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badasbebi · 1 day

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home is where the heart is ➛ ♡

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: new to seoul in search of revitalizing opportunities, you're excited to see what the city has in store for you. however, after numerous awkward encounters with your (hot) neighbor and other unfortunate circumstances, you start to doubt whether this move was right for you.

✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, neighbor!au, accidentally turned into a coffeeshop!au as well. maybe some slight angst?

✦ word count: 14k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors. switch!bada and switch!reader?? sort of?? y/n has a toy collection that could probably contribute to the production of toy story 5.

✦ a/n: initially really liked this story. then, i sat on it for three days, and now I'm not really a fan of this? i also feel like i forgot to how to write? hope yall still enjoy though! i have a few ideas I'm rlly excited abt anyway <3

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The elevator lobby echoes with the shuffling of your feet and the thud of the cardboard box shifting within your grasp. Your new apartment complex seems to grow larger with each step, the space stretching endlessly as you aim for one of the metal doors. The box, marked “fragile,” presses into your arms, and beads of sweat drip down your forehead as you internally curse at yourself for your excessive overpacking and stubbornness.

You don’t know who or what made you believe you were capable of doing this move entirely by yourself, but you are now facing the consequences for past you's groundless self-confidence. As you take a step forward, your arms wobble under the strain, and the box slips precariously, threatening to escape your grasp. You tighten your grip, determined not to let the flimsy box defeat you. You were not going to let a box labeled fragile, of all things, be the reason for your demise. No way.

While attempting to steady yourself, you vaguely hear a loud ping reverberate throughout the lobby. Like the easily hyperfixated person you are, you pay no mind to it, focusing only on the task at hand. The last thing you need is to drop the box and have its contents shatter against the floor. You would never forgive yourself.

Just as you pause to readjust the box, the elevator door opens, and footsteps follow it. A tall, dark-haired woman with bangs stumbles into the opening, her phone in her hands. She stops in her tracks, clearly distracted, and you foolishly walk straight into her.

The box falls from your grasp, and as it plummets to the ground, you have an out-of-body experience. This was it. The box is going to hit the ground, and you will have lost this uphill battle. In slow motion, you watch the box tilt backward and forwards, suspended in midair for what seems like forever until, suddenly, you feel your hand wrap around it. As you blink away the stars clouding your vision, you register that you've saved the box from certain doom, just barely. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.

A triumphant smile graces your lips as you clutch the box tightly. It’s a bit more crumpled than before, but it is still very much in one piece (ignoring the fact that the fragile item inside the box was most definitely broken). Gravity was no match for your superior reflexes.

As you look up, your smile falters. Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You just ran into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she is staring at you. Her eyes, framed by thick-rimmed glasses, gaze at you, wide and unblinking. She looks at you as if you were the most embarrassing thing she has ever seen, and it takes all your willpower not to turn around and run back down the hall.

Her long, dyed black hair hangs in a braid down her shoulder. Her outfit consists of a plain, oversized black t-shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of worn nikes. The only pops of color are the bright yellow socks poking out from underneath the white shoes, and the streaks of blonde in her hair.

"Oh, my god, I am so sorry!" you finally manage, stumbling over your words. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."

The woman seems to snap out of her daze with a vigorous shake of her head. "No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she responds with a small laugh. Her voice is light and melodic, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. She glances down at her phone, and a slight frown creases her forehead. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."

You give a small, awkward chuckle in response, but you feel your nerves ease a little. She didn't seem weirded out, thank the stars.

She glances down at the box, and her eyes widen as if she is just noticing its existence.

"Here, let me help you," she says as she effortlessly picks up and takes the box from your hands before you can even think to say no, a shiver running up your spine at the contact.

"You really don't have to," you protest weakly, making much of an effort to actually stop her.

"It's the least I can do after making you almost drop the box." She gives you a warm smile, and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly.

"Thank you." You return the smile, feeling the corners of your mouth twitch.

She turns on her heel and gestures to the elevator doors. "Where are you headed?" she asks, pressing the up button with her elbow.

"Uh, floor 8," you answer. She nods, and when the elevator doors open, the two of you step inside.

The combination of the woman's vanilla-scented perfume and elevator music does little to soothe your anxiety. You stand side-by-side in awkward silence. You shift uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks burn. What do you even say to a person this gorgeous? You clear your throat and will the courage to speak. You are an adult. You can talk to people. You got this! Just be casual. Easy peasy. Just say words! Just. say. them.

"So, uh, is this your first time using the elevator?" You wince.

Maybe not those words.

"No, I usually use the stairs." She says with a giggle, seemingly unfazed by your pathetic attempt at conversation. "But, um, is this your first time here?"

You nod. "I just moved here today." You pause. "How did you know?"

"I just—haven't seen you here before," she says simply, looking you up and down with an expression you can't quite decipher. "I'm Bada, by the way."

"Bada," you repeat, testing out the name on your tongue. It sounds nice. You smile, and the tips of your ears grow hot. "I'm Y/N."

"Y/N." She returns your smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes wander over to the numbers lit up on the panel, and your face pales when you see that the two of you are already on the eighth floor. The elevator slowly comes to a stop, and you swallow thickly. "Well, I guess this is my stop," you say as you step into the hallway.

"Did you want me to walk you to your apartment? This is actually the floor that I-" Bada starts, but a faint chime rings out before she can finish. She pulls her phone out, holding the box with one arm, and frowns at the screen.

"Ah, damn, I gotta go," she says. She looks back up at you and gives you a smile, although a little less bright. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. Do you think you can manage?"

You stare, momentarily perplexed by the kindness this random stranger is displaying towards you, but then you catch yourself, and smile.

You shake your head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I've got it. I'm a big girl," you reassure her. "Thank you for helping me, though."

She hands the box over, and your fingers brush again, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

"Of course," she replies, smiling. "Anytime. It was nice meeting you."

"Yup."

You give each other a brief wave, and you watch the elevator doors slide shut.

As you stare at the spot she was once at, you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest. You wish you could have gotten to know her better, but there was always another day. You lived in the same building, after all. Maybe you'd run into her again.

You struggle with the box a bit more, and then you finally enter your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.

The first thing you do is drop the box in the entryway and walk over to the nearest wall. You lean your back against it, sliding down until your butt hits the ground. You sit there for a moment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window across the room, trying to process everything that just happened. And, well, everything else that's been happening in your life.

As the sun dips below the skyline, casting long shadows across the city, you find yourself finally having to wrestle with contrasting feelings of excitement over this fresh start, mingled with a weariness that's settled into your bones after a day of moving boxes and thinking of the uncertainty surrounding the days ahead of you.

Just a month ago, you made the spontaneous decision to move to chase your dreams in Seoul, a country an entire ocean away from where you're from. Now you are in a new city, a new apartment, a potential new job, and you have mixed feelings. You're excited about the possibilities but also scared of the loneliness you know is inevitable. It is a loneliness that is necessary, though. You’ve spent too long stuck, moping about your unfortunate circumstances in the same mundane city you grew up in. You were aching for something new. As terrified as you are, you know that it’ll eventually feel worth it. It has to.

In the meantime, your living space echoes with emptiness and awaits your touch. Exhausted but determined, you eventually drag yourself off the ground, the weight of the day catching up to you, but not stopping you.

You scan the space in front of you, surrounded by the remnants of your previous life, now neatly packed into cardboard containers. The living room, cluttered with boxes marked "pictures," "books," and "memories," feels too overwhelming, so you decide to tackle the kitchen first. Igniting your last reserves of energy, you unpack your pots and pans as your thoughts drifts to old routines. As the clock ticks away and you find new sacred spots for your favorite items, your exhaustion begins to fade as you infuse the space with pieces of yourself, fueled by the realization that this is your sanctuary that you could call your own.

By the time you empty your last box for the day, the apartment glows with your presence. It’s nowhere near finished, but you already feel as if your choices have been validated. You collapse onto your makeshift bed, and as you close your eyes, a smile plays on your lips.

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"I asked for three and three-quarter pumps of brown sugar. Is this really the best you can do?"

You stare at the cup sitting before you. Three and three-quarters, your ass. Who the hell was going to measure that? You glance up at the man before you. His face is contorted into a snarl as he glares at you, as if he expects an apology. It takes everything in you not to throw the steaming hot cup of coffee in his face.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I believe that this is indeed three and one half—i mean—three quarter pumps," you lie, attempting to brush past your stumble in the calmest voice possible. You try to muster a professional smile, but it's a difficult feat.

"Bullshit. You clearly can't read a scale properly or hear. Just do it over, and make it right. Three and three QUARTERS," He huffs, shoving the cup in your direction.

Your fists clench behind the counter. "Yes, sir," you mutter through gritted teeth, your politeness hanging by a thread.

You dump his original drink in the trash and grab a fresh cup. The man watches as you add the pumps, one by one, ensuring that each one is added correctly. It is, and instead of being grateful that you did not put three and three-quarters of spit in his cup, he rolls his eyes, mumbling to himself about younger generations being too lazy to do their jobs right the first time. He takes the cup from you, without saying thank you, and struts off.

You sigh, shaking your head. You needed to get your blood pressure checked.

"You okay?" a voice asks.

You turn around, coming face to face with your coworker, Mijoo. She stands before you, leaning against the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face.

You groan, running a hand over your face. "I don't know how much longer I can take this. How have you worked here for this long?" you reply, your voice muffled by your hands.

Mijoo shrugs. "Honestly, you get used to it after a while. And on the rare occasion that you run into a genuinely nice customer, I promise they make up for the hundreds of shitty interactions."

Without moving your hands from your face, you state, “That doesn't make me feel any better."

Mijoo laughs, bright and bubbly, and pats your shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll get easier, I promise. You'll be desensitized in no time! Seriously, I feel nothing when people call me stupid, or an imbecile, or a bitch-"

You frown, dropping your hands. "Mijoo, that's awful."

Mijoo sighs and walks around the counter to wrap her arm around your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Just don't stress about it, okay? You'll be fine. Plus, we've got each other!"

You return the gesture, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're right."

Mijoo has been your rock throughout this whole process. She was the one who interviewed you for this crappy job, and she was the one who showed you the ropes inside and outside of the cafe you work at. In addition to showing you her go-to spot in the cafe for mental breakdowns, she's shown you her favorite spots in Seoul. If it weren't for her, you're sure you'd be a complete and utter wreck.

"What would I do without you?" you ask.

Mijoo chuckles, squeezing you tighter. "Probably have a lot more panic attacks," she replies, causing the two of you to erupt in laughter.

The alarm on your phone blares, signaling that it's time for you to go home. You and Mijoo share a dejected glance. You hated leaving her alone at the shop, but she always insisted that you go home before the rush. You had no choice but to agree.

"See you tomorrow," you tell her as you shrug on your jacket.

"Bright and early," she responds, throwing you a wave.

"Are you at least going home soon?"

She shakes her head. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to finish up, so I'll probably be here for a few more hours. I'll lock up."

You sigh. "Alright, but please text me when you get home."

She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Will do. Now, go. Go home and get some sleep, you deserve it."

You make your way to the entrance, giving Mijoo one last glance. She waves to you, a big grin on her face. When you open the door and step out, the bell above you chimes.

As the crisp air hits your face, you can feel the tension drain from your body. A content smile graces your lips, and you can feel your mood instantly improving. Even though your job was stressful, there was nothing quite like coming home after a long shift.

The sun has already begun to set, and the streets are bustling. People pass by you, not paying attention as they make their way home. Some have earphones in, while others are on their phones. You watch as couples and groups of friends chat and laugh as they make their way to whatever destination they have in mind. You feel a small pang of loneliness in your chest.

Your apartment isn't too far from your work, so you reach your destination quickly despite the heaviness in your heart. You're exhausted, and all you want to do is go home, cook dinner, and crawl into bed.

You ride the elevator to your floor, and you're reminded of the time you ran into Bada months ago. Her name echoed through your head every time you heard this elevator music, which was every day. You haven't seen her since that day, which wasn't really a surprise. It was a big building.

When the doors open, you make a beeline to your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. As soon as you unlock your door, you practically skip inside. You immediately slip off your shoes and toss your jacket and keys onto the counter. You let out a satisfied sigh as you plop down on the couch, closing your eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. After a few minutes, you hear your phone ping. Yelping, you sit up and pull it out of your pocket, hoping it's the text you've been anticipating from a landlord. Disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach when you see it's just a spam email. Groaning, you drop the phone onto the couch next to you.

You sit there, wallowing in your misery and loneliness. The quiet hum of the AC does little to soothe your worries.

You miss your friends, but the distance has made it hard for them to keep up with you, and vice versa. They all had lives, and jobs, and families. But you didn't. All you had was an empty apartment. And you had Mijoo, but you felt terrible relying on her for everything.

As you’re ruminating on the pathetic reality of your social life, a loud bang comes from the wall behind you. You jump in shock and quickly turn to look at the source. You can barely make out a muffled, feminine voice, saying something that sounds like a curse. Seconds later, music starts playing through the walls. Loud, bass-heavy music. You sit up, your hand hovering over the plaster, feeling perplexed. You haven't heard anyone in the apartment next to you since you moved in. You just assumed you were neighborless. Maybe someone new moved in? You haven't seen anyone with boxes or anything all week, though, and there's no way someone just managed to move in within the last 8 hours.

A beat passes. You can feel the vibrations from the loud music rattling the walls. You frown, and walk over to the wall. You raise a hand and knock loudly, but it's useless. You sigh. There was no way you could relax with this noise.

You turn away from the wall, and pick your phone up in case you need to dial 119 during this confrontation. You make your way out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you and ignoring how your heart pounds in your ears. You walk to the door next to yours and, after a moment of hesitation, knock loudly. The music stops, and your heartbeat slows. The door remains closed, so you knock again, even harder this time.

After what feels like an eternity, the door finally swings open, revealing a woman you thought you'd never see again.

"Bada?" you question, bewildered.

"Hey," she replies, sounding equally surprised. She's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. You can smell a faint hint of sweat. She's still gorgeous, though.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hide your shock.

She looks behind her, as if to verify that she's in the correct place, then turns back around. "This is my apartment," she states, slowly, as if she's speaking to a child requiring stabilization.

"Since when?"

She laughs at this, and your heart flutters. "Since I've lived here. Which is a long time, considering this is the second year."

"No, I mean," you pause, searching for the right words. "I haven't seen you around? I mean, you're right next door. There's no way I could've missed you."

Her lips form an 'o' shape, and she nods. "Ah, well, I travel a lot for work so I haven't been home much. I was out of the country for a while."

You nod, "Oh. That makes sense. Well, see ya!"

You turn on your heel and make your way back towards your apartment, embarrassment beginning to flood through your body, when Bada's voice stops you.

"Hey, wait."

You turn around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She looks amused. "Are you going to tell me why you came knocking? Or did you just want to see me?"

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. "What? No, I'm sorry, I-"

She interrupts you with a laugh. "Relax, I'm joking."

You nod, feeling relieved. You weren't sure why this woman made you feel so incompetent. "Well, it’s the music. It's really loud, and-"

"Oh, shit," she cuts in, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to having neighbors. It's been a while since someone lived next door."

"It's totally fine, it's just...a bit much."

"Gotcha," she replies.

You stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can feel yourself begin to sweat. You clear your throat. "Well, I should probably go now."

She nods, a slight frown on her face. "Okay. See you around."

"See ya," you reply, awkwardly, before walking away.

When you reach your door, you let out a deep breath As annoyed and embarrassed as you were, seeing her again was a bit of a pleasant surprise. She seemed even more beautiful now than she did in the elevator. Your mind wanders back to the sleeveless shirt she had on. The hair bun that gave you a clear view of her neck, her jawline, her collarbones.

You shake the thought from your head and walk into your apartment. You needed to put yourself out there, soon. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch, and now you can barely look at an attractive woman without spiraling into a frenzy.

You decide to go take a shower and call it an early night, hoping that a session with Rosalia 3000 will ease your mind.

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You stand behind the counter, boredly wiping down the surfaces. It's a slow day, and Mijoo is off, finally using her vacation days. The cafe is mostly empty, save for a few students studying in the corner. You've already cleaned the entire place twice today, and the clock hasn't even struck 4 o'clock yet. It was days like these that you hated most. As much as you disliked angry customers, having to stand behind the counter doing nothing all day was enough to make you want to claw your eyes out.

You sigh, and lean back against the counter. You check your phone, just in case you missed any messages you’ve been waiting for. When the screen loads, the familiar white background greets you, with no new notifications.

You lock the screen, and stuff the device into the pocket of your apron. You look around the cafe, hoping to find something to occupy your mind. Your eyes land on the display cases of cakes on the far end of the counter, and an idea pops into your head.

You grab a bag of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and baking powder from the storage room. You mix the ingredients together, and add a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. After about ten minutes, the batter is ready, and you scoop some into a pastry bag. You start to pipe the dough into shapes, filling the space. The familiar motion relaxes you, and you can feel the stress slowly leaving your body. There were only a select few people in the cafe who were permitted to contribute to the array of treats your cafe housed. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of those people, leaving you little time to partake in your passion in between busy shifts and tiring days. You needed this.

Working quickly, you fill up the space within 30 minutes. After placing the cookies in the backoven, you start cleaning up the counter, throwing away any leftover bits of dough and tossing the used bowls and utensils into the sink. When you finish cleaning the area as best as you can, you turn back around, and your eyes widen as you realize you aren't alone.

Standing before you, his arms crossed, is the man with the ridiculous coffee order from a couple days ago. Yikes.

"Um," you begin, trying to keep your voice from wavering."Can I help you?"

"I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he begins, and you can hear the aggravation in his voice. "Do you not know how to do your job?"

"I-"

"So you’re not just a terrible barista, you’re a terrible worker too,” he spits out.“There are barely any people in this cafe and you can’t keep up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep the anger bubbling up inside of you at bay. "Sir, I apologize for not noticing you sooner, but I’ll be happy to assist you now."

"Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s your manager?”

Your eye twitches. “He isn’t here right now. I can assure you I’ll be able to help you with anything you need."

"Well do you have a way to contact him? A phone number? Zoom?”

You shake your head. "Sorry, sir. Our manager prefers that we only contact him when he is away if there’s an emergency.”

He releases a maniacal laugh, then immediately straightens his face. “Is this not an emergency? How is this not an emergency when the service in this shop is so fucked that you don’t see a customer standing in plain sight for ten minutes?”

You blink. “I thought—never mind. Sir, again, I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, I can give you this drink on the house and—"

He cuts you off. "I don't want a refund. I want better quality of service…”

He drones on, and at this point you tune him out. There was nothing you could do or say to satisfy him. Really, the irony of the situation just made you want to laugh. He was complaining about you wasting his time, and by doing so was wasting even more time. Did this man actually have a job other than being a menace to innocent baristas? Probably not. As you mindlessly watch the man flail his arms in exasperation, you hear the bell above the entrance ring. You’re about to glance over, when the man in front of you slams his palm on the counter, demanding your attention.

"I'm not done yet! I've spent the last fifty six minutes telling you everything you're doing wrong, and you've barely apologized. In fact—"

"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady.

"What?" His mouth hangs open.

You cross your arms. "You are disrupting the environment and harassing me.”

"Harassing?" He repeats, incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”

You roll your eyes. "I'm not kicking you out. You are free to stay and order anything you'd like. If, however, you choose to continue to cause a scene, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted off the premises."

His eyes narrow, and this time he crosses his arms. "Yeah? And who’s gonna escort me?”

Customer service thrown out the window, you open your mouth to call him a prickly little bitch, but are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure walking up beside him.

"Leave her alone," a familiar voice states. You look over, and realize the individual you’re looking at is Bada, who towers over the man beside her.

The man scoffs, and looks her up and down. "Excuse me? Mind your own.”

"This is her cafe, and she has a right to kick you out if you're being disruptive."

"I'm not bothering anyone," the man retorts.

"Well, you’re bothering me. I’ve had to stand here and watch you squeal for the past few minutes and quite frankly it's starting to piss me off. If you don’t leave, I'll escort you out myself."

The man opens his mouth, presumably to spit some more venom, but the sight of Bada's clenched fists and murderous glare causes him to snap his mouth shut. He glares at the two of you for a moment, before turning on his heel and stalking off.

Both of you watch him leave. As the door closes behind him, you witness the door swing shut with surprising speed, smacking into Mr. Grumpington's rear end just as he reaches the threshold. Stumbling forward with a startled yelp, his briefcase flies out of his grasp, scattering papers across the sidewalk.

Your hand flings up, over your mouth as you observe him stand slowly, his knees wobbling. A woman and her child pass by him with bewildered expressions, and you repress your laughter. Once he gathers himself, he shoots a withering glare in the direction of the café, and storms off.

Old man finally gone, Bada turns back to you, her expression soft. "Sorry. I know I probably overstepped, but I saw the whole thing and I was worried he was going to hurt you.”

You sober up and shake your head, smiling slightly. "No, it's okay. He was being an asshole and I didn't know what to do with him. I'm glad you were here."

Bada returns your smile, and you're once again taken aback by her. “Anytime."

"I have cookies, if you'd like some," you offer, suddenly remembering the sweets baking in the oven. "On the house, for the trouble."

Bada's eyes light up. "I'd love some! And an iced latte, please.”

You nod. "Sure. Have a seat and I'll bring it out."

Bada takes a seat in a booth in the corner, and pulls out a laptop. As the coffee brews, you glance at her as she types and reads something on the screen, her expression concentrated. She purses her lips as as she focuses on whatever she’s looking at, and you find yourself staring.

She looks up, catching your eye. You blush, and spin around to face the display case, pretending to wipe it down. You grab the iced latte and a plate of cookies, and walk over to Bada.

"Thanks!" she says, smiling, and grabs a cookie. She takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.

"Good, right?" you question, a smile tugging at your lips.

"So good!" she affirms, her cheeks full of the pastry.

You break into a wide grin that you’re not sure is because of the woman’s cuteness, or the pride blooming in your chest. "Thanks. I made them."

She raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really? Woah. I'm impressed."

Playing nonchalant, you shrug. "It's whatever."

She laughs. "It's not whatever! These would sell out in seconds if you displayed them in here," she remarks, grabbing another one.

You're reminded of the call you're still waiting on, and try to dispel the anxiousness growing inside you. That’s the plan, just not here. You decide not to bring that up, though. You dont wanting to put a damper her spirits with your oversharing.

But you're not tired of hearing her praises. "You think?"

"Definitely,” she confirms. "I'll come by every day to buy a dozen.”

"I'll hold you to it."

"Please do," she responds, and you swear you detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. Before you can retort, a notification pops up on her computer, and her eyes dart down. She sighs.

"Everything alright?" you ask.

She nods, but her brows are furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just stressed. My job has been keeping me super busy lately."

You nod, and hesitate before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"

"Oh," she answers, her face clearing up. "I'm a dancer. And I choreograph for kpop groups."

Your eyes widen. "Whoa. That's cool."

"Thanks," she responds. She pauses for a moment, and she looks like she wants to say more. "It is, but...I don't know, sometimes these companies get on my nerves." She says with a tired laugh.

You're a bit surprised by her confession, and the dejected look on her face makes your heart hurt. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs. "They're never quite satisfied with what we do and it sucks, you know? The only time I have fun is when I'm working with a company that doesn't treat their artists like shit."

You frown. "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how frustrating that is. I'm sorry."

She smiles, looking sheepish. "No, I'm sorry for venting. It's been a long week."

You shake your head. "Don't apologize. You're saving me from having to clean the counter for the nth time today."

She smirks. "I thought the jerk from earlier was already doing that?"

"Oh god, please don't bring him up again." You groan, and she giggles in a way that makes your chest warm.

"Don't worry. He won't bother you anymore. I scared him away," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. You're about to ask her another question when you hear the bell on the door chime. You look over, and see a group of college students walking in. Your stomach drops.

"Guess it's time for me to actually do my job,” you mutter.

She nods. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could talk more after you're done? Walk home together?"

Walk home together? You should’ve put on a better perfume today. "Sure, but I'm gonna be here for another couple hours."

She slaps her hands together. “That’s actually perfect. I have a bunch of videos to review anyway. I'll be here." She gives you a small wave, and returns to her laptop. You walk away, unable to contain your grin.

And she is there. As the night drags on, as the rush comes in and finally calms, as the clock strikes 8, and as you close the doors.

You turn the keys, locking the door. You turn around, and she's there, waiting for you, laptop in hand. She kicks a rock and it skitters away, hitting a lamppost. When she notices you watching, she offers a shy smile.

"Ready to go?" she asks.

"Sure am," You respond, and the two of you start heading down the street.

The air is warm and the night sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly. You glance over at her, and admire the way the streep lamps lights up her face. Her eyes are focused ahead, and you stare at her profile. She notices you staring, and turns her head, smiling softly.

"What's up?" she questions.

You shake your head and face forward, wanting to crawl in a hole at your slip-up. "Nothing." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This is silly. You've seen this woman plenty of times recently. Hell, you were just in the cafe together not even fifteen ago. But now, walking side-by-side with her, the air between you heavy, you can't help but feel a need to impress her. The idea that you could possibly have a friendship (or more?) with her makes your heart soar. It's silly, and maybe a bit childish, but you're not one to let a good feeling pass by. So, you take a chance, wanting to make this work.

"So, I don't know much about you, but I'd love to," you begin, and her gaze darts towards you. "Tell me about yourself. You said you were a dancer, right?"

"Oh, yeah." She nods. "I started dancing when I was a kid. It was fun, but I didn't start taking it seriously until I was older. I started out doing covers, and eventually landed an audition with a company. That's how I got my foot in the door, and then I kept climbing and now I'm here."

"That's amazing," you tell her. "I'm guessing it's a lot of hard work?"

She nods. "Definitely. It's rewarding, though."

You want to know more, so you ask her more questions, and you follow into comfortable chatter as she tells you all about her life. She asks you a few questions too, some of which you avoid, like why you moved here, or why you're working at the cafe that you obviously dislike. But, overall, the conversation flows easily, and before you know it, the two of you are standing in front of your apartment building.

As the two of you approach the lobby, Bada speaks. "We should do this more often."

"Which part? Walking home together, or me talking your ear off about the ending of Twenty-Five Twenty-One?"

"Mostly the first part. Although I didn't mind hearing you talk about that kdrama. The lead actress is really hot."

You snort, and she follows suit. "You know, I'm glad you came into the cafe today," you confess.

"Me too." She responds, and the two of you stop in front of your door. You're unsure of what to say next, but Bada steps forward, and you tense. Was this really happening?

But then she's inching away, her hands tucked into her pockets. You relax, and ignore the slight disappointment built up in your chest. Duh, you think, shaking your head. What were you expecting?

"Well, have a good night." You say, offering her a small smile.

"You too," she says. "I'll see you soon."

She waves, and you watch her go, before unlocking the door and walking into the apartment. You close your door behind you, and lean against it, releasing a breath.

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Over the next week, you see Bada in passing in the hallway multiple times. Each time she sees you, she stops and says hi, and you talk for a bit. She stops by the cafe a few times too, although she hasn't been able to walk home with you again yet, having a late-night schedule nearly everyday.

But each encounter makes your heart race, and by the end of the week, you feel like your chest might explode. You're not sure the attraction is reciprocated, but even if it is, would she actually be interested in someone like you? Someone who had to deal with a shitty customer service job, was running increasingly low on money, had a terrible sleep schedule, and was depending on one call to determine whether or not this move was a mistake? Probably not. The videos you've been watching for the past hour have made that evident.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you finally looked up Bada about an hour ago. It didn't take long for her to pop up. A ton of information about her was available, from her birthday, to her favorite food, to her shoe size. You mostly ignored that stuff, opting to watch her choreography videos instead. A horrible mistake. She was undeniably talented and captivating, and watching her perform made you feel a million things all at once, the most powerful being desire, much to your dismay. Why was that woman always humping the floor?

After watching the last video, which was a choreography of a popular girl group's song, you shut your computer and lean back on the couch. You stare at the wall separating your apartment from hers, wondering what she's doing right now. Is she getting ready for bed? Did she have a busy day? Is she thinking of you, like how you're thinking of her? Doubtful, but the thought makes your stomach flip.

A notification from your phone interrupts your pity party. You assume it's a notification about a delivery you have coming, but you're surprised to see a text from one of your hometown friends.

Jasmine: heyyy how is everything going over there!

Jasmine: opened up your dream bakery yet?

Not this. You really, really do not want to get into this right now, especially with your friends and family from home, who had high expectations for you. But they were your friends, and you didn't want to keep them in the dark. You take a deep breath, and respond.

y/n: almost. just working at a cafe while I'm getting everything settled.

You wait a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. You sigh. Another thing you miss from home—texting your friends in real time. It would have been nice to be able to vent.

You're about to stand up when you get a response.

Jasmine: oh okay! just be careful not to fall into the same trap you were in here. I don't want you working yourself to death :(

y/n: i won't.

Jasmine: good.

Jasmine: anyway, met anybody cute out there yet?

You stare at the screen, and you can't help but smile.

y/n: yes.

Jasmine: OMG!!!

Jasmine: details plz!

You laugh.

y/n: it's none of your business, lol.

Jasmine: come ooooon y/n!

y/n: nope! I don't want to jinx anything

Jasmine: fine. just keep me updated.

You're about to respond, but a knock at your front door startles you. You set your phone down, and walk over to the door, looking through the peephole, and speak of the devil: It's Bada.

You quickly comb a hand through your hair and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, trying not to look flustered.

"Hey!" you greet.

"Hi." She responds, and you immediately recognize that something is decidedly off. She looks tense. Her brows are furrowed, and she’s avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight from side to side awkwardly. You see her clutching something behind her back, but cannot make out what it is.

"Um, are you okay?" you ask hesitantly, half-ready to grab the (tall and grown) woman to pull her inside your apartment to protect her from potential imminent dangers.

"Yeah. I just-um. I think your package was delivered to the wrong address?" She pulls her arm from behind her back, and hands you a large box with it flipped to the bottom. "Sorry."

"Oh!" you take the package, are immediately met with the recipient name printed in bold font that is, of course, addressed to you. "Thank you. Sorry about that."

"No worries." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I'll, uh, see you around."

"Yeah, definitely."

She walks away, and you're left standing in the doorway, a bit confused. That was...weird. You step back inside, shutting the door. You set the package down on the coffee table, and just as you are about to rip it open, you make eye contact with the imagery on the front of the package.

Your eyes widen. Oh no. How could you have forgotten?

There, plastered across the front of the box, was a clear picture of a very suggestive toy. You read the words below the image.

"Battery-Operated Love: Your Guide To The Best Vibrators, Toys, and Dildos!"

You stare. You blink. You look around, as if someone is playing a prank on you. You stare some more.

Then, you hurriedly reach for the throw pillow sitting next to you on the couch, and scream into it.

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You sigh, tapping your foot against the floor to the rhythm of humming washers. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking out, and you're currently in the laundry room in your building, waiting for your clothes to dry.

It's been a few days since your package fiasco, and Bada hasn't made another appearance. You'd say she's trying to avoid you, but in reality, you’re the one going out of your way to steer clear of her potential judgments. You've even taken to staying in late, leaving the apartment only to go to work, where you've adjusted your schedule to further avoid the woman in case she tried to stop by. You acknowledge the fact that you're probably overreacting. It wasn't that big of a deal. You're a grown woman with needs! And you weren't going to let those needs fester when you had such an accessible way of gratifying them. You couldn't let the hard work that ancient physicians put into developing such helpful products go to waste. You love to support small businesses!

Although, you weren’t a big fan of the one you ordered from this time. So much for "discreet packaging.”

You stand up, deciding to grab a drink from the vending machine outside to cool your nerves. You reach the lobby, and walk towards the corner, where the row of machines are lined up in front of windows that belong to the gym. You insert your coins, press a few buttons, and wait for your drink. The vending machine is old, and the whirring and clanging of the dispensing mechanism are loud, so it takes longer than usual.

You glance around as you wait, and your eyes finally settle on the windows. You squint, noticing a familiar silhouette performing a series of exercises.

Bada is inside, doing pull-ups. Her back is to you, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shorts. Sweat drips from her forehead and down her back, and the muscles in her arms flex and move with each lift.

You feel your throat dry up. The machine spits out the can, and you grab it. You hesitate for a moment, and then step forward, pushing open the glass door leading into the gym as if you were moving on autopilot. You don't know what you're doing.

"Hey!" you greet.

She turns around, eyes wide, and lowers herself onto the ground. "Hi."

"How are you?" you ask.

"Good! Just finishing up my workout," she answers, reaching for the towel draped on a bench beside her.

"Cool," you answer, trying not to focus on the way her chest heaves as she catches her breath.

"What about you? Haven't seen you around lately," she says, wiping the sweat from her neck.

"I've been busy," you lie, weakly holding up your can. "Just got something from the vending machine while I'm waiting for my laundry. Probably gonna head out and run some errands after this.”

"Ah, okay." She nods, and reaches for a water bottle. You watch her tilt her head back, gulping down the liquid, her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallows. Your eyes travel to her neck, and her collarbone, which is exposed, and the droplets of sweat that rest on her skin. You watch her throat move, and suddenly, your mind is filled with images of her lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your throat, and you're overcome with desire.

You swallow, then continue rambling, trying to rid yourself of your debauched thinking. "Yup, heading over to Itaewon with a friend tonight. Probably won't be back home until tomorrow morning!" you say with the projection of a teenage boy who had his first drink yesterday. You weren't lying this time, though. After the incident, you were humbled into a state of reflection. You wanted to try putting yourself out there, and potentially find gratification beyond something that was battery-powered. Mijoo was ecstatic to hear this, and immediately sent you a list of clubs she and her friends frequented.

"Sounds fun." She takes another sip, and sets the bottle down. "Hope you have a good time. Actually, do you have time to do me a favor before you get back to your laundry?"

"What kind of favor?" you ask, a bit suspicious.

"Can you spot me?" she asks, and you're confused for a moment. She gestures towards a padded spot on the floor. "I was gonna do some more reps, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me—um—make sure my form was right. f you don't have time, that's fine, I can ask someone else."

"No!" you answer. She jerks her head back in confusion, and you flush at your stumble. "No, I have time. I can spot you."

"Awesome! Thanks so much," she says with her signature heartwarming grin. "I'll just do a couple of sets. It shouldn't take too long.”

”I should warn you that I don’t know anything about weightlifting. Or strength exercises. Or cardio—”

"Not a problem. I’ll just do sit-ups." She reassures as she sits on the floor, and lies down.

“Oh. Okay,” you felt like you were in grade school. "Are we counting or not counting?"

"Um, counting would be helpful," she says.

You nod, and kneel beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense for a second, but are quickly distracted trying not to focus on the way the damp fabric of her shirt sticks to her skin. "Okay. Ready when you are."

You count, and with each sit-up, the muscles in her arms flex, her jaw tightens, and her breathing becomes labored. You're in such close proximity to her, her arm brushes against yours every time she goes down. The heat radiating from her body is palpable, and you feel yourself begin to sweat, the air becoming hot.

When she's finished, she falls back onto the mat, and you release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. She gets up, and wipes the sweat from her forehead.

"Well, that was fun," she says, standing up to grab her stuff.

"Yeah, it sure was," you murmer, trying to hide the fact that you're completely out of breath despite doing nothing but count. You stand up, and follow her out the door. "See you later, Bada."

Bada waves, looking you over once more in a manner that makes your insides twist, before turning around a speed-walking toward the elevators.

You take a minute to breathe and head back into the laundry room, where your clothes are ready. Instead of grabbing them, you collapse into one of the cheap folding chairs in the corner of the room. Your clothes are probably tinier at this point, but you can't bring yourself to move. Why did you even walk in there in the first place? You knew well that you weren’t capable of acting normal in front of that woman.

You remind yourself of your plans with Mijoo tonight. A club. In the city. With pretty people. Where alcohol was served.

You take a deep breath, and stand up, taking your clothes and throwing them in your basket.

You'd be fine.

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An ear-splitting wail from the girl next to you almost makes you drop your drink.

"I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" the woman screeches, and Mijoo, who is currently attempting to console her, rolls her eyes.

"Honey, please, don't make a scene."

"But it's true! I'm a loser, and I'm going to die alone! I might as well stop trying!”

"No, you're not, just stop drinking," Mijoo responds, her voice a few octaves higher in annoyance. She glances at you, and rolls her eyes.

The two of you are at the gay bar in Itaewon, and after an hour and a half, it seems that the night is coming to an end. Mijoo's friend, Naeun, had a mental breakdown after spotting her ex-girlfriend making out with the woman she told her not to worry about. After that, the mood was completely killed. Naeun feigned nonchalance at first.That relationship was seven months ago, she said. I’ve moved on, she said. I’ve had better, she said. it was almost convincing, until you saw her gulp down three shots at a pace you did not know was humanly possible.

And now…

"It's like, you don't listen to anything I say," Naeun sniffles, and you genuinely feel bad for her. You give her a gentle pat on the back, and she turns to hug you.

"I know, I'm a horrible friend or whatever. Let's just go home and eat ice cream or something," Mijoo sighs, and the two of you help Naeun stand.

"Yes. Thank you. You guys are the best," she whimpers. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do," Mijoo assures.

"Yeah, it's all good," you chime in. "Let's just get you home. I think you've had enough alcohol for the next week. Or year."

You and Mijoo drag her out of the bar and into the streets of Itaewon. It's dark, and the neon lights illuminate the sidewalks, where drunk patrons stumble through. You're a little buzzed, and Naeun's deadweight is difficult to carry. Somehow, you manage to get her onto the subway, and inside your building, which is closest. When you reach your front door, you can't help but glance over at Bada's apartment, and are surprised to see a light peeking through the crack between the door and the frame.

"You live here?" Naeun slurs, and you nod, opening the door and dragging her in.

"We'll put her on the couch. Do you mind if we stay over?" Mijoo suggests.

"Not at all," you agree, and the two of you set her down. She groans, and closes her eyes, stretching across your couch in a starfish position. Her dress has risen all the way up to her stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care, You grimace at the sight. "Poor thing."

"She'll be fine," Mijoo says, waving her off. "Come on, I’m starving,"

You follow her into your kitchen and lean against the counter as she reaches into your fridge to pours herself a drink. So much for ice cream.

"Sorry our plans fell through," she apologizes, and you shrug.

"It's not a big deal. Shit happens. Besides, I had fun even though we were only out for, like, five seconds," you answer.

She takes a sip of the liquid in her cup. “We can try again next week? I'll make sure that Naeun is mentally stable next time."

"I don’t know. That doesn’t sound as fun,” you joke, and she grins.

"You’re so right,” she pauses as she opens your fridge back up, and gasps. "Ooh, y/n, can I have one of these?"

"One of what?" you ask, peering over her shoulder, only to find her holding cupcake that you'd made earlier. "Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."

She rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite, moaning. "Wow, this is—"

A loud thump sounds from the other side of the wall, and the two of you turn your heads, eyes wide.

"Is that your neighbor?" Mijoo whispers, and the two of you stand still, listening intently. There are a few more thumps, and then a sharp gasp.

"I think she's fucking someone," Mijoo whispers, and then a moan sounds from the other side, followed by a string of curse words, and the bed frame slams against the wall, a rhythmic knocking echoing throughout the apartment.

Naeun sits up from where she's sitting on the couch, and mechanically states, "I need to call her."

"Don't you dare," Mijoo growls, aggressively pointing a finger at the pitiful girl. Naeun whines, and collapses back onto the couch, and you continue to stare at the wall with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.

You're quiet, listening to the creeks of the bed, the groans, the panting, the curses, and, despite the situation, you can’t help but feel…curious. You’d usually be irked by this situation, reminded of the particularly horrific nights you’d have when you lived with a roommate in your younger years. As made evident by the fluttering in your stomach (and in other parts of your body) you, this was not that. Not even close.

Mijoo laughs. "Oh my god, does this usually happen?"

You snap out of your stupor. "Uh, no, actually. She's usually pretty quiet."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And besides, she's sweet, so it's kind of weird hearing this, but, uh, it's whatever," you reply, attempting to ignore a squeal that vaguely resembles Bada's name.

The bed's movements pick up speed, and the sounds become louder.

"Oh my god," Mijoo murmurs, covering her ears. Naeun starts crying again.

"She's gonna fuck her to death," Naeun sobs, and then the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. You walk over to the living room, and pat her on the back.

"Come on, let's get you to sleep," you say, helping her up. "You can have the bed. Mijoo and I will take the couch."

"Thank you, I love you both so much," she blubbers, and you drag her into the bedroom, tucking her into the bed.

"We're gonna stay in the living room, so holler if you need us, okay?" you tell her, and she nods.

"I love you guys," she slurs, and then passes out, mouth wide open.

"She’s so dramatic," Mijoo cackles as you close the door.

You and Mijoo get ready to go to sleep, and soon enough the obscene noises from next door are gone. But, as you fall asleep on the couch, they still ring in your head.

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"I'm so sorry for the way I acted last night." Naeun apologizes, a pout on her face. You wave her off. “Don't worry, you're good. At least you gave us some entertainment while you were at it. Are you okay, though?"

She shrugs, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, it was a pretty big blow, but I'll get over it. She's not worth the tears."

"Atta girl," Mijoo cooes, patting Naeun's head. She turns to you, and smiles. "Thanks for letting us stay over, y/n."

You open your front door, and wave. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you guys later."

Just as the two girls step out, the door to the apartment next to yours opens. You all look to the side, and notice a disheveled woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick exiting into the hallway. You and Mijoo exchange glances as the woman's eyes meet yours. She gives a small, awkward smile when she notices the three of you, and then bows before hurrying down the hallway.

"Was that your neighbor?" Mijoo asks, and you shake your head.

The actual neighbor in question steps into the hallway, and the three of you watch her with wide eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair cascading down her back.

Bewildered by your stares, she looks at the three of you with confusion.

"Hello," she greets, bowing, and the three of you bow back. "How are you?"

Naeun's eyes become the size of saucers. "Y-you're Bad—"

"Good!" Mijoo interrupts, and gives a wide, forced smile. "We're all doing well."

"That's good," Bada replies, giving a polite nod. She looks at you, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards. "Hi, y/n. Nice seeing you."

After last night’s noises, her politeness makes you want to laugh. or scream. or cry. You return the smile, gripping your doorknob until your knuckles turn white. "Yeah, nice seeing you, too."

She turns her attention back to the other two, waves, then walks off.

Mijoo and Naeun immediately whip around to face you.

"Your neighbor is Bada Lee?!" Naeun screeches.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mijoo yells, and you step back.

"Bye guys!" you say, closing the door on the two of them.

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Shortly before closing, the bell rings.

"Hello!" you chirp. "Welcome to—oh, hello!"

"Hey, y/n." Bada waves.

"Hey," you say, even though the two of you already said hello. "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Great, thanks," she responds, staying put in front of the door. "Uh, I actually came here to, um, ask if you wanted to walk home together? I was just passing by, and I thought maybe we could just, like, walk back. At the same time. Since we both have to, um, go there. To our respective homes. I know it's been a while, but I thought it'd be fun. I-if you want some company, I mean. Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to, I'm just—"

"Bada," you interrupt, and she looks up, her eyes meeting yours. "I'd love to."

She blinks. "You would?"

The look of surprise on her face almost startles you back into hesitation. Why wouldn’t you want to spend time with the woman? Even with all the moments you’ve wanted to bury yourself in a hole because of your embarrassment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever say no.

Untying your apron from around your waist, you nod. "Yeah! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."

"Okay." She grins. "Thanks."

You pick up your belongings, clock out, and the two of you stepping outside. You lock the doors, and begin to walk towards your building.

"So, how was your night yesterday?" Bada asks, and you almost trip at the reminder of yesterday’s events.

"Uh, it was fine," you reply, clearing your throat. "What about yours?"

"Oh, it was, um, good." She nods.

I’m sure it was, you think. You look at the ground, biting the inside of your cheek. "That's good."

The two of you walk in silence, and now you feel awkward. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The only sounds surrounding you are of the rustling of the trees, and the occasional passing car.

"Was that your girlfriend?" she suddenly blurts out, and you whip your head around to look at her.

"Huh?"

"Last night, when I ran into the three of you in the hallway. Were one of those girls your girlfriend? Or…”

"No, neither of them," you reply, shaking your head. "One of them is Mijoo, the coworker I told you about, and her friend, Naeun. They came over after we went to a bar."

"Ah." She nods, looking at the sidewalk, and your eyes narrow. You swear you see a small smile on her face.

"What about your girl?" you ask, and her head shoots up.

"My girl?"

"Yeah. Was the girl that was over last night your girlfriend?"

"Oh, no, no, she wasn't," she quickly answers.

"Hm," you hum. And then, your next words spill from your mouth before you can even process them. "I would've thought so with all of the…screaming that was going on."

"W-what?" she stammers, freezing in her tracks.

"Uh," you say, stopping as well. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Did you hear...us?" she asks, her voice quiet, and you can't bear to look at her. Why did you speak up? You didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Or worse, think of you as a creep for listening in.

"Yes," you murmur, and she lets out a groan, her face turning a shade of pink.

"I am so, so sorry. I thought you were gone. Oh my god, that is so embarrassing." She buries her face in her hands, and despite your previous regrets, you bite your lip to suppress a giggle. Her reaction was too cute.

"It's okay, really," you assure, and she drops her hands, still refusing to look at you. You smile, and continue walking. "Don't worry about it."

"But that's so embarrassing," she whines, and you laugh again.

"You were clearly having a good time."

"Yeah, but I didn't want you to hear," she sighs, and you pat her back.

"Well, at least we're even now."

"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.

Uh oh. She probably already forgot about the delivery situation, and you just brought it up for no reason. What the fuck was up with you right now? You were just saying anything.

"Oh, nevermind. Forget about it," you respond, waving her off.

"What was it, though? I haven't heard you…uh…do anything before," she protests, and you shrug, trying to brush her off.

"Nope! Forget about it! I confused you with someone else," you rush out, picking up your pace as you make eye contact with your building.

"You have another neighbor that could’ve potentially heard you having sex?" she replies, clearly confused, as she jogs slightly to catch up.

"No idea!" you sing, and open the door, stepping into the lobby.

"This makes no sense. Now I’m not gonna stop asking," she tells you, and you can't help but laugh.

"And I'm not going to stop avoiding the question."

"Y/n!"

You enter the elevator, and press the button to the 8th floor, watching her enter. You give a polite smile, and she sighs, giving up.

"Fine," she finishes with a pout.

The elevator goes up, and the two of you stand in comfortable silence. You don't know if it's because of the woman's earlier embarrassment, but something about tonight definitely has you feeling a little bold and ready to tease.

"Hey," you pipe up, and she looks over at you. "You guys were pretty loud."

"Shut up," she grumbles, and you can't help but smirk, watching her glare at the floor.

"My friends almost called the police. It sounded like you were committing murder."

"What?" she exclaims, and then groans. "Oh my god, don't."

"And I almost let them. I was like, woah. I knew this woman couldn't be entirely perfect and had to be keeping some sort of deep, dark, secret. But a serial killer? I would've never thought. Turns out you just had a serial moaner in there, I guess."

"Please stop."

"I mean, what were you doing to that poor girl. I—"

"At this point, it just seems like you're trying to get details out of me," she interjects.

"W-what?" you squeak, and she smiles, turning to look at you, suddenly cool and collected.

She shrugs. "You keep bringing it up."

You scoff. How dare she accuse you of such a thing! All of the thirst comments under her posts must have gotten to her head.

"You're ridiculous," you retort.

"Am I wrong, though?" she counters, and you stare at her with wide eyes.

"No," you reply quickly, and then you mentally facepalm, realizing what you said. "I mean yes. You're wrong."

"Right," she chuckles, and the elevator dings, the doors opening. "I have a question for you."

"Yeah, sure, what is it?" you ask, stepping out into the hallway.

She bites her lip, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Have you had the chance to use your Satisfyer Pro yet?"

Your jaw drops, aghast. "Wh-what? What the fu—"

"Goodnight, y/n," she grins, snickering as she runs inside her apartment like a little goblin, leaving you to watch her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.

You can't help but let out a huff of laughter as you enter your own apartment.

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You're sitting in bed with a slice of cake on your lap, blanket tossed to the side due to the hot weather, binge-watching a new series. You contemplate checking your email for a message from that landlord, but decide against it, not wanting to put a damper on your decent mood. Instead, you tune in to another episode of a k-drama, in which the protagonist dies for a second time. Supposedly, it's for real this time.

You're about to finish the slice when there's a knock at the door. You frown, pausing the episode. You stand up, place the plate on the dresser, then walk towards the front door, peering through the peephole. Your heart begins to beat faster when you see a certain woman standing outside your apartment.

"What's up?" you greet, swinging the door open.

"Hey," she says, a soft smile on her face. She's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white t-shirt, hair in a bun. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed. You can't help but note how good she looks, despite looking rumpled.

"Hi," you respond, returning the smile. "What's going on?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe.

"So, uh, my air conditioning broke," she begins. "And I was wondering if I could hang out in your apartment for a bit? The maintenance people said they aren't going to be able to get here until tomorrow. Apparently they don't work on Sundays."

You've suddenly become aware of the fact that Bada has never been inside your apartment. The idea of her being inside the same room as you, sitting on your furniture, breathing in the scent of your home, sends a wave of heat down your spine. Maybe it was best to reject her offer and suggest another solution.

"Come on in!" you say, and open the door.

"Thank you," she breathes out, walking in, and your eyes rake over her figure as she passes by you.

She looks around, taking in the sight of your apartment. You notice her eyes linger on some of your old pictures from your hometown.

"Your apartment is really nice," she tells you, and you feel a rush of pride.

"Thank you! Feel free to take a seat wherever," you reply, gesturing towards the couch, and she sits, throwing her head back as she lets out a sigh of relief.

"You're a lifesaver," she declares, and you plop down next to her.

"What happened?" you ask, and she shakes her head.

”I wish I knew. I went to turn on my AC and it just, didn’t come on. Completely out of the blue.”

"That sucks," you respond, and she nods, a grim expression on her face.

"So," she begins, turning her head towards you. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answer, and then remember the slice of cake on the dresser. You point to it. "Would you like some?"

"Yes, please," she says, nodding fervently. "Water would be great, too, if you don't mind."

Grateful to put some distance between the two of you, you practically bounce out of your seat. "Coming right up!"

You return with two glasses of water and your cake. She thanks you, and you hand her a fork, taking one for yourself.

"This is really good, y/n. Did you make this too?" she praises, and you nod.

"I did. Thanks," you reply, taking a bite.

"You really need to give me the recipe for these things. Or start selling them! I'd buy them all," she compliments, and you blush, waving her off.

You stare at the ground for a moment, before laughing bitterly. "That was supposed to be the goal, I guess.”

She furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

You inhale slowly, prepping yourself. You hated this. But maybe you needed this. "I used to have my own bakery. In my hometown That's actually where I moved from. But then my landlord jacked the rent up and I couldn't afford it, and I was forced to close," you explain.

"Oh." She frowns. "That's awful. What a jerk."

"Tell me about it," you mumble, carelessly dropping your fork on the table.

"Are you looking for another place here?" she asks, and you nod.

"Yeah. There's a lot of great spots in Seoul, but there's one building in particular that I've had my eye on. It's not far from the Han River, and the rent is relatively cheap, and it's got everything I could possibly need. I'm just waiting to hear back from the that landlord. We were negotiating and things were going pretty well. But now its been months. I haven't heard from him since I moved here."

You blink back tears, and clear your throat, picking up the fork again. Whenever you think of everything that's happened to you recently, you cannot help but feel like an utter failure. You worked hard, finally achieved success, only for things to all fall apart. It seemed as if all of your efforts were for nothing.

"Hey," she whispers, and her voice is soft, calming. "It's gonna be okay."

She gently squeezes your arm, and her touch is warm. You look at her, and the tenderness in her eyes is enough to make you want to cry more.

"I know. It's just hard, sometimes," you confess, and her hand remains on your arm.

"I get that, but I can promise you that what you're going through is temporary. I can't tell you how many times I thought I was done for good when I first started out, but now, I've come this far. If you keep your head up, and just keep working hard, you'll make it. You’ve done it before.”

Her words resonate with you, and her unwavering support fills you with hope. "Thanks, Bada," you respond, smiling.

"Of course," she responds, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm here for you."

"I'm here for you too," you whisper.

A moment of silence passes, and your eyes travel to her hand. Her skin is smooth, and her fingers are long and slender. You wonder what they'd feel like intertwined with yours.

"Um, I’ve been meaning to ask," she says, interrupting your thoughts, and your eyes meet hers again. "Any new dramas you wanted to tell me about? Or, what about the one with that married couple you talked about?”

You almost laugh at her obvious attempt to distract you from your depressing thoughts.

"Pretty good," you reply, and she gives you a pointed look.

"And by pretty good, you mean..."

"Amazing, wonderful, mind-blowing, spectacular," you continue, and she nods, satisfied. "I was actually watching it before you knocked on the door."

"Ooh, really?" she responds, eyes widening.

"Yeah. Would you like to watch it together?" you suggest, and she grins.

"Yes, please."

"Okay," you giggle, and grab the remote, pressing play.

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Halfway through the episode, you decide to move to your bedroom (because the AC works better in there, of course!). Somehow, while lying on the bed, your legs become intertwined. She's sprawled out, and her head is resting in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your face.

You can feel her steady breathing, and the heat radiating off her body, and all of your senses are filled with her. You're so focused on her that you can't even focus on the episode.

"Y/n?" she murmurs, and her voice is low, quiet.

"Yeah?" you reply, voice equally as soft.

"Would it be weird if I said that I'm glad my air conditioner broke?"

You snort, and her body shakes with silent laughter. "Not at all."

You pause the show, and sit up. She does the same, and her eyes are shining.

"Do you want anything to eat? I've got chips, and some ice cream," you offer, and she bites her lip.

"Not really. Thanks, though," she responds, and your eyes travel to her lips. They're plump and pink, and you're tempted to reach out and kiss her.

"Okay, no problem," you say, and her gaze is intense, burning.

"Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it."

"Of course," you murmur, and then clear your throat. "Anytime."

"Really?"

"Yeah! You can even stay the night, if you want. I don't mind," you respond, and her eyebrows raise, lips curling upwards.

"Okay," she answers, and leans forward, cupping your face in her hands.

The action surprises you, and you let out a gasp. She pauses, eyes searching yours, and you nod, giving her permission.

She leans forward, and you close your eyes, waiting for her to press her lips against yours. Instead, you feel a pair of lips softly kissing your forehead, and your cheeks, and your jaw, and your nose, and then they finally, finally press against yours.

The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when she pulls away, her eyes are filled with affection.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, and you chuckle.

"Me too," you whisper, and her smile grows wider.

She moves closer to you, and you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body is soft, and her skin is smooth, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.

"I really like you, y/n," she whispers, and you tighten your hold on her.

"I really like you too, Bada," you respond, and she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You're in heaven.

"Thank god. I was afraid I was making a fool out of myself," she confesses, and you giggle.

"What? Oh my god. Not at all," you assure her, and she pulls away, a smirk on her face.

"So, I was right about you wanting details?"

"Oh fuck you," you mutter, pulling her back into a significantly more aggressive kiss. A surprised noise escapes her lips, but she eventually melts into it, moving against you with equal fervor. Her hands run up and down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and you're so caught up in the sensation that you don't even realize when she starts straddling you until she presses her body against yours in a way that has you gasping.

Your hands travel underneath her shirt, feeling the smoothness of her warm skin, the lines of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her waist. She groans into the kiss before slipping her tongue into your mouth, causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach.

When you pull away, she's panting, and her lips are swollen. Her hair is slightly mussed, and her pupils are dilated, her eyes filled with desire. Without words, you both begin removing each other's clothes, tossing them to the side. She's left in only a black bra and boxers, and you have to remind yourself to move.

She chuckles, and you stare at her chest. You can see the outline of her nipples, and you reach out, brushing a thumb against them, and she bites her lip, closing her eyes. You can feel her heart beating rapidly, and you trace circles around her nipples, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"Please," she begs, and you smile, pulling her into another kiss.

Your hands move lower, caressing the skin of her thighs, and then you're cupping her center, and she gasps, pulling away.

"Y/n," she pants, and the sound of her moaning your name sends another rush of heat down your spine.

"Bada," you breathe out, and press kisses against her jawline, and down her neck, and collarbone, and chest. Your hand is still between her thighs, and she bucks her hips, trying to find friction.

"Y/n, please," she repeats, and the desperation in her voice is so fucking hot.

You slip a finger inside her, and you feel her walls immediately clench, followed by a whimper you're not sure belongs to you or her. You curl your finger inside her, and her head falls back into the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips, grinding against your palm.

"More," she practically demands, and you add another finger.

She's soaking wet, and the lewd sounds coming from your fingers sliding in and out of her has you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief.

You use your thumb to rub circles on her clit, and her movements become more erratic, her moans becoming louder.

"I'm gonna-ugh," she pants, and her nails dig into your skin as she orgasms.

You can feel her walls clenching and unclenching, and her body trembles, her eyes squeezed shut. She breathes heavily, and the sight of her is enough to drive you wild.

You continue stroking her until she opens her eyes, and you can't help but grin.

"Holy shit," she manages, and you remove your fingers, and she lets out a moan.

"Good?"

"Yes," she replies, and leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"Now," she begins, breaking away. "Let me take care of you."

You can only nod as she reaches for your breasts, fondling them, and her eyes never leave yours. She's smirking, and the intensity in her gaze is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation, and you nearly jump when you feel her body shift, her lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

She moves down, taking a nipple into her mouth, and you groan, arching your back. Her lips travel to your stomach, and then your thighs, and then you're lifting your hips, and she's sliding your underwear off.

"Spread your legs, y/n," she requests, and her voice is low, seductive.

You obey immediately, and then her tongue is inside you, and her fingers are on your clit, and your entire body is on fire. She sucks on your clit, and then makes headway further down, sliding her tongue inside you. You can't stop the moans that escape from your mouth, and you're certain the whole complex can hear, but you don't care.

Suddenly, she stops, and looks up at you. Your eyes snap open, annoyed by the interruption until you observe the way he's smiling, her chin slick with your wetness.s

"I wanna try something," she begins, and she sits up, scanning the room. "Where's that thing you got the other day?"

You bite back a moan. "Nightstand drawer."

She opens it, and takes out a small, pink object. Your face flushes as she turns it on, the vibrations audible in the otherwise quiet room.

"Is this okay?" she asks, and you nod, eager.

"Yes," you answer, and her mouth returns to your center.

She teases your entrance with the object, and the combination of her tongue and the vibrator has you squirming, your hands finding their way to her head, holding her in place.

"Oh god," you whimper, and the pleasure is indescribable.

Her tongue picks up speed, and then the vibrator enters you, and you nearly scream.

She pushes the toy in and out, and as it vibrates against your clit, and begin to feel like you can't take anymore. Your back arches, and a wave of euphoria washes over you as your orgasm hits, and the only thing you can see is the light from the lamp and the white of the ceiling.

When you regain control of your senses, you can feel her body lying on top of yours, her head on your chest. You lay in silence, trying to catch your breath, and it isn't until you hear her voice that you speak.

"How are you doing?"

"Sleepy," you mumble, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips.

"Then let's go to sleep."

You can only nod as your eyes slowly close and your mind becomes hazy. Before you drift off completely, you think to yourself that this might've been the best night you've had since moving here.

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Two weeks later, you and Bada are going up the elevator to your respective apartments after a walk from your job. You'd just spent the past hour gossiping in between taking customer's orders. Apparently, Mijoo and Naeun are going out. Figures. You hoped it worked out for them, but nobody was beating the blissful few weeks you've.

The two of you are holding hands, and your free one is holding a box containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies, made especially for Bada.

"I'm thinking of moving out," she suddenly states, and the statement catches you off guard.

"What? Why?" you ask, and she shrugs.

"It's about time. I can afford a better place, and I'm ready to move on from the apartment life. I need a house."

"I can understand that," you reply, nodding.

"You should move in with me," she continues, and the statement makes you laugh.

"What? Are you crazy? We just got together."

"Who cares? I want to live with you. Don't you want to live with me?" she responds, pouting, and she gives you puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, but...," you pause, and you can tell from the expression on her face that she's serious.

"But what? What's the problem?"

"Nothing. Let's do it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," you confirm, and she beams, leaning in to kiss you.

You can't believe what you just agreed to. But, in a way, you're relieved. Maybe this will finally bring a sense of finality to everything that's happened.

"Damn, guess I'm gonna have to tell Jennifer about us. She's coming out here soon," you mutter, opening your email app. You go to type in your friend's email, but your eyes land on an unread email in your inbox, sent two weeks ago. It's from an unknown sender, and the subject is 'Regarding Your Application.'

Your eyes widen, and Bada nosily peers over your shoulder, reading the words.

"What's that?" she asks, and you gulp.

"I don't know."

"Open it!" she exclaims, and you do.

Y/N,

This is Kim Sung Soo, the owner of the property you inquired about. I was out of town for business and unable to contact you regarding your application. I've looked through the papers, and everything seems to be in order. I'd like to meet up with you so we can further discuss the terms of the lease before we finalize anything. When are you available?

"Oh my god," Bada gasps, and she stares at you, wide-eyed.

"What the hell?" you whisper, and Bada squeals.

"Oh, y/n! This is so exciting! Congratulations! I knew it would work out. Now, you can start your bakery, and we can move in together, and oh, my god, I'm so happy!"

"I'm confused," you mutter barely believing your luck, and the elevator dings, indicating that the two of you have arrived.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Come on, let's go have some cookies," she says, tugging on your arm.

You nod, following her down the hall without a hint of resistance. As you watch the woman drag you with a giant smile on her face, you cannot help but giggle. Who knew you'd find home and happiness in such an unlikely place?

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee imagine #bada lee fluff #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #street woman fighter 2 #swf2

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oraclebell17 · 7 months

Note

Arval dressed in a Lady Oscar-esque style with one of those hats with the feather(??) I don't know its name, feel free to ignore the hat

ignoring the hat in favor of doing this with Epimenides instead <3 (we discussed stuff in dms and!!!! omg!!!!! epi!!!!)

#thank you for the ask!!#epimenides #fe epimenides #arvalposting #doodle #ignore the awkward attempt at the other arm

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myfictionaldreams · 5 months

Note

Slides in with a bucky request!

Can you do a possoves bucky? Like someone flirts with her and that leads to an argument that leads to to feelings coming out with marking dirty talk and rough sex? Pretty please

Always Watching // Bucky x Fem!Reader

Requested by: hey bestie, thanks for the request!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, possessive behaviour, obsession, jealousy, threats of violence, enemies to lovers, pining, unwanted attention, flirting, sexual harassment, arguing, rough kissing, biting, marking, scratching, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, light dom/sub, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), size kink

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The word used to describe your relationship with Bucky Barnes was ‘strained’. Strained because you’d prefer it if it were at least adequate, and no one could fault you for the attempts made at becoming his friend and helping him with the transition from the Winter Soldier to a member of the Avengers. In truth, you’d tried more than most to help him, especially as he was still at risk of being compromised and shifting back to the assassin’s mindset. You prided yourself on your compassion and empathy, always providing physical and mental support to Bucky, asking how he was, helping him move into the Avengers tower and adjust to going on missions.

Except, somewhere along the way, it had become evident that from at least Bucky’s perspective, you were a person to keep at arm’s length. Your questions would be ignored, and your attempts to help in medical situations would be pushed away. The only responses you’d receive were belittling comments or fierce glares that would have you backing away from the man and shutting your mouth. Even when you kept to yourself, his eyes always seemed to follow you around the room, eyes burning with what you assumed to be hatred, like he was plotting all the ways to eradicate you.

For some unknown reason, Bucky Barnes seemed to hate you, and you had no idea what you’d done to offend him. The other Avengers and agents you called your friends had all implored that he didn’t hate you, but when you stated the experience you’d received from the long-haired man, there was no response but an awkward close-lipped smile and shrug of the shoulders.

This treatment had been going on for months now, avoidance, glare and comments under his breath, and you were slowly getting to the end of your rope. Even earlier in the day, he somehow managed to get under your skin with only one sentence.

“Are you really going out in that dress?”

At first, you’d been embarrassed and somewhat mortified by his comment, wishing to cover up the beautiful dress that Natasha had helped you to pick that emphasised your body shape and the perfect colour to compliment your skin tone. Soon, the embarrassment changed to anger, finding the comment rude and unnecessary. Who was he to say what it was that you wore? Especially tonight, everyone had returned from a difficult mission and decided it was about time the team let their hair down and went to a nightclub for drinks.

Other than the comment, the rest of your night was amazing. You were feeling a light buzz from the alcohol and danced so much that your calves were beginning to burn from standing in the heels borrowed from Natasha. Even as you became lost in the music and masses of people squeezed into the club, you were still hyper-aware of the man watching you from where he was leaning against the wall.

“Does he even blink?” you shouted, attempting to be over the pounding bass to the red-haired woman you were dancing with.

Natasha tipped her head back and laughed, glancing over her shoulder a second later to assess the man who seemed to be staring at you constantly. Bucky didn’t even have the gall to look away in embarrassment, having been caught staring and that only made Nat’s smile widen as she turned back to you with a twinkle now in her eyes.

“You know why he’s staring”, she says matter of factly, swaying her hips as she talks into your ear.

Your eyes roll so hard that you have a momentary headache. “He does not have a crush on me. Can you please stop saying that? The man clearly hates me! I feel like my skin is burning from his stare, like he wishes me to combust spontaneously.”

After the tight-lipped smiles from your friends, they would often tease that maybe he was being so mean and hateful because he had a crush on you. You’d laughed initially, and some small part of you was hopeful that this was the case, but the more he belittled, embarrassed and ignored you, the more evident that was not the case.

“Maybe he’s just admiring the dress that I know he loves”, Natasha shouts confidently, grabbing your hand and twirling you around in an attempt to show off your outfit.

Despite her ridiculous statement, you laughed, “Well, he has an interesting way of admiring it! I’m going to go and get another drink. Do you need one?”

Natasha shook her head and held up her beer bottle, which was still over half full. Giving her one last smile, you made your way through the sweaty, head bobbing with the music until you finally found a free area at the bar, which was busy enough that you knew it would be a while before being served.

Someone pressed against your arm as a new person also had similar ideas to you, leaning on the bar and trying to get the staff’s attention with a click of his fingers. You took a deep breath to try and refrain from rolling your eyes at the arrogance of the man next to you, who was leaning on his forearm on the bar side.

“What are you having?” he shouted confidently with a grin, and it took you a good minute to realise he was talking to you.

“Oh, no, it’s ok. I’m getting my own drink; I’m sure it won’t take long”, you politely decline, turning your body away from him for a moment, hoping to catch the eye of the bar staff so you didn’t have to stay there any more with the guy next to you.

“Nonsense, pretty girl like you shouldn’t be buying your own drink. Come on, let me buy you a drink. I’m Chad, by the way”, he responds whilst sticking his hand out for you to shake. You stare at the hand before shaking it with a limp wrist, wanting to show that you aren’t enthusiastic about the conversation.

“Nice to meet you, Chad. I appreciate the offer, but I’m really fine buying my drink”. You pull your hand out of his grasp and try to take a step away, but there are so many people at the bar that there’s nowhere to go. Chad only moved closer, ignoring your discomfort as he leaned his face towards yours.

“Don’t be like that, Baby, it’s just a drink. Your dress is beautiful, by the way, it really makes your…eyes pop” As he spoke, he was not looking at your eyes as you crossed your arms to cover your chest. “Are you here alone? Maybe we can grab a drink and go somewhere beautiful; I’d love to get to know you on a more personal level”, Chad asked, lifting his fingers to stroke the apples of your cheeks.

“She’s not alone, and get your fucking hands off of her”, came an aggressive voice from behind as a warm chest brushed against your back.

Bucky pushed against Chad’s shoulder, giving him enough space to stand between the two of you, so now you’re staring at his back as he protectively became a shield for you.

“Hey man, what the fuck’s your problem! Who do you think you are, touching me like that?!” Chad shouted loudly enough that others began to turn and stare at the scene.

You could feel the thickness of the atmosphere, and there was nothing more you wanted to do than de-escalate the situation, not wanting Bucky to get into any further trouble as he was already being watched like a hawk by Shield.

“Bucky, please stop; everyone's staring!” you tried to pull on his arm, but he stayed completely still, ignoring you as he stared daggers at Chad.

The man looked between you and Bucky before settling on you and pointing at Bucky, “Is this guy bothering you? Listen, asshole, she clearly doesn’t want to be with you; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been out here buying her own drink, now would she? Why don’t you get lost so the pretty girl and I can get back to getting to know each other?” Chad smirked cockily.

This only made Bucky tense further, his posture straightening as he took a threatening step forward, and Chad flinched. Bucky’s gloved hands clenched at his side as you quickly did a visual check to see if he had any weapons, but you couldn’t see any in the suit jacket and jeans; you were sure he probably had them hidden up his sleeve.

Bucky took another step forward, nostrils flaring as anger radiated off of him in waves of heat, and genuine fear pooled in your stomach with how the situation escalated as you tried to push him away from Chad.

“If you ever touch her again, I promise you, I will fucking ruin your life. No, you know what, scratch that. If you so much as look at what’s mine again, there’s nowhere on this planet that you can hide; I will find you and end anything you find precious, including your life. Do you understand me?” Bucky asked, his tone surprisingly calm for promising such life-ending threats.

“What's going on here?” another voice joined the conversation as Steve and Tony appeared at your side, pushing the growing crowds back to give everyone space. You would have been thankful for their arrival had you not been staring open-mouthed up at Bucky. Not only was he threatening to kill someone for you, but you didn’t miss the possessiveness in his words and actions, and the biggest question screaming in your mind right now was what he meant by saying ‘what’s his’. Surely he didn’t mean you? Everything was becoming far more complicated than you’d anticipated.

“Is he compromised?” Tony asked in a hushed tone to you as he wrapped a hand around your upper arm, prepared to pull you away from the scene if needed.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to the hand on your arm, the glare moving to Tony’s face as the billionaire changed his stance to one like he was preparing for a fight. Your heart nearly stopped, everything becoming too overwhelming and escalating to a level that no one would be coming down from if it wasn’t stopped soon.

“No! Tony, he’s not compromised; he’s fine. There was just a misunderstanding-”

“A misunderstanding? Is that really what you are calling this situation?” Bucky demands, staring down at you whilst moving out of reach of Steve’s outreached hand.

“Bucky-” you try to reason with him, but you notice that his eyes have gone in the direction Chad seemed to disappear from. He was moving before you could even stop him, following wherever the guy had escaped. Quickly looking up at the confused Tony and Steve, you tried to reassure them whilst beginning to follow after Bucky. “Everything is fine! I’m just going to make sure he’s ok”.

You mostly needed answers than anything, feeling completely and utterly sober now and not wishing to return to the dance floor. As well as making sure that Bucky wasn’t going through with any of his threats.

You were going from being within a stuffy nightclub full of alcohol and dancing people with not enough room to move and music so loud that your voice had to strain to be able to be heard by others. To now, you’re rushing out of the entrance, out into the open air that was considerably colder, added to the fact that the heavens had opened and the rain was pouring enough that it was hard to see more than a few feet in front of you.

Any sane person would have turned right back around and reentered the club just to have some cover, but your adrenaline was pumping, and after a few seconds outside, you were already drenched, so there was no point trying to find the jacket you’d left in the cloakroom.

You follow in the direction Bucky had stormed off, trying to weave through the people running through the rain and past the busy New York traffic. “Bucky!” You called out for him while wrapping your arms around your chest, trying to keep some of the warmth you’d found in the club, but the more you were out in the open, the more the rain wholly soaked your body, drawing the freezing temperatures into your bones.

You stare at his back as he continues to walk with a purpose; you aren’t even sure if he’s following Chad anymore or just needs some air. You try your hardest to keep up, even with the struggle of the slippy wet floor and your ridiculous choice of heels burning your calves enough that you contemplated risking the sanity of the bottom of your feet by taking them off.

“Please, just wait, Bucky!” you shout to the man in front, who, of course, doesn’t slow down. You were at your wit's end, cold and drenched from the rain, confused by Bucky’s reaction in the club, not just from Chad but also the look from Tony grabbing your arm. There was clearly something more going on, and him running away, potentially on the warpath, was only making your anxiety increase to the point of wanting to scream.

Distracted with your rolling emotions, you hadn’t noticed that you were no longer following anyone as the street in front of you only had the occasional couple walking past with umbrellas over their heads.

You’d somehow lost Bucky.

“Shit!” you curse to the sky, letting the rain pour down over your face, unsure of what to do. You could return to the club, but you were now much closer to the tower than you were to the club and at least back at the tower, you could use Jarvis to assist with trying to track and find Bucky.

Before you could follow through with your decision, a gloved hand wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you quickly into an alleyway that had some shelter above your head, protecting you from the rain. Just as your mouth opened to scream and combat training reflexes moved to punch whoever had grabbed you, the movements were halted as you became face-to-face with a very pissed-off Bucky Barnes.

All air rushed from your lungs as you were forcefully pushed up against a wall as Bucky leaned his metal arm beside your head, leaning over you. Even though his blue eyes were burning with more intensity than you’d ever seen before, you still sighed in relief that he hadn’t rushed off somewhere, but now you just had to deal with the confrontation you were hoping for.

“Go back to the party”, he demands in a voice so low that you almost coward from him. Still, instead, you held your ground, pushing off the wall, expecting him to move back in a show of confidence, but he remained hovering close enough that it only meant that there were a few inches between your faces.

In the shadows of the alleyway, he looked threatening, especially with his bulky silhouette, but for some reason, he looked somewhat like a fallen angel. The fierceness in his swirling ocean blue eyes that devoured you completely, the height and strength that was trained through every single inch of muscle throughout his body, even his shoulder-length hair left unbound and dripping from the rain, gave him a mysterious look. It was nearly enough to distract you from the events that had taken place. Nearly.

“What? No! I’m not going back to the party. What even happened back there?”, you demanded, trying to remain as confident as you’d felt when leaving the club and not letting the adrenaline altogether go from your system.

Bucky looks away, towards the end of the alleyway in thought before finally muttering, “It was nothing”.

You scoff, “It wasn’t nothing! You threatened to kill the guy in there, Bucky! And what was all that with Tony? I saw the look you gave him! Oh, and what did you mean by touching what was his?”

To your shock, Bucky smirked, but his gaze was so vibrant when he turned back to look at you that, on instinct, you took the step back again to press against the wall. “I told you not to wear that stupid dress,” he says under his breath, like he is telling you a well-kept secret but is forcing himself to say the words.

You frown, your chest restricting, making it difficult to breathe. “The dress? Why do you hate this dress so much, I can wear whatever the fuck I want, Bucky! Stop trying to change the subject! Everything you do is so confusing. For months, you've acted like me even breathing in the same room as you is an inconvenience and then you’re threatening some asshole guy at the bar and protecting me? What’s that about?”

“Because I knew I’d have to be fighting off dickheads like him all night! That’s why I have an issue with the dress. When men like him take one look at you and assume that they have any right to even talk to you, let alone any of the other fucked up shit he was hoping to get from you”.

His outburst shocked you to the core, leaving you stunned and fumbling to think of any words. “I…I don’t understand where this is all coming from. Wait, aside from Chad, no one is allowed to talk to me? Who do you think you are to decide something like this? Maybe I want a cute guy to buy me a drink!”

“You’re naive if you think guys will only want to buy you a drink and nothing more”.

Your face heats uncontrollably at his words, hating the condescension lacing his words. “Don’t talk to me like that! Maybe that’s just what I want anyway. Someone nice to buy me a drink and treat me with kindness that clearly you won’t give me! So how dare you try to dictate my life by saying what I wear means you’ll have to be my knight in shining armour! You don’t have to do anything for me, these past few months have clearly shown you don’t give a shit about me so why care so much what people do to me?”

“You don’t understand”, he seeths through gritted teeth.

You want to scream in frustration from the lack of answers, letting all the energy form in your arms and hands as you pushed on his chest, needing some space between both of your bodies, but he was built of stone as he didn’t move at all.

“Then explain!” you shout in frustration, the heat and adrenaline returning to your veins. “Because I’m losing my fucking mind right now! Why do you act like you hate me one minute and save me another whilst acting like you have any sort of say as to what I wear and who touches or looks at me?”

“Because he touched what’s mine!” Bucky bellows, his face dropping close to yours as a vein bulges on his temple. “Call it jealousy, call is possessive, I don’t fucking care. Do you know how hard it is to see you in the line of fire at work and then come out to places like this and watch every guy and woman in this place have their eyes all over your body, wishing that they could have you? And then watching that asshole Chad come and talk to you, giving you those compliments and then having the nerve to touch you? He was a dead man walking”.

Your mouth opens and closes, feeling like you are having an out-of-body experience. “But… but you hate me”, you say, sounding as defeated as you felt.

Bucky scoffs again with less anger this time, the tone of his voice calming slightly as he leans closer, crowding you in his warmth. “I don’t have you, sweetheart, but I’m so fucked up in here”, he points to his head, “I can’t risk being near you”.

“Bucky-”

“Just go back to the party. I’ll call you a cab; just don’t follow me.”.

A lump forms in your throat. There’s no way you’re leaving him to go back to the club, and just as you’re about to tell him that, he’s suddenly dipping his head and cheek against yours so that he can whisper into your ear. “Just know that even though I’m not there, I’ll know if someone is looking at you. Your body is for my eyes only, so if anyone approaches, they’re dead”.

The breath hitches in your throat as your fingers clench, and you remember that they’re still resting on Bucky’s chest as you grip his shirt tightly. The warmth against your face retreats as he attempts to move back, and it is out of instinct that you glance towards his lips. You’ve never experienced anyone becoming possessive over you before. It should have had you running in the opposite direction, but your feet remained planted in that same spot, leaning towards the protective force in front of you.

Bucky then surprises you as you watch his frowning lips shift into a knowing smirk, laughing under his breath which causes a pulse of attraction through your cunt. “Oh Doll, you’re going to need to stop looking at me like that; otherwise, you won’t be returning to that party”.

A surge of confidence rocks through your core as your gaze burns into his intricate, beautiful eyes, “What if I don’t want to go back to the party?”.

You try not to jump away from the gloved hand, now cupping your jaw, tilting your face up towards the covering, shading you both from the continuing thrashing rain. The warmth of his breath skips over your exposed throat as he runs his nose along your skin, causing a shiver to rush down your spine. “You don’t mean that?” his tone had deepened and sounded increasingly strained, as if he was somehow holding himself back.

You weren’t entirely sure what was happening and how everything had changed to such a degree. All you were 100% certain about was that there was no way you would be going back to any party without Bucky.

“I mean it more than you could ever know”, you say with a rush of breath, finding it difficult to hold back the restraint to continue looking up entirely at his mercy simply.

Bucky contemplates your words as his nose drifts lower, and your heartbeat thumps hard in your chest. You are sure that you’ve felt the delicate kiss of his lips against the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “I think you like it when I show you who you belong to”, Bucky states with arrogance and sultry need that equally has your knees weakening.

The pure desire pooling in your underwear was becoming impossible to ignore, like a flame had been lit within your body and was slowly devouring your rational thoughts. A weak moan escapes your lips as your eyes drift close.

“Bucky…” you trail off, beginning to tremble, not from the low temperatures or being soaked through from the rain, but because your arousal had hit you so deeply that he consumed all thoughts.

“Yes?” Bucky asks as he laughs throatily at how you were so easy to succumb to his advances.

“Just fucking kiss me already!”

The pleasure and pain that enveloped your body was something that you’d crave and dream about for months to come. Pain because his lips pushing into yours with such force that your body was pushed back against the brick wall, but the overwhelming pleasure from finally feeling his mouth on yours, the hand gripping your jaw moving to the back of your head to cradle it with gentleness that you were surprised he as even capable of. The urgency didn’t end there, even as you finally received what you both had truly wanted for all of this time. You needed more of him, all of him, every single inch of his body you wanted to feel without the barrier of his clothes.

Bucky’s nose pushed into your cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, both of your mouths opening to allow your tongues to dance and caress one another. You moaned, tasting the mint on his tongue and something that was so uniquely him your mind momentarily lost any coherent thought.

His massive body was pressed against yours so that you were consumed by him completely. Which also meant that you could feel the hardness of his arousal rutting into your stomach as he gently rolled his hips to try and relieve some pent-up frustration.

You were ready to give him everything, right there, in a random alleyway in rainy New York, where anyone could stumble upon the two of you. Thankfully, Bucky still could hold onto some restraint as he put some distance between you.

“As much as I’d love to fuck you in front of everyone, I have the sneaky suspicion that Fury would not be pleased if a member of the Avengers were caught having a quickie out in public”.

In any other situation, you probably would have laughed at the absurdity and realisation as to just how far gone you’d become to actually be ready to lift your dress and let him fuck you. However, you were so caught up in the fact that this was happening and hearing the beautiful man in front of you say that he wanted to fuck you in a public setting only added to the deep desire from his possessive tendency to increase.

Bucky pressed a chastising kiss to your temple as he began to shrug his jacket from his shoulders to then wrap it around yours, and you could have moaned at the warmth and mouthwatering scent of his cologne surrounding you. The man you thought hated you didn’t give you any time to lose your senses as he grabbed your hand and tugged you out of the alleyway and back into the startling freezing rain.

As the Avengers tower was only a couple blocks away, it was easier for the two of you to run in the rain, with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, using his big build to shield you somehow from the wetness, but you were already soaked.

Finally, once in the safety of the private elevator that was only used for residents of the tower, you both were once more consumed with each other. His jacket was pushed to the floor so he could run his gloved hands over your shoulders and back to cradle your face.

Your back was against the elevator wall as he crowded around you, trying to taste every possible area of your mouth. Your leg lifted, hooking around his hips and causing your dress to hitch further up your thigh until it rested around your waist, pulling him closer.

In this position, he was able to thrust his tented jeans against your panties, the rough material catching your clit and causing an obscene moan to echo around the small space. His lips left yours but only so that he could kiss down the side of your neck, causing more mewls and pathetic squeaks to leave your parted mouth.

“I want the whole world to know you’re mine”, he declares as his teeth scrap against the area where your shoulder and neck meet. The same part of you that was throbbing for his possessive tendencies needed him to do whatever he was alluding to. To persuade him to continue, you ran your fingers up his firm chest, scratching up his throat and to the nape of his neck so that you were able to grab a handful of his hair and tug him even closer.

However, arriving at the Avengers’ living quarters interrupted the two of you. Without missing a beat, Bucky's hands lowered to your thighs, picking you up so that your legs were now wrapped around his waist as he supported your weight with his hands on your arse.

Your fingers remained in his hair, pulling his face back to your neck as he began to suck on different areas, marking your skin with darkening, wet patches. The tiny reasoning voice at the back of your mind was warning you that you’d regret those marks tomorrow, but with the want and need to have his lips and teeth all over your body, you couldn’t care less if he was marking you.

Everything about his touch was seering in heat, even though those leather gloves still covered his hands. It was as if you could feel the temperature of his burning skin through the material, and it only made you more desperate to claw at his clothes. Equally, Bucky needed to feel more of your soft skin and learn every inch of your body.

You were only half aware that you’d entered his bedroom because the low lighting had naturally turned on by the building's sensors. It was minimalistic, and for a second, your focus zoned into the sheets and pillow led out on the floor and not on the bed, which was just a bare mattress that he all but dropped you into the centre of.

His lips were on yours again, and you were thoroughly distracted from the makeshift bed on the floor. The sharp sting of his teeth grazing your bottom lift caused you to mewl and pull on his hair, exposing his thick neck that gave you the opening to begin your exploration, licking and teasing until he was shivering and sitting back on his knees.

You admired him momentarily as he seemed to do the same for you. His handsome face was flushed with arousal, the pupils in his eyes so vast that it was almost as if the clear blue didn’t exist anymore. His chest was heaving with steading breaths as he began to pull on each of the fingers of his gloves.

“How expensive is the dress?” he asked, eyeing the cleavage that had been his downfall all night.

“It’s Natasha’s”, you answered breathlessly.

“I’ll buy her a new one”, Bucky mumbles, gripping the edges of the dress and tearing the material into two. You gave a startled scream as you were suddenly left in your underwear, but the shock at being exposed was swiftly distracted by him ripping his shirt directly down the centre so all the buttons popped off, and the material shrugged off his broad shoulders.

Even though this wasn’t the first time you’d seen him without a shirt on, your breath caught in your breath at his beautifully sculptured chest and abs, mouth already watering with the need to lick every inch of him.

“Be a good girl for me, Doll and spread your legs”, he demands with surprising gentleness, still sitting back on his knees and stroking a soft caress against your outer thighs.

A pathetic whimper bursts from your chest at the praise, pussy clenching with need that you didn’t waste a second before opening your legs. Even though you still had your panties on, Bucky's gaze became hungry, as if he was a man on the brink of starving to death as he licked his lip and began to lower his body.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to do this”, he admits, gripping the edge of your underwear and beginning to drag the material down your legs.

You smile to yourself, straightening yourself in the centre of the bed and getting comfortable as your legs naturally lay across his shoulders as he led stomach first on the bed.

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you”, you tease, but all the smug arrogance is drowned out by the pornographic scream from feeling his tongue taking a long, exaggerated lick from your perineum to your clit. You weren’t sure who was louder between the two of you with the moans as Bucky finally was able to taste the girl he’d been wanting for months and you for having someone actually wanting to give you some form of pleasure.

Every time you made a noise of pure joy or increased in volume, Bucky repeated the action, learning what you loved. Your thighs were nearly suffocating him with how hard they were squeezing around his face, and you knew that he would happily die right there between your legs if that’s what you truly wanted. Then there was the hair you were clenching, probably having ripped out two handfuls as you pulled on his long hair, hoping to have him as close as possible between your legs.

“Fuck Bucky! Who taught you how to do that- AH! I’m so close!” your back was arched, eyes clenched tightly closed as the pleasure was tightening within your core. His tongue lapped with quick flicks, firming the tip to add more pleasure as he pushed it into your dripping pussy. His moans added extra stimulation as you happily came all over his face, trembling and twitching cunt around his lips and tongue.

Just as Bucky was about to add two fingers into your still pulsing hole, you shouldn’t take the wait anymore and begged, “Please just fuck me already, Barnes!”

The Avengers grinned down at you as he began to crawl up your body, nipping each of your breasts with his teeth through your bra as he moved. Your cheeks warmed, seeing the shine over his stubble from your juices that he’d been happily drinking. Your thoughts didn’t remain on this fact for long though as he was kissing you feverishly once more, meaning you could now taste yourself on his lips.

With his mouth thoroughly distracting, you’d not noticed that he’d been unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans and boxers down his toned thighs. Without waiting until they were entirely removed from his body, he swiped his cock between your folds, coating his length in your liquids.

Your mouth gaped open as the tip of his cock nudged into your entrance, stretching it to a level that you’d not been used to. “Shh, it’s ok, Doll, you can take me”, he promised, with one hand holding your hip steadily and the other against your cheek so he could hold your face still.

He was so deep, impossibly deep. You could feel him everywhere, widening your cunt until you were fluttering around his cock, and he hadn’t even begun fucking you properly yet.

“Nearly there, try and relax for me”, Bucky praises into your ear as your eyes widen, realising that it wasn’t even the entire length of him inside of you yet. Only as he was pushing into your cervix did your head fall back, and you sighed out. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well. Put your arms around my back; you’re going to need to hold onto something”, he boasts as you try and take a deep breath, your fingers reaching around his back, nails digging into the skin to give yourself something to hold onto.

Spreading his knees further apart on the bed, Bucky readjusts his position to gain more momentum. The man fucked good. More than good. You were pretty much pleading incoherently to whatever gods were above or below. There wasn’t anything you were begging for, just whatever it was that Bucky seemed to be doing, that it never stopped.

Each stroke caressed that sweet spot within, and with the way his hips rolled, he was able to nudge your clit with his body. Added to the mouth on your neck, biting and licking the sore spots to ease the ache, his hands pinning you down to the bed only added to the raw possessiveness dictating Bucky’s movements.

Harder and faster, his hips moved. The thick cock pounding into your cunt until you were seeing stars and cumming again, squeezing him so hard he had to still his hips to stop his own orgasm from spiralling.

But then, he's pulling out and turning you onto your front, spreading your legs once more and demanding, “Arch your back for me, Sweetheart”. Doing as he instructed, your still-covered breasts pressed into the mattress as your hips angled up. With one hand holding onto your shoulder and the other on your hip, he began to fuck you with just as much enthusiasm.

In this position, he somehow felt even more deeper, and all you could do was cry out and moan with how good he felt.

“Tell me you’re mine, I need to hear you say it”, Bucky grunts as you came for the third time, becoming overstimulated and disorientated with how good you felt.

Your cunt was still squeezing with the effects of the orgasm as you repeatedly told him, “I’m yours, only yours, Bucky”.

Bucky’s head tilted back so that he could release an almighty grunt, the hands on your body tightening enough that the skin became tender, but you didn’t care at all, not with how good you were feeling. You could feel his cock throbbing and the wetness that followed, dripping from your hole and onto the mattress beneath.

It was a long few minutes before he eased out and collapsed onto the mattress beside you, the two of you breathing heavily as his metal fingers stroked slowly down your spine and his lips followed.

“You should have told me earlier”, you whisper over your shoulder to him.

“Hmm?” he asks, moving up to your shoulder, where he carefully kissed the skin that was tender from his grip moments before.

“You should have told me how you felt”, you explain, thinking about how much time was wasted.

“Maybe. But then, I wouldn’t have had so much fun threatening everybody for looking at you”, he answers with a grin, kissing your cheek once before climbing off the bed and returning with the sheets from the floor.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes one shot #jealous bucky #bucky barnes x reader #marvel one shot #bucky #mine*

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7ndipity · 2 months

Text

Shy

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You’re desperately craving your boyfriend's attention, but are too shy to ask for it outright. Luckily, Yoongi knows what you want anyway.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, swearing, unprotected sex(don’t do this pls), soft dom-ish Yoongi, brief mentions of insecurities, not proofread

A/N: Thanks @theuselessdaydreamingidiot for requesting this! I had so much writing this one, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

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He had to be doing this on purpose.

Normally, Yoongi could read you like a book, whether that was knowing whether you’d had a particularly rough day or just what food you were craving, all you had to do was look at him and he would know what you wanted.

Which was why his current lack of response to your attempts to gain his attention was so frustrating.

The two of you hadn’t been able to see each other all week due to your work schedules, and to say you were starting to go a little crazy was an understatement. As soon as you got to his place, all you had been able to think about was jumping his bones. Normally, you didn’t consider yourself a particularly horny person, but being without your boyfriend for any extended amount of time definitely tended to make you extra needy.

It didn’t help that your boyfriend in question somehow managed to look so fucking hot all. the. time. Even the simple sweatpants and white tee combo he was wearing was enough to make you clench your thighs together with need in your current state.

You’d tried your best to ignore it through dinner, but once the two of you had cozied up together on the couch to watch an episode of a drama, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of his body, his arm looped loosely around your waist, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and drawing you closer, tucking your face against his neck as the ache in your core grew stronger.

Fuck you wanted him so bad.

Usually, all you needed to do was just give a little hint that you were in the mood to Yoongi and he would take the lead for you, asking in a low voice if you wanted to make each other feel good, an offer that you always readily agreed to.

But tonight, nothing seemed to catch his attention.

You let your fingers dance over his skin, tracing little patterns over his arm, up his bicep to his shoulder and back again, trying to elicit a response from him, but all he’d done was tighten his other arm around your waist ever so slightly.

Deciding to try being a bit more direct, you shifted around in his hold, pressing teasing little kisses along the underside of his jaw, knowing it was one of his weak spots, hoping he would finally catch on to hint at what you wanted.

Yoongi hummed appreciatively, but his attention was still fully locked on the screen in front of you, relaxing further into the couch.

You drew back slowly, frowning in frustration as you studied his side profile.

Maybe he was just really interested in the show, maybe he wasn’t in the mood, you weren’t sure, but you felt too shy and awkward to ask outright.

Giving up, you slipped out from under his arm and stood up.

“Where’re you going?” He asked, finally looking up at you with a small frown.

“I’m tired, I think I’m just gonna go on to bed.” You lied.

“Are you sure?” He asked with a slight pout. “You want me to come with you?”

Yes please! “No, you stay and finish the show.” You pecked his cheek. “G’night, Baby.”

You quickly made your way down the hall to his room, not bothering with a light as you climbed into bed, curling onto your side away from the door, staring at the wall in frustration.

You don’t know why you hadn’t just said yes when he’d offered to come with you, maybe then he would’ve caught on if you’d tried again? Or maybe he was intentionally ignoring you as a way to tease you for your shyness with him.

You don’t know why you always felt so shy to initiate anything sexual with Yoongi, it wasn’t like your relationship was particularly new or anything, but everytime you even thought about saying the same things that Yoongi said to you, they sounded so awkward and unsexy, not at all like when he said them. When he said them, you felt your stomach drop in the best way, your knees turning to jelly as your heart rate picked up. In just a few words, he could completely turn you to putty in his hands, a skill you desperately wished you possessed at times like this. Instead you were laying in bed alone and irritated.

No more than five minutes had passed before you heard the bedroom door behind you open,

Yoongi’s footsteps padding softly across the carpeted room to the bed.

You heard him chuckle softly to himself before the mattress dipped under his weight, quietly sliding under the covers and shifting over till he was pressed against your back, draping an arm over your waist.

“Babe? Are you asleep?” He asked softly.

“ ‘m trying to.” You grumbled, brushing his arm off of you. “I thought you were watching your show?”

“I missed you too much.” He said, nuzzling his face in your hair. “It’s no fun without you.”

You didn’t respond, but he could sense you soured mood

“I’m sorry baby. Was I not giving enough attention earlier?” He wound his arm around your waist again, pulling you close as his lips trailed along your neck and shoulder, mirroring your actions from earlier.

You squirmed slightly against him, not wanting to cave so easily, but his wandering hands and warm breath against your skin flooded your core with arousal, your breath hitching and coming out unsteady.

“Let me make it up to you.” He murmured against your skin, his hand making its way under your shirt, fingers brushing over where your skin disappeared under the material of your sleep shorts.

Fuck, you were so weak for him.

“Please.” You breathed, arching closer to him.

You made a soft noise, something between a whimper and his name as he continued to leave a trail of kisses against the flushed skin of your neck as his fingers slipped under the waistband, creeping lower till they brushed your pubic bone, just shy of where you needed him.

You squirmed in his gentle hold, bordering on desperation now.

“Yoongi,” You pleaded. “Please.” You needed him, and you weren’t sure how much longer your sanity could hold out against his teasing touches.

“I got you, baby,” He assured you softly, retracting his hand. “I’ll take care of you.”

He gently rolled you over, caressing your face before bringing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

You sighed in relief, looping your arms around his neck to keep him close as he shifted to hover over you, settling between your legs that fell open to accommodate him.

His grip on your waist tightened in surprise as your tongue delved into his mouth, swallowing down the sweet, almost inaudible groan that left him as your wet muscle tangled with his own.

God, you were addicted to the taste of him, light and sweet with a faint bitterness of the wine you’d drank at dinner.

His fingers dug into your thighs, dimpling the flesh as he ground his hips against yours, pressing his growing erection against your clothed core, your arousal soaking through the material of your shorts and making them stick to you slightly.

You don’t know when he removed his sweats, all you were aware of was his fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down as you lifted your hips to help him remove them, leaving you both bare from the waist down.

“My sweet baby.” He hummed, leaving another trail of wet kisses down your throat as he brushed two fingers through your slick folds, making you hiss as he teased your throbbing clit.

“Fuck Yoongi, please!” You begged. You had lost all patience, shamelessly bucking against his hand to any sort of relief, and in turn breaking any resistance he held.

As weak as you might have been for Yoongi, he was even more so for you, willing to give you anything you wanted and more. You could ask him for the moon and he would find a way to technically give it to you.

Removing his fingers, he shifted position to align the tip of his cock with your entrance. You were so wet and needy already, he slipped into you easily without any prep, sinking in all the way to the hilt in one go, making your eyes roll back in pleasure at finally being filled.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Angel.” He groaned, watching the way your hungry cunt swallowed him so eagerly. He pulled back, rolling his hips into yours slowly, letting you feel every inch and vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls.

“Fuck Yoongi, faster, please.” You practically mewled, clinging to his shoulders.

It was almost embarrassing, how reactive you were, how fast you fell apart for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, all you wanted was for Yoongi to fuck you properly.

The desperation in your voice sent a shot of electricity straight through Yoongi, making his cock twitch inside you as he immediately picked up the pace, plunging back into you quickly and setting a pace that had your toes curling.

His arms were braced against the mattress on either side of you, caging you in while your own hands clutched feebly at his back, nails scraping against his skin, leaving bright red lines and crescent marks in their wake.

Yoongi buried his face in your neck, groaning out with nearly every thrust, not bothering to try and muffle them as he knew they only spurred you further on as well, making you clench and spasm around him.

“F-fuck, Yoongi! I-I‘m close!” You managed to whine out,

“I know, baby, it’s okay.” Yoongi panted, kissing your neck. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

A few more thrusts of Yoongi’s hips were all that it took to tip you over the edge, a sharp ringing filling your ears as your high crashed over you, flooding your senses and causing your muscles to contract and spasm in bliss.

Yoongi followed almost immediately after you, spilling deep inside you with a broken groan, body going stiff over yours as he shuddered through the aftershocks.

He half collapsed on top of you, rolling to the side to avoid crushing you as you both lay there, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

“Feel better?” He asked breathlessly.

“Yeah,” You replied weakly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He grinned, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “Though, you know, if you wanted sex, you could just ask. You don’t have to keep teasing me till I say something.”

“So you were paying attention earlier!” You exclaimed, sitting up to look at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was waiting to see if you would say something first,” He said, sitting up as well. “But then you went off to sulk instead.”

“I wasn’t sulking.” You pouted.

“Yes you were.” He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you. “What I want to know though is why? Why won’t you ever initiate sex with me directly? You always kinda dance around it till I make the first move.” He looked down at you curiously.

“I don’t know.” You looked down, feeling your face heat up. “I guess I just feel kinda shy.”

Yoongi let out a short burst of laughter.

“Babe, you are one of the least shy people I’ve ever met!” He laughed. “I’ve seen you make friends in the middle of the grocery store after having a full blown debate with someone over the validity of skim milk!”

“That’s different! This is you and me, it’s feels embarrassing!” You buried your face in his chest, earning another chuckle from him. “What am I supposed to do, just jump you as soon as you walk in the door and say 'I need you in me or I’ll die'?”

“I mean, that would be really hot,” He smirked, earning a weak smack from you. “But seriously, you don’t need to feel embarrassed with me. Anytime you’re in the mood, just tell me. Hell, we could even make up a codeword if that makes you feel better.” He offered.

“What, like ‘Pineapple’?” You asked, incredulously.

“Sure, if that’s what you want. As of now, Pineapple means sex.” He announced, making you burst into a fit of laughter of your own.

“You’re insane!” You giggled.

“Only for you.” He said with a grin. “I mean it though, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me about stuff like this.”

You nodded, letting you head rest back against his chest.

“Thank you.” You said. “For not making fun of me.”

“I would never.” He said seriously, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You drifted off to the sound of Yoongi’s heartbeat, completely and utterly content.

You did, however, wake up the next morning to several containers of fresh pineapple in the refridgerator.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I think I’m hillarious.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi drabble #yoongi smut #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi oneshot #bts one shot #bts smut #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts requests #7ndipity

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pinkrelish · 1 year

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.✶

NSFW — slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine but eddie's just tired, reader and eddie are mid-late 20's

chapter: 1/20 [wc: 5.5k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 1: Surprise, Surprise

“Yes.” A simple answer which spawned as many awkward scenarios, as it did great ones. Your name was spray painted on the side of a bridge, you spent nights learning to tango on abandoned rooftops, the amount of tales you accrued of bad dates could fill a self-help book.

Whatever the question was, the answer was “yes.” Life was more exciting that way.

Well, your policy usually lended itself to exciting adventures, anyway.

Currently, you were sat behind a desk with your boss, Mr. Moore, who slouched on his black stool with his cheek propped on his fist, pointing a pencil at a customer’s pink invoice sheet in front of you, explaining who to call in the spiral-bound catalog for the parts to be shipped.

The tall counter top partially obscured the both of you from employees and customers alike, but as you soon realized, the number of employees was slightly above two, and the customers even less; and if any of them paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell from the disorienting mix of exhaust fumes, dirty oil, and grease wafting in from the glass door on the left.

Thus began the first day of your new job at David’s Auto Repair. Boring.

————

Your second and third days were hardly different. Arriving at the butt crack of dawn and beginning the routine that definitely wasn’t in the ad in the newspaper: clean the bathrooms (hey, at least they had two), start the coffee pot after scrubbing off years of neglect caked onto the inside, and organize the paperwork Mr. Moore left for you in his office.

Oh, and most importantly, after locking up your bike outside the front door, you made your way through the echoey workshop and poked your head out the back door to the parking lot–which, by all means, was a gravel alleyway with overgrown trees blocking your view beyond the sleek black car parked next to the dumpster.

“Morning!” you greeted the one employee who arrived early and stayed late. “Eddie, right?”

The man leaning against the gray brick wall didn’t bother acknowledging you. Didn’t lift his head from its dropped back position, nor open his eyes. Definitely didn’t take the cigarette out of his mouth to bestow you the gift of his chipper attitude, nor did he uncross his arms to offer you the bare minimum wave.

And much like the other days, you sat perched behind your desk and beamed up at him as he walked past you to the break room. And as usual, he slid his gaze to you. And like normal, he didn’t say anything.

But he did hold your eye contact for a fraction of a second longer, albeit, he looked a bit frightened when he did, as if he were suspicious of your smile.

You listened to the clunk of his heavy boots fade down the hallway, then return with him holding a mug of coffee.

This time, as he walked by, he remained vigilant, and your grin went ignored by his stupid big brown eyes surrounded by envious lashes.

Lucky you, the reception area was essentially a glass cage. Behind the black pleather seats for customers was the glowing blue sky, and beside you were floor to ceiling windows showcasing the artificially bright garage where the man in grease stained coveralls twisted gaudy rings off his fingers and placed them on a tray with his coffee, before picking up a dirty rag and popping open the hood of the car he worked on past closing last night.

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” you mumbled in a mocking tone, sneering at his red name patch–Eddie. “Jerk.”

————

Friday was different. You locked up your bike, chucked your backpack into your chair behind the desk, and made your way to the back of the garage for the routine, “Good morning.”

For some reason, you decided to reveal your whole self; more than your head stuck out the door, or rising above the countertop customers leaned on when trying to schmooze deals on parts–hell if you knew how to do that, anyway. You didn’t get paid enough to bargain.

You stepped onto the uneven gravel and surveyed the scenery, looking both ways down the alley to the major roads on either side leading to the heart of downtown Hawkins. Absolutely dismally silent. Void of life. Except for the small things you never noticed, like faraway birds, the hum of a distant motor, buzzing bugs before they disappeared for the cooler months. You felt the dew settling on your forearms, and swore you could smell impending rain on the cloudless day.

“Is it always this quiet?” you asked, face pinched in confusion as you took it all in. “I swear I can hear my own thoughts.”

Eddie may not have appreciated your joke, but he did surprise you.

He kept one of his arms crossed over his stomach, and took the cigarette from between his lips to flick the ashes. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked the dilapidated fence across from him.

Feeling cheeky, you schooled the thrill out of your voice from getting a response out of him, and said, “What gave it away?”

A drag on his cigarette was his wordless answer. Fair.

“I’m from New York.” The implied City followed without clarification. “Just moved here last week. My roommate’s from Hawkins, and she had to move back to help take care of her parents. They’re older and her dad has some health problems, and yeah, I couldn’t afford rent on my own, so you know, why not. Why not follow her to a town so small it’s impossible to find on a map.”

All your talking earned you a magnificent thing. Eddie finally opened his eyes, if only to pin you with a mild glare, and a skeptic pinch between his brows.

He said more to himself than you, “You must really like your roommate to come here.” The inflection at the end was both amusement and contempt, no doubt.

“We met in our first year of college and became best friends like that–!” You snapped. “Both theater kids going to school for acting, and we later made a comedy troupe with a few other people. When she asked if I wanted to move with her, I said ‘yes.’” Inclining your upper body towards him, you explained, “It’s sorta my thing. If anyone asks me anything, I say ‘yes.’ Obviously, I can veto shit that’s dangerous or crosses any boundaries, but it’s my policy to try everything. Life makes better stories that way.”

Your unique brand of wisdom furthered his obvious distaste for you.

Eddie inhaled his vice until the orange glow burned to the filter. Smoke fell from his mouth in a rush as if he were about to speak again, but he didn’t. He merely stared at you. And if he were having a staring contest, he won.

“Well, have a good day, then,” you said, spinning on the toe of your shoe.

You sat in your glass zoo for the day shuffling papers, making calls, and filling out forms. Most definitely not talking to the guy who appeared annoyed at your very existence.

Unfortunately for him, Hawkins was tiny and the pickings were slim.

Maybe it was his eyes, or the way the short layers of his choppy hair cut escaped his low bun to curl themselves in face-framing waves, or the fact he was twenty-years younger than the other two mechanics, but you took a liking to Eddie, much to his dismay. And due to your affinity for his annoyance, you noticed the subtle changes in his appearance sooner than you should.

————

Dark purple circles announced the lack of sleep under Eddie’s eyes before the bags could. Bloodshot and struggling to open past a sliver, he sucked down half his cigarette before the routine minutes of peace he carved into his strict schedule were interrupted by the newest knot in his muscles.

“Good morning!” you said.

“Morning,” he returned without thinking about it. Rookie mistake.

You stood closer this time, inching down the brick wall, approaching him as if he would startle like a wild animal to get a better look at the years wearing heavy on the fine lines etched into his face. Perhaps no longer ‘fine.’

“You good?”

He didn’t have the energy to put up his usual front. With his chin dipped to his chest, he kept his eyes closed, nearly drifting to sleep as he muttered, “Long night.”

“Ah.”

Your clumsy shuffling alerted him to your movement, and he reluctantly observed you standing a few feet in front of him, rocking on your heels. He filled his chest with an incredulous sigh before you even spoke.

“You seem like you could use some cheering up,” you beamed. “I could juggle for you! Should I do three or four?” Eddie’s jaw went slack, and the cigarette stuck to the wetness inside his chapped lips. You bent down to gather large rocks into your palms, opting for four when he didn’t answer.

You stood up and stepped back. Made a big show of tracing invisible arcs above your head with your gaze, readying your hands. Sucking in a breath. Building suspense while his expression slowly crept into one of tempered curiosity.

Tensing, you tossed all four rocks into the air, and made a genuine effort to catch them before they fell unceremoniously around you, bouncing off the gravel in your scramble.

Clasping your hands behind your back in feigned shyness, you announced, “I don’t know how to juggle.”

For a moment you thought he was going to continue to regard you as if you were a bug in his coffee.. Then his veneer cracked.

He snorted. The cute way, when someone’s trying to suppress it. A subtle shake in their shoulders, keeping their head down, and their smile hidden behind the heel of the palm.

Eddie hugged his arm tighter over his chest, and chastised himself, “Why’d I let that get me.”

And truly, when he flicked his gaze to you with the lopsided remnant of his grin, you were imprinted with the heat of his wonderment, and your body remembered that feeling. Sensing it later when you sat at your desk, tapping your pencil, rattling off a series of numbers and letters for engine parts, and you snuck a coy look over the phone at the exact moment Eddie turned around to ask Carl for a wrench instead of getting it himself from the tool box near the window.

And he felt your stare during lunch when you promised an irate customer their car would be ready by the end of business hours, and hung up the phone with the type of heavy-handedness one used when implying a ‘fuck you’ without stating it.

You pushed yourself from the desk and went to the fridge in front of the circular table in the break room, eyeing Eddie’s odd choice as you walked by. A bologna sandwich–fairly normal–but also a stained orange tupperware container with an array of dried out microwaved leftovers. A corner of spaghetti, pale instant mashed potatoes with three peas stuck on top, unidentifiable sludge that may have been beef stew at one point, and a handful of Kraft mac n cheese.

Pitiful amounts of food that most people would’ve thrown out.

Not that you should judge. Your lunch was the blandest rice-based meal your roommate’s mom made the night before. The woman had never heard of salt, much less other spices, but she was letting you live in their attic for free until you and Bobbie found a place to live.

Breaking your chain of thoughts, you smiled at Eddie on your way out.

He didn’t look up from his paperwork.

Wholly ignored.

————

Over the rest of the month, you learned there wasn’t a definitive pattern to which days of the week were hardest for Eddie, but it was clear when he was enduring the worst.

As the evenings grew cooler, you left the lobby door open, and in doing so, were wise to the bite in his words, the edge to his voice. The quick apologies to Carl when he let his frustration show. The fluidity of ‘fucks’ flying past his mouth, the way he wrung his nape while staring into the distance, and the lurking stress of bottled emotions causing his teeth to grind.

He approached you with concern spurned from the windows being painted black with night.

“You don’t have to stay behind, you know that, right?” Eddie got your attention in the doorway. You blinked at him, still seeing the words of the book you were reading swim past your vision. “I have a set of keys. I can lock up when I’m done.”

It was the most he’d said to you in two weeks. Three entire sentences composed of more words than he’d uttered if you added them all up since your juggling stunt.

“I don’t mind.”

A meager response which resulted in a standoff.

Eddie wasted no time bunching his shoulders at your defiance. He left streaky fingerprints on the door handle as he reached for his neck, and tucked his fingers under his collar to run his thumb along his chain necklace in a self-soothing gesture. A layer of grime coated his skin. His disheveled hair stuck to his sweaty, dirty neck. The front of his coveralls were blackened with grease, as was the white tank top he wore underneath, peeking above the unfastened top snap.

On the other hand, you overturned your palms and glanced around the barren room. “Is it really that much of a bother that I’m sitting in here being quiet?” you drawled.

“Yes.” Automatic irritation.

“It’s not like I have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t have a comedy routine to rehearse with your roommate?” he intoned in complete monotony.

“Ha-ha,” you replied, just as emotionless. You thought about correcting him in regards to you and Bobbie no longer doing stand up, but decided to grab your backpack and leave without putting up a fight. His concern about you staying late may not be genuine, but it was evident he wanted–or needed–you gone. You didn’t want to push his boundaries when he showed this level of discomfort, especially when the burden of fatigue wore beyond acceptable exhaustion, and he was ready to snap, no matter how hard he tried to quell it.

You surrendered, “Bye, Eddie.”

No reply.

In total darkness, you unchained your bike and hopped on, pedaling past the mailbox when you heard the thunderous slams of the service doors being lowered shut.

And you made it to the edge of the trees before coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the empty street, cracking your neck at the speed of which you whipped around to gawk.

Your heartbeat skipped, then timed itself with the extreme drum beat and opening wail of a guitar accompanied by high-pitched screamed lyrics.

The music may have been muffled, and the inside fluorescent lights struggled to penetrate the dense fog from the upper warehouse windows, but it was as if Eddie was subjecting the desolate parking lot to his own personal Judas Priest concert, hearing be damned.

You didn’t even know the dusty radio in the shop worked. But whatever helped him blow off steam, you supposed.

————

Today was a good day.

Eddie liked Fridays. Most people working weekdays did, but when he came inside early from his morning cigarette, and you hadn’t finished sweeping the shop, he made a point to idle around the orange car at the center, seeking your attention and offering an apology. Not a spoken apology, mind you. But it was rare he initiated eye contact, and when he did it with the purpose of showing deference in his softened features, you understood.

You forgave him with a gentle lift at the corner of your lips for an incident yesterday afternoon, wherein he grunted at you to leave him alone when you were telling him about one of the plays you and Bobbie acted in. Sometimes you required your own reminder of when you were being annoying, and gave him an apologetic smile for bothering him. He nodded. All was right with the world. All was forgiven and now he could get to work.

He wiped his hands down the sides of his coveralls, and leaned his upper half through the open car window to reach the latch for the hood.

The perfect opportunity to mess with him presented itself in all its glory. But first, you couldn’t resist taking a long.. long look at his backside, head tilted, mouth more than a little hung open.

“Huh?” He nearly banged his head on the roof, rounding on you with the sharpest glare in the Midwest.

Under the guise of perfect innocence, you kept brushing the broom over his work boots and toward the dust pan. “Sorry, sir, just doin’ my job. Gotta clean up the filth.”

“An actress and a comedian, huh?” he posed, allowing his smirk to foster as he gripped the edge of the door. “Gonna tell me you were a clown, next?”

“Actually..” You were interrupted by Carl coming in, followed by the near-retired Kevin who worked two days a week.

You greeted them loud and proud, overdoing it in the joy department at the ripe morning hour. Asking about Carl’s wife, and Kevin’s dog; really laying it on thick for the purpose of sending a message to the looming ghoul behind you: I’m annoying you on purpose now.

Still, as you entered the lobby, you caught sight of the sneaky grin on his face before he turned his back to you. A tight-lipped thing he was clearly trying to rid himself of while pulling his hair back into a low bun, and taking the time to tie up a bandana to keep everything out of his face, thus losing his security blanket from the world perceiving he wasn’t in a permanent bad mood.

And of course, Eddie kept up his act through lunch. Stomping through the lobby in that way people did when they were so very obviously trying to appear aloof, and coming across as anything but. Eyes staring straight ahead, but too wide and too aware to not be soliciting a reaction from their periphery. Chest out, muscles flexed. Posture the very opposite of casual, causing them to walk in a stilted manner like a robot.

And his charade continued when he came back from the break room, rounding the corner with softer steps. Slower. Hanging onto the precious milliseconds where your back was to him, and he could absorb your image freely without being noticed. Then, he lifted his chin and returned to his project, pretending you weren’t there.

Yep, so painfully obvious when he forgot reflections existed and you were surrounded by glass.

~~~

Fridays were the days he anticipated most. Work was grueling, and he had many things to finish before the break for the weekend, but he didn’t mind staying late. He preferred it.

Fridays meant he could rely on someone else handling the stressors at home, and he was free to earn his late hours at the garage, indulging in his loud music, and unwinding the constant state of tension lurking beneath the surface. It was the only way he knew how to cope. To stay sane.

Yeah, he loved Fridays. Until a surprise came running at him in her tiny pink shoes.

Eddie screwed his eyes shut and exhaled a long, hard breath through his nose.

“Sorry,” came Wayne’s earnest apology as his nephew wilted; shoulders sagging, head hung. Tapping the wrench he was holding on his thigh. Trying his best to keep it together. “Don’t mean to drop ‘er off on you, but work called me in, so I came here after picking her up.”

Turning away from the engine he was installing, Eddie assumed his authoritative voice, but it came out as a weary sigh. “Adrienne, you know the rules,” he warned lowly, “No running in the shop.” After a beat, he corrected himself. “I mean, no being in the shop at all!”

She giggled as she skipped away from him, sloppy pigtails bouncing with mirth, plastic glittery shoes slapping the concrete floor where a myriad of items she could trip on laid.

“Adrie!” He called out, but she was too busy opposing him to pay attention.

Lucky for her, a certain receptionist caught her by the shoulders before she crashed into a rogue tire.

“Whoa there, little Miss!”

You looked to Eddie for further instruction on what to do with the girl currently laughing up a storm at your feet, but he was frozen. A bit paler, and wringing the back of his neck. Unable to articulate any of the broken consonants on his tongue as he stared at you. You switched your gaze to the older man beside him, but he was equally confused as to why Eddie was having trouble speaking.

Addressing anyone who would like to volunteer an answer, you asked, “And who’s this?”

“This.. This i-is my daughter. She, I, Goddamnit–I’m sorry, can you take her inside? I swear she’ll be quiet. Right, Adrie?”

Seeing the pure desperation settle around his eyes, you assimilated into the role of babysitter, wanting to alleviate his anxiety despite the sudden surge of your own. You held your hand out for her to take, and she did so without a second thought, grasping onto you with her little fingers and standing up, being the one to lead you to your desk.

As the door closed behind you, you overheard the older man clear his throat under the strain of bad news. “The water heater is broken again, and I couldn’t– ..Before I had to leave.”

Their private conversation was sealed behind the glass. You didn’t care to eavesdrop. It was too heartbreaking watching Eddie frantically catch his fingers on his bandana before removing it so he could tangle his curls into his fist, tugging them over his face as he groaned in a fruitless effort to hide himself from the world.

But on the subject of his brunette waves..

His daughter had the same curl pattern. Almost the same cut, too. Clearly Eddie was the acting barber of the family. Something you’d find adorable if it wasn’t for the pang of rejection in your stomach.

Daughter. Family.

The words repeated themselves in your head as your eyes wandered to the black tray beside the tool cabinet. He wore several large rings. Lots of jewelry, in fact, but you couldn’t remember if any of them were a wedding band, and the embarrassment of developing a crush on a married man for weeks without taking two seconds to cross reference his left hand burned your cheeks hot.

“Hi,” his daughter said cutely, swaying from foot to foot while holding two of your fingers.

You crouched to her level. “Wanna draw while we wait?” She nodded, sucking on the tip of her thumb.

Steadying your spinny office chair while she climbed into it, you made sure she was comfortable before bringing out the black stool from Mr. Moore’s office, and sitting next to her. You opened your backpack, flipped to a clean sheet in your sketchpad, and presented it to her along with your colored pencils.

“Hmm, what should we draw?”

Adrie snatched the bubblegum pink color, and began her masterpiece. “Mrs. Teresa read us a book about a mouse.”

Thank God she said it was a mouse, because you didn’t want to be the one to guess what the two oblong circles on the page were.

Adorably, she filled you in on the parts of the story she remembered, and added a triangle of yellow cheese under the mouse, then waited for you to prompt another thing to draw. You followed the nocturnal theme and asked for an owl. She hesitated on what colors to choose, and you helped her pick out the shades of brown and tan.

“How old are you?” you asked while she inundated her bird with too many feathers.

“Four-and-a-half,” she said proudly. “How old are you?”

You raised your brows. “Certainly not four-and-a-half.”

At some point, your arm had wrapped itself around her. Maybe to help shift her closer to the desk. Maybe to collect her in a pseudo-hug when she completed her art. Maybe to let Eddie know everything was okay when he craned his neck to check on you while conversing with the man outside, and you put on your best face, grinning at the story his daughter reenacted about a cartoon she watched that morning at preschool.

“What next? What next?”

“Let’s see.. Can you draw me a bat?”

She was more sure of herself, grabbing the black pencil and outlining an entire colony of bats mid-flight with more attention to detail. “My daddy has bats.”

“He has bats?” you questioned, sweeping loose hair out of her face.

She pointed to her elbow.

Thinking on it for a moment, you perked up. “Oh! He has tattoos?” She recognized the word, nodding vigorously. “Interesting, interesting.”

She’d hardly begun to fill in their wings when Eddie opened the door, and held up the comically small backpack slung on his arm, signaling it was time to leave.

You helped her down from the chair, and she excused herself to the bathroom, which only contributed to the awkward silence when she disappeared down the hall and Eddie was forced to wait at your desk.

It didn’t have to be analyzed, nor stated. The reality.

He had an entire life outside of work.

Duh. Of course he did, but still. It was one he never shared with you. Not like you earned the privilege to know, or to be included in anything he didn’t want to divulge, but with how private he was, it came as a surprise.

Invoking the thousands of dollars you spent on acting classes, you moved on, and kept your tone light, “The butterfly backpack suits you. Not sure about the color, though. Bright pink clashes with your navy blue outfit.”

Tough crowd.

His sulky demeanor permeated in his dull gaze trained on his stained sleeves. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dumping her on you like that. Normally my uncle has the day off work and can take care of her, but he’s gotta go in because someone called out sick, so, yeah..”

If it were at all appropriate, you would reach across the countertop to soothe him from picking at his torn cuticles. But it wasn’t appropriate. So you didn’t.

You locked your hands behind your head and leaned back in your chair. “Funnily enough, I worked a brief stint as a clown for children’s birthday parties, so I’m actually quite comfortable entertaining them.”

“I’m shocked,” he said, void of shock. Finding the strength to lift his eyes from the animals she drew on your sketchpad to the encouraging curve of your lips, he tried to match your grin, but it fell flat. “At least you can go home on time today.”

You sucked in a breath for a quick retort, but Adrie interrupted you in her tiny voice, “Daddy! I can’t reach the sink!” And maybe that was for the best before you humiliated yourself more.

Because, the truth of the matter was, you always had the ability to go home on time. It was only because Eddie stayed behind that you made excuses to sit at your desk past your scheduled hours, prattling off some nonsense about memorizing the catalog.

“C’mon,” he said to his daughter, supporting her on his hip. “Let’s get going.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t exactly patient, either. The creeping exhaustion he kept under wraps was breaking through. Stress fractures in the mask he wore around others. The sanity he gripped for dear life for the sake of Adrie.

He caught the empathetic pinch between your brows, and used the last of his energy to turn so his daughter could see you. “Say ‘bye,’ and ‘thank you’ for playing, Adrie.”

She waved with the same enthusiasm as a golden retriever wagging their tail. “Bye! Thank you!”

“Bye, Adrie,” you laughed. “Bye, Eddie.”

Like usual, he didn’t respond. Today that was okay.

————

Eddie was on the verge. He was trembling, failing to loosen a bolt on the water heater to investigate why it broke–again–when his hair was yanked–again–and his knuckles scraped a bent piece of metal–again.

He was kneeling on his kitchen floor, craving nothing more than a shower to wash away the work week until his skin burned, but he was not afforded the simple luxury.

No relaxation. Not for him. No one to call on when Wayne was gone. This was his life to fix. On his own.

After repairing cars all day, he was exhausted. Touched out. But Adrie needed something from him, something he couldn’t understand with his tired mind. All he wanted was a break. All he needed was a break from her using his coveralls to scale his body. All he sought was the energy to deal with her pulling his hair.

But he was not spared the fortune.

“Adrie, please,” he resorted to begging. And when she didn’t stop, he withdrew his arms from the closet, and pried her hands off his hair, peeling her away and setting her on the floor.

She made to grab him again, but he used his waning strength to squeeze her arms to her sides, giving her his full attention she fought for.

“Can I get you a snack? Or put something on the TV? Do you want a nap?” He listed off anything, shaking and desperate.

“I wanna play with Daddy.”

Guilt amplified the shame.

He was a shit dad. He knew. He did his best and it was never good enough.

“I know you do,” the words fluctuated in the wake of water stinging his eyes. “I know you do, but Daddy needs to fix this. I can make you a snack and you can eat it in the living room. How ‘bout that?” Under normal circumstances, that wasn’t allowed. She had a penchant for dropping sticky food on the carpet–which was just another thing he’d have to get around to cleaning–but he was willing to bend the rules for the promise of a shower.

Adrienne thought about his offer for a long while, and settled on his deal.

And yet, it was hours.. hours until he was able to sit down.

The water heater required more service than he initially thought, and his daughter wasn’t entertained by herself for very long. She came to him in intervals of minutes, climbing up his back and hanging from his neck. He stopped caring. He didn’t have it within him. He made sure she was safe, and that was it.

He fed her a dreadful dinner, and she was so happy for her overcooked noodles in pasta sauce. He saved the leftovers. Put them in the nearly-empty fridge and took out two beers for himself, cracking the tops before sinking into the couch.

Adrienne stood between his legs while he wrapped her in her favorite blanket, and placed her in his lap. The top half of his coveralls were tied by the sleeves around his waist. No matter how dirty he was, this was how they ended the night. Him staring blankly at the TV, and her cheek on his chest, ear pressed to his white tank top, listening to his heartbeat. Curling her fists into her tattered quilt in response to him nuzzling the top of her head, and resting there in a content hum. Closing his eyes. Turning off his brain. Tipping back swigs of beer until he felt better, and giving her kisses until she giggled and squirmed.

The kisses were as much for her as they were for him, giving and receiving the only affection in his life. Apologizing for earlier when he couldn’t stand to be touched.

Her hug was small, yet powerful. Clumsy, but what he needed. Another person to gather in his arms and have their weight fall asleep on his chest.

He collected Adrie, and gave her a few more doting kisses while carrying her to bed.

“Stay, Daddy.”

Sometimes he did, just to have a real bed to sleep in, but with how long it took to fix the water heater, there was only enough hot water to bathe her. He’d have to wait until the morning.

“Not tonight, Daddy’s still dirty from work.”

It hurt to walk away. It hurt more to sleep on the lumpy couch. Hurt worse when Wayne came home to crash on the roll out bed, and the sun funneled through the windows, and the day started all over again.

Hurt the most when Eddie thought about the surprised look on your face when you learned he had a daughter.

Hurt the least when he imagined a world in which you wouldn’t care, and still flirted with him come Monday morning, because fuck, it was the only thing he looked forward to after Adrie’s meltdowns on the way to school.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

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anantaru · 3 months

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cw. [ex]plicit, forbidden romance, passionate haithie, fem! reader

the lingering thought of living through a forbidden romance with alhaitham.

“we shouldn't be doing this but it feels so good,” while you exchange deep breaths, eyes misted with a delirious glow.

right now, nothing seemed important enough for you to muffle your cries and heaves, as it was the only way to vocalize your feeling.

but a piercing reservation for this relationship was always there.

the irremediable sorrow of what would happen if you do get caught, if someone sees you steal a couple more kisses, brush your hands together lightly when you walk past each other. it's present, that haunted look on your face, and it was impossible to cure it as it overcame you with a shaded gloom, casted above you as it applied layer after layer of unsettling emotions.

yet your heart twists when you feel him kiss you again, again— and again, as if alhaitham silently sensed how you were giving yourself to the negatives parts of your secret relationship that actually contributed to many positive instances in your life.

"i hate it, so much," that hurt, you realized, to say it out loud and feel it hang above your head, "i hate it so much, it pains me!" to voice your emotions to him too— as if it didn't kill him as well.

but you close your eyes now, your lashes shining with a threat of tears, attempting to ignore the wounds inside of you and go back to focus on what was right now, towering before you. it being alhaitham, the man you loved, so fucking much, pleasing you to his heart’s content.

the scribe traces your muscles with his fingertips before pulling himself in you again, his lips parted and glistening on top of yours. everything considered, there was a strange, almost insatiable sort of pleasure bundling inwardly, he simply never looked at you like this before.

"oh? you're still concerned someone might hear us?"

"no, I'm not," you avert your gaze in denial, but the bitterness on your facial features told the entire story to his sharp pair of eyes. you suddenly close your arms around his neck so you could kiss— and better, shut him up, so that alhaitham would also forget about your panicked outburst and resort back to filling you with pleasure.

"good, me neither, i couldn't give a damn anymore."

"what—" this was probably one of the most miserable dirty talk sessions in history of such— if you can even call that awkward conversation that.

alhaitham silently hooks his fingers under your hips before pulling you off and on him, repeatedly, but this time faster as your lower body automatically arched upwards so he could move you on and off his cock in the most pleasurable, precise way. to have your sweet cunt split by his girth—it's maddening and you feel him throb inside of you as he drags himself against your warm walls, luxuriating in the softness of your pussy.

alhaitham slumps into your body, "i-don't-care-anymore-" and at each full throated groan, he spills a new word to complete his sentence.

now, everything had gotten more hot— scorchingly hot but cold too, precisely all at once and at the same time, your creamy walls being rubbed with passionate rolls of his cock as his pelvis hits yours.

everything between your thighs retorted to feeling swollen and well used, your hips sore enough to give up but you did not want to, not now, not ever, not when there was nothing that made you feel as good and free as this.

yes, alhaitham made you feel free, like you could achieve anything in life and have him by your side at the same time.

in the course of this, you close your eyes before begging him to kiss you again, uncontrollably make out with you until your lips would strain and hurt. and alhaitham notices, pushes deeper in, so deep that his shaft had been entirely webbed in your liquids and made them ooze out whenever he pulled his cock out.

he does it with such ease, like he's meant to do this, "i don't care whether people will spread rumors," and presses his lips on top of yours, muffling.

"because there's only one person i care about."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

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charlessainzz · 1 month

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A Maxie request where the wags take the guys on in paddle and actually win and they get all butt hurt ?

thank you for the request! hope it's similar to what you wanted :) also I've learned I really like writing for Max haha

Sore Losers

Max was a sore loser. He knew that and you knew that. So when he suggested you and Alex play against him and Charles at paddle, you had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well. When he suggested the “friendly” game of paddle, Max had no clue in his mind that he would lose. Both drivers thought this would be a fun game where they could show off their skills to their admiring girlfriends. Little did your boyfriend know, you were a childhood champion at tennis so this… it would be a cake walk.

“Prepare to face the master y/n!” Max shouted from across the court. He turns and gives Charles a high-five as he’s about to serve. You let out a breath, and knew it was time to get to work. As Charles served, you glided to the ball and hit it back over scoring a point. Both men froze in their tracks in disbelief. What had just happened!

Blowing Max a kiss you shout, “Okay let’s do that again!”. Alex began laughing as both guys shook their heads and got back into position. Alex hardly had to put in any work except help keep an eye on the boys’ next move. You were a beast at paddle, and it was leaving the other three quite shocked. Each hit was precise and sent out like a shot. Point after point after point, you and Alex were about to beat two high performance athletes. They would never be able to live this down.

You and Max were in a staring contest from across the court. Both with an intense gaze trying to intimidate the other. Sweat was trickling down your forehead, hands tightly gripping the handle, and your breath becoming erratic. There was one game point left to win.

Alex serves the ball, and there is a brief back and forth with the ball. Max hits it back in your direction as you dive and whack it back. Just when you think Max is about to reach the ball, he trips and falls to the ground with a thud. The girls win!

“Oh shit! We did it!”, you scream as you throw Alex into a hug. You’re both hugging and celebrating that you just beat these idiots. As you turn back laughing, Max throws his racket on the court leaving it bent. Charles is seated on the bench with his head in his hands. What sore losers!

“So what do the winners get?” Alex jokes with them. Both look up and roll their eyes as they walk back towards the locker rooms. You clean up your area, and say some awkward goodbyes. As you walk towards your car you try to grab your boyfriend's hand but he swats it away.

The ride home was very silent. No music, no talking, and no touching. Every attempt you made at contact was ignored. It started to annoy you that he would get so butt hurt over a game of paddle.

The rest of the night is silent. After an even quieter dinner, you thought maybe he’d watch that movie you had both been dying to see. However, Max retreats to his sim room to train. You decided you would not be the one to break. If he was going to be mad over something that was his idea, he was going to get himself out of it.

After an hour or two alone in the living room you figured it was time to put yourself to bed. You change into Max’s tshirt and cuddle up into the covers. With your back turned towards the door, you can’t help but wish he was here with his arms around you. But you needed to be strong! It was his fault that you’re in this icy mood.

Just when your eyes begin to shut, the door squeaks open. He shuffles around and slides into bed. You feel it dip and he moves towards you. Yet… he still doesn’t hold you like usual. You start to feel a lump in your throat, not sure how long you could go without his affection. When suddenly you feel his arms snake around your waist and he pulls you into his body. His hands slip under your shirt and you feel yourself relax.

“Wearing my shirt huh?” he tries to joke. With no response from you he continues, “I’m sorry y/n”, he says muffled into your neck. A big smile appears on your face.

“Ahhh the loser speaks”, you whispered. Max grunted pinching your side.

“Shut up… Charles and I already have plans to train for our rematch”, he boasted. You rolled your eyes and turned over to face him.

“If you want to hang out with Charles that badly you don’t have to make up an excuse”, you giggle as you run your hands through his hair. Max wraps his arms around you as he rolls on top of you smothering his face into your chest. Both of you begin laughing. Gosh how you had missed that sound.

Pulling his head up he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me how good you were at paddle?”. You begin tracing along his nose as you think.

“Hmmm I can’t tell you everything about me… that's what keeps the relationship so interesting”, you say with a smirk. He shows you a big toothy grin and gives you a kiss.

“What else don’t I know about you?” he says with narrowed eyes. He leans down and captures your lips in another kiss.

As the kiss ends you say, “Well… if you ever give me the silent treatment like that again, you’ll find out just how good I am at walking out that front door.”

Max’s eyes go wide and he takes a deep breath. “Noted”, he gulps.

Satisfied you turn back over and lay into his embrace. Both of you cuddled up simultaneously thinking of how much training you’ll have to put in to beat each other at another game of paddle. You really were the perfect couple.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #writtenbycharlessainzz #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 fic #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #max verstappen fluff

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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty One-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Angst, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Degradation Kink, Fingering, Teasing, Multiple Orgasm, Corruption Kink, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Sadism, Gagging, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Fighting/Bickering, Hatefucking(slightly).

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

The burden of Dumbledore's trust pressed down on your shoulders, a weighty responsibility that only seem to intensify as you and Mattheo emerged from his office. The meeting had been long and painstakingly detailed, each word etched with the gravity of the situation as you finalized all the details for your first ever mentorship, an opportunity you’ve been waiting fucking years for.

You should be excited about this arrangement, you should be completely fucking ecstatic to finally be given the chance to truly prove yourself, but as Mattheo pulled ahead of you; a heavy, unspoken tension hung in the air as you trailed behind him, your footsteps echoing like distant thunderclaps in the quiet corridor. Mattheo's brisk, determined stride, while partially obscured by his usual arrogance, mirrored the barely-restrained, silent fury that simmered within him. The annoyance in his demeanor was tangible, a seething anger that could be felt even from a distance.

Anxiety coursed through your veins, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on your shoulders. This wasn't just about Mattheo's future (one of which you did have a genuine care for, if you were being truthful with yourself); but your own credibility as a mentor was intricately woven into this journey as well.

Dumbledore's words reverberated in your mind, emphasizing the need for patience and compassion, urging Mattheo to embrace your guidance with open arms. However, his response was nothing more than an irritated eye roll, a silent rebellion that contrasted sharply with Dumbledore's hopes for cooperation.

Casting a fleeting glance at Mattheo's back, you couldn't ignore the stark contrast between his outwardly confident posture and the storm of emotions undoubtedly churning beneath the surface. It was evident that this arrangement had ignited a furious turmoil within him, even though he had begrudgingly agreed to it for your sake. The palpable displeasure he felt was impossible to overlook, a tension that hung in the air, threatening to shatter the fragile balance you both were attempting to maintain.

It was then, that you knew, the second you two finally decided to speak to each other, it was bound to be nothing other than completely fucking nuclear.

Entering the bustling Great Hall, you continued to follow timidly in Mattheo's wake, nervously clutching your books to your chest as though they were a impenetrable shield that could save you from this mess. An uneasy anticipation settled within you, bracing for the awkward stares and confused glances you were certain to receive from his housemates as you followed him to his table. But all to your surprise, the usually lively space resembled a ghost town at this early hour, thankfully devoid of his friends for the time being.

Taking a deep, shallow breath, you hesitantly settled into the spot on the bench beside him, feeling entirely like a fish out of water. The clatter of cutlery and distant murmurs of conversations taking place at the other tables filled the hall, yet an oppressive silence gripped you and Mattheo like a vice. His eyes, usually sharp and commanding, now held a darker, more guarded shade. A momentary glance flickered toward you before he locked his gaze onto his breakfast, his jaw clenched with a stubborn resolve.

Only a few weeks, you reminded yourself, trying to muster the courage to face what lay ahead. Surely, you could endure that, couldn't you?

"Look, Mattheo," you began cautiously, your voice a fragile whisper amidst the bustling ambiance. "I understand you're not happy about this, but it's just for a few weeks...I-"

"Don't bother, Raven," he interrupted with a low, dismissive growl, his tone laced with bitterness. "Don't concern yourself with my feelings. Just go on and conduct your experiments like I'm some little fucking lab rat, alright? I'll even lie down and make it easier for you."

His words struck you like a physical blow, leaving your chest constricted, the air escaping your lungs. The already palpable tension between you two seemed to tighten, intensifying the daunting challenge that lay ahead. You knew nothing about this arrangement was going to be easy--as the only time Mattheo ever seemed to open up to you, was when he wanted you to open up to him, physically.

"Gods, the only thing comparable to a lab rat is your fragile fucking ego," you grumbled, your voice laced with frustration and irritation. "And I'm not sure if you're aware, but the only bloody reason I'm here right now is precisely to concern myself with your feelings."

"Oh, spare me your noble intentions," Mattheo retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The only reason you're here is for yourself...Dumbledore isn't around, you can drop the fucking act."

You released a long, heavy sigh, Mattheo's words striking a chord within you. The snark that had initially fueled your response halfway dissipated, leaving behind a sense of resignation.

You gently shifted to face him. "I'm fucking sorry, alright? Is that what you want to hear?"

"Sorry for what, Raven?" Mattheo's piercing gaze met yours, his fingers clenching the fork in his hand with a dangerous intensity, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "Huh? What exactly are you fucking sorry for?"

You paused, taking a moment to contemplate your response. You understood that the mess you both found yourselves in was entirely of your doing. If only you had kept your mouth shut, refrained from provoking Berkshire so fiercely, perhaps neither of you would be entangled in this chaos. But there was no reversing the clock now; you were here, and there was no escaping the consequences. This was the defining point, the test that would determine whether you and Mattheo were destined for more than whatever the fuck you currently were, or if this really was all just some crash and burn type of secret fling.

"Sorry for yourself? Sorry for me?" He snarled, impatience colouring his tone as he shot the words at you like daggers. The veins in his hands bulged, revealing the intensity of his frustration. Your heart pounded, acutely aware of the boiling anger he exuded. "Or perhaps you're sorry for being unable to keep your mouth shut for longer then five goddamn seconds?"

"Be an asshole to me all you fucking want, Mattheo," you snapped, your tone cutting through the tension like a knife. "But I'm on your side here...I won't back down just because you're too bloody stubborn-"

"Give me a fucking break, Raven." Mattheo snarled, cutting you off abruptly, his voice dripping with cynicism. "You act like you're some divine oracle, dispensing wisdom to the masses."

"Men mock the Gods until they need them," you countered, your voice unwavering, meeting his cynical gaze head-on. "But even the greatest Gods can learn humility when faced with the consequences of their actions."

"Oh, now the perfect little princess wants to lecture me on humility, does she?" His eyes darkened, the clatter of his fork against the plate reverberating in the tense atmosphere--an echo that would have made you flinch on any ordinary day, but your anger shielded you from the noise. Your stare bored into his as he shifted, fully facing you. "I might be the black sheep of my family, but I've seen enough to know that some of those supposed white sheep aren't as fucking pure as they pretend to be..."

Your heart pounded fiercely, well aware of his underlying intentions. Steely determination set your shoulders rigid, refusing to let him chip away at your resolve. His attempts to manipulate the conversation only fueled your determination; you wouldn't allow him to twist the narrative in his favour. This was a battle of wits, and you were more than ready to hold your ground.

"Appearances certainly can be deceiving, can't they, Riddle?" You leaned closer, voice dropping. "How about we skip the mind games, and you answer me this...is a monster born a monster, or is it created?"

"Why don't you tell me, Raven?" He said, jaw clenching as he lowered his voice to a deep grumble. "I think you'd know a little too well how monsters are made, wouldn't you?"

You squinted at him. "Care to elaborate?"

A malicious grin curled on Mattheo's lips, his eyes narrowing with malevolence as he swiftly surveyed the room, ensuring the shield of privacy around you both, before fixing his gaze back on yours. Your palms turned clammy, a sheen of sweat prickling your skin, your heartbeats echoing like war drums in your chest. An unsettling anticipation hung in the air, as if Mattheo teetered on the edge of revealing something, something you were far from ready to confront.

“No,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion. “I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t…” you grumbled, running a trembling hand through your hair as you tried to steady your heart rate. “Gods, you’re going to be the fucking death of me.”

A long, exasperated sigh escaped your lips, your eyes never leaving Mattheo’s profile as he turned away, his attention refocused on his breakfast. Anger churned beneath your skin, a turbulent storm of frustration and confusion.

"I can't fathom what twisted events in your life turned you into such an asshole," you continued, your voice seething with frustration. "You're deflecting, like you always do, but this isn't about me, Mattheo. This is about you…I struggle to imagine who the fuck could have made you this way.”

Mattheo’s face immediately whipped back to face yours, the tendons in his hands tightening, like a noose prepared specially for your neck.

"No one made me, Raven. I made myself," he hissed, his eyes ablaze with a fierce determination, as if he was challenging you to understand the depth of his struggle, as if he figured you’d never, ever be able to relate. "When you're not fed love off a silver fucking spoon, you learn to lick it off knives."

His voice held a bitter resignation, a raw emotion behind his words, as if born from years of resilience in the face of hardship. Your contemplation was evident, your eyes scanning his face, picking up on the subtle hint of emotion behind his angry facade. His words struck a chord, hitting a little too close to home, but you’d never let him know it, not when he’s being like this.

After a moment of silence, you responded, your tone sharp. "Right...but I think you fail to realize just how quickly the blade becomes you, hm?"

“I wouldn’t expect the rich little princess to understand,” he muttered, his voice a low growl, contorted with annoyance. “You’ll never know what it’s like to have to claw your way through life, Raven...to not have everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter…”

“You have no fucking idea what I’ve gone through…” you hissed, teeth barred as you tried to suppress your irritation. “Don’t you dare mistake my empathy for ignorance.”

Mattheo's intense gaze lingered on your lips for a moment before flickering back to your eyes. His voice, barely audible, was laced with a mix of curiosity and a still seething frustration.

"Why don't you tell me then?" he whispered, the words hanging in the charged air between you. "Why don't you fucking tell me what you've been through?"

You blinked, searching his face for a trace of sincerity, but found none. His expression remained unyielding, a mask of stoic resolve. His eyes, however, burned with a furious energy that left you unsettled, forcing you to question the authenticity of this conversation. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions surged within you--anger, frustration, empathy, and a profound desire to understand him.

You felt torn between conflicting impulses. One part of you longed to grab him, to shake the truth out of him, to make him see that you were on his side. Another part of you yearned to envelop him in a comforting embrace, promising that things would get better, that he didn't have to carry his burdens alone. But the reality was stark. Mattheo's resilience had become a fortress, impenetrable and unyielding.

You wanted to help him, to ease his pain, but every attempt to reach out seemed to ricochet off his emotional armor. The frustration boiled within you, making you want to unleash your own pent-up emotions.

"Why would I tell you anything, Mattheo?" you whispered, your voice edged with a mixture of bitterness and disappointment. "Why would I open up to you when you’re still treating me like I’m your fucking enemy? You can't expect me to break down my walls when you're the one building yours higher with every bloody word…”

Mattheo’s gaze flickered with a blend of frustration and resignation as he absorbed your words. He let out a frustrated sigh, his tensed shoulders slumping momentarily before he met your eyes again.

“So, where do we fucking go from here, Raven?” he asked, his voice tinged with weariness. “If neither of us are willing to lower our guard, if all we’re destined to do is fight, how are we supposed to endure weeks together like this?”

You paused, your eyes examining the complicated boy before you, capturing every detail like an artist studying their muse. Mattheo’s hair, perfectly tousled in its disarray, seemed to hold secrets of its own, a testament to the storms that raged beneath the surface. His lips, plush and enticing, had the power to both infuriate and enthrall, a dichotomy that left you perpetually off balance. But it was the scars that adorned his skin, each one telling a story of battles fought and won, that drew your attention most. You had come to know and appreciate these marks, understanding that they were not just physical remnants but echoes of the struggles he had endured.

This complex boy had become an enigma you couldn’t unravel, a puzzle that intrigued and frustrated you in equal measure. He had managed to ignite a storm within you, a tempest of emotions that you had never experienced before. Anger, desire, frustration, and a strange kind of empathy blended into a tumultuous mix, leaving you unable to tear your eyes away.

As your gaze traced the contours of his jawline, your fingertips ached to explore the texture of his skin. Your eyes traveled lower, lingering on the strength of his shoulders, admiring the resilience that lay beneath the surface. A warmth spread within you, a contradictory feeling of tenderness and yearning, as you allowed yourself to be consumed by the depth of your emotions.

Finally, your eyes met his once more, locking onto his with a fierce intensity.

“Business as usual, Mattheo,” you whispered, a teasing smirk dancing on your lips. “Time to put all this pent-up energy to better use before we fucking tear each others’ heads off…” you said, turning away from him and gathering your books off the table, grabbing your bag before returning your eyes to his, noting his subtle confusion. “Meet me in the bathroom. Same one as before.”

Pushing up from the table, you strode out of the great hall with purpose, a tempest of emotions raging within you. Infuriation, irritation, frustration, and anger churned inside, seeking an outlet. You seethed at Mattheo for his obstinance, berated yourself for caring so deeply, and raged at the inevitability that all this effort might lead absolutely fucking nowhere.

You weren’t naïve enough to simply forget about the mountains looming between you, insurmountable obstacles casting shadows over any potential future. The weight of it all felt bone-crushing, yet despite the turmoil, a desperate longing remained--to kiss that infuriating boy's face, even amidst the chaos he so eagerly fucking caused you.

In the intimate confines of the bathroom, the soft glow of the overhead light illuminated your way as your textbooks found their place, haphazardly strewn across the counter, your bag slumped against the floor--all before Mattheo, his eyes ablaze with desire, stepped into the room alongside you. With a swift motion, he turned the lock, ensuring your seclusion from the outside world.

The air crackled with tension as Mattheo’s urgency consumed him. His hands, possessing a rough yet sensual touch, claimed your skin--wasting absolutely zero fucking time as his fingers traced fiery patterns over your hips and up your sides, moving expertly to undo the buttons of your uniform shirt. It was as if he were a wild beast, untamed and hungry, tearing apart its prey with both hunger and reverence. In response, your own hands, guided by a mix of passion and ferocity , mirrored his movements, exploring the firm contours of his bare chest as it came into view.

“Fuck, I’ve absolutely ruined you, haven’t I…” Mattheo growled, his eyes dark pools of intensity, holding you captive. With deliberate purpose, he discarded your uniform shirt, letting the fabric cascade to the floor in a whispering descent, finding its place along with his. “You never could resist me…not even when you’re fucking furious with me…”

“Gods, Mattheo…you’re such an arrogant bastard…” you spat out, even as you clung to him desperately, his lips attacking your neck as he bunched your skirt between his fists, his tall frame pressing you against the wall with hungry force. “I’m just sick of the arguing and bickering over nothing…let’s just shut up, fuck, and get this bullshit out of our fucking systems…”

“I’ll shut you up alright…but you might fucking moan a little…” Mattheo groaned, fingers slipping under your panties and quickly teasing over your clit, forcing a loud cry from your throat that he quickly silenced with his mouth.

You both were breathless, the intensity quickly reaching its boiling point, the anger palpable between your bodies as Mattheo’s lips pressed against yours with a fierce urgency, the collision of your teeth a tangible echo of the raw desire between you. The air seemed to vanish, leaving your lungs gasping for the oxygen that eluded them, as if consumed by the fervor of your connection. Mattheo’s fingers were relentless, quickly building you toward climax without mercy as his other hand kneaded your chest, groping your tits, pulling down you bra to tease your nipples, pinching the hardening buds between his rough fingers.

As you moaned, far louder than you’d intended, he claimed your bottom lip between his teeth, his growls resonating with a furious energy that matched the fervent tempo of your bodies. Your response was instinctual, a desperate squirming under his touch, your nails finding purchase in the supple flesh of his back, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.

“That’s it,” Mattheo growled, the pace of his fingers increasing as he sensed your impending climax. “You want to cum for me, don’t you, little slut…you might hate me but this little pussy will always fucking crave my touch…”

"Gods, you're bloody insufferable," you managed to gasp, your words tinged with exasperation. Yet, your body betrayed your irritation, responding to his expert ministrations despite your verbal defiance. "Always so fucking smug."

“Yeah?” Mattheo’s chuckle resonated through the charged atmosphere, a dark, smoldering sound that sent shivers down your spine while his fingers remained relentless in their pursuit, pushing you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. “And yet here you are, about to let me fuck you against the bathroom wall…”

“Oh-fuck…Mattheo…” in the face of his undeniable truth, your snarky retorts faded into nothingness, overpowered by the overwhelming force of desire that gripped you. “Fuck…fuck-y-you…”

Mattheo’s touch was a symphony of urgency, his free hand exploring every inch of your skin as if he sought to possess all of you at once. His mouth captured yours in a fierce, devouring kiss, leaving you breathless and gasping for air, refusing to allow you to pull away, to separate from him for even a second. With hardly two more quickly swirls over your clit, he forced you over the edge, your climax rippling through your body, your moans caught by Mattheo’s mouth as he continued to work his lips over yours, groaning in response to feeling your body break for him.

As your pleasure peaked and began to ebb away, Mattheo’s own desire surged to the forefront. With a low growl emanating from his chest, he withdrew his fingers from your slick heat and then forced them relentlessly into your mouth, pressing them past your lips and deep into your throat. He spun you around with urgency, thrusting you against the wall as his free hand worked to free his pulsing erection. It was an exhibition of pure dominance, a physical manifestation of his unapologetic hunger.

Pumping his fist furiously over his length, he thrust his fingers further into your mouth, eliciting moans of both pleasure and pain as you gagged on them. Without hesitation, he aligned himself with your core and slammed into you with all his might, driving himself deep inside you with a violence that left you shaking and screaming out against his fingers. Every inch of him stretched and filled you in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head, you fingers digging into the wall as fought to steady your breathing.

And as he began to pound into you, fucking you like you deserved the pain, you could almost feel the tension melting away, replaced by a deep satisfying heat that left you gasping for more.

"Shit, you're such a fucking bitch," Mattheo cursed between gasping breaths, pulling his fingers from your mouth and gripping your jaw as his free hand dug into your hip. "But fuck, this tight little pussy is perfect for my fucking cock, isn't it?"

"Ah-fuck…you know," you spat out, rolling your eyes as his fingers dug into your skin. "…I hate that you're so fucking good at this."

Mattheo sneered cockily, the sound echoing off the tiles of the bathroom, mingling with the rhythm of slapping skin and breathless moans. "Fuck, Raven…you’re a pain in the fucking ass, but at least you know how to take a good fucking..."

“Oh-fuck…barely…” you retorted, wincing as your body shuddered from his deep thrusts, Mattheo’s grip on your jaw tightening, his pace entirely animalistic. “Why do you have to be so fucking big? You--ah--you’re going to fucking break me…”

Mattheo’s eyes flashed dangerously at your words, and he pushed harder, deeper inside you. "That's fucking right…I told you I’d be the ruin of you Raven…” he growled, his voice torn with pleasure. “You fucking love it when I fuck you like this, don't you? You love the way it feels when I'm balls deep inside this tight little cunt…”

"Mmm…you're such an asshole," you groaned, your vision blurring and your lungs reaching for air. "But-fuck-I…I guess you have your uses..."

Mattheo’s grip on your body was unrelenting as he pounded into you with a ferocity that took your breath away. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving imprints that burned with the heat of your pleasure. His sneer only made you all the more aroused, the way he spoke to you with such condescension ignited a fire deep within you that you wished you could fucking ignore. With each thrust, your body jolted with sensation, building up until you were practically vibrating with need.

"Oh, yeah?" he spat back, sweat glistening on his forehead as he pressed you harder into the wall. "Well, I guess you're not completely useless either…you do a perfect fuckin’ job at being my dumb little slut…”

“Oh, fuck-Gods…you’re-…” you gasped out, feeling Mattheo’s fingers graze over your hip and descend towards your core. As his skilled digits made contact with your clit, your body jolted with pleasure, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy. His touch was quick and frantic, tracing tight circles over your clit that felt like they were set to push you to the brink of madness. “You’re such an asshole…”

Your pussy clamped down around his length in response to his ministrations. Your mind was awash in a sea of sensation, each touch and thrust sending waves of rapture coursing through your body. Mattheo only smirked, his lips finding your neck as he continued to pound into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

"You love it," Mattheo grumbled, burying his face in your hair as he thrust into you again and again. “You fucking love it…”

"Do not," you protested weakly, your voice cracking with pleasure as you felt your orgasm building inside you at a dangerously fast rate. “I-I…oh-fuck-fuck…”

Despite your bravado, you found yourself getting swept up in the raw intensity of your love-hate situationship, feelings of bliss and fury intermingling as Mattheo continued to pound into you, his fingers working your clit with experienced precision. You couldn't help but think how strange it was--that this same person who drove you so insane could also be the one who pushed you over the edge on the complete other side of the spectrum, all with his cock and fingers.

“Yeah…yeah that’s right…” Mattheo’s breaths were hot and ragged against the back of your neck as he pounded into you mercilessly, overwhelming you with the sheer force of his carnal need. “You’re going to cum on my fucking cock, princess…it’s inevitable, just let it happen…”

As Mattheo’s breaths scorched your neck, his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the orgasm edging closer. You snarled back at him, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "oh, Gods--fuck…let me just fuel that f-fucking ego of yours some more…”

But even as your walls tightened around him, you knew it was true. Your body was building to climax, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. All pretense of control and decorum had been lost, replaced instead with raw, unfiltered lust. You were nothing but a vehicle for his pleasure, a way for him to sate his burning desire, but he was that exact thing for you as well.

Even while the two of you were pulsing with anger at each other, he couldn’t resist the urge to give you the most pleasure out of this possible, reducing you to a mere pile of putty at his feet.

And you couldn’t hold off any longer. “Fuck-Mattheo!”

Your walls clenched around his cock, waves of pleasure washing over you, threatening to drown you entirely as Mattheo’s fingers swirled furiously against your clit, his free hand leaving your jaw and clamping over your mouth to muffle your screams as you shattered against his cock, your pussy milking him for every last ounce of ecstasy possible. Mattheo seemed to fucking love this, letting out a deep, predatory growl as he continued to fuck you through your high.

His fingers never stopped their assault on your clit, working you relentlessly as he thrust deeper and harder. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear.

“There we go…let it all out, baby…” his words sent shivers down your spine as your orgasm continued to pulse through your body, making it hard to think or or breathe or speak. “…you were made for this fucking cock, no one compares to you…”

His words sparked heat in your veins, gasping for breath beneath his palm as he finally pulled his fingers from your clit, bringing them up to your chest, groping your tits as he continued slamming into you, his pace erratic, his hips sputtering as he veered closer to his high, holding you firm to his chest, fingers digging into your cheek with intense possession.

“Mm…fucking hell…” Mattheo growled, the sound of his groan reverberating through your entire body as he breathed it directly against your ear, the words torn with lust. “I knew you’d be a good fuck but I didn’t know you’d be this fucking good…shit-“

Mattheo’s hips stalled for a moment as he let out a low, guttural groan--finally reaching his own aggressive climax. The sensation of him filling you up set off another wave of pleasure, and you moaned softly under his palm, your walls involuntarily clenching around him as he pumped you full of his release, his muscles contracting and breath sputtering against your neck as he finished.

For a moment, Mattheo remained there, his cock buried inside you, his hold on you still tight and unyielding as you both worked to catch your breath, his hand slowly sliding away from your mouth and travelling down to cup your jaw, directing your head to the side to meet his lips, capturing you in a feather soft kiss.

“You can tell me all your secrets Raven…I promise they’re safe with me…” he murmured against your mouth, his voice a soft breeze carrying the weight of his sincerity. “…but you won’t get anything out of me...it’d be wise if you stopped trying.”

The impact of his words hit you like a heavy blow, settling in your chest like a fifty-pound brick. Gathering your strength, you steadied your breathing as he finally released his grip, pulling away from you. Frustration etched across your features as you spun around to face him, your brows knitting in impending irritation as you watched him deftly fasten his belt, the metallic click echoing in the charged silence of the room. With a swift gesture, he reached for your shirts, discarded on the floor, and passed you yours with a stoic glance.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice laced with vulnerability, almost scared of his answer. “Why do you insist on being so fucking guarded…so fucking cold? You know this mentorship is literally all about working through your issues, right?”

“You said you wanted me, Raven…” his voice was low, almost a whisper, and he didn’t dare to look at you.

Your confusion grew, the anxiety pooling in your chest grew too. “I-I do…”

“Then take what you fucking get.” He snapped, his head whipping toward you, anger rekindling in his dark eyes. “You’re already in my head…I can’t let you get any fucking further…”

Your lungs stalled, your breath hitched. You could hardly blink. “Mattheo-“

“No--see, this is your fucking problem, Raven, you just don’t know when to fucking stop…” he hissed, the fury evident in his every word. He snatched his bag from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder in one swift motion before closing the distance between you. In just two determined strides, he bridged the gap. “You’re just like my fucking brother…you have to excel at everything, fix everything, everything needs to be fucking perfect for you…

You braced yourself, shoulders tense with anticipation, acknowledging the anguish etched across his face. It was a silent plea urging you to put aside any disputes. This was a time for quiet surrender, a moment demanding your undivided attention.

“You know yourself that monsters are fucking created, Raven. They’re made…” his words dripped with disdain as he spat them out, his gaze piercing into yours, dissecting your reaction. “I’m not guarded, I’m not fucking cold…I’m a fucking result…”

Behind his eyes, you could almost hear the gears turning, processing the impact of his words on you. A deliberate, slow breath escaped his lips, carrying the weight of his frustration and disappointment. He took a deliberate step back, his head shaking in a mixture of disbelief and resignation, as if acknowledging the futility of the situation between you.

“I’m not sure what you except from all of this…but you know yourself, just as I do, that this fucking thing between us is nothing other than a goddamn dead end…over the second that graduation rolls around…” he raked a hand through his hair, his eyes briefly flickering towards the door. “Let’s not make the inevitable hurt any fucking more than it has to, yeah?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the air around you suddenly suffocating. Deep down, you acknowledged the truth in his words, but hearing him say it out loud felt like a punch to the gut, the pain far more intense than you had anticipated.

“Right, no…you’re totally right, Mattheo,” you forced the words out, swallowing the hurt that threatened to consume you, your hand reaching for your bag. “I…it just feels incredibly unfair to me, that your veins are full of ice water, while mine are fucking boiling…”

Mattheo locked eyes with you from his position by the door, the emptiness in his gaze almost tangible from across the room. With a steadying breath, you squared your shoulders, mustering the strength to approach him.

“I know you’ve done bad things…I don’t judge you for them, I’m not perfect either…but I am not your fucking brother, and I am not against you…” you said, the words slipping past your teeth before you could even think to stop them. “Sure, you’re an asshole--and sure, perhaps it’s warranted, considering you’ve clearly been through some shit..but your worst sin yet, is that you are destroying your chance at finding peace, for nothing…”

The weight of your words hung in the air, palpable and charged.

“If you don’t want to help yourself, then fine…I won’t push you,” you whispered. “But you’re stuck with me for three weeks. Wether you enjoy my continual presence next to you, or not.”

With a resolute resolve, you pushed past him, the echo of your footsteps fading into the silence, leaving him alone to grapple with the truth you had laid bare.

————————-

Chapter 22->

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ageofstarkey · 8 months

Text

nervous energy ✰ m. riddle

summary: it’s just been one of those days, and you seek out matthéo to make it better.

pairing: best friend! (but maybe something more?) matthéo x reader

warnings: nothing really!! just some very vague mentions of anxiety related thingssss

note: another lil baby matthéo blurb!! just love-sick théo being an absolute softie for reader :’)))) also if you’re new here - i headcanon matthéo as french (hence the accent on the e!! so his name would be pronounced muh-tay-o, and théo would be tay-o bc i think it’s a cute nick name) okay okay anyways hope you enjoy!! feel free to submit hp requests (marauders or original era!! no smut!! <3)

masterlist

reblogs & comments are so appreciated <3

✰ ✰ ✰

with a quiet little sigh, you knock at the door of the boy’s dormitory. you’re filled to the brim with nervous energy, fingers worrying at the sleeves of your sweater as you wait.

after what feels like a near lifetime, the door swings open with a loud, familiar groan. matthéo stands on the other side, and the mere sight of your best friend causes you to lose any semblance of composure.

before he can even so much as say hello, you’re throwing your arms around his neck. “woah - hey” he stumbles back but quickly steadies himself, wrapping tentative arms around your waist. “what’s wrong?” his voice is soft in a way it only ever is around you, and it takes everything in you not to break down and cry.

“bad day” you murmur weakly into the fabric of his t-shirt. your voice is muffled, but his arms tighten around you in silent understanding. “i just feel weird”

“d’you wanna talk about it?”

you make an awkward attempt at a shrug, arms still wrapped firmly around matthéo’s neck. “i don’t think so.”

“okay. that’s alright.” he’s quiet for a few seconds, one hand stroking up and down the length of your spine absentmindedly. “is there anything you need?”

you sigh softly as you pull away from matthéo. your arms fall back to your sides, and you try to ignore the way one of his hands remains firmly on your waist. “can i just… stay here for a little?”

his lips turn upwards in the barest hint of a grin. “you can stay as long as you’d like.”

#i don’t know how much i like this but i’m posting it anyways LOL #please send reqs!!!!#ageofstarkey writing <3 #ageofstarkey harry potter <3 #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys fanfic #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin boys blurb #mattheo riddle #benjamin wadsworth #marcus lopez

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loveharlow · 7 months

Text

LIVE BAIT

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader, Topper Thornton x Fem!Reader (one sided)

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [4.1k] Left alone with Topper while Rafe is out, his best friend seems to take a shot at you...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, dark!rafe, gullible!reader, sexual coercion/manipulation, deception, cheating, yelling, manhandling, implied murder/attempted murder

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU SAT ON THE COUCH IN RAFE’S LIVING IN NOTHING BUT ONE OF HIS SHIRTS, WATCHING TV AS HE EMERGED FROM DOWN THE HALL. He had his phone and car keys in hand, the jingling of the metal causing your eyes to drift from the flashing of digital colors to him.

“Are you leaving?” You inquired, leaning your weight on one arm as you sat up on the couch slightly.

“Yeah, something came up but it won’t take long.” You frowned as you watched his frame edge closer to the front door of The Cameron Residence, his hand on the doorknob as he turned around to look at your half-dressed figure on the sofa. “Go put some pants on. Topper’s still coming by.”

You wanted to groan at his statement. “Can’t he hang out with Kelce? He always want to hang with you. Doesn't he have other friends?”

“He’s still upset about Sarah leaving him and he thinks she’ll pop up around the house. Look just, don’t say anything about her around him. Alright?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, mumbling something about Topper being annoying before turning away from him to face the TV once again, fully prepared to hear the slam of the front door signaling his absence. You never heard that confirmation, however. Instead, you were met with the feeling of Rafe’s calloused hand on your jaw just before you registered his quick footsteps, the man using his firm grip to tilt your head back where you were greeted with the sight of him staring you down.

“Drop the attitude. If I have to put up with you, you have to put up with him. So fix your damn face and be nice.” He told you sternly and in a hushed tone before releasing his grip and allowing your face to drop, the strain on your neck easing itself out. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the way his words stung in the slightest of ways. You could hear his heavy steps following their path back to the front door, the alarm system chiming and hinges creaking as he opened the door. “And I’m serious, go put some pants on.” Was all he said before you heard the slam of the front door.

NOT EVEN THIRTY MINUTES HAD PASSED SINCE RAFE LEFT. You’d resistantly done as he said, going into his bedroom and finding a pair of shorts you’d left here and tugging them on, despite them being swallowed by his shirt anyway, barely able to tell you were wearing them.

You were on the sofa again, laying on your back as you scrolled through your phone when suddenly, you heard the lock on the front door being twisted, mechanisms clanking against each other and echoing out in the expanse of the room. Head twisting towards the noise, a stream of sunlight welcomed itself in as Topper walked into the home, carefully closing the door behind himself.

Turning around, he was visibly startled by your face peeking above the back of the couch. “Oh, hey.” He breathed out, realizing it was just you. “I forgot Rafe said you’d be here, too." He spoke absentmindedly. "Where is he, by the way?” He questioned, walking around to stand in front of your outstretched frame.

You politely slid your feet off of the length of the furniture, clearing a space for him to sit next to you. You were both on two opposite ends of the couch and you didn’t miss the way he eyed the length of your exposed legs, tongue coming out to lick the corner of his mouth.

“He had to do something, said he’d be back soon.” You responded back, mainly giving your attention to your phone as you leaned against the arm of the couch and tried not to look at him. It was mildly awkward in the space — seeing as you’d only ever really interacted with Topper when your boyfriend was around and now that it was just you two, there was a tension that clouded the room. Rafe always served as an icebreaker and he wasn't here to break the ice.

Topper hummed in response. Eventually, you turned off your phone, diverting your attention to the TV and that was when you noticed it — Topper’s eyes fleeting to you every couple of seconds in your peripheral. Your legs were curled up underneath you and his eyes roamed your figure, up and down with little shame. This went on for a couple minutes until he spoke up.

“When did you say Rafe would be back again?”

Your wide eyes drifted to the blonde on the far end of the couch, nervously going between him and the program that was playing low in the background. “Oh, um, I didn’t. But he should be back soon.”

Only then did you notice Rafe had been gone for a fair amount of time. But it wasn’t anything new. Knowing him he could be back within the next five minutes or five hours, not a care in the world that you were stuck in the house with his best friend who wouldn't stop staring at you. Was there something on on your shirt? Did he want to say something?

“You know, he might be helping his dad. I heard something happened to one of the construction sites. A roof collapsed or something.” He told you, sitting up straighter. “...That could take a while.”

“Oh.” You said apprehensively. “If that’s the case then yeah, he might be a while. I can go to his room so you can have this space to yourself-”

“No, no,” Topper interrupted, dragging himself closer to you across the couch, now only inches away. Your back ached as you pressed yourself against the armrest, his sudden close proximity startling you. “I don't mind. We can keep each other company.” He spoke lowly, eyes boring into yours. One of his hands came up to caress your thigh, his fingers gliding across the flesh as your heart thumped in your chest. You didn't feel comfortable with that.

“It’s just that, I’ve been having a really hard time getting my mind off of Sarah, y’know? I could use the company.”

“I heard about that…” You mumbled.

The boy scoffed. “The whole island has. She really embarrassed me and it’s just been hard trying to act like I’m okay.” His eyes were on your lips now, eyeing them as he spoke. “But I think you could help distract me…”

You suddenly felt uneasy but also somewhat bad for him. As much as she had the rights to, Sarah had embarrassed Topper to quite the extreme. Not only did she dump him, but she was now dating a pogue who demeaned him at every given chance. It was a rivalry, of course. So, you couldn’t imagine his anger.

“Distract you…how?” Was the first thing that rolled off your tongue, the hand that was kneading your thigh coming up to gently grab your wrist.

“You could start by solving the problem you’ve created,” He said enigmatically, dragging your limp palm to rest against the crotch of his pants where you could feel a prominent erection poking through the fabric. The action set off alarm bells in your mind, quickly tugging your hand away and pushing yourself further up the couch.

Shaking your head side to side, you spoke a mile a minute. “I think I gave you the wrong idea. I didn't- I don’t think Rafe would be okay with this-”

“He is.” Topper blurted, cheeks turning red.

“...He is?”

“He would be. I’m his best friend, right? You gotta trust me, I know him better than anyone. Plus, he would be proud of you for helping out his friend. I know he would.” The boy explained.

Topper wasn’t a fool but he knew that you could be. Not a fool necessarily...gullible would be a better phrase. To some people, you seemed bimbo-ish — a pretty face with not a clear thought behind your eyes. He always thought that was why it was so easy for Rafe to walk you the way he did. Rafe had you wrapped around his finger and there was no doubt that he loved you, though it may not always seem evident.

Topper had always thought you were desirable and secretly admired the way you absentmindedly submitted to Rafe without hesitation, he didn’t know whether it was out of fear or love, or both. All he knew was that look that you got in your eyes whenever Rafe was around, that pleading, doe-eyed look you sported in the presence of your boyfriend was something he’d wanted to see up close and personal for a long time now. You were a craving, a sexual fantasy that Topper could never have. Not until now, anyway.

And if he had to spew a couple little white lies to get you to spread your legs, then he was going to do whatever it took. And Rafe would never have to know. Because he wanted you more than he feared Rafe.

“You really think so?” You questioned the validity of Topper’s claims, the only thing on your mind was the reward you’d possibly receive for helping your boyfriend’s best friend feel just a little bit better in the face of heartbreak.

“I know so. In fact, Rafe...actually suggested it.”

That statement made your gut twist. You didn’t know why, but it just did. It didn't sound like something Rafe would do, but Topper said he knew Rafe better than anyone. You guessed that included you.

“Well, if it’s okay with him then…”

The blonde smiled at this, his hands moving your waist and prying your frame off of the edge of the couch, practically yanking you into his lap. His blue eyes running between your pupils and your lips before he crashed his mouth against yours, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between them. You yelped into the exchange, the frantic neediness of it all catching you off guard.

You maneuvered your legs into a more comfortable position, now straddling his lap as his boner pressed directly against your core through the thin fabric of your shorts. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this — he was so much different from Rafe. You were used to the way Rafe loved you — the firmness in the way he kissed you, the small grunts he would let out in between each one, how he would eventually trail his kisses down the valley of your neck, the valley of your breasts, down your stomach.

Why didn’t he give Topper any kind of pointers when he suggested this? Probably because this is more for Topper than it is for you, you thought. This wasn’t for you at all, actually. You were a distraction. Or so you’d been told.

His tongue roamed the inside of your mouth, the warm muscle circling as it waited for your own to do the same. You tried to focus on pressing your lips against his with the same pressure, but you could never seem to catch whatever wavelength he was on. Eventually, he pulled back, his lips red, wet, and swollen.

Your eyes tried to catch his but they were laser focused on your collarbone that was peeking out above Rafe’s shirt. His hands balled into fists, balling up the fabric that you wore into them and pulling it over your head and dropping the garment to the floor, leaving the ‘v’ of your breast exposed to him. The bra you had on pushing them up, making them look plump. You didn’t miss how Topper bit his lip as one of his hands came up to fondle one of the rounds of flesh, his hips bucking up into you as he did so.

His hands circled your back, coming into contact with the clasp of your bra, ready to undo the item and let it fall until he seemingly decided against it, mumbling something about not wanting to make too much of a mess.

He was much more silent than Rafe. Rafe was not one to keep quiet during intimacy, always groaning, or swearing, and whispering something so dirty into your ear that you couldn’t help but moan out loud, arching into him.

The boy stood up with you on his lap, holding you up by your behind as to not drop you. With you in his arms, he turned as he stood up, gently laying you on the couch on your back. He wasted little time in dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs together, leaving you exposed and on display for him, a cool breeze passing between your legs.

“Shit…” Topper cursed under his breath as his eyes were glued to your dripping core. You were slightly confused when his hands immediately went to the button on his pants, undoing the closure and shoving the clothing down his legs, the fabric pooling around one of his ankles as he didn’t even bother to completely remove them.

He propped one leg up on the couch, the other planted on the floor as he pulled you closer by the hips. Using one of his hands, he guided the tip of his cock that was leaking with precum to your entrance. He teased himself before actually pushing it in, rubbing the head of it against the wetness that was dripping from you and onto the sofa, surely leaving a wet patch beneath you. Gliding it up and down, stopping to circle your clit before eventually pushing into you.

You let out a soft gasp, feeling a slight throb of pain as he stretched you out. You watched the boy carefully above you, one of his hands now outstretched as it gripped onto the armrest behind your head, eyes rolling back as his hips stuttered when his dick hit your cervix.

The intrusion didn’t feel bad but it didn’t feel great either. You didn’t know if it was because this was a foreign thing or because he just wasn’t Rafe.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you like this…” He muttered, almost mindlessly, under his breath. Eyes clouded over with pleasure as he drew his hips back slowly, only to push back in at an equally slow pace.

The statement threw you, prompting you to question his real motives but Topper was a genuine person, right? And he wouldn’t lie to you for no reason, especially not for his own gain…

Right?

He told you that you were just helping him take his mind off of Sarah, that this wasn’t wrong. So, you were taking his word for it. More than his word, actually. Topper wasn’t just Rafe’s friend, he was yours too, wasn’t he?

Topper’s slow pace wasn’t something you were fond of, you quickly realized. Your orgasm not even beginning to build but you kept quiet. This was to help him, not you. He was breaking out into a light sweat despite his slow momentum, biting harshly into his lips concealing any noise he may have made, veins protruding from his biceps as his grip on the headrest grew deathly.

It wasn’t long before he came, not bothering to pull out as he did so, letting his seed fill you up, some of it hitting the inside of your thighs as he pulled out. When he seemed to have emptied himself out, he barely acknowledged you as he retreated away, standing fully from the furniture as he shuffled his pants back up his legs.

His breathing was shallow and his face was flushed, he didn’t even bother to clasp the button on his pants back together before he was making his way down the hall, presumably to the guest bathroom to get himself together.

You steadied your own breaths, labored from the unfamiliar experience rather than exhaustion or pleasure. Carefully, you sat up straight on the couch, shimmying your panties and shorts back onto both of your legs and dragging them back up to your waist, trying to ignore the way the fabric smeared his cum against your thighs. Topper’s secretion was still dripping out of you, making the fabric against your center uncomfortable — hot, sticky, and scratchy.

Fishing around on the floor, you retrieve Rafe’s shirt that had been abandoned in the beginning, slipping the loose fabric back over the length of your body.

Assuming Topper had gotten what he needed and your job here was done, you headed upstairs, prepared to shower in Rafe’s room.

You tried to ignore that feeling in your gut that had been bubbling since Topper put his hand on your thigh. You just couldn’t put your finger on why you felt so bad about doing a good thing.

BY THE TIME RAFE HAD RETURNED, TWO HOURS HAD PASSED. You’d cleaned yourself up, just throwing on another one of Rafe’s old graphic tees and a pair of sweatpants. When you’d returned downstairs after your shower, Topper was sitting comfortably on the piece of furniture as if nothing had happened. However, when you went to sit down, he’d tried to beckon you over to lay under his arm. You’d politely declined.

So, you both sat in silence once again. Topper put on a movie to watch while you went right back to scrolling on your phone, getting a text from Rafe about an hour into the movie that he was on his way back.

When he’d finally gotten back, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest, shooting your boyfriend a giddy smile as he shut the door behind him.

“Rafe!” You practically cheered, hopping off of the couch and skipping over to where he was kicking his shoes off at the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry that took so long…” He apologized mindlessly, eyes finally landing on you. “I’m glad you’re in a better mood.” He spoke, squinting his eyes with mild suspicion. His gaze drifted to Topper’s figure draped over the far end of the couch, jutting his head in his direction in greeting. “‘Sup, Top.”

“What’s good?” Topper replied nervously, not even able to maintain full eye contact with his friend. Rafe found it weird, making a face of confusion before ultimately letting it go. His eyes shifted back to where you stood in front of him, winding his arms around your waist, similar to how Topper had just hours ago.

Only Rafe’s touch was familiar — more comforting. The dirty blonde leaned down to press his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly for a few moments before pulling back as his eyes looked you up and down. His hands never left your waist as he walked you backwards towards the sofa. “Did you change?”

You glanced down at yourself, forgetting that you probably looked different than you did when he walked out of the door hours ago. You opened your mouth to reply honestly. You didn’t think what had gone down between you and Topper was some top-notch secret. After all, he said Rafe had suggested it. “Um, yeah. I just wanted to clean myself up after helping Topper out.”

Rafe’s face twisted at the statement. It’s not like it was an odd thing but he just had no idea what had happened while he was gone. “What happened?”

Now it was your face that was twisting, confused at his words. You opened your mouth to reply before Topper beat you to it, neck craned dangerously over the back of the couch as he spoke. “Oh, it was nothing, man. She was just being nice and getting me something to drink and spilled it on herself.”

Rafe seemed to take the answer at face value, not pressing any further as he guided you both to sit on the couch before he stopped in his tracks, hands letting go off you to rub at a dark spot on the fabric of the furniture that wasn’t there before he left.

“Did you spill whatever it was on the couch?” He questioned irritatedly, rubbing and scratching that patch that wouldn’t budge.

Neither you nor Topper responded as Rafe huffed, making his way towards the kitchen to retrieve something to try and scrub the stain out before Rose, the clean-freak she was, got on him about it. Standing over the sink however, he took notice of something — there were no glasses in the sink. In fact, the kitchen looked untouched from when it had been cleaned yesterday.

If you’d gotten Topper something to drink, where’d you pour it? Into the palm of his hands?

Rafe’s gaze rose to look at the blonde who was lounging on his couch and he’d looked up just in time to see his best friend’s gaze trail up the length of your frame hungrily.

The action made a thought appear in his mind, a crazy thought. Rafe wasn’t as naive as you, he saw the way his friends looked at you and heard the way they tried to speak to you when they thought he couldn’t hear. He didn’t expect any of them to act on their whims unless they intended to lose their lives.

He hadn’t even noticed your presence beside him until he felt your fingers on the skin of his shoulder through his shirt, shifting his gaze towards you who was peering up at him.

“Are you okay?”

The man’s eyes narrowed at you in the slightest, moving so that your faces were inches apart and he spoke in a hushed tone.

“The fuck did you do?” He questioned, tone short and mean. The look in his eyes had you scared and confused.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not-”

“So, nothing happened while I was gone?”

Your next response wasn’t as quick, mouth opening for a few seconds, eye fleeting between the two blondes before you answered. “All I did was help Topper out because he was sad about Sarah. He said you’d be okay with it, that you’d suggested it even-”

“Suggested wh- what the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe’s face was twisted, tone scolding as if he was upset with a child.

“I don’t know, he just started touching me and saying all this stuff-”

You were cut off when the irritated blonde grabbed you by the arms, slightly shaking you. “Tell me what happened.” He spoke menacingly. “All of it.”

You tripped over your words before you got them out, the blonde boy on the couch paying no attention to you and Rafe as you explained how he’d coerced you into sex only hours before Rafe came back. Rafe listened intently as you told him about his best friend came into his house, sat on his couch, and fucked his girlfriend. And he couldn’t believe that he was still breathing. Couldn’t believe that he sat, laid back on his couch like nothing had happened.

Topper was always telling Rafe how you were just a pretty face and had nothing going on up top. Rafe usually told him off, not allowing him to demean you. He’d never thought his words had any deeper meaning.

“...And I showered after. Rafe, I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you never think. That’s your problem.” He snapped under his breath, snatching himself away from you.

He knew you weren’t the brightest when it came to reading people. You weren’t an idiot or anything. You did well in school, you were academically gifted. But for some reason, when it came to socializing, you just weren’t there. You never caught on to sarcastic jokes, you didn’t know when people were flirting with you or using you. You were oblivious in that sense.

So when he looked back to see you with your head lowered, looking more shameful and upset than he’d ever seen you, he couldn’t help but sigh, using one hand to pull your head into his chest.

“I didn’t mean that, okay? It’s not your fault.” He felt your arms wind around his waist as your face buried into his shirt.

“I didn’t know. It felt wrong but he said you were okay with it. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry-”

“Shh, stop. I know, I know,” He cooed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Why don’t you go upstairs? Hm?” He pulled back, looking into your tearful eyes as you nodded, releasing your hold on one another before you made your way up the staircase, sparing a solemn look to Rafe before you disappeared.

Rafe eyed Topper who looked like he was struggling to ignore Rafe’s gaze burning into the side of his head. He didn’t know if he’d heard any part of your conversation but he could tell that the boy looked tense.

“Yo, Top?” Rafe called, back now turned as he inspected the kitchenware, eyes landing on the knife block before pulling out the chef’s knife. The object was swinging at his side as he turned back to face his friend.

“Yeah?” He replied, letting his gaze find the man standing in the kitchen. Topper looked nervous, a bead of sweat on his hairline.

“I hope it was worth it.” He snapped at him. "'Cause I'm going to fucking kill you."

General taglist;@livlaughquinn

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #angstober23'

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hirsheyskisses · 8 months

Text

OP Boys: Special Hugs (#1)

Luffy & Zoro

(Short Scenario)

Monkey D. Luffy

☆ Honestly, he's a hugger. Let's be real here, Maybe not like, the INSTANT he meets you, but the moment you are on his crew (trust me.. you'll get on the crew..) you are one of the many subjects of his physical contact

☆ a lot of times it may come off as way too energetic, arms being thrown around you or pulling you around, man's has no sense of a personal bubble

☆ but it gets (worse? Better? You don't know) when feelings get involved. If he didn't make it blatantly obvious he liked you, then you're either the densest person on the planet, or Luffy is horrible at flirting

☆ Let's be real here, it's probably both

☆ There is no escaping at that point.

"Hey! Where'd (Name) go?!"

Luffy questioned. He'd been searching on the Sunny forever, yet he couldn't find you! He'd checked the kitchen, your room, the pantry, the crows nest..

"(Name)? I think they're down in the medical bay with Chopper. They looked a bit under the weather." Nami didn't even spare him a glance: she was so focused on her map he was partially surprised she answered. But that was fine, because Luffy was focused too!

"(NAME)-"

He threw open the door to the medical bay, only to find you on the bed and leaning against the wall. Chopper looked up frantically and put his paws up, "they're sick! You shouldn't come in here-" "hey, Luffy." You rasped, and offered him a weak smile. Luffy completely ignored Choppers advice and ran to your side, protectively wrapping his arms around you.

"You're sickkkk? That sucks.. Chopper will make ya feel better though! Should we give them some meat?!"

You chuckled as you attempted to remove yourself from his grasp while Chopper sighed, "no, they need soft food! And you should leave Luffy, or you may get sick too!"

As if for the strict purpose of defying Chopper, his grip only tightened. "No! They need comfort.."

It wasn't as though you were complaining, his warmth was nice..

So Chopper made you up some medicine, after having giving up trying to make Luffy leave, and left the two of you.

"(Name).. you need anything?"

"No.. thank you."

His voice held genuine concern and your heart ached, knowing just how much the Captain cared for you. After a moment, you snuggled in closer. "'S cold." You slurred, arms wrapping around his torso whilst your head buried into his chest.

He took the hint, arm stretching across the room to grab an extra blanket. His hands worked the blanket around your body until you were tucked like a happy burrito, leaving him and you satisfied.

"..thanks, Luffy."

"Shishishishi! Anytime!" He laughed, taking his hat off and plopping it on your head.

Luffy began to talk for hours, about adventures they'd had before you'd join the crew, excitedly re-telling fights and funny stories from the crew. For a while, you were distracted from the discomfort of sickness, until you and him both fell asleep.

...it's safe to say he'd demand more cuddles after that. (Somehow.. he just doesn't get sick..l

Roronoa Zoro

♡ to be perfectly frank, he's not that much of a hugger. He's only hugged two crewmates, and that's Chopper and Luffy. Even for those two, its a rarity.

♡ but having been on the crew since the near beginning, your friendship with zoro was beginning to have a bit more connection than he ever intended to have.

♡ so came fourth of him asking (almost forcing) you to nap with him. At first, you just sat next to him, not really sleeping.

♡ honestly it was kinda funny. You'd both pretend to be asleep so the crew would give you guys some- half peace for a bit. You used to think it was dumb, but seeing as all the others (save for Nami) believed it, well..

♡ it became tradition

♡ sometimes when you both were a little down, he'd give you an awkward side hug, always looking so flustered afterwards, and it's just the cutest

♡ however, he soon finds a type of hug he really likes..

"That was some fight."

Zoro grunted, and you nodded in agreement. You two were the first to head back to the Sunny, to make sure it wasn't unattended for too long. Seeing as Zoro had no injuries and yours were very minor, you were best suited for the job.

"I'm beat, though. Those marines just kept coming.."

"You did good out there."

He replied, plopping on the deck and motioning for you to do the same, and you did. Sitting besides Zoro with a wince, "I let the one get a good hit on me.. need to work on that." You rubbed your side, and he glanced at you, "you can train with me later." He laid a hand on your head, smiling at you. Oh, that handsome swordsman has your heart, and you poked his cheek. "You better not go easy on me!" "Wouldn't dream of it, (Name)."

"I'm definitely going to be a sore fucker tomorrow, though."

He snickered and ruffled your hair, and you stuck your tongue out at him, "you won't let it happen again. That's all that matters- pain is a learning experience."

"Yeah yeah, ya old wise man."

"I am not old!"

"Yuh-huh, that's what an old person would say."

"Says the one complaining about aches in their bones-"

"I got hit by a very, very large stick-"

"...did you forget the word for staff?"

"...shut up, Mossbrain."

His mouth opened in a yawn, and you half followed suit. The bantering slowly subsided, and his hands unconsciously dropped to your shoulder, then slid down your back, holding you to his side.

If he did that intentionally, he didn't show it. His eyes had long since shut, and you were very familiar with how quickly he could conk out. A few moments of hesitation held you, before you wrapped your arms around his torso, a leg over his, and snuggled into his chest. His other arm moved to hold you, and,

"Ya better not plan on moving anytime soon.."

Lucky for him, you didn't.

So this became his favorite cool down after a fight.

Nami however, was not thrilled that the two people who were supposed to watch the ship fell asleep. RIP.

#roronoa zoro x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #straw hats x reader #straw hats

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intoxicated-chan · 3 months

Text

❜𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

Summary ➳ Daryl never liked it when the neighborhood cop Shane came around. You, oblivious to Shane’s attempts to flirt with you and don’t see the fuming Daryl.

(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “You” by Ari Abdul. Those who are waiting for the first chapter of JUDAS, it’s almost done. I’m just finishing the final touches before it’s uploaded. This is also very rushed, I’m sorry.

Word Count ➳ 900

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, MODERN AU/NO OUTBREAK, DUB-CON, SHANE, jealous Daryl, sexual content, p-in-v, protected sex, phone sex, hair pulling, pet names (baby, darlin’), overstimulation, little dacryphilia…

“Goddammit Daryl!” You clutched the sheets under you as Daryl pulled your head back by your hair. “S-Slow down!” You cried out.

Daryl seemed to ignore your plea, his eyes remained on your ass and how it jiggled by each hard thrust. He continuously slammed into your g-spot, doing so without mercy.

You had no idea what’s gotten into him, he was perfectly fine this morning…

But Daryl knew what was wrong, he was angry, maybe at you but most of his anger was focused on that shitty cop.

Shane Walsh.

Daryl never believed Shane’s bullshit excuses whenever he came around your neighborhood. It was like he knew when Daryl was around, he knew of his record and his brother’s which is why he always stood back and remained silent.

Daryl was out on your driveway working on your beat-up car. He used his arm to wipe away the layer of sweat on his forehead. You had brought out a glass of ice-cold water for him, you went back inside to retrieve a rag as he asked.

“Dixon!”

Daryl froze at that voice, he cursed Shane under his breath. He turned his head slightly, enough to get a view of Shane who exited his car and walked up to him.

“(Y/n) home?” He asked, his hands on his belt as a shit-eating grin was plastered on his face.

“Busy.” He grunted in response, going back to your car.

“Mind if check?” He took a couple of steps towards your door before Daryl stood in his way.

“I’ll get ‘er.” He didn’t bother taking a second glance at him because he knew Shane had won… Yet fucking again.

You had come down the stairs, a couple of rags in hand. “I didn’t think one would be enough-“

“Cop ‘ere.” He told you, taking the rags. “Lookin’ for ya.”

“Shane? Again?” You lifted an eyebrow and peered through your window to see Shane standing there, giving you a wave. “What’s he here for?”

“The hell should I know.”

You made your way outside, seeing Shane leaning up against his patrol car. “Hey, Shane, what brings you here?”

“Just checkin’ in, makin’ sure you’re alright. Y’know, keepin’ the neighborhood safe.” Shane’s eyes lingered down your neck, he fixed his posture, getting himself a better look at your cleavage.

“Well, everythin’ is fine here. Nothin’ to report.” You let out an awkward chuckle, fixing your shirt.

Back in the house, Daryl stayed by the window, jaw clenched as his hands formed into fists.

Shane leaned in, way too close for comfort. “You free tonight?”

“I- What?” It took you a couple of seconds before his words sunk in. “No, no. I’ll be here… with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Shane mocked. “Hard to believe a redneck like Daryl Dixon could be your boyfriend.”

“You don’t know shit, Shane. Find some other woman to ask out.” You sighed, growing frustrated.

Shane pulled out his pen and notepad, writing something. “It’s only a matter of time before he disappoints you. Call me when he’s gone or you want somethin’ better.” Ripping the paper, took your hand, and pushed into it.

Shane Walsh had crossed a line…

Daryl remembered snatching the number out of your hands and nearly ran out of the house just to punch him. You dragged him back to the room just to get him to call him.

“D-Daryl!” You mewled, shutting your eyes as you felt your hot tears slip.

“That’s it, baby, say my name.” He growled. He didn’t stop, even when you tightened around his cock, another orgasm coming down on you.

He released his hold on your hair, letting your head fall onto the pillow. He picked up his phone and began to dial the number. He left it by your head and on speaker.

“C’mon baby, let ‘im hear you.” He turned you over onto your back and shoved a pillow under your hips, letting him go deeper inside of you.

It felt like you were screaming, you couldn’t focus anymore. Not on Daryl, not on the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall… It’s a surprise that nobody had called to complain.

“Keep ya eyes on me darlin’.” He said, his hands coming to your wrists to keep them from covering your face when you tried to. “Look at me.” He demanded.

You opened your eyes to meet his blue ones, he licked his lips as his eyes were clouded.

Your nails dug into your hands. “Daryl! Daryl! Daryl!” You chanted his name over and over again, your legs coming around his hips to pull him closer.

That’s when you felt the pit again. “Daryl-!”

“C’mon, cum ‘round my cock. Let ‘im know who’s makin’ you feel like this, scream like this.” Daryl let out one final grunt as he came.

Your eyes shut instinctively as your back arched from the bed. Everything became white noise as you were sure you screamed louder than you could, waves and ripples.

Daryl slummed over your body, too tired to push him off or say anything.

He picked up the phone and smirked when he saw the call’s duration, he could hear panting on the other side. He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, hearing it hit something.

“Stay with me darlin’.” Daryl sneered at your fucked out face. “I ain’t gonna be done with ya for a long time.”

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straylightdream · 5 months

Text

rose-colored boy

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: bang chan x reader

↳ Life never goes as planned, when you were younger you always imagined as reaches your mid twenties you would be married with kids. Instead you’re stuck at home helping take care of your sick grandmother and still desperately searching for her fathers approval. The only thing in your life that makes you feel normal is Chan.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au, romance, angst, smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit sex, anxiety, and mentions of depression, crying and lots of emotions.

𝐚𝐧: I’m reworking a story I posted in 2020 here. This story is a one shot right now, but if there is enough interest I might write a part two.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲

The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach is an all too familiar feeling that you’re a disappointment. Inhaling a deep breath you're listening to your father gush about your brother and his new wife. Your younger brother sports a proud smile listening to your father. This family dinner was exactly like all the other ones you have shared.

“Y/N have you considered going back to school?” Your father asks, pointing his attention back at you.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath attempting not to roll your eyes at your father. He’s aware that you don’t have time to go back to school. He chooses to ignore the fact that your grandmother's condition is getting worse and your mother needs all the help she can get. Your father tends to live in his own world ignoring the problems you and your mother and his ex wife face. He stopped caring long before he left your mother, so it’s not like this is anything new.

Looking at your brother you give him a pleading look. You wished he would recognize your silent begging for help.

“I would love too, but mom needs my help with grandma,” you try your hardest to keep your tone even. You don’t need your father or your stepmother Hae-Won commenting about your bitchy attitude.

“Your mother needs to put her in a home and move on,” your father’s cold tone stings. He’s always been a more distant man, but at one point he did actually love your mother and her family.

“Mom needs Y/N,” your brother finally speaks up defending you.

“Darling, listen to your son,” Hae-Won rested her hand on your father's arms. Your stepmother tends to be the voice of reason when it comes to your father. Hae-Won is a kind woman and she always attempts to treat you with kindness.

Dinner continues with a blur. Your father has switched his attention back to your brother and his career. Standing up, walking outside desperately needing fresh air and escape from constant judgment. Your brother walks outside with his car keys in his hand.

“Sorry that was so rough,” he finally speaks.

Shoving your hands in your jeans pockets you try to act like you aren’t fazed by their constant judgment.

“Joshua, that was like every single dinner we have,” looking down at your feet you sigh.

“YN, I’m sorry I’m not there for mom,” he reaches his hand out resting it on your shoulder.

“You’re married now, Rosie needs you.”

Your brother being married had nothing to do with him not helping mom. The moment Joshua went to university he found his escape from the life you were now trapped in. If it wasn’t for you your mother would lose her mind. Your grandmother's Alzheimer's started getting bad while you were in high school, and proceeded to get worse while you were in your first year of university. Your mother’s mental breakdown during the summer after your first year pushed you to drop out to help out at home.

“Did you need a ride home?” your brother asks.

Silently you nod.

The ride was filled with awkward conversation. You and your brother used to be close. When he was at home you used to be best friends. He quickly found a life away from you and your mother. You can’t blame him though. If you were given the chance to run away from all this you in a heartbeat. You dreamed of a life away from yours. You want a life when you don't struggle to get by. You want a life that doesn't feel completely trapped. You desperately want to go back to school and get your degree, but it’s just not an option.

Pulling into the drive of your family home Joshua puts the car in park, but doesn’t turn it off. You want to ask if he’s gonna go inside to see mom, but you know the answer.

“You should come over to have dinner with Rosie and I.” He’s always trying to get you to be closer with his wife.

“Okay,” you say, getting out of the car. Glancing back at your brother while shutting the door you see him wearing a sad smile. You wished things between you and your brother weren’t so strained.

Walking inside you find your mother sitting in the living room talking to your grandmother.

“Hi,” you stop and wave at them.

“Are you my granddaughter?” Your grandmother asks, looking at you.

Your stomach drops and you put on your best fake smile you can possibly muster and nod your head. It never gets any easier. The feeling of her not remembering you feels like a dagger slowly being pushed into your chest. You think back constantly to the days where your grandmother was your favorite person. Back to the days when your parents would fight and your grandmother would come and pick you up and take you out to get ice cream. All the sweet memories you used to share have slowly started drifting away. You can’t help but feel mad that you’re watching one of the people you love most in the world drift away. You’re not nearly as patient with her as you’ve been in the past. You curse yourself each time you give the slightest attitude answering the same question for the hundredth time. It’s hard to explain the way you feel. In the earlier stages when you first dropped out of school you used to sit for hours with your mother keeping her company as she watched her mother, but as the more time has passed its grown more difficult to sit there. These days your grandmother could barely maintain a conversation, and most of her questions were about sore subjects. She often asks your mother where her husband is. Or asked if you were married. Your dating life in itself was a touchy subject. You had zero desire to bring someone into your life. You were trapped enough that nobody deserved to be dragged into this life.

“How was dinner?” Your mother asked, standing up.

“Fine,” you lied, turning on your heels and heading down the hallway towards your room.

Shutting the door press your back against the door and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your phone to see a text from Felix. It simply read “come over to mine and Jisung’s for drinks at eight.”

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you saw it was already eight thirty. You already had a rough night. You should probably take a hot shower and call it a night. Holding your phone up you stared at his text for a solid moment before you simply responded, “be there soon.”

Opening your door walking back into the living room you find your grandma sitting alone. Walking into the small kitchen you find your mom pouring herself a large glass of wine.

“Did you need my help tonight?” You prayed she would say no. You needed a night with your friends especially after your dinner with your dad.

“Where are you going?”

“Felix invited me over for drinks,” you give her a small smile.

“I’m assuming your father was in one of his moods,” she brings the red wine up her lips and takes a big gulp.

“I’m nothing more than disappointment, especially when I’m next to the shining star known as Joshua,” you sound bitter, but you can’t help it. You would be lying to yourself if you said you aren’t jealous of your younger brother.

“You’re not a disappointment,” your mother states.

“Dad thinks I am,” you don’t want to talk about it anymore. This subject just makes you feel even worse.

“Your father's opinion doesn’t matter.” You wish that was true, but for some reason your father’s opinion felt like everything to you. You’ve lived your whole life wanting nothing more than your father's approval.

“Go have fun with your friends.”

Stepping outside you're greeted by the cold autumn air. You choose to walk to the boys place. It’s only a ten minute walk, and you know the walk will give you time to clear your head. You need this time to push away the feeling of disappointment and sadness.

Walking up to the door you knock and step back. It takes all of thirty seconds before Jisung opens the door and pulls you inside. Looking around. In the apartment you see a small group of friends. It’s Felix, Jisung and their six guy friends and three girls. You recognize the blonde girl Soomin as the girl Seungmin has been trying to hook up with.

“Drinks are in the kitchen,” Jisung says.

Nodding you walk into the kitchen. In the small white kitchen you find Chan talking to Felix. Felix wastes no time reaching forward pulling you into a hug.

Pulling away, Felix holds your shoulders and looks at you with his eyebrows knit together. “Why are you so tense?”

“I had dinner with my father and Joshua.”

“Is your father still acting the same?” Felix is one of the few people who know your whole situation with your family. Not even Jisung, who you’re just as close to, knows about your whole family situation.

“Yeah,” you sigh, glancing over at Chan who looks at you like he’s studying you.

“Did you want something to drink?” Chan asked.

Felix removes his hands from you. He smiles over at Chan and says, “make the girl something strong she really needs it.”

Felix walks out of the room leaving you alone with Chan. Things with Chan have always been easy. He’s someone who is kind and easy to make conversation with. You’ve grown closer to him over the last couple months. He’s an old high school friend of Felix. Out of all your friends he seems to by far have his life the most together. He works at a bank in a high up position and even has his own apartment. You’ve watched enough women at bars attempt to capture his attention, but the thing about Chan is he doesn’t seem to want theirs. He’s always seemed so driven by work you’ve never even heard of him dating anyone.

Handing you a red cup he captures your attention, “it’s pretty strong.”

“Is everything okay?”

You take a sip of the strong drink and look up at him with hooded eyes. Shrugging your shoulders you aren’t even sure how to respond to that question. Technically everything is okay, nothing has changed. You feel the exact same way you’ve always felt. You’re just doing a terrible job at hiding it. Normally you pride yourself on trying to hide away all your problems that seem to be eating away at you.

“Rough day,” you sigh.

He leans back against the counter and looks at you. You can’t help but let your eyes travel across his body. Chan is very handsome and you aren’t really sure why some girl hasn’t been able to lock him down. He stands there oh so casually dressed jeans and button up shirt.

“You know you can talk to me right? I know Felix is the only one you fully let in, but I like to think we’re friends too. If you need someone to vent to, I'm here to listen.”

“I don’t need to burden someone else with all my problems.”

Chan is one of the kindest and most caring people that you’ve ever met. He’s always been like the father figure of your group of friends. You’ve seen your friends pull him aside to talk to him when they’re having problems. He’s being honest with you when he tells you he’s there to listen to you. He won't judge you for whatever you’re going through.

“You know you aren’t a burden to anyone right? You’re friends with me and all the boys. We’re all here to support you. We just want to help.”

You wished it was that easy that you could just talk about your problems and it would help them go away. You could scream from the rooftop that you’re tired of feeling like a disappointment, but it wouldn’t make the feeling go away. You could scream that you’re tired of being trapped in a life that you didn’t choose, but at the

end of the day you’ll still have to go home. Your mother is still in desperate need of your help. You couldn’t just walk away from your family, like your brother did. You know your brother didn’t leave to hurt you, but it didn’t dull the pain anymore.

“I’m okay Chan. Thank you for your offer though.”

“Come sit on the patio with me,” he says.

You aren’t sure why he wants you to go outside with him, but nod your head and follow him. He slides the glass door open that’s connected to the kitchen. You step outside and he closes the door behind you. The chilly night air feels nice against your skin as you take a seat in one of the two chairs that are sitting in front of a glass table. Chan sits next to you, placing his cup on the table. You look at the cup curious to know what he’s drinking. It’s rare that you ever see him drink. He’s the one who is always the designated driver or the one in charge of looking after your friends who tend to get a little too rambunctious when they drink.

“What are you drinking?” You ask.

“Water,” he lets out a soft chuckle. You can’t help but shake your head. It was rare you ever saw him eat or drink something that isn’t healthy.

“Did you have work today?” You attempt to make small talk with him to avoid talking about things that are too personal.

“Yeah I worked until five.”

Chan was one of the higher ups at a bank in the city. He tended to wear a suit for a living and work nine to five. He probably had his life the most together out of all your friends he followed the path he always planned on following. Your friends all had their lives together, but they all still liked to party and let loose. Sure Minho and Hyunjin were making good money working as dancers but their job wasn’t always super steady. Felix and Jeongin both worked for a tech company that just started up. Seungmin is a teacher. Jisung also worked as a publisher, and Changbin was working as sound technician at a record label. Literally all your friends have their lives more together than you. You dropped out of college to help at home, and you work a retail job barely getting by.

“Did you work today?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no I had to ask for the day off to see my dad.” You tense up just mentioning your dad. You don’t mean to, it’s just a force of habit.

“You didn’t want to come over tonight did you?” He asks as he brings his cup up to his lips. He takes a drink and watches you.

You weren’t sure if you should answer him honestly. Part of you wanted to stay home and take a shower and just attempt to push away the negative thoughts that seem to be eating away at you. You only came over to escape the trapped feeling of being at home.

“I need to get out of my house,” a heavy sigh passes your lips.

“Are you okay?” He reaches over and rests his warm hand on top of yours. There’s something comforting about his touch.

An almost sarcastic laugh passes your lips, “my grandma didn’t know who I was when I came home today.”

His eyes grow wide as he stares at you. He purses his lips together as he stares at you attempting to figure out what he should say to you. He knows that he can’t say sorry to hear that. He knows nobody fully understands what you’re going through. He only knows about your grandma because Felix told him one day. Felix was worried about you because he hadn’t heard from you in two days. In a panic Felix let him know about the stress you were under at home. Felix swore him to secrecy telling him that you couldn’t know that he knows. That you didn’t want everyone knowing about your problems.

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m really sorry you have to go through that. That must be heartbreaking to experience,” his hand remains on yours as his dark eyes stay on you.

Closing your eyes you push back your tears that are trying so hard to fall. You’ve had a rough day and you don’t want to cry, but the overwhelming weight of the world seems to be resting on your shoulders.

“It fucking sucks,” you shake your head.

“Well my offer still stands if you ever need to talk about it. I'm here for you. You also know that Felix and Jisung would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Felix constantly told you that he was there for you. You couldn’t even count the number of times Felix came over to your house and just laid in bed with you listening to you cry about your problems. Felix is your rock. He’s been there through hell and back holding your hand. Jisung would also be there for you if you would fully let him in. He knows details of your problems, but he’s not the one you call when you’re crying.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You need to know if he’s doing this just because he is pitying you.

“Because you’re a good person, and you don’t need to feel alone,” his thumb brushes across your skin in a calming motion.

“I don’t feel alone. I have Felix,” it was a lie. You felt lonely all the time. You couldn’t seem to fill the empty hole in your chest.

“You can have more people than just Felix that care about you. All seven of those guys in the house care about you. I even care about you. I can see that you’re hurting, and you can put on a fake smile and try to act happy in front of all of us, but you don’t have to. You’re allowed to be sad, and if someone or something is hurting you, you don’t have to turn off those emotions,” his voice is so calming as he speaks to you. He’s saying things to you that you’ve been needing to hear for a long time. Some of the things he’s saying Felix has said to you as well, but for some reason they just feel different coming from Chan.

“I don’t want to be fake happy anymore.” You wanted nothing more in the world to feel real happiness. You wanted that feeling of being a disappointment to fade away.

“Let more people in then.”

The air between you feels thick as you stare at each other. There’s something between you and you can’t seem to put your finger on it.

“What happens if I let you in?” You take a deep breath keeping your eyes locked on him.

“Then I’ll be there for you. I can be there for you just like Felix.”

“You’ll get tired of hearing about my problems.” You knew Felix was probably tired of listening to you cry.

“Believe me I won’t.”

Looking away from his intense gaze, you need to step away from this. This all feels too overwhelming. Chan removes his hand from the top of yours, noticing your change in demeanor.

“I need some water,” you quickly stand up.

He walks over and opens the sliding door holding it open for you. You walk inside heading straight to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. He stands in the kitchen watching you.

“I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you,” he walks closer to you.

“I had a weird day. This isn’t because of you,” you don’t want him to know that you were freaking over letting your walls down around him.

You stand there alone for a long moment. Seungmin walks in letting his presence be known singing a random song loudly. Your eyes snap over to your loud friend hoping he will relieve some of the tension that has formed between you and Chan.

Seungmin’s eyes bounce between the two of you, stopping right by both of you. “YN you’re so tense when was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin speaks, putting his hand on your shoulders and shaking you. Seungmin has never been the best at using the filter between his brain and his mouth. Your cheek burn with embarrassment as your eyes bounce between Seungmin and Chan. Chan is wearing an apologetic look while Seungmin looks all too proud that he’s embarrassed you.

“Seungmin you don’t get to ask me that,” you practically shout, feeling utterly embarrassed. You didn’t want to discuss your sex life with Seungmin of all people. He’s got by far the biggest mouth out of all your friends.

“It’s been awhile if you won’t answer,” he barks out a laugh and looks toward Chan who is blushing. “Chan you also look super tense. When was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin has realized that he can make both of you feel incredibly awkward with zero effort. One of Seungmin 's favorite pastimes is embarrassing his friends.

“Seungmin, knock it off,” Chan responded, completely deadpan.

“Maybe you two should have sex and you can both relax for once,” Seungmin smiles, stepping away from you.

“Well that was beyond awkward,” you respond.

“I mean maybe you two should bang. Maybe both of you could actually have fun for once,” was the last thing he said before walking out of the kitchen.

You’re left standing there with just Chan who seems to be having an issue with making eye contact with you. Pushing your lips together you look at him attempting to even figure out what exactly you should say. Seungmin wasn’t wrong about you probably need to have sex. You’d been so stressed you couldn’t even remember the last time you were intimate with someone. Hell the last time you kissed someone was Felix during a drunken game of truth or dare on his birthday. During that drunken mess of a night you were dared to either kiss him or Seungmin and Felix was the safe bet being your best friend.

Chan nervously scratches his neck and looks up at you finally.

“I take it’s been a while for you too?” He finally speaks.

Talking about sex has always made you feel slightly awkward. You’ve never been a person who would openly share details of your sex life.

“Yeah probably too long,” sighing as you lean against the counter across from Chan.

“If it makes you feel any better I’m in the same boat. It’s been a while.”

You aren’t sure what possessive you to say it but without thinking you say, “maybe Seungmin right, maybe I do need to have sex. I’ve been so stressed with everything.”

Chan cocks his eyebrow and stares at you looking caught off guard. He audibly swallows, not expecting you to agree with his younger friend. In the whole time he’s known you, Chan doesn’t think he’s ever heard you mention anything to do with sex. You had this air of innocence to you. He was well aware you weren’t a virgin, he’s heard you talk about your ex who strung you along off and on for six years. There was just something so innocent about you that the topic of sex made you blush and feel awkward.

“Who would you sleep with?” he’s not sure why he asks. He knows damn well it’s none of his business. He knows no matter who you say he’s not going to like the answer. He doesn’t like the idea of you sleeping with anyone.

Shrugging your shoulder you realize you don’t exactly have men lining up the block to have sex with you. You could try those dating apps people use to hook up, or maybe a friend. You trusted all the boys but you knew certain ones would complicate your life. Felix specifically was off limits, he’s your best friend and you couldn’t do anything to ruin that. Changbin crosses your mind for a small moment. He’s extremely handsome and charming and has even flirted with you before.

“I don’t know,” you finally respond.

As Chan watches you can tell you seem to have a million things going through your mind. He wants to offer up his services but he’s not exactly sure how you would take his offer. He couldn’t lie to himself, he's always been attracted to you, and he’s enjoyed getting to know you. He also appreciates that you seem to be letting your walls down around him.

“If I ask you something can you promise not to slap me?”

You nod not exactly sure what he could possibly ask you.

“Would you be willing to have sex with me?” His heart races as he stares at you trying his hardest to judge your reaction.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. You aren’t even sure if you heard him correctly. Bang Chan is one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on. He’s also got the body of a Greek god, and he just asked if you would be willing to have sex with him. You blink a handful of times attempting to process his question.

“You want to have sex with me?” you blurt out.

He nods and gives you an innocent smile, “yeah.”

“Oh,” you stammer over that simple word. Your mind is still trying to process that Chan actually wants you.

He pushes himself off the counter and looks at you with a guilt ridden face, “you can totally say no. I’m sorry for making this weird.”

He looks cute and completely flustered. Reaching you rest your hand on his arm, “if you’re sure you want to. I would like to relieve some stress with you.”

“Oh,” he opened his mouth and stared at you, completely shocked that you agreed. He didn’t actually have a plan of action if you agreed. He thought for sure you were going to shut him down without even thinking twice.

“Did you want to do it tonight?” You felt so weird asking him if he wanted to leave to have sex. This whole situation was completely uncharted for you.

He nods and gives you an awkward smile, “yeah we can go to my place if you want.”

“Can we please head out now?” You want to leave as soon as you can. You know you should stay and talk to Felix some more, but he seems to be giving you space to talk to Chan.

“Yeah I can drive us.”

“Let me say goodbye to Felix.”

You walk off to the living room where you find your best friend talking to Jeongin. You tap his shoulder and he turns to face you.

“Chan is gonna take me home.” You decide to spare the details that you’re leaving with him to have sex. You know out of all your friends Felix won’t judge you, but he might be concerned about your feelings.

Leaning forward he pulls you into a tight hug and presses his lips to the top of your head before whispering that he’ll see you tomorrow.

You wave goodbye to the rest of the group before meeting Chan at the door. He holds the door open and as soon as it shuts behind him he ever so slowly reaches down, taking your hand in his. A spark goes across your skin as he holds your hand tight. He leads you down to the parking garage below the building and holds your door open as you slide inside. He gets in and starts the car. He turns the radio on to give you some background noise.

You drive in silent with nothing but the hum of the radio for five minutes before you break the silence between you.

You clear your throat catching his attention. He glances over at you and gives you a soft smile.

“So, I’ve never done anything like this. Like I’ve had sex outside of a relationship, but never with a friend,” you’re rambling but you really can’t help it.

“I haven’t either,” he reaches over resting his hand on your thigh.

“So we’re both nervous?” You look over at him trying to read his expression.

“Yeah I’m nervous too.” It’s reassuring to know he feels the same way you do.

Pulling into the parking garage. He shuts the car off and gives you a smile before getting out of the car. You take a deep breath before unbuckling your seatbelt. Hoping out of his car you find home waiting for you with your hand out. You lace your fingers with his without giving it a second thought.

Chan felt like a nervous teenager as he held your hand. This whole situation was something he’s never done before. He has a million thoughts going through his mind as he holds your hand leading you towards his apartment. He has one mission tonight, and that’s to make you forget your problems for a little while. He wants to make you feel good and to relieve all the stress that’s built up.

Entering his apartment he releases your hand as he gives you a minute to look around and take in your surroundings. You’ve only been to his place twice and both times you were with Felix and you weren’t there very long. His apartment is pretty large and has a minimalist aesthetic to it. You’ve heard Chan talk about how much he hates decorating. Stopping in his living room in front of his black leather couch. Chan follows you into the living room. Staring at you, he takes a deep breath. You’ve never done this before. You’ve never agreed to just have casual sex with a friend. You fidget with the bottom of your sweater. You’re not sure who is supposed to make the first move. How exactly was this supposed to work?

“We don’t have to do this,” he says awkwardly. He can’t tell how nervous you are.

“I want this. I haven’t had sex in too long and I feel like it will help relieve some stress.”

He steps closer to you. He hesitates for a moment before pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s been pretty long for me too.”

“You know you have girls always trying to get with you right?” You try not to laugh thinking about all the girls who attempt to flirt with him. You’ve seen too many girls attempt to get his attention when you go out with your friends.

Shrugging he says, “I don’t feel like having sex with random girls.”

You can’t seem to ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach that’s bubbling. Looking up at Chan you notice his cheeks are flushed slightly. He must be as nervous as you. This whole situation is so strange, never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be going over to Chan to have sex with him. The fact that Seungmin dumb comment about you needing to get laid led to you riding over to Chan apartment is crazy.

“How do we even start this?” you felt like an awkward teen about to lose your virginity.

“We could start by kissing,” he steps closer to you.

Nodding your head you agree that kissing would be a good place to start this. Maybe that would help calm your nerves.

He rests his hand on your cheek ever so gently and stares into your eyes. He licks his bottom lip before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. A warm feeling spread through your body as your lips moved together. One of his hands stayed on your cheek while the other gripped your hip holding you close. The whole time your lips moved together you couldn’t help but overthink everything. You were enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you wondered if he was enjoying it too.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “stop over thinking everything.”

Your eyes snap open and you step back from him. You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure of what to even say.

“Stop overthinking everything. Just let go and enjoy yourself. I’m going to make it my mission to force you to relax tonight,” he leans in to press his lips to your jaw. He places a trail of gentle nips across your skin.

“Okay.”

He presses his lips to yours again and you relax against his touch. His hands run up and down your sides as your lips dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him close to you. Opening your mouth he slides his tongue against yours.

He pulls away wearing a smile. His hands reach for the end of your sweater. He pauses while he waits for your consent. You nod your head silently.

He removes all your clothes leaving you naked in front of him. You stand there watching as he removes his own clothes.

His body is something to be admired. He has probably the best abs you’ve ever seen. Without even thinking you lean forward and run your fingers across his tone stomach. He watches you intently. He wants this whole night to be about helping you find a release. He wants you to enjoy yourself.

Silently he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands run up your thighs. He moves your thighs so he’s sitting between your legs. His eyes are locked on your already wet core. He’s managed to get you worked up with just the idea of what is going to happen and by the heated kiss you shared.

He runs two fingers through your folds as he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. You whimper in anticipation. His thumb brushes your clit for a moment before he moves his fingers to your entrance. He thrust his finger into your tight wall. His tongue laps at your clit as he pumps one finger inside you.

“You’re so tight,” he groans against your core. He dips another finger in you helping stretch you out. He curls his fingers inside you, touching just the right area. You tangle your fingers in his hair. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. You’re so close to finding your release.

“Chh… Chan I’m so… close,” you’re a complete whimpering mess.

He picks up his pace knowing you’re so close. He doesn’t stop until you find your release. The warm wave washes over you. You cry out his name loudly. He pulls away sitting on his hunches looking up at you with a proud smile.

“That was amazing,” you say with your chest rising and falling quickly.

He stands up and leans forward to kiss you. You taste yourself on your lips and you can’t lie it turns you on. Your eyes travel down his body to see that he’s already extremely hard and you haven’t even touched him.

“Let me get a condom.”

He jogs off to his bedroom and comes back rolling the rubber down his hardened length. He stops in front of you and leans in for another kiss. You wished that all those months ago you would have dared to kiss him. You can’t believe you’ve gone this far in your life never knowing the feel of Chan’s lips against yours.

“Can you bend over the back of the couch?” He pulls away asking.

You nod and look over at the leather couch. You follow his lead and walk over to the couch. Bending you over the couch he kissed down your spine. His hand grip your hips tightly. You take a deep breath and look over at your shoulder to see his lust filled eyes staring at you.

“Are you ready?” He grinds his hips against yours slowly.

“Yeah.”

He slides his length between your folds before pushing into you extremely slowly. His hands never leave your hips as he pushes his way in. The feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. You grip the back of the couch as a gasp passes your lips. He stills is giving you time to adjust.

His chest is rising and falling as he tries to remain calm. “You’re really tight,'' he says with baited breath.

It’s probably been too long since you had sex and you know you need to relax more. “Spread your legs a little,” he puts his foot next to one of yours and gently nudges it. You silently follow his command. One of his hands leaves your hips and he slowly drags it down your spine. His touch feels like electricity running through your veins.

“Sweetheart just relax,” his voice is low and calming.

Taking a deep breath you try your hardest to relax. Sex is supposed to be fun. You aren’t supposed to stress about the problems in your life while probably the most handsome man you’ll ever meet is literally inside you. You nod your head and rest your face against the cool leather sofa.

His hand slowly rubs your back helping you relax. “Did you want to stop? I’m not going to be upset if you want to walk now or at any time during this.”

Lifting your head you look over your shoulder with a shocked look on your face. “I want this. I’m trying to stop overthinking everything,” you explained.

“Can I move?”

“Yes please.”

He leans forward kissing your shoulder before he pulls his hips back. Be pushed back into you, setting a slow pace. With each thrust he fills you completely. You can’t help the low whimpers that pass your lips with each roll of his hips.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin, and his low moans, and your soft whimpers. His hands are back to gripping your hips. Everytime he thrust into you, he pushed away the thoughts of the outside world. You try your hardest to get lost in his touch. His pace picks up slowly. His grip on you never falters. Your name has never sounded as beautiful as it does being moaned by him. Dropping your face into the couch you moan his name.

He leans over your body, having one of his hands at your core. His fingers quickly find your swollen bundle of nerves. He brushes it quickly as he’s helping you chase your release.

“Chan,” you whine.

Wet kisses are being placed across the back of your neck. You can’t hold your eyes open, the feeling of the coil in your stomach tightens, almost becoming too much to handle.

He snaps his hips into yours over and over again. You aren’t exactly sure how long you’ve been pushed up against this couch, but you won’t complain. Nobody has ever made you feel the way Chan is. He seems to know exactly how your body ticks. His fingers don’t leave your clit as he whispers encouraging words into your ear.

“Sweetheart, you can go ahead and cum for me.”

You’ve never wanted to come so badly in your life. Pushing your hips up angling them just right Chan is hitting a new area that causes a loud gasp to pass your lips.

“Chan,” you whimper, reaching back for his hand. You need to hold on to him desperately as you’re so close to finding your release.

“I want to see you when you come, pretty,” he says, stalling in you.

Your eyes grow wide confused on why he’s stopped moving. He pulls out of you and reaches out for you. He picks you up and places you on the couch. Laying there on his couch you watch as he moves so he’s hovering over you. He settles between your legs and pushes into you.

“You’re so pretty. I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” his sweet words.

“Chan,” you whimper.

One hand grips his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair. His nose is resting on yours. His pretty lips are parted and low moans pass his lips.

“Kiss me,” you say. You desperately want to feel his lips on yours. His lips crashed against your. The kiss is sloppy and lust filled but you can’t seem to get enough.

Your legs wrap around his waist holding him close. His thrust have slowed as your lips move together.

“Just let go,” he says with his lips ghosting yours.

His command is all that it takes to push you over the edge. The warmth spreads throughout your body as your walls pull on him. You moan into his lips. Your body feels like a live wire. He rolls his hips into you over and over before finally finding his own release.

He stills with his chest rising and falling. He leans forward pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around his back holding him close as he lays on top of you for a moment. His body weight gives you a sense of comfort. Laying there with Chan in your arms this is the most relaxed you’ve felt in a long time.

He lifts himself up and looks down at you. He pushes away your hair that’s stuck to your face.

“Sorry if I was crushing you.”

A soft laugh passes your lips. He’s so sweet and even post sex he’s still so caring.

“You aren’t crushing me,” you reach up resting your hand on his strong jaw.

He pulls away from you and stands up. You can’t help but watch his naked body walk away to toss his used condom. He comes back to you not even seeming slightly embarrassed that he’s strutting around naked. That probably has to do with his beautiful body, and his amazing abs.

Sitting up you pull your legs into your chest feeling suddenly weird that you're just sitting on the couch completely naked. He sits down on the couch next to you and rests his hand on your knee. He smiles before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours for a sweet kiss. It was the exact opposit of the last lust fueled kiss you shared.

“You’re so pretty,” he rested his nose against yours.

“Chan, thank you.”

“Did you enjoy it,” you couldn’t believe that he was asking if you just enjoyed the best sex you’ve ever experienced.

You let out a little laugh and nod your head.

“Is it awkward if I ask you to stay the night? I don’t see this as a onel night stand type thing. I would like to spend more time with you.”

He’s a little nervous that you will say no. Chan wants to get to know you even more. He wants you to let your walls down around him. He also just wants your company.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” You couldn’t believe he was asking you to stay.

“Yeah of course I want you to stay.”

Neither of you bother to put any clothes on. Chan takes your hand and leads you off to his room. His bedroom is somewhere you’ve never seen before. The walls are a bright white and he has a queen size bed under a window that looks out onto the city. He pulls his curtains closed not seeming to care that he’s naked. You crawl onto his bed and pull the blankets back. He lays down next to you and wastes no time pulling you close to his body. Your head rests on his chest as he holds you close. In all your life you had only slept in a man's bed a handful of times. All your ex boyfriends and flames never seemed to hold you like Chan is though.

“Did that help relieve some of your stress?” he asked softly.

“Yeah it did.”

Just being around Chan seems to relax you. This is the first time in the longest time you feel at ease. You aren’t worried about everything going on. You know tomorrow will be a stressful day when your mom asks about where you were overnight, but right now you don’t have to worry about that.

“Thank you for tonight.”

“I told you I want to be here for you, and I’ll be here for you mentally and physically,” his hand rubs your side. “I have tomorrow off. Did you maybe want to get lunch together and hang out?”

You literally spent the whole time you were at Felix’s together and then left with him to have sex. Chan seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you can’t complain. It feels nice to finally be wanted.

“I’ll have to go home and change and check in with my mom, but yeah I’ll get lunch with you.”

A night spent in Chan’s arms is one of the best night's sleep you've gotten in a long time.

Bright morning light shining through the thin curtains woke you up. A yawn passes your lips as you stretch out your sore body. The bed feels cold next to you. You look over to see Chan isn’t in bed. A panicked feeling starts in your chest. Maybe this was a sign that he wanted you to leave. Hoping out of bed quickly you look around the room realizing you walked into his room naked. Looking on the dresser you see a pile of your clothes neatly folded. Chan must have gathered your clothes this morning. Walking towards the dresser you see the master bathroom door is shut with the light peaking out from the bottom. You aren’t sure if Chan is in there but you don’t want to find out. You quickly put your bra and underwear on. As you start pulling on your legging the bathroom door opens and Chan walks out a pair of boxer briefs while he runs a towel through his damp hair. The moment his eyes lock on you, you completely freeze like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Why do you look like you’re running away?” He asks, tossing his towel in the hamper next to the door.

“I thought you would want me to leave,” you say awkwardly.

“Why would I want you to leave?” Chan doesn’t understand what he did or said that could possibly make you think he wanted you to leave.

“I don’t know.”

“I planned on us grabbing lunch. I actually wanted to spend more time with you.” He wasn’t lying to you yesterday when he said he wanted to be there for you.

“Oh,” you’re caught off guard by him actually wanting to spend time with you.

He steps towards you stopping right in front of you. He places his hand right under your chin lifting it so you’re looking into his dark eyes. He licks his bottom lip before saying, “you can relax around me. You don’t have to try to act happy. Let your walls down and try to trust me.” He so desperately wants for you to trust him like you do Felix.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure of what to say to him. Leaning down he presses his lips softly to your forehead.

“Did you maybe want some coffee before you run away from me?”

You nod your head silently.

Stepping away from you Chan reaches into his dresser and pulls out a pair of jeans and pulls them on. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on. You take this time to pull back on your sweater so you aren’t standing around in your bra and a pair of leggings. He takes your hand ever so casually and leads you out into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile that he’s already made coffee.

Reaching into the cupboard he pulls out two coffee cups. He sits down on the counter in front of you. He walks over to the fridge pulling out a carton of cream. Handing it to you, you pour a little into your coffee before handing it back.

There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sip on your coffee. There’s something about being around Chan that’s comforting.

Holding his cup close to his chest he watches you carefully. You seem more at ease and it makes him happy.

“What do you want for lunch?” he asks.

“How does ramen sound?” you ask, knowing there are a million places near to get good ramen.

“Sounds good to me.”

After finishing your cup of coffee you follow Chan back to his room so he can get dressed. Sitting on his bed you scroll through your phone to see a text from your mom and one from Felix.

Your moms text read, “I’m assuming you stayed at Felix.”

While Felix read, “were you okay after last night?” Your best friend knows you well and could tell that you had a rough day.

You send him a quick message saying that you’re okay that talking to Chan helped a lot.

Chan stood in front of you in a sweater with his tight jeans and pair of vans. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Once again he takes your hand leading you out of his apartment.

Standing in front of his motorcycle you’re at a loss for words. You were well aware he owned a motorcycle, but you hadn’t ever ridden on it. He holds his spare helmet out for you sporting a grin.

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle,” you say.

“Are you okay if we take this?” He’s unsure if this is a good idea. You seem so unsure staring at his motorcycle.

“Okay we can take this,” you reach out to take the helmet. He steps closer to you and helps up on your helmet and buckles it.

He gets on the motorcycle and reaches his hand out signaling for him to join him. Climbing on you wastes no time wrapping your arms around him. He starts the bike and heads out onto the main road. You hold on to him tightly.

There’s something about the way you hold him that makes his heart flutter a little. For the longest he wished he could gain your trust. He couldn’t help but be jealous of your friendship you shared with Felix. Sure you and Chan had always been friends, but you always had a wall up around him. You never fully let anyone in other than Felix.

Pulling up to your house, shut the motorcycle off and you quickly climb off.

“Did you want me to wait here?” Chan asks.

Your stomach twists at the idea of having to explain to your grandma who Chan is.

“Yes please if you don’t mind. My grandmother isn’t great with people she doesn’t know.”

“Okay that’s fine. I’ll be here, take your time,” he takes the helmet you had been wearing.

Rushing into the house you find your mom standing in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.

“YN are you okay?” She asks, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Yeah.”

She knits her eyebrows together, studying you, “why are you rushing.”

“My friend is taking me out to lunch,” you say.

“Who?” She’s being nosy like she normally is.

“Chan.”

Her eyebrow raises as she slowly smiles, “the handsome man that works at the bank?”

Of course your mom remembers Chan's job, and that he’s attractive.

“Yes.”

“Well have fun,” she smiles before taking another sip of her coffee.

Rushing off to your room you start stripping away your clothes. You toss your dirty clothes in your hamper before grabbing a pair of jeans and tugging them on. Reaching into your dresser you pull out a black and white sweater. Heading off to the bathroom you brush your teeth and wash your face.

You practically run out of the house attempting to avoid your mom. Walking outside you find Chan leaning against his motorcycle scrolling through his phone.

He looks up and smiles at you. Handing you a helmet you put it on and he helps you buckle it.

Crawling onto the back of the bike you wrap your arms around him holding your body close to his. He starts driving down the street and you suddenly feel so relaxed as you hold him. There’s something about him that is just so comforting to you.

Arriving at one of your favorite ramen places Chan turns off his bike and he helps you off. He takes your hand immediately. Chan knows you’re shy and a little more guarded, but he doesn’t give you a chance to put up a wall. He holds your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.

Walking up to the table he holds out your chair for you. This suddenly feels like a date and you get a nervous feeling in your stomach. You aren’t sure why you get so nervous at the thought of being on a date with Chan. He’s literally the most perfect man you’ve ever met, and you’ve already had sex with him. Yet you can’t seem to push away this nervous feeling.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” you ask after ordering.

Tilting his head he knits his eyebrows together, “because I like spending time with you. I know it seems like it’s coming out of left field, but YN I like you.”

You can’t believe he just said he liked you. You blink rapidly and just stare at them. How do you even respond to him?

“You like me?”

A half smile forms on his lips, “you’re a beautiful girl, you’re kind, and you have an amazing heart.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not asking you to suddenly be my girlfriend. I want to spend time with you, I want to be your friend. I want to be someone you feel like you can trust enough to talk to about the things you’re going through,” reaching out he takes your hand in his. He rubs his thumb across the palm of your hand. His touch instantly relaxed you.

“Chan, I'm a mess. I’m not easy to be with. I feel bad Felix has to deal with me half the time.”

He squeezes your hand gently, “stop, I’m not asking you to give me anything here. I’ll just be your friend if anything, but I want you to know how I feel.”

Before you can say anything the waiter walks over and puts your bowls of ramen on the table in front of you.

Staring at the steaming bowl of soup you’re still trying to process everything Chan just said to you.

“Please say something,” he says.

“I want to get to know you more. I also want to spend more time with you.”

A large smile spreads across his face as he grabs a pair of chopsticks.

He spends the rest of lunch answering questions about himself. In the last twenty-four hours you’ve talked about yourself enough. You want to know more about the man who seems extremely interested in spending more time with you.

When the waiter brings over the check Chan hands him this card without even looking at the check. You tell him thank you. You didn’t expect him to pay for you.

Arriving at your house you hop off the bike, and before you can walk away Chan reaches out and grabs your wrist. He turns you so you're facing him. He raises his eyebrow and tugs you closer to him.

“I’m serious about wanting to spend time with you,” he knows he is putting himself on the line right now, but he knows he needs to. “Please give me a shot here. Let me be there for you.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans in close to you and presses his lips to your cheek for a soft kiss. You can help but smile as he pulls away.

“I’ll text you.”

He rides off and you’re left with your head feeling as if it’s swimming. The overwhelming feeling that he’s interested in you makes your head spin. You aren’t sure why anyone as perfect as him could be interested in you.

Everything’s a blur as you walk into your room you lay down staring at the ceiling. Chan sweet words play over and over in your ears. Closing your eyes you could picture his soft smile.

You aren’t sure how long you were laying there when your door opened. Looking at the door you find Felix standing in your room.

Throwing himself onto your queen size bed you can’t help but smile at Felix. His eyes are narrowed in on you.

“So what’s going on with Chan?” He didn’t bother asking anything else. He just jumped straight to the point.

Glancing at him from the corners of your eyes you find him staring at you.

“Nothing,” you lied. There was clearing something going on with Chan, but you just weren’t exactly sure.

“Then why didn’t you come home last night?” He smirks at you. It’s extremely clear he knows you were with Chan.

“Lee Felix, what do you know?” Sitting up quickly you grab a pillow holding it on your lap.

“Well your mother asked me when I walked in how our sleepover was. Like we’re teenagers again.”

Your eyes grow wide at the fact your mother asked Felix about you staying over.

“Please tell me you lied to her.”

He reaches up grabbing the pillow from your lap, “of course I lied.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you stay at Chan last night?”

Biting your lip you contemplate lying. You don’t want him asking details about what happened, but you can’t lie to him.

“Yeah I stayed with him.”

“What happened there?” he sits up.

“Lix,” a heavy sigh passes your lips. You know you can’t hide the details from him anymore.

“Just tell me. I’m not gonna judge you,” he’s sitting on your bed with his legs crossed.

“We had sex,” you sigh.

“I knew it,” he almost shouts.

Shaking your head you try to push away your embarrassment. You never shared anything about your sex life.

“How did that even happen?” Felix knew that you were friends, but he didn’t know that you were nearly close enough with Chan to have sex with him.

“We spent the whole night just talking and stupid Seungmin made comments about us needing to get laid and somehow it got us having sex to relieve some stress,” you ramble on quickly.

He stares at you blinking and processes your statement. A smile tugs on his lips. Felix knows that Chan is a good guy and he won’t do anything to hurt you.

“Please say something,” you say softly, pulling your legs into your chest.

“I think you should give Chan a chance. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m a mess,” your eyes start to tear up.

“Give him a chance,” he puts his hand on your knee and looks into your eyes.

“I’ll try,” you say softly.

You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on your bed with your best friend. You move away from the subject of Chan which you’re thankful for. Eventually Felix convinces you to watch a movie with him. Your mom peaks her head asking Felix to stay for dinner. Your mother has loved Felix from the moment you met. Anytime Felix comes over to your mom to ask him to stay for dinner. Your grandmother also seems to love him. Even though she can’t always remember his name. She does remember she loves him. He always sits on the couch and will talk to her and tell her cute jokes. There’s a reason you’ve let your walls down around Felix. He’s just always seemed to be there by your side. You hope soon you can let your walls down around Chan as well.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

#stray kids #my writing #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagine #rose colored boy #bang chan angst

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