#when your life falls apart over the course of six months

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

A lot can happen in six months (and yet nothing can change) (M)

Genre: Hallmark Christmas Romcom!core, Ex!Mingyu, angst, bad decisions are made and talked about, porn somewhere in here because of course

Warnings: Exes are exes, breakups are breakups and this writer doesn’t know what that’s all like, creampie, unprotected sex, switch?gyu, switch?yn, dub con

Summary: 

Six months ago you and Mingyu broke up and you weren’t sure exactly how to move on. Now, he was calling you all over again, as you to go on a non-refundable romantic Christmas weekend in New York City, and you know that you should say no... But how on Earth, does one say no to Kim Mingyu? 

-

All things in life happen for a reason. 

That’s what you told yourself like a mantra whenever you weren’t sure where your life was headed. When you were graduating high school and only got into one of your colleges, when your grandpa died and you had to fly out to your hometown for his funeral, even when you lost your job and spent five months unemployed unable to land a job despite your many qualifications. 

But the time that echoed the loudest through your brain, the time you depended on it the most was the time that you would live to hate for the rest of your life. 

“Walk out that door and we are through.” 

When you had made it to Chwe Hansol’s apartment door, you were sobbing and he had a girl hooked to his arm. 

In minutes, that girl was gone and you two were alone in his apartment, your head in his lap as you sobbed. 

“I don’t get it,” you stuttered through tears. “We were fine. And then he-“ 

You hiccuped but before you could say more the door was opening to the apartment. You looked over your shoulder to see a blurry image of short brown hair and tall slender legs. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Hansol said softly. “I invited Dasom over.” 

You turned back to Hansol shoving your face into his chest as the tears ran freely down your face. Of course, you didn’t mind Dasom being over. Out of everyone in your life Hansol and Dasom were your two favorites. They had been there for you since before Mingyu and you had ever even met. They knew all of the ups and downs of your relationship with him and everything. 

Never had you imagined that they would end up seeing the end of it. 

“What happened?” Dasom asked, a hand finding its way to your back. “Hansol just said that it was an emergency and I needed to come over.” 

You pulled out of Hansol’s chest, giving her what had to be an incredibly pathetic look. 

“We broke up-” 

This time instead of falling into Hansol, you fell against Dasom, burying your face into her neck. 

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Hansol said bluntly. You looked over at him, shooting him a glare. 

“Hey-“ 

“The world doesn’t end because you stop dating Kim Mingyu.” 

“I thought I was going to be with Kim Mingyu for the rest of my life,” you snapped back. “He was supposed to be my last relationship. My ride or die. The man I married.” 

“How did this even happen?” Dasom asked, still completely lost. You looked at her. 

“He thought I cheated on him.” 

“Which is stupid,” Hansol inserted. 

“Well, it wasn’t baseless!” You protested. You dug your phone out of your pocket, clumsily unlocking it and shoving the phone in Dasom’s face. 

“This is why he thought I cheated and honestly? I’m starting to think I did cheat on him.” 

Dasom took your phone, confusion settling itself on her face as she scrolled through the conversation. 

“You cheated on Mingyu?” She asked in disbelief. 

“Of course, I didn’t!” You protested. 

“Then who is Byungho?” She asked. 

“Who is Byungho?” You agreed loudly. “Do you know a Byungho? I don’t. Hansol doesn’t. No one does! But who would believe that with that conversation on my phone.” 

Hansol scoffed and took the phone from Dasom’s hands, looking at the conversation himself. 

“Obviously Mingyu should know you better than this. This person doesn’t even text like you.” 

“I think he was too busy having his heart broken to analyze the way that I was texting,” you said bluntly. “So instead, he just broke mine too.” 

You broke down into sobs earning yourself a sigh of sympathy from Dasom. 

“What are you going to do? You and Mingyu were perfect together,” Dasom said. “You’ve got to get him back.” 

“There’s no getting him back, he blocked me on everything,” you replied between your tears. “And I tried to go back to our apartment, but Soonyoung threatened to take legal action if I showed up again.” 

“What a-” 

“He’s just being a good friend,” you interrupted shooting yet another glare at Hansol. “I can’t even be mad I’m just… Completely and utterly helpless and I’m never going to be in love ever again.” 

“Hey-“ 

When you didn’t look up Dasom’s hands fell on your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. 

“You’re going to fall in love again. Everything is going to be okay.” 

You nodded at her, but your heart didn’t really match the optimism. 

“Besides, who knows? Maybe this will all blow over and Mingyu will take you back.” 

But weeks of staring at your phone waiting for that phone call turned into months, and before you knew it all your stuff was in Hansol’s apartment and he was the first person that you saw every day. 

Now, you were the you after Kim Mingyu. 

“Y/n!” Jeonghan cheered from across the bar, holding up two shots. “Come here! Let’s toast!” 

You waved off the person you were talking to and squeezed past people in the bar until you were pushed right up to Jeonghan. You smiled at him as he pushed one of the shot glasses into your hand. 

“Let’s drink,” he said excitedly. “To being newly single.” 

“I’ve been single, Jeonghan,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “And Jihyo was barely a relationship.” 

Jeonghan’s mouth dropped open and he feigned hurt by placing his hands to his chest. 

“Barely a relationship?” He exclaimed. “After the amount of sex we had I wouldn’t say-” 

Loud protests coming from you stopped Jeonghan from talking with a laugh. 

“Look, you’re just jealous because no one has even tested the waters with you since you and Mingyu broke up.” 

“That’s not true,” you insisted. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.  

“Okay then, where’s the comprehensive list?” 

You comically dropped open your mouth. 

“Mr. Yoon, I don’t kiss and tell.” 

Before Jeonghan could attempt to humiliate you further, a hand wrapped around your wrist, and Dasom fixed you with a large smile. 

“Did you come here to talk to Jeonghan or did you come here to have fun?” She asked. You laughed, letting her drag you into the middle of the bar. She put her back to a guy you knew she didn’t know and began to grind on him. You covered your mouth as you laughed as she turned and drew the guy into a kiss. 

When she looked back at you she gestured around her. 

“Come on. Pick a guy. Don’t you want to have fun tonight?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m just dancing here on my own,” you said, moving your hands to your sides and doing a truly awful dance move from side to side. As you moved someone came up behind you, their hand on the small of your back. 

“I know a guy you could grind on.” 

You turned back to Jeonghan. 

“Why don’t you find a different person to grind with?” You said. “You might not strike out if you start somewhere else.” 

He laughed. 

“Okay no grinding, but I have all night to find someone to go home with.” 

His hand move to yours and he swung your hand back and forth. 

“Tonight I’ll just bother you until we find someone for you to hook up with.” 

You rolled your eyes, falling into step with Jeonghan as you two danced around the room. 

“I’m not going to hook up with someone tonight,” you protested. 

“Come on!” Jeonghan protested. “You’ve got to! You’re in a dry spell. You’re never going to move on from Mingyu if you don’t take this step.” 

“I’ve moved on from Mingyu,” you replied. “It’s been months-” 

“Six to be exact,” Jeonghan replied. “Six months since anyone has entered your sacred temple-” 

“Ew-” 

“It’s not healthy to go that long without sex,” Jeonghan said seriously. You shook your head. 

“I’ll get back into the game when I’m ready to get back into the game,” you said. “You should focus on your own chances tonight. You’re going to strike out a lot with that shirt on.” 

Jeonghan laughed but he seemed to accept your answer this time. He spun you around, his eyes suddenly on the crowd around him. 

“Alright, so let’s see,” he said softly. “Who do you think is the girl who has drank the least but is still hot and smart enough to come home with me tonight?” 

“I actually think everyone here is too smart to go home with you tonight,” you replied. Before Jeonghan could express his offense you pointed at a girl not too far. 

“What about her? She’s hot, and she’s not holding a drink,” you suggested. He hummed, clicking his tongue.  

“She’s watching her friends like a hawk though. No way she would leave the bar with me.” 

“Unless we get her to send her friend's home one by one,” you replied. “All it takes is for an observation from a friend and a certain Yoon Jeonghan offering to call them a cab like an absolute angel.” 

A smile spread over Jeonghan’s lips as he slowly whistled and then pressed his lips to your cheek in a brief kiss, that left you laughing and batting him away. 

“You clever thing you.” 

To be completely honest you liked helping Jeonghan with his hook ups and simple plans like getting a couple of friends home safe while Jeonghan made his move were fun. You weren’t surprised when Jeonghan was leaving the bar with a girl on his arm, and a wink over his shoulder in your direction. 

Luckily for you, during the whole debacle you had found a fun stranger to pass the time with. 

You weren’t paying any attention to the time, or even Dasom as you danced with the person, talking about your day and your plans for the week. 

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you glanced down, slipping it out of your pocket. It took one glance at the phone number on your screen to have you pushing your beer on the counter. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

You felt your heart rate increasing as you pushed through the crowd, feeling the phone vibrating in your hand. Each time it vibrated you worried that you were taking too long, and yet you still had a while before you would get out of the bar. 

Before you could think it over twice, you answered the call pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi, just one second-” 

You pushed past a few more people and out the door of the bar, jogging until you were in the quiet alley next to the bar. 

“Hi, sorry, it’s so loud in there,” you said, laughing slightly as you changed the ear that your phone was pressed to. 

“Hello.” 

You hadn’t thought you were going to hear that soft voice ever again. You thought maybe right now on the phone he sounded raspier. But maybe that was just in your head. 

“Sorry, this is-” 

“I know it’s you Mingyu,” you breathed, pressing your back against the brick wall behind you. 

“You still have my contact?” 

“No. I’d just recognize your phone number in my sleep.” 

There was a moment of silence where Mingyu took the chance to breath. 

“This is.... This is stupid,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t ask you this.” 

You waited for him to go on, but he was hesitant. 

“Maybe not,” you agreed. “But I can tell you if it really is or not. Just ask.” 

You really didn’t care what he had to say. You just wanted to continue to hear his voice. 

“You know how we had planned to go to New York together for Christmas?” 

You were quiet for too long. You were enjoying listening to him so much that you forgot how to speak. 

“Yeah. We booked the flight and hotel and everything,” you replied. 

“Well, it’s non-refundable.” 

“What?” 

“The flight, the hotel? It’s all non-refundable.” 

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Well, that’s okay. You should still go.”  “No, no, I want you to go,” Mingyu replied softly. “It was your dream to go there over Christmas.” 

“Mingyu you paid for it. I can’t just take your-” 

“I’m not going on that trip,” Mingyu interrupted, his voice rough. You scoffed. 

“I’m not going either.” 

There was silence between the two of you, long enough that a few minutes passed and neither of you hung up. You wondered if he was holding on for the same reasons as you were. Because you missed him more than you had realized. 

“Y/n, I shouldn’t have called you.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. 

“And I’m about to suggest you something stupid that I really shouldn’t suggest.” 

“I can decide that.” 

He sighed. 

“If you won’t go to New York because I paid for the tickets, and I won’t go because you’re the one who wanted to why don’t we.... Meet in the middle.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“Meet in the...?” 

“Let’s go to New York together.” 

“What?” You blurted. You cleared your throat, trying to get control of how loud you had been. “Mingyu that’s crazy.” 

“It’s crazy for us to just let the money go to waste!” 

“Do you even want to go on the trip with me? You’re the one who-” 

“I know what I said,” Mingyu interrupted. “I’m not... I’m not saying I regret it I just... You deserve that. At least. After this year, you deserve New York City at Christmas.” 

Silence fell between you two again. 

“I shouldn’t have-” 

“Let’s do it.” 

“... Really?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s just one weekend right? What harm is one weekend?” 

“You’re stupid,” Hansol insisted, watching you from your bed as you packed another shirt into your suitcase. You shot him annoyed look, which just made him shoot you another wide eyed one. “What? You are! You’re going on a weekend trip with your ex?” 

“It’s just five days.” 

“That’s five more days than you ever thought you would see him again,” Hansol hissed. “You’re going to go on that trip and you’re going to-” 

“What?” You interrupted Hansol. “Fall in love with him again? It’s five days. I’m not going to fall in love with him again over five days.” 

Hansol was quiet for a little bit and while it should have made you relieved you couldn’t help but think that the silence was worse than him talking. You tried really hard to ignore it for a few minutes but the silence was deafening. 

“What?” You sighed. Hansol looked away from you. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he said. 

“You think I’m going to fall back in love with Mingyu on this trip?” You pressed. 

Hansol sighed. 

“I don’t think that you are ever fell out of love with him.” 

You stopped in the middle of packing your bags, looking away from Hansol. You hated the way his words made a knot grow in your throat. Not because Hansol was wrong and it was making you frustratrated… But because you knew that he was right. 

“A lot of people are still in love with their exes,” you said quietly. “Our break up wasn’t satisfying for me since I never got the chance to explain. Of course I’m still in love with him.” 

“It’s not going to be good for you to go on this trip with him,” Hansol insisted. “Let’s say he falls back in love with you. Because you’re familiar and he misses you even though he thinks you cheated on him. He’s never going to trust you. He’ll never believe you when you promise that guy from the club approached you unsolicited or that Chan from work really did need extra help.” 

“Hansol, you’re being ridiculous,” you insisted. “Mingyu has too much self-respect for himself to go back to me after I cheated on him.” 

“You forget I was friends with him before the break up,” Hansol said. “If Mingyu loved you as much as he seemed to, then he very well would take you back.” 

You weren’t really sure how you were supposed to react to the prospect of getting back together with Mingyu. Your whole body buzzed at the excitement of it, but you couldn’t help but think about what Hansol was saying. 

Would he really take you back just because you were familiar? Was it possible that he missed what you two used to have? Surely, he wouldn’t subject himself to the pain of never being able to trust you just because he had never been able to fully move on from your relationship. 

You shook your head, clearing your mind of your rampant thoughts. 

“It’s just a trip,” you said. “Nothing’s going to happen on a trip.” 

- 

“You know it’s not too late to back out,” Hansol warned as you looked through your bag to try and make sure that you had all of the documents that you were going to need. “I won’t be upset with you if you want me to drive you back home.” 

“I’m going on this trip Hansol,” you said, shooting him a glare. “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s smart. I’m already here and packed. Besides…” I want to see Mingyu again. 

Before Hansol could start to lecture you again about how bad of an idea it was, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You dug it out and shushed Hansol as you answered the phone. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“Hey it’s-“ 

“Mingyu, I know it’s you,” you interrupted softly. “I just got to the airport. Are you here?” 

“Yeah, I can see you.” 

Your eyebrows raised. 

“Oh, where-” 

“Turn to your right and right next to the pillar…” 

You followed Mingyu’s instructions and when you finally found him, standing across the airport in a long dark grey trench coat with a scarf tied tightly around his neck… You forgot how to breath. 

You hadn’t seen Mingyu since the fight. Not even in passing on the street or at a club by chance. You hadn’t seen Mingyu since the fight. 

Your phone lowered ever so slightly from your ear and your mouth gaped a little. You felt your eyes flutter and- 

You felt yourself get nudged sharply in the side. 

“Just a weekend trip?” Hansol hissed at you. You glared at him and shoved your finger in front of your lips again. 

“He can hear and see us.” 

“Good, maybe I can talk some sense into him about-” 

“I’ll be right over,” you interrupted loudly into the phone, quickly hanging up. As soon as the phone call had ended you looked over at Hansol giving him a look that you could only hope would kill. 

“Can you not be good for two seconds?” You asked him. “I’m going on this trip. Would it kill you to be supportive?” 

“You took one look at Mingyu and it was like you were already falling in love with him all over again,” Hansol said. “Did you not see your face? You looked like you were ready to marry him and you haven’t seen him in six months.” 

“Shut up Hansol. You’re making it out to be a much bigger deal then it is,” you snapped. You snatched your suitcase from Hansol’s hands. “If you’re not going to be civil you can just leave me right now.” 

“I’m just trying to look out for you!” Hansol argued back. “And not just you, I’m trying to look out for Mingyu as well.” 

“We don’t need your help Hansol!” You argued back. You felt heat raising to your face, but before you could argue with him more you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Look. This is the last time I’ll see you before Christmas. I don’t want to argue with you right before Christmas.” 

Hansol scoffed and looked away from you so you sighed. 

“Hansol, you know you’re my best friend ever right?” You pressed softly. Hansol glanced over at you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

You stepped closer to him, smiling up at him. 

“I love you.” 

Hansol tried to still look annoyed but a small smile spread itself over his lips. 

“I love you too.” He said. He raised his hand to your hair. “Be good in New York, okay? You know I’m just a phone call away.” 

You nodded, and you went to say something else to him but before he could someone cleared their throat. You glanced over, your face flaming red when you realized that Mingyu was standing right there next to you. You took a step back, your fingers tightening around the handle to your suitcase. 

“Sorry,” you murmured. 

Mingyu shrugged. 

“I’m not upset,” he said. His eyes flitted over to Hansol and they narrowed slightly. “I’d be upset too if my roommate was going on a weekend trip without me.” 

Hansol rolled his eyes. 

“Good to see you too,” he said. He turned his attention back to you. 

“Don’t forget,” he reminded, taping his phone with his index finger. “Just a call away.” 

“See you Hansol,” you said. He nodded and raised his hand in farewell, nodding to Mingyu as he left. You watched him for a while, secretly wishing he would stay with you two just a little longer. 

“So… You’ve moved on from Byungho then?” 

“Byungho?” You repeated, your eyebrows scrunching at the name. Mingyu scoffed and took your suitcase from your hand. 

“You and Hansol just looked really comfortable,” he replied. Your eyebrows furrowed at the statement, but you were too focused on your suitcase to mind. 

“Hey, why are you-” 

“It’s always the ones that they tell you not to worry about,” Mingyu continued with a roll of his eyes. He started walking forward, not really giving you the time to digest the statement. “Come on, our gate is this way.” 

You rushed forward to try and keep up with Mingyu- he was walking fast. You noted that he never used to walk this fast. Not when you two were dating. People always talked about how fast Mingyu walked but you had always been able to keep up with him so you just assumed that you were a fast walker too. 

Now it was evident that he walked slower then for you. 

“It’s uh…” You trailed off, glancing at the people walking past. “It’s really nice to see you.” 

Mingyu was quiet, so you decided to press the topic. 

“I never thought you were going to talk to me again.” 

“I didn’t either,” Mingyu replied, his voice soft. You thought again about what Hansol had said. Remembered that he thought Mingyu would let himself fall back into a relationship that lacked trust and… 

“So, we’ve got quite the flight ahead of us,” you said, clearing your throat and turning away from Mingyu. 

He hummed, as he looked you up and down. 

“Yeah.” 

He sighed. 

“Aren’t you cold? Do you know how cold it is outside? And it’s going to be even colder in New York,” he commented. You glanced down at your clothes, your head falling to the side. 

“I’m wearing a long-sleeve.” 

“But you get cold so easily,” Mingyu replied. You’re going to be freezing in New York.” 

You rolled your eyes away from him. 

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted. Mingyu seemed like he didn’t want to argue it anymore and his attention turned away from you. 

“Our gate isn’t that far from here. Did you eat?” 

As he walked, your eyes stayed trained on your bag that he was rolling through the airport. 

“Hansol and I grabbed coffee on the way here,” you replied. 

“Oh,” he said, sounding- If you remembered him as well as you thought he did- a little disappointed. “I haven’t had anything. I think I’ll grab a scone and an americano once we get to our gate.” 

“Okay,” you replied. “Can I have my bag back?” 

“I’ve got it,” Mingyu replied. 

Your eyes narrowed, but Mingyu didn’t notice because he was walking so damn fast. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath until you two finally got to the gate and he had sat your bags by one of the seats. 

“I’m going to swing by the Starbucks okay? I’ll be right back.” 

You nodded and as soon as Mingyu had disappeared you went through your bag to try and find the book that you had brought to help pass the time. It was sort of hard to focus on it. After all, you were in an airport with Mingyu and you were about to go on a weekend trip with him. Your ex. 

You had never done anything so stupid. Somehow with your past relationships the breaks had always been clean and there had never been any drama between your friends. No rumors of cheating, no emotional abuse. Just a I think we should break up text and a normal following Tuesday. 

But your relationship with Mingyu had been so intense. It being ripped away from you meant you never got the closure that you so desperately craved. 

“Here.” 

You looked up to see that Mingyu was holding a Starbucks cup in front of your face. Your eyebrows rose. 

“What...” You trailed off as you took the warm cup from you. 

“I wasn’t just not going to get you something. I hope you still like lattes.” 

Mingyu took a seat next to you and pulled a danish from out of a little bag. He began to snack on it, taking a sip of his americano between the drink. As he did, you turned your attention to the latte that he had gotten you. It was hot. You generally enjoyed them iced, but you knew he must have gotten it hot because it was so cold out and he wanted you to stay warm. 

You took a sip of it, glad to see that not only did it have your favorite kind of milk in it but that it was a flavor of latte that you hadn’t had since the breakup. You smiled against your cup, turning your head so that Mingyu wouldn’t see. You had sort of thought that Mingyu would have forgotten these little things about you. 

Mingyu didn’t talk to you much while you waited for the flight to start boarding. You read your book and finished your coffee and he threw away your things before you two finally got called on board. 

Getting onto the plane brought you the very first surprise of the trip. As you two walked through the plane you walked past the normal part of the plane... Then the business part of the plane... Until you got to... 

“You bought us first class?” You hissed. Mingyu glanced over his shoulder at you and shrugged. 

“It was your dream to come to New York City for Christmas. I wanted this trip to be a dream.” 

 “Going to the city of lights is a dream enough you didn’t have to buy us first class tickets.” 

The two of you sat down in seats that were practically twin recliners right next to each other with a large shared movie screen between the two. You glanced around as you sat your stuff down noticing the people next to the two of you had a literal gucci jacket on. 

“Mingyu, how much did this cost?” You asked, keeping your voice hushed so that it wasn’t too obvious that you two didn’t belong here. 

“I had just gotten a promotion... Remember?” Mingyu asked. “I make a lot of money now.” 

“Yeah but...” 

“Don’t worry about it, y/n.” 

“I can’t believe you almost let this much money go to waste,” you said with a shake of your head. “How am I supposed to not worry about it? That’s a lot of money.” 

“Why don’t you pick a movie?” Mingyu suggested, ignoring the fact that you were obsessing so much over how much money he must have spent on these tickets alone. 

“You can’t distract me from...” 

Even as you spoke Mingyu had started to scroll through the movies on the screen, and before you could finish your statement you saw something that you hadn’t thought you would see. 

“No way they have Onward,” you exclaimed excitedly. You instinctively grabbed Mingyu’s arm, and shook it the best you could (Mingyu barely budged because... You know...). “Can we watch Onward? Please?” 

“You haven’t changed a bit have you?” Mingyu asked with a laugh. “I think they also have Frozen on here. You sure you don’t want to watch that?” 

The endorphins raced in your body at the idea of watching that movie too. 

“It’s a long flight,” you said. “We can just watch both right?” 

Mingyu hummed. 

“Yeah, we can watch both.” 

If there was one thing that you hadn’t been expecting to happen when going on this trip was to fall into old habits. But the entirety of the flight didn’t feel awkward at all. Instead, you spent the whole trip reciting your favorite lines, under your breath, only to catch Mingyu smiling at you in between instead of being annoyed the way that you would think he would be. 

Eventually he dozed off to sleep, and it was just you sitting next to him on the flight. 

You couldn’t help the feeling in the bottom of your chest. A feeling that you hadn’t felt in six months. You swallowed hard and looked down at your hands. 

You thought you needed to focus on the Onward and stop focusing on the sleeping man next to you. 

When you and Mingyu made it to the hotel you tried your best not to freak out like you had about the first-class tickets. Why would you have to try your best not to freak out? Because the giant marble atrium of the hotel lobby that you were standing in was making you think that maybe Mingyu spent a little bit more than the budget you two had discussed so long ago. 

“I have a reservation under Kim Mingyu,” Mingyu said to the attendant who was standing there with real diamond earrings in her ears. She smiled at him, and typed a few things on her computer. 

“Ah right, Kim Mingyu. The gentleman who booked our honeymoon suite over Christmas.” 

“Oh-” Mingyu laughed nervously, glancing back at you. “I called to switch the room. Did that not end up happening?” 

The lady’s head cocked to the side and her eyebrows riddled in confusion. 

“We didn’t get a call about that? Do you remember who you talked to?” 

“Angela,” Mingyu replied without missing a beat. “She said that she could switch to a room with two queens...?” 

The lady at the desk sighed. 

“Between you and me? Angela is days from getting fired. She never does what she is supposed to.” The lady clicked away at her computer. “Let me see. You just need a room with two beds?” 

“Yes. You don’t have to charge me less just... Some things have changed.” 

The lady at the desk thankfully didn’t pry. She clicked away at her computer for a while before finally sighing and turning her attention to Mingyu. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim, but I have nothing.” 

“Nothing at all? I mean we’ll take-” 

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, taking a step forward. You smiled at the lady and shrugged. “He’s always so considerate but it’s really fine if we share a bed. The honeymoon suite sounds fun.” 

You couldn’t help the way you bit the bottom of your lip. 

“Expensive,” you mumbled and then flashed a smile. “Fun.” 

“Okay! Then here are your keys-” She slid the two of you hotel room keys. “It’s the top floor. Has a balcony, only room on that floor. Would you like someone to take your bags up to the room?” 

Before you could answer Mingyu was nodding. 

“We have a show to catch.” 

You turned to Mingyu your eyes wide as you mouthed: Show to catch? 

Mingyu shrugged. 

“We’re going to see Beetlejuice on Broadway.” 

“What!” Your voice rose a little louder than you wanted it to, so you covered your mouth and leaned closer to Mingyu. 

“We’re going to see Beetlejuice?” You hissed. “How are we going to see Bettlejuice?” 

“It was the musical you wanted to see when we made the plans to come here,” Mingyu replied pointedly. “I bought the tickets back then.” 

“How did you know that I wanted to see Beetlejuice?” You asked. Mingyu reached into his jacket pocket, rummaging through it a little bit before pulling out a piece of paper. 

“Don’t you remember? You wrote an itinerary for the trip,” he replied. You took the piece of paper and surely enough, there it was... The itinerary that you had spent hours drafting up all those months ago. You had completely forgotten about this itinerary. In fact, when you and Mingyu had broken up you had completely scrapped all thoughts of coming to New York City at all. 

“You still have this?” You asked. Mingyu’s eyebrows scrunched together uncertainly, and shrugged. 

“I...” He trailed off, clearly trying to think of something good to say. “We should go now so that we have plenty of time to get in our seats.” 

- 

“I can’t believe we just saw a Broadway musical,” you said excitedly. “And Beetlejuice at that? Remember, that was the only thing I listened to for like a straight month.” 

Mingyu smiled at you as he took his coat off and began to take yours off your shoulders. 

“Dead mom was stuck in my head for like a week straight,” he replied with a chuckle. “How could I forget?” 

You sang the song quietly under your breath for a moment and then your eyes fell on the single bed in the room. You swallowed hard. 

“Uhm, so what are we going to do about...?” 

You didn’t even have to finish. Mingyu finished hanging up your two’s coats and then joined you looking at the bed. 

“I’ll just sleep on the floor. They have extra bedding in the closet.” 

“What?” You blurted. “You shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor. You spent so much money on this room-” 

“I keep telling you to forget about the money-” 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” you finished. 

“Not happening,” Mingyu replied with a shake of his head. “Why are you being so bratty on this trip? It’s just a few nights on the floor. I’ll survive.” 

“Bratty?” You blurted, your mouth dropping in disbelief. “Did you really just call me bratty?” 

“You keep worrying about money when I tell you not to.” 

“Even when we were dating, I didn’t like it when you spoiled me!” You insisted.  

That wasn’t entirely true, and you knew by the narrowing of his eyes that Mingyu could tell. You had liked it when Mingyu spent money on you because you knew that was a part of his love language, and you could pay him back in your own ways. 

But here? Now? How would you pay him back? 

And furthermore, why was he using his love language on you here and now? Six months after your breakup. Six months after he was supposed to take you back. 

You glanced up at him as he began to pull something out of his suitcase. 

Six months too late. 

“Let’s just share the bed,” you suggested. Mingyu looked back at you, frowning slightly. 

“Share...?” 

“We’re already crossing every boundary,” you pointed out. “Might as well cross this one too.” 

You went over to your own bag. 

“Besides, it’s a king size. It’ll be like we’re both in our own bed.” 

Even though you said that laying down in the bed with Mingyu made you nervous. 

“Do you mind if I read something?” Mingyu asked. You gestured for him to go ahead and rolled over so that your back was to him. You were scared to move. Practically hugging the side of the bed as you stared at the beige wall in front of you illuminated in the amber light. 

“Is it too bright?” Mingyu asked. You shook your head against your pillow. 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay with sharing the bed?” Mingyu continued. You glanced back at him over your shoulder. 

“Of course, I suggested it.” 

“You’re stiff as a board,” Mingyu pointed out. Your mouth gaped. 

“I’m not-” 

“We were together for-” 

“Okay fine, I’m a little on edge,” you replied. “It’s just that we broke up. I mean we can pretend all we want that it’s not but... It’s weird.” 

Mingyu nodded. 

“Let me just take the floor.” 

“I’ll get over it,” you replied firmly. You turned back around. “If I’m not sleeping on the floor, no one is sleeping on the floor.” 

Mingyu sighed but didn’t argue your point. 

“Tell me if I should turn the light off.” 

You didn’t tell Mingyu to turn the light off, but you didn’t fall asleep either. Time passed until Mingyu’s pages stopped turning, and the light went off, and he laid down in the bad. It wasn’t until long after his breathing evened out that you were finally able to drift asleep. 

When you woke up on your own side of the bed you had never felt more relieved in your life. You were on your side of the bed, not wrapped in Mingyu’s arms with your head on your chest or anything of the sort. 

After the whole one bed debacle you had been sure that you had been thrust into some shitty hallmark movie about being forced to spend time with your ex for holidays (one that probably wouldn’t have a happy ending but... Who knew.) Maybe that one cliché was just a coincidence. You sat up in bed, not really surprised to find that Mingyu was awake and reading through his book again. 

While he had never been much of a reader, Mingyu read what Wonwoo read, and this must have been his most recent recommendation. 

You quietly got out of bed, going over to your suitcase to pull out your outfit for today. 

“Mind if I shower?” You asked, noting that it looked like he had already gotten ready. 

“No go ahead. We have a reservation for breakfast in an hour.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. 

“We aren’t just eating breakfast here at the hotel?” 

“In New York City?” Mingyu questioned back. “If I remember right...” 

He pulled out that wrinkled paper itinerary. 

“You were very excited about Old John’s Diner.” 

You couldn’t help the way that your eyes lit up at the reminder of the restaurant. 

“Oh my god, chocolate chip waffles,” you said excitedly. “I’ll be out so fast.” 

True to your word, within the next hour you and Mingyu were sitting down at Old John’s diner. The diner was everything that you had imagined it to be in the pictures. Green stools at a bar, light up Parquette's that read: Take a Break and Sweet Dreams. An espresso machine to match the green bar stools, a led light that read: Since 1959. 

You were practically buzzing in excitement as you slid into one of the booths, your fingers spreading across the marble tabletops. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” you hissed. Your waitress walked over adorned in a red hankerchief tied around her head like a headband and she smiled handing the two of you a menu. 

“Good morning,” she greeted. “Can I get you two started with anything? Water? Coffee?” 

“An Americano,” Mingyu said. 

“A latte,” you piped up afterwards. The waitress wrote down the menu items and smiled at the two of you.  

“I’ll give you some time to look at the menu and I’ll be back soon.” 

You didn’t have to look at the menu to know that you wanted chocolate chip waffles. How could you want anything but chocolate chip waffles? You had practically been thinking about these specific waffles for six months. 

But still you peeked up over the top of your menu, looking at Mingyu close, trying to tell by his eyes what he was going to pick. Six months ago you would have known. Six months ago he would have chosen exactly what you had suggested on the itinerary. 

But this wasn’t six months ago. This was now. 

“What are you thinking of getting?” You asked conversationally. Mingyu hummed, dragging his eyes up to yours. As soon as you two made eye contact however your eyes darted back towards your menu, feeling your heart do something strangely akin to skipping a beat. 

But surely, after having broken six months ago it was incapable of doing that. 

“Do I really have a choice?” He asked, but there was a smile in his voice. “Chocolate chip waffles.” 

Yep, that surely was that feeling in your chest. That echoing, body shaking thud after an absent one was nothing other than your heart reactigin to Mingyu’s words. You weren’t going to do this. 

You weren’t here to fall back in love with Kim Mingyu. 

 You were here to experience the city. To finally see Times Square dusted in snow. To take a walk through Central Park to- 

“Oh my god, wait.” You put your menu face down on the table. “If we are following my itinerary-” 

“To the T,” Mingyu added. 

“That means we’re doing.... Everything?” 

“Our next stop is Starbucks, and then we are seeing Santa Claus at the Empire State Building. We’ll get some KBBQ in Korea Town after that and then go to one of those Holiday Market’s you just wouldn’t stop talking about-” 

“Oh my god and then Spectacular Factory right?!” You exclaimed in excitement. 

“The Holiday Multiverse, open through January 8, is an imaginative multiverse of holiday villages with a candy cane carousel, thousands of nutcrackers, giant swinging jingle bells, holiday wreaths,” Mingyu read somewhat monotone. “We’ll hit the shops and check out the Holiday window displays.” 

“We’re finally going to get to go to Bergdorf Goodman,” you replied, fidgeting in your seat. “And shopping at Fao Schwarz.” 

“Which you kindly included closes at 8, so we have quite the day ahead of us,” Mingyu replied. “But luckily, the last thing on the docket today is open late.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to remember what the last thing for the day was, but you were drawing a blank. 

“McGee’s pub?” Mingyu reminded softly. 

“From How I Met Your Mother! The bar that inspired it all!” You exclaimed excitedly. You realized that you were getting a little loud and physically lowered your head a little. “Mingyu we’re keeping my entire itinerary?” 

“You spent hours on it!” Mingyu replied. “How could we do anything but?” 

He was right. You had spent a long time on it. But regardless it seemed crazy to you that he was going so far out of his way to make this the perfect vacation.  

“I’ve got to ask though... Starbucks?” 

When you looked at him you saw the jest in his eyes, but you still felt the need to defend yourself as if he wasn’t just joking. 

“It’s New York City!” You replied insistently. “How could I not get Starbucks in New York City?” 

A plate of gooey chocolate chip pancakes, and a tall caramel macchiato later and you and Mingyu were almost up for seeing Santa in none other than the Empire State Building itself. 

When you were younger and had imagined that architectural landmark you had never imagined it would be just as amazing as it was. Sure, it was just a building, but it still left you awestruck. Mingyu poked your arm. 

“We’re almost up,” he said softly. 

You thought it would be awkward to spend this time with Mingyu. And sure, it hadn’t been that long but so far it was everything but awkward. It was actually quite comfortable. You knew that if you had come to New York City for a weekend trip with most people your ideas would clash, but just like Mingyu had insisted since you started planning the trip when you were dating the trip was all about you and if you want to do it, then I will have fun guaranteed. 

“I can’t believe that you actually want to see Santa Claus,” you said with a scoff. 

“Hey, it was on your itinerary!” Mingyu protested. He crossed his arms. “Besides, I have something I need to ask Santa.” 

You laughed incredulously. 

“Mingyu,” you lowered your voice a few octaves. “Santa’s not real. He can’t make your Christmas wish come true.” 

Mingyu’s face contorted into that of a kicked puppies. His eyes wide, his eyebrows lax, his bottom lip protruding.  

“Not with that attitude he can’t.” 

“I just thought it would be good for pictures,” you said, resisting the urge to pat Mingyu’s head as if he actually were a dog. “But it seems a little odd to take pictures now.” 

“Proof that even exes can get along,” Mingyu said matter-of-factly. 

“Next.” 

You and Mingyu wormed your way around the velvet ropes up to the man pretending to be Santa Claus. He was sitting in a huge gold and velvet chair, with arm rests perfect for sitting on. 

“Well look what I have here,” Santa Claus boomed. “It’s always good to see older believers.” 

“Oh y/n, doesn’t really believe. Just wanted the pictures,” Mingyu tattled. 

“Yeah but you believe Mingyu. That’s what matters.” 

Mingyu’s eyes lit up in excitement that Santa knew his name, even though it was obvious that he had just overheard you two a few moments ago. Santa gestured for you two to take either side of him, patting his legs as you two took your seats by his side. 

“Now before the picture. Have you two been good this year?” Santa asked. Mingyu smiled so gummily it was like he was a little kid again. 

“Absolutely! I pulled a few pranks on the boys but overall, I’ve been good.” 

Santa let out a hearty laugh. 

“A few pranks is okay,” he said. He turned his attention to you. “And you? Have you been good this year?” 

“I’ve made a few mistakes,” you replied, risking a glance at Mingyu. “Some people think I’ve made ones I haven’t, but other than that I think I’ve been good.” 

“Well, we can’t help what others think,” Santa replied. “ But remember, this is the time of truth and forgiveness. If there’s ever a time that you would be able to convince someone of something you know to be true. Now is it.” 

Santa shrugged off-handedly. 

“Maybe that person already half-believes it anyways.” 

You couldn’t help but think that Santa was awfully on point with his speech but before you could say anything about it he was turning his attention to Mingyu. 

“Now Mingyu,” he said. “What is it that you want for Christmas?” 

Mingyu gestured for Santa to lean close. 

“I can’t let y/n hear or it won’t come true,” he insisted, making you roll your eyes. You couldn’t hear what Mingyu said but you noticed that his eyes stayed on you the whole time he told Santa his wish, and his expression was scarily serious. 

Santa nodded. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said seriously. He turned to you. “And what do you want for Christmas?” 

You knew that you were supposed to say something dumb that any adult would say. Or you were supposed to ask for something a kid would ask as as joke: Oh I’m still waiting on that Easy-bake oven. 

But any joke that was going to leave your mouth died on your lips. 

“I just want him to believe me,” you whispered softly. Your eyes flickered to Mingyu’s worried that he could hear you. Honestly, his serious expression didn’t tell you if he had heard or not, but regardless Santa pulled back. 

“I think I’ll be able to deliver on those Christmas gifts,” Santa said, sending a wink towards Mingyu. “Now why don’t we smile for the camera? Say Merry Christmas!” 

After Korean BBQ, the next destination was Grand Central Station for the Holiday Market. 

Again, you were taken aback by just how majestic the building was. Despite how people brushed into your sides, and how many different vendors there were to go look at you were completely awed by how large Grand Central was. The room was easily five times larger than you thought it was going to be. 

A giant, beige atrium with huge windows and wreaths scattered across the walls. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t have gone into architecture?” Mingyu asked in amusement as he dragged you through the terminal. “You aren’t even paying attention to the venders.” 

You gave him a serious look. 

“I’m seriously wondering that as well.” 

It surprised you how much Mingyu was paying attention to you. He made sure not to wander away from you in the market. Noticed when you rushed away to look at something. He even made sure you didn’t miss a booth he knew that you would love. 

Mingyu had always been like this… Always known you so well.  

“I can’t believe we are actually here,” you exclaimed, your shoulder brushing against his. As soon as you made contact you shifted your body so that you were no longer touching. “This is so exciting.” 

Mingyu rolled his eyes lightly. 

“I never saw what you saw in that show,” he murmured. You ignored him and rushed over to the bar. You waved over a bartender, sliding them your ID and your card. 

“Can you open a tab? I think I would be remise to not start with the Naked Man,” you said excitedly. You nudged Mingyu. “And let’s see... A Gay Pirate or a Daddy’s Home for my friend here?” 

“Seems like a Gay Pirate sort of guy to me,” the bartender commented, a laugh left your lips, but it only made Mingyu grumble. 

“A Daddy’s Home,” he insisted. “Trust me. Under different circumstances I would be able to prove with this one alone that a Daddy’s Home suits me more.” 

Your face blazed red. 

“Naked Man, and Daddy’s Home,” you replied quickly, desperately not wanting Mingyu to elaborate on his comment. “We’ll be sitting over there.” 

You dragged Mingyu over to one of the booths, only to be shortly followed by your drinks. Both of your drinks, of course, being references to some of the ways that one of the characters, Barney, would pick-up girls. 

“Remind me again...” Mingyu said. “The Naked Man?” 

“When a date is going bad you ask to go up to their place to use the restroom- or any excuse really to get into their place. Then when you two are in separate rooms you strip naked and surprise them.” 

“And the show is claiming people will actually sleep with you after that?” 

“It has a two-thirds success rate,” you replied. Mingyu laughed incredulously.  

“And Daddy’s Home?” 

He gestured to his own drink. 

“Barney has so much rizz he can just walk up to a girl and say those two words to her, and she’ll be in his bed.” 

“No way,” Mingyu said, his body shaking with his laughter. “How could I possibly forget that?”  You leaned close to Mingyu, giving him a seductive expression. 

“Daddy’s home.” 

Mingyu laughed at your bravado and got up from the table. 

“You got me, I’ll be in your bed tonight,” he jested. “I’m going to get another drink. What should I get this time?” 

“Oh, I have the perfect drink you should get a..... Wait for it...” You paused just like Barney would in the show and then after a few silent moments you concluded. “Wait for it, the drink. It’s a drink.” 

Mingyu laughed at your antics. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back with a wait for it.” 

You nursed the drink in your hand as you looked around the somewhat familiar bar. As you sat there your phone began to go off. Your eyebrows scrunched and you raised your phone to your ear. 

“Hansol?” 

“Hey,” Hansol replied, clearly shifting the phone. “Are you and Mingyu fucking yet? Is this a good time?” 

“I know full well that you have me on Find My. You know that I’m at a bar right now.” 

Hansol laughed. 

“How’s New York?” 

“Beautiful,” you murmured. “Amazing.” 

You sighed. 

“Mingyu has been... He’s keeping my itinerary!” You exclaimed. Hansol’s confusion was heard through his voice. 

“What?” 

“Remember when we were first planning the trip?” You replied. “He kept my original plans. We went to see Beetlejuice yesterday and today we went to see Santa Claus at the Empire State Building!” 

Hansol was quiet on the other side of the line, so you sighed. 

“Yeah... I know.” 

“Do you?” Hansol asked. “Do you really know? Because it seems to me like you don’t realize just how stupid you are being.” 

“Nothing’s happening,” you insisted softly. “You’re being so dramatic. Everything has been normal. Just like we are two friends in New York City for a weekend.” 

“Yeah, nothing romantic about New York at Christmas,” Hansol agreed. “It may be fine right now but sooner or later you two are going to start getting to that point where the friendship is so comfortable it feels like your relationship all over again and then...” 

“The breakup is going to come back up,” you whispered. 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t want to think about that right now.” You looked up and as you did Mingyu was standing there, setting his drink on the table. His eyebrows rose slightly, and you pointed at the phone, mouthing Hansol’s name. Mingyu nodded and sat down. “All I know is it’s been a good weekend. And look, I should be going.” 

“Mingyu’s back isn’t he?” Hansol asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let me hold you for just a little longer,” Hansol said. “Dasom is going on a trip too so it’s just me for the holiday’s.” 

“What?” You asked. “What about your mom? Sofia?” 

“They’re travelling so we’re not having Christmas until the 27th.” 

“Ah gee, I’m sorry,” you said softly. “You should come here. You could hang out with Mingyu and I.” 

“I do not want to be there when whatever you and Mingyu have going on goes up in flames,” Hansol replied. “Just think of calling me a bit this weekend. Send pictures.” 

“For sure,” you agreed. “I’m sorry I wouldn’t have come if I had known.” 

“It really is okay. Talk to you tomorrow?” 

You nodded and Hansol sighed. 

“Tell Mingyu I say hi.” 

“Okay. Bye Hansol.” 

You hung up the phone, shooting Mingyu an apologetic smile. 

“Hansol’s really worried about me,” you explained softly. You let that sit and then realized what you had said. “Not really of you or anything... It’s just he’s worried I’m going to get my heart broken.” 

You noticed that it didn’t get better the more you said. 

“Why would you be the heart broken one?” Mingyu asked. “I was the one who got cheated on.” 

Your lips pressed together uncomfortably, and you tried to think of a way to change the topic but you didn’t have to. Instead Mingyu tipped his drink towards you. 

“Yn. You should catch me up on what you’ve had going on,” he encouraged. You stared at him, suspiciously you’ll admit, and it made him sigh. 

“This is your bar isn’t it?” Mingyu pointed out softly. You looked down at your drink. “Let’s have fun? Like your tv friends. Tell me what you’ve had going on!” 

At first, you just told Mingyu little things. Tried to talk more about others than your life, but that didn’t work for very long because it was Mingyu you were talking to, and he knew you. Each time he made you laugh, or reminded you of some stupid inside joke you two shared it made your heart ache a little more. You didn’t mean to drink much... You really didn’t, but how could you not drink when all you could think was that eventually this was going to end. And come December 27th, you were going to be alone all over again, with Yoon Jeonghan trying to convince you to sleep with a stranger at a bar. 

And so, it wasn’t really all that surprising, that by an hour in you were completely wasted, and while it was surprising that Mingyu would ever actually be drunk, considering the amount at which you had been watching him dunk back drinks it made sense that he was in fact drunk. 

And, considering the way the conversation had turned... You knew that you both had to have been completely wasted to be joking about the fact that you had cheated on him. 

He laughed, but you could hear your heart thudding in your ears. You waited for the blaming to start again, waited to have to fight for your life trying to convince him that you hadn’t cheated. 

In fact, the sentence was on your tongue- 

“Unless... You didn’t cheat on me,” he continued. Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. You couldn’t let your hopes get up. It had been too long since the breakup. He had probably stopped thinking about you months ago. There was no way that he had even come close to thinking that maybe you didn’t cheat on him. 

“Mingyu what are you talking about?” You asked. 

“The weirdest thing about our break up was probably the fact that I thought I knew you,” Mingyu said. “One thing that I had always taken for granted was that I could read you. I always knew when you were lying or telling the truth.” 

You let a small smile flicker across your lips. 

“God that was so frustrating,” you agreed softly. “I couldn’t lie to you if I wanted to.” 

“So how did you hide an affair from me?” Mingyu asked. You sighed, resting your head on your hand. 

“Do we really have to talk about this?” You asked. “It’s not going to get us anywhere.” 

“Just answer the question.” 

There’s nothing to answer,” you replied. “I didn’t hide an affair because I didn’t cheat on you. I don’t even know who the guy is that I supposedly cheated on you with!” 

“He’s one of Dasom’s friends,” Mingyu replied. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Wait one of Dasom’s friends-”  “You just... Even with all the proof laid out for me it doesn’t make sense.” 

Mingyu set down his drink and the now empty glass clicked against the table. 

“Can we not talk about this?” You asked Mingyu. “I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“I know you didn’t cheat on me,” Mingyu said finally. 

You looked at him, and your eyes drifted down to his drink. You wanted to be able to blame the alcohol on his words but he had barely drank anything at all. 

You thought maybe you hadn’t drank enough so you dipped the rest of your drink into your mouth. Your nose scrunched at the burn. 

“No you don’t,” you said. 

“I do,” Mingyu reasserted. “Look... I just-” 

He interupted himself to let out a frustrated noise. 

“When I saw those texts on your phone I felt so betrayed. I thought I knew you? I had already had someone telling me that you were cheating. They just pointed out some of your behaviors and claimed it was weird so there was this seed in my brain. And then I told Soonyoung about it...” 

He hesitated and glanced at the bar like he needed another drink. 

“Texts are so definitive and so I just cut you off. Soonyoung told me that was the best idea. You could convince me it wasn’t true and we knew it was, but... I know you.” 

“You don’t know me,” you negated.  

“I do and the whole time it felt wrong, and I have been scrounging for any excuse to get in contact with you again because you would never cheat on me.” 

You felt something warm and wet slide down your cheek and you immediately reached up to wipe the liquid away. There was no way Mingyu knew what he was saying. He couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant. 

“I do mean it,” Mingyu insisted. “Today only reminded me that having you in my life is the best thing that ever happened to me and I was stupid to cut you out without hearing you out.” 

“You were just protecting yourself.” 

“But it’s you,” Mingyu emphasized. He reached across the table and took your hands in his. “Will you date me again?” 

“Mingyu...” 

“I know that leaving you hurt you, and I promise to never do it again,” he insisted. “In six months, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve typed your number in my phone a million times. Soonyoung has taken all communication devices away from me when I was drunk countless times.” 

He squeezed your hands comfortingly. The only problem with that being that now you couldn’t stop the tears streaking down your cheeks. 

“Communication and trust are the two most important things in a relationship,” Mingyu continued. “I trust you, and I promise this time I will do nothing but communicate with you.” 

He made sure your eyes were on his for this next part. 

“I love you. Please come back to me.” 

You had to pull your hands away from Mingyu at this point because you were full on sobbing. Your hands covered your face as you rapidly wiped tears from your cheeks, only for them to immediately be streaked all over again. 

After only a few moments of your constrained gasps and hiccups you felt someone slide in beside you and muscular arms wrapped themselves around your body. You didn’t care to fight it anymore. You didn’t care what Hansol had to say about it. 

You turned into Mingyu’s body, letting yourself soak his shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to get out. One of his hands fell on your head. 

“For what?” He whispered. 

“For not being strong enough to protect you,” you mumbled. Mingyu laughed. 

“You’re the last person I need protected from.” 

When you had finally stopped crying you and Mingyu made your way back to the hotel. You were mostly quiet, your heart racing in your chest, both from the thrill of Mingyu’s confession and the uncertainty of what you really should do. 

Once you two had laid down you waited until his breathing evened to sneak out of bed and call Hansol in the hall. 

“Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning?” 

You completely ignored Hansol’s tone of voice. 

“You were right,” you mumbled. A surprised tone left Hansol’s side of the phone and you heard shuffling like he was sitting up in bed. 

“What happened?” 

“Mingyu confessed to me. He told me he loves me. He told me he believes me.” 

Hansol was quiet for a moment. 

“And?” 

“I believe him,” you replied softly. You heard Hansol let out a frustrated sigh. 

“I knew that this trip was only going to end one way,” he mumbled. 

“Well, is it a bad thing?” You blurted. “He loves me! I love him!” 

“But that doesn’t take away those messages on your phone.” 

You sighed. 

“But he trusts me. Text messages or not, he believes that I didn’t cheat on him.” 

“I mean if he really does feel that way, than that’s enough.” 

And there it was. The reason you called. The words you wanted to hear.  

“It’s enough,” you agreed.  

“But if he doesn’t feel that way...” Hansol started and you groaned. 

“But he does.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” Hansol bit back. “I mean, what is going on with you two anyways? Weren’t you at a bar earlier-” 

“Well-” 

“And now, what? You are two exes, who just had an extremely romantic day in New York City at Christmas. Remembering the good old days, thinking about how Mingyu even smells the same way you remember him-” 

“He-” 

“And then you two go get drunk, high on the thought that Mingyu loves you, and what’s going to happen next?” 

You felt frustration bubbling inside your hazy brain. Because you wanted Hansol to be wrong. He was so stupid. Because Mingyu didn’t just say things. He didn’t just say he loved people. If he said it he meant it and... He had never said something drunk that he hadn’t meant to say... 

“Shut up Hansol.” 

“You know I’m right.” 

“You’re not rght Hansol, you’re wrong and you’re stupid and shut up,” you blurted out angrily. There was silence between the two of you. The silence in which you recalled just how drunk you were. Just how sad you were because you wanted everything that Mingyu had said to be true. You wanted him to be in love with you. 

“If he believes that you didn’t cheat, that’s enough,” Hansol said finally. Your fingers tightened on your phone. It was like he had hit rewind. 

“It’s enough,” you agreed firmly. 

You and Hansol were silent for a few moments, and then he sighed. 

“Did I say what you wanted? Can I go back to sleep now? Not all of us are on vacation you know.” 

A smile spread over your face even though you knew that Hansol didn’t really think it was enough. Even though you knew that it wasn’t enonugh. 

“Yeah, thanks Hansol.” 

Hansol grumbled back a you’re welcome and the connection promptly ended. You pressed your back against the wall of the hotel hallway and sighed, looking down at the carpet beneath your feet. 

Not a stain in sight. Mingyu had really done too much. 

Your heart skipped a slight beat. He had always been like that though. Spoiling you. 

It made warmth spread in your chest to think that this whole trip had been a plan to get back together for Mingyu. He wasn’t just being nice, he had planned this. Everything was done perfectly, purposefully to remind you both what it was like to be together. 

As you stood there thinking about Mingyu, the door to the hotel creaked open and Mingyu’s head popped around the corner. You stared at each other silently for a moment, a smile crossing his lips while your face reddened. 

“Hansol’s on our side now?” He asked, his hair wet from what you presumed was a shower. You stared at Mingyu for a moment, his words going over your head. You watched the water drip down his neck, and you noticed that where a shirt should be there was the collar of a fluffy white bath robe. 

You swallowed hard. 

“I thought you were a sleep,” you replied. He shrugged and pressed the hotel room door open further, and with that you caught sight of his whole body. No shirt... No pants... His white robe tied loosely around his waist barely concealing anything at all. 

He closed the distance between the two of you, his hand raising to caress your cheek. Your face burned even darker as he grew closer to you. 

“You always hated it when I kissed you right after drinking,” he mumbled. 

“Because you tasted like bad beer,” you replied, your nose wrinkling. Mingyu chuckled. “But you... You brushed your teeth.” 

Mingyu took that as all the approval he needed. He closed the distance between the two of you dragging you into a deep kiss. You felt yourself pressing closer to him as you two kissed, you raising your own hands to his cheeks to keep him as close as possible. 

God, it had been so long since you kissed someone, and you missed the feeling of needing someone’s lips on yours as much as you needed to breath. And as you two kissed your whole body began to burn. 

Mingyu walked you back a bit, pressing you into the wall. His knee settling between your legs. His hands brushed further back on your head, one of them lowering down to your neck, his thumb brushing the base of your throat as his other hand tugged lightly at your hair. 

You whimpered into Mingyu’s mouth involuntarily and you shifted your own hands to Mingyu’s wet hair. It was so slick, and he was so warm and this hallway was so cold. 

Mingyu’s hand began to make its way down your body, sliding down your sides, growing closer to a spot in which you really wanted Mingyu to touch you. 

And of course, with the worst timing ever that was when you heard the door click behind Mingyu. You, regrettably, pulled away from him. 

“Mingyu, did you bring out a key?” You asked. Mingyu’s eyebrows rose. 

“You didn’t?” 

“I left the door cracked!” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh and his warmth escaped you. 

“I’ll go downstairs and get a spare key from the front counter.” 

You nodded. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

You thought about standing in the hall alone for a minute. 

“I’ll come with you.” 

When the two of you got back into the room, your body was still burning now partly with jealousy because the lady at the desk was about as distracted by your wet barely clothed ex-boyfriend as you were. And that had made you drag him back to your room, and that had meant Mingyu’s hand was on the back of your neck the entire rest of the trip back up. 

But the second that door was closed, and you stared at Mingyu with wide kiss me, fuck me eyes, he was groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Y/n, you need to go to sleep,” he said softly. Your disappointment was clearly expressed on your face. He groaned again. 

“You don’t even know how badly I want to...” He let out a small laugh, his eyes flickering across your body. “But not like this... Not drunk. Not exes. Not without knowing that you want me too... So you need to go to sleep.” 

You resisted the urge to scream because when did men get so smart and emotionally intelligent. You nodded. 

“I’m going to take a shower first.” 

And when you got back out, Mingyu was already pretending to sleep, a wall of pillows piled in the middle of the bed. 

- 

Despite going to sleep so late, you and Mingyu were still up early enough to go to Pershing Café, and get some of the best, most fluffy pancakes that you had ever had in your life. After eating, Mingyu gidily asked you if you remembered what was next on the itinerary- you didn’t. 

At least you didn’t until the two of you were holding pairs of ice skates. 

This trip hadn’t felt real when you had planned it. Sure you had written up the perfect itinerary, meeting Santa Claus and going to a tv show bar, but regardless it had never really felt real. So standing with Mingyu in the center of Rockefeller Square? 

Well, you briefly forgot how to breath. 

Mingyu was acting so casually about everything, as if the Christmas tree that loomed over the square wasn’t the biggest you had ever seen, and as if ice skating at Rockefeller Square wasn’t something that you had dreamed about doing. As if, he hadn’t drunkenly confessed he still loved you the night before. As if you hadn’t almost let him fuck you. 

“Come on,” he said, laughing at your dazzlement. “If you never get your skates on, we’ll never get on the ice.” 

You nodded and sat down next to him, but you weren’t able to do much because as soon as you were down Mingyu was on his knees in front of you.  

If when you had woken up this morning you had been under the impression that your conversation at the bar hadn’t happened, that thought was nearly immediately banished from your mind, because everything about the way that Mingyu was treating you today, screamed that he was trying to win you back. 

Your face blazed in embarrassment. 

“Mingyu,” you hissed. “What are you doing?” 

“Helping you put your skates on,” Mingyu replied innocently. Before you could protest more he was slipping your shoes off, and replacing them with the clunky ice skates. 

His indifference to the situation didn’t make you any less embarrassed, and the girls looking over and cooing in envy at the sight of the two of you did make you more embarrassed. 

“Mingyu, I’m not a princess,” you protested, but you let him tie the shoes regardless because who were you to try and convince Kim Mingyu not to do something when he was determined. Mingyu just smiled up at you, as if he could read your thoughts. 

“But I can still treat you like one.” 

He stood up and held out his hand to you. 

“Come on, you’re good at ice skating, right?” 

You and Mingyu had never been on an ice-skating date before, and it wasn’t because you were afraid of the cold or the ice. It was because you knew that if Mingyu went down, you were going down too. You had no clue whether Mingyu would be good at ice skating or not. He could be amazing at it but he could also be absolutely terrible and either way you wouldn’t bat your eye. 

You had sort of secretly figured you would be better than him at it. 

You had sort of secretly figured wrong. 

Mingyu insisted on holding your hand. Of course, he did, considering all the other couples were doing so and the part of you that wanted to remind him that you two weren’t together anymore (thanks to him) couldn’t say it when you saw the look in his eyes.  

And thank god he did end up quietly convincing you to hold his hand because you couldn’t stay upright to save your life. While you would have fallen if Mingyu went down, Mingyu was as stable as a wall as you tumbled to the ground. He just laughed, slowed to a stop, peeked down at you: “Are you okay?” And lifted you up off the ground like it was nothing. 

It was humiliating, really, how much time you were spending sitting on the ice versus skating on it, but seeing Mingyu’s radiant smile and hearing his infectious laugh every time you fell made you not even care about the bruises you would surely have later. And it made your heart yearn because the thought that this might be one of the last times you ever hold Mingyu’s hand hurt worse than any fall. 

“Maybe we should call it a day,” Mingyu said after about an hour. You had gotten a bit more control of your balance at this point and you were skating just as good as the five-year-old that had just gotten here. 

“Tired of picking me up?” You managed to get out in a teasing tone because now your arms, your heart, and your ego had been bruised in one short hour. 

“No,” Mingyu laughed. “Your nose is just red from the cold, and if I remember right the next thing on our itinerary is hot chocolate.” 

- 

“This, is a marshmallow shop.” 

“A marshmallow shop with some of the best hot chocolate in New York City,” you replied pointedly. You looked along the wall at all the bags of the different types of marshmallows. You couldn’t help the way that you were practically drooling. Squish Marshmallows had a variety of different marshmallow flavors: Rocky Road, peanut butter and jelly, tea and scones. 

“What could tea and scones even taste like?” You asked excitedly. Mingyu seemed just as intrigued as you did. 

“We can’t just get hot chocolate here,” Mingyu said, practically bouncing as he spoke. A complete 360 from his initial reaction upon seeing the store. “I never knew that I needed cookie dough marshmallows in my life, but now I know I do.” 

You laughed as Mingyu led you up to the counter, remembering what it was like to have Kim Mingyu match your energy.  

First ordering two cups of hot chocolate, both with your choice of marshmallow, and then ordering a variety of the different flavors for you two to try. You had to stop him after back tracking to get more than two of each flavor: 

“But what if we like them all so much we want more?” 

“Think about the calories Mingyu.” 

“What is the point of vacation if I’m thinking about calories?”  

“So, how long have you been planning this?” You asked softly. “Like, really.” 

“Thinking of what? Getting you back?” You didn’t respond so he mulled over what you had asked. “I think I was upset for about a month before I started to think about you. Like really think about you.” 

You two wandered around the Union Square Holiday Market, him stopping at a booth with little yarn bracelets. 

“I thought about what our relationship used to be like. Like I remembered you letting me come over after you got out of classes because I hadn’t gotten to see you all day. I remembered that you let me keep you up until five even thought you had an eight am.” 

Mingyu picked up one of the bracelets up, showing it to you: “Is this still your favorite color?”  

Your heart was pounding in your throat so hard that you couldn’t even open your mouth to answer. You just nodded. Mingyu smiled down at the bracelet, nodding slowly. 

“Real,” he whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. Before you could even realize he was doing it- Mingyu was buying the bracelet, and handing it straight to you. 

“So I already missed you and that was when I got an email reminder that I had booked this trip. And that is when I started to plan this.” 

Of course. 

“Months,” you mumbled softly, your fingers picking at the bracelet Mingyu had just given you. The bracelet that had been next to so many in a similar shade of the one in your hand. A bracelet that Mingyu had skimmed over a few times while he looked at the bracelets before finally setting on that one, that one perfect one. Because this wasn’t just your favorite color, it was near perfect to the exact shade down to the color code that you liked. 

How could he have remembered something like that about you? 

“Mingyu do you know how crazy it is to have been planning to convince me to go on a trip to New York city with you before... I don’t know, asking me to grab coffee with you and talk through our break up?” 

The question irritated Mingyu. 

“What do you expect? Me to sit you down in some coffee shop that will make me want to bang my fist into the wall and ask you if you cheated on me?” He asked you. 

“Well what do you expect?” You shot back at him. “What conversation do you think we will have in New York City that we wouldn’t have in that stupid coffee shop?” 

Mingyu’s nostrils flared a little bit. 

“Did you cheat on me?” He asked you. 

“No,” you pressed. You two were quiet before finally Mingyu pointed at a stand behind you, adorned in fancy lanterns, the green roof only a bit taller than him. 

“And do we have a lantern stand at your coffee shop?” He asked you. He pointed at the booth next to it. “Or a caricature stand?” 

Your eyes narrowed at Mingyu. 

“How do two people fight in New York City y/n?” 

You wanted to point out that technically, this was a fight. That no amount of christmas lights or kids walking past the two of you would make this not a fight.  

“New York City doesn’t make me love you again,” you said softly. A flash of hurt went through Mingyu’s eyes. 

“But New York City can make you fall back in love with me,” Mingyu replied. Your fingers twitched at your sides because it was hard enough to be in love with Mingyu and have to pretend you weren’t because this was all so stupid. The kind of stupid that only you and Mingyu could possibly have gotten caught up in. 

But instead, you leaned into what Mingyu had been trying to say earlier. 

“Are those... Are those not the most beautiful wooden ornaments you have ever seen?” You asked him, pointing behind him. When Mingyu didn’t respond, you pressed the issue. “No, Mingyu, these are so beautiful I think actually that your mom would love one.” 

The atmosphere between the two of you quickly evolved back into what it had been before, and that was perfect and just in time for the next item on your docket. 

“Street dogs!” You said excitedly rushing up to the carnival-esque hot dog stand on the side of the road. You bounced at the edge of the stand, waiting patiently for Mingyu to join you at your side, your eyes focused on the red and yellow sinage before you.  

“Nathan’s famous,” you said excitedly. “This is the next thing on the list right?” 

“Right you are,” he replied pointedly. “And after this George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker. Balcony seats.” 

You gasped, and you didn’t know why you were even surprised at this point. You slapped your hand against his chest. 

“That’s too expensive,” you insisted. 

“I figured we could spare a buck or two with how much money we’re spending on our meal before hand,” he replied, his tone high with jest. 

“You know that you’re crazy for this right?” You asked Mingyu.  He smiled down at you, still completely unbeknowst of the sullen mood that had suddenly overcome you. “I’m serious.” 

You shifted your wait and gestured, frustratedly at the New York City streets as if they had done something to offend you. 

“You can fool me with the other things. The plane ticket, the hotel room, even the broadway tickets- Which by the way I know you can easily just resale,” you stated pointedly. “But tickets to the Nutcracker?” 

“I’m not trying to hide anymore the fact that I made this trip happen,” Mingyu said, and his tone was still airy while yours was drowning in your own frustrations. “And whether or not my very brillant plan works, I will not regret the money I spend on this trip.” Your faced was painted in dismay. “And I will not regret the money I spend on these hot dogs.” 

“We are not dating,” you said back insistently. 

Frustration flickered across Mingyu’s face, while he was trying so hard not to fight. 

“Y/n, it’s just ballet tickets.” 

“You shouldn’t be spending money on the girl who cheated on you,” you stated bluntly. And again, Mingyu’s expression soured. 

“Y/n, don’t-” 

Someone suddenly bumped into Mingyu, causing him to inturn bump into you. His hands immediately went to your shoulders to help settle you. You two looked over at the person that had bumped into you two and it was curiously enough a Santa. He gave you an apologetic expression. 

“I’m so sorry to bump into you two,” he said softly. He let out a small but hearty laugh. “But it seems that you two don’t mind too much.” 

He sighed, sounding a bit exhausted. 

“Young love...” 

“Oh it’s not-” 

“But, oh, you won’t hear me complaining that much,” he continued, ignoring your protests. “Even though Mrs. Claus and I have our ups and downs sometimes even after all these years she still makes me feel like a teenager all over again.” 

He laughed again shaking his head. 

Neither you or Mingyu knew what to say but you didn’t have to because after only a few moments you heard the sound of christmas beels ringing. He reached down and pulled out a pocket watch. He tutted when he saw the time. 

“I’m always late,” he said with a shake of his head. Then his eyebrows furrowed and he gestured to the two of you. “And don’t you two have a ballet to catch?” 

Mingyu suddenly snapped out of his trance. 

“Oh! He’s right, we’re going to be late,” He said. He rushed over to the hot dog stand that lucky had no line nad quickly bought to hot dogs for the two of you. He shoved one into your handd. 

“Come on, we’ve got to go.” 

- 

You couldn’t be mad at Mingyu for the amount of money he had spent on you for too long, because when you started crying during the Nutcracker and you reached over to grab Mingyu’s hand and saw that he was actually crying harder than you were you remembered one of Mingyu’s finer points. 

He was one of the most caring people that you had ever met. Mingyu never let a single person around him feel uncared for, unless they were an absolutely horrrible person. He was able to make connections with anyone and everyone. The kind of person who saw someone crying on a sidewalk, would stop to talk to them, and would actually be able to comfort said person. 

When you two had first met that had been the reason you didn’t realize at first he liked you. Because the whining for attention, the offers to carry your things, the middle of the night texts to come over and play video games and actually playing video games screamed not only just friends in your face but also treats everyone this way. 

But then he asked you out and you realized that despite the fact he was nice to everyone, that niceness was different when it came to you. So at first, maybe the first few months with Mingyu you were jealous. Jealous of every girl that he talked to. Even jealous of his friends. 

And then it hit you that there was something different about you. Something that made you stand apart to Mingyu from all the other people. 

And even though you couldn’t see it, that was enough for you. 

And it had always been enough for you. 

And despite everything that thing that Mingyu saw that set you apart from others had made him continue to think about you even after he thought you had cheated on him. And it had made him think through what had happened. And it had made him doubt. And that was enough for you. 

You two were walking through the Dyker Heights with him, your shoulders brushing as you looked at the extravagant colorful lights decorating the houses. Mingyu kept letting your fingers brush, and while he pretended to be looking at the lights you knew that the only thing on his mind was you. 

You were a bit tired of pretending. 

You finally intertwined your hands together, feeling the giant man perk up at the touch. You sighed softly. 

“To be honest, I want to be with you,” you whispered. Mingyu’s fingers tigethened in your grasp. 

“Really?” He asked you softly. You looked back over at him, his face illuminated in red and blue lights. 

“Of course really,” you mumbled softly. You let out a small laugh, but there was pain concealed in it. “I thought you knew me.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh with you. 

“I do know you,” he said. “Y/n, did you cheat on me?” 

“No,” you insisted quickly. “I didn’t cheat on you! I didn’t even think about cheating on you. I don’t even know who the guy is.” 

Mingyu stared at you, seeming to note the desperation in your voice. 

“I told you already he’s Dasom’s friend,” he replied slwoly. 

“She’s never even mentioned him before!” You blurted back, the frustration rising. “Surely when I was balling my eyes out about the break up and about how I didn’t even know who that guy was she would have thought to mention that it was her friend.” 

Mingyu stared at you, his face molding into one of confusion. 

“What did you say?” 

You didn’t know what he was confused about. 

“That I was crying over our break up?” 

He shook his head, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“No, no not that. You said Dasom was there when you were crying about your break up.” 

Your frustration simmered. 

“Well, yeah? She’s my friend.” 

“No she’s not,” Mingyu said bluntly. Your face contorted more. 

“What the fuck Mingyu? Yes, she is? You got Soonyoung in the break up and I got Dasom and Hansol,” you replied slowly. Mingyu let out a small laugh. 

“No, I got Soonyoung and Dasom in the breakup,” he replied. 

Jingle bells was playing in the distant background as you tried to process what Mingyu was saying. 

“You’re still friends with Dasom?” You asked. 

“Dasom was the one who told me that you were cheating on me,” he said insistently. Despite the fact that you two were clearly talking about something serious. You know the reason that you two broke up, Mingyu was now fully laughing now. You were still confused, and you furrowed your nose, turning your head a bit. 

“Mingyu I don’t understand.” 

“Dasom made everything up.” 

Before you could ask him what he was trying to get at, Mingyu was pulling out his phone. His phone started to ring, and he put it on speaker phone. When a small hello rang out- Dasom, Mingyu put a single to his lips. 

“Dasom, you were right.” 

As soon as Mingyu started to talk his joyous expression dropped.  

“Why don’t I listen to you more? You told me that y/n cheated on me back then. You told me that cheaters never change. You told me that I would get hurt all I over again but I still came to New York and-” 

He interrupted himself with a very convincing choked sob, that made you really think he was crying. You worriedly made eye contact with him, and at that he gave you the biggest, most radiant smile, you had seen on his face in a while. 

He was a psycopath. 

“Mingyu, I’m so sorry,” Dasom’s voice came sympathetically, and you noticed that with it her voice was rising. “It’s so hard to accept and notice when you are being used. But it’s over now then, yeah? You can finally move on.” 

“What is it that you always say to me?” Mingyu asked, his voice sounding broken. “That promise you always say?” 

“I’ll pick up the pieces that y/n broke,” Dasom said immediately, not even pausing in thought. “I’ll always be there for you Mingyu. I love you, and I can and will treat you the way that you deserve to be treated.” 

Again that smile broke out on Mingyu’s face. He gestured to his phone as if something huge had been revealed. 

“I have to go Dasom,” Mingyu said, his voice still sounding completely wrecked. “I just... I just can’t believe I let y/n break my heart again.” 

“Take all the time you need Mingyu.” 

Mingyu clicked to end the call, and then without even letting you process what the fuck just happened, he was grabbing your phone from you, unlocking it because you had never changed the password, and was dialing Dasom’s number. 

As the phone began to ring he shoved it back in your hand. 

“You’re heart broken, you don’t understand why I don’t trust you, and you need support from your friend,” he explained quickly. And then Dasom was picking up the call. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong? You don’t usually call me?” 

You didn’t give yourself time to think. You just did the one thing that you had wished Mingyu did six months ago, and blindly trusted him. 

“Dasom, I don’t understand. He still thinks... He still thinks that I cheated on him,” you said, your voice hushed. You made sure to take appropriate pauses, making it sound like you were having trouble speaking. 

“Y/n... Hansol and I told you that this trip would only end badly.” 

“But I don’t understand!” You exclaimed, your voice rising. “He told me all that time ago that he loved me, and then he doesn’t even believe that I don’t even know who the guy is I was supposed to be cheating on!” 

Mingyu was looking at you, very seriously, paying attention to every word. 

“Who even is that person?” 

“I don’t know y/n. We won’t ever know now will we? You both know now surely. You’re better off without one another.” 

And then, finally what Mingyu had been trying to insinuate. The thing that he had already somehow figured out, crashed into you like a train. Your heart skipped a beat, and for just a second the world slowed. 

And you last your chance at an Oscar. 

“Oh my god... You broke us up.” 

The phone call was silent for a few moments, and then Dasom spoke. Her voice scarily even. 

“What?” 

“You broke us up,” you said again, your voice rising. “The only person who could have had access to my phone other than Mingyu or Hansol was you. You put those texts on my phone. You played it out to be your friend to make your plan more convincing. You pretended to be both of our friends just so that you could fucking get Mingyu.” 

There was silence on the call as your brain continued to rush to catch up with your thoughts. 

“Because you’re in love with him.” 

More silence, and you looked up at Mingyu, not even realizing tears were streaming down your face. 

“You two are together... Aren’t you?” Dasom asked. 

“I thought we were friends,” you said, and you didn’t have to pretend that you were heart broken this time. You really were. 

“I saw Mingyu first y/n,” Dasom blurted with an anger that you didn’t even know that she had. “He loves you so much he was fucking blind. That’s not fair! It should have been me. I had to feed him so many lies, and convince Soonyoung that complete no contact was better just so that I could keep Mingyu from realizing the truth.” 

Her voice was shaking even over the phone. 

“But you two are both so fucking stupid. Who goes on a Christmas weekend trip to New York City with their fucking ex?” 

“Dasom-” Mingyu said, taking your phone from your hand. He turned the phone off speaker and turned away from you, his voice dropping a few octaves, so that you couldn’t hear what he said. And then, after about a minute of hushed conversation, your phone was being slid back into your hand. 

Tears streamed down your face, and Mingyu leaned forward, his thumbs brushing the tears off of your face. 

“Y/n...” He let you cry there. Brushing the tears off of your cheeks before they could drip all the way down your chin. Your body shook as you tried to comprehend the emotions you were feeling. 

The fact that Dasom had been lying to you for so long made you so completely upset. The fact that she was willing to manipulate you because of unrequited love hurt even worse. But then, you were in New York City at Christmas with the love of your life, and he had been so hard to manipulate that after six months her lies no longer worked. 

The tears slowly stopped streaming and Mingyu’s hands took your face in his. He leaned close to you, his nose brushing yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have trusted you. I should have completely and fully trusted you.” 

You didn’t say that you couldn’t have expected that from him. You didn’t tell him that you were both the victims really. Instead, your ears zoned in on the song playing in the distance. 

I really can’t stay... Baby, it’s cold outside 

A laugh erupted through your body. 

“This song is so creepy Mingyu,” you said. His lips flickered into a smile and he seemed to focus on the faint lyrics as well. 

“This evening has been,” he sang along with the words, taking your hands in his. “So very nice.” 

You laughed at him, but you let him start to drag you into a small little dance on the sidewalk. As you two drifted together, a few other couples began to do the same thing as you. Each of them pulling their partner close into a slow dance along with the melody of a frankly predatory song. 

And yet, as you looked up at Mingyu, all you could think about was how lucky you were for this trip. 

“Mingyu,” you said softly, your lips pulling up at the corners. “I don’t know if this is still on the table but if you wanted to go out again-” 

Mingyu interrupted you before you could finish, dragging you into a passionate kiss. You laughed against his lips, slapping his chest. 

“I was about to say that I don’t want to date you-“ 

Another kiss, and you were still laughing and pushing away from him. 

“I’m serious Mingyu I think we’re much better at being exe-“ 

He interrupted you with another kiss, and once he had properly stolen the breath from your lungs he was speaking. 

“Y/n we are awful at being exes,” he said lightly. “Exes don’t spend Christmas together in New York City.” 

You couldn’t hide the stupid gummy smile on your lips, and you couldn’t help nod along with him. 

“We truly are awful exes,” you agreed. “So I’m super glad that we are together again-” 

Mingyu smiled so hard you thought his face was gonna break. 

“We are together again,” he said gummily. “For our first date… Have you ever heard of a New York City Christmas Miracle Pop-up bar?” 

- 

Everything was perfect. 

As terrifying as it was to say so. The Miracle Pop-up bar was just as beautiful as Dyker Heights had been. The christmas lights were practically blinding, and the walls of the makeshift bar were lined in tinsel. When you looked up along with sparkling white snowflakes there were faux wrapped presents hanging from the ceiling. 

In the past you had wondered what kinds of lonely people went to a bar on Christmas Eve. But this Christmas eve? Your shoulder brushing Mingyu’s as he played pool against a different couple one from Texas, you understood that in New York City? A bar on Christmas Eve was just the place to be. 

When Mingyu had lost his pool game and needed comforting you two had found a somewhat quiet spot in the bustling bar and spent hours just catching up. 

You told Mingyu everything you had missed, all the people that you had met that you couldn’t wait for him to see. All the things that had happened you were sad he missed. All the work gossip about your coworkers that he still remembered every detail about. 

And by the time that you two were leaving the bar and you two were walking down the street, you didn’t think things could get any better. 

“Y/n it’s snowing.” 

Before you could stop him Mingyu had taken off down the sidewalk. He slipped a little on the exact thing he was excited about but he regained his balance almost immediately and then made his way into what looked to be a park. 

You laughed and chased after him- A bit more careful than he was though. You slipped anyways when you got into the snow-covered grass, and fell into a small pile with an audible oof. 

You were thinking that surely your heroic, white knight, boyfriend who you hadn’t really been around in six months would come running to your rescue but instead a cold pack of snow hit your face. You let out an astonished laugh, looking over at Mingyu. 

“Hey-” 

“Merry Christmas!” He called out, as if he hadn’t just thrown snow in your face. You scrambled to your feet, scooping up some snow in your own hands.  

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” you bit back. Mingyu must have seen the determination spread over your face and realized that he had messed up. He started to try to barter for his dry clothes but just as he started to talk a snow ball was hitting his face and it was over for you two. 

You were sure as the two of you made your way into the hotel, jackets wet and half off that all the attendants thought that you two were drunk, but as you two burst into your hotel room, absolutely freezing from the cold, you knew that there wasn’t a drop of alochol in your system. 

And remembering what Mingyu had said to you the night before you were glad that the two of you hadn’t drank at the bar. 

As soon as the hotel room door clicked behind you, you were being shoved against it. Mingyu’s lips on your lips, and his hands pressing your wet clothes off. You raised your hands to his head, pulling at his strands of hair as he tried to get your clothes off. 

“Y/n you’re so warm,” he mumbled against you, his head dipping to kiss the nape of your neck. You shivered. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you hadn’t dragged me into-” As you spoke Mingyu’s fingers dipped into your pants, and without a second thought he pushed two fingers deep into you. “-The snow.” 

“No... You’re always this warm,” he said, his tone hushed. “Especially when I have my hands on you.” 

A whimper ripped through your body, and your fingers gripped desperately at Mingyu’s shoulders. 

“Oh Mingyu, fu-”  

“Where you with anyone?” Mingyu asked you softly, his expression zereoed in on you. You could barely think enough to answer because no you had not and it had been so long since anyone had touched you but yourself that you had forgotten how good it felt. 

And Mingyu wasn’t making it easier to answer. His fingers began to slowly push in and out of your pussy which had been soaked way before he had gotten you into this hotel room, but now it was to the point that you were almost uncomfortable. You wiggled under his grasp, trying to remember how to think or breathe but all you were thinking about was if Mingyu’s cock was as big as you remembered... 

Mingyu suddenly raised a hand to your chin, and he squeezed your face there between his fingers, forcing your face to look at his. 

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he said, his voice urging you to listen to what he was saying. Something about his words made that aching for his touch even worse. 

“I can’t talk right now,” you managed to get out. Mingyu didn’t stop slowly easing his fingers in and out of you. Not teasing you. No... He was stretching you out. BUt he was taking his time with it. 

You did not want him to. 

You began to desperately push at his shirt, trying to push it off his body. But when you realized you couldn’t get it off with his hand in your pants, you were trying to get his pants off instead. 

“I need you so badly Mingyu, I need you so bad.” 

Your words were a desperate whine at the tip of your tongue, and it made Mingyu laugh at you. 

“It’s been that long?” He asked you teasingly. You gave him a very serious look. 

“Six months is too long,” you said bluntly. His expression sombered a bit and he nodded. 

“Six months is too long,” he agreed. 

Without telling each other to, you both suddenly separated, began to rip off one another’s clothes. You two were, for once, almost as in sync as you two had been when you were dating. When you were struggling to get off your shirt, Mingyu stopped to help you rip it off. He paused to press a kiss to you and then immediately he had pulled away so that you could rip his shirt off, before the two of you were finally naked. 

Mingyu paused once his clothes were off, and your clothes were off. He was staring at you, with the look of someone who was so in love with you he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

But you didn’t need someone to look at you like he was in love with you right now. You needed someone to look at you like they needed to be inside of you. You pushed Mingyu back onto the bad, climbing into his lap as soon as he was there. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your lips against Mingyu’s in a desperate air sucking kiss. Mingyu happily let himself be dragged into it, and as you kissed him, his hands found your ass. 

“I wonder what all has changed in the last six months...” He whispered against your lips. You mostly ignored him in favor of grinding yourself down on his cock. Wanting it inside of you so badly you could scream. “Are you still into this?” 

His hand suddenly came down on your ass. You yelped, but it turned into a whimper that had your forehead pressing to Mingyu’s as you tried to keep yourself from sliding him into you yourself. 

That was answer enough for him. 

“Oh you are.” 

His fingers slid a bit, and slipped back inside of you. You whined at the stretch of his fingers because this time there were three. 

You rolled your hips down on Mingyu’s fingers, trying to force them deeper into you. Mingyu laughed. 

“Y/n, you’ve never been so desperate for cock,” he teased you lightly. Before you could respond his head had dipped and he had nipped a spot on you that had always been particularly sensitive. You slammed your hand over your mouth, letting out a sob of desperation. 

“And I see that I still remember that about you,” he mumbled softly. You wanted to hit him because now wasn’t a time for experimenting on what he remembered you liked and if you still liked it, but instead you pulled your hand away from your mouth and leaned back. 

“Mingyu, please, please, please,” you begged. “Cock, I need your cock.” 

You reached down between the two of you, taking his cock in your hand. You had been dripping all over it, so once your hand was on it your fingers were sliding across its length with ease. You tipped it up a bit, and it hit your clit. 

Your forehead hit Mingyu’s. 

“Oh god, Gyu I need it now.” 

Mingyu’s fingers slipped out of you. 

“Whatever you need baby.” 

You couldn’t have lined yourself up with his cock faster. You started to push yourself down on him fast- But you quickly slowed down your pace because despite the three fingers inside of you, it was still a bit of a stretch. 

As soon as the tip of his cock was inside of you however, you had leaned forward, catching his lips so that you could hide your pathetic whines. But while the kiss did contain your whines and moans to a minimum, they did not conceal how badly you felt like you needed Mingyu right now. 

Because as you kissed him and lowered yourself down on his cock, your hands were all over his chest and his neck and his face, and in his hair, drowning him in a kiss that was so intense whenever you two had a chance to breath, you were gasping for air. 

And you didn’t slow down when you had gotten all the way down on his cock. In fact, when you started to fuck yourself on Mingyu’s cock you only started to sound more desperate. 

Your whine’s became nearly indistinguishable to moans, and your pace was inconsistent. Anytime that you felt like you just couldn’t fuck yourself on his cock anymore you were rolling your hips down on him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you, hearing his own whines escape his lips. 

“Y/n, if you keep this up-” His voice was broken. “I’m going to do something inside of you that I really shouldn’t do.” 

One of his hands tightened on your hips to slow you down, but you deterred that by grabbing both of his cheeks in your hands. You probably sounded a bit crazy when you blurted out: “Do it.” 

But it made a whimper escape Mingyu’s lips that made you feel as crazy as you sounded. 

“Do it Mingyu, fucking come inside of me, please. It’s been six months since I was even touched like this. I need it-” 

You interrupted yourself because you could feel Mingyu’s cock twitching inside of you and you knew that you had said enough. Your lips collided with Mingyu’s again, but his orgasm was ripping through him so intensely that he couldn’t even focus on that. So you just bit at his bottom lip, forcing yourself to keep fucking him as his cock spurted cum deep inside of your pussy. 

Your fingers tugged at the roots of his hair as your orgasm began to approach, but before you could hit it. Mingyu’s hands were stilling you. You cried out in desperation at the sudden stop, but before you could complain you were being flipped. 

Your back hit the bed, and Mingyu’s hands were on your hips again, pulling you close to him sharply. 

“I remember that you like this.” 

To be fully honest, he could have done anything to you and you would have liked it. But Mingyu pressed his hand down on your stomach and fucked you so hard that you were coming under him in mere seconds. 

Even if you had wanted to keep yourself together, you couldn’t have. You were making grabby hands at him as you came underneath him, so loud that you thought you would get complaints- Did people even make noise complaints in hotels? But Mingyu didn’t kiss you again until you had stopped shaking underneath of him. 

He stilled himself, burying his cock deep inside of you as he came all over again. As soon as Mingyu was close enough that you could shove him down onto you, you were. You two became a mess as you continued to kiss him like your life depended on it, and that kissin did not make the burning in the pit of your stomach go away. 

You flipped yourself back ontop of Mingyu, taking in the blissed expression on his face. 

“We’re going to make up for six months in one night,” you said suddenly, your hands pressing down on his chest so that he was still under you. Mingyu gave you a wide-eyed smile. 

“Whatever you say.” 

- 

When you woke up the next morning Mingyu wasn’t there. It felt like it had felt every single day for the last six months for about two seconds. And then Mingyu was leaving the bathroom, fully naked with a towel drying his hair like he was the main male lead. 

When he saw you looking his smile grew. 

“Oh sorry, did you want to take a shower with me.” 

Your face burned at the implication, and you looked over at the time on the clock on the nightstand. You squinted. 

“Where is breakfast today?” You asked him softly. He began to rummage through his luggage. 

“Here,” he replied. You heard him getting his clothes together, and you resisted the urge to look at him because it meant that you were going to want to stop him from putting those clothes on. 

“Then we don’t have a lot of time left,” you said with a soft groan. You let your head hit the pillow again. “Breakfast at hotels are too early.” 

Your eyes fluttered open in time to see Mingyu leaning down to kiss you. You couldn’t help the way you let yourself be physically pulled out of bed, chasing after his lips even as he pulled away. 

“If I could make breakfast stay open longer for you,” Mingyu promised lightly. 

“Even if you could,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “We have a schedule to keep?” 

“That we do.” 

Even though breakfast at a fancy hotel meant you weren’t the ones making your own waffles, they didn’t taste quite as good as the breakfast’s that you two had been having. Not that it really mattered. It was still breakfast. An amazing breakfast. With every food group, and Mingyu was picking food off of your plate, and it was enough to remind you of sleepovers in the past. 

And it made you unbelivably happy. 

After breakfast you two bundled back up, Mingyu wrapping your scarf around your neck as you shimmied in your shoes. And then you two were checking off just another one of your New York City wishlist boxes. 

Central Park. Central Park, covered in fluffy, white snow. 

It sounded a bit cheesy, but looking around at the ice sparkling on the tree limbs it reminded you of Narnia. With the old fashioned lightposts, and the pure emptiness of it all. Other than the random other couple, it was really just you and Mingyu there walking through the snow. Talking about good times, remembering the good times. 

“Mingyu, I can’t... I can’t emphasis enough how perfect this trip was,” you said softly. “I mean, even when we were planning it, this was a dream trip. The perfect trip. Everything down to the second.” 

Mingyu nodded slowly. 

“You did an amazing job planning it,” he agreed. You sighed. 

“But this trip would have been nothing without you,” you insisted. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “You mean everything to me.” 

Mingyu nodded slowly, his other hand fidgeting around in his pocket. 

“You mean it?” He asked you softly. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit. 

“Of course I do,” you said softly. 

“But do you mean it,” Mingyu asked again. “Outside of this. Christmas, and New York, and the memories of what we used to have. Can you really actually, honestly see a future with me.” 

You thought about your relationships prior to Mingyu’s, and you thought about what it had been like to be with Mingyu. Sure when you broke up with people before you had been sad, and you had been wanting them back, but yif you thought about it right now. If you put all those people back in a room together and they all told you that they were in love with you and that you wanted them back there was only one person that you could really imagine saying yes to. 

“I’ve always been able to see a future with you,” you said honestly. Mingyu’s lips flickered into a small smile. “But what about you Mingyu? You thought I cheated on you, how do you know those feelings aren’t ever going to come back?” 

Mingyu nodded slowly at your question, his eyes very briefly trailing away from yours. 

“Because it’s you,” he said. “Outside of New York, and Christmas, and missing you the person that I have wanted to spend my life with has always been you. Did you know that? Do you know how long I have known that I wanted to be with only you for the rest of my life?” 

You shook your head blankly. 

“Since Hansol first introduced the two of us,” Mingyu said. “I don’t know... I know it’s stupid to believe in love at first sight-” 

You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit because of course he would say something dumb like this, and of course you knew that he meant it to his core, and of course it made your heart skip a beat. 

“But I think that the first time I saw you I knew that you were the one that I wanted to be with.” 

Mingyu leaned down to you, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your freezing nose. You smiled up at him, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. 

“Mingyu-” 

“Hey, look at that,” Mingyu interrupted. He pointed over your shoulder and you looked towards where he had pointed, wondering what was so important to him that he interrupted your moment. You stared into Central Park. At the snow, at the trees... You didn’t see anything. 

“Mingyu, what am I supposed to be looking for?” You asked him, a laugh in your voice because of course Kim Mingyu would have seen something tiny in Central Park that would completely distract him from the moment that you two were having. 

“Oh, nothing over there.” 

Your confusion grew, and you turned around and the sight before you made your heart promptly stop. For one... Two... Three... 

“Oh my god.” 

Mingyu was on one knee in the snow, his gloves discarded next to him in the snow so that his hands were out. He had a small box in his hands, open, showing off what could only be described as your dream ring. 

You took a step back, your hand covering your mouth. 

“Mingyu-” 

“Y/n I love you,” Mingyu interrupted, his eyes red as he looked up at you. “I’m sorry for everything these last six months, but I know now and have always known that no matter what I want you to be the person I spend the rest of my life with.” 

He nervously glanced down at the ring in his hand. 

“So much so that I bought this ring shortly after we started dating,” he said, a twinge of embarrassment in his voice. “And so much so that I never returned it. Even after we broke up.” 

His eyes flickered back up to yours, and he shrugged a little. 

“Six months is a really long time, y/n, and I never ever want to be apart from you for that long again.” He laughed. “So, if you could make me the happiest man-” 

You interrupted him before he could say the corniest most overdone sentence in the book. 

“Yes,” you blurted, surging forward so that you could wrap your arms around Mingyu. “Yes, okay, I’ll marry you.”  

You were laughing as your knees hit the snow, and as you grabbed Mingyu’s face and kissed him. And as he tried to take your gloves off of your hand so that he could slide the ring he had gotten you onto it. 

“This trip-” You asked hushedly, watching the ring slide onto your finger. 

“Was always meant to be the one that ended with you having a ring on your finger,” he said softly. He wrapped his hands around yours. “I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.” 

He was laughing. 

“But you knew I wouldn’t,” you whispered back. He nodded. 

“I knew you wouldn’t,” he agreed. He leaned in again, to kiss you and you let him. 

You couldn’t believe it the rest of the day. When you two got Chinese food in China town, or when you walked out onto time square you still couldn’t believe that you were now engaged. 

And a dark part of you thought for sure that when the two of you landed back home, things were going to be hard. But when you thought about that, and you looked at Mingyu all you could think was that every difficult moment would be worth it right by Mingyu’s side. And so in the end you didn’t really mind. 

-

Taglist:

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#19k words #merry christmas #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt fanfiction #seventeen smut #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fanfiction #hallmark #HALLMARK HIRE ME PLEASE #i think there was a lot i wanted to say but i’ve been at this for almost four hours straight trying to get this done #and i’m so exhausted #YAY THIS FIC SURVIVED MY ‘i’ll finish it and publish it next year’ CURSE #EVERYONE SAY YAY #ya-😴

[ceilidho]

prompt: (loosely based on Brahms from The Boy) you buy a house. you start to suspect you're not alone in it. [PART 1] tw: death of a parent, someone living in your house

-

Lightness; there were cracks in the floorboards and light glittering up from beneath them, which is what you first notice about the house.

It would be poetic if it meant anything. Instead, you are forced to pry the planks of wood out one by one at dawn when your fingers are trembling with exhaustion and your clipped nails throb—and, of course, there’s nothing remarkable beneath where the light shines through.

A piece of glass from a picture frame—all right, so you wonder how a piece of glass the size and width of your hand gets caught beneath the floor with the ashes of the photo once held behind it, but it’s half-six o’clock and you’re still yawning from the long drive the day before—catches a glint of light, and, well, you sigh at the blood welling over your nails from having pried off the floorboards with your bare hands. 

You’ll replace the boards later. Maybe bandage your hand.

It’s so quiet outside this early. Everything smells just as it should.

It had taken years of scrimping and saving, storing every nickel and penny away in your piggybank to buy your first house. The foreclosure process takes about ten months, every second during which your nails bite into your palms when you close your fists. Your entire life savings goes into the downpayment. It quite literally takes your bank account, holds it upside down, and shakes until every coin falls out. 

It’s yours though. A house all to yourself after years of living in apartments—you’ve spent decades living out of a suitcase, your parents changing apartments every year almost, never settling in one place. Buying a house wasn’t a nice-to-have so much as a physical necessity for you. 

It’s an old house—plenty of character, as the real estate lady charmingly describes it when you showed you the place. You don’t have the money quite yet to replace the old windows, repair the drywall, brick up the chimney that you won’t use, or change the flooring, but since it’s just you, you don’t mind taking your time. The previous owners hadn’t really kept the place up; there’s even a panel at the back of the closet in your room leading into the walls that needs to be replaced.

Later, when folding your clothes into new drawers that smell of new wood and old wood, you startle, thinking you’d packed your mother’s underwear along with your own; you thought you’d donated everything after she died. The thought is nauseating (a cold sweat breaks out) until you recognize the pattern on the blue cotton as your own and you crumple the fabric between your fingers for a second, dried blood and all. 

Dawn is rising outside, emptying out the house until it’s just you and the fifteen pairs of underwear you’d packed days ago. Everything else is sitting out on the patio in cardboard boxes. When you finally get the rest out where it can breathe, morning has settled into midday. 

When you finish putting your clothes away, you’re careful not to move for another few minutes until your hands stop shaking and your jaw unclenches. For breakfast, you fix up an omelet with spinach and a glass of cranberry juice. A friend calls not long later, but they mainly speak about their husband and how the living room will look once it was stripped of the gaudy floral wallpaper and repainted. Your friend hasn’t even seen the house yet, only pictures of the house from when you had searched it on Google Maps and tentatively held the idea glass-like in your head for several days. 

Your friend says in a voice molasses thick, “I’ll visit as soon as you’re tucked in down there.” It makes you rub your nose against your sleeve.

The pictures online had been splotchy and dim, barely recognizable when held against the lightness of the house full-formed. Your friend had sent you off with cream and lilac paint swatches, wooden coasters, and a copy of Ulysses before you had packed up the last of your things into the back of your car and the sky had been aglow with sunset. A large sunset that dribbled down the horizon and slid all slippery smooth into twilight. Your friend’s face had been lovingly shadowed in their goodbye, the sort of shadow that cut her jaw just so, and made one seem so private and longing. Like an instance of specific longing. 

It’s a good morning though, and you bite the inside of your cheek through the whole phone call, not stumbling over frequent ‘I love you’s and ‘I already miss you’s, but feeling like maybe you should. Anyway, your friend hangs up long before you know whether to carry those thoughts out. 

Then it’s still again in your unfurnished little bedroom—in one corner, there’s a rolled up carpet and end table that you’d brought in earlier, but they sit there unaltered and you think that maybe later you’ll get around to doing something with them. 

No one else calls while you eat breakfast, cutting the omelet into irregular triangles and putting enough hot sauce to make your eyes water. Which they do, but it’s good. After eating, you grab a mug out of one of the boxes on the patio to make a cup of instant coffee.

You fix the floorboards back after, nailing them back in place while sipping the lukewarm coffee that is still so, so good. So, so good to you because it’s early, so on one hand it’s comforting, habitually speaking, but also because the house is so new and old that sometimes you breathe in and feel lightheaded, or like your heart might tremble so violently that it’ll reduce itself to dust. 

So, coffee is good. Keeps you steady on your feet when you’re climbing back up the stairs to lug more boxes into the bedroom. Boxes of books you didn’t want to unpack, so they sit under a beam of sunlight in front of the one window in the room and you sit yourself down next to it, curling your legs underneath you and resting your head against the box. 

Strange, that the house is so warm when it’s nearly the end of October and it’s not like this city is all that different from the one you left. That the shard of glass you’d found beneath the floorboards could fill you with such a dizzying amount of melancholy (you still have it in the pocket of your sweater, which had deep pockets, deep pockets that apparently you use to carry around pieces of glass); again, though, the house is so warm and your bones are oozing out onto the carpet you unroll. Everything in you feels molten and fluid. 

Your spirit roars into the light of this new town with its new air, its new terrain, its new immediacy. Stepping out into the street outside the house, you feel every nerve in your body tremble in the realization of this new sensory landscape. Your fingertips buzz—you could reach out and touch every surface you pass: the wood-grain of a park bench, the sleek chrome of a chain-link fence. 

The town feels unreal in a sensuous way. When you go out to explore the town after unpacking the majority of your belongings, you can’t help being drawn down streets and up alleyways, eyes trailing over the russet bricked houses and hedges dotting the front lawns. 

On the corner of a street, nearly three blocks from your house, there’s a café with houseplants almost spilling out of the door and windows; you duck inside and order a coffee and a bagel before tucking yourself into a corner by the window. 

On the street across from the café, a woman in a yellow raincoat walks by. 

“Drip coffee?” 

You look up from your seat, startled almost by the voice, at a young man. He has a flare of freckles and an unsure smile.  

“Yes, sorry,” you mumble, taking the mug from him and tucking yourself back against the window in almost the same moment. 

To be sitting in plain daylight without company or a book or your phone out in front of you feels absurdly barren. Anyone might walk by and perceive the desperation that seems to pour off you. Even the few other occupants in the café are occupied with something or other, eyes pulled down to their tables or to someone sitting across from them. 

For a spell, walking home in the daze of the possibility of new peace, you feel light; to be poised on the verge of new possibilities and peering out over the edge, cautiously but with a ray of hope. Even the air feels fresh.

The lightness, of course, cannot last long.

Days before you left, someone told you that it’s common to have nightmares in a new house. You prove them right on the first night. 

In the wake of a bad dream, you pad into the kitchen, illuminated only by the moonlight, for a glass of water, reduced to only the silvering edges of your skin in the dark room. 

Occasionally it happens that you dream of your mom, in her blue jeans and raincoat again, standing outside the old coffee house from back home. She always looks well rested, and that always stings somehow—it makes you feel like you’re unraveling, even in a dream. She never says anything to you or even looks your way, but you know that she knows you’re there, and that dawdling energy, obvious indifference, is all a measured hurt. You dream of your mom staring off into the red-gold distance, honey-gold herself, irreducible in this place. 

Then, you wake up, panting and squeezing your eyes shut. 

You pour yourself a glass of water, but the tears don’t stop, coming out of you like a divine flooding. 

The two of you hadn’t been on speaking terms in the months before her death. In fact, you hadn’t even known she was dying. You remember you had an argument almost a year before, but for the life of you, you can’t remember what it was about. It was that inconsequential. That inconsequential and still she let it simmer and fester and didn’t bother to tell you that she was dying until it was too late. 

You scrub your eyes with the back of your hand, smearing the salty tears across your skin. In the moonlight, your grief seemed inescapable, layered under the lowest level of your flesh. All the loneliness of lonely dwelling catching in your throat, bursting out like the last release of breath of a woman beneath the swell of a cresting wave. The moon is not a comfort; the sky rounded in with its indifference, wholly incapable of putting any sentiment to rest. You feel languid in this old grief. 

Unable to bear being inside, you venture out onto the porch for a bit, closing only the screen door behind you. There’s a single light still on in your bedroom, the house otherwise dark. You sit in the cool breeze until your tears dry. 

There is something entirely relaxing about watching a breeze push all of the trees to one side—like the world moves with one breath, one thought. Back when you lived in the city, you hadn’t lived in such close proximity to nature, used to the concrete landscape. In the city, everything seemed to exist at opposing speeds and modes of existence—everything perpetually at odds.

You stare out into the street and drink your water, leisurely pacing around your front lawn. Just taking in the feeling of being settled for once. It’s a safe neighborhood. It’s an old house, a real fixer upper, but it’s a neighborhood where you can just walk around at night. 

It takes a while to unwind, to shake off the nightmare. You know it finally has when a yawn forces its way out of you and your eyes water again, from exhaustion this time. Draining your glass, you turn around to make your way back inside. You pause. Your foot hovers in place.

Then, in the shadowy depths of your house, you think you see something move again.

#simon ghost riley #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghost cod

[blingblong55]

Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like

--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---

A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic

He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job. 

They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list. 

Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down. 

You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe. 

"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door. 

A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head. 

For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.  

His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture. 

That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you. 

And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season. 

You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him. 

"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you. 

Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true. 

Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.

"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered. 

As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks. 

One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough. 

He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper. 

No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months. 

My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.

A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Falling for you

Summary: When you decided to bring your daughter to Colombia to work for the CIA to take Pablo Escobar down, you never thought you would find someone to fall in love with....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 6.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: colleagues to friends to lovers, reader has a daughter, mentions of dead husband, death of best friend, angst, fluff, domestic Javi, kissing, smut (unprotected sex), feeeeeelings

A/N: This fic has been in the making for almost 2 years. I can't really explain why, but it took a long time and before I keep on editing it, I put it out in the world. I'm aware the last thing the CIA would do is send a single mother with her child to Columbia in the eighties but this is fiction and I don't want to hear complaints lol Also please let me know how you like the mood boards this year. I'm trying to change things up

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“He’s starring again.” You looked up from the file you were reading, looking at your partner Enrique before you let your eyes wander to the desk across the room. You had been here in Colombia for a good three months now. It might have been the worst idea you ever had to take your daughter with you to one of the most dangerous countries in the world, but it was not like something was holding you back in the states. 

You were used to the looks of all the men who thought they were more important than you. 

More intelligent than you.

The whispers behind your back. 

The catcalls. 

How they always tried to talk over you. But they didn’t know what you knew. They didn’t know the resources you had. Working as one of the few women at the CIA as an active agent took a lot from you. But you did it for the greater good. You did not talk to many of the men working in your department. Except for your partner Enrique and your supervisor. You and Enrique had been working together back in the states and him coming with you was one of the conditions you had before you agreed to go. You needed someone you could trust if you would work here to help to take down the biggest drug cartel in the world. You needed someone you could trust your daughter with, apart from the two nannies the CIA was providing all around the clock. 

Of course the safer and easier way would have been to stay back in the states. Where your daughter could play outside without being watched by at least one CIA Agent. But ever since your husband died almost four years ago on a mission, you had been searching for the change you needed in your life. And against all better judgement you found yourself agreeing to go and take your six year old daughter Eva with you to Colombia. Was it crazy? Obviously. Did it still feel like the right decision? Absolutely.

Javier Peña was looking at you, a cigarette between his lips. The first three buttons of his baby blue shirt were open and his finger kept rubbing over the side of his face. You nodded at him before you focused back on the files in front of you.

“Do you think he would still look at you like that if he knew about Eva?” Enrique whispered. You rolled your eyes. 

“He can look at me all he wants. I know how good I look today,” you chuckled and made him laugh. You were wearing a white silk blouse and dark red dress pants.

You did enjoy flirting with Javier Peña. 

He and his partner Steve were the only ones around here who actually talked to you. And in Javier’s case, try to get into your pants. And a part of you did enjoy the attention you got for him.

No one had looked at you like he did since your late husband. 

And even though you knew it was dangerous to entertain his flirtations, you found yourself doing it. You found yourself thinking about him more often, even though you knew that nothing would ever come out of it. He was, well, he was Javier Peña. Fucking everything that just looked his way and you were a widowed single mom. 

Of course you did enjoy it when he invited you for a drink after work at the bar around the corner. Who wouldn’t enjoy being invited for a drink by a handsome man? The problem you had was that he knew exactly how handsome he was and he knew how to use it. Because deep down, in the moments Javier Peña was just himself and not the guarded DEA Agent with commitment issues, you could see him as a man you could fall in love with.

“Why did we end up in this shithole again?” Enrique asked. You were about to answer when Carillo came back in, shouting in Spanish and everyone around got up and moved.

“What’s happening?” You asked, internally cursing yourself for not knowing more Spanish.

“Something about La Quico and a brothel?” 

There was something about La Quico and a brothel and you knew from the moment you heard about the intel and the plan that it would go to shit. Now, as you were standing outside, bulletproof vest still on, watching how body after body was carried out of the building, you kept shaking your head. 

If any of these fuckers would have just listened to you. 

Woman after woman was carried out. Dead. But your knees almost gave out when you saw your partner's lifeless body being carried out. Hugging yourself, you looked away from him and up to the sky to stop yourself from crying, They did not need to see you crying. You would wait to break down until you were home and after your daughter was tucked it.

You felt someone stand next to you.

“I’m sorry,” Javier said and you breathed in deeply, not looking away from the sky.

“It’s not your fault,” you answered quietly. Because it wasn’t. Javier actually had been more than vocal about what a shit idea this was in the first place.

“I’m still sorry,” you smelled the smoke he breathed out and you finally looked at him. He looked as tired as you felt. You reached for the cigarette between his lips inhaling the smoke yourself, before you handed it back to him. Steve came to stand beside him, the same tired expression on his face.

“I think we could all use a drink,” he said and you sighed.

“He’s been my partner for more than 8 years. And my friend for almost 20,” you shook your head, looking at Steve before your eyes fell back on Javier.

“I really wanna go home.” 

“We’ll take you.” Steve said.

You could still see the lights on in your daughters room and you sighed. You weren’t ready to tell her that her Uncle Ric wouldn’t be helping her with her Spanish skills anymore, that he wouldn’t help her paint her bedroom after he made the big plan for her to get her jungle book room.

“I’ll walk you in,” Javier said as the car stopped. You only nodded, saying your thanks to Steve as you stepped out and walked across the street. 

“Are you okay on your own tonight?” He asked, as you opened the door to the house, walking in. Javier kept following you.

“I’m not alone, and I am planning on getting drunk and then cry myself to sleep. It’s Saturday tomorrow right?” You asked and he nodded. 

“I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” Javier said quietly. You felt the tears in the corner of your eyes and you prayed he would just turn around and leave. You just nodded, your lips already trembling. The reality of how alone you felt hit you like a brick as you looked at the apartment door across from yours, where Enrique lived… used to live. 

“Please go Javier. I don’t need you to see me breaking down,” you pleaded and turned away from him, putting the key into the lock of your apartment.

He sighed before he said your name. You felt his hand on your shoulder and against your better judgement you turned around and let him pull you against him, as you sobbed into his shirt.

You blamed it on the loss of your best friend, the need to feel something, that you just leaned in, your ear on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his hands rubbed soothingly over your back.

“You are going to get through this,” he whispered. You enjoyed this moment. Standing outside of your apartment in his arms. He wasn’t being a flirt. He was just there to comfort you. You breathed in deeply, his scent in your nose and you had never noticed just how good he smelled.

“Thank you Javier,” you whispered and brought some distance in between you. Looking up into his tired eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you, you were more than grateful when you heard footsteps behind your door. Untangling yourself from him you brushed your tears away and put a smile on your lips just in time before the door opened. Eva jumped into your arms as you turned around.

“I missed you Mommy!” She giggled and you felt yourself smile as you picked her up and carried her in your arms.

“I missed you too, princess,” you whispered into her hair, before you set her down.

Looking up you saw Maria standing there with a tired smile on her lips. 

“I tried everything Miss, but she wanted to wait until you’re home.” 

“It’s okay. Thank you,” you nodded at her. She looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding Javier standing in your door as if he was out of place. Maria nodded at him as she said her goodbyes. He stepped out of her way as she left.

“Either in or out Pena,” you said. He looked at you, about to open his mouth when Eva came back with a painting she had made today.

“Who is that?” She asked looking at Javier.

“That is one of the Agents I’m working with,” you explained nodding at him. He still looked between you and Eva like a fish out of the water before he shook out of it.

“I’m Javi. And I should go before my partner drives off without me,” he said the last words looking at you. You nodded.

“Bye Javi. Thanks for bringing my mom home safe,” Eva smiled, and you sighed.

“Go brush your teeth, I’ll tuck you in in just a moment, okay?” You smiled down at her, your hands brushing over her cheek before you leaned down to kiss her forehead. She nodded, waving towards Javier and left the room to go to the bathroom.

“She’s a…” Javier began.

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking towards him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“You never asked,” you shrugged. He nodded. You could see the many questions he had in his eyes. 

“Will the two of you be okay here tonight? Alone?”

“We will. Thank you. And now go, before Steve actually drives off without you,“ you smiled forced.

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday?” He asked, sucking his bottom lip in. You nodded.

“Good night Javier,” He nodded too and turned around, slowly walking down the hallway.

“It’s Javi,” he called over his shoulder and you frowned.

“Friends get to call me Javi,” he looked at you. You had to smile at that before you finally closed the door behind you.

Within two weeks after this day, everything had changed. You moved into the same building as Javi and Steve, after a brief visit to the states for Enrique’s funeral. You actually found a close friend in Steve’s wife Connie. But most of all the absence of your best friend had been hard on you. 

You never actually told him how grateful you were for his help. And for coming to this country with you, just because you felt the need to change your life. You spend the nights crying yourself to sleep, feeling responsible for his death. If he hadn’t agreed to come down to Colombia with you, he would still be alive. 

And you wouldn’t have to look into your daughters sad eyes when she remembered that Uncle Ric wouldn’t come around to cook her favourite meal. You never learned the secret on what exactly Enrique did with the mac & cheese that made her go absolutely nuts, and now you wouldn’t have a chance to. 

Work had been one big mess ever since the fail at the brothel. And it took all willpower you had to not go around and tell everyone “I told you so”. You also had a new partner. Well, two. Steve and Javier insisted on you joining them. Not that you had a chance when you came back on Monday morning and your desk was standing a joined to theirs. You had spend the whole weekend crying when you weren’t around Eva and this had almost made you tear up again.

Javier had almost entirely stopped flirting with you, which was the biggest change. He had actually been nothing but nice and respectful and you were wondering what it was that made him like this. Not that you minded. 

He made the effort to get to know you, asking little question here and there. Asking about Eva and what her hobbies were. 

You were fascinated by this side of Javi you got to know now. 

But somehow you missed the way he used to look at you. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Steve asked, as you were sitting over another file of leads going nowhere.

“We wanted to paint Eva’s room. She chose green. And I absolutely hate it,” you chuckled.

“How come you never told anyone you had a kid?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“No one ever asked,” You shrugged. 

“People don’t really talk to me because I'm CIA and I'm a woman. And I don’t speak more than 10 words of Spanish.”

“Yikes, we really are assholes,” Steve shook his head and you laughed.

“Well… You’re not that bad. And you have a wife that bakes cake, so you’re on my good side,” you joked and Steve chuckled. 

“But what is going on with Javier lately?”

“So you noticed it too? I kept asking him but he just shrugged it off.” 

“Maybe he needs to get laid,” you shrugged and Steve grinned.

“You offering?” You heard Javier’s voice behind you and you glared at Steve who tried not to laugh. Turning in your seat you looked up at the man in question. He grinned down at you.

“What if I told you I'm a lesbian?”

“That would only make it hotter,” he winked. You turned in your seat looking at Steve. “Okay I think he’s back.” You chuckled.

“If you need any help, just say the word,” Steve said as you walked down the hallway. It was Friday and you had just come home. One of the perks of living together with Javi and Steve was that you could use one car to get to work. 

“Will do, thanks!” You smiled. 

“Help with what?” Javi asked, standing next to you. You were now occupying the apartment across from him.

“I want to paint Eva’s room tomorrow. And let’s just say it’s not my biggest talent. Enrique used to do things like that. He actually planned the whole thing,” you smiled sadly looking at the floor before you breathed in deeply and looked at Javi. He had a strange expression on his face.

“What about I’ll come help and you cook that thing you have been cooking last weekend?” he rubbed his moustache.

“You can come over for some food without working, Javi,” you said right away. 

“You tell me that now? What is it you cooked there last week?”

“I’m trying to figure out how Enrique made his mac & cheese cause Eva loved it so much.” You said quietly. You could hear her laughter behind the door.

“Sorry. I… Fuck. I keep reminding you of his death,” Javier shook his head.

“You’ve been a big help. I mean it. And if you want to spend your Saturday painting my daughter's room, you are welcome to do it,” you shrugged. He smiled a little.

“Okay. See you tomorrow then.” 

One thing you noticed since moving was that Javier was a night owl. Of course you knew about his reputation but you didn’t judge him. He was an attractive man. If you were him you would use that to your advantage too. When Eva was in bed, and you were sitting in yours, a glass of wine in hand as you continued to work on files it was more than once that you heard just how much of a night owl Javier was. Either his women were very good actors or he really knew what he was doing.  

“Mommy?” You heard the sleepy voice of your daughter and looked up from your book. She was standing in your door, her hair a wild mess. You looked at the clock. Nearly 1 am.

“Bad dream?” You asked. You saw her nod.

“Come here,” you smiled.

She climbed under your covers, snuggling to your side as you closed your book, setting it down on the bedside table. 

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, stroking away her hair so you could look at her. She shook her head. 

“Okay,” you kissed her head.

It was a couple minutes later, you thought she was already asleep when she mumbled. 

“You are not gonna leave me too mommy, right?” she whispered. 

You gulped, pulling her closer towards you.��

“I’m never gonna leave you baby,” you promised, your heart breaking. 

She nodded. 

“I miss Uncle Ric,” she said. You fought the tears. 

“I miss him too,” you whispered. 

You didn’t know how long you laid in bed, watching your daughter fall asleep. You had questioned coming to Colombia from the beginning. 

You had been looking to change jobs for a while, and the job in Colombia was the only job the CIA had offered to various agents who had all declined it. Now that you were living here, you knew why. 

It was beyond dangerous to take your daughter to this country. The CIA took your safety serious, which could have to do with how your late husbands death, which happened on a mission the CIA fucked up. 

You could have asked the CIA for everything and they probably would have given it to you, just to keep you quiet. And maybe you should just have taken the money they offered you, buy a house on the beach, settle down with your daughter somewhere safe. 

But there was always a little part of you brain that wanted to…. Avenge the death of your husband who had died because he found himself in the middle of a cartel deal gone wrong in Mexico. 

You looked at your daughter, hoping that your selfish decision would not cost her more of her family in the future, before you let yourself finally drift of to sleep. 

There was a knock on the door just as you finished washing the dishes from breakfast. Eva was wearing a bright blue kids overall you had bought while getting supplies to paint, running past you to the door before she stopped and turned around. 

„Can I open Mommy?“ She asked. 

„You gotta ask whose there first,“ you remind her and she nodded.

„WHO’S THERE?“ She yelled loudly through the door and you chuckled. 

„Uh…. Javi?“ The man behind the door said, sounding it like a question. Eva looked at you and you nodded at her and she unlocked the door and opened it. 

Javi looked at Eva then at you before he stepped into your apartment. 

„Next time we need the codeword from you Javi,“ Eva said and he nodded seriously. 

„What is the codeword?“

„Pancakes,“ she whispered loudly.

„Good morning,“ he said a little awkward. Eva threw the door closed behind him, before she ran back towards her room. 

You shook your head amused.

„Good Morning Javi. Ready to spend time with a six year old girl who is obsessed with the jungle book?“ You asked, drying your hands, before you turned around to him. 

He was wearing some older looking jeans and a white, very tight, T-Shirt. 

„I have you know I have a lot of younger cousins. I think I can handle one girl,“ he said over confident and you nodded. 

„We will see,“ you said, a smile playing around your lips before you nodded with your head towards your daughters bedroom.

You stopped counting after the tenth time Eva insisted on replaying The Bare Necessities. It was a surprisingly fun day. 

You had to admit that you had underestimated Javier Peña.

You knew he was good at his job, but you didn’t know he was good with children. He explained every step he made to paint the walls to Eva and praised her when she began to paint herself. And he listened to every story your daughter told him. Never annoyed with her, always asking follow up questions. 

And once she brought out her little recorder and played the jungle book tape you even noticed him humming along to the song, making you smile as you watched them both together. 

They had both threw you out of her room so you could make dinner, leaving Javi and Eva to rearrange her room now that it was finished painting. 

You could hear them laugh and you found yourself smiling to yourself. You missed the sound of her laughter ever since Enrique died. 

You had put the Mac & cheese into the oven when Javier walked into your kitchen. 

He had paint all over his arms, his shirt too. There was a smile on his lips and you found yourself smiling back. 

„Enough Jungle book?“ You asked and he huffed a laugh. 

„For now. She’s rearranging her stuffed animals on her bed,“ he said, leaning with his hip at the kitchen counter, watching you. 

„Oh good. This will take her at least an hour. She’s a little perfectionist,“ you said. 

„That’s… That’s good…“ Javi hummed and you frowned, turning towards him. He had a hand on his hip, his other hand pulling at his lip as he looked at you. 

„Why?“ You asked. 

He seemed… nervous. His eyes focused on you, seemingly fighting with himself about something. 

„Javi…“ you started but he stepped towards you, one of his hands coming up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. Your breath hitched and you looked at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted. 

You were nervous, but not in a bad way. It was more… anticipation of what would happen next. 

„Can I kiss you?“ He asked. Instead of answering you nodded slowly, seeing him smile before he leaned in and kissed you softly. Your eyes slipped close and his lips found yours. You felt his other hand come to rest on the back of your head, and he slowly guided you so your back was against the counter as he slowly deepened the kiss. His tongue brushing over your lips until you parted them for him, sighing against his mouth. You rested one of your hands on his chest, your other hand in his hair as he moved his lips over yours. 

He rested his forehead against yours as he parted form your lips, both of you panting for air. 

„Wow,“ you whispered, opening your eyes. He was smiling at you. 

„Yeah,“ he whispered, kissing you again. 

You both jumped apart when you heard Eva call for you. You felt like a teenager who got caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing when you looked at Javi. You both chuckled at each other and you took a deep breath. 

„I should check on her,“ you said. He nodded. 

„Go. I’ll keep an eye on dinner,“ he said. You ran a hand through your hair, before you turned around, seeing Javi adjust himself out of the corner of your eyes. 

Date Nights were not something you ever had before. Yes you went on dates when you were married, but there was never a big fuss about it. 

Javier on the other hand, had taken you out every Friday night since you kissed. And it didn’t matter that you couldn’t openly date, not just because of work, but because the cartels had eyes everywhere, you were just happy to bet able to spend time with him outside of work.

Steve and Connie were happy to watch Eva for the evening, happy to have someone to play with their recently adopted daughter Olivia. You had been there in the house when Olivia was found. The scene still haunting your dreams. 

Javier and you remained strictly professional at work. Of course there was talk about how Javier hadn’t been to a brothels in some time, but no one ever dared to ask, because he still got his intel from the girls. 

You weren’t officially dating, but the both of you spend almost all your free time together. Things had become so domestic that even Eva seemed to realise things were changing. Not that you were hiding it from her. Javier had started to hang out at your place some more. Dinner for the three of you becoming a almost daily fixture whenever Javi was around and not working. 

There were secret touches around Eva at the beginning until she caught Javier kissing you goodbye one night. She had a million questions for the both of you, and you had to give it to Javi, he answered every single one of them until Eva was satisfied, allowing him to date her mommy which you found beyond adorable. 

You could never even entertain the thought of dating someone your daughter didn’t like. 

That your daughter approved of this new man in your life made the change that was coming even harder. 

Things in Colombia were getting more and more dangerous, leaving you to make the difficult decision to go back to the states. You had put in a request to get relocated which had been approved the week before. 

You and Eva would be going back tomorrow leaving you to have to start over again. It had actually been Javier who had brought his concerns in the first place about you and your daughters safety up. You knew that coming to Colombia as a woman working for the CIA would put a target on your back. But the cruelty of the cartels and above all Pablo Escobar were at an all time high and to hard to ignore much longer. 

So this Friday night would be your last date night with Javier for a while. He had taken you out to your favourite restaurant and held your hand all night, proud to show you off now that the both of you did not have to hide anymore. 

It was the first time he kissed you in a crowded room, unafraid of who was watching. Because he knew you would be safe and out of the country in less than 15 hours. 

And while the two of you had kissed for the first time almost three months before, you did not have sex yet. 

Something you meant to change tonight. 

You unlocked the door to your apartment, inviting him in. He had helped you put your whole life in boxes, promising to oversee them being shipped off to your new home. 

„You gonna tell me where you going yet?“ He asked as you made the both of you a drink. You bit your bottom lip as you turned around, handing him the glass. 

He knew you were going to Texas, he just didn’t know where. 

Javier took a sip while you took one too before you set the glass down on the kitchen table. 

„Laredo,“ you said and his eyes widened. 

„I’m transferring to the DEA in Laredo, Texas,“ you added, waiting for his reaction. You never really talked about the future. But Javier was a man you could see yourself growing old with. You knew he had his own demons, thinking he did not deserve to be loved. 

He had told you that he wanted to work on himself once he was finished with Colombia. 

„Say that again,“ he asked you. He was looking at you with warm eyes, a smile forming on his lips. 

„Eva and me will be moving to Laredo, Texas,“ you said, smiling yourself. 

„Where?“ He asked.

„I found a house. But it needs some work. So I talked to your Dad the last time he called to ask for some help to find a contractor and he offered us his guest room,“ you said shyly. Javi laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

He sat the glass down and walked to you, his hands crossing on your lower back, his chest against yours. 

„You did this all behind my back?“ He asked. You nodded. 

„Surprise?“ You asked and he kissed you. 

„You gonna be on our farm?“

„Eva is already looking forward to learn how to ride a horse,“ you nodded. 

„Fuck, she’s gonna have my Dad wrapped around her little finger in no time,“ he chuckled.

„Just like she has you?“ You asked and cried out in laughter as he dinged his fingers into your side, making you giggle. 

„Rude,“ he said. 

„But true,“ you shrugged and he kissed you again. 

„I’m not complaining,“ he mumbled against your lips. You sighed as his lips slowly kissed down your jaw and then your neck. 

„Javi,“ you gasped and he hummed against your skin. 

„Please take me to bed,“ you whispered and he looked up at you. 

„Are you asking me…“

„Yeah…“ you nodded, both of your hands resting against his chest. He took a deep breath. 

„I need words,“ he clarified and you got on your tiptoes. 

„I wanna have sex with you Javier,“ you whispered against his ear.

He took his time undressing you, once you made it to your bedroom. His lips following a path of every inch of skin he revealed. When you were standing in just your underwear in front of him before he kissed you, mumbling against your lips how beautiful you were, before he helped you strip him off his clothes. 

You gulped when you saw his cock for the first time, not really surprised at the lack of underwear on his side. Biting your lip you looked up at him, seeing him wink at you before he kissed you again. 

He laid you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours. 

You moaned when you felt his weight on top of you, his arms resting next to your head to keep him hovering above you. You felt him rub against you, his cock rubbing against your stomach, making you both groan. 

He slowly kissed down your body. 

Your neck.

Your collarbone. 

Right between your breasts. He looked up at you then a question in his eyes. You arched your back and he smiled as he reached around and unhooked your bra, slowly pulling it down your shoulders until he could pull it off. 

„Beautiful,“ he hummed, his lips kissing the top of each breast before he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimpered, your back arching again, your hands playing with his hair to keep him close. 

He moaned against your skin, his tongue playing with your now hard nipple inside his mouth. 

„Javi,“ you moaned softly and  he released your nipple. 

„Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,“ he grinned and you felt yourself flush, giving him a shy smile. 

„I wanna taste you,“ he said, kissing your other breast. 

„Mhhh,“ you hummed.

His lips wandered down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button with a grin before he kissed right above your panty line. 

You released a shaky breath and he smiled at you. 

„Can I take this off?“ He asked. You nodded, biting your lip. His fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties and he kneeled between your legs pulling them down. Both of his hand ran up your thigh as he leaned back down, his face resting just above your pussy. 

„You’re so wet,“ he said in wonder and you smiled. 

„Just for you.“

He hummed before his face lowered and his lips kissed just above your clit. He inhaled deeply, releasing a groan. 

„Gonna miss this when you’re gone,“ he whispered and you sighed. 

„Guess you have to come home to me quickly then,“ you said and he smiled as he looked up at you. 

„I like the sound of that,“ he said.

„What?“ You asked. 

„Coming home to you,“ he whispered before he licked into you. You grabbed the bedsheet beneath you as he began to eat you out, parting your legs even further. His big hands kept you in place while he devoured you. His tongue playing with your clit before it dipped down and into you. 

„Javi please…“ you moaned.

„Please what?“ He asked.

„Make me cum?“ You begged and he chuckled. 

„Already begging for me….“ He teased and you lightly kicked him in his side, making him chuckle before he leaned back in, eating you out until you were moaning his name, your legs shaking in his hold. He kissed your pussy after you calmed down and have you a proud grin and he leaned back above you, his lips finding yours to give you a deep kiss where you could taste yourself. 

You angled one leg behind him, pushing him down against you. 

„Fuck me, Javi. I want you inside of me,“ you mumbled against his lips.

„Fuck,“ he cursed. He grabbed his cock, lining himself up against your pussy. 

You both moaned when he slowly sank into you. Inch by inch filling you smoothly until his whole cock was inside of you, filling you perfectly. His forehead came to rest against yours and you wiggled your hips, making him groan. 

„Fuck…. Please give me a moment…“ he groaned and you smiled, pecking his lips. He kissed you slow but deep. Licking into your mouth. 

You made out for a while before he slowly bottomed out and pushed back into you, keeping a slow pace. 

„Feels fucking perfect, baby,“ he moaned against your lips, fucking you deeply. 

You wrapped both of your legs around him, your hands on his back and in his hair. 

„Shit I’m not gonna last, feels so good, he groaned and you felt one of his hands slip between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. 

„I want you to cum with me,“ he said and began to circle your clit while he fucked faster into you. 

„Javi,“ you whimpered, arching your back. His head dipped down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulled your nipple between his teeth, pulling it playfully and your whole body shuddered as your orgasm washed over you, whimpering beneath him just as he twitched and came deep inside of you. 

You sighed, your fingers brushing through his hair as he kissed you, both of you smiling against each others lips. 

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each others embrace before he slowly pulled out of you, pecking your lips. He went to the bathroom to clean himself off, bringing a washcloth to clean you too. 

„I’m gonna get Eva from Steve and Connie’s,“ he mumbled against your lips and you nodded dreamily at him, watching him as he got dressed. 

You got into your bathrobe and walked out of your bedroom just as Javi walked back into your apartment, a sleeping Eva in his arms. 

Smiling at him you opened the door to her bedroom for him, watching him as he put her carefully into her bed. He had been doing this since the first date night, and it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect Javi fit into your life. 

He kissed her forehead before he walked towards you, taking your hand to lead you back into your bedroom. 

You knew you had to sleep but as you watched Javi strip out of his clothes and get into bed with you you were overcome with a sadness, knowing that his was the last time you would see him for a while. 

You laid in bed, facing each other. 

„I love you,“ you whispered, wanting him to hear the words before you leave. 

He gave you a soft smile before he slipped closer towards you, his nose brushing over yours. 

„I love you too,“ he whispered back and kissed you. 

Both of you finding close to no sleep until it was time to get ready to leave for the airport the next morning. 

„Bye Javi,“ Eva sobbed as Javi held her in his arms the next morning. She was clinging to him like a koala, clutching his shirt in her tiny fists. He was still holding your hand.

Javi had gotten breakfast while you got Eva ready before he drove you both to the airport.

You saw him take a shaky breath, kissing her hair. 

„I’m gonna miss you,“ she mumbled and you felt tears stinging in the corner of your eyes. 

„I’m gonna miss you and your mom too. So much,“ Javi whispered, pulling you closer. He let go of your hand to put his arm around you, pulling you into the hug. 

„You have to fight the bad guys. And then you can come live with us all the time,“ Eva mumbled and Javi looked at you. You gave him a watery smile.

„I’ll do my best. Be good for your mommy,“ he said and you saw her nod, before he slowly let her down. She hugged your side and you wrapped your arm around her. 

„Be safe,“ you whispered looking up at him. 

„I will,“ he promised before he kissed you softly. 

„I love you,“ you said and he smiled, a tear now running down his cheek. 

„I love you, too,“ he kissed you again.

#my fic #javier peña #Javier Peña x fem reader #Pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #narcos #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[wreckedandpolemic]

6,98,99. Sorry for the multiple numbers, they just work so well together.

Also love your work!💜

my kink is karma - matty healy

(mdni) in which your ex wants to give you a birthday treat. too bad for your boyfriend. 2099 words.

warnings: cheating, semi-public sex, daddy kink

Firstly, you’d like to say that you’re not a spiteful person, thank you very much. But fuck if it doesn’t feel good to run into your ex drinking alone while celebrating your birthday with your friends and your shiny, new boyfriend. Matty salutes you with his glass when you spot him, and you ignore him pointedly. He won’t fucking leave it alone, though — that’s always been his problem.

“Of all the gin joints in all the world, she walks into mine,” says Matty, low in your ear as you go to order yourself another drink at the bar. You hope he doesn’t notice the shudder that runs through you at the sound of his voice. “Whatever she’s having on my tab, yeah?” he adds smoothly, and you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll have a bottle of the most expensive champagne you’ve got,” you grin. What? He’s got the money for it, and you aren’t going to turn down a free drink on your birthday, of all days. Matty shrugs when the bartender looks at him to confirm, and she hands you the bottle in a cooler.

You turn to leave, go back to your friends, but Matty takes hold of your wrist, gentle enough that you could break out of it. Something stops you, though. “Happy birthday,” he mutters. “Thought about callin’, but…” he blows out a breath. “The way we left things, I didn’t know if you’d wanna hear from me.”

Feigning casualness, you shrug, pretending like the reminder of your heart-wrenching breakup doesn’t tear at you all over again. “Yeah… Well, you’re here now,” you say matter-of-factly. “How’ve you been?” you ask, despite knowing the answer. Over the last six months, you’ve taken some kind of twisted pleasure in keeping tabs on him, in watching his life fall apart.

The two of you split in April, leaving you forced to move out of the apartment you loved that was in his name, nine days after you’d paid your half of the rent. June, he got arrested in a drunken bar fight; July crashed his car, the car he loved more than almost anything, leaving it completely written off; August, the girl he’d been seeing since suspiciously soon after your breakup left him with no warning. Meanwhile, you’ve had a promotion, gotten into the perfect relationship and everything is falling neatly into place.

Your reaction to him being around is involuntary, you tell yourself, fucking Pavlovian. You were together for three fucking years, of course your body still responds to him. It’s still learning what it’s like to live without him. Matty sighs, and you jolt out of your reverie as you remember you asked him a question. “Not great,” he admits. “Drinkin’ alone on a Friday night not tip you off?” he says, bitterness tracing his tone. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’ve been great,” you say blithely. “I’m making great money, I’m in love, properly this time,” you can’t resist adding. “And you just bought me a bottle of champagne and told me everything sucks for you! What more could a girl want on her birthday?”

Matty scoffs. “You’re still the same,” he says coolly. “Bratty when you’re not getting fucked right, huh?” he adds, your stomach swooping at his words.

You don’t know what makes you admit it, some heady combination of mixed drinks and Matty’s presence for the first time in months overcoming all sense, but you murmur, “M’not. He’s not as good as you. S’the only thing I miss.” You try to weaken the admission.

Matty’s eyes light up, and you groan internally. “Is that so?” His grip tightens on your wrist and you stumble towards him when he tugs on it, a sickening pulse of arousal dripping down your spine. “Got everything you want, huh? Even down to your perfect little boyfriend. But you think about me when he’s fucking you, don’t you?” he breathes, something hard and dangerous in his tone, your heart thudding traitorously as he leans closer. 

“I… That’s not true.” you say, but the wavering of your voice betrays you, and he smirks wickedly.

“You can’t lie to me, baby. I know you too well.” The statement lodges in your throat like you’ve dry-swallowed a pill, the truth ringing disgustingly clear. “What do you say? You want one last good fuck, for old times’ sake?”

You should pull away. You need to pull away. You have to pull away. But you can’t. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” you say. Matty’s eyes darken, but you know he took note of the most crucial element first: it wasn’t a refusal.

“I never cheated on you,” Matty says seriously. “I did a lot of other shit, I know I did, but not that. Never that.”

You swallow hard. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“One more time. One more fuck. I need you out of my system,” you breathe, and you could almost cum from the filthy look on his face. Guiltily, you slink to the bathroom, casting furtive glances around and praying nobody spots you trailing after Matty and slipping behind a locked door.

Matty slams you against the door the second it shuts, devouring you in a harsh kiss, teeth and tongue sliding together almost violently. Having his hands on you again feels horrifyingly good, nauseatingly familiar. He’s hard, you can feel as he presses his body against yours, and you whimper pathetically into his mouth. “God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Matty groans, like he can’t help himself. “Makes me sick. Been fuckin’ dying for you, baby.”

“So hurry up,” you snap. “I know you’re here alone, but I have people who care, and not much time before one of them notices I’m missing.”

“Such a brat,” Matty teases. “Need a good fuck to shut you up, yeah? S’alright, baby. Daddy’s here now. Gonna give you what you need.” The bottom falls out of your stomach and his words, a helpless, strangled moan escaping you. “Oh, missed your Daddy, have you, darling? Not given your little boyfriend my name, right?”

“N-no,” you stammer. “He… he wouldn’t understand. You’re my Daddy, couldn’t replace you.” Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your mind dizzy with desire, the words spilling from your lips without permission.

You’d forgotten how it feels with him, how Matty gets you sick with lust, thick and palpable in the air of the small room. “Good girl,” he croons. “Bend over for Daddy, yeah? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

You obey, the sight of your reflection sickening. You look fucked-out already, flushed red and panting. Matty’s hands come to rest on your hips, stroking appreciatively over the curve of your ass and pushing your too-short dress up around your hips. Torturously slow, he pulls your panties off, motioning for you to step out of them when they hit the floor. “I’m keeping these,” he says, slipping the scrap of lace into his pocket. “Something to remember you by, yeah?”

Wrapped up in his touch as you were, the reminder that this is a one-time thing shocks you like you’ve been doused with ice water. Right now, you don’t have a fucking clue why you even broke up, not when his fingers are so achingly close to your dripping core. “God, Matty, please!” you choke out, widening your legs desperately. 

“Give me a minute, baby. Missed this pretty cunt so much. Gotta make sure I don’t forget a thing, if this is the last time m’gonna get to have you.” He brushes his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the barest touch over your swollen clit. Meeting your gaze in the dingy mirror, Matty wraps his lips around his wet fingers, moaning exaggeratedly as he sucks them clean. “God, missed the way you taste, darling. Sweetest fucking girl I’ve ever had,” he promises, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans.

You squirm, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. You hear the sound of a foil wrapper tearing open, and before you can process, Matty slides into you, your knees buckling at the sudden fullness. “F-fuck,” you whimper, the feeling of being wholly surrounded by him familiar as he thrusts deep into you, pleasure cascading over your bones.

“God, you feel so fucking good, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Daddy’s gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name,” Matty promises, shushing you soothingly as you whimper. His hips slam against yours, ecstasy flooding your veins as your thighs bash against the sink. He fists a hand in your hair, dragging you up to meet your own gaze in the mirror. “Look at yourself, baby. Look how gorgeous you are, falling apart on my dick. Right where you should be, hm?” he murmurs, heat flooding your belly as you watch yourself take his cock over and over. “He could never fuck you like this, huh? Whose girl are you, really?”

“M’yours, Daddy. Yours, still yours, all yours,” you babble, cunt clenching wantonly around him as his smirk grows and his pace speeds. You moan horrifyingly loud when he hits that spot inside of you, too dizzy with desire to control your noises.

“Shh, baby, shh. Try not to be so noisy, yeah? Can’t let anyone know what we’re doin’ in here, that this lying fucking bastard has you split open and begging on his cock.” He throws your words from your final fight back in your face, pinching your clit meanly and fucking you deep. You can’t hold back another whimpering scream, and he scoffs. “Needy little whore can’t keep quiet, huh?” he murmurs, sliding two of his fingers into your mouth. Eagerly, you suck on them, your moans muffled as saliva pools under your tongue.

Heat scorches through you, every thrust of Matty’s hips and grunt that falls from his lips sending an illicit spark of pure pleasure racing up your spine. You can’t think, can barely breathe, choked in desperate lust that drips out of you and soaks him. He’s right, you can’t remember anything but him, his name circling your head, denting your brain out of shape. Nothing but Matty, Matty, Matty. “This fuckin’ pussy drives me insane, baby. Always so wet for me, so wet for your Daddy. Could have this all the time, if you wanted.”

His words cut through the fog in your mind as Matty slides his fingers free from your mouth to let you answer. “What do you mean?” you stammer, your disloyal heart skipping a beat.

“We had issues, yeah. But we were good together,” Matty murmurs, rubbing distracting circles into your clit, training you into giving the right response. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last six months. About us.” He slams his hips against yours on the final word, pleasure roiling in your stomach, every muscle in your body stringing taut. “I want another try. I know it would be better this time. I’d be better,” he promises, nails digging possessively into your hips.

“Matty, I–” You’re at a loss for words. His face crumples almost imperceptibly; if you weren’t so attuned to him, you wouldn’t have known.

“S’okay, baby. Fucked you too dumb to answer, I get it. You wanna be a good girl and cum for Daddy?” You nod wildly, his circles over your clit getting tighter and faster and you whimper helplessly, but you don’t miss how he’s stopped meeting your eyes.

Ecstasy winds around your veins, sticky, hot desire pinning you still as Matty fucks into you. “Fuck, Daddy, m’gonna–” you gasp out, the tension in your body finally breaking, stars going supernova behind your eyelids. Your legs tremble, your entire body going limp as waves of pleasure swirl in your stomach and buffet your organs.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Matty murmurs soothingly. “Daddy’s got you. Whenever you want, I’ll be here,” he promises, and a split-second later you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, the feeling of his cum spilling in your cunt sorely missing.

It takes a few moments before your legs have stopped shaking enough for you to stand, Matty supporting your waist as you clutch your abused muscles. “We should… I should get back out there,” you say, raking your fingers through your hair in an effort to tame it. You both look well-fucked, the question of how you’re going to explain your absence rattling around your mind. Matty meets your eyes one last time, looking over his shoulder as he unlocks the door.

“When you get bored of him, call me. I’ll be waiting.”

#Sorry for all the daddy kink i unlocked something in myself writing white and gold #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #writing #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #smut #smut prompt fills #request

[bishopsbeloved]

the art of falling in love (part four)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

part one | part two | part three | part four (4k words) | part five | epilogue

read this fic on ao3!

Natalia Romanova has lived her whole life in maybes.

When she was five years old and first banished to an orphanage in a far vast snowy corner of Russia, she thought to herself, okay. Maybe this will be the place that I find my forever family. Surely no place can be worse than that which I have come from. But the other girls she lived with were taller and crueler, and almost a year passed before a certain scraggly blonde rascal stumbled into sharing a room with her. Without hesitation she began causing havoc for every single resident. Natalia liked her immediately. It was not long before the two would share a bed at night and call one another sister.

Maybe I was right, Natalia would think to herself sleepily, as she and tiny Yelena huddled together beneath a duvet to survive the cold winter nights. Maybe this is my forever family.

It only took one day for that to fall apart for her, though. It hadn’t even occurred to her that someone might adopt Yelena without her too, or vice versa. And when that happened, and Yelena was torn away, she was at a loss.

“Не волнуйся,” Yelena reassured her as she sped around their tiny bedroom, gathering her many trinkets and treasures into a bag. “It’s okay. My mama and papa, they are very lovely, they promise they will come back for you. We will be a family together, in America. A new start. Together.” She held out a pinky earnestly.

“Together,” Natalia repeated, sealing the deal.

But two years after Yelena’s departure, she began to wonder if maybe her sister had been wrong.

She still can’t remember much of the day that they finally, finally came back for her. She was eight, and you and Yelena were both seven. Of course, she didn’t know you even existed at first — not until the long journey back, gazing down at the motherland below them as they left it behind, when Yelena babbled endlessly about her new best friend she’d made in Ohio. She doesn’t remember much of that, either — the whole day felt too perfect to be real. It’s all a blur. But still to this day, proudly framed by Alexi and hung above the fireplace, are the photos he took the day she came home.

Only a week into her life in Ohio did she ask her mother if she could change her name. Natalia Romanova was too difficult for Americans to pronounce, and it didn’t feel American. It felt as though it were just another of countless things that screamed I don’t belong. Maybe it would help her feel more acclimated to her new home. And when she worded it like that, who was Melina to deny her? So Natalia Romanova became Natasha Romanoff. You barely even batted an eyelid when the news reached you, and she’d often catch herself smiling when you went out of your way to use her full name in any situation you could.

Although it feels as though she’s loved you forever, it’s true that she was wary of you at first. That fateful moment she first met you, you came tearing into her new home to spend time with her sister and she was scared you’d take her away — but you didn’t. You shared her. And as time went on you began to share parts of yourself with Nat, too.

She’ll remember the day you won her over until her dying breath. December 3 — almost six months since she first moved to Ohio, and her first birthday there. You’d stayed over the night before, as you often did even then, and in the morning you approached her with wide adoring eyes and something clasped carefully in your hands.

“Natasha,” you began, with a slight tremor in your voice, “um, it is your birthday, obviously,” you glanced over at the gaudy banners Alexi had strung proudly around the house in declaration of this fact, “and, uhm, I know we haven’t known each other super long, or anything, but, yeah,” you finished lamely, and held out your hands to her, opening them up. “I found this super cool rock. Alexi helped me clean it. It’s pink.”

It was super cool, Natasha decided. Pink had become her favourite colour as of late — ever since she’d learnt that in America it’s for girls. She looked from the sparkly rock to your earnest, hopeful face and back again, and decided then and there that she loved you. (And maybe you even loved her back.)

The nature of said love did not make itself known to her for a good few years; even before it did, she made her best efforts to dismiss it, though. She very quickly learnt just how American girls were supposed to be — which did not include bright blue hair, or a desire to kiss other girls. Within just a few days of starting public school Natasha had bleached the dye from her hair, quashed down any potential interest in Daphne from Scooby Doo, and at night would carefully practise the American way of pronouncing words in the mirror — without her gentle Russian tinge. She tacked up posters of male pop stars in her room, and began to strategically pick which boys in her class she’d be crushing on next. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept all of this up then she’d be able to fit into her surroundings the way she was somehow never able to in the orphanage.

And for the most part, she did. She found herself becoming one of the most popular girls in class. She’d discovered that actually she was very good at fitting in, as long as she paid enough attention to everyone else. And she felt good about herself — as long as she didn’t pay attention to you and Yelena, who were entirely unbothered by the social norms she adhered so much to, and seemed a whole lot better off for it. It was entirely uncool to be so close with your sister. Her annoying little sister, and her quiet lovely best friend. Yes, as long as she avoided the two of you wherever she could, she’d be fine.

That’s how the years passed, for a long time. Natasha eventually outgrew her desire to distance herself from Yelena, and she returned to the protective tendencies she had harboured for the blonde when they were so young and alone, but what she didn’t outgrow was her need to fit in. That followed her way into high school. By sophomore year she was cheer captain and everyone in school knew her name. (She wasn’t mean, though, she always made sure of that. And she made it known that if anyone were to mess with Yelena — or you, by extension, as by this point people had started referring to you as the twins — there would be consequences.) She had friends, she had boyfriends, she had invites to parties. And as long as Natasha pretended she didn’t have a massive interest in you or a mental list of your likes and dislikes, she would be fine. Probably.

When she was sixteen she realised with startling clarity that the massive interest she acted as though she didn’t have in you was love. She and two of her good friends, Sharon and Maria, were animatedly discussing whether Sharon really loved her boyfriend or not. And the way love was described, romantic love, was identical to what she felt for you (and what any idiot could tell you felt for her, as much as everyone seemed to have agreed to pretend that you didn’t). An inexplicable attraction drawing her to you, an interest in anything you were interested in (see that time she was ten and stayed up all night researching your favourite cartoon just so she could discuss it with you over breakfast the next morning), a desire to just be with you forever. That was love. She loved you.

Oh, shit.

“You’re awful quiet, Nat,” Maria commented. Natasha cleared her throat and took a sip of juice. “Anything on your mind?”

“Just that Sharon needs to dump her shitbag of a boyfriend,” she replied shortly. Maria clapped her hands together in triumph, while Sharon let out a huff of annoyance.

“That’s what I keep saying,” Maria told her proudly, as Sharon spluttered in protest. The discussion resumed and the matter was forgotten. Natasha shoved her discovery to the back of her mind, hoping and praying she could un-discover it. Maybe if she did, things would stay okay.

Try as she might, she couldn’t, but she has tried; more determined than ever to be the perfect American girl. Over dinners she pretends to be annoyed at the teasing, saying that her accent’s gone, she’s no Russian, the American agenda has got her, that she’s almost as American as you.

“Our token Yankees,” Alexi often says merrily, to this day, clapping both you and her on the back with force that makes you wince and her giggle. She’ll whine and wrinkle her nose at him (while you just sit and blush), but secretly revel in the praise that her efforts have been so fruitful.

Barely any time into this school year, her senior year, she realised that she hadn’t had a boyfriend for a suspiciously long time.

“You and James would be cute,” offered Sharon, pointing with her fork at where her good friend and fellow Slav sat across the cafeteria, laughing about something.

“Yes,” came Natasha’s thoughtful reply, “we would, wouldn’t we?”

Every single aspect of her life was coldly calculated, unfeeling, sterile. Natasha Romanoff knew what she wanted and she would obtain it. Her pursuit of Bucky Barnes was no different. He was politely reciprocal at first, and the two entered what Nat’s friends called a situationship over the coming months. It wasn’t until a Stark house party that he turned her down.

“Natasha,” he said gently, and the word was so loud despite the music that blared only a few rooms away. He only had to say that and she knew. She sighed, and sat down on the bed in defeat, only to look up in surprise at his next words.

“I don’t… I like Steve.”

Not even Natasha could understand why she started crying. But Buck was so kind, so patient, and he held her until her tears dried. When she could speak evenly again she opened her mouth and everything came flooding out. The way she felt for you and her deep, innate fear of being different.

Bucky was quiet for a few moments in contemplation. Then he said, “I’m scared, too. Me and Steve are like you and Y/N, we known each other all our lives, and it’s like, what if whatever I do or say or feel ruins that? But you gotta… it’s…” He scratched at the back of his head. “You gotta trust it’ll work out. If you love each other proper, then even if she don’t like you back, you’ll still have her. In your life. It’ll be okay, you know. You just gotta have faith.”

Of course, Natasha knew without a shadow of a doubt how hopelessly head over heels you were for her. Rejection wasn’t what she feared. But she wasn’t sure how to word that to Bucky without sounding entirely conceited, so she just nodded. After that night, though, the two were a whole lot closer, and in no time at all they established a kind of beard situation — they’d act ambiguously involved in public so that in private they could affiliate with the ones their hearts truly desired. It wasn’t as though there weren’t queer people within their school, because of course there were, but both feared for the loss of their social standing so intensely that they saw no other option.

It was Bucky who pushed Nat to kiss you at the New Year’s party.

“If it goes wrong, come find me and we’ll drink,” he shouted over the blaring music. Both of them knew it wouldn’t go wrong, though.

But she drank anyway — for luck, she told herself, downing an impressive amount in one. She was Russian, even when she pretended she was not. A perk of that was being able to handle her liquor.

The New Year’s kiss famously went swimmingly, and Nat felt so giddy the next morning that she marvelled she hadn’t done this sooner. The two of you began to sneak around, which pleased her greatly, but she felt the words you didn’t say during the silence that would sometimes descend on the two of you. Your slight twitchiness, the way you would work yourself up to say something only to dismiss it at the last second. You didn’t want to ask what are we? for fear of the probable answer — and Natasha didn’t have an answer for you, anyway. She liked the way things were now; she had a pretty girl wrapped around her finger who she could sneak around with in private, and she could simultaneously maintain the social status she’d always had in public. She was certain that if you were ever to make her pick between the two she would spiral. Eventually you seemed to take the hint, and the hopeful silences stopped.

It never really occurred to her that she wasn’t treating you well until quite a few months into your relationship — around June, after Stark’s spring break party, once Yelena had started teasing you about a mystery girl. Every time it was mentioned in front of her she would tense, but you handled it with surprising and admirable nonchalance, and her sister seemed to have no suspicion it was her that was spoken of.

Natasha came back late one night from a hangout with friends. She’d forgotten her key and, assuming everyone was asleep, decided to let herself in through the garage rather than disturb anyone. But you and Yelena were still up and enjoying a quiet night in, as the two of you often did, huddled together under blankets on the sofa in a way that would make Natasha reminisce on the way she and Yelena used to do that in the orphanage — except they had done that to survive the bitter cold, whilst the two of you did so merely to enjoy reality TV reruns. It warmed Natasha to see her baby sister happy, at least.

The noise of one Kardashian fighting another (Natasha always got them mixed up) drowned out her quiet arrival, and the two of you were mid-conversation. She made for the stairs, not really wanting nor caring to intrude, but froze as she tuned into Yelena’s next words.

“You never really mention your mystery girl anymore, anyway,” the blonde was saying. “Did something happen? I can hurt someone.”

Natasha craned her neck to catch your next words.

“Nothing happened,” you said quietly. Defeatedly. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t think she likes me as much as I like her.”

“Ah, конечно нет, impossible,” drawled Yelena. “You are adorable, утенок. Everyone likes you.”

You murmured something unintelligible, and Yelena scoffed, but Natasha didn’t need to hear any more. She crawled up the stairs as if the world were about to slip away from beneath her feet. Suddenly everything around her was so overwhelmingly real, and she realised with sickening clarity that you were real, too. She spent the rest of that night lying in her bed, unsleeping, unmoving, counting the paint strokes on the ceiling and wondering if she could’ve gone her whole life without knowing that she’s a bad person. Maybe she has. 

That was probably the beginning of the end. When she looked you the next morning it was as though she was seeing you for the first time — you were quiet, you were pale, there were dark circles under your eyes. You were smaller somehow, as though something had defeated you completely. And Nat knew in that moment that she was too much of a coward to give herself to you, so the kindest thing she could do was let you go. If she was lucky then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t lose you completely if she set you free now.

Right now it’s prom night. Seeing you dancing with Sam was one of the most gut-wrenching sights she’s ever endured, but he at least seems to make you happier than she ever did. It didn’t make her very happy to look at, though, so she convinced Buck to drop her home on his way back to Steve’s. (Prom was their first official date and, as Buck informed her with a proud grin as she left the car, it went fantastic.) Melina and Alexi are out — every other Friday is their date night, and while Yelena groans and gags at how ridiculously in love their parents are, Natasha just finds it sweet and hopes she’ll have something like that someday. But you’re the closest it’s ever come to that for her, and she’s fucked that one. Royally.

“Hi, Liho,” she opens the front door and mumbles to the cat, who is sat in the hall expectantly. His haunches rise defensively, and Nat just sighs. He is very much your cat, not hers, and in recent times he seems to have been picking up on the turmoil she’s been putting you through. “Look, man, she’s out being happy, without me. Isn’t that enough?”

Liho hisses, and stalks with his head held high out of the front door.

“Yeah, whatever, leave then,” Nat grumbles, and kicks the door shut behind him. Even through the thick oakwood she can hear the noises of annoyance he makes back at her.

She kicks off her heels and throws herself onto the sofa, and lays there for a long time. It would be nice, she thinks to herself, if she could just stay here forever, and never have to face the world again. And she does for a while, but eventually the front door slams, bringing in cold air and with it the announcement that you and Yelena are home. Nat tenses as she recognises the sounds of your crying, and leaps to her feet, sliding across the smooth wooden floors in her stockinged feet towards you.

“What’s going on?” she pants, taking in the scene. You’re cradling something dark and vaguely furry to your chest, and Yelena is fussing over it worriedly. She realises like a punch to the gut that it’s Liho you’re holding. “Holy shit, what —”

She freezes as she realises she’s the one who let him outside. Is he supposed to outside? She doesn’t know anything about this goddamn cat, he’s not hers. Shit. 

“Call Alexi,” you choke out. Natasha stands still frozen in shock, so Yelena lets out a mutter of “бесполезный” and charges towards the landline herself.

“Are you— okay?” Nat tries uncertainly. “What —”

“Piss off, Nat,” you cry. Ouch. Okay, she probably deserves that.

“Sorry,” she says quietly, and steps back from you. You stand in silence for a few moments until Yelena comes skidding back out into the hall.

“He’s nearly home anyway,” she pants. “He says don’t call the vet, not until Ma has looked him, we should just stop the bleeding. It was definitely a car, probably a hit and run so he said to check the doorbell camera thingy. What is their name?”

“That is the scientific term, yes,” Natasha nods, and you make a noise that’s both a laugh and a sob. “Um, I think Dad has the app on his iPad.” Not that he knows how to use it. He’s such a comedically giant man that seeing him trying to navigate the tiny device offers her a steady stream of entertainment. (“Глупый кусок жести. Делай как я говорю!”)

“On it,” Yelena nods, and sprints off to where she last saw the device.

“I’m sorry,” Nat offers again, once her sister’s out of earshot.

“Not now, Nat,” you sigh tiredly, and you sound so broken that she just wants to scoop you up and protect you from all the evil in the world. But she’s subjected you to that evil, whether she meant to or not, and now she has to deal with the consequences.

Yelena is gone and oddly quiet for a suspiciously long time.

“You okay?” you call, cupping the cat desperately to your chest as you pad off in search of her. Unsure of what else to do, Natasha follows you, hanging behind awkwardly and making sure to give you enough space.

Yelena is stood still as anything in the kitchen, staring at the iPad propped up on the counter, rewatching one clip over and over on the security camera app. Nat can’t tell what it’s of, at first, but the exact moment you realise you let out a squeak, and squeeze Liho even closer to your chest. Only a moment later does Natasha understand what it is.

It’s from quite a while ago — the timestamp says sometime late at night in March. In the clip Nat’s car pulls up onto the driveway, with her at the wheel and you in the passenger’s seat. Once the car stops, Nat leans over and she kisses you. And you kiss back. On camera.

Liho lets out a noise of pain at how tightly you’re gripping him to you. Yelena stares blankly at the screen as the video plays over and over again.

“Lena?” you ask quietly, and when the blonde turns round her eyes are glossy. “I don’t —”

The next thing Natasha knows is a sharp pain shooting through her nose, and she steps back in shock, because there’s no way Yelena’s just hit her.

“What the fuck,” Yelena says, and there’s that scratchy sound to her voice that’s only ever there when she’s trying not to cry. “The one person who is off limits and you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Lena,” you cry out in alarm as the blonde raises her fist again. “Don’t, it wasn’t — it was an accident —”

“Oh, what,” she’s rounding on you now, “so you just slipped and fell into my sister’s —”

“No,” you plead desperately, “it wasn’t like that.”

“You were the mystery girl all along,” Yelena shouts, and presses her lips together with her eyes screwed tightly shut. “All the time you were right there. You lied to me.” She raises her fist again, but Nat is prepared this time and catches it neatly in her own.

“Don’t,” she says evenly, but she isn’t prepared for the hatred that burns in the green eyes that meet hers.

“How many months were you sneaking around behind my back?” Yelena hisses. Nat still holds her wrist tightly, so she merely turns her head to address you next. “Ты - лжец, how long have you been using me for her?”

“I wasn’t,” you plead, and whatever is shouted after that is indiscernible. After a few moments of noise the front door opens again, and Melina and Alexi stumble in, with a sense of urgency about them.

“Oh goodness, what is all this shouting, girls?” Melina asks loudly, and at the sound of her raised voice you all instinctively fall quiet. “In fact, this is not important. Where is this poor cat?”

You hold out the bundle of bandages and fur to her, face shiny with tears, and she scoops him up gently. “Will he be okay?”

“I don’t know,” she says shortly. “I will get him to the vet. I’ll call you.” She kisses your forehead, then Yelena’s, then Natasha’s on the way out and the front door slams behind her.

Yelena turns on you again with no less venom than before.

“You,” she says, “are not my family. And neither are you,” she adds to Natasha. “Do not speak to me.” She storms out of the room, and you, Nat and Alexi watch her leave, stunned.

“Well,” says Alexi with a jovial chuckle, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, “she seems a little upset, да?”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter two of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. Reader is described as being "curvy." I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist

Chapter 1

*************************************************

1934 Philadelphia

The subtle scratch of your pencil against the smooth page of the sketchbook filled your quiet bedroom. One look at the ticking clock on your bedside table stated that it was past midnight, but you didn't care. The dark circles under your eyes the next morning were well worth it, tiredness forgotten as the haze of creativity dulled the weariness of the day you'd had.

It was your fifteenth birthday, and although your parents had thrown you a lavish party to prove that the y/l/n family had not been touched by the destruction of the depression and were not concerned with the horrors of war overseas, there was only one person that you wanted to be there.

Ben wasn't of course. He was still at boarding school number five, and you imagined that a number six was already in order, given his track record.

You smile to yourself when you think of your best friend. You hadn't seen him in two months, not since you walked with him to the train station and he tried to act like he didn't care that his father was sending him away again, but you knew he did.

The things that Ben's father said and did to him made anger surge behind your ribcage. You didn't understand how his father could be so callous, so uncaring. You also hate that it drove Ben to drink, though Ben didn't seem to drink quite as much when you were around, because he knew that you didn't like it.

The party would have been more entertaining if he was there. Yes he did tend to get drunk and flirt with whatever walked past him, but he always had a way of cheering you up. And he had a wonderful knack for keeping your mother at a distance, who prayed that Ben would stay away from you, but never did.

If he was there your mother wouldn't have hovered over you all night, slapping away your hand every time you tried to take a piece of cake or hiss something at you when you pulled at the itchy pink dress that she brought home three days ago, your least favorite color. When you got dressed for the party you felt like a porcelain doll in a China cabinet, made to be looked at, but never touched.

It wasn't too far off. Being the only daughter of one of the richest families that lived in Philadelphia your reputation and pedigree were two of the most important things to your mother. It meant that in a few years you would be married off to another rich family, have rich babies, and then put your own daughter through the same cycle of hell all over again.

Suitors were already beginning to trickle into your life, sons of your father’s business partners each screened by your mother before the introductory meetings where you felt bored, stiff,  choked by the thick fabric of the dresses your mother picked out, and plastered with makeup. All of course the best of Europe, which you had no idea how your mother managed to get given that there was a war on.

Ben was the only thing in your life that wasn't planned and you loved him for it.

You look up at the dark corner of your room to get a view of the long shadows that creep along the bedroom floor, and cut through the light coming from the gas lantern on your bedside table. You try to distinguish the sharp edges and smooth curves and watch them take shape beneath the ministrations of your pencil against the page.

Art was your only escape, the only thing you did that your mother approved of.

"A proper lady should have a hobby." She had sniffed, but then narrowed her eyes at the graphite and ink stains on you hands.

Part of the fun is the mess. You had thought to yourself watching her disapproving look.

A tap on your window makes you lift your gaze from the page and look towards the window seat that faces out the third story of your home onto the street below.

Ben is crouched there on the ledge that juts out only a foot from the outer brick wall a wide smile on his face that you can't help but return. You had been friends since you were both eight, when your parents threw yet another party and you found Ben in one of the side rooms trying to avoid his father. When his father tried to come in to find him, you lied and said you hadn't seen Ben.

And when his mother died two years later, Ben would show up some nights, scaling the large tree outside your window to stay with you. He never wanted to talk about it and you never asked, instead you talked about everything else until you both fell asleep.

You felt your heart thud loudly in your chest and a familiar warmth tracing lightly against your skin when you lock eyes with him. It was hard to be in love with your best friend. But you were, and you couldn't tell him. You didn't want to ruin the only meaningful relationship you'd ever had in your life. Ben knew everything about you, you trusted him and you couldn't imagine what it would be like to live your life without him, didn't want to.

Sometimes you hoped he felt the same way. When you woke up before him in the morning and the light from the window made his hair lighter and he held you close to his chest because in his sleep he had wrapped his arm around you. You liked to pretend that he did it on purpose, not just because there was barely any room between the two of you in your bed because now you both weren't as small as you used to be. You don’t know when Ben got so broad, tall, and muscular, but now it was impossible to ignore, especially being pressed against his chest when you woke.

 It was improper to be that close in bed together of course, but you didn't care. You didn't care what other people thought about him or you. He was your best friend, and although you wished for more, you wouldn't turn your back on him just because other people thought he was trouble.

Which he was.

You put your sketchbook down and go to the window to unlock it. "Ben what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't miss your birthday." He smirks as you take his hand to help him into your bedroom.

"What about school?"

"Wasn't a good fit." Ben pushes his dark hair out of his eyes and you try not to think about what it would be like to do it yourself.

"Uh-huh. What you're really saying is that you flunked out of another boarding school just to make it back for my birthday. Right?" You laugh.

"Thought it would be a nice birthday surprise." He leans forward with a smirk. "Would you like to unwrap your present?"

You roll your eyes and raise a hand to push him back, but he catches it against his chest.

"Come on. You're telling me that you didn't miss me? Not even a little?" Ben pretends to be hurt.

Of course you missed him. When he wasn't there it felt like apart of you was gone, but you couldn't tell him that. You knew that Ben didn't feel the same way. He was just flirty, all the time.

"No."

"Liar." He says. "How was the big party?"

"Oh it was the bee's knees." You snark. "I danced with Howard Stine and he stepped on my toes, my mother didn't let me eat and bought me a ridiculous dress-"

"Let me guess, pink?"

"Pink and ruffly. I looked like a giant cupcake."

"I'm sure Howard loved it." Ben sing-songs.

"Shut up." You punch his arm. "He's not that bad-"

"With a boring name like Howard, imagine how boring he'd be in-"

"Big talk from a guy named Benjamin." You interrupt.

The look in Ben's eyes darkens for a minute. "I'd be happy to prove you wrong."

You shake your head at him to stop the flush in your cheeks and avoid the way your breath catches in your chest at his words.

It would be so easy to give in to him, but you knew that Ben didn't see you that way. Ben had chased after anything and everything that caught his eye. If you were to give in, you were afraid of what would happen after. Ben was your best friend and if you crossed that line what would it mean?

"You're incorrigible."

"If that's another word for gorgeous then yes, yes I am."

You turn back to the bed and where your sketchbook waits, trying to calm your racing heart.

"But you don't want your birthday present?" Ben asks from behind you.

"What happened to you being the present?"

"I am a gift, but I did get you something."

You turn and see that Ben is holding out a package wrapped in gold paper a little bit larger than a book. Surprise momentarily spikes at the back of your mind. Ben had gotten you gifts in the past, but you hadn't expected one this year, especially since he just got out of boarding school.

"Did you steal it?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Not this time."

You take the box from his hand and sit down on your bed to peel back the paper. "I can't believe you actually wrapped this."

"The saleswoman did. Now she was really-"

"Don't need to know." You shake your head with a smile, eyes still on the gift. When you finally pull back the paper you can't help but smile. It's a box of watercolor paints, a package of brushes, and a small pad of watercolor paper. "Ben-" You look up at him with a wide smile. "Thank you!"

 "Do you like them?" Ben asks hesitantly, he looks almost nervous.

"I love them! I've never tried to paint before."

"I know. I remember said you wanted to try. Plus I thought you could do some nice nudes of me in color-" Ben smirks.

"Ben!" You snort.

“I’m just trying to help you learn how to draw anatomy.” He wets his lips with his tongue arching an eyebrow in a challenge. “Of course there are more fun ways that I could teach you that.”

“Ben!” You flush bright red.

“Sorry. Sometimes you’re too easy.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you.” You shake your head at him with a smile.

An odd look crosses his face, but it disappears as quickly as you see it.

"Honestly, thank you. I can't wait to try these out." You look back down at the paints, admiring the silver box they came in.

"You're welcome."

Ben hovers by the window at the edge of your room as if debating whether or not he should stay. After all these years you noticed that Ben had trouble with the idea that you genuinely wanted him there. You knew it stemmed from his father's constant disapproval and his father's constant need to push him away, and it made your heart break for him.

And yes, maybe Ben did fill his life with brief flings and alcohol, but he was still your Ben.

"You’re going to stay right? Because you’ve already missed my birthday and I’d like to know how you got kicked out of boarding school number five.”

He nods once a small smile quirking the edge of his lips before he removes the dark jacket with the embossed prestigious logo of the aforementioned boarding school. It catches on his shoulders and you look away before he can see your blush.

“Are you hungry?”

Ben shakes his head.

“Ben, when was the last time you put something in your stomach besides alcohol?” You raise an eyebrow. He couldn’t lie to you and you knew he was only saying no because he didn’t want you to have to creep downstairs in the dark and also because he didn’t want to admit that he was hungry.

“Earlier.” He says it with a shrug, looking down at the coat in his hands to avoid your gaze.

“Well I was going to go see if I could find some of that birthday cake anyway. I haven’t eaten since this morning and all I had was half a grapefruit.”

“Another diet?” Ben frowns.

“Mother thinks I can slim down a little more. Says that I’d get more suitors if my hips were not so big.” You try not to dwell too much on it, you’d been dealing with your mother’s constant berating  since you were born. The corset you’d worn at the party was so tight that it left bruises on your hips and under your arms, but your mother had been pleased with how it looked. “She won’t be happy until I’m thinner than a chicken bone I suppose.” Instead of looking at Ben you stand and turn to look at yourself in the full length mirror in the corner. You never thought that your hips were too big or that your chest was, yes you were more curvy than any of your friends but you liked it.

"You shouldn't listen to her."

You shrug.

"I'm serious y/n. You're-" Ben stops talking.

"What?" You turn to look at him again eyes wide and open.

"Well you're-" Ben looks nervous again, tightening his hands on the dark jacket. He swallows. "You're not fat." Ben finishes.

"Well I don't think I'm fat Ben, but thank you." You can't help but be a little disappointed with his answer, you were hoping that he would say that you were beautiful.

My mother thinks I’m fat. You try not to wince when you think it, but instead you focus back on Ben.

"Alright, stay here. Try not to wake my parents up."

"Trust me that's the last thing on my mind doll."

*************************************************

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Taglist: @roseblue373

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #the boys fanfic #soldier boy #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys series

[killshotbabe]

Title | Acquainted

Pairing | billionaire!Jaehyun x bodyguard!reader ft. NCT

Warnings | minors dni! slightly rude!Jaehyun, Jaehyun and reader “don’t get along”, use of swear words, brief mention of a bad injury (not to main pairing) sexual tension, solo masturbation, voyeur tendencies, fingering, face riding, choking, smut, slightly rough, unprotected sex (please wear protection!) creampie, slight breeding kink?

Word count | 4k (Got carried away oops!)

Song(s) | My All - Larissa Lambert (cover), Hopeless - Always Never

A.N | This was so goddamn long than originally planned but enjoy!

//

“Maybe you should leave.”

He suggested, cutting you off mid-sentence as you were explaining why it would better for him to take another route you’ve spent some time going over with the private personnel.

It had gone through the approval of your chief in charge as well having to have earned his full trust in the past but what you didn’t expect was for Jaehyun, your current boss in flesh, to reject your entrance and exit plans for the upcoming 50th charity ball he’s going to be attending in a few in two weeks.

The charity ball that was supposed to be tended by his father but after suffering what happens to be his third stroke, he made an ultimate decision to pass his head of position down to his only son, Jaehyun, who’s going to eventually earn it anyway by the time his father succumbs into old age and eventually die and be buried six feet under but due to his worsening health, Jaehyun officially took over.

Not one blinked an eye after such huge announcement has been made.

Some would say it’s a bit “pre-mature” you think, but it was the only right thing to do.

After all, no one wanted the Jung Empire to crumble into its last feet and from what you heard, Jaehyun is quite popular despite being the youngest from the line-up of old, obnoxious balding men.

It wasn’t like as if he preferred to live a different life — he had the option to do so, but he’s always wanted to follow his father’s footsteps since the very young age. He went from eavesdropping to his father’s meetings behind the door, and sometimes he would bring his toy cars into his father’s study and sit on the plush carpet as his father spoke to the phone, ball point always on-hand, glass of wine to the side. Jaehyun did this for as long as he can remember until they began to fit him into custom tailored suits to wear when he goes to his father’s meetings with him or without him which he had been tending to for the past few months, so this was not something new to him.

The new thing, though, was you being appointed his new private bodyguard due to the increasing tension coming from the outsiders who are threatened by Jaehyun’s sudden take-over. From what you do know, they have been keeping an eye on his father since the news of his illness (which the private sector has tried to keep in the shadows) leaked to the press, spiking gossips and rumours from nobodies. This also caused a major rift, threatening the future of the company Mr. Jung has been taking a great care of for decades, and even if he may be the nicest person in the world of business — he’s more prone to having enemies waiting for him to fall apart and now that Jaehyun has begun his long journey as the new head of The Jung enterprise, a new target has now been placed on the back of his head.

All was left is for him to try and dodge the bullet with your help, of course.

But that wasn’t going to happen easily — not when he’s not been a good sport to you.

At first, you thought he was just getting used to being the new chairman so you decided to back off and let him take a breather, but soon you find out he does have a rather mean streak and preferred to be alone and do everything alone. He doesn’t really speak to anyone at home too. You would see him chat with the head maid from time to time and maybe greet the security and other staff guarding his home but that was about it, he had no close relationship with them even if they worked with him and Mr. Jung for a while, which you find quite sad, but it was still none of your business.

You’ve only been here for around two weeks and you do reside in his home as well, but it did feel like you lived else where.

His luxurious house — composed of a total of four levels, shiny marbled floors and expensive hand-picked art adoring the wide plains of the black tourmaline walls felt rather strange to you. It was often quiet whenever you walked into the hallway at the dead of the night with the occasional swoosh from the french windows gracing your sharp hearing. You’ve only spent an ample of time doing security checks around his home but you haven’t been to any specific rooms even if you do memorize the entire floor plan and know which room is which, including the hidden underground bunker built into the house which you hope you wouldn’t end up using at all if shit does hit the fan.

Other than yourself, the security and the rest of the morning staff do not reside in his home but in a separate complex nearby so technically, it was just you and Jaehyun confined in such a huge space.

Mr. Jung lived somewhere else which you have been once or twice but compared to your first impression to both, you’d rather stay at Mr. Jung’s just because it felt like someone was actually living there and you don’t really mind the smell of tobacco. Here, at Jaehyun’s however, didn’t feel like that at all. You wouldn’t even know if he’s at home if the cctv didn’t notify you of his arrival (and your phone too because you can actually track his whereabouts) or until you see a faint light from his study or anywhere else really.

Jaehyun didn’t like keeping bright lights on so his house appeared to be more eerie and colder when the sun is no longer in the horizon. You got used to it rather quickly though. It was peaceful, maybe too peaceful for your taste but it’s better than sleeping at your old apartment where the next door neighbours would often fight, their harsh words penetrating your thin walls, and plus, the head chef and maid cooks great food. You couldn’t complain about that when you have been given the chance to not worry about any groceries anymore to keep you alive and kicking.

You like to think you’ve hit a jackpot since accepting this newly-appointed job: to be Jaehyun’s second eyes and iron shield and you thought it was simple but things were never simple.

Life didn’t work like that but at the very least, you’re alive and breathing.

At least I’m alive and breathing.

You chanted like a mantra as you forced a lump in your throat, still holding your ground in front of Jaehyun who made no effort to even took at you in the eye.

“Jaehyun.”

You try again, stressing that he needs to approve your plan before you can fuck off the premises which you’ve been wanting do the moment you stepped a heeled foot into his spacious study. If it wasn’t for the low murmur of jazz playing softly from the turntable close to his mahogany desk, you would’ve yelled at him by now but you chose not to.

You pride yourself as his main bodyguard and you didn’t want him to treat you like some doormat.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He flipped through a couple of pages from a stack of papers he’s been reviewing for God knows how long and there was more, but he kept it tidy and very organized, and yet you can’t help but feel his mind may not be the same right at this moment. “I said no.”

“You could end up in a bad situation. Had you not realize your enemies are trying to threaten you lately?” You say, tone coming off stern than how you’d like it to be. “Have you not been noticing the extra security we’ve been adding for you this past week?”

He paused, sighing and you think you may have won a little but if anything, you just pissed him off even more.

“Just do whatever the fuck you want, alright? Your job is to protect me so take it upon yourself and move. No need to run it by me.”

You fought not to grit your teeth, composure still straight. “Well, you could’ve just said yes to begin with. Easy as that and I would be out the door.”

“Your plan has too many unnecessary changes.” He began to type on the keyboard, still not sparing you a glance. “I don’t like it but whatever makes you sleep at night.”

“I’m doing this for you.” You reminded, ready to turn your back to him and out. “A simple “yes” would’ve been easy and I follow a protocol which involves me to ask you for an approval first. Like it or not, this is in my contract and you, out of everyone else here, should know. Have good evening, Sir.”

You found yourself out of his study just like that and made your way to your room wanting to take a cold shower after your useless exchange with Jaehyun.

When you were gone, all he did was lean his head over his leather seat, eyes fluttering close with an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.

For the next week ahead of the charity ball event he’s sponsoring as one of the main ambassadors, you stuck by him always walking three steps ahead to clear the area before it’s deemed safe for him to move. You and your team stayed alert and hot on heels, especially when there have been a surge of crowds garnering for him and it did nothing but bring stress to you and your team. Not only had the threats against him and his family empire had gone worse, but his own “fangirls” as well.

You thought it was over once you and Jaehyun make it back home until you found two young girls that couldn’t be younger than eighteen taking pictures of the car he has used on the way back from a meeting.

The meeting was short and it was his only schedule this afternoon so you didn’t tag along but still dispatched two personnel from your team to be with him so you can finish your annual report your chief wants you to complete before the end of this week. It was by chance actually — you typing away with the security panel on your other screen when a lone taxi drove by the gates two times. Anything more than that was deemed suspicious you had to watch carefully and soon enough, you found yourself outside with girls’ camera on your hand which you had confiscated.

You recognized one of them as one of the socialite’s daughter which you do consider as a major threat — The Chois were just as powerful but they haven’t been on their A-game lately especially when they’re competing with Jaehyun.

You drummed your hand on top of the taxi’s roof, peering closer to the girls who are now blinking owlishly at you. One of them looking like they’re about to pee their pants after seeing your gun holstered to your belt loop.

“Are you girls here to see Jaehyun? He doesn’t give autographs.” You joked, other hand sifting through the gallery of their DSLR. “Do you guys work for some damn magazine I don’t know about?”

“No—um we,” The bleached blonde one stuttered as you deleted all of the shots they got of Jaehyun’s. “We’re fans of his…”

“Well, what do you know about him?” You raised a brow, satisfied with your neat work but refused to give it back to them yet. “Last time I checked he’s just some really powerful billionaire dude… Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

The brunette smacked the blonde’s one knee, attempting to stop her from responding to you and further reveal why they’re here to begin with. She did know who you are and you being a total cutthroat by your poise and how you held yourself whenever you’re with Jaehyun and she was scared of you, truly.

“We… won’t be back here anymore. I’m sorry.” She begged, round eyes trying to make you feel pity even if you already know the way she behaved whenever she’s there on sight when she’s not supposed to. “Please give the camera back to us…”

But you didn’t make it easy. If it’s not for their family then it’s possible that they’re working with whatever media outlet is after Jaehyun too.

Nonetheless, you decide to give the camera back considering it wasn’t chipped or anything which you checked before you cleared all of Jaehyun’s pictures.

“If I see you two out here again, you better stop what you’re doing and if you’re working for someone, put an end to it.” You tossed them the camera with a glare. “I’ll let you go this time but I won’t next time, then you’ll wish you never met me at all.”

The girls nodded quickly, blood draining off their faces as they begged for the taxi driver to floor it. You wait until they’re out of sight before heading back, meeting Jungwoo, one of the security personnel, on your way in to the foyer.

“Just some girls.” You shrug. You do make a note to do some more research about them later though. “Is he upstairs?”

“Yeah. He said he was going to sleep so I’m leaving now and rot out there. Don’t tell him I stole an orange from the kitchen.”

He grinned, showing you the round fruit in his palm.

Jungwoo was a new addition too, but you do think he built a better relationship with Jaehyun considering the fact that you caught them joking around at one point and you think that wasn’t fair.

You couldn’t blame Jungwoo though. He’s super chill and smiled a lot unlike you with your permanent scowl embedded in your face. It did bother you from time to time, but your relationship with Jaehyun has gone to shit since the beginning (for a reason you don’t know) and you think it’s because he just doesn’t like having a tail following him around even if the nature of his work required one.

To this day, you have already accepted your fate when it came to him. You were here not become his friend after all, and you can tell he sure he feels the same way.

Work was work and you had a contract to fulfil until then. You weren’t here for the sake of having your feelings involved.

“Bold of you to assume he’d notice.” You smiled, sending him away. “Just help yourself whenever!”

“K! Have a good rest of the afternoon! Mark also says he’ll be late for security check!”

“Got it!”

Once you heard the front doors shut, you climb back upstairs and back to you room to resume where you left off. By 7:30 pm, you find yourself waking up from an accidental nap you took in the middle of conducting your report. You cursed and planned to do your finishing touches but not without a cup of newly-brewed coffee on your side so you find yourself in the main kitchen, helping yourself up when the head maid padded down the hall, calling your name upon seeing you.

“Have you eaten yet?” She halted just beside you as you stirred a spoon into your coffee. “You can’t be drinking that without eating anything? I made mushroom soup for dinner. Made steak too with potatoes.”

“Maybe later I will, thanks.” You smiled sheepishly as you take a sip from your mug. “I just had a snack so…”

“You could’ve just joined Jaehyun earlier.” She whispered, teasing you with a pinch on your elbow which caused you break into a sudden yelp. “He looked really tense…Almost felt bad for the steak.”

You shook your head, placing your cup on the counter, folding your arms to mimic the head maid.

“Isn’t he always?”

“True, but he just looks lonely being alone there I keep wondering why you two won’t just eat together.”

You could only shrug, the visual of him sitting alone eating dinner in a huge table wracking your brain.

“We don’t get along.”

“Oh c’mon…” The older lady rolled her eyes at your predicament. “I’m getting real sick of watching the two of you avoiding each other like the black plague unless you’re out to chaperone him. We thought you’d would work especially when you’re around his age, and I know he can be a pain in the ass but why not try with him? This house is too damn big already.”

“You know I’m just here for work…” You murmur, letting her words affect you a little anyway because she was the only one who could sense how you really felt no matter how many times you voluntarily plunged yourself in denial.

You remember the first time they introduced you to him just a couple of weeks go.

It was on sunny day and the start of fall. You always liked fall because there’s always a positive shift in the air even if it slowly got colder. You like to think of it as letting go of the dead things you can no longer care, or hold closely to your heart that you’ve wanted to get rid of as your life went by.

From your old position to becoming Jaehyun’s bodyguard did raise a lot of new opportunities and new surroundings as it required you to move to his place. You were giddy and quite excited, wanting to leave you former apartment situated in busy area from not-so-good side of the city. The raise was also splendid— you think if you keep this position for one year you’d be able to buy a better apartment elsewhere and have a whole space for yourself and you know you will eventually get there.

But what you didn’t really expect was how rude Jaehyun had treated you since the beginning.

When you were introduced to him by your chief, all he did was nod and went on his day with you tailing after him as you shadowed his old bodyguard days before they were to be dispatched overseas permanently. It was nice when the bodyguard was there until you woke up in his shoes, now calling all shots and leading the whole team which had been exhilarating at first, but you knew your capabilities and thought highly of yourself, even if Jaehyun doesn’t really acknowledge or has ever initiated a conversation when you’re alone in a room with him.

You can’t really pinpoint what his deal was — you thought he might be misogynistic but that wasn’t the case. There were women in your team and he treated any woman no different like how he treated the rest, at least from what you noticed. You didn’t want to confront him about it as well seeing that it might just sound dumb and too far-fetched but your gut have been telling you there’s more to it. You just didn’t know how to approach him about it, not when he’s too busy and has other priorities to tend to than listen to what you have to say concerning your feelings.

He doesn’t even like the plans and changes you make for him regarding his entire safety, what more about how you really feel?

But you were still a human being and you know you will be treated as such so eventually, you’ll bring it up but not today, not anytime soon at least.

“And work it is…But try to get along, okay? I may not be here all the time but I can sense the sour atmosphere whenever I clean up.”

You chuckled, leering close to her. “Maybe it’s just the dead souls buried under the house trying to get your attention…”

“Hey, don’t say stuff like young lady! You know how superstitious I can get.” She backs off you, not liking the fact that you just brought up “ghosts”. “…Maybe I’ll sage the entire house the next time you guys are away again! Don’t want Jaehyun to smell it and complain.”

“I don’t think he’ll care. He hasn’t been to anywhere else but his floor lately.” You laugh, placing your hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “So do it anytime. I like the smell of it.”

“Fine, I will. Just because I like you like that.” She pats your hand, thanking you for your little massage before sending you off with your coffee. “And don’t ditch dinner!”

You make sure to eat around midnight, completely lost in you report.

You ate more than you could possibly take in one sitting but didn’t care if it was going to give you a stomach ache which you had attempted to sleep off, but around 3 am, you find yourself unable to go back to bed so naturally, you sat upright and leaned against your headboard, laptop on-hand and see if you maybe watch one of those scary indie games on youtube.

You found them weirdly comforting and often watched them but before you could put one on and have it lull you back to bed, the live footage of Jaehyun’s dim-lit room suddenly flashed into your screen in full-size.

You can’t help but panic a little since you were not supposed to watch him at such ungodly hour. You were given this specific access from hours 6-9 pm. That was the arrangement, but it didn’t mean your master access would disable the live feed during after hours. You have full control of it so it was all up to you, and it’s not like someone is actually keeping track of how many times you’d watch him, not when his room is only for your eyes and nobody else’s.

You were just about to hover your mouse to the top right corner of your screen and exit out of the window when he stirred in his sleep, calling your attention. Not even a couple of seconds later he, too, sat up and leaned against the headboard, mimicking your current position.

You raised a brow, feeling a little intimate with the current situation — he’s literally sitting there with his eyes closed and he had no shirt on, showing you what was hiding beneath his usual suit jacket.

You blinked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you found yourself peering closer, unable to take your eyes off him and his bare skin riddled with great abs. You knew he did work-out but still…

“What the fuck am I doing…” You shook your head in utter disbelief, feeling like a total creep now. “I should probably go to sleep.”

You smack yourself on the cheek and tried to exit out of the window when your peripheral vision caught him slide his hand under his blanket, palming himself with closed eyes, a serene look on his face.

You suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Your pupils practically quivered when he parted his pretty lips just slightly so he could spit on his hand before rubbing his bare cock with it again and again for you to see, instantly making you snap your thighs together as you became more hyperaware of what he was doing in front of you. You tried so hard to look away from the screen, shut your laptop close and forget this ever happened but you simply couldn’t look away — not when he just pulled the comforter down to his knees, revealing his hard cock — standing upright, hypnotizing you to come closer and see which you did, jaw going slack upon realizing he was, in fact, big too.

You watched him give himself a few generous pumps before he laid back down, a half-grin on his face as he continued to fuck himself in his fist. You like to think he’d made a sound from what you’re seeing and it only did nothing but make you wet, your arousal already soiling your underwear as you forced yourself not to do anything about it at all. You think you should feel any ounce of guilt right now, having to watch a very private moment, but your head had gone to mush and you just couldn’t bring your hand to exit out of the feed.

He was too beautiful, fucking himself into his fist like that with a lazy smile gracing his face — the type of smile you’ve never seen him do in person.

Oh, you wished you’d be the one making him feel good like that..

As he rutted himself into his fist, on the way to reach his peak, you found yourself snaking your hand between your legs now spreading it wide in front of the feed. You swore at how incredibly sensitive and soaked you’ve become as you moved your thong to the side, biting your lip when you smeared your wetness all over your aching pussy before eventually sliding two fingers in, your eyes blown with nothing but pure desire as you watched Jaehyun attentively, slowly pumping your fingers inside you in the same rhythm he was going.

When he eventually did come, rewarding you with spurts of his cum landing on his toned abs, you did too, with your hand clamping around your mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loud.

He went back to bed like that, his expression so peaceful as you tried to catch your breath, your own wetness slipping out of your cunt and on to your bedsheet between your trembling legs.

You didn’t sleep that night.

The morning hours before the commencement of the charity ball, you begrudgingly delivered Jaehyun’s three piece navy suit to his study thinking he wasn’t inside but at the rooftop pool.

Much to your horror, however, he was in fact inside his study and he was shirtless with just some grey sweats hanging low to his hips, jet black hair combed backwards and still damp from the shower he just took. You almost dropped the neatly-wrapped black box onto the floor when he advanced to your side to retrieve his phone from his desk. You cleared your throat, backing off. “It’s from Prada.”

“Yeah, and you were supposed to pick them up, right?”

You stopped on your heel, halfway his wing already. You didn’t think he’d catch on to be honest. You knew you were supposed to pick it up for him but because you didn’t get any sleep, you ended up sleeping in for a couple more hours until Mark, one of the night personnel, knocked on your door to pass you his daily report after he couldn’t find you somewhere in the ground floor.

“I’m sorry. I just missed my alarm.”

You lied, hoping he would just let it go. You didn’t even think he’d care about it at all. It’s not like you overslept the entire day and completely forgot about your tasks today.

You thought about him last night again, a flush of warmth creeping on your cheeks but you fought to push those sinful thoughts away.

“Well, don’t be late next time then?” He turned his back to you so he can open the box and examine what’s inside.

You scoffed, trying to look away from his nicely-sculpted back muscles and proceeded to be on your way out when he suddenly called your name for the first time since the first day you’ve been appointed to be his bodyguard.

It caught you off-guard for a second there but you refused to provide him with any type of reaction when you spun around and met his eyes.

He has an unreadable expression on his face — something you couldn’t quite read but it did nothing but make your heartbeats pump faster than normal.

He leaned his hips to his desk, lean and muscular arms perched behind him to the flat surface.

“You have a good eye, do you?”

You raised a brow, trying so hard not to cast your gaze from his neck and down south, his grey sweats mocking you. It was the same one he wore last night.

“… Maybe?” You trailed off, not that confident like he presumed you to be with your chin high, eyes almost as dark as the evening sky and your signature red lipstick painted perfectly on your lips.

You somehow didn’t have that on today like the usual and your long black hair, always pinned and tied, just flowing smoothly on your back.

He sensed there was something off, but he liked the look you sported today. It made you look younger and innocent-looking.

He wasn’t going to lie, it did tickle his fancy.

“Then come by later and help me choose what looks good.”

You feel his wondering eyes scrutinize you for the first time, and you couldn’t help but stay still, not breathing at all until he turned around and disappeared into a corner of his study, leaving you stranded in the middle of it all.

For how many times you wished he’d learn to acknowledge you, you now sincerely hoped he never did because with the way he was looking at you just now, you couldn’t help but feel there is something else in those dark brown eyes.

Whatever it was, you think you wouldn’t be ready for it.

//

“We’re taking my route.”

You announce as you got on the passenger side with Jungwoo behind the wheel.

You’re on your way to the charity ball right now with Jaehyun on his phone, conversation seemingly boring but you still listened, taking notes.

He’s put on a patterned suit jacket instead of the navy one Prada brought for him and he looked too gorgeous in it like he always did but today, you think this might be your favourite look of his so far — jet black hair pushed back with a strand falling on his forehead, his neck adorned with a dainty silver necklace accentuating his regality… You were quite bummed you didn’t end up choosing anything for him due to an emergency meeting he had to be a part of when he was getting ready too so you chose to take your time getting ready instead, picking a total of three outfits you’ve laid to your bed before eventually gunning for the satin number in ivory.

You like to think you didn’t do so bad yourself too. If not, this has been the most dressed you’ve been for this type of occasion. You think you could get used to this at some point but it was still a little overwhelming for you.

You didn’t like being a part crowds reeking of nothing but money and gin, and chatting with any socialites at all even if you had to just because you’re Jaehyun’s bodyguard. You wished you had Jungwoo’s or Johnny’s post, only situated up the corridors hiding from plain sight to watch for any suspicious and unusual activity. You had to be more alert for it, but at least they stayed in the shadows unlike what you’re going to be doing once you and Jaehyun arrive to the ball.

“Don’t keep a long distance but stray closer to him, alright?” Your chief instructed at least two days before the event. “Just received a note from the sector and said someone from there might try to harm him, so be on the look out. I’m sending more back up in case.”

Saying you’re not that nervous might be an understatement.

You practically shivered on your way out of the car, cursing at the lack of clothing you wore for the event. You did have an option to wear slacks, but you wanted to wear a dress this time around since slacks was your regular uniform, and you wanted to look like you’d blend into this type of crowd as well, not wanting to stand out like a sore thumb (which you already do) but least you could do is pretend.

Pretend that you’re a socialite for once and what chief said, “Act like his equally rich girlfriend.”

“I’m off. Rendezvous in…three hours?” Jungwoo hummed as Jaehyun took off, leaving you with Jungwoo by the staircase. You scoffed. “And…he’s off. Ugh, tell him not stay here for more than three or i’ll eat my fucking fist.”

“Make it two and a half. I hate shit like this.” You sighed, waving him off. “See ya. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Ay-ay Captain!”

Midway into the charity event, you started to yawn as you watched Jaehyun having a pleasant conversation with a group of older men, some of them without an arm candy or if they did have one, they were from the overseas — all tanned and blonde with a variety of luxurious brands all over their outfit.

You thought they were rather tacky so you looked away, reaching for another flute of champagne to get rid of the nasty taste of some fancy snack you tried earlier. Something about an “escargot,” which caused Jungwoo to cackle devilishly from your earbud before translating what you just ate.

You felt like gagging, hating the thought of snails being digested in you right now but since you couldn’t leave Jaehyun alone as he continued his rounds to mingle with every damn guest in the room, you had no choice but to suck it up and hope the champagne can help get rid of the taste.

You could only stand there, watching everyone like a hawk before your gaze eventually fell on Jaehyun who was casually smiling to a girl dressed in dainty blue chiffon, accentuating her slim build.

She was cute, couldn’t be younger than him and she’s patting him on the chest now, getting a little brave with her manicured hands.

“Butter knife just arrived.”

You cupped the earbud plugged in your ear, still keeping an eye on Jaehyun.

“He’s here? Jungwoo, is he alone?”

“No… wait— Johnny says there’s one more coming from south. White van — fuck, it’s Sanchez!” There was a harsh whisper on the other side. “You have to get Jaehyun out of there.”

“He’s fucking surrounded with girls, I just— continue reporting to me I’m getting him out now.”

You suppress the panic surging through your veins as you slowly approach Jaehyun now being flocked around by female socialites right in the middle of the ballroom.

“I don’t think anyone is suspicious in the ball right now — Yuta said but just, yeah get him out. Chief found Sanchez being a part of the Amos cartel. He’s a fucking traitor.”

“Yeah, I know. They’ve been on the radar for days. They’re invited aren’t they?”

You stop by your tracks before you proceed, finding a small gap between several bodies you can snake through and hopefully get Jaehyun out of there soon.

“Yeah. They’re under that old bastard, Brekker, so leave. Jaehyun did his talk part anyway.” Jungwoo snapped. “Mark is waiting right in front of your exit, right behind Centennial. Go.”

And so you did, now latching a hand around Jaehyun’s wrist, pulling him out of the growing crowd and into you.

“Sorry, ladies. Judgment calls!”

He waved, a little tipsy as you dragged him towards your left exit and into the hall, not letting him walk on his own without you tugging his hand.

You whipped your head around, noticing Jeno one of the back-up posted up far away from your left. You share a brief nod before you proceed to one of the shortcuts which led to a narrow dim-lit hall, dragging Jaehyun behind you, his hand now clasped around your wrist.

“Wait, wait— slow down!” He half-yelled, unable to catch on.

“No, we keep going and I’ll tell you after. Just let me do this, okay?” He was about to say something else when you called Jungwoo, using your free hand to tell him to shut it. “Jeno’s on watch. Is Chenle okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that kid. Are you almost out? Should take you no more than two minutes.”

“Yeah,” You walked hastily as Jaehyun jogged beside you. “I got Jaehyun with me. Will be out soon.”

“Okay, okay great you’re almost there and — what? Who?” There was a murmur and a static noise interrupting you conversation which caused your brows to furrow but you kept going, the sight of one of the unused doors just a couple of steps ahead of you.

“Shit! Hey, you guys keep going. I’ll call you later.”

You blinked rapidly, free hand fixed to your earphone. “What? No — what the hell?” You grumbled but let it go as you made it out of the building with Jaehyun who’s now looking at you, noticing your worry but decided to leave it be until you found yourselves on the backseat of Mark’s car.

“Jungwoo just ditched me and I don’t know what the hell is happening inside.” You pushed Jaehyun to the side, your arm fixed to his lap as you spoke to Mark, now exiting the back alleyway and into a different route avoiding the main street. “You got any updates?”

“They’re saying one of Amos’ people got into the corridor.” Mark said, eyes focused of the road. “Chenle found him but he wasn’t alone. He should be fine though, I trust him.”

“But who’s on that floor? We made a last minute change just earlier.”

“Renjun — hey, strap yourself up though I’m about to speed so we can get off the intersection. Don’t worry about the guys.” He said rather sternly to try and get your mind off the gutter but something felt wrong and you can feel it in your gut — and you were always right.

“You have to tell me when Jungwoo’s on.”

You sigh in defeat, still quite tense when you felt Jaehyun tug your seatbelt for you, coaxing you to slide it without saying anything on which you eventually did. You were so glad he didn’t even bother interjecting but kept quiet, letting you and Mark talk and fill in the creeping silence.

You muttered a “thanks” to Jaehyun but made sure to stay alert until Mark gets any updates or maybe yourself, but for some reason you had a feeling it wasn’t going to come to you.

//

“There has been a break-in the corridor. Surveillance team are okay, and Chenle’s in the ER. Cops are on site. Had to get everyone out of there but no one sustained any bad injuries. Chief’s on duty and says you did a good job. They will control the press when this gets out.”

Mark closed the door behind him, eyes on his phone. You swore under your breath and started to pace around of the hotel room you had booked in advanced when something like this takes place.

You thought of Chenle and clenched your jaw, glaring at Mark.

“It’s not your fault. He just miscalculated. Assailant went for his leg.”

“With a knife?” You exhaled and sat back down, Jaehyun just on the other bed, gaze falling on you and a slightly nervous Mark who couldn’t help but loosen his tie. “Please tell me it was a damn knife and it wasn’t deep.”

“Yeah, a little deep but he’ll live. Hey.” Mark squatted now as he levelled with your gaze with his. “I promise I’ll update you but I’ve gotta meet up with Jungwoo and Johnny and check surveillance around the compound, alright?”

“Yeah… Go, I’m sorry but please, please update me about Chenle, okay?”

“Will do. I know he’s your fave just because he’s the youngest. He’ll be okay. Yeah? Mark smiled, tapping your knee attempting to sooth you. “If he finds out you were so worried about him it might get to his head so simmer it down and try to get rest.”

“Okay…”

You watched Mark leave into the hallway as the door automatically closed, trapping you and Jaehyun in a hushed silence.

It didn’t fully sink in that you were alone with him in one room until he voluntarily broke the silence, tiredness in his deep voice so evident.

“Who was it this time?”

You slowly twisted your torso to face him.

“Brekker.”

“I trust that he’ll soon find himself behind the bars by you, right?”

His eyes remained closed as you slowly found yourself tracing the outline of his black slacks and all the way to his patterned suit jacket, and finally, his peaceful riddled face — the exact one you saw through the live feed last night as he gave you a slice of heaven.

A scarlet hue spread on your cheeks. He looked like he just jumped out of photoshoot whilst you sat there, looking a little out of it, dress semi-wrinkled and with your lipstick drying out into the cracks, eventually making it ooze out some blood. You rubbed a finger across it, flinching from the sting.

“We’re working on it and trying our best.”

You say a little quietly as your ear perked up to his relaxed “hmm”.

You attempted to distract yourself from the sheer worry coursing through you, so you decide to get up and head to the en suite bathroom to wash the minimal make up from your face and only slipped out after a quick bath, wearing a spare night wear as you darted back into the now dim-lit room, seeing Jaehyun had already fallen asleep in the same clothes.

You could only exhale, feeling like you’ve been holding your breath for so long.

You gave him a slow glance as you occupied the other bed adjacent to his, sliding yourself further to the other side of your bed before you switched your phone on to read two new messages from Mark. Chenle was still okay, but he will have to be confined in the hospital for a few days due to a nasty blow he endured by the ribs requiring immediate treatment.

You sighed, texting him back and Jungwoo before you placed your phone back on the bedside table, leaving the yellow glow from the lamp next to you, gradually lulling you to sleep.

You woke up at 3 am, all parched so you went for a drink then back to bed. You couldn’t go back to sleep, however, which resulted in a series of rolls and turns trying to find a position you’d be comfortable sleeping at.

“Can’t sleep?”

You gasped, back fully turned from a sleepy Jaehyun lying somewhere in the darkness.

Was he awake this whole time watching and hearing you struggle?

“I think.”

You pulled your comforter over your shoulder, now awake, glazed eyes staring up the ceiling. You traced the victorian details on the ceiling above you as you hear Jaehyun move.

From your peripheral vision, you can see the outline of his arm, his long sleeve now rolled up to his forearm, making you clench your jaw.

“You’re still thinking about Chenle?”

There was a genuine concern on his tone, which surprised you, but after what happened today, you knew he couldn’t afford to make you feel like you want to shoot yourself in the head, and if he hadn’t, you’re not sure if you’d even let him sleep. You could fight him if he did try to frustrate you more but this wasn’t bad — the calm was good. It soothed you even if you felt like you were about to cry earlier because of what happened to Chenle, though you did keep in mind that this was your first.

Just as long as they’re safe…

“A bit.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “He’s the youngest… I think I’d go crazy if something happened to him.”

“But he’s okay. And that’s all that matters, right?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed a lump in your throat, your back still facing him.

You could feel him stare at you now and it did nothing but send goosebumps all over your skin.

There was a suffocating silence that seemed to last for eternity and you thought you’d be able to just force yourself back to sleep somehow until you hear Jaehyun talk again.

“You did a good job today.”

His words alone made you blink owlishly.

You thought you were going to melt right there and then and you, so badly, want to hear him say that again than deal with his usual condescending tone but you couldn’t be greedy.

“Do you hate me?”

You asked out of blue, seeing as this might be the only right time you could have a heart-to-heart with him. The both of you are stuck in one small space after all.

You didn’t need to find him and vice versa, so you went for it after a sudden bravery shot up into the surface.

But he didn’t answer.

You were about to repeat yourself again when he cut you off.

“Maybe.”

“Really?” You scoffed, tongue poking to the side of your mouth. “You never really acknowledge me, you know?”

He was quiet as you tensed up, continuing on with your little rant anyway now that you had suddenly developed the nerve to try to find out what his deal was and why he seemed to not be fond of you at all.

“Since the day we met… We don’t eat together…We live in one house and yet—“

“I don’t think you want to know.”

Upon hearing him say that, you pulled yourself up from your bed, fists falling to your side as you stared at him in the dark. You could make out his face and everything else. It didn’t even seem like he moved any muscle at all, so you allow him to bask in his short-lived peace before you stood by the foot of his bed, fury embedded in your eyes.

“Don’t you have some basic human decency?” You try not to lose it. “You treat every body else nice but when it comes to me…”

“Don’t start.” He warned, still laying down but he’s now staring back at you, his dark eyes penetrating yours in an endless battle you drew upon yourselves.

“I want to know why and you will tell me.” You declared, not taking what he said as a warning. “Right. Now. Jaehyun.”

“You really want to have this conversation right now?” He was back on his feet now, towering over you as he inched closer to you, a bite of sheer frustration and anger in his next words. “You just piss me off. I didn’t want you.”

“Did I even do anything to you for you to hate me?” You barked back, chin up high as you attempt to stand your ground but you soon found yourself backing away as he continued to advance, threatening to trap you. “I don’t get you at all! I’m the best from the recruits and I don’t care if you have little faith on me—“

“I don’t care if you’re the best.” He jammed a hand just above your head, caging you against the cold wall. “But your chief shouldn’t have given you to me.”

“Why not? God, just stop being fucking cryptic and tell me!’ You yelled, one hand pushing him off by his chest only for him to grab your hand and spin you around, your cheek meeting the wall with a small gasp knocked out from your chest as he locked your arm behind you.

“You’re a lot. Fiery and always held your chin high no matter what. Makes me want to mess you up a little.” He rested his chin on your tensed shoulder, his next words in a light whisper, and yet it had venom, poisoning your bloodstream. “Calling all the shots, bossing me around, trying to fight me while you look like this?”

You let out a wanton gasp when you feel his callused hand run up and down your inner thigh, his intoxicating, manly warm scent invading your senses.

You think you might have blacked out for a moment when his warm hand made its way to the curve of your waist, the soft material of your camisole being lifted by his fingers as he rubbed your bare skin, his darkened gaze attentive to the pleased expression you made for him.

“Jaehyun—“

“Do you understand now?” You feel his plush lips brush your nape, his hand snaking all the way up your skin. “I thought I could get rid of you without having to do anything, thinking one day you’ll just walk out and leave but you stayed. Then I catch you touching yourself in your room a couple of times because you couldn’t be bothered to shut the fucking door close. You know I’m home.”

You feel your pussy throb as he proceeded to grope your bare breasts, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. “You keep doing it so many times I was starting to think you’re fucking crazy.”

You genuinely thought he wouldn’t be able to find out knowing he doesn’t lurk in your floor — but now you know he does and maybe, there was always this sick fantasy you kept to yourself, thinking that one day he’d catch on and have it all figured out. It was only a matter of time until he can pin you to the wall like now, and have him ruin you when he hates you so much, might as well use that to intensify the obvious sexual tension between the two of you with no romantic feelings involved.

Or…was there?

“I think you want to pursue this for me to fuck you like I hate you, yeah?” He chided, a low chuckle gracing your ear. “Answer.”

“I—“

“What happened to being confident?” You let out a small whine as he palmed your clothed cunt. “If I find you wet, you lose sweetheart.”

He didn’t even let you speak as he slipped his fingers into your underwear, rubbing your clit in circles. You can feel the sudden rush of wetness ooze out of your pussy, soaking the fabric and you couldn’t help but groan, your face heating up.

“Jaehyun… Please…”

You moaned, struggling with the way he has pushed you further down, back arched for him as he continued to play with your pussy, the hard ridge of his cock in his slacks grinding on your ass.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes…” You huffed, any ounce of anger being replaced by pure arousal surging through every part of your body. You don’t even think you could say anything as you attempt to tighten your legs around his hand, not wanting to come right there and then when he hasn’t even plunged a finger or two but he didn’t waste time, cutting you off as he eventually pumped a finger into your pulsating cunt, earning a matching groan of relief from the both of you.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He grinned deviously as you cried onto your arm, muffling the loud moans trying to escape from your throat. “Bet you can come without me fucking my cock into you.”

“F-fuck!” You screamed, eyes clamped shut when he rammed his fingers into you faster, building a steady rhythm until your legs started to shake under your weight, already about to reach your peak when he noticed, cursing at the way you would repeatedly squeeze your walls around his fingers.

“Do you wanna do me a favour?”

He kissed the side of your jaw as you shuddered beneath him, mouth hanging open but no sound threatening to spill out. You thought he has successfully rendered you speechless as your gaze started to blur, teardrops sliding down your rosy cheeks from how good he was giving it to you.

“Sit on my face.”

You almost came on his fingers after he said that if it wasn’t for how fast he slid his fingers out of you to drag you to his bed.

You literally collapsed on his chest as you weakly spread your thighs a part, his strong arms helping you out as he urged you to hover on top of him before he slipped your clothes and underwear off, letting it fall on the carpet.

Once you braced your hands on the headboard, a pinch of hesitation wracking your nerves, you feel him raise his head willingly and push your bare pussy into his waiting mouth, sucking and licking your surging wetness from your pussy, feeling like you’re about to explode.

“Jaehyun— f-fuck, right there…”

You hissed, knuckles turning white on the headboard as he slipped his tongue inside your hole, fucking you with his jaw flexing, hands tight around your waist you were so sure he was going to leave a mark. You fucked his face ruthlessly, him being the most eager one who kept pushing you down and down until he his tongue jutted in and out, licking your slick walls before he lapped onto your clit, ultimately bringing you to the brink of an intense orgasm about to knock you down.

You came in his face in no time, a loud cry leaving your lips as you shuddered violently, wanting to get off his face due to over-sensitivity but he forced you to sit still, his plush mouth tasting the mess you’ve made for him, his free hand cupping his hard cock in his slacks.

You clutched your chest, unable to contain how fast your heartbeats were as you tried to calm down, sliding off him. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, eyes on you, his now moist mouth where your pussy has been, spreading into a contented smile which you lazily returned. You sat there, mouth agape as you watch him unzip his pants, palming his cock right in front of you.

“Come here.”

You crawled to him, his hand reaching out to trace your jaw, thinking he wants you to taste him but he shook his head, his dark brown eyes blown with nothing but carnal desire. He was going to give you the chance to suck him off, but he just couldn’t wait to fuck you, so he urged you to sit, hand positioning the pink head of his cock for you to sink into as you begin to tremble, getting more soaked at the sight of his cock being offered for you to use.

“I want to feel you,” He groaned into your ear as you lifted your ass and brushed your pussy on the head of his cock, letting it rub some off dripping wetness all over your pussy before you carefully sank in, whimpering just halfway in. “Good girl… You can take it.”

Once he was fully in, Jaehyun sunk lower to his pillow, bringing you with him so he could fuck you relentlessly in this position, disabling you from doing anything else but rest on his toned chest and have him fuck you hard as he pleased. You arched your back, one hand fixed to the headboard as Jaehyun thrusted into you, causing you bounce up and down of his cock, his sweet mouth latched on one of your breasts, sucking and biting your nipple ever so lightly.

“H-harder… Fuck, Jaehyun-n!”

You drove your fists to his pillow as you and him shared an intense gaze after he sucked onto your breast and let go. He bit his lip, in complete awestruck with the way you were losing it for him like a good girl. You almost cried yet again from how fierce he was looking into your eyes when he reached out to grab the base of your throat, lightly pressing to the side and choking you as he drove his cock harder and faster, simultaneously hitting your g-spot too to bring you into another mind-blowing orgasm.

“Fucking cum.” He said between gritted teeth as you tilted your head backwards, tears sliding down your face, his cock disappearing in and out of your cunt, the muffled loud noise of lewd squelching between your bodies bouncing off the walls, disrupting the quiet at such ungodly hour. “C’mon pretty girl…Fuck yourself on my cock just like that, yeah? Good, good— fuck you’re so good to me…”

You rode Jaehyun harder, panting as you met his own thrusts, nearing to the edge until you felt something snap in you.

You screamed into your open palm, free hand locked around his wrist choking you when you came for the second time, trembling around his cock, squeezing him until he pulled out, about to ask you where you’d like it when hastily slipped his cock back into your pussy once again, leaving him no choice but force him to spill inside you.

“On pill.”

You chuckled breathlessly, feeling his cum slide out of you and into the base of his cock.

You watch him arch his back with a deep groan, his hands flexing on your waist as you slowly lifted yourself off him only to leave a trail of open-mouthed kiss down his toned abs until you’re just inches away from his cock. You didn’t even let him stop you when you licked the leftover cum from the base of his cock, not wasting any drop which caused him to grab you back up, his thumb wiping some off your lips and slipping it into you mouth for you to swallow.

“You’re fucking nasty. I guess I do like you.”

“Makes the both of us, don’t you think?”

You feel him circle a hand around your waist as you laid there with him, naked, eventually joining him under the covers.

“I agree. What do you think the head maid would say if she knew?”

“That her manifestation worked…? Jaehyun you should know this things. She’s into crystals, for God’s sake.”

//

“So far, it’s all clear. We’ve enhanced the security everywhere so I think it’s okay. It’s up to Jaehyun though if he’s good with staying at one of the rotational houses within the perimeter. Of course, you’d have to move with him too but you can take one of the personnel with you. We’re gonna have to suspend his public schedules for now until they finish the investigation. “

“Great.” You sighed as you padded down the white-washed hall with Mark, getting sick and tired of the strong antiseptic scent of the hospital. “Watch out for Chenle, too. He looked like he wanted to pluck his IV drip away and fuck out of here.”

“He did want to try it many times, but will do, and hey?”

You spun around as Mark gave you a brown envelope. You tucked it into your purse as he scratched the back of his neck, lips all pursed.

“What.”

“Make sure you don’t have the earbud activated when you’re alone with uh…Jaehyun.”

You blinked, a little confused until you felt your face go in flames, swearing at Mark and then playfully whacking him on the shoulder.

“Whatever!” You rolled your eyes, starting to bolt into a different direction to catch the elevator as Mark broke into a high-pitched laughter, giddily waving you off.

“I won’t tell chief! But I think you gotta buy Jungwoo some condolence wreath!”

#jaehyun smut #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #billionaire!jaehyunforever #kpop smut #killshotbabe #one shot smut #imsorryjungwoo

[meidui]

as you know, i am absolutely obsessed with 'seven years in heaven'. do you have any recommendations for similar fics where they teeter on the edge of a breakup or divorce, or where exes get back together? i'm looking for stories where the tension is all based on miscommunications and assumptions, and nobody is genuinely angry/there's no hate between them. i need that stupid yearning and longing when, in fact, they both still want each other. i've read a few but i can't get enough 😩✨

DO I EVER!! 🥰

In Too Deep by @fohatic

Steve knew that he was asking for trouble when he agreed to let the gallery auction off a date with him for charity, but he needed to get in the director's good books if he wanted to make it as an artist in this cutthroat town. He never imagined that his participation would ignite an outrageous bidding war, or that the infamous, billionaire ex that he hadn't seen since their sudden breakup two years prior would show up and stake his claim.

a *slightly* twisted, darker spin on meidui's "frequencies of sea and space"

frequencies of sea and space by meidui

“One mil,” a voice says, firmly, and Steve would recognise that voice anywhere. Like thick amber honey, like smoke from a fire, lighting him up and burning him down.

There are no higher bids.

Steve looks across the room and gazing back at him is the face he’s spent two years squeezing his eyes shut at night trying to block out, but those eyes meet his and it’s all over.

From the Ground Up by @omg-just-peachy

Tony and Steve broke up years ago and Tony never quite got over it. When they finally see each other again at Pepper's wedding, Rhodey convinces Tony this might just be his second chance.

Paint the Town Blue by @omg-just-peachy

Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.

I'll keep your brittle heart warm by @omg-just-peachy

They got married when they were young, just twenty-four years old, despite the arguments from their friends that they should wait, that neither of them were ready for a commitment like marriage so young. Steve distinctly remembered Sam pointing out that the male brain isn’t even fully developed until age twenty-five. But they were young and passionate, so sure they’d found their perfect person that they could overcome anything and everything life threw at them. 

And it was true.

For six months. 

it always leads to you by @arabellamonkey

Slowly at first, and then all of a sudden, everything made sense: the way Tony had looked at him that first time when Pepper had introduced them, the way his eyes were always searching for him everywhere they went, and how Tony had asked him about his suit, voice clearly flirty now that he thought about it again. And that smile, oh God, that smile… it had been the same he had given him all those years ago when they flirted in their kitchen. “Wait, you… you recognized me?” Steve asked, eyes wide and voice incredulous. Tony scoffed, expression still bemused, “don’t insult my intelligence, of course I did.” Steve stared at him, both eyebrows raised. “Okay, it might have taken me a few days to figure it out,” Tony ended up admitting.

*** Or, after breaking up five years ago because of heavy miscommunication, Steve gets assigned to be Tony's personal bodyguard.

dreamt of you all summer long by @ifmywishescametrue

Steve spends months after the breakup trying to forget Tony, but it never seems to work. That's alright, though, because Tony can't forget him either.

all I ever knew of love by @stovetuna

For six months, nobody knew that Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were dating.   Which means no one knows they broke up six weeks ago.

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by @sabrecmc

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.

Modern Love by @captainneverever

Tony drifts into a relationship with Steve after a one night stand. He thinks that Steve is modern and well adjusted to the 21st century but finds that Steve is old-fashioned in unexpected ways.

Captain Coffee by @captainneverever

Steve is content managing his own coffee shop and life is full with friends and neighbors. But an owner of big coffee chain pressures him to sell and someone from his past reappears. And now Steve needs to fight a bully, an ex, and himself to get his happy ending.

Never Worlds Apart by @kandisheek

It's been six years since he's seen Tony when he walks into his favorite diner and sees him sitting in their old booth, as if nothing ever happened. Steve can't believe the nerve of Tony to just show up out of the blue after the way he ended things.

Turns out Tony has a reason for wanting to make amends. And Steve doesn't appreciate only finding out about it after Tony has already almost died.

Plausible Deniability by nowalee

Tony and Steve broke up a month ago. Now, Tony is back because Fury wants him for an undercover mission. Only catch? Steve has to go with him, because the public doesn't know they broke up yet. It's a perfect cover.

And Tony can totally be alone on a mission with his ex who he isn't over yet. What could possibly go wrong?

You, Me and the Christmas Tree by @wikketkrikket

Steve thinks Tony is drinking. Tony thinks Steve is cheating. They both think their marriage is over. They are just going to give Peter one last family Christmas because he thinks everything is fine.

None of them are wrong, but none of them are right either. When Steve and Tony get snowed in together 3 days before Christmas, will the enforced proximity be the time they need to figure things out?

(Spoilers: yes, yes it will)

#if anyone has additions please add them because i also can't get enough 😌 #soliloquent-stark #asked #fic rec #stony #stevetony

[companionjones]

We’ll Always Have Cuba

Pairing: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Reader

Fandom: The Gray Man (Netflix)

Summary: After the events of The Gray Man, Claire and Six run off to Cuba because it doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the USA. There, they meet you. You are staying in the same apartment building as them for the summer. Over that summer, Six falls for you.

Warnings: None that I can think of, I skip over the smut

*******

    “You’re staring again.”

    Claire’s voice snapped Six out of the trance he was in as he gazed out the living room window. “Am not,” he childishly defended.

    “Are too.” Claire plopped down on the couch with her newest record folder in her lap. It was currently playing. Claire’s eyes scanned the words of the folder. “Is Y/n home?”

    Six turned away from the window. He glanced at the young girl as he headed for the front door. “Maybe,” he vaguely informed.

    “You’re a stalker!” she called after him as the door shut.

    He was far from that, he thought as he descended the stairs of the five-story apartment building. To be a stalker, one must follow a person places, and Six hadn’t done that in a couple months.

    Yes, he knew that sounded bad, but he was only checking to make sure you hadn’t been sent by the CIA to hurt him or Claire. His mental alarms were set off when you didn’t bat an eye at his code name, which Claire had presented to you as his real name. You just kept the same sweet (and beautiful) smile on your face and thanked them for welcoming you to the building.

    Six tried not to trust you after that. He followed you to stores and to the beach, looking for any sign that you weren’t the kind, gentle, and loving person that Six came to know you to be. He found nothing to contest what his instincts were saying about you. So, Six stopped following you, and consigned to only keeping a close eye on you while you were at the apartment building. Maybe too close an eye for what you warranted.

    “Oh, you’re a life-saver,” you smiled at Six as he started to help you with your bags. “One thing I won’t miss about this place: the five-floor walk-up.”

    He smirked at you. “It’s not so bad when you’ve got someone to talk to. That’s why I’m here.”

    You tried to hide a smile from Six, and that made his heart skip a beat. Because of that, the bags he was carrying seemed light as air.

    “You know, this was my last grocery trip here,” you pointed out as you and Six walked into the apartment you were staying at.

    Six’s brow furrowed when he felt his heart drop slightly. “You’re leaving at the end of next week, right?”

    “Yep.” You put the milk away, and opened the next bag. “I think the owner of this place told me that I’ve been at this Airbnb the longest out of his customer. A whole summer...And I really want to thank you and Claire for helping me feel more at home.”

    “No problem.” Six glanced at the ground to hide the sincerity behind his words. “Well, if that’s all you need...”

    Your eyes grew wide. “Oh! Yeah, you can go. I’ve got it from here. Thank you again!”

    “No problem,” Six repeated under his breath. He felt he needed to get out of there, or else he would end up saying something he would regret.

    “Hey, Six?”

    He turned around at the sound of your voice just in time to duck his head out of the way of a box. Of course, Six caught it. He read the English words on the box.

    Hubba Bubba Bubble Gum

    Six smiled.

    “I, um...found that at the store for you...I hope you like--”

    “I love it,” he interrupted you to say. “Thank you.”

    That put a smile on your face as well.

    Six popped one of the pieces into his mouth, and exited your apartment.

    “You’ve got it bad...” Claire teased as soon as Six came back into their living quarters.

    He snapped his fingers and pointed at her, “No, I don’t,” before moving to the kitchen to put away the gum.

    “Oh really? Then what’s that?” Claire leaned over the back of the couch as she referenced the present you had gotten Six.

    “None of your business,” Six warned with no real malice.

    Claire rolled her eyes. “Come on, Six. That’s just proof they’ve got it bad for you too. Why don’t you do something about it?”

    Six leaned on the counter and sighed. “You know why I can’t.”

    “Why? Because they’re leaving? That’s more of a reason to take the jump now, before you never see them again. And who knows, maybe they’ll--”

    “Not with the life we lead, Claire,” reminded Six.

    At that, Claire just shook her head. “You can’t let that hold you back forever, especially from stuff like this.”

    “Somewhere between getting kidnapped and running away to Cuba,” she shrugged.

    Six stood at the counter, contemplating for a moment more. Then, he figured he should go now before he talks himself out of it. Six marched toward the door, and yanked it open.

    And there you were.

    Both you and Six were shocked into silence.

    You were the first to speak. “Um, I know I have a couple weeks left, but I was wondering if you and Claire would like to come over for dinner, so I can properly thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

    Before Six said anything in return, Claire was off the couch and heading for her room. She gave a fake yawn. “I’m actually pretty tired. I think I’ll head to bed early tonight. You two kids have fun, though!” Her bedroom door shut behind her.

    “What was that about?” you said over a laugh.

    “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Six smiled, hiding his embarrassed. “You sure you want to make dinner?”

    You answered as if it were obvious. “Of course I’m sure. Plus, I’m going to miss you-guys,” you clarified. “Why not start the goodbye now?”

    Six could feel his heart clench in his chest, but he hid it well. He closed his front door behind him, and followed you to your apartment.

    A couple of hours later, Six couldn’t remember ever being as relaxed as he was right then. There was just something about you that put him at ease.

    “What are you thinking about?” you asked as you sat down next to him on the sofa, two refilled glasses of wine in hand.

    Six couldn’t find it within himself to lie to you. “You,” he answered sincerely.

    You blinking, obviously taken off guard by the response. You tried to hide your nervousness. “What about me?”

    He smiled as he elaborated, “You brought me here to thank me, but I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you.”

    “For what?”

    “For being you.” Six informed, “You showed me...that life can be normal.”

    “Can you tell me what you mean by that?”

    Six hesitated. “My life, my whole life...has always been...less than normal.”

    You smiled, “I know, Six. I’ve always known when it comes to you.”

    That threw him off guard. It even scared him a little. “What do you mean?”

    “Well, I can’t guess the details, but I always figured you and Claire have lead less than easy lives. It’s in how you carry yourselves, and how you treat each other. I mean, come on, your name is Six.”

    He chuckled. His worries were somehow put at ease by you somewhat understanding his past.

    “I’ve lived a life, too,” you admitted, “Let’s just say there’s a reason behind why I ran away to Cuba for a summer.”

    Six’s interest was peaked, but he wasn’t going to ask about it if you didn’t want to know about his past for the moment.

    You took a drawn-out sip of your wine. “I really don’t want to go back. This summer has just been so amazing. Plus, there’s you and Claire.”

    A part of Six wanted to ask what else was keeping you from going back, but he surprised both you and himself by what he said next. “Stay.”

    Your brow furrowed a little as your soft voice questioned, “What?”

    Six put his glass down on the coffee table. “Stay with me, with Claire.” He took your glass from you and put it next to his Six took your hands in his. “Please, sweetheart. I don’t want you to go.”

    “Where is this coming from?” came your worried question.

    “It’s coming from what I’ve felt since the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m sorry, I just can’t keep this inside anymore--mmhh.”

    You had cut him off with a kiss.

    Six relaxed against you, but he tensed up again when a thought crossed his mind. He broke the kiss. “I’ve killed people.” He bluntly stated. He couldn’t let the night go on without you knowing.

    “I know.”

    He realized you had guessed as much as you caressed his face between your hands.

    “That don’t change anything for me.” You pulled him in to kiss you again, and this time, Six accepted it wholeheartedly.

    Hours later, you and Six were curled up in your bed together, with you in his arms.

    He kissed the top of your head. “You know, my real name is Courtland Gentry. Court.”

    You smiled, “That’s a nice name.”

    He went on. “I actually prefer Six.”

    “Why’s that?”

    He shrugged. “Because, for the longest time, it was tied to my purpose in life, the CIA. The name Six helps me kill bad guys and help good guys. And it doesn’t help that my abusive dad gave me the name Court.”

    “But?” You had guessed correctly that that word was coming.

    He smiled, “But...I don’t know. I’m not a part of the CIA anymore, my dad’s long dead, and I got a new purpose in life now.”

    “Taking care of Claire?”

    “And you, if you’ll let me.”

    You bit your lip and nodded, cuddling closer to him. “I think I like Court. Courtland Gentry.” You tested the name out.

    Court smirked. “I definitely liked the way you said that.” He put a hand on your cheek and guided you back to his lips.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more stories over on my page, you should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#sierra six #sierra six x reader #courtland gentry #courtland gentry x reader #the gray man #the gray man x reader #the gray man netflix #ryan gosling #companion jones #we'll always have cuba

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 20A: I Don't Need Nothing When I'm By Your Side

So hold me close, better hang on tight Buckle up, baby, it's a bumpy ride We're two kids hitching down the road of life Our world, our fight

-- “Born To Be My Baby,” Bon Jovi (1988) [click here to listen]

North Carolina || February 1989

Jamie frowned, looking back and forth between the shelf he’d just put together and the three unpacked boxes of books (two marked CLAIRE, one marked JAMIE).

Would she like them organized alphabetically by author? Genre? Size?

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Or perhaps she wanted medical books in her workroom? And maybe he could put his music books on the cabinet in his studio –

“There you are.”

He hadn’t heard Claire pad into the room – at some point they would need to get throw rugs to protect the gorgeous old hardwood floors – and smiled as she effortlessly stepped into his embrace.

They held each other for a long moment – his lips against her hair, her face buried in the safety of his neck.

Almost three months since the acoustic tour had ended, the night before Claire’s birthday. About six weeks since they had closed on their dream house, nestled against a mountain in the forests of North Carolina, not too far from The Ridge. And about two weeks since the items in storage – from her packed-up apartment in Boston, and his packed-up house in Los Angeles – had arrived.

The property had everything they needed. Privacy and solitude, of course. An old barn that they were using as a garage for Jamie’s motorcycle and cars. The house – an old cabin, really, dating from the 1800s and which had been lovingly expanded over the years – was perfect. A spacious living room, complete with the original stone fireplace. An eat-in kitchen, with newly replaced appliances. Two small rooms off the back that were now his music studio and her workroom – spaces to pursue their interests. A modestly-sized master bedroom. And a small extra bedroom – which for now was for guests, though God willing would be a nursery very soon.

Claire had insisted on doing two things quickly, before spending their time unpacking all the boxes.

The first was to hang his six gold and two platinum records in his studio – and he agreed, after he had hung her framed medical school diploma on the wall of her workroom.

The second was to install the fax machine on the bare floor of the studio – which, together with the phone, was their only link to the outside world.

For as much as they isolated themselves in this beautiful, peaceful place – the world pushed along without them.

In March, they would leave for L.A. and three weeks of rehearsals with the band. Maybe play a few small gigs in clubs on the Sunset Strip – Jamie had always wanted to do that. And in April, they’d fly to Europe, and kick off the tour that had swelled to 120 dates and stretched into 1990.

Colum was busier than ever – finalizing logistics, negotiating with local promoters, running interference with the suits from the label, upgrading the concerts from arenas to soccer stadiums. He had a conference call with the band every Tuesday – with Ian calling in from Lallybroch in upstate New York, and Angus from various resort spots in Mexico and the Caribbean (“I can’t believe Charlotte and Molly haven’t worn him out yet,” Jamie had mused to Claire one day. She had only shrugged and said, “they take care of each other”). Colum would always have a punchlist of decisions for the band – OK to book studio time during the week off in Scandinavia in July? The roadies couldn’t figure out the pyro setup without the band, OK to wait until rehearsals? They would need to film at least three music videos, which one could be a live performance? – and follow up with decisions in a fax sent later that day.

Jamie had been clear with Colum that he had three conditions for the tour: that Claire would be with him, that Raymond would be traveling with the band, and that the same no alcohol/drugs/groupies rule from the acoustic tour would carry through to this tour. Of course Colum had agreed. Just as he’d agreed to make provisions for Jenny to periodically fly out to visit Ian, and for Angus to always have a suite with two bathrooms to keep his girlfriends happy.

Claire and Jamie knew that this tour would be difficult, for so many different reasons. But they would be better prepared this time, to draw strength from each other, and to have Raymond for support. And maybe, just maybe they would return home from Europe with the best souvenir of all…

“Another fax from Colum,” Claire murmured after a long while.

Jamie snorted against her hair. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.”

“I do admire how hard he’s working for you and for the band. And how much he’s keeping all of you in the loop on the decisions he’s making. He doesn’t want any surprises.”

“I’d imagine not. The amount of bullshit he has to be putting up with right now must be insane. I just hope he doesn’t crack.”

“He never said if he’s bringing Tricia on the tour.” Tricia – Colum’s wife of more than ten years. She stood a head taller than her husband, still impossibly beautiful in her late thirties, smiling for every frown on her husband’s face. Claire had only met her once – couldn’t say she really knew her – but she knew enough about her.

How she had first met Colum at a party in 1970, when he was a roadie for Led Zeppelin and she was part of a gaggle of groupies that held court at the Riot House in L.A.

How, when she and her girlfriends joined the Led Zep tour the following summer, he had punched out the lighting guy at the Cow Palace in San Francisco when he heard the guy didn’t understand what Tricia meant by saying “no”.

How Geordie Ash – the reporter who had put Jamie (and, in a way, Claire) on the map last year with that Rolling Stone article – had sent flowers to her hotel room every day for a month during Led Zeppelin’s 1973 U.S. tour. Not knowing, of course, that she was allergic to lilies – or how Colum, who knew more about her by that point than he cared to admit, had wordlessly disposed of them for her, every day that month.

“I don’t think she likes to tour.” Jamie’s thumb traced lazy circles on the skin of Claire’s back. “Too many bad memories.”

If you asked any rock journalist or musician who had found Alex MacGregor – assistant to Led Zeppelin manager Peter Grant – dead in his Seattle hotel room in the spring of 1975, they would all say quite confidently that it had been Colum Laird, who by that point had advanced to lead Zeppelin’s touring crew.

But a handful of people – Peter Grant, and Colum, and Jamie, and now Claire – knew the truth.

Tricia woke up, Alex cold beside her in bed, a needle in his arm. The only thing she knew to do was slip quietly down the hall, tumbling into Colum’s room…and finally, his arms. Where she had remained ever since.

“I couldn’t imagine being away from you for so long.” Claire sighed. “I don’t know how they make it work.”

Jamie shrugged. “They love each other very deeply. They fixed the broken pieces in each other. And now she has the two boys to keep her busy.” He kissed her forehead. “Something for us to aspire to, perhaps. What’s in the fax?”

She held it out for him to read. Sharing a smile at Colum’s scrawl.

J+C: I’m not calling because I interrupted enough moments between you on tour and I’ll probably do it again this year. I don’t have Raymond’s info pls have him get in touch so we have a copy of his credentials and the travel agent can make all arrangements for Europe. I got the label to foot the bill for his travel meals and hotels, convinced them it’s a business expense, you’re welcome. Stay out of trouble. Colum.

“We’ll have him give Colum a call after he arrives this afternoon,” Jamie mused, folding the fax and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Claire nodded. “The guest room is all ready. And I’m glad Dougal and Gillian and William will be here tomorrow – I’m so happy they’re so close by.”

Jamie squeezed her shoulder, and released her. “As am I. Now, I have a question for you about these books…”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #little bit better than i used to be

[planetbkg]

Thinking about frenemies to lovers with Alhaitham. Frenemies because the only reason you guys are “friends” is because your moms are lifelong friends.

You two grew up together but realized you didn’t actually like each other around age 7 or so. However, despite your mutual disdain for each other, your moms are still best friends, so your childhoods are full of joint family dinner, holidays, vacations.

You guys sort of alternate between friends and enemies. Friends for six months, enemies for the next. Around the time you two graduate high school, you two are in an enemies phase. You’d both be content if you never saw the other again.

You can’t wait to get rid of each other only to end up at the same university.

Despite what happens between you two, you have always looked out for each other. Like that time you were drunk and all your “friends” ditched you at party they dragged you to.

Alhaitham’s there in less than ten minutes…with a lecture.

“I told you they were no good.”

“Why the hell are you out on a Tuesday night anyway?”

“How are you feeling? Do you want to spend the night at my place?”

Or when he crashes his car in the middle of the night and no one answers his calls.

Except you, of course. You roll out of bed at 2 am and show up to the scene, plaid pajama pants and all.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“The car is totaled. Your parents are going to kill you…How the hell could you be so reckless?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

This year, Thanksgiving falls when you two are in another enemies phase. It's easier to carpool back to your hometown so even though you currently hate each other, Alhaitham is outside your apartment at noon ready to take you home.

"Thoma doesn't live far from us," you say, teeth chattering from the cold.

"Who the fuck is Thoma?" he asks. "Also, get in. It's freezing."

"My boyfriend."

Oh.

"So you're gonna trust a guy you've been dating for a few weeks over your lifetime best friend?"

"Best friend, my ass."

"Go get your stuff." Alhaitham says. "Our moms are expecting us to arrive together."

You roll your eyes. He's right, you never told your mom about Thoma let alone that he'd be driving you home for break.

"I'll be back in ten."

Alhaitham doesn't even like you platonically half the time, but hearing you call someone else your boyfriend makes him feel things he didn't know he felt.

Longest car ride of his life.

#alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #my writing #im sick over this concept #cue alhaitham being like 'i'm like a brother to them...that's why i'm feeling like this.' #like yeah sure buddy

[thevillainswhore]

Anywhere Away With You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader; other pairings but I don’t want to spoil anything!

Word Count: Over 11.5k

Summary: Old ghosts from your past threaten to disturb the peace you’ve made with your new life. Will temptation steer you away?

Warnings: Smut (‘daddy’ kink, finger-ing, mentions of oral, p in v, n-ipple play, derogatory names), flashbacks, angst, (Bucky is a warning here), emotional cheating? (I want to say this to cover all grounds)

A/N: unbeta’d, dividers by saradika

I’m sorry in advance for how long this piece is - I got an idea and literally ran with it, my head wouldn’t let me stop 🤣 hope you enjoy!

Romania - June 2019

The cool Romanian night air weaved through Bucky’s shoulder length hair as he walked the cobbled streets. He was glad he grew it out. A good change from his usual style. He felt free, more than he ever had before in his life and he was glad Steve pushed him to take this break before having to become the newly appointed CEO of his father’s company.

Peaceful. That’s how he would describe his time away. Traveling, sightseeing, learning new cultures. Bucky was extremely appreciative to have been able to experience the things he had and it was a journey he would never forget.

But seeing you, a total stranger on your own, dancing to your heart's content to a cheesy pop song across the road in a karaoke bar is an image that would be imprinted in his mind and heart forever. Your flowy silk red dress flawlessly wrapped around your curves and your gorgeous smile coated with crimson made Bucky feel like a teenage boy with a crush for the very first time.

So, it was by no means of his own when his feet walked themselves up to your carefree self, grabbed your hand to spin your body into his and dipped you, the words flowing out of his mouth as he introduced himself, “hello kisa, my name’s James and it would be my pleasure if I could dance with you tonight.”

He wasn’t sure why he gave you his real name, but it felt right in the moment and the feeling of being his authentic self out there had him divulging in all truths. In all honesty he didn’t know what had gotten into him, he wasn’t a seize the day kind of man, and definitely did not spontaneously introduce himself to strangers and ask to dance with them on the regular. But magic surrounded you that he was victim to and your ethereal glow called to him. It was a token he couldn’t pass up as his blue eyes pleaded with you to take a chance on him.

He wouldn’t have blamed you had you smacked him across his face and told him to get lost. Yet, he was pleasantly surprised at the full blown grin that split your face as you replied, “okay then James… show me what you’ve got.”

Not that he knew it then, but that moment had changed the course of his life forever. The six months he spent with you in Romania in your tiny little one bed apartment were some of the happiest moments he could remember. Details skip his mind when he tries to think of how you created an immeasurable connection in such little time.

He only remembers two parts of life: before you and after you.

It was a whirlwind romance. Had anyone known the story of the two of you, they’d have said you were crazy. Bucky didn’t see it like that though, you both may have been impulsive and reckless to trust a complete stranger, but there was an unknown force pulling the two of you together that made you click. As if you’d been waiting for each other all this time.

Even the small things mattered, like waking up with your head snuggled into his large chest. Your cute grumpy face from being woken up too early as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you. Cooking breakfast together and having food fights with the flour and eggs only to fall into the shower, where Bucky would tease at least two orgasms out of you with his thick fingers before fucking you against the screen door as you screamed his name.

It was bliss.

He learned that you were a journalist, who’s traveled across the world to write about your adventures from country to country. He learned that you had a best friend who encouraged you to expand your horizons and that’s the reason you were in Romania. He learned what you’re passionate about. Your hobbies, your fears, your dreams. He also got to learn that you’re a little freak in bed.

Not that he minded.

The serenity that those six months with you allowed him set the pathway for Bucky to truly find fulfillment in your presence and be the best version of himself when he was with you. It’s how he knew he was falling down the rabbit hole to deeper feelings. He dared to say he had already fallen in love with you.

And it was with that realisation that he created the downfall of the two of you. He knew you loved him, you’d told him so a month into your relationship and he wished he could’ve said it back every time. But he couldn’t comprehend the feeling of having something so precious in the palm of his hands. Didn’t want the responsibility of breaking your heart from his own foolishness in the long run. You never minded, always giving to never expect anything back in return.

You were too good for him. Too beautiful inside and out for him to be worthy of you.

That’s why he had to leave.

No note. No goodbye. Nothing. Just his rucksack packed with all his belongings on his shoulders as he took one last look at your sleeping form. Desperate to take in as much of you as he could before he deprived himself of your essence for the rest of his days to come.

New York - Present

“Helloo? Nat, is she okay? She's been like this for a while- oh! There you are sweetie, you zoned out on us again!” Wanda chuckles as your vision comes back into focus from your daydream.

You let out a weak laugh, “sorry Wands, my heads all over the place.”

It’s convincing enough, you think. The stress of upcoming events a good excuse to explain how far away your mind really is. Wanda is a great friend, truly so supportive and loving, but she doesn’t understand the ins and outs of your situation, hasn’t known you long enough to know the complexities that torment your memories.

Nat however does.

“Wanda, why don’t you go see how the caterers are getting on?”

Being the sweetheart she is, she agrees straight away, “yes! I can do that for you, I’ll be right back lovelies!” Natasha waits until she hears the door click shut and spins to set her eyes on you.

She chooses her words carefully. “You know sweets… you’ve been a little off-“

“I’m good, Romanoff”, you interrupt her firmly and then grimace in regret for snapping at her. It wasn’t her fault you were so fragile at the minute. Softening your tone, you try again, “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry about me, yeah? I’m good.”

Nat doesn’t look convinced, but you haven’t got the energy to go down that road and she knows it’s not the time to push you further. She can read you like an open book - one of the only people who can. Unaffordable to you right now though, not when you’ve got to paint the happy smile back onto your face to see through the night. It’s routine for you now.

Smoothing down your white sundress in the mirror, you ignore your best friend’s sympathetic gaze and turn around to walk out of the door.

Being away from home for so long has had its downfalls for Bucky. Although he needed these past couple of years to recharge and come back with a screwed on head to run his company as the CEO, he’s missed out on a lot. His best friend’s engagement being the main example.

He sees the love in Steve’s eyes. The pure happiness that radiates from his full being. It was hard to come back home and witness the dramatic change from the once bachelor, who was never interested in settling down, to hearing he had actually proposed to a woman. It stunned him, completely threw him for a loop, especially since Steve hadn’t mentioned anything over the phone while he had been away.

Nevertheless he was ecstatic for him, he knew what it felt like to completely fall head over heels for someone who makes life so much brighter. Someone who totally turns your world upside down in the most amazing way.

Too bad he lost that.

“Bucky, I can’t wait for you to meet her, honestly she’s so beautiful and kind and you’re gonna love her, I promise.” Steve blabbers on about his fiancé and Bucky can’t help but feel a stab of jealousy.

It should have been him engaged by now. It should have been him planning his wedding to the love of his life and annoying everyone else around him with his continuous declarations of love.

All he can do is hope Steve doesn’t notice his fake smile as he claps his hand onto his back and jokes, “well pal, you’re whipped now - can’t wait to see the woman who’s locked an old brute like you down.”

Luckily, Steve doesn’t notice the melancholy that takes over Bucky’s face, too absorbed into his own world of excitement to bother about anything else. He didn’t want anyone to see anyway, so he took in the guests and the decorations surrounding Steve’s beautiful garden of his home as they all waited for the woman who held Steve’s heart.

The click of your heels echoing through the hallways has the anxiety bubbling up further in your throat. Palms sweaty and knees wobbly. It wasn’t unusual to feel like this at big events you attended, but there was something in the air that had your nerves on edge, a sense of doom teasing you that there was something different about tonight.

Chatter and music from the party got louder the closer you got to the garden patio doors and your breaths were coming in faster. Nat caught up to you and spotted your struggle, coming to your aid and holding your arms.

“Hey, honey, breathe for me, there we go, deep breaths.”

You followed the rise and fall of Natasha’s chest to calm yourself down. Nerves were normal for you, yes, but you’d never felt like this abnormal before. Eventually, your breathing regulated and Nat bristles as you start laughing hysterically.

“God, what the fuck is wrong with me? I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Nat’s emerald eyes that hold so much sorrow for you bare deep into your soul. This was the woman who had been there for your worst moments, the times where you broke down in despair from heartbreak. Your best friend. She knew what was wrong, you knew that she knew what was wrong, but it was a promise made that stopped either of you from bringing up the elephant in the room. Your whole world would come crashing down and you were not ready for that outcome.

So with a heavy heart for you and a smile that was keeping you together, she murmured lightly, “c’mon you, we’ve got a show to run.”

Everyone turns around in unison to see the double doors from the decking open up to the guest of the hour walking through. Timid smile on her face as claps and whistles applaud her.

“There she is! Hi baby, come over here.”

Pride shines through Steve’s eyes as he holds his hand out for his fiancée to take hold of to help her step down the stairs. Cheers and wolf whistles from the crowd at the happy couple continue as Steve pulls her into his side and places a loving kiss on her forehead.

Bucky doesn’t pay attention to the commotion, lingering towards the back of all the guests as he looks into the general direction of where his best friend is. He can’t see Steve’s wife-to-be yet, but judging by the look on his face, he’s totally smitten with her, lovedrunk in his own little bubble of joy. Bad friend he may be, but Bucky just can’t stomach pretending to be happy for him whilst he’s stewing in his own misery of his fuckups.

Although, his quiet brooding doesn't last very long when he hears his name being called.

“Buck? Bucky, where are ya punk, you’ve gotta meet my girl! Hang on one second babe, I’ll find him, you’re gonna love him.”

Steve leaves his fiancée’s side in his quest to find his best friend, eager for the two most important people in his life to finally meet.

It takes everything in Bucky to not grimace when Steve spots him.

“There you are Buck, I’ve been looking all over for you! C’mon, I’ve gotta introduce the two of you.”

Reluctantly, Bucky follows his best friend as they approach a woman wearing a white sundress, back turned to them as she’s talking quietly to a redhead. The thrill on Steve’s face as they get closer increases tenfold as if it physically pained him to be away from his fiancée and as they stop just behind her, Steve places his hand on her waist and whispers loud enough into the curve of her neck for Bucky to hear.

“Baby, this is Bucky, my best friend and boss, who I’ve wanted you to meet for a long time.”

It’s almost like a scene from a movie, the way her hair fans out as she spins around, the skirt of her dress billowing in slow motion as her sweet perfume tickles his nose. But, he recognises that scent… recognises that candy like smell that’s buried deep into his mind-

The shatter of glass silences the whole party as all eyes dart to the scene of commotion. Bucky’s mouth gaping open and body stiff as stone when he finally sets his eyes on Steve’s bride to be.

You.

You are Steve’s fiancée.

“Jesus Buck, what’s a matter with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Steve’s chuckle laced with a hint of concern snaps you out of your reverie as he waves over cleaners to sort out the mess - shock leaving you almost paralysed as you take in the sight of the man, who still haunts your dreams, you haven’t seen since the night before he left all those years ago.

James hardly looks any different to how he did back in Romania. The long brunette hair - though now tied back into a bun - you used to run your nails through. His open blue shirt with a white vest underneath, reminding you of how you used to smooth your hands over his big, strong arms just to get a feel of him. And that gold chain resting against his chest donned with gold rings on his thick fingers that have your mind still going hazy with need.

“James, oh fuck James, yes, right there!”

“Yeah? You like that, kisa? You like how deep my cock feels in you?”

“Yes, baby yes! please, please don’t stop.”

“Then tell me, who’s fuckin’ you this good, hm?”

James gripped your throat and tightened his fingers to slightly cut off your oxygen, rendering you speechless with drool dripping down your chin.

“I fuckin’ said, tell me who’s makin’ you feel this good.”

“Y-you are, James!”

“Oh c’mon kisa, you know that’s not what I mean.” His chain swung back and forth above your face with each thrust he made. “I know you’re a cockdrunk little slut for me, but you’re not stupid. I’ll ask you one more time, and if you don’t tell me who the fuck is makin’ you moan like a whore, then I promise I’ll stop right now and leave you begging.”

That booted your brain back into gear.

“D-daddy!”, you stuttered, all but forcing your lust drunk mind to say it so he didn’t stop, “Daddy’s fucking me so good!”

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. That wasn’t so hard now was it?”

His condescending words only brought you closer to the edge, the coldness from the rings adorning his fingers added to your pleasure as he stroked your clit in a figure of eight.

The bastard knew you had a thing for his jewelry.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your climax approaching, legs trembling in the crevices of his arms as his cock repeatedly hit your g-spot.

James brought his lips to your ear and you could feel the salacious grin that split his face as he reveled in your filthy moans and whimpers. He knew you were close.

“I know you’re desperate to let go baby, so show Daddy how good he’s making that pretty pussy feel, Kisa.”

His final words had you screaming.

“Cum for me.”

A shiver racks through your body as you force the memory as far away as you can, eyes unwilling to lose contact with him as you cravingly soak in what you haven’t seen in so long. James’ stare is pathetically zoned in on you too, the rest of the party a blur in the background.

Reprimanding yourself for getting lost in his aura, you snap your head away from his direction, watching the cleaners sweep away the glass and mop up the spilled champagne, listening to Steve’s apologies for the inconvenience.

You look around to the rest of the guests and find all attention on your predicament, paranoia filling your mind that everyone knows the history between the two of you. Sneaking a peek at James and seeing his gaze still focused on you doesn’t help your situation in the slightest.

Luckily, Steve’s voice cuts through the tension he’s unaware exists as he turns back to you.

“As I was saying baby, this is Bucky. We’ve known each other since we were kids and he had to save my ass from all those back alley fights - now we work together. He may be my boss, but he’s still a punk.”

Guilt hits you like a truck as Steve talks about his best friend with so much fondness. The sickness that you’ve felt since the beginning of the day rising up your throat as you fight to stop the tears welling up. You couldn’t have known the two of them knew each other, Steve talking about a ‘Bucky’ you’d never met, having no alignment with your ‘James’. But the nagging feeling that this is all your fault drills into your brain.

Looking toward your fiancé and plastering what you hope is an honest smile on your face, you clear your throat and pray your voice doesn’t break, “oh yes, I remember you saying honey!”

Knowing you have to sell a lie, you turn to James and hope that your pleasantries don’t come across as fake as your smile, “Stevie here’s told me all about you. It’s really nice to finally meet you, Bucky.”

The tightening of his fist doesn’t go unnoticed by you at the mention of his apparent real name. It could also be your pretend act of not knowing each other, but he lost the privilege to know you the day he left you and you didn’t care for his discomfort right now.

“Stevie, I’m just gonna go sort out some last minute details with Natty and I’ll catch up with you later.” The excuse to high tail it out of this nightmare seems to go down well with your soon-to-be Husband as he hooks his arm around your waist and gives you a loving kiss as a farewell.

“Don’t be too long, babe. I’ll miss you.”

You’re not sure if the low growl you hear is a figment of your imagination or not, but you ignore it as you squeeze Steve’s hand and take off to find where Nat had run off to, keeping your head down to avoid any temptation of catching a last look at old strangers.

Spotting Nat laughing with Wanda and a handsome dark-skinned man, you dart into her direction and hook your arm with her to drag her away, “sorry guys, I just need to talk with Nat about- something. I’ll bring her right back!”

You don’t even give her a chance to end the conversation as you haul ass towards the side of the house, not missing a step as you feel yourself breaking.

“Hey! Babe-, Sweets, what’s going on?-“

“In a minute, Natasha.”

“Where are you takin-“

“In a minute.”

Natasha stays quiet as you round the corner to a hidden alcove, private enough for your mental breakdown to unleash.

You let go of her arm as you pace up and down the small path, muttering to yourself as you hold your head in your hands. Your best friend tries to be patient as you attempt to gather the strength to tell her what the hell just happened, but she’s too worried for you to stay silent.

“Honey, what the hell is going on?”

Standing stock still, you look up to the sky and release a shaky breath.

“It’s him, Nat.”

Not clueing in to what you mean, she asks, “what?”.

“He’s here.”

“Who?-“

“Him.”

Putting together what you mean by your words, her head whips into your direction and her eyes bulge out of her head.

“No-, honey no. Are you su-?”

“I’m not fucking stupid, Nat. Of course I’m sure! I just saw him.”

“I’m gonna let you off speaking to me like that this once.”

Defeated, you crouch down onto the ground and hold your hand over your mouth, muffled sobs spilling out for Nat to hear. She rushes to your side and brings you into her embrace, tilting your head to lean against her shoulder as she comforts you.

“Shit. Everything’s gonna be okay Sweets, I promise. We’ll figure something out.”

You’re not quite sure you believe her this time.

It had been a week since your episode at the engagement party. After Nat has assured you to not worry over anything yet (big fucking understatement), you got your act together and calmed yourself down - arriving back at the party with no tears in sight with Steve soon at your side, unknowing to your distress. The rest of the night went smoothly, chit chat with the guests and announcements of how happy everyone was for the two of you easing your anxiety to whether people had caught on or not.

And if you could feel eyes on you throughout the whole night? You told yourself you were imagining it.

Steve hadn’t sensed anything was wrong with you this week that had passed. A true blessing in disguise really. You had no idea how you could even begin to tell him that you knew ‘Bucky’. So your decision to keep it a secret was the best way to go about this, you concluded. You’re marrying Steve. Steve. And James was part of your past that you were not revisiting. That was that.

The ding of the elevator lets you know you’ve reached Steve’s floor at his work. Wanting to drop off some lunch for him since he told you he was working late tonight, you prepared his favourite meal and thought he’d appreciate you bringing it over. He always loved you surprising him at work, especially since he’d taken over command and had a lot on his plate while his boss had been away traveling.

You guess the clues had been in front of you all along.

Walking up to Steves’s office door, navigating your way through the eeriness of the darkness of the building, you knock. Concerned at the lack of answer, you try again, rapping your knuckles against the wood in your own signature style to let him know it’s you who’s knocking - yet to no avail, silence again.

You’re about to take your phone out of your bag to text your fiancé and ask where he is, when you feel a looming presence behind you, hairs on the back of your neck standing up in alarm.

“Steve’s not here.”

Seems like you can’t escape your past after all.

Whipping your head round to the deep gravelly voice you haven’t heard in so long, you see James. You’d recognise his voice anywhere. Eyes wide open and heart beating out of your chest as all you can do is stare into them steel blue eyes you used to get lost in all the time.

Home.

Shaking your head to stop the locked away thoughts from taking root at the forefront of your mind, you attempt to speak, to say something.

“Oh.”

‘Oh’? What the fuck is that?

Bucky speaks up again, “He stepped out for a last minute meeting with one of our partners.”

Taking a deep breath to cool your nerves, you attempt to speak again. This was your fiancés best friend, nothing more. You can do this.

“Um, okay, yeah that’s fine.”

Yeah, so much better.

You nod dumbly, head continuously bobbing up and down as you look anywhere but at him.

Turns out you can absolutely not ‘do this’ - the depths of his intense gaze zeroed in on you, shaking your confidence and leaving you making a quick exit to avoid the awkwardness.

“I’ll just- leave it on his desk, I guess. Could you tell him I stopped by? Thank you. Bye.”

Before you can even take your first step to leave, he interrupts you.

“So, you’re marrying him?”

Your surprise at his gall to bring up the elephant in the room has you reeling back, stopping you in your tracks. But the anger that stems from within at his audacity to even mention it soon takes over and allows your facade to entirely switch in a moment of braveness.

“We’re not doing this.”

“You’re breaking my heart, kisa.” Bucky’s whisper, just loud enough for you to hear through the abandoned top floor of his building, cracks away at another piece of your heart.

You swallow the lump in your throat but your voice still comes out trembling, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

The tight white dress shirt bulging over his large chest and black trousers fitted snug against his crotch didn’t do you any favours either - hands tucked into his pockets practically screaming at you to look at the veins of his forearms.

Fuck.

You take deep breaths and decide you need to get out of this dangerous situation, pushing yourself to walk by him, you’re startled as he holds out his arm to hold you still by your waist.

The shuddering sigh you let out is louder than you expect it to be. Glistening moonlight cascading over the two of you in the darkness of the office. You haven’t felt his touch in over three years and all you want to do is fall into his arms and never let him go. It had been too long since you felt the gentleness of his touch, the feel of his thumb rubbing circles onto your bare skin underneath your shirt, transporting your mind back to lazy mornings tangled in the sheets.

“Bucky! Stop it, you're tickling me!”

The scrape of his teeth against your neck had you squirming in his grasp, the sweat from your morning escapades gathering between your bare skin.

“God, I fuckin’ love how sensitive you are for me baby girl.”

“I can’t go another round Bucky, you're insatiable.”

“You sure about that, kotehok? Because I know for a fact that your little pussy is pulsing for my big cock.”

You're a prisoner to watch as he grinds against you, kissing down towards your tits that you know he’s a sucker for. “Fuck.”

“I also know that if I were to suck those pretty nipples into my mouth, you’d be putty in my hands. A cute little mess pleading for me to fill you up.”

He always knew what he was doing, pushing you to your limits. But he knew you could handle it.

“That’s not fair baby, you know how bad that gets me.”

He ran his tongue over your stiff peaks as you keened, sucking each nipple before his plump lips trailed down your belly to stop above your mound, dying to eat your pussy like a man starved.

“And you know how crazy I am for you, so sit back and relax while I get a taste of you baby. You can take it, you’re my good girl.”

Shit.

You rip yourself away from his grasp and back away as he reaches out for you again.

“Kisa-“

“I said, don’t.”

The demand in your tone has Bucky pulling his arm back to his side and hanging his head.

Not bearing to look at him, you walk away, missing your old flame deflate at the consequence of his own mistakes.

The next couple of days go by fast for you, distracting yourself with last minute wedding plans to keep your mind focused. Not wandering. You hadn’t seen Steve much, only briefly in the mornings before he had to leave for work and hardly getting to see him later in the day due to him tying up loose ends before the wedding.

It was another relief in all honesty. Your emotions have been going haywire ever since you found out Bucky was back and you weren't sure how you could hold yourself around Steve.

Again, the wrongfulness of your actions has your gut churning. You hadn’t cheated. But it wasn’t exactly fair to keep your fiancé in the dark like this. Steve hadn’t done anything wrong - he’d been nothing but loyal to you and treated you like you deserved throughout your relationship. He had never abandoned you, never left you wondering what must be so wrong with you to not be good enough staying for. So, why was your mind so conflicted?

You’re torn out of your inner conflict when you feel a dent in the bed.

“Steve?”

“Yeah baby, it’s just me.”

His sweet tone and pure happiness to see you has that nauseating feeling coming back.

“I was able to get off work early today. Finished handing over everything to Bucky so he can get started with the company.”

Yeah, you didn’t think it could get much worse, the mention of him having bile rise in your throat. Deciding to torment yourself even further, you poke the bear.

“Oh good, good. How is everything? Been nice having him back?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea. I missed him so much while he was away. We were two peas in a pod, y’know? Always causing trouble together.”

Your eyes start to sting and you thank every god out there that it’s dark enough in the room for Steve not being able to see.

“He also mentioned you dropped by work the other night, sorry I missed you honey. One of our partners needed to speak about something to do with the increasing costs, but you don’t wanna hear about that, I’m just glad to be home with you now.”

It takes everything in you not to start crying. The fact that Bucky had mentioned you has your mind spiraling - something Steve notices when you don’t say anything.

“Honey? Everything okay?”

Hastily moving into his side and snuggling up to him, you think fast to try and eradicate the negative trail this could go down, hugging him tight and willing yourself to chill out.

“Yeah of course, sorry Stevie. Just been stressed lately and I’ve missed you, that’s all.”

With the way he wraps an arm around you and pulls you tighter into his body, he seems content enough with your reasoning. His hand smoothing down your side and hiking your leg over his waist, a move you had gotten so familiar with and now feels so foreign.

“Shit, I’ve missed you so fuckin’ much too, sweetheart. How about I make it up to you, hm?”

This you can do. You can take your mind away from your worries and indulge in everything Steve for one night.

So as he rolls over you to lay you fully onto your back and starts to kiss down your neck, you cup the back of his head to bring him closer and avoid closing your eyes to prevent anyone else sneaking in your thoughts, basking in his soft touch and eagerness to please.

You can do this for him.

The dinner party Steve had arranged a couple of weeks before the big day consisted of inviting close friends to celebrate and enjoy an evening together with good food and drinks to let loose.

Dread was all you could feel.

You hadn’t spoken to Bucky since he cornered you at the office and any events that you both were attending, you made sure to stay clear from him. The risk of bumping into him again too great to let down your guard.

However, that idea was out the window as soon as you found out you were seated next to him at the dinner table.

Pulling Steve aside to casually question the seating arrangements had set your nerves alight for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Steve, sweetie... H-how come you’re not sat next to Bucky? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

He sighs as everyone else takes their place at the table and puts his hands over your cheeks, thumb rubbing your pouty lips. “I thought it’d be a fun idea to seat people next to someone they don’t really talk to, y’know let everyone get to know each other more. It makes all the games I’ve planned more fun.”

Steve looks over your worried expression and continues to try and put you at ease. “I know Buck’s a bit grumpy and he doesn’t talk much, but will you try and talk to him tonight? It would mean the world to me if you two got along, honey. Besides, he’s probably just missing his time across the world, someone like you will bring him right out of his shell.”

You can say that again.

Not wanting to make this harder for Steve, you smile and nod to which he pecks your lips and thanks you profusely for the effort you're making.

You already know Bucky is sitting down, looking over to see his chestnut locks tucked behind his ears with a hair tie on his wrist next to his gold bracelet. So with a final pep talk to yourself to get you through this dinner, you drag yourself to your seat and carefully sit down as quietly as possible to not draw attention to yourself.

Impossible when you can literally feel his eyes burning a hole through the side of your head.

Natasha’s subtle tapping on the empty plate across the table has you looking up at her, a raised eyebrow code for the two of you to ask if you’re going to be okay. The small nod you send back her way placates her for the time being.

You wouldn’t believe yourself either.

The gulp of wine you chug down does little to settle you, already grabbing the bottle to pour yourself another glass when you feel the timber of a low chuckle close to your ear.

“You always did like wine a little too much.”

You choke on air at the unexpected inside joke, the dark-skinned man you’d come to learn as Sam in the seat on your other side, patting your back to help you through your coughing fit. Throwing him a look of thankfulness as your cheeks flush hot in embarrassment, you sit forward in your seat again and grit your teeth to stop yourself from smacking Bucky across the face.

“Nervous, baby?”

Keeping your eyes straight forward is a task, but you refuse to play Bucky’s games. His sudden bravado throws you off your duty of keeping cool.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Your angry whisper only results in his growing amusement - that stupid smirk on his face you've seen many times in his moments of mischief.

Taking a look around the table, you see everyone in conversation with each other, unaware of yours and Bucky’s back and forth.

“Gotta get your attention somehow, baby girl, you ignored me the last time.”

You don’t give into his whims, his charm and sweet names threatening to derail your psyche when you’re not even halfway through the night. Instead you turn and start up a conversation with Sam, an old friend of Steve - and Bucky unfortunately -, to take your mind away from the arrogance your other way.

Little did you know this was just the start of it.

The next hour or so goes by more smoothly than the beginning of the night and you’re proud of yourself for managing to actually have some fun. That may very well be because you actively chose not to look in Bucky’s direction or give him a slither of your attention, but you’re still happy with yourself nonetheless.

Your newfound peace is disturbed when Wanda - the enthusiastic, innocent soul you have to remember you love - suggests an icebreaker game that has you, yet again, choking on air.

“Suck and blow! So, the rules are you have to pass this card to each other using only your mouth. If anyone drops it, they have to take a shot! Oh, this is gonna be so much fun!”

Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t catch a break.

The nervous look you send Steve literally begs him to raise concern, to say anything that will get you out of this nightmare. But being the perfect angel he is, he just sends a wink your way and shouts over the table “don’t worry sweetheart, I know you only have eyes for me.”

A sniper to the head would be more comfortable than this.

It’s burning torture as you watch the start of the game, the card beginning with Wanda as it’s sucked from her grasp by another friend of Steve’s. It goes down the line one by one and all you can do is sit and watch as it gets closer to Bucky.

You wish you could slow time down as Bucky sucks the card into his mouth, the turn of his head towards you signaling your turn in the game. If you react too slowly, everyone around you is going to get suspicious, react too quickly and you come across as too eager.

And those cerulean eyes that pin you down with a look you know all too well, don’t help your cause one bit.

Bracing yourself with a hand on the table and a hand on the back of your chair, your knuckles turn white as the death grip keeps you stable when you slowly lean forward. Your ears start to ring and the fact that Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you once makes your palms sweaty.

Pursing your lips, you close your eyes as you suction the card from his mouth and successfully take it in your grasp, applauding yourself internally at how smooth the transition went without you freaking out - too much.

Only for it all to come crashing down when a firm, calloused hand squeezes the meat of your thigh and has you releasing a gasp of air, eyes shooting open as the shock of the unexpected touch has the card leaving your mouth, fluttering downwards to land on the floor beside your feet.

The lack of distance between yours and Bucky’s open mouths has your head spinning, taking you back to those public rendezvous against a wall of a club bathroom and panting into each other's mouths as you scream praises to each other.

“Open that slutty mouth, now.”

James’ hand flew up to your jaw to pry your mouth open when you took too long to obey his orders. Leg hiked over his wait as he was two fingers deep in your cunt.

The wetness that landed on your tongue had you moaning louder when you realised that James had spat into your mouth, pussy fluttering around his thick fingers as his eyes darken.

“You want everyone to know how good Daddy’s fingers are making you feel, baby girl? Sure sounds like it.” His dirty grin only made more of your juices leak over him.

“Yes Daddy! Don’t wan’ you to stop, feels soo good.”

The slur in your voice had his cock harden against your leg, and you were sure you were going to pass out as he assured you. “Oh don’t worry, pretty baby. We’re about to see if you can take another one of Daddy’s fingers.”

And by the look on Bucky’s face, he knows all too well exactly what you’re thinking.

The boos and hollers of everyone else snap you back to reality, adjusting your stance and clearing your throat to blend in with the rest of them. Shouts of “loser” and chants of “shot” taking precedence over the wetness of your panties and the throbbing of your pussy that makes your thighs rub together.

You ignore Bucky’s stare, ignore everything else that threatens to consume you as you take the shot to forget about everything just for a short while. You can’t deal with it right now.

As the cheering dies down, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom, declaring that you’ll be right back after relieving yourself, which gains some laughter.

You’re too out of sight to see Bucky half assing an excuse to follow right after you. You also don’t see the look that crosses Steve’s face as he watches the two of you leave.

Bucky hears the telltale clicking off your heels, your announcement of heading to the bathroom a lie as he walks past it and up the stairs to find you leaning against the balcony railing on the roof, looking out at the stars. 

You know he’s there by the sound of the lock clicking shut, the defeat at avoiding this exact situation evident in your sigh. 

He gently walks to your side, almost afraid to scare you off like a baby deer and simply waits for you to start speaking.

“So, I guess this is where we talk.”

The laugh he lets out at your statement has you reluctantly smiling, unable not to love the crinkles that appear by his eyes. 

“I think it's overdue, don't you think?”

“I guess.” You pause as you try to think of what to say. “When did you get back home?”

“Not long ago, about 3 months. You?”

“Came home a couple of weeks after I knew you weren’t coming back.”

Heavy silence falls between the two of you. 

“Can I ask how you met Steve?”

You knew the question was coming, “Natasha introduced us.” You shrug and answer vaguely.

“Ah, the best friend. I remember you mentioning her.”

As you continue to stare out into the night, Bucky decides to carry on. “Do you remember when we used to climb up the stairs to rooftops like this back in Romania? We’d lay all those blankets down and I’d tell you all about the different constellations in the sky. You already knew all of them - always my smart baby girl - but you still let me go on about them because you loved hearing me talk about it.”

You can’t bare to think about the memories that come rushing in at his recollection. The ones that hold a special place in your heart - conversations of getting to know each other, the details of your life you were so willing to give up to him as he slow danced with you in the refrigerator light of your tiny kitchen. Too much for you to comprehend right now as you begin to go walk back inside. 

“Hey no-“ he reaches out to grab your arm to try and get you to listen to him. 

“Please don’t touch me”.  Tears race down your cheeks as you gather the strength to speak your mind. “You left. Do you know how long I waited for you to get in touch with me? How long I stayed in that apartment, thinking you’d be back?” You laugh, “silly me for thinking I was special enough for you to stay.”

“It wasn’t like that-“

“What was it then, Bucky? Because I didn’t get one phone call from you. Not even a text message to tell me you were okay. You ghosted me - abandoned me and then I see you again after all these years.” 

Bitterness takes over Bucky as he blurts out, “yeah, I see you’re really hurt - marrying someone else.”

You’re speechless at his audacity, sputtering to fire back at him, “what does it even matter to you anyway? You didn’t even love me, Bucky!” 

“Stop calling me that!” He deflects.

You ignore him. “What is this? What are you doing? Trying to claim me back as some fucking prize or something?”

“N-no, no! Of course not!”

“Then what, Bucky?!”

He finally snaps and tells the truth. “I want you back!”

All you can do is blink at him as he struggles to find what he wants to say. 

“Do you know how miserable I’ve been without you? How long the days were without you beside me, kisa? I know I ran baby, i know I fucked up. But I was scared, I didn’t want you to look back in a couple of years and wonder what you’ve been doing, wasting time with someone like me. I know better now though, I know how I feel.”

He pauses and gulps. 

“I do. I love you.”

The three words you had been dying to hear, but ever so patiently waited for back then cut your heart into pieces. What you would have given to be on the receiving end of his love when it mattered. But you’ve got a fiancé to think about, a wedding not long away to seal your fate to a man who thinks the world of you and shows it.

“Yeah?” You gulp and turn to walk away, mumbling over your shoulder, “well it’s too late for that now, Bucky.”

You’d love to say that you had been channeling your energy into Steve and proving how much he meant to you ever since your rooftop meeting with Bucky. You wanted to solidify how good you had it already, how you didn’t need to reminisce on memories with someone who lost you when you were perfectly happy with Steve.

But he hadn’t been around a lot lately and you started to grow worried when you had hardly spoken to him when you had a wedding coming up. So to see him leaned over his desk, hair disheveled and tie loose had you a little stunned - never had you once seen Steve in this state.

You cautiously walk towards him and fiddle with your fingers not knowing how to approach him. You keep a small distance and prepare to soothe him. 

“Is everything okay Stevie?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” 

His blunt statement with his gruff voice has you growing nervous, he hasn’t ever spoken to you like this. “W-what? I don’t know what you mean-“

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Steve doesn’t stop there. It makes your stomach drop, in fact, to see him turn around and notice his bloodshot eyes that look like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep recently, preparing for things to change.

“How do you really know Bucky?”

Your blood runs cold. The thought of Steve knowing the past between you and his best friend has you starting to shake. 

“S-steve, what are you t-talking about? He’s your best friend-“

“Tell me the truth.” His sternness in the raise of his voice has you stop talking immediately. “Y’know I thought it was a little weird at our engagement party when he couldn’t take his eyes off you, like he already knew you, but I let it go, it was easily something I could pass off. Then I heard he bumped into you at work, no biggie either, I wasn’t concerned. At least not until I see for myself how skittish you were over some stupid game. The longing looks he sent your way when you weren’t looking. So I went into my camera feed at work and boy, was I surprised to hear what he had to say, never mind the way he touched you.”

The tears can’t help but escape and you know there’s no getting out of this now.   

“So I’ll repeat myself, honey. Tell me the truth.”

And you do. You tell him every last detail of how you first met James. The karaoke bar in Romania. The six months you spent together in your apartment. How you fell in love with him. You also spill all your regrets. How you didn’t know how to tell Steve. How you never expected to see James again, never mind see him again as your fiancés best friend. You pour your heart out to the man who’s done nothing but love you unconditionally and you plead how sorry you are for everything. 

You see him process all the information once you finish. How he internalises the history between his soon-to-be wife and best friend he’s known since childhood. You know it’s not looking good for you. 

“Have you cheated?”

You're a bit taken back by his question but nevertheless answer straight away. “No! God, no Stevie, I swear.”

“Do you still want to marry me?”

“Yes. More than anything.” Again, you respond.

“Do you still love him?”

The pause in your response is enough of an answer for Steve and you fully expect him to call the wedding off, declare that he doesn’t want anything to do with you again. You wouldn’t blame him, you know all of this isn’t fair to him.

 

So the shock that runs through you when he takes both of your hands and kisses them multiple times is palpable, murmuring into them, “do you still love me?”

You do love Steve. You’re so grateful for everything he's done for you, for all the care and happiness he’s brought you. You don’t hesitate to answer him this time. 

“Of course I do.”

The smile that graces his face is award winning, the exact one that hooked you in when Natasha told you he was worth it - to give him a chance to make you whole again. 

“Okay. I can work with that.”

Everything hurts. Your dismissal of Bucky’s feelings, your ignorance to his attempts to just talk to you. He supposes it’s karma biting his ass for being so stupid. 

If he could go back in time and stay with you, in your one bedroom cosy little home away from his responsibilities as CEO and his fate of seeing you belong to someone else, he would - in a heartbeat. 

Bucky thinks back to your conversation on the roof, when he blurted out he loves you. He regrets telling you like that, but the desperation for you to be back in his arms, back where you were supposed to be was at an all time high. He was running out of options. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, because he really did, he just knew it shouldn’t have been said that way.

He should have grabbed you by your face and kissed you senseless back when you were together as he poured declarations of love into your soul. Looked into your eyes and whispered how lucky he was to have you as you lay underneath the Romanian stars. He was a fool. 

Steve was the deserving man, he thinks, watching him dance with his friends and blabber, even drunk, how in love with you he was. Bucky can’t help but clench his fists at the thought of Steve getting to hold you, kiss you, pleasure you. He’s never held resentment towards his best friend, but right now he was a jealous man. 

It drills home how bad of a friend he is to Steve though, Bucky may have had you first but he knows that doesn’t mean a thing when Steve was the one who picked up the pieces, unknowingly, of the ruins in your trust. Either way, it doesn’t deter the possessiveness and need Bucky feels over you. 

He shouldn’t be thinking like this at his best friend's bachelor party.

And speak of the devil, the drunken mess plops onto the seat next to Bucky with a dreamy look on his face. 

“Buck! James, why the hell aren’t you out there tearing up the floor with us?” There’s no slur in Steve’s words, but he does get very weird when he’s been drinking.

And Bucky doesn’t like the use of his first name coming out of someone else’s mouth other than yours. 

“Sorry Steve, just ain’t feeling it tonight, but don’t worry. I’ll be here watching you make a dick outta yourself.”

The bowl of laughter that bellows out of Steve has Bucky laughing for the first time in a while, the rivalry present in his mind disappearing to share a genuine moment with his best friend since childhood. It felt good.

“Yeah, I guess I am. I’m having a good time though, getting married to the woman of my dreams soon enough. What’s there not to be happy about, eh?”

That shuts down the ease found between the two of them. A grunt of acknowledgment from Bucky all he can offer in the souring of his mood.

Steve carries on, nonchalantly, as he swirls his drink. “It’s funny, y’know. Our taste in women. Who’d have thought that the woman id marry would be the one you were fucking whilst you were off on your travels.”

Alarm bells start ringing in Bucky’s head as he slowly turns his head in Steve’s direction, the lump in his throat hard to swallow - Steve knows. 

“Listen Steve, nothing happened-“

“Oh I know. Nothing’s happened while we’ve been together… doesn’t mean you don’t want to. I’ve seen the way you look at her. Don’t blame you to be honest.”

His collected composure throws Bucky off completely, the unease rattling him from the casual way he speaks of you. Bucky isn’t prepared for the dark tone that encases Steve as he goes on, however. 

“But just so you know, she’s marrying me. She chose me. You left her.” 

That pisses Bucky off. He knows all too well what he’s done, berated himself night and day for his mistake. He also knows you. You’re content with your situation - there’s no denying that. 

But, you could be happier. Bucky could be the reason you wake up every single day, loving life and looking forward to your future.

Not marrying someone out of regret.

He doesn’t say that though, let’s Steve have his moment and decides that if this is the end of their friendship, he’ll do it respectfully. 

So as Steve looks over to Bucky, daggers in his eyes for the man that got the girl first, he decides to leave him to himself and go home. Things hadn’t really been the same with Steve since Bucky had gotten back - a piece of his heart with you wherever you were. And then he saw you in your little white dress that reminded him of home and he knew his relationship with Steve couldn’t go back to what it was. 

“See ya round, pal.” 

He’ll miss Steve, truthfully. The little guy he protected from bullies twice the size of him. He knew they couldn’t come back from this though, in love with the same woman and unwilling to let her go. So he tips his head to his best friend, downs his drink and walks out the bar.

He wasn’t going to give up on you without a fight. 

Suffocating. 

The hairspray that clogged the air. Makeup scattered over the side tables. Your wedding dress that you could faintly hear your bridesmaids gush over. 

It was all white noise to you.

You loved this dress - adored it whenever you got to try it on at regular fittings. There may have been a twinge in your gut every time, but you always forced that feeling down. Aside from that, you appreciated how well the dress fit you and how stunning it makes you look.

All you wanted to do now was rip it off.

There was no more countdown to your wedding day. It’s happening today. Now. Whether you’re ready or not. 

Mind fogged over, you don’t hear Wanda’s fingers clicking in front of your face. “Sweetie, you there? You keep zoning out again.” 

It’s only a touch to the shoulder that brings you back out of your head, a perfectly manicured red nail seen from the corner of your eye to let you know it’s Natasha. 

“She’s just fine, our girl’s just busy thinking about how Steve’s going to rip this dress off later on.” The mixture of squeals of laughter and prudish whines from your bridal party have you grateful for Nat’s ability to deflect with ease.

“Why don’t we give the bride some space for a little bit, yeah? All you bitches are giving me a headache, never mind her.”

As you see the last flutter of a dress walk out the door from the reflection of the mirror, you turn to your best friend, the one person you don’t have to pretend with.

“How do I look, Natty?” The crack in your voice gives away your vulnerability, there’s no hiding with her anyway. 

“You know you look beautiful, babe.” A noncommittal hum from you is all she receives as you turn back around to continue looking over yourself.

She brings her face next to yours, giving you her most reassuring eyes and a hug that has fixed you multiple times. But you’re most grateful for the murmur in your ear for only you to hear. “I’m here for you, whatever you want to do, you know that right?” 

You do know that. Your maid of honour who would burn down the world to make your heart whole again. So you owe her the knowledge that you’re gonna be alright, that you’re okay with what’s gonna happen. 

“Maybe I should get married to you Romanoff, I think we’d make a killer couple.” The landing of your joke goes down well with her, the doom of your fate on the back burner for now.

And as she walks out the door to give you a couple of minutes to yourself, she throws a wink your way, speaking over her shoulder, “give me a time and place and I’ll be there, sweetheart.”

Why the hell did this church have to be so big? 

Trying to be stealthy and quiet in a church full of guests roaming around wasn't the easiest task Bucky had ever dealt with. A bridesmaid or a groomsman lurking around a corner had him almost shit himself a couple of times, but he had a plan set in motion and he wasn’t going to be easily deterred.  

The clock was ticking, and Bucky had to get to you, there was no time to waste.

Steve’s fault really because Bucky has full confidence you wouldn’t have picked somewhere like this to get married. A scenic forest setting or even a shotgun wedding much more your style - it gives him an extra push to find you. 

“You really doing this?” 

The voice of his old friend Sam stops Bucky in his tracks as he turns around and releases the door knob he was about to turn. It also doesn’t slip his mind that Sam is stationed outside of a specific door. No doubt another order of Steve. 

At least the search for you is over.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life, Sam.” And he hasn’t. Call him selfish, but he has to speak to you one last time to tell you how he feels. For you to see that he can’t let you go so easily. 

“And you love her?” Sam may be Steve’s friend as well as Bucky’s, however, the two of them have always gotten each other. Sam knew Bucky wouldn’t go to all this trouble for some random girl. 

Bucky doesn’t hesitate to answer his question. “More than you could ever know.” 

The crack in Sam’s steel armour, crossed arms and a wide stance becomes noticeable first by the subtle shake of his head. What he’s about to do isn’t great, but he also sees the longing in your eyes, the spark that brings you to life in the presence of Bucky. Steve doesn’t do that for you. 

“Shit.” Sam rubs a hand down his face and steps to the side. “Okay. You’ve got five minutes tops, that’s the best I can do.” And Bucky couldn’t be anymore grateful for his friend, a tip of his head to Sam to show his appreciation. 

“Five minutes is all I need.”

You’re sitting by the window when you hear the old wooden door creak open. Expecting Nat to check in with you for a final time before the big event, you don’t bother turning around.

“Don’t worry Nat, I’m good. I’ll be out in a sec.”

“You sure about that?”

Your reaction is similar to the first time you heard his deep tone after so long back at the office - head whipping round in shock to see James in a black suit with his hair pulled back. 

Why does he have to look so damn good? 

Standing up, you lift the skirt of your dress and stomp over to him. “Bucky? What the hell are you doing here?!”

He can’t even process your anger at seeing him before your wedding, stunned to silence at the beauty you radiate - you’re so beautiful it hurts.

“Holy shit, you look gorgeous.”

Affected by his response, shyness takes over you as you stutter - speechless in his presence yet again. 

“I had to see you, kisa.” The pet name reserved for you tugs at the ache already there in your heart. 

“James- Bucky, you can’t be here, I’m about to marry Steve.” 

“Don’t.”

You have an idea as to what he means, but you have to ask just to be sure, “don’t what?”

“Don’t marry him.” The way Bucky says it as if it’s so simple astounds you.

“You’ve gotta be kidd-“

He interrupts you before you can finish. “Please, just- hear me out for a second, please?” 

So you stay silent, a tiny piece of you wanting to hear what he has to say.

Bucky straightens the lapels of his jacket and prepares himself for the most important speech of his life. “In five years time, are you gonna look back and have no regrets? Can you tell me truthfully that if you marry Steve, you’re not gonna be wondering what else could’ve happened?”

Tremors start to rack through your body at his questions you don’t want to think about, too scared to really think about answers. Even so, Bucky carries on. 

“I know you love him, baby. But are you in love with him?”

You have to stop his rambling before he says something you can’t hear right now. “Buck-“

“Because I’m in love with you.” He interrupts you. “I’m so fuckin’ gone for you baby girl that I’m here begging you not to marry him.”

Tears threaten to ruin your makeup that took hours to perfect. 

“Runaway with me.”

It’s the last straw that breaks your resolve as you begin to sniffle.  

“We can go back to Romania and start over, or travel together, I don’t care as long as you’re with me.”

You finally speak, “you h-have a business to r-run, Bucky.”

“You think any of that matters to me when I can have you?”

He places his hands on your arms and rubs his palms up and down, giving you the comfort your body is screaming at you for but your mind battles against.  

“I know I left you before and I’m so fuckin’ sorry for breaking your heart. But I swear I’ll be better for you this time.”

Sliding his hands up to cup your cheeks, he leans forward and places a kiss on your cheek, so close to your mouth that you can feel his breath against your skin. Bucky puts his forehead against yours and whispers his last line that he prays will win you over. 

“I love you, kisa… take one more chance on me.”

“Ready, honey?”

As you stand at the double doors waiting to walk down the aisle, your mind races. Too overwhelmed to speak and only able to give Nat a firm nod in acceptance. 

“Let’s get this show on the road then.”

It’s hardly noticeable to you that the double doors open to reveal the altar, the aisle looking so much shorter than you hoped it to be.  

You couldn’t answer Bucky, head scrambled by his dump of love on you and his pleading for you to run away with him that you had to walk away from him. How could you just leave with the person who left you? 

But how could you live without him if you marry Steve?  

You don’t even realise you’re halfway down the aisle as you deathgrip Nat’s arm to the point of bruising - lack of expression on her face apart from a warm smile to not let anyone notice your spiraling. 

And then before you know it, you’re at the altar next to your fiancé and soon enough husband in just a couple of minutes.

The false bravado you showcase impresses yourself when you see no one is batting an eye at your downfall. You think you hear the priest begin the ceremony and go on with the usual spiel of vows and promises. Yet, It just feels like you’re underwater and you’re slowly sinking with no way to the surface. 

Somehow though, you manage to hear the subtle click of a side door towards the back, even through the jumbled mess of your mind. 

It’s like your mind actively seeks out the man who’s had a piece of your heart since you met him. James. The one who literally had you at ‘hello’. 

You remember how you felt as he caught you into a dip, the karaoke bar neon lights casting a luminescent glow over his features and those steel grey eyes breaking through your defenses.

Home.

So the cold panic that rushes over you as he sends one last tender smile your way, his crows feet sending your heart into overdrive, is instant. You don’t miss the single tear he lets escape and the bow of his head as he turns around and walks out of the church doors. 

No. 

Looking back towards Steve, you know he saw Bucky and the war going on inside your head by his forlorn expression. 

Steve. 

He deserves so much better than you. His kindness and patience with you proceeds anything you were worthy of. Them ocean blue eyes begging you not to go even after all he’s put up with. 

But they never were your blue. 

You drop his hands and back away, the rejection of his pleas hitting home as he knows what’s coming next. Sliding the sparkling engagement ring from your finger and placing it into his palm, you peck his cheek and whisper your apologies. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

You hate having to do this to him. You hate that you can’t give up a crucial part of your past to be in the present with him. But he deserved someone that could love him with their entire being, not you who could only give the smallest offering. 

It was time to start being honest with yourself - starting with following your heart and going after who you really want. 

The grin on your face at your epiphany is unstoppable, as you kick off your shoes, rip off your veil and grab the skirts of your dress. 

Then, you run. 

You ignore the gasps of outrage from all the guests, you don’t see the smirk on Nat’s face and Wanda smacking Nat’s arm out of shock as you finally give in to your true desires. You just keep on running.  

The church doors burst open and you race down the steps to see Bucky ducking his head to get in his mustang and starting the smooth engine to drive off. 

Shit. 

“JAMES!” 

He doesn’t hear your cries over the rumble of his car, and you push yourself to run faster. You have to catch up to him. 

“JAMES WAIT!”

Just as Bucky puts his foot down to accelerate, he hears the passenger door to his mustang whip open and his head snaps over - only to see his beautiful angel sitting in the passenger seat staring nervously into his eyes. 

“No fuckin’ way.”

 

His breathlessness makes you giggle as you nod your head in excitement, the way his face lights up at the sight of you and that gorgeous smile on his face has your stomach fluttering. 

This is what love should feel like. 

“Fuck, you actually did it, baby.”

“Nervous were we?”

Bucky lets out a huff of breath at your jab and shakes his head with fondness, unable to believe he’s really got his girl back. 

Not wasting a minute more, he pulls you in by the back of your head and kisses you with wild abandon, his tongue teasing its way in to dance with yours. You’ve missed him more than you were willing to admit - pouring all of your yearning over the years into the kiss. He pulls back when you both run out of oxygen and stares into your eyes as if this is all a dream. Bucky has you laughing once more as he pinches the skin of his arm just to double check. 

“So, where are we going, kisa?” Bucky waits for your response as he shifts the mustang into gear, car moving forward as he gets ready to prove how much you truly mean to him.

You lean your head back on the head rest and close your eyes, mind clear for the first time in a long while as the tires turf up the gravel and speed off.

The upturn of your lips has the spark you thought was gone inside you reigniting. And you know now this is where you’re supposed to be. 

“Anywhere as long as it’s with you, James.”

A/N: if you got this far, thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this one and there’s also potential for a second part should I feel there’s enough interest - I never learn 🤣

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan smut #bucky x you #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

New Years wishes

Week 5 of the Winter Writing Challenge

prompt: "I wanna be your last first kiss.“

Summary: After spending difficult six month without Marcus he surprises you for New Years Eve.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Rating: G

Warnings: fluff, also angst, little heartbreak, Marcus is having a tiny midlife crisis, but it all turns out good in the end

A/N: totally stealing from Greys Anatomy I'm not even sorry

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You don’t know why you let Charlotte talk you into going to her New Years eve party. You weren’t big on parties, and you definitely weren’t looking forward to this one. 

But you were looking forward to this year finally being over. 

That’s the only reason Charlotte used to talk you into coming to her party, to celebrating this year finally being over and to starting a new year which would hopefully bring you more than heartbreak. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your gaze landing on the necklace you were wearing. 

The necklace Marcus had gifted you for your first anniversary. 

It was a little cupcake on a golden chain, because it was through a cupcake that the two of you reconnected a year before. 

Marcus was Charlotte’s big brother. Growing up you had the biggest crush on him but it would almost take twenty years for it to finally become more. 

And it was a chance meeting. 

You were working in your little bakery, not far away from FBI headquarters and Marcus had moved to town after getting offered to be the leading agent of the art crime division. You would only learn later that this new job originally also entailed a new fiancé. 

But her loss was your gain in the end. Marcus started to spend all his lunch breaks in your little bakery, reconnecting and slowly falling in love with you. 

And things had been going perfectly. 

Eight months after you officially started dating he moved into your little house, just outside of the city you had inherited from your grandmother after she died. 

You were so in love with each other, that you really didn’t know how to react when Marcus wanted a break. 

It had been after another lengthier mission that Marcus had come home and asked for a some time apart. That he needed some time to think about his life and how he could be the best version of himself for you, and while it broke your heart, you were willing to give him everything he wanted if it made him feel better. 

That was almost six months ago and you had both only seen each other a handful of times. He assured you that it wasn’t you, that he had some things he needed to work out with himself and that you deserved to have the best version of himself if you still wanted him. 

Of course you wanted him. You would always want him. 

You were beyond confused, asking yourself if it was something you did that made him feel this way. 

You missed him. Every single day. 

You went from daydreaming about the future with him together, both of you planing your wedding, where you would live, how many children you would have, to lonely microwave dinners and reruns of the bachelor until you fell asleep in front of the TV.

Christmas had been beyond depressing. 

You never had much family left in the first place, and the last years had been spent with the Pike’s. You were invited of course, but you could not bring yourself to go there and spend the day with Marcus and his family, when you were hurting deep down about your relationship status. 

You had tried to talk to him since he moved out, but he had only asked for more time, telling you that he would understand if you were getting tired of waiting, that he did not want you to wait until he figured his shit out.

Charlotte had warned you that Marcus was supposed to be attending her party that day too, and your heart already was hurting only thinking about seeing him again, without being able to actually be with him. 

You just hoped that he would figure his issues out, because you could not keep living like this.

The taxi was driving through the busy city. 

Charlotte had asked you to make some cupcakes, so the taxi was taking you to your bakery where Charlotte’s husband Eddie would be waiting for you to help transport the cupcakes back to her place for the party. 

You could have just taken them to her yesterday, but she insisted she wanted them today. 

Paying the taxi driver you grabbed your purse and took a look around, trying to check if Eddie was there already, but all you found was a black town car with a driver waiting in front of it. Shrugging to yourself, you searched for your keys, making your way to the entrance of your bakery when you heard your name behind you.

Turning around you found the driver, an older looking man smiling at you, asking your name again.

„Uh, yeah?“ You answered confused. 

„Hello, I am Andrew. I am instructed to take you to your surprise,“ he said. 

„Which surprise?“ You asked. 

„I do not know. I only know I should take you there,“ he answered. 

„Who told you to take me there?“

„Marcus Pike.“

Before you got into the car you tried to call Marcus, but he did not pick up the phone. Then you tried to call Charlotte who only told you that she knew about a surprise, but she didn’t know what it was about. 

Still hesitant you sat in the backseat of the car, the radio quietly playing while the landscape flew by. 

After a while you had an of idea where you were going. 

One of your last dates with Marcus was spent house hunting. You had been searching for a while but could not find something you both liked immediately. You did however find a piece of land that you both fell in love with. It was overlooking the whole city while still not being to far out to commute to work every day, which you and Marcus could do together since you worked only two streets apart.

But before you could have made any further decisions, Marcus had asked for this… break. You were getting more nervous the more familiar your surroundings became, until the car stopped and you turned your head to look to the side, a sea of candles illuminating the night. 

The car door opened and Andrew gave you a warm smile. 

„I’ll wait here if you’ll need me,“ he said before he helped you out and walked back to the drivers side to get back into the car. 

You took a deep breath, before you slowly rounded the car and walked towards where you could already make out Marcus waiting for you, surrounded by what must be hundreds, if not thousands of candles. 

You were suddenly glad you had decided to wear your winter coat.

As if this whole set up wasn’t overwhelming enough, it was the first time you saw Marcus since the beginning of November. 

He was waiting for you in the middle of this set up, a soft smile on his completely shaven face. Nervously you sucked your bottom lip in, walking towards him, while you looked around, seeing that these candles seemed to make up a shape. Of what, you were not sure. 

„Hi,“ you heard Marcus say as you stopped in front of him. 

„Hey,“ you whispered. 

„You look… you look beautiful,“ he smiled, his hand reaching out to touch you, but stopping himself halfway through. You took a step closer, taking his hand and he sighed. 

„You shaved,“ you said and he smiled. 

„Yeah. I think I shaved my midlife crisis right off with the beard,“ he huffed nervously, his brown eyes set on you. He squeezed your hand. 

„I owe you an explanation. And the biggest apology of my life,“ he sighed, shaking his head to himself. He took your other hand before he looked at you. 

„Yeah. What happened? Was it something I did? I…“ you began but he shook his head. 

„Remember the undercover mission I had been on for a couple weeks in May?“ He asked. You nodded. 

„I ran into my ex wife.“

„Oh,“ you whispered. He took a deep breath. 

„And I let her fuck with my head. And then I ran into Theresa and I couldn’t talk to you, because of the Undercover thing and it left me with my stupid thoughts for two weeks up to the point where I was certain that something must be wrong with me and that you deserve so much better,“ he said.

„Marcus…“ you mumbled, shaking your head. 

„I know,“ he smiled sadly, „And instead of finally talking to you when I was back I pushed you away. You, the person I want to grow old with. I love you. So much. It’s…,“ he took a deep breath. 

„Charlotte told me how miserable you were. She also told me what an idiot I am. My therapist too,“ Marcus continued. 

„Therapist?“ You asked. 

He nodded. 

„Yeah. I wanted to find out what was wrong with me,“ he shrugged.

„There’s nothing wrong with you, baby. You’re just…“ you were looking for the right word. 

„An idiot?“ He offered. You smiled.

„Yeah. But you’re still my idiot,“ you said softly and he released a deep breath. 

„I’m so, so fucking sorry what I put you through these last months. If I could erase these last months, I would.“

You looked at him, your Marcus. There would be more talking about this in the future. Yes, these last months were hell, but he was here, right now. He loved you and you loved him. That was enough for the moment. 

You got on your tiptoes, your arms wrapping around Marcus and kissed him. He stumbled back surprised before his arms pulled you against him and he deepened the kiss. 

„I missed you so much. I’ll kill you if you ever hurt me like that again,“ you mumbled against his lips. 

„Never,“ he vowed, rubbing his nose over yours. 

„So… what is all this?“ You asked, looking up at him. 

„This… This could be our dream house,“ he said. He pulled away from you, taking your hand and started walking. 

„Right now, we could be standing in our living room. Fireplace right there, biggest couch we can find right here,“ he gestured. You smiled, following him. Now you could see the candles on the ground made out lines of different rooms.

„This,“ he lead you forward along the line, „could be the kitchen. Got you that big island you always wanted so you can have enough space to bake too,“ he winked and you grinned. 

„What’s on the other levels?“ You asked. He turned and pulled you in his arms. 

„Bathroom, Office, Guest Bedroom, Bedroom with walk in closet….“

„What about a nursery?“ You asked and he smiled shyly. 

„We can fit one in there too, I think,“ he mumbled and kissed you. 

„Two,“ you said and he nodded. 

„I gotta say, this is all very romantic but last time I checked we don’t own this piece of land.“

He hummed.

„When did you last check?“ He asked, a smile sneaking to his lips. 

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. 

„I signed the papers this morning. It’s yours,“ he said and your mouth dropped open in shock. 

„What?“ You gasped out. 

„I bought it. For you. For us, if you want. I just… I want to make you happy. I…“ you stopped him with your lips on his mouth. 

„You’re insane,“ you chuckled.

„Now you notice?“ He joked and you shook your head with a grin, letting your head rest against his chest when you heard the first firework go off, the sky glittering in pink lights. 

„What time is it?“ You asked and he looked at his watch. 

„Almost midnight,“ he whispered. 

You both looked up at the sky, more and more fireworks lighting up the sky. 

„I want to spend every single day of my life loving you. I wanna be your last first kiss. I wanna be the best version of myself for you,“ he whispered against your ear. You blinked the tears away, cuddling closer against him. 

„I love you,“ you mumbled against him. 

„Happy new year,“ he whispered, kissing your hair. You looked up at him, the man you loved.

„Happy new year.“

#my fic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #stephswinterwritingchallenge #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Electric Touch

Summary: You're helping Lars to explore his limitations with touch.

A/N: SO, (bear with me this is going to be a beast of an author's note okay?)

Y'all know that I'm a part of the Goosecord, a glorious server filled with even more glorious people. One of these beautiful humans in particular, I'm convinced is my UK doppelganger, and no you can't change my mind. I met her in July completely by accident when I fell in love with her writing style (her Ken is still my #1 favourite) and she introduced me to the Goosecord; We're on the same wavelength with A LOT. She's joined the short list of beautiful women I affectionately refer to as my "soul sisters" She's helped me through hurdles both creatively and personally over the last six months and I'll reach the character limit if I carry on and on about how truly wonderful she is and how grateful I am to have met her (you're stuck with me now for forever my dear 😘) Anywho, amongst the plethora of things we discovered we have in common, birthdays is one of them; we're less than a week apart and she shares her birthday with someone who was very special to me growing up. I wholly and completely believe in divine intervention and she came flying into my life as it started to fall apart.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm talking about my gorgeous partner in crime @ken-dom

All this to say, to celebrate this wonderful woman's birthday, I not only watched Lars And The Real Girl in its entirety, but decided I was going to jump with both feet into the Lars world and took a stab at writing him the first time in her honour. Be gentle friends I'm not great at the romance.

Usually, I put an NSFW on all of my work; for quite possibly the first time ever, it's not required. Title inspo comes from T Swift (don't come for me) and Fall Out Boy's Electric Touch here

Happiest of (early) birthdays my darling soul sister (early af because I have no willpower or self control to wait til next month) Hopefully I've done your Lars justice 🩷

All my love,

K 💙

The gravel crunched under your boots as you made your way up the driveway, There was a chill to the air still despite the snow having almost completely melted. You pulled your hat down tighter around your ears. Vertigo by Griff playing in your headphones as Lars came into view; the ax in his hands splitting the piece of wood underneath it with such ease you once teased him you were certain the wood was fake, or rotted so badly that he could simply pull it apart with his bare hands. 

Lars being Lars, had to put your ridiculous accusation to the test immediately, putting the ax down…blade facing away of course…he picked a piece off the pile and stood in front of you where you waited patiently a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips at the seriousness on his face. 

He held the log in both hands, pulling hard, the tips of his fingers white from the pressure pushing on the lumber. 

He sighed with effort before dropping his shoulders “See?” 

You nodded “My mistake” 

He had shaken his head with a small laugh as he turned back to his work at hand as if you had been ridiculous for even suggesting such a thing. 

That had been onwards a month ago now, and his chuckle of disbelief at your audacity that he could simply tear wood in half was something you had thought about ever since. 

You knew Lars was unique, that things with him would be…less than conventional, his time with Bianca had made that apparent to everyone. You had told him, this would all be on his terms, his comfort was the most important thing to you; and of course, the last thing you had wanted to do was replace Bianca, you could never; she was special. 

Lars’ face broke into a grin as he looked up and saw you watching him. He waved excitedly and you grinned, his smile infectious waving back before chuckling to yourself, biting gently on your index finger as he simply turned back to the woodpile to carry on chopping as if you hadn’t been there at all. 

You pulled your headphones from your ears and dropped them in your pocket as you moved to lean against the garage, one foot propped against the siding as you folded your arms across your chest, your manicured thumbnail finding its way between your teeth as you watched him intently. 

In true Lars fashion, despite his physical exertion, he was dressed in at least four layers. You watched as he put the ax down to peel off the top layer before looking around for somewhere to put the puffy blue jacket that wasn’t the spongy wet grass. 

“I’ll hold it” you called, holding out your hand beckoning him to bring it to you 

He nodded before jogging over to where you stood passing it to you, the tips of his fingers brushing over the length of yours, the briefest touch, but you were certain he was aware. 

“Thanks” he smiled tight lipped as you folded the jacket over your arms watching him jog back to the woodpile. 

“He really is something isn’t he?” 

You turned to see Karin standing next to you, bundled against the cold and smiled with a nod, turning your attention back to Lars. 

“He really is” you agreed. 

“Wanna come inside?” she asked gesturing toward the house “It’s a lot warmer than out here” 

You shook your head “I’m okay, thanks” 

“I bet you are,” she smirked before turning back toward the house “Door’s open if you change your mind” 

You wouldn’t. 

Watching Lars in his own environment was one of your favourite things to do; he could be himself and be comfortable. He didn’t have to pretend around you he had said one night as you sat across from each other cross legged on his small bed working on touch therapy. 

What he didn’t know was touch therapy helped you just as much as it helped him. You struggled with being touched, albeit not to the same degree, but Lars made it bearable. With him, you didn’t mind that the ghost of his fingers lingered on the back of your hand long after he had taken them away.

You straightened as he sauntered over to where you stood against the garage, positive he was oblivious to how effortlessly sexy he made something as simple as walking. 

He leaned the ax against the wall with a sniff, wiping his sleeve over his nose. Despite the cold, his face glistened with sweat. 

“Want to go inside?” he asked tipping his head slightly in the adorable way he always did “You must be cold”

“Burning up actually” you winked, watching his cheeks burn red as he immediately dropped his gaze to look between your feet. “I’m only teasing” you half lied “Karin said she-”

“I was thinking we could-” he started, before shifting uncomfortably his head still dropped 

You waited quietly for him to collect his thoughts and try again. 

“That we could..have some…us time” he stammered, peeking up at you from under his long lashes making your heart flip in your chest “I-if you want”

You had been seeing each other almost daily for over a month and you still made him nervous; especially when he’d had things on his mind. 

“I would love to” you smiled, keeping your voice soft. 

His head shot up nearly colliding with yours in the process, his blue eyes sparkling with an excitement that made you giggle “Yeah?” 

You nodded with a laugh “Yeah”

“Okay” he nodded, ushering you forward, but careful not to touch the small of your back as you passed. 

He reached around you, opening the door before stepping back, letting you walk in first. 

“I’m sorry for the mess” he apologized, pushing the door closed as he pulled his gloves off

Your eyes scanned the room, it was impeccable save for the cereal bowl on the small table.

“You don’t have to apologize” you smiled “This is your home”

He waved his hand dismissively and shrugged out of his jacket, pulling his hat off and hanging both on hooks by the door. 

You unzipped your own jacket, biting your lip gently with a smirk when you felt him help you tug it off before hanging it next to his. You slid your boots off, setting your hat on top before turning your attention back to Lars, who was wringing his hands nervously.

“Lars?” you asked softly, worried if you spoke much louder you might spook him 

He looked up quickly, almost like he’d forgotten you were there. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, raising an eyebrow 

He nodded “We should- Can we…can we sit?” he asked, gesturing to his small bed. 

“Sure” you nodded before sitting on the edge of the mattress, moving to cross your legs in front of you as he sat across from you. “Did you have something in mind for tonight?” 

He was nervous, but you had accepted the fact that merely, you, being in his presence was enough to make him jittery. This was something different though…

You sat with your hands collapsed in your lap waiting for him to ease himself into his comfort zone. This had become something of a routine for the two of you, usually you visited with Karin and Gus, long enough for a cup of tea or coffee maybe dinner before you and Lars would retire to his small space in the garage, where he would build you a small fire and you would sit across from each other on the small bed while he plucked up the courage to ask if he could “try again” 

It always started the same, hesitant and slow as his fingers traced the back of your hand; after a few minutes he would nod, that was his silent indication you could do the same. 

Today you had come prepared, you sat across from him in a t-shirt despite the cold temperatures outside, the small garage always warmed up quickly. Each day you had sat doing this with him, he had managed to progress further up the length of your arm, touching and holding for longer increments each time. 

He let out a heavy sigh swallowing hard, his hands folded in front of him 

“We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not ready” you reassured and he immediately shook his head 

“No, I want to” he paused looking up at you “Un-unless you don’t want-? 

“I’m  ready for whatever you’re comfortable with sweetheart” 

His cheeks flushed the slightest shade of pink before he nodded, hoping you hadn’t noticed. You pretended not to. 

“I…” he let out another heavy sigh “Can I-” he tried again before he faltered 

“Take your time” you soothed 

He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as he took a deep breath in through his nose. 

He fidgeted sitting across from you as you waited; he was transfixed on his hands in his lap, not making eye contact with you. “Would it be alright if we….if I….” he dropped his voice to a near non existent whisper “If I kissed you?” Again, like he had out in the yard, he peeked up at you from under his long eyelashes, nervous for your answer. 

“You want to kiss me?” you asked, unable to keep the growing smile off your face; it was such an innocent request, anyone else would have thought nothing of it, would have just went for it, but not Lars. 

He nodded quickly before dropping his gaze. 

“I-if you want” he mumbled quickly

“Lars…” you smiled, reaching to rest a hand on his knee, in lieu of reaching for his bare hand. “Look at me” 

Slowly he lifted his head  blinking rapidly “It's okay if you don't, I understand” 

“I would love to” He looked up almost in awe as you continued “Are you sure you're ready for that?” 

He nodded determinedly 

“We'll go slow” you smiled offering your hand for him to take the initiative. 

Almost immediately he reached out, taking your hand in his. This was something he had grown comfortable with, anything else was much more of a struggle. His hand slowly slid up the length of your arm. 

He let out a shaky breath knowing what would follow, your mirror of his movements along his own arm. 

He jumped back, startling you slightly “Wait wait” 

You dropped your hand, your own heartbeat subsiding in your ears watching as he stood and stripped off everything but his undershirt and sweats before he sat back down. 

“I want to feel it this time” he explained “More than before”

Your own excitement peaked at his sudden boldness as he returned his hand to your upper arm. 

“If you want to stop, just say so, okay?” You asked, finding yourself slightly nervous at the prospect of pushing him too far. 

He nodded but didn't make eye contact as his hand settled on your shoulder. 

His breath caught in his throat as your hand inched up his bicep, hesitating briefly when he jumped. 

“Okay?” You asked

“Yes,” he whispered. Eyes still focused on his own movements. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as his large hand slid up the length of your neck, his calloused fingers hesitant, and warm tickling your skin. The low moan in the back of your throat stopped Lars immediately. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, worry evident in his voice 

You shook your head slowly, opening your eyes. “No, baby” you whispered, reminding yourself you needed to keep your composure. 

He cupped your cheek and you sighed leaning into his touch. 

His breath was shaky as he felt your hand move from his shoulder, creeping closer to his neck, to bare skin. 

He could do this. He wanted to do this. He wanted to do this with you. 

“May I?” You asked softly, fingers hovering on the neck of his undershirt. 

Again, he nodded. You still kept your movements slow, your heart beating hard in your chest, very aware this was foreign territory for Lars. 

He flinched almost as soon as your skin made contact with his, but he didn't pull away. 

To your surprise he shifted, moving himself closer to you. His hands moving to your waist pulling you into a kneel. His hands were extremely warm, even through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. 

You moved closer, but stopped short, letting him keep control of the situation. His breath was warm against your face given your new proximity. 

He took your face in both hands all at once, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You gasped, your hands finding his waist as his tongue pushed past your lips before he hesitated, but didn't pull back. Your lips parted, giving him the permission he'd hoped for. 

He whimpered, making your stomach flip, your fingers curling gently against his hips as he deepened your kiss, pulling your body flush against his.  

His mouth moved eagerly against yours, the unmistakable bulge pressing against your leg as his arms wrapped around your back. He ground his hips against your thigh, his breathing heavy. 

In spite of your best efforts, you moaned into your kiss, which only seemed to spur Lars on, he rocked against you, his hands finding their way into your hair, fingers tangling around the strands. 

Lars had completely lost himself in the moment; lost himself in you. You had managed to pull yourself out of the intoxicating spell you’d slipped under, prying your lips from his, breathing hard as Lars moaned into your neck, his fingers curling tightly against your back, your thigh suddenly damp. 

As reality came crashing back around him Lars sat back, a look you could only assume was nothing short of fear etched all over his face. 

“I’m sorry” he apologized, his eyes welling up with tears “I-I didn’t mean to”

Your features immediately softened opting to touch his arm gently instead of his face. “Lars, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for” 

His brow furrowed slightly as he considered your words blinking away the tears “I don’t?” 

“No,” you shook your head with a smile reaching to push his hair back out of his eyes “Never” 

“Never?” He asked, his nose scrunching slightly with his skepticism 

“Not with me” 

He nodded slowly, seemingly accepting this to be true. 

“Did I hurt you?” you asked, worried that you may have unintentionally thrust him from his comfort zone. “How’s the burning?”

He shook his head “I don’t, it doesn’t….it’s different”

“Good different?” you asked 

“Good different” His face broke into a grin “Can we do it again?” 

You chuckled to yourself, as much as you were more than willing to do it again, you shook your head 

His face fell immediately “Did I do it wrong?” panic obvious. 

“Oh Lars, no” you shook your head with a small laugh “It was wonderful” 

His shoulders dropped as he visibly relaxed 

“But wouldn’t you rather take it slow?” you asked “Go at a pace you’re comfortable with?” 

He considered this with a nod “I just want you to be happy”

“I am happy” you stressed “How could I not be with a stud like you?” 

He scoffed, again scrunching his nose as he shook his head in disagreement his cheeks flushing a deep crimson 

You laughed, making him bashful was so easy to do. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll play with your hair the way you like until you fall asleep?”

He nodded “Yes please” 

“Well then,” you smiled, gesturing toward the bathroom as you both got to your feet

He turned toward the bathroom, walking a step and a half before he turned back around “Hey..” 

You looked up from pulling the covers back on the bed “Hmm?” 

You stood up fully as he came back to where you stood “I forgot to tell you Happy Birthday” 

He bent to kiss you on the cheek before promptly turning on his heel and disappearing into the bathroom before you had a chance to register what had happened. 

You stood alone in the small converted garage laughing lightly to yourself, your fingertips resting where his lips had been moments before, still able to feel their ghostly imprint. 

“Thank you” you smirked to yourself before climbing between the sheets and waited for Lars to join you.

#fic #lars lindstrom #lars and the real girl #ryan gosling #happy birthday my soul sister #lars x reader

[triplexdoublex]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Chase(Huddy) x Reader

Warnings/tags: Smut, almost getting caught by a family member, use of a vibrator, outta pocket grandma

A/N: 100% based on a dream I had, so some details may differ from real life.

It’s been six long months without Chase while he was gone on tour, but finally you’re about to see him again. You see him as you pull up at arrivals; a smile already on his face when he recognizes your car. The second the car is in park, you jump out and throw your arms around him, pulling him in for a big kiss, and then help him load his luggage into the trunk.

“God, I missed you so much, you have no idea,”he kisses you again as he settles into the passenger seat.

“I missed you so much too, babe. I’m glad to have you back,” you smile at him before pulling away from the airport and starting the journey back to the house you share with Chase.

You’re almost back home when Chase starts getting handsy. He runs a hand up your inner thigh and under your skirt. “Can’t believe it's been six months since I’ve touched you, six months since my cocks been in this sweet pussy,” he begins rubbing you through your panties while you drive. First order of business when we get in the house is burying this dick so deep inside you” He grasps his hardening length through his pants with his free hand while the other tries to slip into your panties.

“Yeah about that…” you push his hand away.

“Baby, I don’t even care if you're on your period! I need you!” he pleads.

“What? No, that was like two weeks ago, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it, baby? C’mon you know you can tell me anything,” Chase questions concerned.

“You’ll see.”

Not even two minutes later you pull up to the house: balloons, tents with food, a welcome home sign and every relative of his imaginable.

“Oh. My. God. What the hell?” Chase says in shock.

“I’m sorry, babe. Your family insisted on throwing you a Welcome Home party and I tried to get them to at least change it to tomorrow so we could have some time to ourselves and you could rest, but they weren’t having it, and I didn’t want any drama with them.”

“Oh, fuck me!” He whins in annoyance. I mean, they’re my family, of course I wanna see them but not right now, ugh. Right now, I only want you— I’m still fucking hard.”

You get out of the car, retrieve Chase’s luggage from the trunk , and hand it to him as he steps out of the car. “Here, cover yourself with this.”

“Heyyy,” he awkwardly greets various family members, giving them a one armed hug while still clutching his luggage close to his body. More family start to approach, but Chase can’t take it anymore,his craving for you is absolutely carnal and his family is going to have to wait. “Hey everyone,let me take a shower real quick to wash off all the tour bus and travel off of me, then I’ll get back to seeing everyone. Promise I'll be quick.” And he knows he will be, you’ll be lucky if he lasts five minutes after having been away so long.

The second you enter the house — which is thankfully empty— your ravenous mouths are on each other, and you’re shedding your outerwear; your cardigan and his leather jacket. With your mouths fused together in passion, and your hands tangled in each other's hair, you clumsily shuffle towards the bedroom, banging into things, and knocking stuff over in the kitchen along your way. You only make it as far as the connected living room before you fall back onto the sofa, pulling Chase down on top of you. He instantly grinds himself against you and you lift your hips returning the sensation—your longing bodies visceral reaction to touching after being apart so long.

With your fingers on his zipper and his tongue in your mouth you pause, hearing the outside door open into the kitchen.

“Oh my, I told myself that you were still young and you weren’t having sex yet, I guess I know the truth now.” Chase’s grandmother criticizes.

“Jesus Christ, Grandma I’m twenty one, really?” Chase replies holding himself up off your body. “And we were just kissing. What are you doing in the house anyways, the party is outside?”

“But I know what that kind of kissing leads to,” his grandmother informs.” I kissed your grandad like that when he came home from the war, and nine months later your mother was born,” she embarrasses Chase. “I just wanted to see my grandson, is that okay?” She guilt trips him in a way only a grandparent can.

“Thanks for the visual, Grandma,” he facepalms. “Yes, but I told everyone I would be right back after a shower, sooo let me go take a shower and I’ll be right out.” He tries his best to hide his annoyance with her but fails miserably.

“Ohh fine,” his grandmother sulks, walking towards the door.

“Yup, there you go, okay bye bye, see you later.” Chase rushes her out, locking the door behind her.

“Now where were we?” Chase smirks, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you in for a hungry kiss.

Again you begin the clumsy journey to the bedroom, undressing each other as you go — Chase pulling your shirt up and over your head and your fingers skillfully working down the placket of his white button up.

Before you even get the chance to remove it fully he’s shoving you against the wall. Your skin is set ablaze as his nimble fingers begin to travel up your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

“Missed me, huh?” He teases with a smirk feeling how soaked you are through your panties.

“Mhmmmm, Fuck— you have no idea,” you moan grasping him through his pants.

He pushes your hand away in exchange for unzipping his pants, and pulls himself free. Then hurriedly, he hikes your left leg up around his waist, and pushes your wet panties to the side. You can’t help but let out a loud moan at the feeling of his sizable cock nudging your slick walls open to accommodate him.

“Fuck, I missed this.” His warm breath cascades over your flesh as he pivots his hips and mouths your neck, thumbing your bra strap out of the way to then kiss along your clavicle.

“Ohhh- fuck, Chase!” You cry out in pleasure, grabbing his ass to pull him in deeper. “Uhhhhmm, yeah —fuck right there!”

“Mmhhmmm, oh god yes, say my fucking name like that again baby! He grits through his teeth hungrily as fucks into you.

“Chase— Fuck , you feel so good inside me, want you to fill me,” you plead. Suddenly you swear you hear someone opening the front door. “Shit, Chase, I think someone’s —-“

“Shut up!” He covers your mouth with his hand “I’m not finished with you”

You’ve never seen or heard Chase like this before — the demeaning tone, his desire so primative. You can feel yourself getting wetter by second and you know he can feel it too—each thrust slicker than his last. It’s only a few more until you can feel the pulsating warmth of him cumming inside you.

“Chase?” You both hear a voice coming from the kitchen.

“Shit, it’s my sister!” Chase snatches up your other leg, and quickly wraps it around his waist with the other one, and carries you into your shared bedroom. He plops you down on the bed and then discreetly closes and locks the bedroom door.

“Chase, you say in a whisper. “What are you doing?”

“You didn’t cum yet and we don’t have much times,” he whispers back while opening the nightstand drawer.

You know exactly what he’s getting, he’s not one to shy away from toys in the bedroom, and he knows how quick you always cum whenever he uses the hitachi wand on you.

He switches it on and the humming buzz alone already has your lower abdomen clenching in anticipation. He presses the vibrating bulbous head of the wand firmly against your clit and in mere seconds you’re cumming hard. Quickly, before your open mouth can release a sound, his hand once again covers it.

“Chase?” There’s a knock on the bedroom door.

“Just a second,” Chase responds, letting your body ride out your orgasm before switching off the hitachi and hiding it under the covers for now.

You sprint to the attached master bathroom to clean yourself up, while Chase zips up and starts re-buttoning his shirt before opening the bedroom door.

“Sorry I just got out of the shower and was finishing up getting dressed” Chase says as he fastens the last button.

“Isn’t that the same outfit you just had on before you took a shower?” His sister asks with a quirked eyebrow and accusing tone.

“No, just similar,” he lies.

“Okay then, why is your hair still dry?”

“Uhh, I blow dried it.”

“Sure, ya did lil bro” she smacks him in the back of the head. “You know Y/N’s shirt is in the middle of the living room floor right?”

“Uh…Um” A rosy hue blooms on Chase’s cheeks. He’s fresh out of excuses.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell any of our guests you abandoned them for a quickie ….grandma already took care of that.”

#huddy #huddy smut #huddy x reader #huddy fanfic #chase hudson #chase Hudson smut #chase Hudson x reader #chase Hudson fanfic