch of skin that appears as he slowly tugs them down.
At the first sweet kiss to your slit, you gasp, head turning into your shoulder. You missed this, having him between your legs, feeling the way he takes his time like he’s savoring you. His business trip wasn’t that long, only a week, but conflicting schedules made it difficult to see each other until now. The wait is worth it though when you feel his tongue on your clit.
He pulls away to scold you, your gasp a little too loud. “Hush, you have to be good.” He gives you a pointed look while he settles on his tummy, one leg bent, the curve in his waist sinful as you look down at him. Hooking your legs on his shoulders, he opens you up with two fingers.
His breath is warm when he blows lightly on your glistening cunt, and you tremble. Your breath stutters and you wiggle. So badly just wanting his mouth on you, his lips sucking at your clit, his tongue flicking it and licking inside of you.
“Please, been wanting it for days, been waiting for you,” you pant, hands at your tits.
“Yeah?” Jeongguk asks, as he slicks his middle finger up with his spit. He watches your face, as he sinks it inside of you. How your brows furrow and eyes scrunch at first, and then how your mouth parts and a sigh leaks out. He puffs out a soft moan when your legs spread wider, falling off his shoulders and to the bed, the desire thrumming through your body coming out in subtle, unconscious actions that make his cock jump in his pants. He gingerly rubs against the mattress beneath him.
You nod, as you swallow thickly. Your eyes are shut as he works his finger, curling it on the pull out. “Thought about you when I touched myself,” you tell him bluntly.
Jeongguk laughs, works a second finger in. “Even though we played over the phone? You still needed to get off?”
Heating up a little in embarrassment, you tell him that you guys didn't play every night, and he laughs again, says something about how you’re so wanting, so insatiable. You just moan in agreement because it’s true. Nobody has ever fucked you the way he does, nobody’s ever made you feel the way he does, you’ve never yearned for someone the way that you do him. Your body always wants him, craves him. Was just waiting for him while he was away.
It's obvious how much you want him by the sounds that fill the room when he starts to finger you faster, replacing the teasing strokes inside of you with fast, curling pushes and pulls. The noises are wet and nasty, and you’re doing your best to be quiet, the soft stuttering moans falling from your lips are high pitched and so sweet Jeongguk could just drink them down. You get a little louder though, when you start to work your pussy over his fingers, meeting the thrust of his hand with a roll of your hips.
“Ah, ah,” he tuts, removing them. “Quiet, baby.”
You don’t have the chance to whine because finally. Finally, Jeongguk wraps his lips around your clit. With your mouth parted in a silent moan, you look down at him. The clip in his hair is doing barely anything now, his bangs falling into his eyes. Which is no good– you want to see him, watch him as he makes you cum.
The clip gets plucked from his hair and you run a hand through it, pulling a little when he gives a particularly good lick, your head falling back distractedly before you get back to pinning his bangs again. You see the way his eyes get​​ the puffs under them as he smiles as best he can when his lips are tucked between your folds, his tongue licking and has his mouth sucking at you.
His smile makes you smile back, a breathless moan floating through the air.
“Feels so fucking good,” you whisper lewdly, flopping to your back, you hands going to your hair as your try to keep still for him. But the pleasure is so intense, so strong after not feeling his touch for more than a week. Your body has a mind of its own as your begin to wiggle, your hips jumping when he gives quick licks to your clit.
Jeongguk sucks your clit into his mouth quickly before pulling off with a small little pop! sound. “You’re so sensitive, today,” he observes, rubbing his fingers all over your spit slick cunt.
“Yeah, don’t stop,” you say matter of factly, bringing your legs to his shoulder again, using your toes to tap urgently at his back.
He nips at your mons playfully before licking with the flat of his tongue all over your cunt, almost like he’s trying to clean you up before making a mess of you all over again.
Jeongguk ruts into the mattress while he eats your cunt, the barely restrained, whiny moans that you keep letting out make his cock throb. He moans against you, the slightly rough, knitted material a strange yet pleasant feeling against the sensitive briefs covered head of his cock.
Soon enough, he brings his hand down to his cock, working to get himself free. This makes the ministrations of his tongue sloppy and you look down at him to see what going on. You see how hard and flushed his cock is in his tattooed band as he strokes over himself lazily.
“You like eating my pussy that much?” you ask, trying to tease, but it comes out whiny and awestruck.
Jeongguk is shameless as he nods, pulling back only to say, “Yeah, love your pussy,” before getting right back to making you feel good.
Your cunt pulses when you think about Jeongguk getting so much pleasure just from going down on you, how he’s so hard just from licking at your pussy and tasting how you leak for him. You start to lock up, the rush beginning to curling in your belly.
“Oh, I’m gonna cum Jeongguk…” you say, head turning to the side, hands coming up to pull at the pillow under your head.
And then Jeongguk pulls away.
You throw your head, back frustrated, but Jeongguk speaks up, presses a light kiss to your clit. “Have you already forgotten what to say when you’re close? What you’re supposed to ask?”
You remember before he even finishes his sentence. “Can I cum, please, please– need to,” you chant, tapping at his back again with your feet.
He hums a affirmative, and you almost cry in relief, but when you feel him move from his place between your legs the emotions turn frantic instead of relieved.
Your eyes were closed before so when you look up to see Jeongguk over you, they grow wide. He’s smiling at you, a light blush on his cheeks.
“I need you to be quiet when I finish you okay?” he says, tone gentle.
You nod.
“But I don’t think you can do that,” he tells you.
You shake your head. “I can– I can I promise, please–”
“Shh,” he says, laughing and kissing your nose. “I’m gonna let you cum, don’t worry… Just– I have something that should help you keep it down?” He says it like a question, because as he’s speaking he’s bringing up a hand that has a scrunched up piece of fabric in it. A tiny little bow peeking out from between his fingers.
The blush on your cheeks is fervent, but you silently just open your mouth, and Jeongguk silently pushes your panties inside, the bow now peeping out at the corner of your lips.
Jeongguk looks you over, sighs a shaky breath when he pets at your hair, smoothing some of the flyaways that sprouted from your squirming. “Good?” he asks.
You nod.
“So pretty, such a good girl,” he says, kissing your cheek, “You can cum, gonna make you cum now.”
Having been so close before, it doesn't take much at all to get you reeling again. That hot build up in your lower belly comes to a head with just a few expertly placed licks and a couple perfectly timed sucks. Jeongguk moans when he feels that way your clit pulses in his mouth as you get closer and closer, the hand he has on his cock now flying up and down.
The panties in your mouth make your warning moans sound strangled and gargled, but Jeongguk knows you’re cumming when those rapid breaths start to make your chest rise and fall and when your hands start grabbing wherever they can reach, one in the pillow, one in his sheets. Your legs shake and tremble by his head and they squeeze around him when the string snaps, your body curling it on itself. 
Your hands fly to his hair, and they’re pulling and keeping him close, keeping him lapping at your clit, until they start to push him away when your body starts twitching. The baby clip that was in his hair is long forgotten and lost in the sheets by the time your hands leave his locks.
Jeongguk is quick when he gets to his knees and positions himself with his cock just barely kissing your center.
“Can I cum inside?” he asks, with an urgency to his tone as his hand continues to work over himself.
You’re a bit delirious, and the panties are still in your mouth when you lazily nod, and try to keep your still shaking legs open for him. The first thrust inside is slow but slick, and it’s a swift movement, you pussy soaked and so warm and tight around him, like velvet on his cock when he bottoms out. Your back arches, and thank god for the panties in your mouth because even the muffled moan is loud in the quiet of his home.
You watch him, as he pushes fast, frantic thrusts into your cunt, like he’s already so close just from his hand and the taste of you on his tongue. His hand comes up to your bouncing tits, squeezing while his other hand is braced on the back of your thigh.
He only needs a few slick pumps into your cunt before he’s there.
“Gonna fucking cum–” he whispers, his eyes squeezed shut above you, and his brows furrowed. He rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s concentrating and then his expression breaks into one of bliss so pure it almost looks painful. 
The softest, controlled moans fall from his lips as he pulls back to look down and see the way his cock pulses and throbs in your pussy. He just watches as he fills you up, catches his breath a little before he starts to push and pull lazy, milking strokes.
The way his cum starts to leak out of you and down to his sheets is obscene. There’s so much and it’s so messy that some gets onto his see-through pajamas that he still has on, that waist band tucked underneath his balls.
You see and whine because you actually really like that set and don’t want it getting ruined. You don’t say much, however, seeing as your panties are still in your mouth as you watch him, a tiredness settling into your limbs
Jeongguk ignores you, grabs the base of his slowly softening cock as he pulls out. He rubs the mess around a little more with the tip of his cock, and he smiles when he hears the muffled cry as he grazes you clit. He has mercy, thankfully, and gets up to head to the bathroom after plucking the panties from your mouth.
Barely still awake when he gets back, you feel him clean you up with a warm washcloth, and you shy away a little from still being sensitive and Jeongguk coos, kisses your bent knee.
“Thank you,” you say drowsily.
Jeongguk purrs, has a smile coloring his voice when he says, “You remembered.”
He walks away again, tossing the dirtied towel in the laundry hamper. It’s barely a couple of minutes when he walks back into his room with water in his hands. 
You take it gratefully and drink your share before handing it back to him so you both can share. The domesticity isn’t lost on you, but you tuck the thought away. Instead opting to say, “You came inside me.”
Jeongguk pauses for a moment, takes a sip of water. “I did, yes.”
He pauses again, trying to think of whether or not he did something wrong. “Because I wanted to? I asked first…” He feels a little like a child that is about to get scolded.
“No, no– I know, but why?” you stress, “I thought that was a no no for us?”
“Oh,” Jeongguk says, catching on at last. “I did a lot of research when I was gone. You were right, the IUD’s are like very effective.”
You give him a flat stare. “I have literally been telling you that for months.”
He shrugs sheepishly, reaching to put the glass on his nightstand. He is naked just like you. “Sorry, I was scared.”
You chuckle before flopping back onto the pillow. “Just think about all the creampies I missed out on,” you say wistfully.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes, but cuddles up behind you, telling you he will give you more if you quit whining.
Sleep comes quickly when you stop running your mouth.
hello!!! thank u for reading another lil dilf jk drabble from meee <3 sorry nari was mia jk n oc needed some alone time 🙄 i hope u liked this one!! and i promise the next dilf jk installment will progress the plot lmao 💀 anywayyy, pls reblog, like, comment, send an ask if u enjoyed!! love feedback always helps and i love talking to u guys!! ciao !! 🏃🏻‍♀️💨
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fueledbyapplepi · 2 months ago
their s/o got shy because they pull up sum dirty jokes with the haitanis and sanzu please, anyways dont overworked yourself, dtay hydrated and eat properly <3 have a sweet day ahead!
What He Pleases | Bonten Sanzu, Ran, and Rindou
- Making their s/o shy with dirty jokes
genre: crack, fluff, suggestive
warnings: mature content, suggestive content, MINORS DNI ⚠️
A/N: Thank you so much, anon! May you have an awesome week ahead of you too. Ngl, this gave me some nsfw ideas to write LOL Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this so thank you for this request ( ◜‿◝ )♡
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Sanzu Haruchiyo (Akashi Haruchiyo)
Popping pills and getting stoned makes Sanzu's endorphins go crazy. Something that makes him see the world differently good.
However, there's a different kind of intoxication in seeing your smile. A kind of high where any drugs couldn't compare.
So, it was only natural for Sanzu to spoil you.
When your boyfriend's not busy being high or torturing guys in Bonten, he'd spend his time at the penthouse you two share or accompany you with whatever business you're down to. And today's either one of those days.
You placed the cup of coffee on the center table in front of Sanzu, when suddenly, the man pulled you into his lap making you blush.
"Sanzu!" You looked at him surprised. "What's going on?"
Your boyfriend snuggled his face into your neck as he squeezed your hips. The action never failing in making you all giddy.
"Hmmm, here." Sanzu handed you his black card. "Spoil yourself, Y/N."
You bit your lip as you looked at the black card. As tempting as it is, you can't help but feel guilty at the same time. "Sanzu, I have my own money."
"I didn't ask. Spend it, Y/N." Sanzu grazed his lips against your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin.
You gulped as you thought of all the things you've always wanted to buy. "But why?"
Your boyfriend smirked as he held into the card he gave you. "Thought that 3.5 inches are enough to make you happy."
Your eyes widened as your head just processed what your boyfriend told you. Covering your face, you can't help but blush at the sensual remark.
"But..." You peaked at your boyfriend through your fingers. "You know... Sanzu... you're not just..."
He looked at you, trying to hide a laugh as he adored your bashful state. "What is it?"
"You're big, you know." You whispered. Your hand barely hiding your beet-red face.
Sanzu can't help but snicker at what you've just said. "Y/N, I was talking about the size of my card you know?"
Your eyes widened at him. "O-oh..." Your shyness exploding out of you as you were the only ones who were having wrong thoughts the whole time.
"Unless..." Sanzu suddenly flipped you over the couch, his right hand pinning down your wrist while the other on your neck. "You want something bigger to make you happy."
You gulped as the tension in the air suddenly increased. "Yes..."
"Hmmm?" He smiled at your beautiful but helpless state.
"Yes, daddy."
Sanzu smiled. Yes. There's a different kind of high you bring to him.
And he's more than addicted to it.
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Ran Haitani
A man with an ego probably taller than him.
He's an arrogant bastard and he knows it. You know it. Rindou knows it. Everybody in Roppongi knows it.
Ran's cockiness doesn't stop with being around other Bonten members and high-profile criminals. Actually, it's still there when you're around.
And he loves you for it. He loves how you tolerate his attitude and keep up being around him always. He loves how you always feed his ego.
His ego's like a hungry appetite that's always craving for you. And it's favorite meal? Nothing but making you all red and embarrassed.
And that's the goal for today.
You were sitting next to Ran in his office on one of Bonten's hideout. Your boyfriend cleaning his Smith and Wesson's while you were helping him clean his baton.
"Can't believe you still kept this after all these years." You smiled as you wiped off the other half of the rod.
Ran smiled at you. "It brings me happiness and memories of the bastards I beat up with that."
"How can you take it? It's long and hard." You nonchalantly said as you continued to wipe the other side.
You heard the soft clatter of the gun against the table. A subtle laugh escaping from your boyfriend's lips.
Ran turned his office chair a little bit as he looked at you. An evident smirk on his face. "How about you Y/N? How can you take it when it's long and hard?"
"Huh?" You looked at Ran with a confused expression. Then suddenly it hit you, of course, Ran would take that opportunity.
You looked away at Ran as you pretended to clean his baton. Trying to hide the spreading blush across your face. "You should finish that now."
"No." You felt Ran's hand on your chin, softly forcing you to look at him. "Answer me."
"I-i...I don't know!" You closed your eyes.
"Then" You felt Ran's hot breath on your ears. "You'll know once we get home."
You opened your eyes. A cocky face of your boyfriend welcoming your sight.
Ran returned on his business of cleaning his gun. His smile was ten times wider than usual.
Maybe he can wait home. Or maybe he can take you right here.
To him, it's your fault anyway. Your shy state makes him absolutely go feral.
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Rindou Haitani
A Bonten executive shall always have his strong and stoic composture. Everybody in the gang knows that.
Rindou knows he always has this bored-out expression in his eyes. A stoic facade that he maintains around his men and Bonten.
But don't be fooled.
Despite his serious aura, Rindou does joke around sometimes. Maybe he got it from Ran, but the man definitely knows how to tease sometimes when he's up for it. Only around you though.
However, there's something in it for him. Although he won't admit it, seeing you get shy around him turns a different switch inside him.
And now, he wants you to help him turn on that switch.
You two were currently stuck in Tokyo's traffic in one of his luxury cars while on your way to a restaurant that Rindou had reserved for you.
"Rindou, you know I'm fine with ordering to take out." You smiled at him while scrolling through your phone. "It says here that it'll still be traffic for 30 minutes or so because of an accident."
"No." Your boyfriend grabbed your palm with his right hand. "We'll go."
"Okay." You enclasped your hand with his. Playing and brushing through his fingertips.
Rindou took this opportunity to look at you. Your outfit hugging your perfect body just right.
You're ravishing.
"I didn't realize you have large hands until now." Your index finger brushing atop of his palm.
"Hmmm," Rindou smirked. Loving the way you were playing with his hands right now.
"Ehh... and you have such long fingers." You twisted your pinky with his. "Maybe this is a tall people thing."
Rindou looked at the traffic. Grinning in his inner thoughts as he thought of what you just said.
"Tall people not only have long fingers" Rindou stared at you, burning holes into your skin.
You suddenly let go of Rindou's hand. Realizing what he had just implied.
"Rindou!" You looked at your side of the seat. "You can't just say that!"
Rindou suddenly laughed. Something that surprised you as you're still not used to it.
"I meant...tall people have long legs, Y/N."
You turned around to look at your boyfriend. Rising your brows as you try to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I...I know! That's what I'm going to say." You crossed your arms with a pout.
"Now don't get bratty on me, Y/N." You felt a hand on your thigh. Sending shivers on your skin.
"What were you thinking?"
2K notes · View notes
sukirichi · 7 months ago
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— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.
PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader
REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 
WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story
NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty
WC: 5.4k+
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The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.
Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.
Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.
He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.
You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.
“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “’re Y/N.”
“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”
“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”
“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”
He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”
“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”
“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”
“I know.”
“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.
Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.
“What exactly do you know about this industry?”
“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”
The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”
“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”
“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”
“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”
“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”
“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”
“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”
“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.
Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”
It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.
You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!
“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”
“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”
“Fushiguro Megumi.”
“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”
“You trying to say something?”
You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”
Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.
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You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.
Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.
The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.
He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.
“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”
“Oh, thank you. You are...?”
“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.
“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”
Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.
“Whoa, you made all this?!”
Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”
At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”
“You can – if you book an appointment.”
“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.
“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”
“Why not?”
“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”
You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”
That was the biggest lie of your life.
The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.
You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.
And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.
In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.
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“Hey, Y/N, you free?”
You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.
“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”
“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”
You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.
He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.
It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.
“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”
“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.
Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.
“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”
“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.
Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.
You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?
“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.
“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”
“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”
“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”
“Something wrong with that?”
“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”
“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”
“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.
Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”
He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”
“How sweet of you.”
“Shut up.”
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You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.
He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.
You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.
Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.
Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.
You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.
One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.
Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch “Are you drawing me?”
Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.
“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”
“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”
Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”
“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.
It was now or never.
“Can I see your tattoos too?”
“Why do you want to see them?”
“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”
“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”
“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.
“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”
Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”
“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.
A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.
You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”
Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”
You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.
“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”
“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”
“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”
Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”
“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”
“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”
“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.
You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.
Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”
“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”
“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.
Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”
“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”
“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”
“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.
A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.
He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.
You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”
“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.
“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”
“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.
Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”
“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.
Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.
“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”
“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”
He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.
“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”
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buckybarnesdiaries · 7 months ago
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Steve gives you Bucky's dog tags for a reason.
word count: 2.4k (lol, sorry)
warnings/tags: none. bucky being a cutie.
author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
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“Welcome to Wakanda, agent (Y/N)”.
A second after you crossed their airspace, you were courteously greeted. The views from your ship were indescribable. Peace invaded you just at the sight of the open fields and the warm colors of autumn. You could get used to that place too. To live in calm, work hand-to-hand with Shuri, and have time to spend it with Bucky. The reason why you were flying there. Removing your right hand from the control and grabbing in a fist the dog tags hanging on your chest, you took a deep breath while closing your eyes before getting ready to land. T’Challa was waiting for you at the entry of his kingdom, accompanied by his excited little sister and some of his guards.
Pressing a sequence of buttons above your head, to pull the control back, the ship went down slowly folding its wings. As you landed and turned off the engineers, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and the huge headphones to step out. Shuri received you with a friendly hug, breaking protocol and being just Shuri. You built a strong relationship since you met a year ago, when you brought Bucky to that beautiful and magical place, to let him recover. To let him rest.
“Your highness”. You uttered to T’Challa crossing your forearms in the traditional salutation of Wakanda.
“Agent (Y/N)”. He corresponded walking closer. “The white wolf asked me to let you know he wouldn’t want to be… bothered with visits today”.
You couldn’t help but frown. The last time you saw him was around three months ago. You usually interchanged letters from week to week, being one of the fewer persons he trusted in. And it wasn’t just a question of trust. Steve told you about his feelings, his shyness, and insecurities, his fears. What Bucky didn’t know, again, it wasn’t a question of trust from you either. That’s why the Captain gave you the dog tags, after more than thirteen years under custody. You wanted to see him, to know if he was happy there as he wrote you in his letters one million times.
“He doesn’t wear his arm here”. Shuri clarified, taking a position close to his brother.
By the look on their faces, you were aware of two things. One, they noticed too that something was growing between Bucky and you, and that it wasn’t a simple friendship. Two, they weren’t going to stop you. Oh, quite the opposite. They’d bring you to him on a golden platter and a big red bow on your head. The king beckoned a hand to urge you to follow him to the inside of the building and use one of their ships to fly above the place to the white wolf’s location.
You were nervous. You didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours last night thinking about him and how he’d react to having back his tags since the forties. Your eyes were focused throughout the window on your left, watching different citizens taking care of animals and plantations, children running from one side to another, playing and having fun. Oblivious to the horror of New York, where you resided. One of the cities in the world with the highest rates of street violence. Serial killers or simply killers, rapists, kidnappers, drug dealers (...). It was a minefield and Wakanda seemed and felt like Heaven.
“Did you think about the offer?” Shuri nudged you to push you back to reality, turning your head towards her.
“Since you dropped it to me”.
“I…” You needed to put away your gaze again, focusing on the blue opened sky in front of them. “I want… to consult him first if you don’t mind”.
“Of course, (Y/N)”.
“I don’t want to put his world upside down, now that he’s not the…” You couldn’t finish the sentence. You couldn’t pronounce that detestable nickname and the pain beneath it.
Shuri nodded in silence, not needing your explanations. She knew how you felt. She understood you. The talk didn’t continue, stretching your right hand on your lap to calm your nerves and make you comfortable with the situation. The flight didn’t last longer than five or ten minutes, losing the track of time deep in your thoughts. The pilot indicated to you through the headphones that you were about to land, glancing at a complex of small houses in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and wilderness.
You were the last one jumping outside with your hand grabbing the tags on your chest, trying to find the encouragement there to follow T’Challa’s hand pointing at a man working with goats and collecting hay for them. Licking your lips and assenting with your chin, you guided your steps towards him. Slowly. As if you wanted to turn around at some point. But you knew it was too late when he was the one turning at the sound of your heavy boots cracking the grass under them.
Bucky didn’t look annoyed for your visit, nor the lack of attention to his petition. Although there was something in his pale blue orbs you weren’t able to decipher, until he bowed down his head unconsciously to his left shoulder covered by a dark fabric matching his eyes. You had to do your best to not roll yours, shortening the distance setting you apart. You had been dreaming about that encounter since the last time you were there before Shuri accessed the darkest place of his mind and cleaned it from any trail of HYDRA. Now, he was free. And he looked in good condition as the bags under his eyes had disappeared and his hair was almost tied with a bun. His cheeks seemed a little more chubby and you just wanted to pinch them. But it’d be weird and out of place. For the time being.
Bit by bit, a sweet smile widened in your lips, curving them as Bucky stared at you again when he was conscious that you didn’t care. With or without a metal arm, your feelings were exactly the same. You couldn’t admire him more than you were admiring him at this point. You couldn’t love him more than you loved him already. And God was a witness of how many times you practiced to confess to him and tell him that the only thing you wanted in life was to be by his side. Bring happiness to his days, bring him peace and harmony.
“I'm sorry…” “I brought you…”
You two spoke at the same time, breaking in a soft giggle that jumped your hearts in complete sync.
“You first”. He let you, waving his hand.
“I… brought you something”. You susurrated, loosening the grip around the metal hanging on your chest to take off the necklace.
You noticed the way his eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Why did you have them? Who gave them to you? Why now? Bucky gulped watching you stretching the dog tags between your fingers towards him. He didn’t know what to do, taking a second before he was able to react. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw them, and the amount of memories they gave him overwhelmed his whole brain.
In slow motion narrowing his eyes, Bucky held the chain with two fingers to hang the necklace from it. You thought he was about to wear them, but he destabilized you as he directed his hands to above your head, to place them where they were an instant before. You didn’t understand. Didn’t he want them back?
“I want you to keep it”.
“I want you to have something mine”. Bucky recognized with a shy smile decorating his lips. “Those tags and my arm are the only things I have from my past. And… I won’t give you my arm…”
“Well, I bet it’d look good hanging from my neck”. You jocked tilting your head.
In his gift, you found the encouragement you needed to talk about T’Challa’s job offer. It wasn’t as if you were proposing to him, in the end, you were just friends even if it felt quite the opposite. You licked your upper lip, kissing your teeth after it, earning more than his attention.
“Shuri said, uh… I could come here, work with her. We’d do great things together, not only for Wakanda but for the world”.
Bucky’s gesture didn’t change a single inch, focused on the nervousness you were trying to hide from him and reading the reasons beneath.
“So T’Challa offered me to stay here”.
“Yeah… Permanently”. You assented pressing your lips, breathing through your nostrils.
“Did you accept?”
“Not yet. Not until talking to you about”.
He nodded then a couple of times, turning to the goats behind him coming closer. “Got to finish some stuff… Maybe we can talk later about it unless you have to leave”.
“No, no. I, uh… asked for the day off. Banner didn’t need me at the lab today”.
“Okay, good”.
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While the king was showing you the new level for research and investigations, Bucky took the advantage to go and find Shuri without your knowledge. He found her in the surroundings of the main building, working on your ship as you said it made some kind of random noise that put you out of your nerve during the flight.
“I need my arm”.
The princess squatted close to the left wing, turned at him without standing up. Pulling her sunglasses to the top of his head, she raised an eyebrow.
“For what”.
“You know for what”. He clicked his tongue, placing his hand on his left shoulder.
“No, I don’t”. She lied while cleaning the grass and oil in her expert fingers.
“I need to have two arms”.
“You’ve been working the last months with one arm only. Why do you need it now?”
“C’mon… Argh…” Bucky rubbed his face with boredom. “I want to hug her, okay? Can you just… give me back my damn arm?”
“Not enough reasons, you can hug her using your right”.
“I want to have two hands when I kiss her”. He finally confessed in a hiss, provoking a triumphant smile growing on Shuri’s lips.
“If you lie to me, if you don’t kiss her, Sergeant Barnes… I’ll code it to punch your face”.
“Wait…” Bucky wrinkled his nose drawing a horrified gesture on his face, as he turned his blue eyes towards his left shoulder. “Can you… do that?”
“Try me”.
No, of course she couldn’t, but he didn’t know. Which were a good push for him to not go against her and her petition.
“C’mon. I’ll set it up and help you to put it on”.
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Your eyes were traveling from one picture to another. He put some of them around his small house and it looked better now. More like a home. A place to stay. And for a second you felt a twinge straight in your heart when you noticed one photograph of the two of you, close to his bed. It was after your first mission together. Steve insisted on taking it, after noticing the sparkles between you. But you didn’t know he brought it to Wakanda with him, as your copy is on your nightstand too. And you used to fall asleep every night looking at it.
The curtain being moved and some steps in pulled you out from your thoughts, turning to find Bucky staring in silence at you. Your orbs landed on the metal arm. It was different too since the last time you saw it, with golden strips forming between the silver ones. You couldn’t help but sigh.
“You didn’t need to…”
“Yes, I did. I did need it”. He interrupted you, breathing through his parted lips and his heart about to fly off from his chest.
“Because, otherwise, I couldn’t do this”.
You were about to ask what he was referring to, watching him breaking the distance between the two of you in three fast strides. You closed your eyes at the moment his hands held your neck and Bucky slammed his lips on yours. The kiss, the contrast of cold and warmth on your skin, the everlasting longing for it to happen… All of this caused you to gasp, tangling the tunic at the height of his chest in your fists, not wanting him to take a step back. Your mouths fit perfectly without looking for it, made for each other, as he secured his fingers on the back of your neck. And you felt your knees weak when he pecked your lips one more time, before caressing your nose with his, not being able to open your eyes. Neither of you.
“I don’t have the right… to ask for anything”. He babbled. His insecurities coming afloat even if you hadn’t pushed him away. “But… I want you to stay here. With me. I… I don’t have much to offer you, but I promise to make you happy”.
At this point, your eyes were filled with tears, strongly closing your eyelids to not let them fall. You swallowed a sob, moving your hands from his chest to his middle back, embracing him tighter as you could.
“You’ve been making me happy since we met, Bucky”.
He chuckled breathless, intuiting he was too at the edge of his crying because of that affirmation.
“Every Tuesday, I wait at the stairs of my apartment for the mail, for your letters. I’ve… read them so many times I can recite them… by heart. Every word you've written to me”.
“I will continue writing them for you, even if you stay with me”.
Your voices were low, barely audible out of his place. Like secrets. Bucky kissed you again, bending enough to raise you by the back of your thighs and urge you to surround his waist with your legs. The dog tags on your chest clicked against the other, as you moved your arms to his shoulders and neck, and you were unable to stop kissing him. You two could die right now and not be bothered because you were finally together, and that was all you deserved in life.
“Tell me you will stay… please”. His beg brushed your lips, still pecking them between syllable and syllable.
“I will…” You replied without hesitating as you could, eager to correspond to every gesture from him. “I will stay with you”.
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jobean12-blog · 3 months ago
Hi! I was just thinking what if bucky was really awkward and doesn't know how to put his feelings into words and just kind of glares at reader whenever theyre in the same room and theres a big misunderstanding but it ends up fluffy
The Staring Contest
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 803
Summary: Bucky has a staring/glaring problem and you can't figure out why!
Author's Note: Hi love! This is so cute and so fatws!bucky with all his faces lol I love it. I had fun writing it and I hope you enjoy! Thank you! And thank you so much to to everyone for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf
Warnings: lots of fluffy fun and shy!bucky being awkward but adorable still.
Gif not mine: Thank you so much to @thompsons-tessa for it! :)
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“Is he glaring at me again?” you ask Wanda, taking a sip of your water.
She subtly nods and clears her throat, which makes Bucky dip his head. You turn and watch him rub the back of his neck with a sigh.
“I want to talk to him but he always looks so…so…grumpy,” you whisper.
Wanda giggles but covers her mouth quickly when Bucky looks up and glares again. He gets up and comes into the kitchen, giving you a small smile before awkwardly brushing passed you to get to the fridge.
He sticks his head in and moves things around, huffing when he comes out empty handed.
“Are you looking for the pizza?” you ask, causing him to whirl around and glare again. “I ate it the rest,” you confess.
Bucky doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring and you mumble out an apology.
“Why don’t we go pick up some more?” Wanda suggests, tugging on your arm to pull you away. “This way there will be plenty for everyone.”
You follow her out but not before glancing over your shoulder to see Bucky’s eyes still locked on you.
“Do I have something on my face?” you ask, wiping at your mouth while you and Wanda are in the elevator.
“No. Just your face,” she states, trying not to laugh. “That’s probably why he’s staring.”
“What?” you ask, confused. “He’s staring because I just have a face?”
Wanda laughs and mutters something in Russian. “No. He likes your face. That’s why he’s always looking.”
“Oh.” You contemplate her words for the rest of the ride down then scoff as you step off the elevator. “Nah. That’s definitely not it. I’m sticking with my grumpy theory.”
When you return with the pizza Bucky is no where to be found. Once the smell of fresh pizza starts to permeate the air, the rest of the team shows up to eat. You’re just about to take a bite of your slice when Bucky walks in, his eyes going directly to you.
You give him a little wave and motion to the pizza.
“Look, I got you more,” you tell him, walking over. “Do you want a slice?”
He doesn’t say anything and just watches you eat the pizza.
You give him an exasperated look and walk away.
“I don’t understand,” you complain, now standing with Wanda while Bucky walks over to grab some pizza. “He talks to Steve and Sam!”
Wanda shrugs but you can see a small smirk lifting the corner of her mouth.
“WHAT?” you nearly shout, surprising everyone.
You wave them off with a roll of your eyes and finish your food. In a huff you head back to your room and take a bath, hoping it will help you relax. When you’re feeling a bit better and dressed in your pjs you go to the kitchen to make some tea.
You feel a pair of eyes on you and turn to see Bucky on the other side of the island, once again, glaring. You hold his stare, narrowing your eyes the longer he gazes at you, his head now tilted slightly to the side.
After what feels like forever you finally throw your hands up and rush around the island.
“Why is with you and the glaring Buck?” you ask. “This isn’t a staring contest! What did I do to make you not like me?!”
That breaks him out of his silence and he quietly asks, “what?”
Your surprised look makes him shuffle his feet, his hands immediately searching for his jean pockets.
“I uh. I just. It’s not you,” he starts. “I’m not good at this anymore.”
“Good at what?” you counter, relaxing when you see that he’s clearly struggling.
“I’m sorry I keep staring at you. I’d like to actually say something but I don’t know what to say,” he admits.
“You’re doing fine right now,” you assure him.
He smiles at that and pulls his hands from his pockets, running one through his short hair.
“The pizza was really good,” he tells you.
“Joe’s is my favorite. Always has been.”
He nods. “Mine too.”
“You want to go sometime? I bet we could finish off a whole pie easy,” you joke.
“Baby doll. I could eat a whole pie myself,” he gloats.
His use of the endearment makes your eyes widen and he visibly panics.
“Too much?” he cringes. “I just…I didn’t mean to…”
You break out into a wide smile and giggle, stepping closer and taking his hand.
“Not at all. I love it. Just not used to it,” you explain.
He straightens his shoulders and pulls you even closer.
“Better start getting used to it then,” he tells you.
“So, is that a yes to my pizza date?” you ask with wink.
“Definitely yes,” he answers.
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jinkicake · 12 months ago
Don’t Get Shy On Me Now
How Bokuto, Kenma, Kuroo, Tsukishima would convince their shy s/o to let them go down on them. >:-) 
Bokuto Koutarou x Reader
Kozume Kenma x Reader
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Tsukishima Kei x Reader
Requested: For Anon~ I really liked writing this one, I enjoy how it came out!! Oddly enough this took me longer to write than the paper I had to finish this weekend HAHAHA,,, I wonder what that says about me.... not too much I hope! Ahh I hope there aren’t too many errors, I apologize but my ass is so tired right now and I am bad at spelling!! HAHAH.... 
WC- 2,747
Bokuto Koutarou
Bokuto is so competitive that once he has his eyes set on something, he is getting it
He would try his best to make you feel comfortable and relaxed to ease you into his touch
This involves Bokuto staring up at you like you hung the moon in the night sky,,, he has really dangerous puppy eyes
He will kiss you everywhere to get you more comfortable with it, he does everything to show you how pretty you are~
Bokuto will promise that you like it and that you can tell him to stop or change any of his movements, he simply wants to get you to try it!! He wants to find out what you like and don’t like!
He’d be very gentle,,, lol he has to hold himself back from devouring you because he doesn’t want to scare you off
Imagine a gentle and soft Bokuto,, it’s very cute…. He is so focused on your every movement and expression to make sure you are enjoying it!
Bokuto would say something stupid via “reverse psychology” to make you feel more open with him about oral HAHAH
“You can give me a blowjob after, or right now, so then we can be even!”
Bokuto tries….. he really does,, of course, he would never push past your comfort zone so he would be able to tell if you really don’t want it. Then again with Bokuto, why wouldn’t you? ;-)
“W-wait!” You squeak and push Bokuto’s head away roughly, quickly while he is distracted you pull your shirt down your thighs. Bokuto looks up at you curiously with his hair parted in different directions. The innocence and want in his golden eyes make you stiffen.
“What is it?” Bokuto asks while trying to push your shirt up onto your hips. It doesn’t work out well for him due to the iron grip you have on your shirt. You open your mouth to answer him back but nothing comes out, the reaction makes your boyfriend pout and he buries his head into your soft thighs.
“I’m nervous,” Your voice is higher than normal as you try to mask your embarrassment. “what if you don’t like it or if I don’t like it or if-“ You can’t even continue with your words because steam is nearly gushing out of your ears at your next thought. You’re so nervous that you can’t even think.
“I’ll love it because I love you!” Bokuto pushes his lips out towards you, much like he is expecting a kiss and you fail to hide your wince. “Want me to turn the light off, babe?” At your beck and call, Bokuto is already up off his bed and standing beside the light switch. “I have a nightlight so you won’t get scared.”
“S-sure, let’s start with that.” You can’t hide how shaky your voice is and Bokuto softly walks back up to the bed before settling between your thighs.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take extra care of you. I’ll be gentle!” Bokuto promises but a moment later he practically rips your shirt off your thighs. “Sorry, baby.” You nearly melt at the sweet pet nickname.
“It’s okay, Kou.” You soothe over, you can feel Bokuto nodding as his breath hits your exposed core. A tiny gasp leaves your lips at the sensation and this only fuels Bokuto to go even further. “Oh,” When his tongue licks up your slit, you shiver. The warmth and heat from his mouth causes you to squirm against the sheets. Bokuto holds you still with a strong hold on your hips, his grip is gentle just as he promised. Despite not being able to see anything you can still feel his lips on you, placing gentle kisses anywhere he can reach. The thought of what he is doing makes you feel hot all over and when he finally touches your clit, you’re ready to combust. Bokuto moans against you and you can hear the way he greedily swallows everything, even in the dark you can see how bright his eyes shine.
“You’re so pretty, (Y/N). Fuck, you drive me insane.”
Kozume Kenma
Kenma is such a sweetie, please my mind is full of Kenma and Kenma only because of the latest episode
He is just as shy as you are so he definitely knows how you’re feeling
Kenma will screech internally anytime you get close to his dick, baby boy is too flustered
It’s such a cute experience to see his cheeks bright red and a little blush covering his nose as he tries to explain innocently that he wants to eat you out until you can’t walk </3
Kenma will do whatever you want to help you feel comfortable, anything you need he will get it for you!
You want to have the lights off and lay under a blanket? That’s fine, Kenma is ready to go out between your thighs
You want to keep your clothes on? Kenma will be in an outdoor coat to make you feel more comfortable
He will try to reassure you that it’s a new experience for the both of you, there’s nothing to be worried about
Again,,, Kenma is just as anxious and nervous as you are~ It’s sweet
As much as a softie Kenma looks, I can’t help but wonder how long he will be able to hold himself back from what he truly wants~ wink wink
Kenma moans against your lips, his hands are placed safely on your hips as you grind against him on the couch. Your lips move together effortlessly, meeting each other in a firm and heated kiss. Your boyfriend trails his hand up your back and fists it at the base of your hair before gently pulling. The action makes a high-pitched gasp leave your lips and Kenma takes the opportunity to gently bite down on your lip. He loves to toy with you, alternating between sucking and biting on your lip. Sometimes he likes to lick it too. 
Once he is finished, and your lips are swollen, he pulls away with a quiet pop before going back to licking the inside of your mouth. His confidence makes you breathless, he knows exactly what to do and isn’t afraid to experiment with any of his actions. He starts sucking on your tongue, massaging it with his own, anything he can do to make you melt into a puddle for him.
“(Y/N),” He finally pulls away and brushes his lips against yours, still holding you tightly against his own chest. Kenma nearly mewls when you roll your hips against his, applying enough pressure to make him squirm. “can we try something?” Kenma’s eyes flicker open and stare you down, once he sees you nod he pushes you back down against the couch. You stare up at him with wide eyes, all too nervous about what he is planning to do. You can practically hear your heart in your ears. “I want to…” He pauses and searches for the next words he wants to say. In the time of his brief silence, Kenma pulls his hair back into a low bun. “Can I eat you out?”
Your jaw drops at his question.
“Like,” You motion down to between your thighs, and Kenma nods, the determination in his eyes makes you want to freeze. “right now?”
“Only if you’re comfortable,” Kenma responds, toying with the strands of your soft shorts. He patiently waits for your consent, twirling the laces around his fingers.
“Can I leave my shirt on?” Your voice comes out timid and Kenma watches you avoid eye contact with him.
“We can do anything that you want, (Y/N). Tell me and I’ll do it. Is this okay?” Kenma nearly word vomits when he notices your slight excitement in your voice. You nod at him again and Kenma has to hold himself back from taking your pants off right then and there. “So tell me.”
“It’s okay, Kenma. Go ahead.” You tell him gently and Kenma rises up from your legs for a brief second, he lowers his face to kiss you once more. This is a much softer and innocent kiss. Your chest tightens at the contrast with what you’re about to do.
“I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
Kuroo Tetsurou
Everyone, including myself, loves to make Kuroo out as this super flirty smooth guy right? And he is, don’t get me wrong but!!!! I think he also is a big dork!
What I mean by that is, with the scorpio power, Kuroo will naturally be smooth and ready to speak honey-like words into your ear
But then the second he becomes flustered, he is flustered as hell…. He might just be even more flustered than you are
If you’re feeling shy about oral, Kuroo will try to hype you up!
And it will come out very….. awkward,,, it’s almost like he’s talking to his team on the court
Honestly, this is so funny and endearing that it’ll make you feel ten times more at ease
Kuroo will be very hesitant in his actions, making sure you are comfortable with everything he does
But then it gets to the point that he wants his entire face soaked by your…. You know HAHAH
Yeah,, Kuroo is a horny dork…. What else can I say? It might be awkward at first but once he gets into it >:-) He is in the zone
There will never be a moment where you can be shy with Kuroo, he always makes you feel comfortable and at ease!
“So,” Kuroo starts, playing with the line of your panties. He is gently fingering it with his large fingers and at one point he accidentally snaps it against your skin. “oh shit, sorry.” Kuroo smiles sheepishly up at you before gently kissing the spot where he hit. It didn’t hurt at all but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that.
“So,” You try to clear your throat, your mouth is dry because of the sight in front of you. Your gorgeous boyfriend, who is currently shirtless, kneeling between your legs makes your knees feel weak. “Kuroo.” 
“(Y/N)…” Kuroo drawls back and pushes your thighs open against the sheets. “I like the shirt you have on.” You glance down at the shirt and notice the lame science joke on it.
“It is your shirt, Kuroo.” You tease back and Kuroo tenses up and tries to preoccupy himself by stroking your inner thigh.
“Yup, it is.” His answer cause a frown to draw on your lips.
“Kuroo, what’s wrong?” You try to sit up but Kuroo pushes you back against the pillows. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah! I-I’m fine!” Your boyfriend’s voice cracks loudly and he tries to cover it by placing his hand over his chest.
“You seem more nervous than I am.” You once again try to tease him, get him to show you that cute and annoying grin that you love so much.
“I’m not nervous,” Kuroo tries to scoff and immediately grabs your ass to pull your core directly to his mouth. He pushes your thighs so they’re draped over his shoulder and encasing his head. “why would I be nervous?” He sputters and now you want to scoff, leave it to Kuroo to get competitively riled up.
“I don’t know,” You respond back softly and Kuroo sighs against your skin, he presses a warm kiss to your clit over your underwear and a whine leaves your throat.
“You can count on me.” He mumbles into your panties before he starts licking over the material.
“What- Ah,” Your sudden confusion quickly evaporates into a need for Kuroo. His wet tongue makes you wither against the sheets, the damp material of your panties show how much you both are into it. “Tetsurou~” You suddenly grabs a fistful of his hair and pull at the base tightly. Kuroo moans loudly at that, pushing your panties away before encasing your clit between his lips. He toys with the tiny bud in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and swallowing as much as he can. The soft motions make you fall weak, he’s sucking on your clit so earnestly.
“You’re doing so good, so good.” You praise and Kuroo happily groans at this, continuing to let his chin get absolutely soaked by your cunt. “Eat my pussy, Tetsurou.”
Tsukishima Kei
… Tsukishima,,, what can I say about this mf. He will clown you into feeling more comfortable
Please, he will act so uninterested like he doesn’t spend every day jerking off to the thought of eating you out
This bitch will be like ‘I mean if it’s what you want to do’ but when Tsukki starts to notice that you’re feeling shy,,,, his personality will flip
His heart will literally start to malfunction and skip beats, he’s like fuck my kokoro
You being shy will mess with his head and you will definitely be able to see the blush forming on his cheeks
He tries to act all confident like he is the best pussy eater in the world just to show off because he wants you to be withering in anticipation 
Honestly…. He might be? I feel like this bitch can read and then automatically do something… Go Tsukki! Go Tsukki!
Tsukishima would be very considerate of your feelings and comfort you while still calling you mean names,, it’s sweet
He wants you to relax so he can go HAM,, he is ready to devour YOU!! Omg too excited there hehe
Really though,,, Tsukki will take such good care of you and your feelings. He wants his cute little princess to feel good~
Tsukishima can almost fucking taste it, his mouth is watering at the sight. He is so close and you’re right there laid out so nicely for him, how can he not-
“Tsukki,” You quietly call out to your boyfriend as you shake his shoulder. Tsukishima groans and buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck, unknowingly grinding his boner into your hip. “TsukkI!” You squeak and start to pinch his cheeks. This time the blonde lets out an annoyed groan and tries to move once more, applying more pressure that results in a moan to leave your lips. “You! You’re-“ You fumble with your words and it makes Tsukishima curse under his breath.
In a flash, he grabs your hands and pins them above your head before shuffling on top of you. One of his knees is settled between your thighs and you glance between his obviously hard cock in his boxers and his angry eyes.
“Why did you wake me up?” Tsukki grits his teeth in annoyance, glaring down at you harshly. All he wanted to do was take a fucking nap.
“Y-You were making noises and I thought you were having a nightmare.” Your innocence makes his anger melt away and he sighs before laying back down on top of you. “I’m sorry, Kei.” Your hands soon find a home in his hair and gently thread the strands as an idea pops up in your head. “I’ll make it up to you!” Tsukishima smirks up at you with this one.
“Oh, you will?” He murmurs against your chest and you nod, squeezing your legs together at the feeling of his cock against your inner thigh. “I got something for you then,” You’re ready to shift positions and get on top of him but Tsukishima instead lowers himself to between your thighs.
“W-wait,” Tsukishima ignores you and continues descending past your hips and pulling your sleep shorts on the way down. “you don’t have to!”
“I want to, idiot.” Tsukishima tries not to rush himself, he really doesn’t want to, but he finds it hard not to do so. Finally, his ultimate wet dream is happening.
“I-I’m shy!” You squeak and Tsukishima stares up at you blankly, he won’t waste trivial time on this.
“Can I or not? I’ll respect whatever you choose, princess.” The familiar nickname makes you melt and as soon as you swallow your nerves and nod, Tsukishima is on you. He moans immediately at the taste and swallows it all, using his tongue to explore every part he can reach. You nearly screech when he dives his tongue into your slit, fucking you rougher than you could’ve imagined.
“Thank you, Kei!” You choke and lurch forward, gripping his hair tightly into your hands. Tsukishima continues to watch your every expression, memorizing it for his own selfish needs. He can’t help but mutter against your clit.
“No, thank you angel.”
@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @ylxxia @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @chuuyasbunny @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee @miyaxs @badboysdoitbetter2​ @blossoms-nursery @bibliophile221b @curiouslilbeast @sepirayanii​ @apollochjld​ @jojoforthesoul​ @kiyoojima​ @kit-tea @my3ammadness @miamiya​ @tnu-ree​ @yatogamisenpai​ @lollyzen​ @differentballooncollection​ @ynjimenez​ @therainroguefanfiction​ @cutiekawa​ @ohbyunhunn​ @i-will-eat-your-trousers​ @virqgo @thelilyflowersworld​
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luvdsc · 7 months ago
pussy blocked.
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Y/N’s unofficial guide on how to be a heartbreaker:
1. have fun. 2. never stay the night. 3. always be the first one to leave. 4. never hook up with the same person twice. 5. don’t fall in love with boys like lee jeno.
pairing :: lee jeno x reader genre :: angst, comedy, fluff ⋮ fuckboy/girl + college au word count :: 31,360 words warnings :: y/n has a breakdown at one point, dick jokes, sexual innuendos, implied sex but it’s like a romcom movie where we skip to the morning after because i don’t write about places where the sun doesn’t shine, and of course it’s not a luvdsc fic without a whole bunch of mutual pining playlist :: break my heart (hey violet) ⋆ lowkey (niki) ⋆ pancakes (lany) ⋆ i left a party for you (pilar victoria) ⋆ blurry (jp saxe) ⋆ slow (shy martin) ⋆ we’re fucked, it’s fine (jeremy zucker) ⋆ happiness (taylor swift) ⋆ this is how you fall in love (jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: this is me putting my biggest fears on blast :’) ty to ti @m88n, steph @aqiaquas, tk god @eggyukhei, and lana @choerrypuffs for being my biggest cheerleaders !!! and especially to @wincore​ thank you for listening to all my incoherent ramblings and ideas and accepting it all within an hour of us starting to talk LOL ily moon ♡
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i. the devil wears leather jackets.
“Thoughts on leather jackets?”
Yeeun hoists herself onto the scratched counter of the tiny bathroom, cheap neon strips of flashing lights pasted around the edges of the ceiling and the booming bass of the music barely muffled by the closed door. She swings her legs, the heels of her boots banging lightly against the cabinet beneath her.
“They’re cute. Why? Don’t you already have like, three of them?” Your fingers curl around the lip gloss your best friend offers to you. You thank her before you lean forward, uncapping the makeup and spreading an even, glossy coat over your lips.
“Not on me!” She taps her manicured fingers against her thigh rhythmically. “Actually, maybe on me. There’s a really good sale going on at Madewell right now. Maybe I’ll get one.”
“Another night of drunk retail therapy?” You pucker your lips, angling your face slightly to check that you had applied enough of the shimmery gloss. You quickly adjust the satin white crop top you have on that makes your boobs look phenomenal. Perfect. It’s the first party of your final year at university, and you would very much like to start it off with a bang and leave with a cute guy tonight.
“Sober me will thank me tomorrow.” She waves her hand dismissively before taking back the gloss from you and shoving it unceremoniously into her bra (because one hand holding a purse means one less hand holding a drink) before pushing herself off from her counter perch. “Anyway, you’re missing the point! What do you think of boys in leather jackets?”
You narrow your eyes at her, scrutinizing her fidgeting figure through the mirror. “Alright, spill it. Who’s this about?”
“I overheard Mark telling Yukhei that Jeno was asking about you.”
You temporarily pause in place, horror flashbacks already playing like a montage at the mention of him, before facing your friend, who’s already looking at you expectantly. “Did he say why?”
“Who knows? He started throwing up on Yukhei’s shoes, so I had to move away from the target zone.”
You wince at that. Poor Mark was always a lightweight and yet, he always accepts whatever drink Donghyuck hands him. And the latter always mixes concoctions with cheap vodka making up at least 40% of the contents.
“Isn’t this exciting though? The Lee Jeno is interested in you,” she squeals, grabbing onto your arm excitedly.
“I’ve been there. Freshman year, two minutes and beard burn. Literally, the worst experience of my life. Zero out of ten, no stars on Yelp, would swipe left on Tinder, maybe even report him to save other people from the horror.”
“Okay, some points were made, but he must’ve gotten better, right? It’s been like three years. Unless he paid all those girls to talk about his dick game.” She taps her finger against her chin, pondering thoughtfully. “You know, I feel like that’s what Jaemin does. Like he seriously can’t be that great, but I hear a different girl gush about him in every class.”
“No, I can confirm. Jaemin’s a sweetheart. He gave me a water bottle and Advil on the way out. He even made me breakfast before I left. Honestly, I would hook up with him again just for those blueberry pancakes.” You turn and twist the doorknob open. “Anyway, it’s a big house. I doubt I’ll run into hi—”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear in all his leather clad, silver necklace and rings, low dipping shirt, and black ripped skinny jeans glory.
Lee Jeno: the walking cliché of every teenage girl’s wildest dreams and every mother’s nightmare. He’s living, breathing proof that bad boys who wear the typical leather jacket and drive a sleek car with one hand on the steering wheel, but also have a hidden soft side (because you caught him smuggling a stray cat into his dorm once during sophomore year) actually exist. It’s Lee Jeno with a different girl wrapped around his finger every night or morning or even sometimes mid-afternoon; Lee Jeno with his pretty eye smile that can make anyone swoon; Lee Jeno with his classic fuckboy tendencies that you cannot understand for the life of you why so many girls, and even some boys, fall for so willingly.
Or for you, Lee Jeno: the boy who was your first and absolute worst hookup way back in freshman year. It’s more like a burning, fiery meteor crash landing than a pleasant stroll down memory lane when you think of him. He’s the reason you desperately wished you listened to Jennie when she told you to find an older, more experienced boy to have your first college hookup with, and not a fellow lowly freshman. In your defense, upperclassmen were big and scary, and Jeno—the cute boy from one of your classes who was showing you pictures of his three cats back home and profusely sweating away in his leather jacket because he wanted to look cool at his first frat party—seemed relatively harmless that night.
You were sorely mistaken. Literally. That memory still gives you PTSD. You had the stache rash, beard burn, whatever you want to call it, to prove it. To put it lightly, it felt like razor burns in the most unpleasant intimate places because a certain someone didn’t think having stubble (which he was weirdly proud of) would make a difference. It sure as hell made all the difference because those two minutes were the most miserable two minutes of your entire twenty-two years of life. Not even the seven Jell-o shots you had before that could help.
Even worse, he didn’t even make you see stars, not even a single damn measly one, but for once, you were thanking the gods for the short timing that night. He certainly made quite the impression in only 120 seconds. And to top it off, he didn’t even call you after that night.
So yeah, you aren’t really a fan of the guy. No matter how stupidly attractive he still is. Especially when he dons his stupid leather jacket. The one he let you borrow that same night after he spilled jungle juice on you. And the very same one he’s wearing right now.
“Y/N.” Jeno cocks his head to the side, the corners of his lips quirking up into an all too familiar smirk. “I was just looking for you.”
“I didn’t know we were playing hide and seek, but congrats, you found me.” You start to brush past him, motioning for Yeeun to help you make a quick getaway.
“Wait, can we talk?” His hand reaches out to circle your wrist, and you stop.
“About what?” You say flatly, shaking his arm away, and from the corner of your eye, you can see Yeeun quietly creeping away. She gives you a thumbs up and a wink as you desperately try to signal for her to come back, but to no avail.
“How’s Hyunjin?” he asks abruptly, and you raise an eyebrow at him before shrugging. “Who knows? We broke up two months ago.”
“Oh, really? My condolences.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “At least try to sound a little more sincere than that. Why are you asking anyway? What do you want, Jeno?”
“Let’s fuck.”
If you were taking a sip of one of Donghyuck’s cursed drinks right now, you would have accidentally spat it out right in his face. And then tossed the rest of it onto him on purpose.
“Wow, is this how you get all the girls into your bed? Real charming,” you say, sarcasm dripping off of every word. It’s a wonder how your panties didn’t just magically drop with such a romantic offer.
“You asked what I wanted,” He replies, trailing behind you closely as you weave through the dancing bodies and make your way to the kitchen. Lord knows you’re gonna need a drink if he insists on continuing this conversation. “So that’s one of my points. The other point might need a few minutes, depending on your answer.”
“Your dick is rated e for everyone, and I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole.”
“That’s okay, you can use your mouth instead. I’m not picky.”
“Oh my god.” You nearly choke at that, and Jeno has a massive grin on his face, looking like the cat that ate the canary. You immediately proceed to give him a different type of bird, and he laughs.
“You're hot, I’m hot, we’re both single, and I know you aren’t batshit crazy, so why not?”
“How do you know I’m not crazy?”
“You never mass publicized our uh, you know…”
“The razor burn fiasco?” You stop at the drinks counter, crossing your arms over your chest, and he grimaces, throwing his hands up in defense.
“Okay, was it really that bad? I didn’t think it was.”
“Take a cheese grater and drag your dick across it, and then you can get back to me on that question. And you only lasted two minutes. You should probably report that to the Guinness world record people.”
“That was freshman year, and I’ve gotten tons of practice now.” He flippantly dismisses your previous statement and gives you a cocky smile, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
“With who? Your hand?” You scoff, grabbing an empty red cup that looks relatively clean before pouring a little vodka and some orange juice into it. You take a sip of it cautiously, wrinkling your nose at the aftertaste. Yeah, that cup wasn’t clean at all, and you’re hit with the gross taste of cheap beer.
Jeno notices and grabs the cup from you, rummaging through the fridge to pull out a couple Jell-O shots and handing them to you. He downs your discarded drink as you eye the jiggly alcohol skeptically.
“You like those, right? I remember you had a bunch of them back then.” He shrugs, and you feel oddly touched that he would actually remember your drink preference. Of course, it’s not like the options were that vast at a college party. It’s either beer, vodka, a mix of it all, or Jell-o. But still.
Oh god, you can’t believe this is what your inner monologue is saying. Are you really swooning over a guy who knows what drink you like? The bar for men has really been set too low. The bar may not be your son, but you desperately need to raise it. Plus, you definitely weren’t going to tell him the only reason you kept taking those shots on that fateful night was because you were nervous and he was cute.
“Yeah, I like them, thanks,” you mutter before swirling your finger around the edges of the disposable container and tossing the contents into your mouth. You throw the empty plastic into the nearest trash bag tied to one of the cupboard handles.
“So I heard you were looking for me,” you start as you prepare another Jell-O shot. “And I highly doubt it’s just because you want to fuck. So why?”
“Just thought it’d be fun. For old times’ sake, right?”
“Bullshit. Everyone knows you and Jaemin have that messed up body count competition going on. You do know that you have to sleep with someone new to increase that, right?” You maneuver yourself around to the other side of the counter to take a handful of chips.
“Yes, I am well aware, thank you.” His eyes follow you as he leans against the counter, fishing out from the large plastic bowl one of the individually wrapped chocolate candies Jaemin impulsively bought at the Target sale.
“What’s the real reason, Jeno?” You stare at him, cocking your head to the side. “You can’t possibly tell me it’s because I gave you the best blow job you ever had because eighteen year old me definitely wasn’t that good at it yet.”
He laughs at that, teeth flashing as his lips pull into a genuine smile for once, and you have to hide your own. God, this is why girls get hung over cute boys, isn’t it? Light travels faster than the speed of sound, and you’re getting sucked into how pretty his smile is until he opens his mouth and ruins it all.
“Fine. Real reason, honest to god. You’re the only one who got a shit experience. My track record is perfect, except for you, and it bothers me.”
“So you’re saying your ego is so massive that you can’t jack off properly unless you know you rocked every girl’s world?” You wrinkle your nose, an expression of disbelief written all over your face.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Oh my god, you’re such an asshole.”
“Hey, I’m an honest asshole. I’m not stringing along anyone or pretending to be interested just to get into someone’s pants. They all know it’s just a one night deal, and they’re fine with it. Or more than fine actually.” He winks at you, and you fake gag.
“You’re telling me that all those girls were satisfied?”
“Hey, babe,” he calls out to a pretty girl dancing near the doorway to the living room. She turns to face the two of you, and eyes slightly widening, you recognize her as Sei from your Sustainable Operation Management class. You always thought she was a little more on the uptight side, but apparently not. “How was your experience with me? Scale of one to ten.”
“Oh, ten,” she says immediately before turning to you. “Jeno does this amazing move with his tongue where he—”
“Okay, thank you, I will never be drunk enough to hear about your sexcapades in detail.” You take a vodka shot, hoping its effects will hit you fast soon.
“Thanks, babe.” He winks at her, and she nods, blowing him a kiss before tipsily swaying out the door again. He faces you again with a cocky expression. “Wanna hear a review from someone else with personal experience?”
“No. And ‘babe’? Really?”
“You don’t have to remember their name if you call them all the same thing,” he says nonchalantly, pouring himself another cup of beer, and you frown at him, a nasty look of disgust emerging on your face.
“If that’s supposed to make me want to sleep with you, you’re way off, babe.”
“That doesn’t work because I know you know my name, Y/N.”
Scoffing, you start your walk towards the living room in search of Yeeun. She has the car keys, and you’re ready to go back to your shared apartment and crash. Plus, the carton of Ben and Jerry’s in your freezer back home is really calling your name right about now.
Jeno follows behind you closely, and when you suddenly pause and turn to face him, you catch him off guard. He bumps into you, and the contents of his solo cup sloshes onto the front of your shirt.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he panics, putting the cup down somewhere before frantically looking around for napkins or towels, literally anything to wipe it off, but comes up empty handed.
Fan-freaking-tastic. This feels exactly like how your first night with him started, but this time, you’re going to have to take your shirt off for the wrong reason.
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ii. hey send pussy pics (read at 2:32 a.m.)
The two of you end up back in square one, standing in the same cramped bathroom once more as Jeno insists on wetting some paper towels for you and helping you clean up the alcohol soaked shirt that was unpleasantly sticking against your skin.
“Didn't you pour your drink on me last time, too?” You peel off your shirt, balling it up and running it under the faucet. “You know, if you wanted me to take off my clothes, you didn’t have to go this far.”
His eyes grow wide as he splutters, “I didn’t do it on purpose! I’m sorry! I swear, it was an accident—!”
“Relax, I’m just joking.” You grin at him, feeling a little endeared at his response (Perhaps, it reminds you of freshman Jeno. You miss that cat loving dude. Too bad he’s after a different kind of cat now). He lets out an audible sigh of relief, and you laugh. “Can you hold this? I wanna wipe off the rest that’s on my skin. It’s kinda feeling gross and sticky.”
“Why does this vaguely sound like a conversation we had before?” He hands you the paper towels and grabs your shirt, beginning to scrub out the stain. You can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in your throat again as you try to clean yourself up as best as possible.
“So do you still pick up girls by showing them pictures of Bongsik, Seol, and Nal?”
Jeno pauses, shifting to look over at you, and says softly, “You remember their names?”
“You can’t expect me to not know their names after looking at pics of them for over an hour,” you answer, huffing slightly when you see that the beer stained one of the front pockets of your jeans. You’re going to have to see if you can borrow Tzuyu’s Tide pen tomorrow and scrub it out. There’s no way you’re going to walk to the laundromat tomorrow morning and spend $2.25 in quarters just to wash a single pair of pants. Even if it’s your favorite pair that makes your butt look like a million bucks.
“How are they doing anyway? Does Bongsik still bully Nal?”
“Yes,” he snorts, holding up your soaked shirt after wringing it out. You reach for the hair dryer in the bottom cabinet and plug it in before directing the hot air towards the wet fabric. “She acts like she hates him, but my mom sent me pictures of them napping together in front of the window.”
“I remember you promised me you’d send me pics of them, but you never did,” you mention, pouting slightly. “I was really looking forward to those.”
“I mean, I was going to, but…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry, I guess I must’ve forgotten.”
“Yeah, like you forgot to call me the next day,” you mutter offhandedly. If Jeno had heard your remark over the loud whirring of the hair dryer, he certainly didn’t say anything about it. The two of you stand there quietly, conversation coming to an awkward standstill at that.
“I think this is the best it’s gonna get,” he says awkwardly ten minutes later after the dryer gives out a few last dying splutters. Your shirt still looks somewhat damp, but you suppose he’s right, judging by the way the blow dryer seems to be taking its last dying breath.
“Yeah, I guess so,” you sigh, staring at your shirt. Wearing a white top doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore, seeing how your bright red bra would be completely visible underneath the fabric, almost glowing like how anything white stands out under a black light. “I think I’m just gonna head ho—”
The banging on the door cuts you off, and you and Jeno nearly jump at the sudden noise. You reach over and open the door, and Mark nearly topples over on you.
“Sorry, I just needed to take a pis—Y/N?” His eyes grow round when he sees his friend behind you. “Holy shit, were you two—?”
“No!” you shout, shaking your head vehemently until Mark’s eyes darts towards your shirt in Jeno’s hand and then to your shirtless torso. You immediately cross your arms over your chest, and Jeno takes a step forward to cover your figure.
Mark’s cheeks grow red at an alarmingly fast pace, and he stumbles back, averting his eyes to the ceiling. “Fuck, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see anything!”
“No, wait—”
The sound of Mark blindly grabbing for the door and slamming it shut interrupts you, and you’re left standing there, cheeks growing warmer by the second and mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Oh my god, now he thinks we’re hooking up, and he’s gonna tell everyone,” you wail, wringing your hands. Jeno awkwardly hands you your shirt, and you put it on dejectedly.
“I don’t think he’ll tell anyone,” Jeno halfheartedly attempts to reassure you, but your glare shuts him down quickly. Even he knows that’s a lie.
“Mark is a blabbermouth, and he’s drunk. That’s the worst Mark combination you can possibly have.”
“We can just do it, so it’s true.”
“Can you think with your head up there, instead of the one down there for once?” You snap before rubbing your temples. “Plus, I have standards and a reputation to uphold, you know. The Iota Theta girls would kill me.”
“Hey, I’m a real catch.”
“Yeah, I’m not trying to catch the clap here.”
“For your information, I’m clean,” Jeno scowls at you, shoving his hands into his pockets, “We all know what safe sex is. This isn’t high school.”
“Thank god, having more of you running around sounds like my worst nightmare.”
Jeno starts to protest, but your phone goes off with a loud ping! in your back pocket, and you pull it out. You must have forgotten to change it to silent mode earlier. A text from Yeeun only dampens your mood even more than your shirt does because apparently, she’s gone back to some guy named Yugyeom’s place. Now, you’re all for your best friend getting some, but she seems to have forgotten that her bra holds the keys to the car amongst other things, leaving you stranded out here in the Nu Chi Theta house (Also, Yugyeom is certainly in for a surprise when the bra comes off).
“Yeeun took off with some dude, and she has the car keys,” you sigh, pulling up the car service app. “I’m gonna get an Uber and call it a night.”
Jeno grabs your hand before you can tap to accept a ride. “Wait, are you gonna Uber alone?”
“No, Casper the friendly ghost is gonna do a rideshare with me, too.” You shrug off his hand, and he groans in frustration, carding his fingers through his hair.
“No, I’m being serious. You can’t get in an Uber alone in a wet shirt at 2 in the morning. The driver could be a creep, and that just isn’t safe at all.”
He’s right, you realize, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you are in your state of dress and how stupid you would’ve been to do that. All those years of watching Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, and you had learned absolutely nothing. Olivia Benson would be shaking her head at you right now. You can already hear the funky mystery music theme song playing.
“Okay, then what do you want me to do? Walk home? My other friends are all probably wasted by now.”
“I’ll drive you back.”
“What? No, I can’t let you do that.” You shake your head stubbornly. “I’ll just go and see if I can find Chaeyoung or Yeji and we can walk back together.”
“Pretty sure I saw them both go upstairs with some of my frat bros like thirty minutes ago.” You stay silent at that, and he sighs, exasperated. “Can you just accept my help? Either you can get in my car and I’ll drive you back or you can walk and I’ll look like a creep slowly driving next to you the entire time, but I’m not letting you go back alone because I don’t want to see your face on the 9 o’clock news. I bet you’re gonna come back from the grave and cockblock me for the rest of my life.”
“First off, don’t be so full of yourself. I wouldn’t spend my time watching you bore another girl to death. I’m not into that. Secondly, If I show up on the news, make sure they pick a good picture of me. Preferably one of the cute pics on my insta from Capri,” you inform him, and he makes a noise of disbelief before a hint of a smile breaks through.
“You're unbelievable, you know that? C’mon, I’m driving you back. ” He shakes his head, pulling his car keys from his pocket. You start to open your mouth, and he beats you to it. “And yes, I only had that one drink you made earlier, so it’s safe.”
You close your mouth, slumping your shoulders as you follow behind him. He glances over his shoulder, throwing out casually, “Anyway, I think they should use the picture of you in that French art museum.”
“You mean the Louvre? Wait, have you been stalking me on insta?”
“I mean we follow each other, but sure.” He pushes his way through the crowded living room, and you stick closely behind him, trying to not get jostled too much by the drunken horde of other college students attempting to forget about their C’s on midterms and get laid tonight instead.
“That pic is from two years ago, and you only started following me a couple months ago!”
“Wow, now look at who’s keeping track.”
You let out a huff at that, but have no other response, pursing your lips slightly. When you finally reach the front door and step outside, the breeze that blows by sends shivers up your spine, the freezing weather being exponentially worse with the state of your shirt amping up the coldness. You wrap your arms around yourself, goosebumps forming on your skin as you try to create warmth from friction, rubbing your hands on your arms to no avail.
Suddenly, the welcomed feeling of warmth spreads across you like wildfire, and your eyes widen when you realize that Jeno had wordlessly draped his jacket over your figure before continuing the trek to his car. Hurrying after him, you shove your hands through the sleeves, your fingertips barely peeking out from the ends of it. The jacket envelops you warmly, and you tug the front of it closed to keep your body heat in. Faint traces of Jeno’s cologne clings to it, and you find yourself not minding it at all, pleasantly surprised by the woodsy, but slight citrusy, musky scent.
“Thanks,” you mumble when Jeno pulls open the passenger door for you, and you get in, making yourself comfortable, silently impressed by the neat and clean interior. There’s a cute polaroid of his three cats tucked in the driver’s sun visor. He shuts the door and makes his way to the driver’s side, sliding into the seat and starting the car up. You enter your address into Google maps, waiting for it to finish calculating the route.
The drive is quiet, save for the mellow music Jeno plays on his phone through the aux cord. The lack of conversation is such a stark contrast to before, but you don’t know exactly what to say. You glance over at him, studying his features clad in the passing streetlights.
Jeno is, without a doubt, handsome with his bright eyes framed by the longest lashes that you really wished you had yourself (it’s so unfair how boys always seem to have the prettiest eyelashes), pretty smile that causes those very same eyes to form moon crescents, and obviously, killer body. But most of all, the confidence he practically exudes is a stark contrast to when you had met him all those years ago.
“Enjoying the view?” he says casually, and you roll your eyes, turning your gaze to the road in front of you as he laughs.
“I’m just trying to figure out how you managed to get all those girls in bed.” You fiddle with the zipper of his jacket absentmindedly, and he glanced over at you.
“I asked them nicely.”
You snort. “Oh, really? And it worked?”
“I think my record speaks for itself.”
You sneer at that, but say no more. He taps his fingers against his thigh, while his other hand firmly holds onto the steering wheel. You briefly wonder why that move is found to be universally attractive, especially if the guy puts his hand on your thigh. Maybe all girls’ brains were hardwired to think that way.
Your phone announces that you have arrived at your destination, and you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out of the car and turning to say thanks, before hesitating to close the car door when you realize Jeno’s leather jacket is still draped around your figure. Your hand hovers over the door handle before you pull back and start to take off the outerwear.
“Keep it,” Jeno says, noticing your dilemma. “Wouldn’t want you catching hypothermia. You can just give it back to me some other time.”
“The apartment building’s door is right there. I’m not gonna catch a cold after being out here for ten seconds,” you reason, starting to slide off one sleeve.
“Yeah, but this gives me an excuse to see you again.”
You freeze, face warming up at the unexpected answer. Your mind nearly short circuits, and you are at a loss of words for the first time tonight, mouth popping open in surprise. Jeno looks rather satisfied at your reaction, and he reaches over to shut the passenger door and then rolls down the window with a grin.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow with my jacket, yeah? I’ll text you my address.”
“W-wait, do you even have my number?” you manage to stammer out at last, and his smile widens even more.
“You gave it to me already, didn’t you?” Your eyes widen slightly, and he laughs, “You should go inside now. It’s cold.”
Speechless, all you can do is numbly wave at him before running towards the apartment complex’s entrance. When you make it inside the building, you turn to see Jeno still waiting out there. He waves at you before driving away. Cheeks growing warm, you turn away and make your way to your apartment.
Later, before you finally go to bed, you notice the barrage of notifications you received, specifically three texts from an unknown number.
[ 4:23 a.m. ] xxx-423-2508: 727 Maisie Street, Apartment #22
[ 4:24 a.m. ] xxx-423-2508: {image.jpeg}
[ 4:24 a.m. ] xxx-423-2508: bongsik, seol, and nal say good night :)
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iii. return of the pancakes™
After your 8 a.m. Linux Analysis and Design class, you drop by Jeno’s apartment, the borrowed leather jacket folded over your arm. You vaguely remember coming here during your sophomore year spring semester at the end of the whole Greek row carnival fundraiser week, but for a different boy entirely.
You knock on the door, shifting from one foot to the other as you wait for someone to answer. It finally opens, and Jaemin is looking at you with a wide grin on his face (honestly, it’s a little unsettling how perfect his smile is).
“Hello, Y/N, fancy seeing you here,” he greets you, leaning the door frame, spatula in hand and a flowery “Kiss The Cook” apron tied around his waist (it was a joke gift from Jisung, who doesn’t find it so funny anymore after Jaemin keeps demanding kisses every time he wears it within his vicinity).
“Uh, hi, Jaemin, I just wanted to return Jeno’s jacket.” You lift up your hand to show off the outerwear as if to emphasize your point. “I’ll just… leave this here with you, and can you give it back to him?”
“Woah, woah, what’s the rush? You should come in and give it to him yourself.” Jaemin wriggles his eyebrows at you, and you’re a little taken aback. How does this dude have this much energy to flirt or do whatever the hell he’s doing at 9:45 in the morning? You’re not even fully awake until after lunch and your daily gym session with Soyeon later.
“Uh, you know what, it might be easier if I just drop it off and leave.” You try to hand it off and back away all at the same time.
“I’m making pancakes,” Jaemin says suddenly before gesturing towards the kitchen. “Do you want some?”
“Ah, no, I really should… God damn it, yeah, I really do want some,” you answer, defeated, as you trudge into their apartment, following Jaemin inside. You raise an eyebrow when you see Jaemin essentially twirl his way back into the kitchen area.
“Great! So do you want chocolate chips, blueberries, or plain?” He asks, turning up his kilowatt smile to an even brighter notch. He putters around the stove, flipping the current pancake smoothly and onto the plate. If you weren’t so sleep deprived, that move might have made you a little turned on. Guys who cook are honestly so attractive. No, wait, correction: guys who cook well are hot (Sorry, Mark).
“Chocolate chip, please.” You sit at their tiny kitchen table, crossing your legs and resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “So where's the girl?”
Jaemin chuckles, eyes sparkling, as he pours some batter into the pan and tosses on some chocolate chips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Please, we all know you make pancakes in the morning after a one night stand. I even have firsthand experience.”
“I make them whenever a girl’s here in the morning. And there’s one here right now.” He winks at you, placing a perfect chocolate chip pancake in front of you. “Maple syrup is on the counter, and butter and whipped cream are in the fridge.”
You grab all the toppings from their respective places and bring them back to the table. “Did Jeno tell you I was stopping by?”
“Of course he did,” Jaemin snorts, rotating the pan to evenly spread out the batter. “Jeno tells me everything.”
You spread the butter evenly across the pancake before drizzling on some syrup. Cutting up a piece, you spear it with your fork and almost moan out loud when you take the first bite. “So is this about—holy crap, this is so good—the body count thing? I tried to explain to him that he can’t count it twice if he fucks the same person again.”
“What? No, this isn’t about—Okay, let’s just say this. Jeno is an emotionally constipated asshole, but he’s still a good asshole.” Jaemin slides the spatula under the pancake, flipping it over neatly before shaking the pan lightly.
“A good asshole, wha—Wait, what does this have to do with anything?” You furrow your eyebrows, confused, as you take another bite of the pancake. “What are you even talking about?”
“He’s…” He sighs, leaning the spatula against an empty plate before he runs his hand through his hair frustratedly. “At this point, he only knows how to speak fratboy, so it’s confusing and he’s a little dumb sometimes, but he actually l—”
“Who the hell are you talking t—Oh. Y/N. Hi.” Jeno emerges from his room, eyes widening when he realizes you’re sitting at the kitchen table, happily eating the second pancake Jaemin just made for you.
“Hey.” You wave at him before motioning towards the jacket you draped over the couch. “I brought your jacket back. And then Jaemin lured me in with his pancakes—-and before you say it, I’m not talking about his ass.”
Jeno snorts loudly as Jaemin lets out a noise of offense, previous conversation now forgotten. “You come into my home where I’m making you free pancakes, and you have the audacity to insult my ass. My ass is beautiful and shapely and perfect.”
“Yeah, okay, Jaemin. If I ever need a flat surface to write on, I’ll be sure to call you.” You munch on the rest of your pancake, ignoring the sounds of indignation coming from the aforementioned boy. “Anyway, nice boxers, Jeno.”
The feline patterned boxers with the words “PUSSY MAGNET” painted right across the crotch area has you struggling to keep a straight face, and Jeno suddenly feels very exposed, even though everyone in the room has already seen him naked before. He throws his hands up to cover his bare chest and then his lower region, struggling and wishing that he slept with a shirt and sweatpants on for once.
Cheeks quickly turning a brilliant shade of red, Jeno silently curses Renjun for buying these boxers for him during last year’s Secret Santa exchange as a joke. It’s not his fault he was down to his last pair of clean underwear, and this was all that’s left. At least he didn’t decide to sleep in his birthday suit as usual. Actually, now that he thinks about it, that might’ve been the better option.
“I’m gonna… go put on some clothes,” he mutters, quickly retreating back into his room, and you stifle a laugh before focusing your attention back to the chocolate-y goodness in front of you. Na Jaemin truly is a god in the kitchen (and the bedroom, but you would never admit that out loud to his smug, handsome face).
Jaemin’s eyes dart between you and his best friend, the gears quickly turning in his head. It suddenly makes sense why Jeno asked him to make pancakes this morning.
“Y/N,” Jaemin calls out, and you look up at him, tilting your head to the side slightly. He hesitates for a moment. “Just… don’t be too mean to him please.”
Your eyebrows bunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Nevermind, it’s nothing.” He shakes his head, pouring out some more batter and sprinkling on the chocolate chips. “Another pancake?”
He slides another one onto your plate, and your eyes shine at the sight of it. You excitedly add a pat of butter before pouring the syrup and piling on a ton of whipped cream. Wriggling in your seat excitedly, you slice off a bite sized piece. You smile happily at him, and he falters slightly.
“Thank you, Jaemin.”
Seeing the way your eyes light up, Jaemin understands why Jeno likes you so much and is willing to set himself up for heartbreak for a second time with you.
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iv. studying is an abbreviation for ‘student dying’.
“So how’s it going with Jeno?”
You freeze in your seat, stopping midway in calculating the present and future values of stocks. You should’ve known that when Yeeun calls for an emergency study session and books a private room in the library, it would turn into an interrogation time. She even buttered you up beforehand by buying you a passion fruit iced tea lemonade with sweetener and a freshly baked bear claw from the cafe on the first floor. Your best friend in question looks expectantly at you for your answer, while Giselle looks equally as shocked as you.
“You’re dating Jeno?” Your other friend asks incredulously, “Why didn’t you tell me?! Juyeon asked me if you were single, and I said yes.”
“We’re not dating! Yeeun is making a big deal out of nothing,” you protest, resuming your studies as you jot down the final answer in your notebook.
“She’s up at 3 a.m. texting him,” Yeeun spills, looking directly at Giselle and ignoring the indignant look you throw her way. “And she hasn’t booty called Moonbin in the past three weeks.”
“No.” Giselle’s eyes grow round, and she immediately turns to you, abandoning her assignment entirely at this point. “Didn’t you say Moonbin was the best? He’s a dancer, he’s literally so flexible, and I bet he can literally hold you up the entire time, like have you seen his arms? Like oh my god, he’s so hot.”
Yeeun is nodding furiously in agreement, and you fidget in your seat, biting your bottom lip. “I just haven’t had time, and Jeno just texts me cat pictures. It’s no big deal. I’ve been so busy with all the senior projects in all my classes. I have one due soon, and we have to dissect Boeing’s management plans and write up some proposals, but Minho still hasn’t done his part, and the rest of the group are freaking out about it.”
“That’s why you need a little destressing session,” Giselle chimes in before leaning forward and saying in a quieter, teasing voice, “I heard Minho’s a really fun one, too. Maybe you can ask him to come over and work on the project.”
“God, no, I wish, but Hyunjin’s in the same frat and super close with him,” you groan, thinking back to your ex. “Not that I care too much about it, but it just gets way too messy if you sleep with your ex’s friends, y’know? But I can hook up either one of you with him if you want.”
“I can’t. I’m kinda seeing someone,” Yeeun confesses, and you and Giselle immediately whip your heads towards your friend, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
“What? Who? Spill,” you demand, and Giselle nods vigorously in agreement. Yeeun turns pinker, a shy smile appearing on her face as she fiddles with her pen. “Yugyeom and I have been texting more, and we’re planning on getting dinner together later.”
“No way, the dude from the Theta party? You’re still talking to him?”
“I know, I know.” She waves her hand at you. “I thought the same, too, but we actually ended up talking afterwards, and it was nice, so we exchanged numbers, and well, we’re going on an actual dinner date.”
“God, does this mean I’m the only one who’s single now?” Giselle whines, frowning as she turns her attention back to her homework and writes down the next problem a little too hard with her pencil.
“Hey, I’m not dating anyone either,” you say, but the two girls give you a deadpanned look. “I’m not! Jeno and I are just friends. And you already know Hyunjin and I broke up before summer break.”
You also slept with him again a week before the school year started, but that doesn’t count. Hey, you managed to score his old flatscreen for the apartment, and he even helped you carry it up and install it, so Yeeun definitely can’t judge you too hard for it because she’s the one who binges the most dramas out of the two of you (She still occasionally likes to remind you of how you basically fucked him for a tv though). Granted, he might have given it to you under the impression that you would continue to go out with him, but it’s not your fault his mind jumped to those conclusions.
“Right. Friends who slept together before and still have the hots for each other. And go over to each other’s apartment at seven in the morning. You never willingly wake up early for anything.” Yeeun raises an eyebrow at you.
“Okay, first off, I only go over early when Jeno texts me that Jaemin has a girl over because that means he makes pancakes the next morning. Those pancakes are amazing. And secondly, Jaemin has girls over almost every night.” You inform her, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Okay, I can also vouch for the pancakes being good, but they aren’t worth losing an extra hour of sleep everyday. Maybe once a week at most,” Giselle counters, and you scowl at her. She’s really throwing you under the bus here. You’ll remember this the next time she needs your help getting out of a Yeeun-terrogation.
“Weren’t you going out with Chan though?” Yeeun directs her question to Giselle, who scrunches her nose in distaste.
“Don’t remind me, that was a complete disaster.” She rolls her eyes, flicking through her notebook. “He had a complete meltdown in Whole Foods after he told me he loved me two months into our relationship and I wouldn’t say it back. A literal grown man throwing a tantrum in the produce section— it was so embarrassing.”
“Oh my god, he did that? What did you do?” You and Yeeun are absolutely horrified, and you barely manage to get the question out.
“I left as fast as possible. Thank god I was the one who drove us there,” she sighs, shaking her head before slumping back in her seat. “You know what’s worse? I should’ve seen the red flag when he wanted me to call him ‘Dino’ in bed. Like not to judge, but I’m not about to fuck a dude who’s into prehistoric animal play or whatever.”
“God, that’s so terrible, I’m so sorry,” you say at last when you finally get over the shock of this entire train wreck, and Yeeun nods sympathetically. “I can hook you up with some good guys or girls if you want.”
“Mm, I’m not up for anything serious, but just a fun dude for a few times would be nice,” she hums, finishing up another calculus problem and jotting down the next equation. “I’m torn between doing a tinder marathon or calling up Changbin.”
“Wasn’t he the dude who brought you flowers after you hooked up with him in the dorm bathroom?”
“And the common area couch,” she admits guiltily, and your head shoots up so fast at the confession.
“That was you?”
During your freshman year, the RA called an emergency floor meeting because security cameras caught a couple going at it in the common room, specifically on the couch. Luckily for the couple, the university is too cheap to install good cameras, so their faces weren’t caught. Unluckily for the rest of the floor, you all had to shell out forty bucks to pay for a new couch and sterilization of everything else in the room.
“Guilty as charged. He left his Gucci slides in my dorm, and I still have them. Best hookup ever. I didn’t even have to do the walk of shame.” Your friend turns to you, tapping her nails against the table absentmindedly. “Are you going to the Beta Tau Sig party tonight? I think I’ll try to find someone there instead.”
“Actually, Jeno invited me to a beach bonfire, and I said I’d go.”
“So you both have dates tonight,” Giselle sighs, tapping her fingers against the table surface absentmindedly. “I guess I’ll have to drag Karina out with me this time.”
“It’s not a date,” you protest, and Yeeun gives you a look, observing you for a second before a sly smile forms on her face. “So you wouldn’t mind Giselle giving your number to Juyeon?”
“Sure, go for it,” you shrug, picking up your pencil to continue with your assignment. Your phone buzzes. You can see it’s a text from Jeno, and you want to open it, but you don’t. “You know I don’t do relationships, but I’m down for a few drinks or whatever.”
“Really? You sure?” Yeeun prods, and you give her an exasperated look. “Yes! It’s fine.”
“Okay, sent.” Giselle pipes up, waving her phone around for emphasis. Yeeun looks at you, an indescribable look on her face. “Great.”
“Great,” you echo her sentiment before the sudden realization of what you just did finally hits you like a bag of bricks. Great. For some reason, you briefly ponder over what Jeno would think, but then you shake that away and try to refocus on calculating stock dividends and EPS.
Earnings per share.
When you finally open up his text message and see it’s a picture of him and Yangyang’s cats, you wonder how many cat pictures it took for Jeno to earn a share of your affections. You lost count sometime after you created a specific album for them on your phone.
Or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge how fast he was growing on you, like the exponential curve on an economic business cycle. Except that once it hits its peak, it will inevitably lead to a recession, or worse, a depression.
Hurriedly, you push that thought away into the farthest crevice of your mind, sending back a slew of heart and cat emojis back before turning your phone face down and returning to your assignment.
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v. liar, liar, pants on [bon]fire.
Jeno didn’t tell you that it was a small and private gathering, so when you get out of his car, you were shocked to see that the only other girls there are Mark and Donghyuck’s girlfriends and Renjun’s friend (Although, anyone with eyes can tell that he has an obvious crush on her). The nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach continues to grow throughout the night as you sit on the large towel he brought, mere inches separating the two of you.
His oversized hoodie is draped over your figure, the sleeves almost reaching your fingertips and hem reaching midthigh. You hadn’t thought it’d be this cool out, especially with the bonfire and it still being early September, so you didn’t bring a jacket, but luckily for you, Jeno had worn the hooded sweater underneath his jean jacket. This feels like something a boyfriend would do, you silently muse before shoving that thought away. You’re clearly overthinking it.
Jaemin continues to wriggle his eyebrows at you from the other side of the bonfire whenever he catches your eye, whereas Renjun had given you a surprised look when you arrived and spares you the occasional glance here and there. You haven’t really spoken to him ever since your freshman art class, but have seen him around here and there.
You suspect the sudden cold shoulder back then has something to do with the fact that you hooked up with Jeno, but you were never really sure why. Maybe the dude just had a stick up his ass regarding one night stands, which would be kind of semi-hypocritical by association since his best friends are notorious for them.
“I think we left the s’mores stuff in the car,” Jaemin speaks up, rummaging through the bags of food and alcohol you all had piled up haphazardly in one area. “Can somebody help me get them?”
“I’ll do it,” you hastily volunteer, unable to cope with sitting here next to the cause of your worries and runaway thoughts. You quickly get up, failing to notice the way Jeno’s shoulders droop slightly when you move away.
“Hey, how’ve you been? I haven’t been able to talk to you tonight yet,” Jaemin greets you when you reach him. You quickly brush off any sand clinging to your legs and pull down the hem of your borrowed hoodie.
“Good! I’ve been good, just a little stressed with upcoming midterms,” you sigh, shoving your hands into the front pockets of the sweater as you and Jaemin walk side by side. “What about you?”
“O. Chem is kicking my ass,” he groans, kicking up some of the sand. “I’m honestly reconsidering my whole future career because of this stupid class. Maybe I’ll drop out and become the next Zuckerberg.”
“What, are you going to invent the newest Tinder? Match people based on their kinks?” you tease, and he snorts, lightly elbowing you. “That would make my life so much easier. We should include a filter for pancake haters, too. This morning, the girl called my pancakes dry.”
You gasp, looking positively scandalized. “She did not. That’s basically blasphemy. Literally sacrilegious.”
“Exactly!” Jaemin waves his hands around in emphasis. “Like bitch, please, I separate and beat my egg whites by itself and add extra butter to make my pancakes extra fluffy. I almost made Jeno use his muscles and throw her out.”
You let out a guffaw, peals of laughter escaping from your mouth, and Jaemin grins at you, stopping by the car and unlocking the trunk. “Well, I’m glad to know you agree with me. At least someone appreciates my cooking.”
“Dude, no joke, I would sleep with you again for the pancakes,” you say casually, grabbing one of the bags filled with the s’mores ingredients, and Jaemin almost chokes on his own spit before laughing loudly.
“Oh my god, you’re selling yourself for pancakes now?”
“I take cash, Venmo, PayPal, or pancakes.” You wink at him, and he laughs even harder, slinging one of the remaining two bags over his shoulder and wrapping the handles of the other one around his fingers.
“Don’t worry, you can have the pancakes for free,” he chuckles, the two of you now walking back to the bonfire.
You gasp for a second time in faux offense. “Are you saying you don’t want any of this again?” You exaggeratedly gesture to yourself.
“And are you saying you want some of this again?” Jaemin points to himself with a good natured smirk. The two of you are nearing your group of friends now, their conversations and the crackling flames growing louder. “Didn’t you call my butt pancake flat?”
“I love pancakes though,” you quip, giving him a second wink, and he splutters for a few seconds as you laugh, finally separating from him and walking back to your original spot around the bonfire. Jeno reaches out to take the bag from you, and you hand it over before sitting down next to him as he pulls out the ingredients.
“Here you go.”
Jeno hands you a couple sticks and the opened bag of marshmallows. You take it from him with a quiet “thanks”, spearing the fluffy, sugary concoctions onto two sticks before handing one to Jeno and passing the remaining items to Lana on your left. She and you had bonded earlier over your mutual dislike of your shared elective class aptly titled Shakespearean Comedies. It should've been named Shakespearean Tragedies with the way your grade on the last midterm looks. Absolutely tragic. You’re hoping the professor takes pity on the class and assigns a generous curve.
“Hyuck, there’s no way you’re gonna eat ten s’mores,” Lana chides, holding the marshmallow bag out of her boyfriend’s reach. “Why do you wanna roast that many at the same time anyway?”
“So Renjun doesn’t have any to roast.” Donghyuck beams at her, snatching the bag from her grasp. The mentioned boy frowns at him, pulling out a second unopened bag. “Jokes on you, asshole, there’s a second bag. I hope your teeth rots from all that sugar.”
“Thank you, Renjun, that’s very kind of you.” Donghyuck gives him a sickly sweet smile as he shoves the remaining marshmallows onto the twig. “At least I won’t die alone.”
“You probably shouldn’t say that when he has a pointy metal stick in his hand,” Lana remarks, shaking her head when she finally notices her boyfriend has emptied the entire bag.
Curling his fingers into fists, Renjun turns to Lana with a deadpan expression. “Please. I will give you fifty dollars if you break up with him. I’ll even throw in a free pack of bubble test sheets.”
“You know, someday I might just do it for free,” she says offhandedly, and Donghyuck almost drops his marshmallow loaded stick when he hears that. Immediately, he grabs her hand, interlacing their fingers tightly and letting out a fake laugh. “Ha ha ha, that’s so funny. What a great joke, ha ha, please laugh, too, so I know you’re kidding.”
Lana lets go of his hand to pat his cheek consolingly, but says nothing else as she focuses on roasting her marshmallow. Donghyuck continues to blubber out other pleas, and Renjun sits back, completely satisfied with the scene unfolding in front of him. His friend merely laughs, shaking her head, and you bet she’s probably used to seeing antics like this on a daily basis. Jaemin mimes cracking a whip as Jisung and Chenle laugh until one of their marshmallows drips into the fire and falls off. Judging by the loud cries, it’s probably Chenle’s that was unknowingly sacrificed to the flames. You smile as you watch the younger boys’ antics, laughing along with the rest of the group.
Meanwhile, Mark and his girlfriend remain blissfully unbothered, cuddling under a blanket and toasting their own marshmallows on a shared stick. You wonder if your future holds something like that. It must be nice to have someone by your side, someone to share with, someone to do dumb couple things with, someone to love.
You spare a quick glance at Jeno, who seems to be incredibly focused on roasting his marshmallow. He continues to stare at the toasting sweet with a serious look of concentration on his face, tongue poking out slightly and eyebrows furrowed. Cute. Your lips upturn slightly as you take another peek at the boy next to you.
Unexpectedly, the vibrations from your phone in your back pocket breaks your train of thought, and you pull it out, tapping on the screen to see the newest notification.
[ 9:09 p.m. ] xxx-115-0612: hey this is juyeon! giselle gave me your number, and i was wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks sometime?
“Your marshmallow is on fire,” Jeno remarks casually, and your head shoots up, eyes widening when they settle on the ball of fire at the end of your stick.
Dropping your phone, you quickly bring it closer to you and attempt to blow it out. There goes your dessert, literally going up in flames right in front of your eyes. When it finally extinguishes, you’re left with a sad, charred gooey mess. Wonderful. It’s the perfect representation of your life.
“Must’ve been something important since it made you commit s’more murder,” Jeno comments, and you sigh, shaking your head as you pick up your phone and shove it back into your pocket.
“No, it’s nothing. Giselle gave my number to Juyeon, and he just texted me.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you were into dudes like that,” he mutters, and you throw him a curious look before prodding.
“Like what?”
“Y’know… just… pretty boys, I guess,” he flounders, flustered and trying to think of any explanation. You snicker at that, giving him an amused glance. “One: have you seen Hyunjin? Two: are you saying you aren’t a pretty boy?”
“Oh, am I your type?” Jeno puffs up his chest and bats his eyelashes at you, and you chuckle, giving him a half smile. “I slept with you once, didn’t I? Himbos are my type, I guess.”
“Hey, I take offense to that. I agree with the hot part, but I have a sexy brain, too. I’m the whole package. I’ll have you know I accepted a job offer from Microsoft already,” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah? Did they take a look at your dick and realize you were the perfect fit?”
Donghyuck chokes on his s’more before letting out a loud cackle after Lana pats his back, sending you an amused grin. Renjun and Jaemin are howling with laughter, and the latter sends you another wink. The rest of the group only laughs even harder when Jeno is unable to offer you a coherent response, besides giving you the stink eye. You shrug, giving him an innocent smile instead before finally taking a good look at the damage done to your marshmallow.
Jeno notices you gazing forlornly at your destroyed snack and wordlessly switches it with his, handing you his stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Seeing you look like a kicked puppy makes him want to punch whoever decided to commit violence against the hypothetical dog. Even if it means giving up the marshmallow that he just roasted to absolute perfection. He didn’t go through twelve years of Boy Scouts for nothing. Making campfires and the best s’mores were two of his best earned badges.
“Wait, you don’t have to eat that,” you protest, unsuccessfully trying to take yours back, but he shakes his head, holding it out of your reach as he quickly assembles his s’more. “Nah, I like them like this anyway. Just eat that one.”
“I—” You helplessly watch as he takes a bite of the burnt atrocity. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I like it. You should eat that one when it’s still warm.” Jeno motions towards the stick still in your grasp, eyes gleaming. “Or do you want me to make you the s’more too? I can even feed it to you.”
Your cheeks heat up as you hastily make your own dessert, mumbling, “No, I got it, thanks.”
When you finish, you break it in half, handing one side to Jeno and taking the rest of the charred dessert left amidst his objections. “You’re a terrible liar. Nobody likes eating burnt stuff. And don’t lie, I saw you spit it out behind you when I was making mine.”
For good measure, you taste the remainder of the burnt mess, spitting it out immediately and tossing the rest into the bonfire. You turn towards him, scolding, “Yeah, this is horrible. Why’d you even give me yours, dumbass? You shouldn’t have eaten that.”
“You just looked really sad,” he mumbles, refusing to make eye contact as his cheeks turn rosy. He busies himself by taking a bite of the s'mores half you gave him, and your face grows warm at his confession. Your stomach does a weird flip flop, and you chalk it up to those questionable hot dogs Mark had brought earlier. You know you should never trust his cooking, but the hot dogs are pre-made and all you had to do was roast them over the fire.
“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, awkwardly thanking him, and stammer out, “W-well, I can make another one and we can split that to make it even.”
Jeno gives you a mischievous smile. “But what if you burn it again?”
“It was a one time thing! I was just distracted,” you defend yourself weakly, and he laughs, eyes curving into pretty moon crescents once more, and you silently chide yourself when you catch yourself fawning over them. Like Megara says, “My head is screaming ‘Get a grip, girl.’” But she was basically in love with a Greek God, so she deserves to get a pass for eventually ending up with him (Although, you suppose you could make the argument that Jeno has the body of a Greek God, or maybe he’s like a modern day Adonis, but you digress).
“I’ll do it,” he decides, grabbing another marshmallow, and you make a face at him. “Are you saying I suck at making s’mores?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
You frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout. “You know, just a thought, but if you’re trying to hook up with someone, you shouldn’t insult their s’mores making skills.”
“But wouldn’t you hook up with someone who’s good at cooking, so you don’t have to cook?”
“Oh my god, are you setting me up with Jaemin now?” You let out a fake gasp, and the boy in question gives you a mock salute from his seat. Jeno glares at you, extremely offended, as he pulls the marshmallow off of the heat. “You know, I don’t think I’m gonna share this with someone who doesn’t appreciate my cooking.”
“You can have one of mine instead, Y/N. I have eight extra,” Donghyuck offers, and you hold back a laugh when you see the immediate sulky expression painted all over Jeno’s face.
“No, take this one.” Jeno shoves the newly made gooey sweet in your hand and snatches the one from Donghyuck. You can’t help but smile at his childish antics, pretending to examine the one he had handed to you.
“What’s the difference between them?”
“Hyuck’s was made with spite.” He winks at you exaggeratedly, and you playfully roll your eyes before taking a bite of it. “Mine was made with love.”
You almost choke, nearly hacking up a lung, as Chenle and Jisung make fake gagging noises at that. Lana helpfully pats your back a few times during your coughing fit, and you weakly thank her.
“You’re gonna kill somebody with that ingredient,” you tell him when you finally stop wheezing, and Jeno chuckles, eyes sparkling. He nudges you gently, a cheesy grin on his face.
“But that ingredient is just for you, and you’re still breathing.”
At that, your chest seizes up, and your heart constricts as your breath hitches in your throat. You give him a tight smile, laughing a little nervously in agreement. With the rate you’re going now, you’re not so sure how long the second half of that statement will remain true.
Later that night, after Jeno drove you home (and wouldn’t let you return his hoodie yet again, citing it as another excuse to see you much to your secret delight), you stare at the text from Juyeon for a long time. You lightly gnaw on your bottom lip, rereading it over and over again. Finally, you swipe your finger over it and delete the text.
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vi. two samoyeds walk into a (boba) bar.
It’s a Thursday afternoon in early October when you decide to take Jeno to your favorite place off campus: a small boba tea bar found nestled in between a laundromat and bookstore down the small alley that broke off from the main street. You had stumbled upon it after a mishap with cheap boxed wine and your favorite white pair of jeans and you had to find a 24 hour laundry place since the on campus one was closed for the night.
This is your special secret place—as childish as that may sound, as if it’s your treehouse hideout back when you were seven—but it’s the place you go to when you need some time alone, the spot not even Yeeun knows about. And yet, something in you decided that you wanted to share it to Jeno.
“Okay, you can’t tell anyone about this place. You have to swear on secrecy.” You stick out your pinky finger towards Jeno, stopping in front of the alley. He gives you an amused look, but acquiesces to your request.
“Pinky promise, cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle through my eye. Scout’s honor.” He loops his pinky finger around yours and softly squeezes it before letting go. “Satisfied?”
“Very.” Then, you break out into a huge grin, almost wriggling in excitement because for the first time in your four years at university, you were going to show someone else your favorite place to visit. You grab his hand and pull him down towards the shop, like a child eager to show her teacher her latest drawing. “Okay, Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is down here. You’re gonna love it. They even have a dog!”
Chuckling, he lets you drag him towards the quaint boba bar. It is a cozy hang out place with soft glowing light bulbs, hammocks and chair swings, small nooks and crannies filled with plush pillows for you to sit in with wicker trays to place your drinks and snacks on, instead of the usual tables. There is even a loft area converted into a small library-esque space with several canary yellow overstuffed armchairs and vintage furniture. Cute modern paintings of dogs and cats of various sizes are scattered here and there along with pretty minimalist drawings directly on the walls. And the best part? It’s a dog friendly area, and the owner brings her Samoyed almost daily.
You like to try a different drink every time you come here, and today, you settle on the cloud matcha tea with boba for yourself and honey waffle fries to share. Once Jeno orders and the two of you receive your food and drinks, you make a beeline towards your self-designated spot: the comfortable nook in the wall all the way in the back.
You carefully place the waffle fries on the wicker tray in the center before handing your drink to Jeno. He wordlessly accepts it, and you carefully make your way in, settling against the plethora of comfortable pillows and seat cushions. Jeno gives you both his and your drinks before he also crawls into the comfy space. The two of you lean against the back, legs comfortably stretched out in front of you and fairy lights illuminating from above.
“So this is your secret hiding spot?” Jeno says, raising an eyebrow at you. An endeared expression flits across his face when he notices you happily snuggling into your corner of the nook and sipping your drink.
“Yes.” You reach for one of the waffle fries, munching on it and making a satisfied noise, before taking another one.
“Nobody else knows about it?” he inquires curiously, eyes roaming around the place.
“Well, Jaemin knows actually.” You shrug, pulling your legs up and crossing them leisurely. “Funny story, the first time I ran into him here freshman year, I got the shock of my life. Apparently, I’m not the only one who likes to visit Snowball every week. Sometimes, Jaemin shows up when I’m already here or vice versa. Snowball’s been two timing us, can you believe it?”
Jeno laughs, and you smile at him, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Do you like it here?”
He smiles softly, watching you with a tender look on his face. “I like it.”
Your grin transforms into a bigger one as you fill with pride, pleased with your decision to reveal this top secret location. “Good.”
You take a sip of your drink, content with today’s choice, before you notice Jeno looking at you with a smirk on his face. You grab another fry before casually saying, “I know what you’re about to say, and you better not say it unless you don’t want me to share my fries with you anymore.”
“I wasn’t about to say anything,” he protests, and you give him a deadpan expression. “Oh, really? You weren’t about to make a joke about how there are balls in my mouth?”
“First off, you said it, not me. And second off, no.” He pauses, leaning over to grab another fry. “But now that you mentioned it, I could think of something better than those balls in your mouth.”
You narrow your eyes at him before wordlessly pulling the tray of fries to you and away from his line of reach. You then proceed to eat four or five of them in rapid succession amidst his objections.
“Hey, hey, I was about to say fries! The ‘something better’ are those fries!” he exclaims as you give him a dubious look, shoving another fry in your mouth. Finally, he relents, distress evident in his tone, “Okay, so maybe I was about to say my balls, but please don’t eat them all, I’m sorry!”
You give him another hard stare before finally sliding the tray back to its original position, and he sighs in relief. The two of you continue to enjoy your snacks, enjoying every sip and bite until the basket is nearly empty of fries. And when Snowball the Samoyed finally makes its presence known, Jeno’s eyes positively light up. He hurriedly scrambles out from the nook and out onto the floor, immediately crouching down to pet the fluffy dog. You quickly follow suit, absolutely delighted when Snowball recognizes you and tries to lick your face happily. You play with the dog for a few more minutes before moving back, letting Jeno enjoy its full attention.
Propping your elbow on your knee, you lean your head on your hand, gazing at Jeno and lost in thought. There’s one question that’s been stuck in the back of your mind all these years, and the one person who can answer them is now sitting in front of you.
The boy in question glances over at you, mouth twisting into a familiar smirk. “Is there something on my face or am I just that good looking?”
You scoff, turning away to cover your smile. “Neither. I’m just thinking.”
“About?” He prompts, continuing to pet Snowball even as the dog starts to shove its head into its food bowl, happily eating its dinner.
“Why didn’t you call me?” You finally ask, fiddling with the straw of your half finished drink absentmindedly. “I gave you my phone number, and I really thought you were gonna call me after that night.”
Jeno remains silent for longer than usual as the question is now in the air, and you almost regret it. You had barely talked to him all those years, yet after just a few months, the two of you strangely feel so comfortable around each other, like you don't have to filter your words or can show him the worst of you. Perhaps, this is what happens when you share a traumatic experience with someone. You bond in a weird, convoluted way. Or maybe you just really don’t give a shit what Jeno thinks of you, and vice versa. But perhaps you shouldn’t have brought up something from the past, and you start to tell him to forget it when he finally responds.
“I did call you. I called you right after my classes were over,” he says at last, refusing to meet your gaze. “You picked up, or at least, I thought you did, but I guess you didn’t realize it? Anyway, you were mid rant with someone, listing a bunch of stuff that went wrong the other night. ‘Worst experience of your life, even worse than your first time with your ex when the condom got stuck’ if I remember correctly?”
You wince, remembering that that was one of the less vivid descriptions about your experience you had given to Yeeun that day. “Did you hear all of it?”
“I hung up after that. I mean I didn’t really want to stick around to get my heart crushed even more by the girl I liked, you know?” he says casually, and your heart twists in your chest at that. You didn’t know he had liked you. Suddenly, the lump in your throat doubles in size.
“You liked me?” You whisper out, horrified at this revelation.
“Yeah. You probably didn’t recognize me, but we were in the same lecture for that one mandatory freshman elective. You were always super vocal and challenged the professor’s stances, which I thought was really cool.” He stops petting Snowball, giving you a half smile as he jokes, “So I was about to piss my pants when you sat down next to me at that party and started talking to me. I had no idea what to do, so I started showing you pics of my cats, and when you were actually interested in them, that just sealed the deal. Until you know, the next day.”
“Oh my god. Oh my freaking god,” you repeat, mind racing at ten thousand miles per second. “Is that why I had to return your jacket by giving it to Renjun to give to you? He gave me the stink eye in our drawing class for the rest of the semester! I didn’t know this at all, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
Jeno looks concerned and tries to reassure you, “Hey, it’s no big deal. It was like three years ago. I’m a big boy. I got over it.”
“No, but you don’t understand. I liked you, too,” you say weakly, mind still reeling and thoughts all over the place. It’s almost as if your brain refuses to compute this new piece of information and make it make sense.
Eyes widening, he makes a noise of confusion, cocking his head to the side. If you weren’t so caught off guard by the sudden unexpected news, you would’ve made some comment about him looking like the overgrown puppy still burying its head in its food bowl. “But you said it was the worst—”
“I know what I said, but do you really think I’d let you continue if I didn’t like you?” You interrupt him before he can give you a second cringeworthy walk down memory lane of that conversation. “Plus, if you had stayed on the line for like twenty seconds longer, you would’ve heard me admitting my dumb crush on you.”
His mouth silently forms an O-shape at this new revelation, and the two of you sit there in silence, mulling over the sudden turn of events. Snowball wanders off to see if he can steal food from some other unsuspecting customers.
“So does this mean I could’ve met Snowball three years ago instead of just now?” He says at last, giving you a small smile and breaking the tension.
You chuckle quietly, “I guess so.”
“And we could’ve been boning for all these years.”
“Okay, calm down, I don’t like you that much.” You choke on a laugh, and his eyes glimmer as the grin on his face widens when he catches onto your little slip.
“So you admit to liking me now,” he says, the corners of his lips quirked up, and he raises an eyebrow at you.
“You said ‘I don’t like you that much’, which means you do like me to some extent,” he informs you smugly, and your face heats up.
“Didn’t. I said I didn’t like you that much. As in past tense,” you attempt to correct him and cover your tracks, but he merely hums in response, not wiping the smirk off his face. If anything, it just grows bigger, much to your frustration.
“So wanna make up for lost time in my room later on?”
Jeno wriggles his eyebrows at you, and you toss a throw pillow at him in retaliation. He ducks in time and laughs loudly, eyes crinkling in the corners and forming moon crescents. You sink back into the remaining pillows, crossing your arms over your chest with a slight huff.
“In your dreams and in my nightmares only.”
“You dream about me? That’s so cute.” He gives you another one of his signature eye smiles, and your stomach flip flops. You force yourself to push away the uneasy feeling building up in the back of your mind.
“It was a nightmare.”
“Still a dream.” He reaches out to pat the fluffball that came trotting back towards you, an expression of pure delight appearing on his face. That feeling of nerves comes up again, but you paint on what you hope to be a convincing smile.
“Shut up, Jeno.”
Jeno smirks at you, coming over to you and sitting close enough that your thigh and arm are pressed against his. His face is mere inches from yours now, and his eyes twinkle mischievously. He reaches out to brush the stray strand of hair from your face, and your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in even closer.
“Make me.”
Immediately, you shove a waffle fry in his mouth, rapidly turning away before he notices how warm your face has gotten, and he laughs loudly, swallowing the fry before moving back to his original spot and focusing his attention back on Snowball with more eager pets. Pressing your hand to your chest, you feel your heart rate slowly go back to normal. That was close.
Too close.
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vii. cat-astrophe in the making.
[ 10:34 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: are you busy
[ 10:34 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: i’m catsitting
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: {image.jpeg}
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: can you bring me food
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: poppy fell asleep on me and I can’t move
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: help me
[ 10:36 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: i’m gonna starve out here and die and it’s gonna be all your fault
[ 10:36 p.m.] catboy 🐈: when the police find my body they’re gonna find a note that says “Y/N did it” in my notes app
Balancing a cardboard box containing one large combo pizza in one hand, you ring the doorbell of Apartment #21 on 727 Maisie Street, one door to the left of Jeno and Jaemin’s shared place. Tapping your foot on top of the cute doormat in the shape of a paw print and the words “PURR-FECT HOME” etched upon it, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jeno tried to buy one for his apartment (It would be rather fitting with that pair of boxers he owns). Jaemin probably wouldn’t let him though because it would clash with the interior design that he painstakingly put together using IKEA furniture and some pieces he forced the other Nu Chi Theta boys to help him carry home after some stranger left them out by the curb.
The door swings open, and Jeno’s face brightens up when his eyes zero in on the carb loaded, cheesy goodness you brought with you. “Thank god, food is finally here. What took you so long?”
“Yeah, it’s great to see you, too,” you reply sarcastically, brushing past him and leaning down to unzip the cute black ankle boots you recently bought online during the Steve Madden 30% off sale. Thank god you managed to snag the last pair in your size.
“Where’s the ‘Thank you, Y/N, for leaving Kunhang’s party to bring me food? I’m eternally grateful and in your debt forever’ followed up with ‘You’re welcome, Jeno, it’s no problem at all. It’s not like I waited forty minutes for them to make your personal pizza specifically with those stupid red onions you like.’”
“You know, people are gonna think you’re even crazier than you already are if they hear you talking to yourself like that,” he says casually, taking the pizza from your hands, and you glare at his back, kicking off your shoes by the doorway and trailing behind him as he places it on the kitchen table.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me yourself,” he retorts. You let out a poorly concealed scoff, and he just gives you a teasing grin. An adorable, slightly overweight Siamese cat jumps onto the table, sniffing the box. You almost forgive Jeno for cutting your night out short when the pretty feline comes over to you and nudges your hand for a pet.
“Hey, did you get—”
“Ranch to dip the crusts in? Yeah, I did,” you answer, taking a seat, and he rips a few paper towels off from the roll near the sink before coming back and handing you one of them.
“You read my mind.”
“It was a quick read.”
He playfully glares at you, and your lips curl into an innocent smirk. You bat your eyelashes at him until he rolls his eyes, moving to sit across from you. You open up the box of heaven, taking a deep inhale of the greasy deliciousness. Pan pizza will always remain superior, no matter what Johnny says about Chicago deep dish pizza.
Pulling out a slice, you immediately take a bite of it, almost moaning from how good it is. Kunhang had bribed you to come to his party (in celebration of Chinese Singles Day on November 11th, but you’re one hundred percent sure he just used that as an excuse to dip into the frat’s event budget) with the offer of free pizza. As a broke college student, the words “free” and “pizza” combined together are basically the holy grail, so you obviously agreed to attend. However, when you showed up, the only thing you saw was an expired DiGiorno's pizza left thawing on the counter. You were definitely not impressed.
“I thought you said Poppy was stuck in your lap,” you say, chewing slowly as Jeno basically scarfs down an entire slice in seconds before reaching for a second one. You’re kind of impressed, but mostly disgusted when you’re reminded how college boys are basically garbage disposals when it comes to food.
“She was,” he answers, swallowing another mouthful of cheese and tomato sauce, before continuing, “But she ran off when she heard the doorbell.”
“Why didn’t you just move her then?” you remark, and he dramatically gasps, making it seem like you had just suggested for him to run the cat over with his Lexus instead.
“I can’t do that!” Jeno exclaims, scandalized, before lowering his voice to a hushed tone. “She chose me.”
“Yeah, well, she chose me now,” you say smugly, nodding down towards the ball of fur curled up in your lap, eyes sleepily blinking up at you. “She looks like a cute little shrimp. Have you fed her yet?”
“Yeah, Mrs. Jung told me to feed her at 7 p.m. so she already ate earlier.”
“How long are you catsitting for?” You gently scratch under Poppy’s chin and she lets out a pleased purring noise, her body vibrating slightly along with it.
“Just until Sunday evening. I have to come in the morning and the evening to water the plants and feed her. Apparently, Poppy eats too much and forgets to breathe, so I have to spoon out her food a little at a time or else, she’ll just shove her face in it all and throw up.”
Poppy nudges her cute little face into the crook of your arm, and you coo over her, softly rubbing the top of her head. “She’s an angel.”
“She destroyed five rolls of toilet paper today.”
“Still an angel.”
“... You’re right.”
“Of course, I am.” You grin satisfactorily, and Jeno only shakes his head, smiling to himself. The two of you finish off the rest of the pics until an empty cardboard box covered in grease stains is all that’s left. He picks up the box and used makeshift napkins, tossing them into the kitchen trash can and making a mental note to take out the garbage on Sunday after he feeds Poppy in the evening.
“So what are your plans for Christmas?”
You and Jeno are sprawled out on the throw rug in the living room. He’s laying flat on his back with Poppy perched on his stomach, happily stroking her back as she purrs loudly. You lean back on your outstretched palms, oddly endeared by the sight in front of you. But it’s cuffing season, so you blame it on that and the cold weather for the sudden urge to cuddle the hell out of the boy and cat in front of you.
“Mm, I’m gonna see if I can power through all fifteen seasons of Criminal Minds before the break is over.”
Poppy pads over to you and settles in your lap, curling up into a small ball again, tail flicking back and forth. Jeno frowns, sitting upright as he looks at you. “You’re not going home?”
“My sister and I pooled our money together to pay for a cruise for my parents since it’s their thirtieth anniversary,” you explain, carefully petting Poppy. “And my sister is staying with her boyfriend, so I have the whole break to myself.”
Jeno stays quiet for a moment, lost in thought, and you focus all your attention on the fluffy cat, reaching out for the jingling ball toy nearby. You shake it, catching Poppy’s attention immediately as she tries to swat it out of your hand. You wave it back and forth, watching as her eyes trail the bright, two toned ball, her ears twitching.
“I’m going home for the holiday break. You should come with me,” he says at last, and you drop the ball in shock. Poppy lunges over and pounces on it, the loud jingling noise immediately bursting forth.
Your first instinct is to say no, but you pause. Yeeun is flying out to the Swiss Alps for her annual family ski trip, and you really don’t want to stay in your apartment alone because that means you’re going to have to kill any spiders you see by yourself.
“Are you… are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. Jaemin comes over to celebrate with us, too, on Christmas Eve.” Jeno shrugs, leaning over to grab the ball and shake it around. Poppy jumps up and tries to grab it. “My sister is studying abroad, so it’s just me and my mom this time. I’m sure my mom would like the extra company.”
He wants you to meet his mom, you think silently to yourself. Your stomach flips at the thought of that, and you are definitely going to say n—
“You can see Bongsik, Seol, and Nal, too,” he continues, and the rejection dies on the tip of your tongue. You can’t believe you’re really reconsidering your answer because of cats.
“Okay, what day are you driving home? And what does your mom like? Don’t give me that look, Jeno, I can’t just come empty handed. I’m not a freeloader, like Donghyuck, you know.”
You’re doing this for the cats. You repeatedly remind yourself that this is for the felines, and not because you like to see that stupid grin that Jeno is currently sporting on his face. This is solely for the sake of seeing cute furry creatures. That is all this is for.
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viii. merry christmas, ya filthy animals.
When you had arrived with Jeno on her doorstep at the start of winter break, Jeno’s mother immediately pulled you in for a hug and welcomed you happily. She had been incredibly kind and made you feel invited and at home right away, instructing Jeno to put your small suitcase in his sister’s room where you will be staying before whisking you off to show all of Jeno’s baby photos with glee as he loudly complained behind you both. Your entire stay so far has been simply wonderful.
“Y/N, would you mind helping me with this?”
His mother requests in a soft voice, and you agree immediately, going over to her side and picking up the vegetables and going over to the sink, washing them carefully in the colander. She smiles at you before focusing on basting the small roast beef for your Christmas Eve dinner. “Thank you, sweetie. I would ask Jeno, but he’s not too good with knives.”
“Hey!” Jeno protests loudly, entering the kitchen, but he quiets down when his mother glances over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, fine, I accidentally cut myself twice last time, but that was it!”
“He’s a walking hazard in the kitchen.” Jeno’s mother shakes her head. “It’s a good thing he lives with Jaemin now, or else his entire diet would consist of ramen and protein shakes.”
“Mom!” Jeno whines, and she chuckles, “Why don’t you go set the table out for us, honey? Is Jaemin eating with us this time?”
“No, he’s going to come over later after he has dinner with his family.” Jeno pulls out the plates and utensils from the cabinet and drawers, stacking them up before he carries them out to the dining room. You smile absentmindedly, watching his figure disappear before realizing your hands are growing slightly numb under the running cold water and quickly turn off the faucet and shake the colander.
“You make him really happy.”
Startled, you look over to see Jeno’s mother smiling at you fondly, hip leaning against the counter. Her eyes are kind, and they match Jeno’s. Turning back to focus on preparing the main dish, she continues, “He’s never brought a girl home before. But I can see why my son likes you so much.”
“O-oh, we aren’t dating,” you stammer out, cheeks warming up at the implication. The bell pepper in your grasp slips from your hand, and you hastily catch it in time, stopping it from rolling off the cutting board. “We’re just friends.”
“Of course, my mistake,” his mother acknowledges before giving you a genuine smile, an indescribable look in her eyes: a mixture of knowing with a hint of melancholy—one that only a mother would understand. “The way he looks at you though… and you at him.”
She flashes another soft smile at you, a tinge of nostalgia sweeping her features. “Nevermind that, excuse me, I’m just rambling. Should we finish making dinner? I think everything smells delicious so far! And I’m so excited to try your homemade macarons!”
You hesitantly return her smile with one of your own, forcing down the swirling abyss of inexplicable emotions that had erupted from her words and tries to rear its ugly head at you. When Jeno pokes his head back into the kitchen, his mother puts him on mashed potato duty, and he groans but acquiesces. As his mother chatters on, the two of you work side by side, his arm brushing against yours every once in a while. You desperately quell the colony of butterflies that flutter in your stomach.
The dinner preparation continues smoothly, and dinner is served. It’s a light hearted affair, and Jeno’s mother proceeds to tell many fun anecdotes about his childhood, making him protest in embarrassment and you laugh over all the mishaps he and Jaemin had gotten into when they were younger. You make sure to file away the story consisting of school music recitals, too much apple juice, and a very unfortunate accident for future blackmail. When it is time for dessert, his mother gushes over the matcha macarons you made for her as a present along with the pretty bouquet of gardenias and camellias that she carefully arranged in a vase now displayed on the end of the dining table.
After dinner, she bids the two of you good bye when she has to go off to her late night shift at the hospital, hugging you warmly and telling Jeno she’ll be back tomorrow by noon. When she leaves, the two of you plop down on the couch in the living room, sprawled out comfortably on opposite ends and careful not to disturb the three snoozing cats lying on the top of the furniture.
“Wanna pick out a movie? Jaemin should be coming over in fifteen minutes,” Jeno says, picking up the remote and flicking on the television. “Oh, there’s the usual Harry Potter marathon on.”
“I’m good with that.” You shrug before sitting upright as a sudden thought comes to mind. “Wait, be right back.”
You dash upstairs to the room you’re staying in, leaving a bewildered Jeno behind. Rummaging through your suitcase, you pull out a neatly wrapped box and three smaller ones. Clutching them to your chest, you hurry back down before nervously thrusting them at him, and he barely catches them before they almost fall to the floor.
“I got you a present.” You anxiously twist your hands together behind your back as you try to keep your voice calm. “My family and I like to open our presents during Christmas Eve since none of us are early risers, and well, I thought you could maybe open it now?”
Jeno stares at the boxes for a moment before looking at you, the largest smile spreading across his face and relief washes over you like a tidal wave. “You got me a present.”
“I got one for Bongshik, Seol, and Nal, too.”
“You got presents for my cats, too?” He positively beams at you before standing up and quickly making his way to the stairs. “Wait, hold on, I got you something, too.”
You sit down on the couch, and he returns with a gift bag, sitting down next to you and sheepishly handing it over. “Sorry, I’m not good at wrapping presents, and Jaemin wasn’t around to help me.”
You pull out the tissue paper, a familiar object falling out, and when you recognize the tell tale fluorescent orange color, you laugh freely, grinning up at him. “Thank you, Jeno, I needed a Tide pen.”
“Just in case I accidentally spill any more drinks on you.” He puts his hands up innocently before motioning towards the bag with a softer smile. “But that’s just the gag gift.”
You dig deeper into the bag and pull out a small box. Untying the pretty white ribbon on top, you take off the top, and your eyes widen as you breathe out, “Oh my god.”
Your fingers wrap around a thin, delicate gold chain with tiny dotted spherical beads spaced out and your first name’s initial in dainty cursive and matching gold threaded on it. You carefully lift it out, and it sparkles as it catches the Christmas tree lights from different angles.
“Do you… like it?” Jeno chews his bottom lip nervously, “Jaemin helped me pick it out because I wasn’t too sure, but it’s too late now to—”
“I love it,” you interrupt, smiling at him.
“Oh, thank god,” he sighs, relief written all over his face as he watches you wrap the bracelet around your wrist. “Wait, let me help you with it.”
He reaches out and carefully grasps onto the loop and clasp on either side of the chain, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly as he concentrates on securing the bracelet. You gaze at him, the corner of your lip quirking up into an endeared smile.
“Got it,” he announces proudly, grinning at you, and your smile widens. “Thank you, Jeno.”
His smile grows as well before he glances down at the wrapped packages in his lap. Picking up the largest one with his name written across the tag on the front, he shakes it slightly before raising an eyebrow at you. “So what are you giving me?”
“My virginity.”
Jeno nearly chokes, and you wink and give him finger guns. He narrows his eyes at you, poorly disguising his chuckle as a scoff. “Nice try. But I already know about your first time—that lost condom horror story from high school.”
“Ah, right.” You lean back against the cushions comfortably before gesturing towards the boxes. “Why don’t you open them and see what it is then?”
He eyes you suspiciously before unwrapping the present, pulling off the top of the box, and his eyes grow round before immediately darting over towards you. “Is this….?”
“I thought it’d match your boxers.” You shrug, and the tips of his ears grow red. He pulls out a large maroon sweater with Bongshik’s, Seol, and Nal’s faces knitted on the front along with his name at the bottom and “PROUD CAT DAD” across the top.
“Oh my god.” He immediately pulls it over his head and tugs over it over his body before turning to you with an ear splitting grin. “I fucking love it, holy shit, Y/N, thank you.”
“Wait til you open the other presents.” You motion towards the three smaller boxes, and his eyes widen once more as he gasps, “You didn’t…”
You grin. “I did.”
Jeno immediately tears open the smaller boxes, pulling out similar miniature versions of his own sweater: one with each cat’s face and name knitted on them. He looks positively delighted, bouncing in his seat as he beams at you. “Wait, help me put these on them, so I can take a picture of them with me.”
You grab Seol’s sweater from his hand and reach out to pick up the sleepy cat from the top of the couch. Carefully, you tug the sweater onto his fluffy body. Much to your relief, the cat didn’t squirm, allowing you to quickly put it on. Jeno nimbly puts the sweater on Nal before carrying Bongshik to his lap and slowly pulling on the last sweater over her head.
“Perfect!” he says happily before extending his phone towards you. “Can you take a picture of us?”
“Yeah, of course.” You take his phone, about to swipe up to open the camera option when you notice his lockscreen. Faltering slightly, you realize with a jolt that it’s a picture of you and him from the bonfire. You push down the uneasy feeling to the pit of your stomach and plaster on a smile as you say, “Okay, ready? I’m gonna count to three.”
Jeno scoops up all his beloved cats in his arms and squishes his face against them. He grins happily, eyes curving into the prettiest moon crescents, and you hate how quickly the butterflies rise in your stomach at that sight. You snap away, taking pictures from various angles before you decide to stop before you use up his entire phone storage. As you try to hand him back his phone, he nimbly wraps his fingers around your wrist and tugs you down next to him.
“You gotta take a picture with us, too,” he insists, eyes sparkling. “This was your gift, you have to be in at least one picture.”
Bongshik comes over and plops down in your lap, staring up at you with her wide, pretty eyes, and you suddenly don’t have the heart to refuse. “Okay, just a few.”
Jeno beams, holding his phone up to snap a selfie of you, him, and his cats. Pressed against his side, you hold up Bongshik and smile, the fluttery feeling in your chest growing exponentially when you see how happy you look next to him. You’re in the middle of telling him to airdrop you the photos when the ringing doorbell cuts you off mid-sentence.
“Oh, that’s Jaemin, right? I’ll get it,” you say, standing up, and Jeno looks like he’s about to protest when you give him a glare. “Seol and Nal are sleeping on you, and don’t you dare wake them up.”
Defeated, he sits there, fiddling with his phone and petting his cats as you saunter over to the front door. When you pull it open, Jaemin looks up from his phone, the slight crease in between his eyebrows disappearing as he roughly shoves the device into his jacket pocket.
“Y/N,” he greets you with a smile before extending the plate in his hands towards you. “My mom wanted to give you guys some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.”
“Oh my god, please tell your mom I love her.” You snatch up the desserts quickly, mouth already watering at the sight of them. “Come on in, Jaemin, we’re watching the Harry Potter marathon. We can quote the script like we always do and drive Jeno crazy.”
“Oh, ah, I can’t… I, uh, gotta get back home.” He shifts from one foot to the other, giving you a tight smile. You suppose you don’t do a very good job at hiding your disappointment because he quickly backtracks, “I mean I would if I could, but um, my mom needs me back there.”
“Hey, no worries, it’s okay. Maybe next time.” You give him a reassuring smile, and he relaxes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something, fiddling with it. “I, uh, got you something for Christmas, too. Just something small.”
You quickly set aside the cookies, and he hands you a little capsule—one of those plastic circular containers you can get from a toy machine. You pop it open, a smile immediately stretching across your face. With a laugh, you hold up a cute little charm of Winnie the Pooh wearing a pancakes costume, admiring Jaemin’s gift for you.
“It’s so cute, oh my god, I love it!”
“You better. It took me seven tries to finally get the pancake one,” Jaemin says, smiling to himself when he sees you immediately attach it to your phone.
“What’s gonna happen to the other six keychains you got?” you chuckle, still admiring the new accessory on your phone. You look up and catch him smiling at you, and he turns away, cheeks flushed.
“I’m gonna give them to the kids at the hospital. I think they’ll all like it,” he answers, and you nod in agreement before your face falls at a sudden realization.
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t have a present for you.” You frown, the corners of your lips downturned, before brightening up when an unexpected thought occurs. “Okay, I know it’s not much, but… I promise I’ll make you the best waffles you’ve ever had whenever you want it.”
“You know how to make waffles?”
“Of course I do! I make the best waffles. This is a one in a lifetime chance to eat the greatest waffles of all time made by yours truly. They could even make Gordon Ramsay cry,” you exclaim, waving your hands around for emphasis before quickly tacking on as an afterthought, “But cry in a good way, not like Mark’s eggs.”
He chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Alright, I’m holding you to that. I’m gonna cash in that offer one day.”
“Good.” Your eyes twinkle. “Merry Christmas, Jaemin.”
Jaemin bids you goodbye soon after, and you wave him off until he drives off in his car. Carrying the plate of cookies with you, you make your way back to the family room, placing the dish on top of the coffee table. Jeno’s eyes light up, and he all but launches himself at the sweets (thank god the cats have moved off his lap and elsewhere by now).
“Where’s Jaemin?” he casually asks, munching on a cookie, and you frown, plopping down next to him on the couch and tucking your legs under you. “He said he had to go back home for his mom or something.”
“Ah, got it,” he nods, taking a quick peek at his phone, and you sulk, lips jutting out into a pout. “Who’s gonna recite Harry Potter lines with me now?
“Oh thank god, I don’t have to hear another ‘My father will hear about this’ from him,” he sighs in relief, and you chuckle at that before putting on your worst British accent.
“Jaemin will hear about this.”
He struggles to keep a straight face for a good ten seconds before he gives in, a loud guffaw escaping from his mouth, and you grin, rather pleased with yourself.
“‘Yer a wizard, Harry,’” you imitate Hagrid next, much to his delight, and you go through nearly every character until Jeno is in stitches and near tears. You save one of your favorites for last and increase your voice to a higher octave. “Not my daughter, you bitch!”
Jeno lets out another laugh, unable to contain himself as you say haughtily, “Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled.”
“Oh my god,” Jeno gasps, laughing breathlessly, eyes disappearing under the shadows of his pretty long lashes. “Holy shit, wait, my sides hurt, shut up.”
Giggling, you teasingly grin, leaning in as you slightly tilt your head to the side, eyes gleaming. “Make me.”
As the laughter subsides, the room grows quiet, and you suddenly realize just how close the two of you are, breath hitching in your throat. Jeno seems to be aware of the short proximity as well as he swallows hard, subtly shifting in his seat. His eyes map out every detail of your face, ending at your lips before flitting back up to meet yours. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest, pounding so loudly that you wonder if he can hear it.
“Scared, Y/N?” he whispers, sending the slightest shivers down your spine as you hold your breath. His hand finds yours, and your eyes drop down to see his fingers intertwined with yours.
You let out a quiet laugh, the words finally registering in your mind. You gaze back at him as the corners of your lips quirk up into a smirk. “You wish.”
Before you know it, he lets go of your hand and tugs you even closer, pulling you onto his lap and closing the distance. He captures your lips against his, and your breath hitches in your throat for a second time tonight as you straddle him, the palms of your hands pressed against his chest. He tastes sweet, like chocolate, and you cave into his embrace as his hand reaches up to delicately cradle your cheek. The next kiss is messier, more desperate, and he holds you like he’s scared of losing you, like if he doesn’t feel every inch of your body pressed against his, then this would all be a dream—that you aren’t really here, that this isn’t real.
Your heart ricochets in your chest, sparks flying until a whole damn wildfire is ablaze, and your grip on his shirt tightens, like you’re afraid of letting go and losing yourself. You feel drunk off of his kisses as he trails them down the slope of your neck before leaning up to press another one against your mouth for good measure.
“You wanna see something cool?” he says a little breathlessly when he pulls away, his cheeks and lips both a pretty shade of carmine now. You nod, not trusting your voice in this very moment.
He reaches behind you, carefully slipping his hand under your shirt. Pausing, he waits for your reaction, and when you nod, he continues. After a few seconds, he deftly unhooks the back of your bra before pulling his hand back, a proud expression on his face, and you start to laugh, shoulders shaking and mouth pulled into the prettiest smile that has him stopping to admire the pretty sight in front of him.
“Wow, you broke your record of five minutes,” you finally say, still giggling slightly, and he winks at you. “I had practice.”
“Yeah?” you hum as his hands trail to the undersides of your thighs, and he easily lifts you up as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Are you planning on breaking any other records tonight?”
Eyes glimmering, Jeno grins, leaning in to place another kiss on the corner of your mouth, and your heart races, cheeks growing warmer than ever.
“I’m going for the gold, sweetheart.”
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ix. to be (a coward) or not to be.
You find yourself lying in the cramped twin size bed next to Jeno. Your eyes wander around, taking in your surroundings and memorizing the way the moonlight casts shadows on the bits and pieces that give you a glimpse into the childhood of the sleeping boy next to you. There are posters of old bands and science fair ribbons pinned to the navy painted walls along with shelves filled with dusty sports trophies and action figures. You can see some old pictures of Jeno and Jaemin in high school along with younger versions of a few other boys you recognize from your university lined up on his desk neatly, no doubt framed and arranged by his mother. And then you notice how your clothes are haphazardly strewn throughout the room, intruding upon a space that isn’t yours. You feel so out of place.
Jeno stirs next to you when you shift slightly in your position and wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You gaze at the boy next to you, his delicate features highlighted by the soft glow of the moonlight from the curve of his lips to the pretty mole under his right eye to his long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He looks so innocent in that moment, and the guilt pools even deeper in your stomach for what you are about to do.
But you feel like you’re suffocating, almost drowning. A foreign emotion has already crept its way into your heart, and it’s squeezing your lungs until you can’t breathe anymore. There’s a reason why you choose a different pretty boy to spend the midnight hours with every time, a different warm body in your bed each night, a boy you know you won’t ever love for every single one of your short lived relationships.
Falling in love is terrifying. Falling feels a lot like flying until you crash into the pavement, heart smashed into smithereens. Promises are made, only to be broken. Commitment is your worst enemy, and letting someone see you in your most vulnerable moments frightens you more than anything in the world. The thought of letting someone have the power to affect you this much is just unfathomable, and you just can’t give up any part of yourself, can’t show the best and worst parts of you, can’t let yourself be vulnerable. You can’t give your all to someone only for them to confirm your worst fear.
But when you glance over at Jeno and feel the way he holds you so close—almost as if you mean something to him—there’s a tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you to stay. Enveloped in his arms and pressed against his side, you feel safe and protected, like this is where you should be. You wouldn’t mind coming home to this every night. Home. You feel at home when you’re with him, and that thought alone shakes you to the core.
You can’t do it.
You’re too scared to fall in love, too scared to take the chance, too scared to leave your heart in the hands of someone else. So you quietly slide out of his bed, not missing the way his eyebrows furrow as his arm reaches out to hold onto someone who’s already gone. You carefully pick up your scattered clothes and put them back on. You silently pack up your suitcase and find your phone, scheduling an Uber to take you back to your apartment. You pull up his messages and type out another one of your recycled excuses. You hit send, hearing a faint ping! from his phone, before finally exiting his bedroom, missing the way his eyes slowly open and watch you walk away.
It’s a routine you’ve gotten down by now: something as easy as waking up, washing your face, brushing your teeth, and changing out of your pajamas every day before your 8 AM class. You leave before the first rays of the sun peek out, the only trace of you lingering is the disappearing warmth in the sheets. Leaving is the only thing you’re good at. It’s as easy as breathing for you: one step forward, inhale, another step forward, exhale. You keep putting one foot in front of the other until you’re gone.
Bad habits are hard to break, or perhaps you’re too much of a coward to even try.
This is for the best, you say to yourself, repeating those words like a broken mantra in your mind until hopefully, you believe them yourself. You never stay. You never get attached. That’s how it always is. That’s how it has always been. That’s how it will always be. It’s always easier to be the bad guy. This is what you’re good at doing.
But it seems as though you forgot to pack away your heart when you left because there’s an empty ache in your chest during the entire car ride back.
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x. the fujiwhara effect.
When two hurricanes meet, it is called the Fujiwhara Effect. Two whirlwinds spin in the same direction, dancing in circles around a common center. They will eventually spiral into the center point and merge, unless one is more powerful than the other, in which the smaller one orbits around the larger.
Perhaps it was the calm before the storm. You have an awful penchant for screwing things up right when everything is going perfect, so maybe there’s always going to be a storm because you are the storm. It’s simply in your inherent nature to come rushing in and destroying everything good in your path once something becomes too real, too tangible, too permanent. You like to come and go, never staying in one place for too long, tearing through and leaving a war zone—and well, it’s not your fault if a trail of broken hearts is left behind. The warning signs were all there, but they still came to you.
But Jeno is no different. He goes around breaking hearts for fun, discarding them faster than a child plowing through a pile of shiny new toys on Christmas Day. Except he’s a stronger hurricane. And when the two of you eventually crash into each other, your whole world is ripped down the seams until you are spilling everywhere and spiraling out of control, until you’re stuck spinning in circles at his mercy, until you’re getting dizzier and dizzier with each passing second.
It’s all fun and games until it’s not anymore because you’ve made a habit of loving him, made a home in a person, and you recognize the way he looked at you that night. It was the way Yeonjun had looked at you, the way Minhyuk looked at you, the way Hyunjin looks at you, the way Yugyeom looks at Yeeun, the way all those girls look at Jaemin, the way you caught yourself looking at Jeno.
You want to throw up.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You weren’t supposed to catch feelings. You weren’t supposed to go this far. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with him, but you did, and now you can’t bear to deal with the consequences. Your fight or flight instincts kick in, and you do what you always do best.
You run away. Straight back into Hyunjin’s arms.
The scene is eerily familiar as you find yourself back in that same bathroom of the NCT frat house from all those months ago, but with a different boy in tow. Hyunjin pulls you in close, sloppily pressing kisses over every inch of your exposed skin, but it seems so wrong. He kisses you like it’s a means to an end, a desperate race to the finish line to get your clothes off and take what he wants. His hands are on your arms when they should be on your waist or cradling your cheek, he doesn’t smell like citrus and pine, but above all, you feel absolutely nothing.
And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
“Here or bedroom?” he mutters, fingers digging into your hips now, and you barely register the fact that he had asked you something at first.
“Here.” If you close your eyes, you can pretend it’s him instead. But that’s not what you need, so your eyes snap open to stare at the boy in front of you, reminding yourself that it’s not him, that it can’t be him. But want is a slippery slope, and your eyes flutter shut.
It is a mistake.
You see him. You struggle in this battle, the weight on your shoulders now pressing down on your chest, rib cage bending to the point of breaking, a billion thoughts clouding up your mind, your breath escaping between your teeth in uneven increments, and you find yourself careening out of control so rapidly that you grab onto anything, anyone, chest heaving up and down as your eyes snap open.
Hyunjin fumbles with your shirt, roughly grabbing the hem, and you’re clutching onto his belt, until the door bangs open and your heart leaps to your throat at the sight of him.
Lee Jeno: the walking cliché of your wildest dreams and your nightmares simultaneously. He’s living, breathing proof that bad boys who wear the typical leather jacket and drive a sleek car with one hand on the steering wheel, but also have a hidden soft side (because you saw him snuggling with his cats back home every night) actually exist. It’s Lee Jeno who used to have a different girl wrapped around his finger every night or morning or even sometimes mid-afternoon; Lee Jeno with his pretty eye smile that can make you swoon; Lee Jeno with his annoyingly endearing tendencies that you finally understand why so many girls, and even some boys, fall for so willingly.
Or for you, Lee Jeno: the boy who was your first genuine crush. He’s the reason you desperately wished you listened to Jennie when she told you to find an older, more experienced boy to have your first college hookup with, and not a fellow lowly freshman because you never knew a tiny, dumb crush could end up like this three years later. You never would’ve ended up learning that he has three cats that he loves more than anything in the world, that his favorite color is blue because that was Jaemin’s favorite color when they met in kindergarten, that he likes having exactly ten tiny marshmallows in his hot chocolate, that he secretly enjoys those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies his older sister forced him to watch with her when they were little, that all these little insignificant things have become significant to you because it’s Jeno. It’s no longer a silly crush; it has grown into something so much bigger that has him rooted in your heart, leaving a relentless ache in his wake as the thoughts of him engulf you whole, and it has you feeling absolutely terrified.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t kno—”
He stops when he realizes it’s you: the one who didn’t return his phone calls when he woke up to an empty bed or answered his texts, the one who got away, the one who somehow made her way into his heart and left a you-shaped hole in it. The hurt flashes in his eyes for a millisecond before it’s replaced by anger at the sight of the other boy, but you still catch it nonetheless, guilt curling up in the pit of your stomach.
“What the fuck?”
“Uh, we’re kinda busy here, dude, so unless you wanna stay and watch—” Hyunjin motions towards the door, but that seems to only make Jeno even more furious.
“Get the fuck out.” His voice is dangerously low, directed towards Hyunjin, but he’s staring at you. Hyunjin slinks out the door, muttering curses under his breath, but you’re frozen under his gaze, remaining perched on the bathroom countertop. The door swings shut, and he stands there, the both of you remaining silent as the muffled music continues to seep through the walls.
“Why?” he whispers, hoarse voice breaking at the end as his true emotions slip through the cracks of his dissipating anger. “Why are you doing this?”
You didn’t think you could find your voice, but at last you do. “What do you mean ‘why’? Isn’t this what we always do? Find someone, fuck, repeat.”
“But you and I—” He stops there abruptly, carding his hand through his hair in frustration. “We just— you and I…”
“You and I what? We slept together. That’s it. You got what you wanted, so that’s the end of it. Aren’t you happy?” You raise an eyebrow at him, pushing down the churning feeling in your stomach. “You can go back to your little body count competition now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He keeps his voice level, not falling for your jabs, and it angers you. You want him to be mad at you, want him to finally snap because then you would have a reason to leave, a reason to justify what you’re doing, a reason to not feel so goddamn guilty.
You don’t understand why you feel like this, the guilt eating away inside of you until you’re left with a hollow shell of yourself. It’s not like he and you were exclusive or even worse, dating. You and Jeno don’t date. Dating is not a word in either one of your dictionaries. Hooking up? Yes. One night stands? Of course. Next morning’s walk of shame? Unfortunately, guilty as charged. But dating? That word is foreign on your tongue and his.
He and you are the same. You’re the type of people who just take and take and take, but give nothing back. The type to never commit. The type that girls and boys think “I can change them, I can fix them. Just wait and see.” but it only ends with another broken heart in your collection and an unspoken “I told you so” from their friends. The type who uses empty promises, pretty gift wrapped words, and alluring smiles to get what they want and occupy their next conquest’s every waking thought before, during, and after their encounter. The type to play with a heart until they’re bored and set off to find an even shinier, brand new one. The type to leave and never stay.
The two of you are well versed with how this is supposed to end. But why does it feel like your heart is being crushed at an excruciatingly slow rate with every breath you take?
“Then what was it about?” You challenge, curling your fingers into fists. “What is this about? Do you need an actual review to scrub your now spotless record? Because here’s one: you’ve improved. It was great. Thank you for a fantastic night, now please let me enjoy tonight and go find Hyunjin again or whoever.”
The mention of his name sparks an immediate reaction as his jaw tightens and his entire figure stiffens. “This isn’t about that.”
“What is this about then, Jeno? Did you really think that this—” You gesture between you and him. “—was something?”
He stares at you with his mouth agape. “We spent hours, weeks, months together. I told you things I never even told Jaemin. I invited you to my house for Christmas. I let you meet my mom. I let you meet my cats.”
Your fingernails press so hard into the palms of your hands that you think you almost break skin. You school your expression into one of boredom. “So?”
“So doesn’t that mean something?” He finally explodes, hitting his hand against the wall in frustration as a distraught expression appears on his features. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Should it?”
He unfurls his fist, answering quietly, “It does to me.”
“But not to me.” The lie falls so easily from your lips, but Jeno can detect a falsity from the truth so easily when it comes to you. He knows you better than anyone else because you two are alike, cut from the same cloth, and that is what scares you the most.
“You’re lying,” he says softly, watching your still figure as you sharply inhale at that. “You wouldn’t share hidden places and secrets and spend time with someone if it all meant nothing to you. You wouldn’t buy custom Etsy Christmas sweaters for their cats or count out the number of marshmallows to add into their cup of hot chocolate or memorize their pizza order or go to three different grocery stores for a specific type of candy for someone if they meant nothing to you. If you didn’t love them.”
“We aren’t… we’re not made for that.” You shake your head. “You and I… we aren’t— aren’t built to care and love, to be cared for and to be loved. It’s been like that for years now.”
“You’re wrong,” Jeno whispers, and he’s looking at you with that exact same tender gaze that’s gotten you into this mess. “You’re wrong because I care about you.”
He swallows hard.
“Don’t.” Your voice breaks as you shake your head desperately. “Please don’t say it.”
“—I love you.”
The hurricanes collide. You’re falling apart.
“Stop. You— no, you don’t. You can’t. You’re fucking lying. Take it back.” You’re reeling, struggling to take back control but it’s too late to put the brakes on now and you’re seconds away from driving over the edge of the cliff.
“I’ve never lied to you, Y/N.” He looks at you with tired eyes, and you feel yourself slowly crumbling. “I’ve screwed up, I’ve done some shitty things, but I have never lied to you. So the least you can do is be honest with me. Do you really feel nothing?”
“I don’t… I’m not… That’s not… That is completely missing the point.” You flounder to find a footing, to find someplace you can hide and feel less exposed and vulnerable. You wrap your arms around yourself, hugging your body tightly and unable to say anything more.
“I love you,” he repeats in a gentler tone, and you can feel his gaze searing into the side of your face. You turn away, unable to look him in the eye and holding back the tears.
“I never asked you to.”
“But I still do.”
Jeno waits a few more moments, but you stay quiet with your eyes turned toward the floor and lips curled inwards and pressed tightly together. He laughs humorlessly, shoulders slumped in defeat as he turns towards the door, his voice echoing in the empty space.
“So I guess this is how it feels.”
You don’t dare to look his way. “This is how what feels?”
He pauses halfway out the door, facing you one last time, and you force yourself to face him at last. The corners of his lips quirk up into a wistful half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet his eyes at all, and it causes your heart to wrench painfully in your chest.
“To have someone break your heart.”
When he disappears, leaving you sitting in the cramped bathroom all alone, you finally let the dam break and the tears spill out. They fall until your pretty white shirt is completely soaked, but this time, no one is here to lend you their jacket and protect you from the cold because you’re the one with ice in your chest in the first place.
It’s supposed to hurt less when you build up the walls and let no one in, but nobody told you how lonely you’d feel. Nobody told you that you’d have to hold up the weight of the entire world on your shoulders alone. Nobody told you how much it fucking hurts to finally let someone inside your garden, only for the flowers you painstakingly planted to get trampled and the fence you put up to be broken when they left.
It always ends up like this: the heartbreaker and the heartbroken. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. So when two heartbreakers meet, it is inevitable that two hearts break. You just never knew it would hurt this fucking much when you have to break two hearts instead of one.
When a smaller hurricane meets with a larger tsunami, it continues to spin around and around the bigger force, faster and faster until it’s careening out of control, until it finally dissipates, until nothing is left, except for the mess it made.
So this is how it feels.
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xi. counterpoises.
When two people are too much alike, the scales tip to one side, growing heavier and heavier, until it topples over and the secrets and insecurities spill out like water, soaking and drowning everything in its path. The glass is either half full or half empty until too much is suddenly poured into it, overflowing onto the sides, and you can’t clean it up. You’re struggling to tread water, lost amidst the waves and sea, separated from the one person you care for most because you let him sink in order to swim.
You stand in front of the familiar shop alone, staring up at the blinking neon sign. It feels as if this is the only place left that remains untouched and pristine in the destroyed aftermath. Your friends mean well, but their questions and constant hovering make you feel like you’re trapped and suffocating once more. You give them half lies wrapped in thin veracity, not wanting to create an even bigger ocean. Because once you tell them the truth, once you tell someone about that night, it means that this was different, that this was real. It means confronting that what you and Jeno had—it meant something to you.
You escape to the one place where no one can find you. You take a deep breath before reaching out and pulling open the door, the cute little jingle immediately playing to announce your entrance. The owner smiles at you, recognizing you after nearly four years, and you greet her back, stepping up to the register to buy your usual.
When your order is ready, you carry the drink and basket of fries to the area you had dubbed your little alcove. Crawling into the familiar space, you place your snacks on the wicker tray and sit back, curling your legs underneath you and closing your eyes. The once cozy space now feels too big for you. You hate that you feel like you’re waiting for someone, anticipating the late arrival of someone who will sit next to you and fill the space that you come to realize is perfect for two.
But of course, he doesn’t show. Not when you pushed him away like that.
A heavy weight shifts the pillows next to you, and your eyes snap open, heart leaping in your chest as you immediately look to your right. Your eyes soften when you see Snowball sitting there. He looks at you, large eyes sparkling and tongue lolling out. Your face softens as he nudged his nose against your hand comfortingly, as if he senses your sadness. You throw your arms around him, burying your face in his fur and hugging him tightly, and he nuzzles his snout against your cheek.
“Thank you, Snowball,” you sigh, loosening your arms around him, and he tilts his head, touching his nose against your cheek, before laying down and resting his head in your lap. You smile down at him, placing your hand on his head and patting him tenderly.
“There you are.”
Startled, you look up and see Jaemin. You give him a tight smile. “Jaemin, I’m not in the mood to—”
“Did you know I’ve been shaking this bag of treats in the front for the past five minutes like a complete idiot, and Snowball still didn’t come?” Jaemin interrupts, wildly waving a plastic bag around in the air, filled with homemade canine snacks. “I even researched top quality dog biscuits recipes and checked with the owner to make sure he can eat this. I spent hours baking these, and he rejected me!”
You let out a snort, a small smile appearing on your face. Jaemin huffs in exasperation, pouting. “Here, you might as well take them and give them to him since he clearly doesn’t love me anymore.”
He thrusts the packet of treats at you and turns to walk away. You hesitate before calling out, “Wait.” He faces you with a raised eyebrow, and you swallow hard, tentatively holding up the dog biscuits. “Shouldn’t you at least wait and see if he likes them? You made them for him.”
Jaemin pauses, gauging your reaction silently before deciding, “Okay, I’ll stay. I wanna see if he’ll eat one. Two max because cookies can’t be that good for him.”
You open the bag and pluck out two of the treats, handing one to Jaemin and keeping one for yourself. Jaemin carefully crawls into the space to sit across from you. The white fluffy dog raises its head from your lap to look at him, tail thumping wildly and hitting his leg.
“Hey, buddy, I brought you some snacks I made.” Jaemin reaches out and strokes Snowball, grinning wildly when the dog sniffs and nudges his hand. He extends his other hand, the biscuit resting in his open palm. Immediately, Snowball snatches it, chewing it quickly with another wag of his tail.
You watch him, the ghost of a smile flitting across your face when you notice the pure, unadulterated joy coming from your friend as he exclaims that Snowball likes his treats. You hand over the second treat to him, and he happily feeds it to the overgrown puppy.
You stay quiet for a moment, contemplating before finally asking, “How was volunteering today?”
Jaemin’s face lights up. “It was really good. Andy drew me another drawing.”
“Oh? what’d he draw this time? Another dinosaur?”
“No, an astronaut.” He smiles, eyes twinkling. “He said once he gets better, he’ll take me on a trip to the moon because there are bunnies on the moon and I look like one.”
You chuckle, eyes flickering over his features. He does look like a rabbit in some ways, you note. You hesitate. “Is he getting better?”
“He’s in remission. But the doctors want him to stay just in case still..” Jaemin traces the edge of the throw blanket with his finger, staying quiet for a moment before his shoulders slump. “You know, sometimes, I hate volunteering. It just fucking sucks to see all these kids with so much potential spend their entire lives stuck in a white cell. It just, I don’t know, it just really sucks that I want to help so badly, but I can’t do anything about it. I get these second thoughts about becoming a pediatrician because what’s the point if I can’t help people?”
“That’s not true.” You shake your head, reaching over to place your hand over his. “You’re working your butt off shadowing doctors and studying to help people. You spend extra hours on top of that just visiting all the kids. You help Andy. You helped Chloe, Alex, Sam, literally all of the kids that you spent time with. They absolutely adore you, and you make them happy. And don’t deny it because I’ve seen all the crayon drawings they made for you taped up on your walls. You’re a kind person, and you make people feel loved and cared for, Jaemin.”
A hint of a smile sweeps across his face as he lets your words settle in his heart. He carefully turns his hand over to wrap his fingers around yours, squeezing your hand gently before letting go. A silent thank you.
Jaemin continues to ramble on about his classes after that, and you listen, adding in a few words here and there. You haven’t felt at peace like this in so long. It reminds you of when things weren’t as complicated. It feels like the calm before a storm.
You’re standing in the eye of the hurricane.
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xii. he loves me, she loves me not.
Yeeun and Giselle refuse to let you wallow around in your misery and continue to eat your weight in xxtra flamin’ hot Cheetos as you go in a downward spiral of watching every single episode of every trashy TLC reality show possible for a third week. They love you to death, but there’s only so much they can take of “Say Yes to the Dress” and “Extreme Cheapskates” before they want to smash the television. Your friends force you into a casual, but still cute, little red mini dress and your black boots so you can stomp on the shackles of patriarchy and dumb boys. You reckon it’s time to swap out those artificially bright red cheesy puffs and drink your weight in alcohol tonight instead.
“Okay, we can’t be late, especially since I’m dating the host.” Yeeun ushers you and Giselle towards her car, and you situate yourself into the passenger seat, while your other friend sprawls out in the back.
“I still can’t believe you’re actually dating someone,” you comment, leaning your arm against the door and resting your head in your hand. “Guess we gotta pour one out for all the boys whose hearts you broke with that couple post.”
“You know, I think I saw Chris cry a little in the back of the lab today,” Giselle chimes in, tapping her finger against her chin, and Yeeun laughs, starting up the car and pulling out onto the street, “Oh my god, you guys, that was a one time mistake.”
“A mistake lasting three months. I still can’t believe you called him the wrong name before,” you giggle, and she splutters, hitting the brake pedal a little too hard at the next red light.
“Okay, he didn’t hear me though. My face was in the pillow.”
“Mm, no, he definitely heard you,” Giselle cuts in, “I did a little experiment and pretended to forget his name. I called him Kevin, and he reacted so fast, I thought he was gonna get whiplash.”
“Well, shit.” is all Yeeun can say as you and Giselle start to laugh hysterically. It feels nice to laugh like this again, like you were your old self before feelings got involved and all you cared about was if the cute boy in your Managerial Accounting class was single and ready to mingle (spoiler alert: he was). It feels like everything might be okay again.
“What about you, babe?” Giselle starts, and the casual little pet name strikes a chord in you. “Is tonight only a drunk night or a fuck night?”
“Screw it, let’s go with fuck,” you firmly decide, finally making up your mind and vowing to commit to it, and the girls cheer. “I deserve to get good dick tonight.”
“Hell yeah you do!” Yeeun exclaims, and Giselle nods vigorously in agreement with a fist pump and supportive battlecry. “Jennie would be proud. Fuck boys. Both literally and figuratively. Fuck Jeno for breaking your heart.”
You nod your head wordlessly, choosing to stay silent and not tell her that it was the other way around. Hearing his name leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth, and you quietly listen as your friends continue to curse out every aspect of the male specimen.
When you arrive at Greek Row, Yeeun is lucky enough to find a nearby parking spot, and the three of you hurriedly make your way to the Gamma Omega Tau house. The signature red cups are already strewn across the front lawn, and you’re pretty sure you see Yangyang vomiting in the bushes as some poor girl pats his back. A beer pong table had been set up out front as well, and when you enter the house, you can still hear Yukhei whooping loudly over Cardi B. advertising her WAP, no doubt winning another game with Jackson.
Yugyeom appears, and you wave Yeeun off when she gives you a worried glance, even giving her a thumbs up before she’s whisked away by her boyfriend. Giselle sighs enviously, looking at them before they disappear in the dancing crowd. “God, sometimes I want a boyfriend so bad, but then, I’m like, ‘Do I actually want one or am I just bored’, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. It usually goes away the next day once you hook up with someone,” you say, and she hums in agreement. Her eyes scan the room until they land on one boy in particular. “Oh god, Dejun is here.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He and Karina have some beef going on, and I don’t want to listen to another whole spiel about it.” Her eyes grow bigger when she sees him coming this way. “Okay, yeah, I gotta dip. I’ll be in the pool room. Don’t tell Dejun.”
With that, she nimbly slips her way through the tightly packed bodies and makes her escape. A few seconds later, Dejun shows up by your side. “Hey, wasn’t Giselle just here?”
“Uh, yeah, she needed a drink though.” You clear your throat, hoping he won’t see through your lie. He huffs in exasperation, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I wanted to talk to her about something. Can you believe that Karina had the audacity to—”
You make sure to thank the heavens for sending you a savior in the form of— you squint your eyes to make out who called out your name from across the room before they widen in surprise—Na Jaemin.
He makes his way over to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder, before he addresses the other boy. “Hey, you don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, right? Thanks, man.”
Jaemin tugs you away before he can protest, and you find yourself in the kitchen, which is surprisingly devoid of anyone. He pours a mix of sodas and cheap whiskey into a cup, offering it to you. You accept it, taking a huge sip of it before wrinkling your nose. The mixers do a poor job of covering up the whiskey, and Jaemin laughs at your reaction, emptying the rest of the alcohol straight into his mouth.
“So what’s up?” You raise the plastic cup in a mock toast towards him before taking another sip. Yep, just as awful as the first taste, but the burning sensation down your throat becomes a little more bearable.
“I just… wanted to check up on you. How are you doing?” he says, tossing the empty bottle into the nearby recycling can. Hey, saving the environment is important, and it’s always good to remember the three R’s: reuse, reduce, and recycle. But make sure not to apply that to all rubbers, of course.
“I’ve… been better, I guess. It’s just one of those days.” You shrug and dump half of the contents of your drink into your mouth.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jaemin watches you, tilting his head to the side as he finally breaks the silence, and you shake your head, finishing off the rest of your drink. “I came here to not talk about it.”
“Okay.” He pauses before reaching out to lightly touch your elbow. “Do you want to dance with me?”
You don’t say a word, but you reach up and lace your fingers with his, pulling him out to where the bass is pounding the loudest. Now face to face, you pull him even closer, and he places his hands on your hips. It feels foreign, but you shove that feeling away, just like you always do.
“You don’t seem happy,” he notes, leaning forward to speak closer to your ear in order to be heard. His breath tickles the shell of your ear, and you shiver slightly. You can smell faint traces of his cologne, freshly baked cookies, and whiskey.
You redirect the conversation, slipping your arms around his neck. “How’s everything?”
The underlying question is clear to Jaemin. How’s Jeno? He quickly maneuvers you around to avoid Yukhei who has suddenly barraged through the packed living room, like a crazed linebacker. The two of you are pressed up against each other now, and Jaemin looks down at you through his pretty eyelashes, studying your features with a softened gaze.
“He’s… been better. But he’ll live. He’s in the engineering lab right now, working late on his senior project. He’s almost done with his prototype, and—”
You kiss him.
It’s instinctive and impulsive, but something inside you snaps, and you can’t bear to hear him talk about Jeno anymore, so you do the first thing that comes to mind. Jaemin is caught off guard and freezes up for a few moments before he hesitantly kisses you back. His hands squeeze your waist gently before one goes up to cup your face in the exact way you like. But it feels all wrong. You card your fingers through his hair, slot your body against his, and press your lips against his harder and harder, desperate to feel something else, anything else.
But you don’t.
Breathing out your name, Jaemin pulls away from you, pupils blown wide, as he stares down at you, his parted lips red and swollen. He’s a pretty sight to see. A pretty mess, just like you. It’s like one of those Monet paintings that look stunning until you come closer and ruin the masterpiece. You lean forward and attempt to close the distance again because maybe the second time will be a charm, or maybe the third or fourth, but he leans back, shaking his head as his grip on your waist loosens.
“Y/N, Y/N, stop. You're crying.”
His fingers tenderly brush away the tears that have unknowingly fallen and stained your cheeks. You feel the teardrops sliding down now, wetting your skin, and Jaemin silently thinks your eyes still look beautiful, all starry and shining. He pulls you close and lets you cry into his shoulder, and you clutch onto the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. He tucks you inside his oversized jean jacket, letting you hide from the world and remove the carefully crafted, brave persona you’ve been putting on for the past few days, months, years. You’ve nearly forgotten what the world outside of the fences you’ve built is like.
Pushing his way through the crowd, Jaemin brings you out to the back, hugging your figure to him as the two of you stand on the back porch, the loud music now muffled as are the boisterous shouts and conversations from your peers inside. You press your face into the crook of his neck and let him hold you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace as the tears stream down your face. He holds you for as long as you want—as long as you need.
You want to stay like this forever. But you can’t.
Inhaling sharply, you harshly wipe away the tears with the palms of your hands, no doubt smearing your makeup away, but you can’t care less. Jaemin has already seen you at your lowest before.
“Jaemin, I fucked up.” Your voice cracks. “I’m fucked up.”
“Hey.” He grabs your shoulders gently. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not fucked up.”
You attempt to give him a watery smile, but end up hiccuping. “But it’s true. I can’t—I don’t know how to stay. I don’t know how to let anyone in. I don’t know how to trust anyone. I don’t know how to be someone capable of being loved. I don’t, I don’t know how to love. I don’t know if I can. But I want to, I want to so badly, but I just—I just can’t. Something is wrong with me.”
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Jaemin says firmly, staring directly into your eyes, and for a moment, you almost believe him. His voice grows quieter. “You’re not fucked up. You are capable of love. You are capable of loving. You wouldn’t be feeling this way if you weren’t. You wouldn’t be out here if you didn’t love him.”
Your eyes waver, and Jaemin gingerly reaches out to cup your face, keeping his steady gaze on you. He feels like an anchor amidst the hurricane, and you hold on tightly, terrified of spiraling away even farther. He holds you together as you fall apart, keeping you from self destruction: the green light on the other side.
“Y/N, you are worthy of being loved. Your family loves you. Your friends love you. Yeeun loves you. Giselle loves you.” Jaemin pauses, hesitating for a few seconds.
“Jeno loves you.” I think I love you.
At the mention of his name, you hate how your eyes start to fill with tears again, and you harshly blink them away. “He shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it.”
“Everyone deserves to be loved.”
You shake your head vehemently in silent protest, curling your hands until your fingernails create small crescent shapes in your palms, until you finally feel something through this numbness even if it’s a little pain. Jaemin reaches out and carefully unfurls your fists, squeezing your hands gently.
“Y/N, you deserve love. You might feel like you’re someone who isn’t worthy of love, but doesn’t that just mean you should try to become someone who you believe is worthy of love?” He smiles softly at you.
“Don’t you want to try?”
Jaemin catches a stray tear that manages to slip through your eyelashes, thumbing it away gingerly. It sparkles under the moonlight, like a diamond in the inky night sky that will always be out of his reach no matter how hard he tries. So this is how it feels to want something—someone—you can’t have, he muses, a foreign feeling settling in his bones, in between the cracks of his rib cage until it curls around his heart like poison ivy. The stars twinkle mirthlessly. They are his silent witness when he finally understands. This is what heartbreak feels like.
You take a breath, inhaling slowly, then exhaling. Jaemin stares at you so earnestly, holds you so delicately, and says those words so fiercely that maybe, just maybe, you start to believe him.
You’re terrified, absolutely petrified. You don’t know if you can ever become that someone. You’re still scared that it’ll hurt, that you’ll lose everything, that you’ll lose yourself if you let yourself love someone, that your worst fear will be confirmed. But you realize that you want to. You want to try. You want to try for yourself.
But you also want to try for Jaemin.
Because he believes in you even when you don't believe in yourself. Because you trust him right now more than you have ever trusted in yourself. Because it’s not as scary when he’s holding your hand. Because he gives you the courage to not be so afraid. And one day, you hope that you’ll be able to prove to him that it wasn’t all for nothing.
You call his name so sweetly, and he’s reminded of a distant memory from sophomore year when you sat across from him at the kitchen table, eyes sparkling and a stack of pancakes nearly toppling over in front of you. That was the first time he made pancakes for someone, other than himself or his friends.
That was the first time he tried.
“Jaemin,” you repeat his name, and he hums in acknowledgment. He waits for you patiently. You draw in a shaky breath. It’s now or never. You have to do this when you have the courage: the courage to stay, the courage to trust, the courage to love, the courage to take the first step.
“I want to try.”
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xiii. plastic hearts can break, too.
[ 4:23 p.m. ] you: can we talk pls?
[ 4:47 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: I’m free after my aerodynamics class
[ 4:48 p.m. ] you: cavanaugh hall in 15?
[ 4:59 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: ok
You wait anxiously, sitting on one of the benches in a more secluded area, and cross your legs, your knee bouncing up and down slightly in trepidation. The vines overhead and trees have already lost all their leaves long ago, leaving empty twigs waving aimlessly in the wind. The chilly air bites your nose, tracing its icy wisps against your cheeks, and you shiver slightly.
Jeno’s figure approaches the area, and you wave awkwardly, catching his attention. He walks over to you, one hand clutching onto the strap of his backpack tightly. Stiffly, he drops his bag on the ground, taking a seat beside you before staring down at his clasped hands.
“Um, hi,” you start, nervousness blooming in your stomach. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” he says shortly, crossing his arms across his chest. He still doesn’t relax, sitting on the edge of the bench with his back straightened. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I kissed Jaemin.”
Your confession hangs in the air, suspended like tiny pieces of glitter in a snowglobe. The boy next to you stiffens up, squeezing his hands into fists, and your mouth goes dry. You lick your lips before continuing, “I’m sorry, it was an impulsive thing, a stupid thing to do, an—”
“I know.”
You stare at him, mouth open. “You… know?”
Jeno slumps in his seat, unfurling his fingers as he turns and finally looks at you for the first time since that night, tired eyes gazing back at you. “I know. Jaemin told me.”
“He told you?” you repeat, still trying to process everything all at once, and he nods. He sits in stony silence until his face crumples, and his voice grows smaller, but you still hear it, your heart cracking a little more.
You hesitate, wavering between every single answer in the book to absolutely nothing at all. Why did you do it? You never thought about it. Sometimes, you just simply do things without determining the consequences. But the underlying reason is there when you dig deep down into the farthest crevice of your soul.
“Because I was scared,” you answer honestly, and this time, he knows you’re telling the truth. Jeno knows you better than anyone else after all. “Because I don’t know what to do when someone loves me. I don’t know what to do when I love someone. When I love you.”
Jeno’s eyes widen at that, and you give him a small smile, pulling at your sleeves to cover your hands. “I’m scared because that means I’m letting you in. I’m scared because I want you to stay. I’m scared because that means you can choose to leave whenever you want to, and I can’t do anything about it.
“So I always choose to leave first. To run away before the other person does. But because of that, I don’t know how to—how to love someone. I didn’t know what it felt like. But then you came along.”
Jeno doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s listening carefully. You pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you look straight ahead, gazing at the one lone flower that has still managed to survive and bloom on the magnolia tree.
“You were—you were unexpected. You were relentless. You never gave up. You were fearless. You surprised me with your funny texts, your corny pick up lines, your cat pictures, your earnesty, your honesty… You really made it so easy to fall in love with you, Jeno.”
You chuckle quietly, “I didn’t even know I was falling in love with you until it was too late. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was suffocating, and I couldn’t stay. I didn’t know how to stay without falling apart. So I ran. I did a bunch of stupid things to pretend that my feelings didn’t exist. If I don’t acknowledge it, then maybe it isn’t there. Maybe it’ll go away.
“But it didn’t. It just grew bigger and forced me to acknowledge it. When I kissed Hyunjin, I wished it was you. God, I wished it was you so badly. Did you know that? But I’m a coward, and I couldn’t face my feelings because I wanted to protect myself.
“Isn’t it so fucked up that we go around breaking other people’s hearts when we’re so afraid of our own being broken?” You laugh humorlessly. “I’m a selfish coward. I didn’t want my heart broken.”
“So you broke mine instead,” Jeno says bitterly, shoving his hands into his pockets, and you nod, the lump in your throat growing bigger.
“Yes, I did. I thought that meant, in some messed up way, that mine was safe. That I wouldn’t be able to get hurt if I pushed you away. That my feelings would go away, and everything would go back to the way it was. So I kissed Jaemin to prove to myself that everything was the same again. But of course, it wasn’t. It never was to begin with. And I ended up breaking not just your heart, but mine, too.”
“I didn’t know what it was like to be in love.” You draw in a quivering breath. “But I also didn’t know what it was like to be heartbroken. All I knew was that it hurt so fucking bad.”
“And all I could think of was you,” you say softly, and his breath hitches in his throat. “I hoped to god that it didn’t hurt this much for you. That’s when I realized I love you.”
“That's what love is, right? Thinking of the other person and putting them before you, being selfless and unafraid, letting someone else hold your heart and trusting them to not break it.” Your eyes water, but you attempt to harshly blink the tears away. You swallow hard. “Jeno, I’m sorry for being selfish. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I’m not ready to love you.”
Your eyes fill with unshed tears before you squeeze them shut, inhaling shakily. “But I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to be someone deserving of love, someone I’m proud of—someone I love. I don’t know how long it’ll take… but I’m trying.”
You clasp your hands together, twisting and turning the rings on your fingers, as you bow your head slightly, eyes trained on the golden loops—on the gold chain around your wrist, the tiny initial dangling and catching the faint sunlight. You take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. You don’t expect a response from him, but he carefully reaches out and places his hand over yours, curling his fingers around yours.
“I know,” he answers softly at last. Jeno speaks quietly, barely above a whisper, just for you to hear before the wind scatters his words.
“I believe in you.”
When Jeno leaves, you choose to sit there for a little longer. You are alone, but you no longer feel lonely.
The right person at the wrong time, when someone is ready and someone is not, when you both fall in love a little too hard, a little too fast, and a little too soon, it is still love, is it not? For him, it is love. For you, it is love. Yet sometimes, love on its own isn’t always enough for someone to stay. It slips through your fingers like sand in an hourglass. You can try to pick it up over and over again, but it becomes a relentless cycle of the grains of glass escaping between your desperate grasps, akin to two hands of a clock chasing each other round and round.
In another lifetime, in another universe, where another you and another him exists, perhaps they are in love. In someplace where there was never any fear, never any hurt, never any doubt, never any hesitation, there may be a you and a him who fall in love and stay in love. You hope that’s true. You hope that there’s a happily ever after for you and him somewhere out there—that there’s a time where both of you are ready. It might not be now, it might not be here, but you hope there was, there is, there will be.
In this moment, there is love. There is love, but it is breaking both of your hearts. There is love, but it is time to let go.
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xiv. where flowers bloom, so does hope.
Time is the universe’s greatest healer.
Time allows for you to discover things about yourself that you found difficult to acknowledge in the past, allows for you to examine the mistakes you made, allows for you to grow and flourish as you learn to love these imperfections. You learn to shed the facade you've been cowering behind and become comfortable in your own skin. You create your own fire, instead of relying on another person’s warmth every night. Trials and tribulations dot your personal journey, but you are not alone in carrying the weight any longer as you allow your friends into the garden you painstakingly nurture. They plant seeds that take the place of what was lost and rebuild the broken fence with the addition of a gate, and you join them, sowing some of your own and tending to these flowers until they bloom into something ethereal and beautiful.
Time teaches you how to care for and love yourself, rather than simply exist in this body of yours. Time extends a hand to you, pulling you forward, when you feel yourself slipping back into the steep ways of the past. Time pieces together the broken fragments and glues them back together, making them stronger, making them wiser, making them braver, making them whole, making hearts that are ready to love once more.
Fiddling with the familiar breakfast charm dangling from your phone, you sit on the bench beneath the blooming wisteria vines, gazing at the magnolia tree with all its pretty flowers nearby. The petals all sway in the light breeze, and you admire the pinpricks of sunlight filtering through in between the shade.
“Hey, sorry, I’m late, Professor Chung returned our midterms today, and I stayed back to ask a few questions,” Jaemin says breathlessly, appearing by your side. You smile at him, standing up from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“No worries, I was enjoying the view here anyway.” Shoving your phone in your pocket, you take notice of his reddened cheeks, and the corners of your lips quirk into another smile: a teasing one this time. “Did you run here?”
“Well, yeah, I didn’t want to make you wait,” he sheepishly admits, flushing slightly. “Do you wanna drop off your bag at your place before we go?”
“Nah, it’s alright, that’s out of the way, and I’m fine with carrying it.” The two of you start the walk towards your beloved drink shop. Jaemin hesitates before tentatively saying, “My place is on the way. We can drop off our stuff there, but…”
You catch the lingering tone and insinuation as he trails off, and your heart softens when you realize his consideration. Jaemin gnaws on the inside of his cheek, mistaking your silence as his blunder, but then you smile at him, nodding in agreement.
“That’d be great! Is Jeno there? I wanna ask him how his second date went. He seemed really nervous about it, but I really think they’re good together.”
“Wait,” Jaemin chokes, eyes widening as your words finally register in his brain, and he halts. “You know Jeno’s going out with Sei?”
“Of course I know. He’s been texting me for help this entire time.” You pause and turn back when you realize Jaemin is no longer walking side by side with you. “What’s wrong?”
“I just— you and Jeno, I thought—” he splutters, all thoughts flying out of his mind in a whirlwind, before he places his hands on your shoulders, peering into your eyes intently. “Wait, are you okay? How are you feeling? If you want to go print out pictures of Jeno and rip them up, that’s completely valid, and I support you, even if he’s my best friend.”
You laugh at that last sentence before you gently place your hands on top of his, squeezing them lightly. “I’m fine, Jaemin, really. It’s been over three months. Sometimes, things just don’t work out, but we’re both in a better place right now. Even if it means our feelings aren’t the same anymore.”
“But he still sends me cat pics, so that’s all that really matters anyway.” You add on as an afterthought with a small chuckle. Jaemin still searches your eyes for any underlying meaning, but this time, he finds none. Your eyes shine bright, and you give him a reassuring look. He lets go of you with a relieved sigh, resuming the walk with you by his side.
“So does this mean you might want to venture into the scary dating world, too? Find someone to grow old with and have a white picket fence house and three dogs with?” he says jokingly, hoping you don’t pick up the way his heart starts beating faster once the question slips from his mouth.
“Yeah, I do.”
Your honest response catches him off guard, and Jaemin almost stops in his tracks for a second time today, but he catches himself as his breath hitches in his throat.
“Oh? You found someone? Do I know them?” He clears his throat, and you hide a smile.
“You do know them very well actually.”
His heart stutters in his chest, but he steadies his voice. “Ah, is it Renjun? I know you said you had classes with him. Art, right? Or maybe Yukhei? You called him cute before. Or that dude in your finance class, Sungchan? What about—”
“Jaemin,” you cut him off gently before he shakes his head, babbling on, “No, let me guess! Is it that grad student, Eunwoo? Or your TA, Jungko—”
“Jaemin,” you interrupt him again, much more firmly this time, but he still pays no attention, rambling on until you grab his hand. Almost immediately, he shuts up, freezing up on the spot as his eyes zero in on your fingers wrapped around his.
“You’re holding my hand.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at your interlocked hands in awe. His head whips up to look at you, eyes filled with childlike wonder. “Why are you holding my hand?”
“Because…” You hesitate, your heart seizing up in your chest. Standing here on the line between love and friendship, you tremble. Fright and courage both run in your veins, and your first instinct may be to run, but your second instinct is to stay. Your final instinct is to take the leap. You’re not quite ready to take the big jump this time. For now, it’s a small one, but you take it.
“Because I like you.”
His heart stutters in his chest, and Jaemin’s eyes grow wide, jaw becoming slack. “You like me? As in like-like me?”
“I like-like you. A lot.” You give him a timid smile. “I think I've always liked you, maybe since freshman year, but it took me this long to figure it out. But Jaemin, I really, really like you.”
He’s speechless, and you bite your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. The bundle of nerves grows in your stomach until you can’t keep quiet anymore, piping up nervously, “So, um, will you go on a date with me?”
“Yes,” he breathes out. His eyes search yours, and it seems like he found his answer. Heart pounding in his chest, Jaemin laughs a little breathlessly in disbelief, replaying your confession in his head over and over again. You like him. You like him back. He wants to shout it from the rooftops and wear his heart on his sleeve, shirt, pants, heck, even his socks, just simply everywhere.
“So… does this mean I can take you on dates and hold your hand again and kiss you whenever I want, and you’ll call me yours?”
He fails to suppress the smile growing on his face, and your own face grows warm at his bold question, but you confirm it with a shy nod. He pulls you into his chest, unable to hold back any longer, wrapping his arms around you tightly because he finally can. You slip your arms around his neck, embracing him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, lips quirking up into a smile of relief and happiness.
So this is how it feels to want someone and to be wanted, he muses, a foreign but welcomed feeling settling in his bones, in between the cracks of his rib cage until it blossoms around his heart like a garden in spring. This is how it feels to be yours.
And this is how it feels to be his. This is how it feels to accept love. You decide that it’s a rather pleasant feeling, one that’s not at all scary—never when it comes to Jaemin.
“Say it again please. Say you like me,” he murmurs, just to make sure he isn’t dreaming. You tilt your head up slightly to meet his gaze, reaching up and interlocking your fingers behind his neck as you proudly proclaim:
“Na Jaemin, I like you so fucking much, pancake ass and all.”
Laughing gleefully, Jaemin beams at you, eyes crinkling in the corners and positively sparkling. “You know what? Just this once, I’ll let that booty comment slide.”
“Because you know it’s true.”
“It’s not!”
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xv. breakfast at tiffany’s jaemin’s.
“This is my secret pancake recipe, and only you and I know it, so you have to guard it with your life.”
You’re standing in front of the stove, one of Jaemin’s old T-shirts draped over your figure, the long hem barely letting the borrowed pair of boxers you’re wearing peek out from underneath it. Holding the spatula in one hand and grasping the frying pan’s handle in the other, you wait patiently for the pancake to cook as Jaemin hovers around you, gripping onto the empty batter bowl.
“I solemnly swear on your pancake booty that I won’t tell a soul about your recipe. Not even Giselle, who’s been trying to bribe me with green tea Kit Kat’s and boba for the past few months.”
Letting go of the pan’s handle, you playfully swat his behind for good measure as he turns to put the bowl in the sink. Whipping back to face you, he scowls, stomping his feet childishly as he whines, “My butt is not flat! It’s small, but it’s there!”
“You’re right, I’m sorry, your butt gives Kim Kardashian a run for her money,” you concede, and he laughs loudly, satisfied with your response. Jaemin wraps his arms around you, his hand enveloping yours as he helps you expertly flick the pan to flip the pancake. Your little gasp of excitement when it lands perfectly has him breaking out into a grin, and he nuzzles his nose against your hair before resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Tomorrow morning, I’m cashing in on that waffles offer you gave me. And I expect the full culinary experience. I’m talking about having your hand on my hand and helping me whisk the batter and crack eggs, and you have to kiss me all the time because my apron says so.”
You burst out laughing, and he sulks for a moment until you finally agree. This is the happiest you have ever felt. You turn your face slightly to look at him, eyes gleaming like all the stars from that fated night, and Jaemin smiles back at you, leaning over to press his lips against yours tenderly. Your heart beats faster than ever and louder than ever, but you aren’t as scared as you were six months ago.
Falling in love isn’t as terrifying as you thought anymore. Not when you’re not alone. Not when someone is there to catch you. Not when it’s with Jaemin. After all this time, he’s still the one who believes in you, the one who patiently waited, the one who selflessly stayed, the one who fiercely loves. With him, you never had to pretend. He’s seen you at your lowest and your highest, your best and your worst, the good and the bad. You’ve bared every single ugly, vulnerable side of yours to him.
And yet, he chose to stay. He stayed from the beginning, and he’ll stay until the end. He chose to love you. He chose you. There are over seven billion people on earth, and you know that they don’t all have to want you, to love you, but you managed to find someone who does. You found someone who wants you, someone who loves you: someone you love in return.
Love is not a feeling; love is a choice. Feelings are fleeting and ever-changing, but you will always choose Jaemin. Because that’s love. It is choosing to push through the adversaries and hardships together, rather than taking the easier route and walking away. It is choosing each other yesterday, today, tomorrow, and for all the days of your lives. It is choosing to stay. It is choosing to try.
And everyday, you want to try for him and for you. Because that’s what you do when you love someone—whether it be yourself or someone else. You try everyday to become a better person: to become someone who loves and is loved. It’s a long journey ahead, but he believes in you. You believe in you. And one day, you’ll be ready to say those three little words to him.
But for now, for you and for him, this is enough.
The green light at the end of the road, the anchor in the middle of a hurricane, the glimmer of hope that bursts into bright flames, you are no longer afraid. He makes you feel safe, invincible, and even if nothing else is certain and the world is ending, you know you’ll be okay with him by your side. Because you’ve found your way home.
Home. They say that is where the heart is, and you’ve given yours entirely to Jaemin. You feel at home when you’re with him, and that thought alone makes flowers bloom in your chest.
So this is how it feels.
So this is love.
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Y/N’s unofficial guide on how to be the best girlfriend:
1. have fun. 2. never forget to cuddle when you stay the night. 3. kisses in exchange for pancakes is always a good deal. 4. hook up with your boyfriend once (and many more times afterwards, but who’s counting?). 5. fall in love with a boy named Na Jaemin.
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author’s note :: this is the true ending i had in mind, but for an alternate ending: pussy (un)blocked, please go back to where flowers bloom ♡
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